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#it's been so long we've been so deprived
xcziel · 5 months
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the VIP photocards?!?!!!
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Competent and kind Nandor has me on my knees
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kittytual · 2 years
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[id: a colored manga panel of morena from hunter x hunter. she is facing the viewer and has long, wavy lime green hair and a scar on the right side of her face. end id].
i said to helena that i wouldnt like it but she actually looks fine here?? i still kinda prefer the fanon interpretations though,,
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piplupod · 2 years
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god I just want to sleep
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roquebr · 5 months
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The Fury
Barcelona femeni x reader
Aitana Bonmáti x reader
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Summary: When all seems lost, a turnaround can be more impressive.
The rocking of the bus gives me a slight feeling of relaxation, my headphones placed carelessly in my ears, with the sound at the highest volume, hoping to hide the prevailing noise of the place.
The youngest girls on the team are very excited about today's game, it's no surprise that we are heading towards the first leg of the Champions League semi-final, simply the biggest European championship. So it's not surprising when some of them are sitting on their benches with greater concentration than the other side, which is a mess.
Everyone has their own way of preparing, mine being to ignore everyone around me as much as possible until we get to the changing rooms, music being my escape point, I always turn to Brazilian music to be my company during these moments, it's a way of feel close to home.
— Meto o chapéu na cabeça ela perde a cabeça e me fala assim... – When the song approaches the chorus, I feel a nudge on my shoulders, I pause the song and look at the intruder who disturbed me and then I relax, yeah Alexia, she knows about my pre-game ritual and I know she wouldn't disturb me for nothing.
—Hey Ale, allright?
— Yes, sorry to bother you, but we've already arrived at the stadium and the girls are already coming down.
— I lost track, I'm going too, I'm just going to get my things — I give a small smile, thanking him for his kindness.
— I see you're a little out of tune, is everything okay? – He places one of his free hands on my shoulder, with the other holding his belongings. I don't know how she manages to balance everything like that, if it were me, my cell phone would definitely be broken on the floor by now.
— Yes, I'm just concentrating on the game, you know how it is, right?
— I understand, but if you need anything you can talk to me. – I don't answer, stopping myself from just returning a kind look.
We continued walking towards the changing rooms, greeting the workers as I passed.
I know that this nervousness is not just because of the game, but because of the desire to show more than my best on the field, having arrived at the club just under a year ago, coming straight as a standout on the Ferroviária, I knew that from the beginning I had to show more than I expected.
I've had a strong presence in many of the 37 unbeaten games played so far, I've been a regular starter, but apparently I'm not good enough to start today.
As soon as Jona announced who would start before we got on the bus, my spirits immediately dropped, I know he decided the lineup thinking about preserving some prominent athletes for possible future changes of keys, but that doesn't negate my feeling of incompetence to start on the bench.
We arrive at the locker room and I immediately head to my cubicle, my headphones that have been stored for a long time no longer deprive me of Rosalía's loud voice that emanates from the absurdly loud speaker in my ears.
I change calmly, but I decide not to wear socks or football boots for now, I'm going to interpret this as a protest for being on the bench today, a bit childish I know.
I sigh and lean my head against the wall, where my game t-shirt used to hang, I watch my happy teammates as they transform and sway to the beat of the music.
I saw my girlfriend of 1 year, we met in October 2022 at Ballon D'or, I went to the event as Marta's guest after telling her in a free conversation that I would like to have the experience of going.
We talked for just over a month and soon we were dating, excited, right, but the feeling was intense and it happened, at first it was difficult because of the distance because I was in Brazil and she was in Spain, but we got through it together, whenever I could I went to visit her. there. Unfortunately, she never managed to go to Brazil, but I will resolve that during our next “vacation”.
Jona arrives in the locker room and starts his usual motivational talk, honestly I don't feel like listening to anything, with my mind confused I just focus on going to the bench.
Sit next to Alexia with Lucy on the other side, the traditional song of the champions plays bringing a smile to my face, regardless of my wounded pride, every time this anthem plays I can't help but get emotional, it's a dream that becomes childhood reality.
The first half of the game was somewhat disappointing, Barça put pressure on Chelsea's marking but unfortunately the defense did not give in, in the 39th minute came the beginning of our fall, taking advantage of a passing error from Irene that gave Chelsea close possession of the ball. to the area, making a respectable exchange of passes until he found a partner in the area, he deceived Keira's marking and passed to Cuthbert who wasted no time in scoring. We came out at half-time with 1-0 to Chelsea.
The atmosphere in the dressing room is very different to when we arrived, the totally dead Barcelona vibe contradicts the emotion I normally feel, word after word, motivation after motivation, all falling on my deaf ears as each teammate seemed focused on acquiring each lyric. said by him.
With a wave of his hand, Jona takes me aside to talk.
— YN, where are your boots?
— It's in the bank, Jona.
He sighs lightly in annoyance, the stress in his shoulders is visible.
— Look, I know you're disappointed that I didn't start today, but please put your boots on, I'll be with you on the field in about 10 minutes.
— Great Jona, I'll put it on.
Returning to the second half, a little more excited, I ask one of the physiotherapists there to put a bandage on my ankle, Sophia is her name, as I injured my ankle during the game I always put a bandage on it to avoid future injuries.
After Sophia finishes, I put on my socks and football boots, I kiss each shin guard before putting them on.
The second half began, Barça had difficulty getting into the game, then a penalty was awarded in our favor, we celebrated along with the cheers of the fans, this would be our chance to continue in the game.
The referee goes to the Var and immediately cancels the penalty, apparently the referee interprets that Salma's offside hinders the defender, nonsense if I may say so.
At 63 minutes Jona makes 2 substitutions, bringing Alexia and Lucy. Ingrid and Ona sit next to me, respectively tired and disappointed with their performances, I give both thighs a comforting squeeze.
