#knowing that I've been in therapy for more than three years by now it feels more like a sign that it just won't get better at all

[icantdothistodaybruh]

some silly doodles to take my mind off of things🕊

ref

[kiwriteswords]

I Promise You This

Chapter Three: I've Overcome The Blow, I've Learned to Take it Well

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: Chronic illness, reader with past abusive relationship, canon-typical violence, canon-typical themes, language, future sexual themes

Rating: Mature for mature themes and future chapters.

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Y/N, the newest and youngest profiler in the BAU, is haunted by her past—an abusive relationship and an illness she keeps hidden from her team. Though skilled in her work, she distances herself emotionally, fearing vulnerability. Aaron Hotchner, her reserved and perceptive boss, begins to notice the cracks in her carefully constructed walls as they navigate high-stakes cases together. Drawn to her resilience, Hotch finds himself increasingly protective of Y/N. As their bond deepens, both must confront their own emotional barriers, leading to an unexpected connection amidst the darkness of their work.

AN: Thanks for the wonderful feedback on the re-write of chapters one and two! I have received many requests for a tag list, which I originally had for the story back in 2021, but I have updated that as well, and that can be found here. I start a new job tomorrow so my re-writing and new posts may be a little slow, so apologies in advance! xx

Masterlist | I Promise You This | Ao3

You sat in your usual seat on the jet, arms crossed and gaze fixed on the dark night outside. You didn’t acknowledge Emily, JJ, Morgan, or Reid as they filed in behind you. The tension was palpable, and everyone could feel it. They’d heard the argument at the police station—how could they not?

Getting pulled aside by Hotch had blindsided you. It wasn’t how you operated. At your first job, you’d climbed the corporate ladder faster than anyone else, becoming the youngest manager in the company’s history. You weren’t the teacher’s pet type, but your professors had always treated you as an equal. Even in the local task force, your superior had been more friend than boss, someone you still considered your closest confidant despite the thirty-year age gap.

You had always been someone people trusted to get things done without question. Growing up in a house where you were more of a friend than a child to your parents had shaped you into that. But it came at a cost. It forced you to grow up quickly—too quickly. You still remembered handing over your babysitting money at twelve to keep the heat on. Your teenage years had been a blur of hospitals, white coats, and endless tests as doctors tried to figure out why your body kept betraying you.

You didn’t know how to handle being scolded. Not as a child, not as a teenager, and certainly not now as an adult. That was perhaps why you had once allowed yourself to stay in a relationship where every move seemed to disappoint someone you trusted. That thought was too heavy to unravel, so you stuffed it down for later, cursing yourself for quitting therapy all those years ago.

Behind you, Hotch and Rossi stepped off the SUV and into the plane, the car ride having passed in silence. Rossi could sense the turmoil simmering inside Hotch; he knew the signs.

“You need to stop beating yourself up, Aaron,” Rossi said as he closed the door. Hotch sighed, pausing at the steps to the jet.

“I feel like an idiot,” Hotch muttered. “It’s my job to know when someone is lying, and I failed. And with something so—” He couldn’t find the words. It was you. You, of all people: quiet, compassionate, and steady. Someone he had come to rely on, even admire.

Rossi shrugged as he stepped up the stairs. “Y/N’s a private person. How could you have known? She’s an excellent agent, but outside of the job... none of us really know her.”

Hotch nodded, but the self-recrimination lingered. He shook his head, took a breath, and boarded the plane.

Once inside, he scanned the team. JJ was showing Reid a picture of Henry; the rest engaged in small talk or resting. You, however, sat alone, staring out the window. Hotch hesitated for a moment before deciding to face what needed to be addressed. He took the seat across from you.

“Y/N,” Hotch began, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

You didn’t look up at first, but something in his tone made you lift your gaze. His expression wasn’t what you expected—he wasn’t angry, just... regretful.

He sighed, meeting your eyes. He still couldn’t believe that someone so resilient could have been through what you described. “I just wanted to apologize,” he said. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

You studied him, unsure how to respond. This was not the Hotch you were used to—the one who always had the answers, who never faltered. “Why would I lie about something like that?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost fragile, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel.

Hotch shook his head, visibly frustrated with himself. “It’s my job to see through lies,” he muttered, looking away for a moment. “What we do... we’re trained to piece together profiles, to find patterns. But you? I realized I don’t know anything about you.”

You furrowed your brow, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I know JJ’s sister took her own life, and that’s why suicide cases affect her more deeply. I know Reid’s mother is schizophrenic, and it shapes how he handles cases involving mental illness. But you, Y/N... you don’t share anything. And when you suddenly did today, I questioned it. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

You leaned back slightly, processing his words. You’d spent so long guarding yourself, keeping the details of your life hidden, that you hadn’t realized how closed off you’d become. Before your ex, you’d been an open book. Now, you kept everything buried, fearful that sharing too much would be seen as a weakness.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, barely audible. You could feel the rawness of your emotions bubbling to the surface, and you fought to keep it in check. “I’m sorry I made you doubt me.”

Hotch’s expression shifted, guilt washing over him. “No,” he said firmly, leaning forward. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. This is my fault. I should’ve trusted you.”

You swallowed hard, his sincerity catching you off guard. “I just... I don’t talk about it. Not with anyone.”

“I understand,” Hotch replied, his tone softening. “But if you ever need to... step back, or talk, or anything, I’m here.”

His words, though simple, held a weight you weren’t used to. People had let you down before—your parents, your friends, and certainly your ex. But Hotch? For some reason, you believed him. He seemed genuine in a way that few people were.

You gave him a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you.”

There was a long pause as both of you sat there, the conversation simmering down but still thick with unspoken things. Finally, Hotch broke the silence with a question you hadn’t expected.

“He’s not still in your life, is he?” His tone was low, but there was a protective edge to it.

You shook your head. “No, he’s not.”

Hotch let out a breath, and you realized he’d been holding it since the start of this conversation. “Good,” he muttered, his gaze flicking briefly to the window before settling back on you.

The conversation lingered between you, a moment of connection that neither of you had anticipated. You hadn’t noticed until now that the rest of the team had fallen asleep. Your eyes drifted out to the night sky, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of peace. 

It was on flights like this that you’d often find solace—an odd kind of freedom, away from everything. It had been where you poured your heart into journals during the worst of times, scribbling out your thoughts when you felt like no one else could understand.

As the plane hummed quietly, you pulled out your phone, putting in one earbud. Hotch, back to reviewing files, didn’t notice until you spoke again.

“I was listening to Jim Croce earlier.”

He looked up, surprised. “What?”

“This morning, before we landed. You asked what I was listening to.”

Hotch blinked, his expression incredulous. “Jim Croce?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching into an almost-smile. “That’s a little before your time, isn’t it?”