I wait anxiously at the edge of my bench for a while, waiting for the moment when Jona replaces me. In the 74th minute, when Ramirez, Chelsea's striker, missed the chance to expand, my heart almost exploded. Patri managed to disrupt her position well, although he still let her to finish the shot.
— Jonas!! – He doesn’t even turn around in recognition.
— Que saco mano. – I go down towards him who was on the side of the field. — Jona, am I going in now?
— Be patient, YN, go to warm up.
A frown appears on my face, but I do as I'm told, not before kicking the water bottle nearby. My companions give me sympathetic looks, which makes me more stressed.
At 78 minutes, the assistant coach says I'm ready and Jona calls me to the sidelines next to him.
— Listen to me, we need you now in this field, are you ready for this challenge. – She pauses only to give the numbers to the fourth referee who is preparing the replacement panel. — We need to decide this game at home, with our fans who came here to watch us play, with courage and love when we enter the field. I know you are ready for this challenge, show who you are and what you came for.
I can't find words, so I just listen, shaking my head with a determined look. I take the place of Mariona, who wishes me good luck, running to my position, passing my girlfriend, blinking and returning to focus on the game.
Time: 80m
In a quick run down the wing, Frido sends it to Caro who tries to finish, the goalkeeper saves but the rebound goes straight to my side, I don't miss the opportunity and send it into the goal. I see Salma grab the ball so we can restart the game, I run back to position, jumping and calling the fans to play together.
Time: 83m
Patri intercepts the ball in midfield, passes it to Aitana who dribbles the opponent, leaving her mistaken, I ask for the ball and soon receive it. I notice that the goalkeeper's left corner is free, I prepare my leg and take a strong low shot, I see the ball roll quickly as the goalkeeper tries to launch himself too late, then you see the net ripple. We changed the course of the game, but it's still not enough.
Time: 85m
Aitana is having an impressive run taking advantage of Chelsea's neglect, a defender in front of her, with options like me on the left and Caro on the right, with Salma right behind. Aita rolls the ball to me, I take a slight touch to the right and shoot with confidence, the ball takes a threatening curve and soon falls into the net, surprising the goalkeeper.
Now I allow myself to celebrate, I run close to the flag post and slide down on my knees, my teammates hugging me and pulling me everywhere, the euphoria was so much that it felt like we had won the Champions League right there. I felt like crying, I scored my first hat-trick in the Champions League
Time: 88m
We receive a free kick after the Chelsea player almost grabbed Aitana trying to take the ball away from her, Salma takes the free kick which hits Lucy's head, who aims the ball towards the goalkeeper's box. She came spinning through the air, landing perfectly at my feet, I beautifully pushed her towards the goal and fell into the hug. With every second that passed the crowd became louder and louder, if possible.
Time: 90m
The gas had not passed, it was getting stronger and stronger, now with a considerable advantage, we preferred to send the team back. Keeping score is crucial for the second leg in England. Although we are currently more focused on defense, that doesn't stop us from also attacking at every opportunity. The team's confidence increased and we played calmer, making more passes and remaining calm when under pressure.
Caro has the ball on the right wing, looks up and sees the perfect opportunity to cross.
Caro's always necessary crossing makes things easier for me, I wait for her to reach the right height before jumping and sending the bike, when I fall backwards onto the grass my pain is numbed by a very loud vibration coming from the stadium.
Barely having time for anything else, I run towards the small Chelsea fans present in the stadium, stop in front of them and place both hands on my waist, with an arrogant posture, soon my teammates come to me in pure euphoria. Many compliments reach my ears, I allow myself to embrace them as much as possible before we have to return to the starting position.
9 minutes of extra time were allowed, nothing else impressive happened during this period, the 3 characteristic whistles were heard. There were many celebrations after we greeted the rival team. I head towards the referee team who hands me the ball.
Jona hugs me congratulating me on a successful game, the team soon arrives and gives me the idea of throwing myself into the air, I try to run away but I'm not fast enough, after the desperate seconds pass I run to the fans, my spirits were high today.
I ask a member of the coaching staff to hold my ball for me, while I jump into the arms of the crowd, doing my best to sign and take as many photos with everyone as possible, the only limit being the barrier.
I feel an arm go around my waist as I sign a Mapí fan t-shirt. I look to the side and see that it is Aitana, who is already looking at me with her beautiful smile on her face, her bright eyes remind me of the constellations.
I can't help but smile with her, our passionate looks betrayed our enormous passion for each other, which doesn't go unnoticed by the public, to everyone's euphoria and my poor heart, she stands on tiptoe and gives a long kiss to the my lips. , fireworks light up in my belly.
Soon the photo of that moment would be published on many pages, one of them was the official Barça account, and certainly on many fan pages that would blow up my cell phone with notifications.
But I couldn't care less, I played an impressive game and had my girl in my arms, could I ask for more than that?.
!!The inspiration for the character to score 5 goals in 10 minutes came from Lewa, when he played for Bayern he did this feat, so I thought “why not put that in the fic?”!" ... sorry for any mistakes, english is not my main language
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shaisuki · 2 months
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CIGARETTE SMOKE
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|| the third entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”
content warnings ─── yandere themes, implied kidnapping, hints of smut, jealousy.
is it bad that you want to take someone just to protect them from this world? aki regretted but doesn't feel bad about it.