You smirked. “I may be the youngest on the team, but I’ve got good taste.”

“You don’t make it easy to remember how young you are.”

You couldn’t quite tell if that was a compliment or just an observation, but you smiled faintly, turning your attention back to the music.

The flight ended soon after, and you found yourself back at the bullpen, staring down at the paperwork you still had to finish. The rest of the team was packing up, ready to head out for the night.

“Y/N, you coming for a drink with us?” Emily asked, slipping on her jacket. “Rossi’s buying!”

The idea of unwinding with a drink sounded perfect, but you glanced at the files stacked on your desk. “I wish, but I’ve got to finish this first.”

Before you could protest further, the file was snatched from your hands. You looked up, startled, to see Hotch standing over you, holding the file.

"It can wait until Monday," he said with a certainty that caught you off guard. Even more surprising was the fact that he was already packed up—coat on, briefcase in hand. For anyone else, it might have been normal, but this was Aaron Hotchner. He was always the last to leave, often staying well into the night to finish paperwork or analyze case details long after the team had gone home. Seeing him ready to go was... strange.

“You sure?” you asked, your surprise evident.

Hotch nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Absolutely. You don’t turn down a free drink from David Rossi.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. It wasn’t just his words; it was the decision behind them. Hotch was notoriously disciplined—methodical, even. He rarely, if ever, joined the team for drinks after a case. His usual excuse was needing to get home to Jack or simply that he had too much work to do. But tonight, something was different. Maybe it was the case. Maybe it was your conversation on the jet. Or maybe it was something deeper—some realization that, despite everything, he needed a moment to just be with his team.

In that moment, you realized how much his offer meant. Hotch wasn't the type to take breaks lightly, but here he was, extending a rare gesture. It was more than an invitation for drinks—it was a sign that, despite the hardened exterior, he valued the team’s bond and maybe even your well-being more than you’d expected.

You laughed softly, the tension in your shoulders easing as you slipped on your jacket. "Alright," you said, a smile pulling at your lips. "Let’s go."

As the two of you walked toward the exit, you couldn’t help but glance at him again. It wasn’t often that Hotch chose to step out of his rigid routine, and it made you wonder what else was on his mind.

For Hotch, tonight was different. It wasn’t just about winding down after a long case. He had spent the entire flight thinking about what you’d shared, about his own shortcomings as a leader, and the cracks in his perception of the people he worked with. You, in particular. He had been wrong about you. That realization weighed on him more than he wanted to admit. He knew that taking a step away from the grind and joining the team for a drink would help bridge the gap he had felt growing between him and his agents—especially you.

For once, the paperwork could wait.

“Hotch, you’re actually joining us for drinks?” Morgan called from across the bullpen, disbelief clear in his voice.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. “Don’t sound so shocked, Morgan.”

“Shocked? Nah. Impressed? Definitely,” Morgan replied with a grin, throwing his arm around Reid as they headed for the door.

You smiled to yourself as you followed the group, Hotch walking beside you. Maybe tonight wasn’t just about letting go of the case. Maybe, just maybe, it was about something bigger—about finding a way to be a little more human in a job that constantly took that away.

TAG LIST:

@zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @jencole214 @indiatuck  @eg-dr3amer3 @crispy-crokee @esposadomd @genevieve-blr @mdanon02727

[rynwritesreid]

Mind games~Spencer Reid

Chapter three~ nothing’s new

Chapter summary: The FBI gives you time off, allowing you time to heal after what happened to you. But after news spreads, someone from your past contacts you, making old wounds resurface, making you turn to none other than Spencer Reid.

Chapter warnings: Talks about the BDSM community and BDSM dynamics. Talks of fainting. Submissive reader and dominant Spencer. Alcohol consumption. Mentions of what happened to you in the previous chapter but nothing serious. Reader cries but Spencer comforts her. Mentions of emotional wounds from previous relationships.

A/N: I might start releasing these every week instead of every other week, but I am not sure. I also hope this is a good description of what BDSM and specifically D/S relationships are like, I know that community gets a lot of really bad stories written about them.

~mind game’s masterlist~

~join the mind games taglist~

Everyone on the team had been looking after you, making sure you were okay. Spencer, however, had been a godsend. He would send you texts throughout the day, even though the man hated technology. He had opened up to you about what he had been through, maybe in hopes of you opening up, or maybe he just wanted to show you he knew how you were feeling. But you didn’t really care, you were just happy that he was no longer horrible towards you.

 

You did want to open to Spencer, to everyone, and let them know what you had seen, but you just couldn’t. And the fact that people from academy had been texting you, telling you they had heard what happened and that they couldn’t imagine how you felt, just made it worse.

It had also made it back to your ex-boyfriend, who after 1 and a half years of ignoring your texts, had decided to call you. Part of you wanted to ignore the call, to push away any connection to the past. But another part of you was curious about what he had to say after all this time.

 

Taking a deep breath, you answered the call. His voice sounded distant and strained as he spoke, "Hey... I heard about what happened. I'm so sorry."

 

The sincerity in his tone surprised you, and for a moment, you were reminded of why you had loved him in the first place. But then reality set in, reminding you of the pain and heartbreak he had caused.

 

"I appreciate your sympathy," you replied coolly, trying to maintain a sense of composure. "But I'm doing my best to move forward."

 

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could almost hear him searching for the right words.

 

"I understand if you don't want to hear from me anymore," he finally said, his voice filled with regret. "I just wanted you to know that I've changed. I've done a lot of soul-searching and therapy since we broke up. I wish I could have been there for you when you needed me."

 

Your grip on the phone tightened as his words struck a chord within you. The longing for closure and understanding warred with the pain and bitterness that still lingered from your past.

 

"It's too late now," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of anger and sadness. "You had your chance, and you blew it."

 

There was silence on the other end, and you could almost picture him taking in a deep breath before speaking again.

 

"You're right," he said quietly. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I hope that someday, maybe, you can find it in your heart to let go of the hurt I caused."

 

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words hit you like a wave crashing onto the shore. The pain of his betrayal resurfaced, threatening to engulf you once again. Part of you wanted to believe in his sincerity, to believe that people could change. But another part of you feared being hurt all over again.

 

"I don't know if I can ever forgive you," you managed to say, your voice trembling with emotion. You didn’t care what he had to say anymore, so you just hung up.

 

You couldn’t hold back any more and you just began to sob. You picked up your phone and decided to call Spencer, it probably would have been smarter to call one of the girls, Spencer wasn’t the only one who understood what you had gone through, but Spencer was the only one who could truly understand you.

 

As the phone rang, your tears continued to flow, blurring your vision and making it difficult to see. The weight of your emotions felt like an anchor dragging you down into a sea of despair. Each ring seemed to echo in the cavernous void of loneliness that had enveloped you.

 

Finally, Spencer's voice broke through the haze of your anguish. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his tone filled with concern.

 

You tried to steady your voice, but it came out choked with sobs. "Spencer," you managed to utter between gasps for air. "I... I need you."

 

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, and then Spencer's voice softened with understanding. "I'm here for you," he said gently. "Take all the time you need, and when you're ready, I'll be right by your side."

 

“I’m ready now Spencer, please.” In that moment, you could hear the urgency in your own voice, the desperation for comfort and solace. The pain of your past relationship had resurfaced, triggering a deep yearning for someone who truly understood you. And Spencer, with his unwavering support and compassion, was the only person who could provide that.

 

Silence lingered on the other end of the line, and you wondered if perhaps you had overwhelmed him with your sudden vulnerability. But just as doubt began to creep in, Spencer's voice filled the void once again.

 

"I'm on my way," he said firmly, his words laced with determination. "Stay where you are. I'll be there as soon as I can."

 

Relief washed over you like a gentle tide, easing some of the turmoil in your heart. You trusted Spencer implicitly; his presence was a balm to your wounded soul.

 

Spencer rushed into Hotch’s office, telling him that you needed someone with you right now, and that he will be back to work as soon as he can be.

 

And Spencer, a man who was always true to his word, was at your door within 20 minutes.

 

You opened the door, your tear-streaked face betraying the pain you had been holding inside. Spencer took one look at you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The warmth of his touch, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, brought a sense of security that you hadn't felt in a long time.

 

"I'm here," he whispered softly into your ear, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You're not alone anymore."

 

You clung to him, seeking solace in his presence, as he led you to the couch and sat down beside you. “You don't have to face this pain by yourself”, his voice was calming, “everyone on the team loves you, they all would be here in a heartbeat for you. I mean they are discussing what to get you for when you come back to work.”

 

You let out a weak laugh, the first sign of a smile since the whole ordeal began. It was comforting to know that you had a support system, a group of people who truly cared about you.

 

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don't know where I would be without all of you."

 

Spencer's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with genuine compassion. "You're stronger than you think," he assured you softly. "And we'll be right here with you every step of the way."

 

In that moment, as you sat there with Spencer by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. The pain and heartache were still present, but now they were tempered by the love and support surrounding you.

 

“Would you like to talk about what happened, or is there something else on your mind?”

 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you were ready to relive the details of the past, but then you realized that Spencer was right. It was time to face what had happened and start the healing process.

 

Taking a deep breath, you began to share your story. The words tumbled out, sometimes in a rush, other times choked with emotion. Spencer listened attentively, never interrupting or judging. He offered gentle words of encouragement, his presence a constant reminder that you were not alone.

 

As you recounted the painful memories, it felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. Each word spoken was an act of defiance against the pain that had consumed you for so long. And with each passing minute, you felt a little bit stronger.

 

When you finally finished, there was a silence that hung in the air, as if the weight of your story needed a moment to settle in. Spencer broke the stillness with a soft sigh.

 

"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, “you should never have had to have gone through that. He will rot in prison. And that ex of yours, he did not deserve you.”

 

You nodded, grateful for Spencer's unwavering support and understanding. His words were like a soothing balm to your wounded soul, validating the pain you had endured. Your heart ached with the realization that you had been in a toxic relationship, but knowing that you were no longer alone gave you the strength to move forward.

 

"Thank you, Spencer," you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes once again. "I don't know how I would have made it through this without you."

 

Spencer's gaze softened, his hand gently wiping away your tears. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "Being there for you is what friends do. We look out for each other."

 

The word "friends" lingered in the air, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Spencer. The connection you shared felt deeper than mere friendship, but you were both still healing from past wounds. It was too soon to explore those feelings, and not long ago, Spencer had shown his dislike for you.

 

*

 

After about two weeks, you were back in the bullpen. Garcia had decorated your desk, telling you that this always make her feel better and she thought it would do the same to you, JJ and Emily informed you on all the gossip you had missed, Hotch had gone full dad mode on you, making sure you were okay, Rossi had invited you over to his for a private cooking lesson, Morgan had told you all the pranks he had pulled on Spencer. Spencer on the other hand seemed to keep his distance, he had smiled at you, but ever since that day he had come over something seemed to have changed.

 

You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was a palpable shift in the dynamics between you and Spencer. He was still kind and supportive, but there was a subtle hesitancy in his interactions with you. It was as if he was holding back, as if there were unresolved emotions swirling beneath the surface.

 

You desperately wanted to address it, to talk to Spencer about what had transpired between you, but you feared that doing so might jeopardize the fragile bond you had built. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if he saw you as nothing more than a friend and confidant?

 

You pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the work at hand. The team had a new case, one that required their full attention. As you discussed the details with your teammates, you noticed Spencer's gaze linger on you for a moment longer than necessary. It was a fleeting look, but enough to make your heart skip a beat.

 

Throughout the day, you found yourself stealing glances at Spencer whenever you could. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a connection that had grown stronger during your time of need. But you both had been through so much already, and neither of you wanted to rush into anything without being sure.

 

As the case progressed, Spencer's presence beside you became more prominent. He would stand just a little too close, his hand brushing against yours as he passed you a file or offered his insights. It was subtle, but it spoke volumes about what he was feeling.

 

Even JJ had commented on it, asking if something was going on between the two of you, but you assured her nothing was going on. But the truth was, you weren't quite sure how to define whatever it was that was happening between you and Spencer.

 

*

 

After the case was over, the team decided to go out for celebratory drinks. This was the first time you had gone out since what had happened to you. You were sat in-between JJ and Garcia, they were both talking about their funniest sex stories and you couldn't help but laugh along with them, grateful for the distraction from your own thoughts. Across the table, Spencer was engaged in a lively conversation with Rossi and Morgan, his laughter ringing out in the crowded bar.

 

You don’t know what compelled you, but you decided to share yours, and you were almost certain Spencer couldn’t hear you.

 

“If you want to mine”, you paused, allowing the girls to give you their full attention, “I told my ex that I was into BDSM and he thought that just meant me calling him daddy. So, when I told him what I was really into, he nearly fainted. It was definitely an interesting and eye-opening experience." The girls burst into laughter, their faces turning red from the combination of alcohol and amusement.

 

The sound caught Spencer's attention, his ears perking up as he turned his head towards you. His eyes locked with yours, and you could've sworn there was a flicker of interest in them.

 

"Wait, what did I miss?" he asked, leaning closer to catch the tail end of the conversation.

 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you glanced at the girls. JJ nudged you playfully, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

 

"Oh, Y/N's just regaling us with her kinky adventures," Garcia chimed in with a teasing smirk.

 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and surprise evident on his face. "Is that so?" he asked, trying to hide a smile.

 

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. The playful conversation seemed to have opened a door, allowing for a light-hearted connection between you and Spencer. You took a deep breath, deciding to seize the moment.