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we devil hunters don't have the long life to live.
there's a certain annoyance that has been creeping up on me since you joined the division. you clearly didn't belong here and sometimes i would ask myself why are you here? why are you wasting your life in this hellhole for no reason. you're alive. happy. you aren't here for revenge. to avenge your loved ones from the devils. you have no purpose here. you don't belong here.
however it's not my place to dictate someone's choice of being here but you infuriate me to no end that i wished for your demise. i didn't understand why i feel this way towards you. it doesn't make sense. you were a nobody to mine. not the one i should care for but sometimes i can't take my eyes off you.
the gnawing feeling of seeing you so friendly and close to someone like denji makes my blood boil and it's easy to ignore it but i can't not when you're starting to grow on me.
what casual moments between us, i have cherished it. not realizing what effect it could have on me. i started to see you on my dreams. started to crave your presence that i can no longer breath and it hurts me so much that i have started to feel this way to you more than i would like to admit.
then we started to lay on the same bed. where can i hear you breath. feel you under my fingertips. the softness and warmth you provided for simply existing. how it provided the intimacy of comfort and security. drown in the depths of the pools of your eyes that i can no longer swim and sink in to you.
is this what it feels to fall for someone who is close but is distant. how could it be when you're the one who initiated it. how cruel are you but i can't blame you. we simply comforted each other with our bodies and it's my fault that i let myself feel what i wanted to feel.
this would be our last night together. allow me to cherish you. let me feel you. let me sink my teeth unto your skin that you will feel me for days.
the gasps and moans that left your lips breathlessly is the air i breath. say my name the way i like it. say my name as i touch you in places where it brought you pleasure. the stretch marks and scars decorating your skin that i have memorized. the curves and every swell of your body where i have kissed and worshipped. allow me. allow me. allow me. allow me to savor all of it. you won't deprive me of it. i know of it since you're helplessly under me.
that's right. that's how things should be. you and me. nothing else in this world that can stop us. not even the devils.
why won't you be mine?
the thought occured to me. why? we have shared our thoughts. the touch that i came to miss. the kisses that i denied at first and learned to crave. i have touched you. we've exchanged sweet nothings. the string of salivas connecting our lips. my lips on yours and my spent deep inside you. painting your walls white as you came around me. isn't it enough that we belong to each other. you're mine. you're mine. you're mine. you are mine.
so forgive me. forgive me that the last thing you will ever see is the smoke coming from my cigarette as i lay claim on you. protecting you from this cruel world that took the people i loved and i won't let it happen to you. i don't understand myself why i am asking for your forgiveness when i know you won't forgive but it won't hurt to ask. you're too kind and that was your mistake for having me. for letting me in your world that I claimed to be mine.
my thoughts are muddled and the only thing that keeps me sane of my reality is the light coming from the end of my cigarette and your warm body resting beside me. warm. it is a good thing. you're still alive and you'll wake up with me beside you. that's better. is all i can think as i watch my cigarette smoke disappear in the thin air like you were.
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a-hazbin-soul · 4 months
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I wanted to ask for wlw verosika imagine. Basically the reader was w verosika in rehab and they had something going on but nothing ever happened until they randomly find each other in a bar. The reader would think verosika doesn't remember abt her but they would end up tangled in the bar's bathroom
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You had gotten out of rehab months ago, and right now, you were throwing some of that time away at a bar. You were talking to a cute girl, and you could feel it going nowhere. Cute was no substitute for Veronica.
That sounds really fucking shallow. Normally, you wouldn't compare someone you'd just met to a pop star of all people. But Verosika was.... different. You met her at the shitty rehab you went to, and you thought you hit it off pretty well. You gave her your number when she got early, already a long shot, and she never used it.
"I'm sorry, I have to use the restroom." You told the girl sitting next to you before you booked it to a stall in the ladies' room. You did have to go, but mostly, you were just trying to dodge the girl and make sure nothing would go any further.
After about fifteen minutes, you left the restroom. On your way to get another drink, you ran into someone.
"Oh my God, I'm so- Verosika?" The embarrassment in your face went away when you realized it was her. "I haven't seen you in a while." You blushed, but you were clearly sad. "What are you doing here?"
She put an arm around you. "I've been looking for you for a while. I came here because you mentioned this bar in rehab, and I've been trying to find you for months ever since your phone disappeared." She pulled a phone out of her purse. " I believe this is yours. "
You slowly took the phone while looking up at her. "I thought you forgot about me. I thought I was too boring and-" She cut you off with a deep kiss. "You're too fantastic and beautiful to forget about. You're the one person I've made a connection with who didn't see me as a pop star first instead of who I am."
She picked you up, making your legs wrap around your waist, and kissed you again. "Do you wanna take this to the bathroom? I think we've both been way too deprived of each other. " You responded by kissing her.
She set you on the counter and kicked every stall door to make sure nobody could watch you. "Where were we?" She said, stroking the inside of your thigh. You decided to be forward and started unzipping your dress before she stopped you. "Let me do all of that Y/N"
Verosika started unzipping your dress, her lips practically latched to your neck, causing your moans to echo off the bathroom walls. "No bra? That's good for me." She immediately put one of your ripples in her mouth, making you moan almost instantly. "Fuck I missed how responsive you are." She growled in your ear as her hands went under your dress and ripped your panties off.
She started rubbing circles on your clit, making your legs shake and your hands let go of the counter. She put three fingers in your pussy and tried to start off slowly. "P-please, go faster. I need it so badly!"
"Fuck, I've missed everything about you baby. I'm not letting you go again." Her fingers moved even faster, and she took your clit into her mouth. She started off licking in slow circles and increasing her speed almost by the second.
She smirked against your clit as your moans got louder and your walls tightened around her fingers. "Verosika! Fuck, mommy can I cum?!" She smirked against your clit, you always know how to be the sweetest. "Yes, baby."
She kissed you, moving her fingers even faster. "F-fuck! Mommy! Please!" You moaned out. Your legs began shaking as you came all over her fingers.
Verosika licked everything off of her fingers before putting you back in your dress and putting your ripped panties in her purse.