 

"Yeah, well, it was definitely an experience," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But let's just say, I've learned my lesson about dating vanilla guys."

 

Spencer chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I can assure you, I'm far from vanilla," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

 

JJ and Garcia exchanged knowing glances, silently urging you to take the plunge. They had seen the connection between you and Spencer long before either of you had acknowledged it, and they were more than ready to play matchmakers.

 

"So," Garcia interjected with a sly grin, "are we going to sit here and talk about kinks all night, or are you two going to finally address the elephant in the room?"

 

“I-erm what elephant?” you asked, there was hint of confusion in your voice.

 

“Oh, come on.” JJ stated “Even when Spencer hated you, he couldn’t take his eyes of you.”

 

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly, his gaze shifting nervously between you and JJ. You could see the internal battle raging within him, the fear of rejection warring with his desire for something more.

 

Finally, Spencer took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to speak. "I... I have to admit," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when I claimed to dislike you, I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards you. You're intelligent, compassionate, and..." He trailed off, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reciprocation.

 

A warm smile spread across your face as you reached across the table, gently placing your hand on top of Spencer's. "And what?" you prompted softly.

 

He let out a shaky laugh, his fingers intertwining with yours. "And beautiful," he finished, his voice filled with sincerity.

 

JJ and Garcia exchanged triumphant glances as their matchmaking efforts paid off.

 

“You know, I think it’s time you two go home, so you can discuss this somewhere Hotch can’t hear you.” Emily said in a hushed tone.

 

You and Spencer laughed, realizing that your friends were right. It was time to have a more private conversation about the growing feelings between you. As the night came to an end, you and Spencer found yourselves outside the bar, away from prying ears.

 

The air was crisp, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. You leaned against the side of the building, facing Spencer who stood only a few feet away. There was a comfortable silence between you as you both took a moment to collect your thoughts.

 

Finally, Spencer spoke up, his voice filled with vulnerability. "I never meant to push you away before. I was scared...scared of opening myself up to someone, scared of getting hurt. But seeing what you went through, how strong you were...it made me realize how much I care about you."

 

Your heart swelled at his words, grateful for his honesty. "Spencer, I understand why you acted the way you did. We've all been hurt before, and we all have our own ways of protecting ourselves," you replied softly. "But I want you to know that I care about you too, and I'm willing to take the risk if it means we can be together."

 

Spencer's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of relief and hope. "You would really give us a chance?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as you stepped closer to him. "Yes, Spencer, I would. I would give us a chance," you confirmed, your voice filled with certainty. "Because the truth is, Spencer, I've been falling for you ever since the first case I worked.”

 

Spencer's eyes widened, surprise mingling with joy. "Really? Even when I was being an insufferable jerk?"

 

You chuckled softly. "Especially then," you admitted. “But I do have to know what you mean when you say your far from vanilla.”

 

Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson. "Well," he stammered, "I've always had a... deep fascination with role-playing scenarios and exploring different power dynamics." He paused, his gaze searching yours for any sign of judgment or discomfort. “And I can say I enjoy being the dominant one more.”

 

“Is that so? What have been your favourite scene you’ve done so far?”

 

Spencer cleared his throat, a bashful smile playing on his lips. "Well, one of my favourite scenes involved a classic teacher-student dynamic," he confessed, his voice laced with excitement. "I got to play the strict professor, and she was my eager and naughty student."

 

Your eyebrows raised in surprise and curiosity. "Oh? And how did that play out?"

 

He chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let's just say there were some detentions and extra credit assignments involved," he replied coyly. "It was all about the power play and the thrill of breaking the rules within the safety of our consensual role-playing."

 

He then once again looked to see if you were unconformable. “What about you? What do you enjoy.” He asked.

“I, erm- well I enjoy being the submissive one. I was in a dynamic relationship with someone, and they gave me a necklace to wear, to show I belonged to them. They used to tell me what outfits I could wear when going out.”

 

Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Did you enjoy the feeling of submission, or was it more about the trust and surrender that came with it?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine interest.

 

You took a moment to consider his question before answering honestly. "It was a combination of both," you replied, your voice soft but unwavering. "There was something incredibly liberating about giving up control and trusting someone else to take care of me. It allowed me to let go of my responsibilities and just be in the moment."

 

Spencer nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he took in your words. "I understand," he said quietly. "The power dynamics in BDSM can be incredibly nuanced and fulfilling when both parties are open and communicative about their desires and boundaries."

 

"Would you ever consider exploring that dynamic with me?" you asked cautiously, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. “I mean, I would still be the submissive one.”

 

Spencer’s eyes softened, filled with warmth and reassurance. He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. "I would be honoured to explore that dynamic with you," he replied softly. "But only if we establish clear boundaries, practice open communication, and ensure that both of our needs are met."

 

You smiled, relieved by his understanding and respect for the importance of consent and communication in such exploration. "I couldn't agree more," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "We'll take it slow, step by step, and create a safe space for both of us to express ourselves."

~taglist~

@iluvreid @drspencerreidsthings @amatheuni@i-heart-mgg @Liidiaaag@wyntersstuff@brilliantreid @donttrustlove@btsiguess-kpop @bellesmith628 @lunaticgurly @Oureternalbond@somethingsmart123 @ula-revolution @pleasantwitchgarden @vvampwebb @alysena2 @sujan39 @nini123 @xoxo-lyss @rory-cakes @marantha @http0kms0jpg @peppersapro @mommymilkers3000@spicycalabaza @shinixpo@dr-reidsslut@donttrustlove@miss.dianaa@potatochip-111 @stars-n-stuff15 @nugget1234567@00047c@carley12041@earth2stxr@cosavuoi-me@sewmxx @bibissparkles @frgtmenotes @mdanon027 @drreidsfavwhxre@yourfavoritefangirl @sunnyyyyyyyynnus @mega-kittyglitter-1 @loliakeoghan23 @7bel-o@dreamsarebig @kohordosara16@ashlynt @waywardhunter95 @millreid0607@spencerstits @ruby-d1amond @harrrystyles5 @maoricth @sarcasm-and-stiles @r-3dlips @khxna @k3nz13a @reidtopia @danelhi@fictionallifestuff @girl_lost_not_found@bbggarcia@b0nesnotcals@super-btstrash-posts @blacksoul-27@reidsgirlhottie@alexxavicry @olives-and-sunshine @skulliecadaver-blog

[kikitakite]

@fantasyfictionfables

I was going to reblog some of your posts because I wanted to discuss your takes on Mystra, but then I found out you're a Christian conservative who hates gay people.

No gay person thinks their sexual orientation is their identity, but it's absolutely PART of their identity, just as being straight is part of yours. You can claim otherwise, but it determines who you might love and marry and that person will one day become a part of you and your identity. It's inevitable. As a wife and mother of three, you should know that better than anyone.

But people from groups like yours shame gay people for exploring that part of themselves and that's why Pride Month exists. Pride isn't "propaganda". It's about marginalized people showing the world they exist and they're not ashamed of it. Parades are also a great way for gay people to meet each other. My bestie met her wife at a march 15 years ago and they've been together ever since. It's beautiful. They have two happy, gorgeous children who wouldn't exist without Pride, because their moms never would've met.

Pride also raises money to help gay teens who've been cast out of their homes and gay refugees who've had to flee their country because being gay is illegal there. It also provides support for gay people who need medical help, therapy for abuse, suicide prevention and more. It's a safe space for people who are often discriminated against and even KILLED just for being who they are. So sorry that seems to bother you.

Your take isn't brave, it's just ignorant and hateful. You didn't have to write that post. Nothing provoked it. You just WANTED to to air your allegiances. And then you turned off comments and reblogs lmfao. For the majority of the year, gay people survive just like us straights. They go about their day and don't even mention being gay. You picked the one month in the entire year that's dedicated to them to complain about their existence and call them "deranged". And then you have the audacity to say you "bear no ill will" towards them? Bullshit.

I can only assume the word "pride" scares you because you're a Christian and it's a sin, am I right? Well here's something ironic: lust is also a sin, yet your entire blog not only consists of Gale thirst posts, but you're also stealing Tim Downie's voice to make audio clips using AI. Hmmm, I wonder if God would approve of a married woman posting NSFW content and using a man's voice for her hedonistic writings without his consent. 🤔

And by the way, as a veteran DnD player I can tell you right now that Mystra has done some absolutely VILE shit to her followers. She's not perfect. None of the gods in DnD are. They're flawed and often cruel. I've seen you compare Mystra and Gale to stories in the Bible, but that almost feels blasphemous. Mystra has a history of evil deeds. She orchestrated Elminster's rape, made sure he had kids and never told him about them. She turned Volo into an anchor without his knowledge. She tortured a peasant because he refused to sleep with her, then killed his wife and punished him for crying about it. And don't even get me started on the "daughters" she created. The third Mystra (who has Mystra and Mystryl's memories) is cruel to Gale as well and the game gives so much context for that. Plus ALL the companions agree she's unreasonable and tell Gale to reject her, and if he does it leads to one of his most satisfying endings. He's happy, he's a teacher, he marries tav and everyone approves. Your way of playing isn't the only right way and people aren't wrong for criticizing Mystra. There's plenty about her that deserves to be criticized, as is the case with every god in the pantheon.

Speaking of, I have nothing against Christians, but I do when they use their faith to shame people and act like total hypocrites.

[justmeinadaze]

My Little Man (Steddie X You) (Part of HFOD and SS Universe)

A/N: I guess you guys would call this season 3? Lol. My angst hella took over as well as some feelings I've been dealing with lately.

Enjoy please <3.

Part of this Universe

Warnings: Demon Steddie & Human Fem Reader, No SMUT in this one, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. Demon Steddie is navigating how to be human while taking care of a pregnant Y/N.

ANGST: More or less the normal level of angst that comes with this series. The theme is grief and PTSD (from a soldiers perspective). Y/N is still struggling with the notion of her parents not being there to see Ellis grow up and the guys (especially Steve) is struggling with being raised how they were and taught to fight. Eddie struggles with feelings of enabling because of everything they went through.

The dreams probably have the most feels. They talk to their loved ones and Ellis says goodbye. Steve has nightmares that involve his dad being a dick (of course) and something that happens within one angers Eddie (blood briefly mentioned).

Word Count: 6398

"Don't you know I love you more than life itself Don't you know that you're my pride And I would not have you walking through this world Without me by your side

Go to sleep my little man Don't you weep my little man"

3 Months Pregnant

Steve sits on the bench outside of the library he had just exited from, sighing heavily as he closed his eyes and threw his head back.

Ever since the three of you got home, he and Eddie had been doing research on which human job they would best be suited for in your realm but were struggling to find much of anything. For him, it was even more difficult since he was raised to be a solider. He genuinely didn’t know how to do anything else and it didn’t help that even though you explained a lot of human behavior, he still felt slightly ignorant with many things. 

“May I sit?” The demon jumped at the sound of a gravelly voice beside him. “Oh, shit. Sorry, son. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s alright. Um, please.”, he gestures towards the area beside him causing the man to flash him a thankful grin as he takes a seat. 

“How long?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I asked how long. I know the look of a fellow veteran trying to figure out how to adapt to a civilian lifestyle. How long has it been since you saw combat?”

“Oh, uh, it’s…it’s been a few years. But I did it the bulk of my life.”

“I can imagine with you being so young. I bet one of your parents was a solider as well?”

“Wow. Yeah, that’s amazing. How did you…?”

“I told you, son. I know the look.”, the man chuckles as he extends his hand. “Truman Duvall; Ex Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army.”

“Steven Harrington. Um, Sergeant in the US Army. Well, Ex.”, Steve laughs nervously as he hopes his memory of things he’s learned about humans in the past is still up to date.

“Nice to meet you. If I may ask, what were you thinking so hard about specifically?”

“My girlfriend is pregnant and I’m trying to find a job so I can help support my family. I want my son to have a better life then I did but I have no idea where to start.”

“Congratulations on the little bundle! I have four myself, two of them grown and out of the house already. My wife pretends like she’s glad they’re out but she misses them.”, he laughs. “I don’t know if you would be willing but down the street here, we have a recreation center where veterans go to relax and let loose. They’ve been looking for a counselor to lead the group therapy. I think you’d be a good fit.”

“Yeah? Um, I guess I could…”

“Look, you don’t even have to make a decision right now. Why don’t meet me there tonight? We’re having a little party get together thing. Of course, you can bring the girlfriend and you both can meet the person in charge. See if you feel comfortable.”

“O-Ok. I, um…” Steve pauses as he debates on if he should tell the truth about Eddie. That was a fight they had when it came to going home. He had been afraid that they would have to hide their relationship and he never wanted to hide or be hidden when it came to the man he loved. But this is also where he wanted to raise his son and he didn’t want to cause a commotion before you four even had a chance to settle in. What would Eddie do?

“Can I bring my boyfriend as well? He’s a veteran to. We actually met during our tour.”

Truman’s mouth pouted out ever so slightly as his eyebrows lifted in surprise. 

“Oh, um, sure! The more the merrier.”

***

“Steven, oh my God, that’s amazing!”, you exclaim as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Hang on, now. I don’t have a job yet but…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, bud.”, Eddie grins from his place on the kitchen counter. 

“I hope it’s ok that I kind of…announced…our relationship. We actually didn’t talk about what we wanted to do but I know if we had stayed in our realm I’d want to be honest.”