She picked you up bridal style and carried you to her limo. Your legs always gave out after she fucked you, so she wasn't gonna make you walk. "Let's go home. Fuck, I've missed you."
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punkeropercyjackson · 5 months
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Please tell me how Duke,Cass and Stephanie getting nonstop left out of Batfam content isn't because of antiblackness,racialized misogyny and a mix of gender essentialism,classism and ableism.When none of you can shut the fuck up about how 'black haired and blue eyed male is the only requirement for a Batkid!' and go as far as to include 'pale/fair skinned' sometimes when Damian and Dick are brownskin in multiple versions because of being brown in heritage and Damian and Jason have green eyes half the time and by saying 'lighteyed' when it comes to Batboys,that would be problematic but it'd at least include Duke since he's gold eyed due to Gnonom and you probably don't even know who that is since you actively refuse to meet Duke even though he's easiest Batkid to read for BECAUSE he's got so little content and Cass and Stephanie also have a small amount of material compared to the other boys
When Cass is chosen over Duke for Jason by all of you even though she hates him and she chooses Stephanie again and again against everyone's wishes and Duke canonically WANTS to be chosen for fucking once and Jason DID choose him and is the only other Batboy who called him a Robin directly outside of Robin War and Stephanie's dying wish was be 'a real Robin' and Cass' character creation purpose is to defy the idea that asian women exist only for white men and go against other asian girl stereotypes,INCLUDING being purely soft and feminine by making her a rough and tough butch who hates cis men.When you say 'Fuck canon,fanon is better!' to justify your millions of rewrites to erase Tim's Robin being a romani man and his Batgirl a half chinese girl and Jason's Robin and Batgirl being a black autistic boy and his Batgirl a bpdtistic male explotation victim and your crossovers of characters who have the perfect parents or at least caretakers in canon but suddenly,canon is your gospel when it comes to the bigotry in it's writing i.e how 'The core Batkids' came to be
And the fact is,that's like the only Batkids combo that DOSEN'T make sense!The Dead Robins Club is a no brainer but there's also the 90s Batkids trinity,the Shakespearen Robins(Jason,Stephanie and Duke),The Troubled Batkids(Tim,Stephanie,Cass and Duke),Batman!Cass Batwoman!Stephanie Robin!Maps and Trans Batgirl!Damian and the ONLY CANON Nightwing Robin and Batgirl trio we've ever gotten in Dick Tim and Cass??????You have some of the best dynamics of all time possible but nah,you'd rather pass it over for infantalizing a grown ass disabled moc into your pathetic lil pretty obsessed manchild,turning thee dead sidekick into a convuluted mess more than canon ever has and that's saying BIG words,cringeifying someone who just has the personality of an ordinary of 17 year old boy and is therefore inherently lovable into the arranged marriage lovechild of a dark romance guy and a pick me quotev girl and dehumanize a cute and sweet lil brown boy who's got that trauma already to turn him into an animal in human mold in the same breath you bash him healing enough to get a gf through trauma bonding and being kiddy together in favor of your groody ass lil age gap fantasy-Actually,that applies to ALL OF THEM
Kory,Rose and STEPHANIE are infinitely better written love interests for Dick,Jason and Tim than any older man you want them to get with,Tim most of all because he's not even a man,he's a boy.Cass and Stephanie are adults and have been for a long time in multiple incarnations so why not make Stephcass smut instead?Why not 'Duke joins the Batfam early/Jason takes Duke into The Outlaws after he has a fight with Bruce that scared him/Sleep Deprived Duke Thomas/Chaotic Duke Thomas/Duke Thomas deserves better/Trans Duke Thomas/Autistic Duke Thomas?,all of which are infinitely more implicable to Duke than they are to Tim and so is 'Token Normal Tim Drake'?When you make this content or you support it,you're saying something.You're saying you don't care about representation and perfer stereotyping and abusive dynamics because you believe they're inherently more interesting
Before you judge this post,consider the following:Which one of us has read enough comics and watched enough adaptions to know all this?Which one of us has more of a right to call themself a Batfam and Batkids fan?Which one of us is constantly gatekeeping Duke,Cass and Stephanie from their own story and pulling the 'No,YOU!!!!' card?It's absolutely pathetic how desperate the grip Batfanon has taken is and even more so that y'all refuse to move on from it like i did.It's not gonna kill you,you pissbabies.And just curious,how long was the last Batfam-centric post you rb'd?Longer than this,right?
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AITA for indulging in my boyfriend's cuck kink?
Alright, so for some background, both me (25, M, panromantic asexual) and my BF (28, M, bisexual) live in a VERY conservative rural area, literally NOBODY knows we're together even though we've been dating for years and the community is pretty tight-knit, that's how much effort we've put into hiding ourselves. We've thought about moving out but honestly other than the constant threat of being found out our life here is pretty great, we know everyone in the community and are on very friendly terms with them, we were both born and raised here so we're honestly kinda scared of losing everything and starting over in a new place, plus I really want to stay to support my dad because I know he can already get pretty lonely as is (mom works out of town, only visits for holidays if even that, plus I don't have any other siblings to keep him company) and me moving away would hurt him a lot.
Now, with that out of the way onto the actual situation: the cuck thing is something me and my boyfriend have discussed about at length, he's not shy about it to me and I'm always glad to make him happy so I'd be open to trying it if the opportunity arose. The thing is- I never really thought there WOULD be an opportunity for it due to the circumstances described above. Well, that was until a girl we both know confessed to me on Christmas Eve. That girl- let's call her Ellie (23, F, straight(?))- is someone I've actually had feelings for a while now (my BF knows and told me he'd be fine with me dating her as an 'official' relationship, but only if I keep us a secret), however I never did anything about those feelings. I was honestly kinda shocked when the confession happened, but in a good way, and I ended up accepting in the heat of the moment, so now me and Ellie have been 'officially' dating for about a month.
Here's where I think I might be the asshole: since that happened my BF has started to hang out with the two of us while we're acting like a very lovey-dovey couple and he's obviously been getting off on that (as in, it's obvious to me, doubt anyone else picked up on it) and I've been having mixed feelings about this. On one hand we did talk about it and agree to it, but on the other I do think this is unfair to Ellie in a way that I didn't realize previously because I never realistically considered this happening. My BF is reassuring me, saying that it's best we keep hidden anyway and that so long as nobody finds out no harm is done, but I still feel kinda bad about it, yet at the same time I don't really know what I should do in this situation to make it right. The whole thing only gets even more complicated when you account for the fact that Ellie is our pastor's granddaughter and as such comes from a very well known family in our community, a family that has a reputation to uphold, and if the thing about me and my BF came out it would surely impact her badly in that way as well. On the other, she really gets along with my son (8, M) and I really think that she'd make a great mother to him so I don't want to deprive him of that and break things off just because of my own personal drama. On the other OTHER hand I also don't want to break up with my BF because it would feel cruel in my opinion, especially when I very much still love him.
So, AITA for keeping my promise and just going along with this and keeping quiet to save myself and my BF?
What are these acronyms?
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charmac · 1 month
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Do you think Mac has jacked off while reading the Bible? Or is he too ashamed? Or does the shame just turn him on more? Are the pages of his Bible all stuck together?
Oh, I don't think; we know:
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(Pages stuck together, thanks for the confirmation, Charlie)
I think the shame definitely turns him on more, considering Mac Day:
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And, the connected punishment, lest we forget The Gang Goes to Hell... (and the script here... whew)
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While he was repressed then, he wasn't as of Charlie's Home Alone, so I think it's clear to claim that a part of his "homosexual awakening" was connected to the fact that he was gradually getting more and more into the idea of being punished (gone sexual) for his sins, to a point where he was just genuinely jerking off to the "evils of homosexuality"
I do wanna continue here though and say Season 15 is pretty interesting because we see Mac battle between being Catholic and proudly gay. He seemingly has no issue bragging to a Priest in the middle of a church that he's into triple penetration, but it is his sex life that is the driving "reasoning" for why he thinks he should become a Catholic Priest:
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He's been "S-ing&F-ing" his way though life for too long and now he thinks God has taken away one of his identities (Irish) as a result. Mac's idea of being punished by/for God continues, but it's now through the form of revocation (as opposed to shame or flagellation). I think there's a clear "connect the dots" idea that depriving himself of sex (via becoming a Priest) is an "evolved" form of allowing God to punish him for being gay.
Obviously Mac learns he was lied to, as he actually is Irish, so his "journey" here is a bit of a wash, but the fact that his rationale jumped to God punishing him for having gay sex still stands. As he grows to accept himself, he's still looking for ways to feel shame (which, as we've seen, gets him off)...
But is the constant seeking for some form of punishment still there? We didn't see much of his Catholicism in Season 16 (I think the only mention of God from Mac was in The Gang Gets Cursed), but we did continue to see his sex life and—well, that was pretty heavy on Mac, openly gay dating, somehow managing to be neglected and deprived of actual gay sex, wasn't it?
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azrakaban · 4 months
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Distractions - Blaise Zabini
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A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333
Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx
Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3
Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333
...
"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic. 
"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.
"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. 
He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you. 
The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him. 
Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama. 
Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close. 
Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting. 
You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up. 
He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you? 
Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck. 
Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore. 
You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.
He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...
Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him. 
Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...
"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. 
He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong. 
(time skip to the next morning)
YOUR POV:
You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee. 
"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes. 
You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough. 
"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.
"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon. 
"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath. 
"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation. 
"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.' 
You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny  and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.
McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you. 
"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face. 
You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."
You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you. 
Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you." 
You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?" 
Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."
"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.
"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.
You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.
...
You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.
You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.
He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.
"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.
"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.
"What?" You look at him confused.
"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.
You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.
You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"
Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.
"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.
He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.
You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."
You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.
Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.
"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.
You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."
He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."
You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."
...
A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3
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Can I request a Benedict Bridgerton x female reader? Where the reader slightly older than him?
Only way is up (Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)
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Author's note: Hiya, this was certainly exciting to write. Please don't hesitate to request more Bridgerton characters. I am going through a difficult time and some of my fanfics will be coming out later than usual.
Summary:You and Benedict have been hiding that you both have been seeing each other for quite awhile until a little birdie has observed to much to keep it a secret from their mama.
Warning(s):Mild Angst, Fluff, somewhat of family drama, author is sleep deprived, more to be added.
The MAIN Masterlist
The Bridgerton Masterlist
You had always known that getting involved with Benedict Brigerton would be a delicate dance. Since you were slightly older than the man. Not just because of the whirlwind of emotions that accompanied every secret smile or the way your heart raced when he touched your hand under the table. No, it was more than that.
Benedict was not just any man; he was a Bridgerton. And being part of the family meant eyes everywhere-keen, watchful, and always curious.
The two of you had been managing so well, too. Hidden glances, stolen moments, rendezvous under the soft cover of night where you could be yourselves. Free from the prying eyes of high society, free to let your hearts roam wild.
But you knew it couldn't last forever.
One morning, as you were making your way back to the little cafe where you often met Benedict, you noticed something off in the air. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was brewing, and it wasn't just the fresh batch of coffee. Maybe it was the way people were whispering a little more than usual as you passed by. Or the way Lady Whistledown's latest edition spole of secrets to juicy to remain hidden for long.
Later that evening, as you met Benedict in the gardens of the Bridgertons estate, he looked more troubled than you'd even seen him. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow.