The long-haired demon opened his arms and Steve promptly placed himself between his legs with his back against his chest while Eddie rested his chin on his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you did. I love you and I’m not hiding that.”

“Me either.”, you smiled as they beamed right back. 

Suddenly, the happiness drains from your face before you turn and bolt towards the bathroom. You three had been home for a couple of months and within the past week some of the normal symptoms of pregnancy began springing up such as the morning sickness you were currently experiencing. 

“It’s alright, baby. Get it all out.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail. As soon as you were finished, you fell back into his arms and thanked Steve when he handed you a bottle of water. 

“This is normal, right? Humans get nauseas like this.”, he asked. 

“Yeah, honey. It’s normal. I’m alright. I think I’m going to take a nap so I can be 100% for tonight.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to go.”

“No, Steve, I want to go. I want to see where you’ll be and the people you’ll be around.”

################

“Steve! You made it.”, Truman shouts excitedly as he reaches out to shake the boy’s hand. “You must be the girlfriend.”

“Hi. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N. What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman and this is your…boyfriend? Right, son?”

“Yes, sir. This is Edward.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Steve said you’re a veteran as well. Were you a sergeant like himself?”

“Oh, uh, no. I was more of a private I guess you’d say. But we spent a lot of time together especially on the battlefield.”

“Wow and for you two to still be so close and find a relationship through all that chaos! That’s amazing. I always tell my wife if she met me during my tour she would have hated me. A lot of civilians don’t understand the headspace you have to fall into to do what we have to do.”

Both demon’s nod in understanding and you can’t help but softly smile as you watch them interact with the other people around them. Steve was definitely in his element and you could tell in some way he felt more comfortable in this setting because he was around beings who seemed to understand what they both went through. As his new friend spoke, his eyes remained intense and focused as he absorbed everything he said. 

Eddie excused himself to grab some drinks but became distracted talking to another couple and began to laugh at something they were saying. The first time you met him he expressed a particular distain for humans but he seemed to open up more since they were freed, finding something interesting in each person he interacted with. 

“Hey, this is my girlfriend Y/N.”, he introduces when you walk over to check on him. “Y/N, this is Lisa and Shawn Bennett. Lisa did a tour in the Air Force flying jets and Shawn was a DJ overseas.”

“Oh wow. For the military or just on your own?”

“For the military. I’m kind of like that Cronauer guy they made the movie about. I read the reports and played music I thought would lift the troops spirits.”, the man explains. 

“Kind of like me.”, Eddie whispers in your ear making you smile. “What do you two do now if I may ask? Steve and I have been searching for employment but we have no idea what would fit us.”

“Well, I actually own a store of my own selling books and comics; things like that. I’m a bit of a nerd.”, Lisa laughs. 

“And I teach media and music courses at the local community college up here.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun actually. Are they looking for another music teacher because Eddie is an amazing musician.”

“Yeah? Unfortunately, they aren’t but you should consider maybe starting your own business as well. You can teach kids to play guitar or any other instruments you know and you can do it from your house or maybe the music store downtown is hiring.”

“Are you looking for a job to, Y/N? I’m trying to hire someone to help me with my shop.”, Lisa offers with a smile. 

“Oh, I’d love that. I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant though and I wouldn’t want to leave you stranded after you just hired me.”

“That’s fantastic! Don’t even worry about it. You don’t seem very far along yet. I can teach you the ropes before you give birth and that way when you come back, you’ll already know what to do!”

As you glance at Eddie, his eyes widen with encouragement as he nods his head. 

“Ok, I’d love to work for you.”

Lisa claps and gives you a big hug as your demon beams behind you.

***

“Hello fellow veterans, spouses, and partners! Glad you could all join us tonight. I hope you are having some much needed fun! I do have just a quick announcement to make. I would like to introduce you to Steven Harrington who is new to Hawkins and after speaking with him I feel like he will be a great addition to our center here as the group counselor.” The man at the podium smiles as he gestures towards the demon and everyone around the room claps. “Steve, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

When he hesitates, you gently push him forward, urging him softly before he relents and nervously climbs up the makeshift stage. 

“Um, hi. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been seen by so many people.” The people chuckle as you and Eddie grin knowingly. “Like Thomas said, I’m, uh, new to Hawkins but my girlfriend is from here and my partner and I thought it would be better for her to be back home where she felt safe with her family so we can start raising our own. I-I-I…shit I used to better at this.”, he chuckles before glancing your way, your gentle smile comforting him. 

“I was raised in a military household. My dad was a solider so that’s what I was expected to be. As soon as I was able, he handed me a weapon and commanded I train to be the best. There was no wiggle room there. It was all or nothing. When I saw war…I shut down and did what I had to. I took no pleasure in killing, contrary to popular belief.”

“The worst part about shutting down that way was how it flowed into my every day. I was as an asshole to everyone including women I dated and people I trained… except for some of the people closest to me…Robin, Chrissy, and Eddie. When Edward and I got out…I felt so out of control…so lost. I lost my identity and everything I knew. If I didn’t have him by my side… Then we met Y/N and without her we literally wouldn’t be here today.”

Steve paused, looking out into the crowd, and realizing he may be talking too much. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Thank you so much for this opportunity and I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

The people in the room clap as he steps off the stage and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist as Eddie lightly caresses his cheek. 

***

4 Months Pregnant

You beam at Eddie as he softly strums his instrument. That day after Shawn suggested it, he went down to the music store in town and applied for the job as a guitar instructor. After playing and showing off for them he got the job. He loved hearing the kids try and play reminding him of the children he watched over with Steve during their war. 

Today was everyone’s day off so they were being lazy in bed with you in your pajamas and both demons in nothing but their sweats. 

“Ok, this thing here says for humans you should be feeling him move around now.”, Steve announced as he gestured towards the book he was reading. 

“I haven’t felt him move yet unless the occasional nausea is him saying hello.”, you giggle. Leaning over him, you grab his hand and place it on the middle of your stomach. “Talk to him.”

“Uh, I…hey, Ellis. It’s, um, your daddy. I’m not scaring him with my voice, right?”

“No, baby.”, you grin as you pet his head. “This is how he’ll get used to it though. Hearing and seeing you both in your demon form.”

“Buddy, you have no reason to be afraid of us in any form. I’m sorry your dads aren’t as beautiful as you and your mom but—”

“Hey, speak for yourself.”, Eddie teases making you laugh. “I’m a sexy motherfucker.”

“Oh.”

“What?”, Steve’s eyes shift up excitedly. 

“You didn’t feel that?”

When he shakes his head, you place his hand closer to the side you felt movement, gesturing for the other demon to do the same.

“Say something else.”

“Hey Ellis. This is your other daddy and I assure you we are very handsome.”