"We've been found out," He murmured, taking your hand in his.
You blinked, heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?"
"I overheard Eloise talking to my mother. Apparently, someone-some little birdie-saw us together last week. My mother...she knows something is going on. She's been asking questions."
Your breath hitched. The thought of Lady Violet discovering your secret filled you with dread. Benedict's mother was sharp and protective, and if she knew, it wouldn't take long before the entire ton knew as well.
"What are we going to do?" you asked your voice barely above a whisper.
He looked down at you, a soft determination in his eyes. "We're going to be honest, love. I can't hide you any longer. I don't want to."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had always known this moment might come, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt heavier than you expected.
"Benedict," you whispered, stepping closer to him, "are you sure? What if your mother...what if she doesn't approve? What if the rumors spread? This could ruin everything for you."
Benedict's grip on your hand tightened as he brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles. "Let them talk. I've never cared for society's approval, and I certainly don't care now when it comes to you." His voice was steady, filled with certainly that made the anxious knots in your stomach loosen, if only slightly.
You felt the warmth of his touch calm your racing thoughts, but the fear still lingered. "But your family....they're everything to you. I can't be the reason there's tension between you and your mother. I wouldn't forgive myself."
Benedict's brow softened as he gently places a hand on your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "You're not causing any tension. I want this-us. I'm not going to let anyone, not even my mother, stand in the way of that. Besides," he smirked, a playful glint returning to his eyes, "if my mother sees how much you mean to me, she'll come around."
You wanted to believe him, but years of navigating high society had taught you to be cautious. People didn't always react as you expected them to. However, looking into Benedict's eyes, filled with a determination you'd rarely seen in him, you couldn't help but feel as flicker of hope. Maybe...just maybe, things could work out.
"When are we going to tell her?" you asked quietly, a tremor in your voice.
He took a deep breath, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Tomorrow. I'll as her for tea and explain everything. But you won't have to face her alone-I'll be right by your side." The thought of confronting Lady Violet was daunting, but knowing Benedict would be there with you, facing whatever came, brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.
You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for a moment, everything felt right. There were still uncertainties, still doubts, but for now, you allowed yourself to find comfort in the strength of his arms.
***
The next day came faster than you anticipated. Benedict had arranged for the tea with his mother, Violet, in the Bridgerton estate's drawing room, a place you had only visited once before under far less nerve-wracking circumstances. You could hardly sleep the night before, your mind playing out ever possible scenario, from her outright rejection to cautious acceptance. But now, there was no turning back.
Benedict stood beside you as you entered the room, his hand gently resting on your back as Lady Bridgerton looked up from her seat by the fire. She greeted you both with a warm smile, but there was an unmistakable glint of curiosity in her eyes, as though she had been anticipating this moment.
"My dear," she began, motioning for you to sit, "it's always a pleasure to see you. Though, I must say, Benedict has been quite mysterious about this tea. I take it there's something important you wish to tell me?"
You exchanged a glance with Benedict, your heart racing in your chest. He nodded reassuringly, and you took a deep breath.
"Lady Bridgerton, there is something we've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice more steady than you'd expected. "Benedict and I...we've been seeing each other for some time now. We...care deeply for each other."
Violet's eyes flickered from you to Benedict, her smile softening but not quite disappearing. She was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thick as you waited for her response. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, measured.
"I see," she said slowly, her eyes now firmly on Benedict. "And you've kept this from me for how long, exactly?"
Benedict shifted beside you, but he didn't flinch. "A few months. We didn't mean to keep it from you, Mother, but we wanted to make sure..."
"That this was real," Lady Violet finished for him, her gaze softening as she looked at the two of you. "I understand."
You blinked in surprise. Her calm reaction was not at all what you had expected. She placed her teacup down and looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.
"My dear," she said, turning her attention back to you, "I only have one request."
You nodded, your heart pounding again. "Anything."
"Make my son happy," she said simply. "That's all I ask."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized what she was saying. Lady Violet Bridgerton was giving her blessing.
Benedict beamed beside you, and as he took your hand in his, you knew that the hardest part was behind you. There would still be challenges, still whispers and judgement from society, but with Benedict by your side and his mother's approval, you felt ready to face whatever came next.
Just as you began to relax in the warmth of Lady Violet's approval, a small voice from the doorway caught your attention.
"I knew it!" chirped Hyacinth, Benedict's youngest sister, standing with her hands on her hips and a triumphant smirk on her face. She skipped into the room, eyes gleaming with mischief.
Benedict groaned, rubbing his temples. "Hyacinth..."
"You two were awful at hiding it, you know," she continued, completely ignoring her brother's exasperation. "I saw you sneaking out of the garden together last week, holding hands. And don't even get me started on that longing look at dinner last month!"
You exchanged a nervous glance with Benedict, but Violet chuckled softly. "Hyacinth, you've certainly inherited your siblings' knack for observation."
Hyacinth beamed proudly. "I should write to Lady Whistledown about it!" she teased, before darting off as quickly as she'd arrived, leaving both you and Benedict shaking your heads in disbelief.
"Remind me never to underestimate her again," you whispered, trying not to laugh.
Benedict sighed, pulling you close again. "Welcome to the family, love."
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pokemon-with-hats · 8 months
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I've been super busy with classes, and haven't found time to spend making pokemon edits. And i feel like I've let you all down because of it. But you know what would be relatively easy to put together? What everyone's been dying for? Obviously, it's a redux of the long post lotad! But since i don't want to blow up everyone's dashes, I'm going to put it under a read more. So without further ado, here we go!