“Holy shit.”, Steve exhales as he grins up towards his partner. “That’s amazing.”

“I’m glad you agree, kid.”, Eddie smiles.

***

6 Months Pregnant

Eddie growls at the crib he was trying to assemble as his glowing red eyes glare at the instructions again. Over these past couple of months, you three had made your dad’s old room your bedroom and begun shifting the room you used to sleep in into Ellis’s. 

Going off his personality from your dreams, you painted the room blue with images of guitars along the base boards and up along the ridges of the ceiling. Near where his crib would be, you put up pictures of everyone in his family that loved him including Robin, Wayne, Dustin, and everyone who had passed that he had been conversing with these past six months. 

The boys were able to get everything a baby would need from your realm but also from theirs including those books that Eddie had wrote and some toys demons normally played with at a young age. 

“Whoever invented these contraptions should be tortured for eternity.”, Eddie grunted as he tried again putting a few of the pieces together. 

“You guys don’t have cribs in your realm?” 

“Yeah but they were like boxes essentially. Or at least mine was. I’m sure Steven had gold porcelain or some shit.”

“No.”, Steve chuckled as he took the wrong part from his partner’s hand and handed him the correct one. “I had a regular little wooden thing with soft blankets.”

“I wish I could see what you two were like as kids.”

Since they left Maeve, they weren’t able to snap memories into your head like they were before. It hurt them more than you because you always seemed curious about them and they wished they could show you everything from their point of view, not Henry’s or Mirage’s. 

“How much did Mirage show you?”

“She showed me big events more than anything. Steve always looking for his parents especially your mom. She did play sword fight with you once and you looked so happy until your dad yelled at her for ‘ruining your training’.” You rolled your eyes as Steve pet your head and sighed. “Eddie, I did see what your uncle told me about with your mom singing to you.” The demon’s glow receded in his eyes as he glanced your way with a small smile. 

“Until my father told her to shut up?”

Tilting forward, you crawled over his work to kiss his lips making his smile widen as he caressed your face. 

“What about your parents, honey?”

“Both my parents were amazing. My dad always loved to make us laugh. He liked being a girl dad and my mom exploited that.”, you giggle. “She would make him wear tutus while I would do his makeup and they both would dance.”

A tear left your eyes and both demons promptly gave you their attention. 

“I’m sorry you guys don’t have your parents here. You both deserve better.”

“Baby, it’s ok—”

“Eddie it’s not okay.”

“Will you let me finish?”, he jokes. “It’s ok because I had my mom and I had Wayne. Then as I got older I got my other family. Steven, Robin, Chrissy, and even Dustin. Now, sweetheart, I have you two and Ellis. I couldn’t be happier.”

“I agree. I’m thankful for the memories I do have with my mom but the kids I trained and beings I fought with…that was my family. I’m so excited to see what’s in store for us, you know. See what Ellis is going to do with his life.”

You smiled as you kissed their lips before you wince and lean away. 

“Ow. Little butthead is kicking my side.”

“Hey, kid.”, Eddie teases as he tilts towards your tummy. “Why don’t you stop hurting your mother and come help me make your torture technic of a crib.”

###############

8 months Pregnant

You, Steve, and Eddie walked into the house you three had been in so many times these last few months except now it was completely empty. All the furniture and everything was completely absent as you entered the living room full of people.

“Ellis?”

Everyone in the room moved out of the way to where Eddie’s mom was hugging her grandson to her chest as he sobbed. 

“I don wanna go!”

“You have to, baby. Your mommy and daddies need you now. They’ve been waiting so long to see you.”

“Mom?”, Eddie asked as he stepped towards her. “What’s going on?”

She softly smiled as she handed him to your father who spun him around as he chuckled but your son just buried his face further in his neck. 

“Come on, little guy. Your parents have made you an awesome bedroom and knowing my daughter she’s going to show you so many amazing things.”

The little boy shook his head as your dad kissed his temple before handing him to your mom. 

“Steven, remember, you once told me that everything would be ok and you were right. I’ve watched you both take care of my baby and I assure you, you both are going to be more than ok. You are going to be amazing parents.”

He beamed at him as he wrapped his arms around the demon and pulled him in for a hug. 

Your mother grinned as she reached out to touch your face as you started to cry. 

“I’m scared to do this without you.”, you whisper. 

Your parent’s smiles widen as she kisses her grandson and places him in your arms. 

“We’re not going anywhere. We’re always right here.”, she soothes as she points to Ellis’s forehead. “Right behind that door, honey.”

“I love you.”, you son coos as each grandparent reciprocates his affection. 

As both your demons come to your side, you look down to no longer see a toddler but a newborn baby wiggling in your arms. Steve gently pets his head as Eddie reaches for his tiny hand that immediately clings to his finger. 

All of your eyes shoot open but yours is followed by a grunt as you place your hands on your stomach. 

“Fuck! I think…”

They don’t waste any time as they collect you and your things before rushing towards the hospital. 

***

“How long are they going to keep him back there?”, Eddie growled as he held your hand.

“Calm down. Y/N said this was normal. They need to clean him, check his vitals, and all that.”

“Yeah, but Steven, what if something comes up in those vitals that frightens a human.”

The other demon’s eyes flash red in warning in his direction as a low rumble leaves his chest. 

“Maybe we should have had him in your realm.”, you respond groggily as your heavy eyes shift their way. 

“Baby, don’t let Edward scare you, ok? He’s fine. He’s got more human in him right now than anything. Dustin said he would grow into his demon parts.”

“He also said we’re the first couple ever to do this so…”

“Edward Munson, I swear—“, Steve’s anger was cut short when the door to your hospital room opened and a nurse casually sauntered in.

“Hey Munson-Harrington family.”, she smiles. “We have little Ellis here fast asleep and everything looks good. Mommy, how are you feeling?”

“Like I gave birth.” The nurse laughs at your joke as your demons roll their eyes. “I’m alright. A bit exhausted.”

“Yeah, that’s normal, sweetheart. Good news is your baby is in perfect health. Would you like to meet him?” Your eyes fully open as you sit up, smiling softly when she places him in your arms.  “I’ll come check on you three in a bit.”

Tears start to fall as you fully take him in. Right now, he seemed like a completely normal child with soft skin and just a sliver of brown hair poking out of his blue beanie. 

“Hey, honey. You’re so handsome. I’m your mommy.”, you coo in a whisper as you kiss his forehead. “Oh my god, he smells so good.”, you laugh as you look their way. 

Eddie was the first to step forward, sitting beside you on the bed as he caressed his son’s chubby little cheek with his finger. 

“Holy shit. He’s so soft.”, he breathes. “You’re perfect, kid.”

Steve finally takes a seat as well and reaches out to feel his tiny hand. 