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Now since I've been so busy, i haven't actually had the time to put a stack together. So i currently just have one lotad here. But not to worry, i have a solution! Simply gaze into their eye. Peer into the depths of the lotad. You must realize that beyond the digital flesh and blood of this humble water plant, there is an infinite cosmos of lotads. Tap into this cosmos, and accept that lotad is more than just a pokemon - it's a way of life, a lens through which we can look at the world. This infinite plane of lotad may be familiar to some. Before, when we stacked lotads, we talked about it being lotads all the way down. Well, that's what this is. This is the lotad that's all the way down. That's right, this isn't a Long Post Lotad. We've gone past the need for that. What we have here is a Deep Post Lotad.
(god it's one am as i write this and i am incredibly sleep deprived, i really hope this long walk to a bad joke lands for at least some)
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ladysarai · 3 months
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@inception30daychallenge Day 3: A post-canon headcanon
Arthur and Eames completely disregard Dom's rules and go hole up in a hotel suite for a long weekend (or a week), phones off or silenced the whole time. They mostly sleep (well, Arthur sleeps after being sleep-deprived for years) and have sex and do a lot of Talking--about their past, about this time they've been apart, and about what they want for the future. They don't necessarily decide to, but after Inception, they only accept jobs together.
One day, one of them looks around and realizes that they live together and every facet of their lives are so interconnected that they may as well be married. And so: "We've got a long weekend coming up. Want to get married?"
And they do. Quietly, just the two of them. They don't tell anyone, because it's just for them. Ariadne figures it out because Arthur mentors her and she's smart, and also has eyes--she sees the rings. Yusuf figures it out because Eames casually begins referring to Arthur as his husband. No one knows how Saito figures it out, but he sends them a lovely wedding gift.
Cobb doesn't figure it out until everyone is over for a barbecue and Phillipa climbs into Arthur's lap and announces, "I'm glad you married Uncle Eames, but I wanted to be your flower girl."
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arcadian-litterateur · 8 months
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sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader
𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.
word count: 8k holy—i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg
warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks
a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.
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“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”
𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.
“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart. 
I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.
“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.
“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”
My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.
In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.
“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.
“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.
“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,
“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.
Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.
I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.
“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”
“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much. 
There's only so much comfort a video call can give.
Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.
When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased. 
I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.
“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.
“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him. 
Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?” 
I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.
“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.
“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.
“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.
“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.
“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”
“His flight's on my birthday.” 
“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals. 
“How is that perfect?” I huff.
“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!” 
I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?” 
“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.
“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said. 
And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.
Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.
When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.
_______________________________
𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face. 
In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.
Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice. 
“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.
“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?” 
Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?
“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.
Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim. 
Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.
“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.
“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.
“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now. 
We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time. 
_______________________________
𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep. 
Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.
“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight. 
“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself. 
“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.
“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid. 
“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.
“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.
I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast. 
When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.
A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.
And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.
“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes. 
“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.
“We love you,” Sonya adds.
“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”
The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.
I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.
_______________________________
𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous. 
But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?
If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know. 
Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances. 
I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.
I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.
Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.
“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic. 
“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.
“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,
“I’m sorry.” 
Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.
“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.
“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.
“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”
“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight. 
Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,
“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.
Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.
“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.” 
Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.
I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.
“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.
“Teresa? Wha—” 
“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.
“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.
“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.
“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”
“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.
“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud. 
“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.
“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.
“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.
“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.
“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.
“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.
“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”
“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!” 
“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.
_______________________________
“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money. 
“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp. 
“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them.
“But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!” 
“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.
Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights. 
“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives. 
Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.
“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them. 
With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact. 
And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.
And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.
_______________________________
𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted. 
Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.
I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin. 
“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.” 
She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”
“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain. 
At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable. 
I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly. 
I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.
The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.
When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy. 
I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.
One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.
I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.
Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.
I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time. 
Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.
I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.
All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in. 
I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings. 
“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.
“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!” 
I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.
Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport. 
It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.
I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way. 
It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.
His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be. 
He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb. 
“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.
“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.” 
“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.
“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.
“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look. 
“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.
“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart. 
“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”
Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.” 
“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.
“Not possible.”
“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.” 
“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”
“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,
“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world. 
“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper. 
I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me. 
Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.
Right where I’m supposed to be.
the end
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macgyvermedical · 6 months
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Do you know how our understanding and treatment of diabetes has changed through history?
Oooh good question, anon!
As you may guess, diabetes mellitus is not new.
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We've known about it since at least the Ebers Papyrus (1550 BCE) when the disease and a treatment was first described. This treatment was: "a liquid extract of bones, grain, grit, wheat, green lead and earth." I did not look these up, but I would guess they did not do a whole lot for the treatment of diabetes.
Later during the 6th century BCE it was first given a name when it was described by Hindu physician Sushruta as madhumeh or "honey urine."
Honey urine is a very apt descriptor for diabetes. In any type, one of the most measurable symptoms is that the person urinates a lot, and the urine tastes sweet (or, if one didn't feel like tasting, that it ferments, or that it attracts ants). This was also the first test for diabetes.
The reason for the sweetness of the urine (as well as a lot of other general info about diabetes) is spelled out more clearly in my "Don't Be That Guy Who Wrote Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters" post.
A Greek physician Apolonius of Memphis named it Diabetes, meaning "to siphon" (referring to the large amount of urine lost).
Roman physician Aretaeus later made the first precise description of diabetes. This included the classic symptoms of incessant thirst, copious urination, and constant hunger leading to emaciation and death. He also notes that if deprived of water, the patient will continue to urinate until they become so dehydrated that they die.
The term "Mellitus" was not added until the 1600s by an English physician Thomas Willis. This was again due to the sweetness of the expressed urine. Willis prescribed a diet of "slimy vegetables, rice, and white starch. He also suggested a milk drink which was distilled with cypress tops and egg whites, two powders (a mixture of gum arabic and gum dragant), rhubarb and cinnamon". Supposedly his patients improved if they kept to this diet, though few managed it long term. I honestly don't know how it would have worked, even temporarily.
A major breakthrough came in 1889 when it was discovered that if you removed the pancreas from a dog, the dog would become diabetic (particularly, that it would urinate large quantities of sweet urine). Up until this point it was thought that diabetes stemmed from the kidneys and bladder, or perhaps the lungs. This was the first time it had been shown experimentally that the pancreas was the problem.
Speaking of this, this was also part of a series of experiments where an English physician named Merkowski implanted a small amount of pancreas in the pancreas-less dog's fat, which reversed the diabetes temporarily. This proved that the pancreas was making something that helped regulate blood (and thus urine) sugar.
What this was wasn't figured out until 1921, when Canadian scientists Banting and Best (with help from McLeod and Collip) isolated something they called insletin (after the islets of langerhans, where the substance was being produced). It's important to note that all of these scientists hated each other so much they almost refused a Nobel Prize over it. Later, Collip would refine the substance and McLeod would rename it insulin.
Prior to insulin existing there was basically 1 vaguely useful treatment for diabetes. Unfortunately, that was starvation. So you could either die a slow and painful death by diabetes or you could die a slightly less slow but still painful death due to eating about 500 calories per day. Either way, diabetes was fatal, usually within a couple of years of diagnosis.
By 1923, the first commercial insulin product, Iletin, had been developed. Iletin was a U10 insulin (10 units per 1 milliliter- less potent than today's U100 and U500 insulins) and was made from pork pancreases. It took nearly a ton of pork pancreas to make 1oz of insulin. Fortunately, as a byproduct of the meat industry, pancreases were readily available.
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Now, you might be thinking- no one has mentioned type 1 or type 2 yet in this entire post!
Well, you would be right, because diabetes wouldn't be split into 2 forms (insulin-dependent and non-insulin dependent) until 1979, and wouldn't be classified as types 1 and 2 until 1995. That's right- some of you were alive when there was only one kind of diabetes out there.
Now, there's more about the types in the Hansel and Gretel post, but essentially type 1 diabetes occurs when the pancreas itself stops producing insulin, usually in childhood. When this happens, the body stops being able to use sugar (insulin, a hormone, acts as a "key" to let sugar into cells for use). Without replacing that insulin, the person dies because their cells starve.
Type 2 diabetes occurs when the pancreas still produces insulin, but the cells stop responding to it correctly. This causes high sugar levels in the blood, which causes longer-term complications (infections, ulcers, blindness, neuropathy, heart and kidney disease, hyperosmolar syndrome, etc..) which eventually lead to death.
We started discovering oral drugs that worked on what would later become type 2 in the 1950s. Particularly those that worked by increasing the insulin output of the pancreas, but only when the pancreas was still producing some insulin.
Predicting which diabetics would benefit from oral therapies was challenging, but it was recognized that when the onset of diabetes was slow and came on in adulthood, the oral agents would work, while if it came on suddenly in childhood, the oral agents wouldn't. Terms like "adult onset" and "maturity onset" were common:
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(Side note: if you have ever read Alas, Babylon (1955) there is a diabetic character who by today's standards clearly has type 1 diabetes, but wants to switch to the "new oral pill" (called "orinase" in the book, though they are likely referring to diabinese pictured above).)
From 1923 into the 1980s, insulin was given once or twice per day, and not particularly titrated to blood sugar. This was probably just because we didn't have a great way to measure blood sugar in real time. Pre-1970s, there was no way to test blood sugar outside of a lab setting.
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Urine testing was common starting in the 1940s, but was cumbersome as it required a flame for heating the urine. By the 1950s, a test had been developed that didn't require a flame, but was still not practical for home use. In the 1960s, paper strips were developed that changed color for different amounts of sugar in the urine. The problem with this was that the strips couldn't change color until there was sugar in the urine- a blood sugar level of over 200 by today's measurements. Low blood sugar readings were impossible at this time, and had to be treated based on symptoms.
In the 1970s, blood sugar could finally be measured by putting a drop of blood on a test strip, wiping it off, and matching the color of the test strip to a chart. While less cumbersome than urine tests, this was still something that would generally only be done at a doctor's office.
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In 1983, the first home blood glucometer is developed. Finally, it was practical to take one's sugar multiple times per day, and it becomes possible to experiment with "sliding scale" insulin injections that keep tighter control of blood sugar. By the late 90s, continuous glucose monitors became available- though unlike today's CGMs that allow readings in real time on a smartphone or monitor, these had to be downloaded to a computer at regular intervals.
The 1980s were the first decade where insulin pumps become widely available. The very first pump was large and had to be carried in a backpack, but it represented a huge step forward in glucose control, as it more closely mimicked the function of a working pancreas than once-daily injections.
For the next 30 or so years you really had to work to qualify for an insulin pump, but recently it's been found that pumps greatly improve compliance with blood glucose control whether or not the person had good compliance before getting the pumps, and insurance has gotten better about covering them (though CGMs are still a pain to get insurance to cover).
The 1980s was also the decade that recombinant human insulin (insulin made by genetically modified bacteria) was first used. Up until that point the only insulins were pork and beef insulins, which some people had allergic reactions to. Recombinant insulin was closer to regular human insulin than beef or pork, and represented a big change in how insulin was made.
Today for people who take insulin to manage their diabetes, insulin is usually given as a single injection of a long-acting basal insulin, coupled with smaller doses of ultra-short-acting insulins with meals or snacks. This is the closest we've gotten to mimicking the way a pancreas would work in the wild, and keeps very tight control of blood sugar. This can be done by fingerstick blood sugar tests and individual injections of insulin, or it can be done with a CGM and pump- it just depends on the resources available to the person and their personal preference.
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