“He’s warm to. Is that normal?” When you nod, he almost breathes a sigh of relief. “Ellis, we’re your daddies. You ARE perfect, oh my god.”

The baby squirms a bit in your hold giving them pause before pulling away. 

“I think that was his way of saying thank you.”, you smile. 

###########

3 Weeks Old

“Fascinating.”, Dustin muses as he rocks Ellis in his arms while swaying around the living room. “He really does look just like a little human with the soft skin and everything. Nothing has stood out?”

“Can you stop analyzing our baby and just enjoy him?”, Eddie snaps as he sighs. 

“No, nothing.”, you giggle, answering his question. “And so far he seems to eat but not as much as normal babies.”

“How so?”

“Babies are supposed to eat every two hours; we’ve been feeding him every six. I was worried at first but we just took him the doctor and she said he was healthy. When I tried to give him a bottle every two he would cry and push at my hands.”

“Interesting. That has to be hard, Y/N. Him not being able to verbally tell you things like that. I hated when my kids cried in general but you…you still have that whole trial and error thing going.”

Glancing towards your demons, Eddie had fallen asleep with his head nestled in Steve’s lap on the couch who was already napping when Dustin arrived. 

“It is. I appreciate everything you’ve done for us though and I know they do to. I’ve been keeping a record like you suggested should this ever happen for anyone else.”

“Good.” When he notices your gaze shift again, he takes a seat on the floor beside you and lays Ellis on the blanket between you both. “Everything ok with you three?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little worried. They were both already so protective over me and now that he’s here… Steve’s been having nightmares. He pretends he doesn’t but I hear him groaning in his sleep and feel him wake up. I asked him the other night if he still has access to my dreams and he said he can’t find the door anymore.”

A tear fell down your check as Dustin reached out to comfort you. 

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Eddie’s attitude has been a lot shorter lately. He’s exhausted and worried about the three of us. He triple checks everything to the point that I find him asleep on the floor by Ellis’s crib because he’s too tired to make it back to our bed and would just rather be closer to his son just in case.”

“What about you? Besides the worry I mean.”

“I know I’m probably being paranoid but sometimes I feel like we’re being watched. It may just be because of our dynamic. I know not everyone is excepting like the new friends we’ve made but no one has said anything… I don’t know. Just…mom brain maybe.”

“Hm, maybe. Keep an eye on that. From what you’ve told me, you’re always pretty intuitive. Wouldn’t want to miss something you know?”

#########

5 Weeks Old

“Oh my god, Y/N, look at him.”, Lisa coos at Ellis as she holds him in her arms. 

“Are you alright, Steve? You look like you haven’t slept.”, Shawn chuckles. 

“Yeah, I’m doing alright. Just…little guy keeping me up.”, he forces a smile. 

Your friends were having a get together for veterans and their families and since Steve worked at the center you suggested you three should go and be seen. Truthfully, you thought it would be good for them both to get out of the house as well as having him specifically spend some time with his new veteran friends to talk about anything that may be weighing on his mind causing his nightmares.

As the night wore on you noticed their soft grins return to their faces as he and Eddie mingled with the people around them. They radiated warmth as they talked about their son and everything he had done with his short little life so far.

“Have you guys started baby proofing yet? I swear when my daughter started crawling it was like she knew which areas were the bad ones!”

“Oh no, not yet. He did smile at Y/N the other day. Ellis has a beautiful little grin.”, Steve boasts.

“At that age usually it’s just reflexive. They see you guys smiling so…”

“Isn’t that all babies though? Like that’s how they learn?”, Eddie genuinely asks as the dads around him laugh. 

“Yeah but who knows some babies are different! You may just have an extremely happy baby who couldn’t wait to show you guys how much he loves being here.”

Time passed and a few of the guests left, leaving the main few that you had really gotten to know. You all sat in the living room while Eddie patted his son’s back as Ellis slept soundly. Steve tenderly petted the baby’s head as you beamed at them from your place in the chair across from them. 

“So how has everything else been going?”, Thomas asks as he chugs back some of the beer in his bottle. 

“Everything has been good, man. Just focusing on them, ya know?”

“Yeah, I understand. When my son was born, that first night I checked on him every hour on the hour. Then for some reason I kept checking on my wife. I knew our son needed us both and I kept thinking ‘What if something happened to either of us?’”

“I can understand that. I, uh, before Y/N and Steve, I lost a lot of people I loved and there was nothing I could do. Now that Ellis is here…it would kill me if anything ever happened to him.”

“Do you have nightmares about it? About losing them?”

“I don’t but Stevie here does.”, Eddie answers causing Steve to toss a glare his way. 

“I do but it’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“I had them to. Sometimes I would dream they were on the battlefield I fought in. I would run to them but I could never quite reach them.”, Thomas sighs at the memory. “What do you dream about?”

“It’s fine really.”

You’re not sure if anyone else heard but you and Eddie did as the demon’s voice fluctuated to his real one for a split second.

“Steven…”

“It’s ok, Y/N. Like I said, I get it. If you talk about it, it gives it validity right? You’d hate to manifest something like that into existence. Someone killing Y/N and your son.”

Steve’s eyes closed as his head ticked to the side. 

“Ok, Tom, I appreciate what you’re trying to do but I’m putting my foot down. You’re going to push him too far and he’s already got enough on his mind.”, Eddie defended rising to his feet and handing you the baby. 

“Ah, you’re the enabler I imagine. You allow him to shelter his feelings so he doesn’t have to deal with them.”

“You’re damn right I do. You humans have no idea what we’ve been through!”

“Interesting word choice. Is that how you separate people from your experiences?”

“Come on, guys, let’s head home.” As the long-haired demon grabbed his boyfriend’s arm, he remained frozen in place. Kneeling in front of him, he cupped his face in his hands. “Steven, it’s ok alright. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Let’s go home and get some sleep, huh?”

When the demon finally opened his eyes, Eddie’s widen in fear; he knew this look all too well. As subtly as he could, he got to his feet and towards the front door with you trailing after him. 

“Steven—”

Once the wind of the outside hit your faces, he expanded his wings, cutting you off as he vanished into the air.

***

“Edward, baby, are you ok?”

Eddie nodded from his place on the floor next Ellis who was sleeping soundly beside him. After laying down as well, he softly smiles your way as he continues caressing the baby’s open hand. 

“DO I enable him, Y/N?”

“Eddie…”

“I just…we went through so much… Every day I had to watch the man I love breakdown. Even when we were out, summoners never treated us with any kind of respect. They knew we wouldn’t be there for long. In our realm, he was hero and with one choice, he was banished and imprisoned…because of me.”

“No, Eddie. Everything you two went through was because of Henry. He killed Chrissy and framed you. Jason didn’t give Steve much of a choice. He was going to disobey orders and hurt you.”

“I always tried to make it up to him… I tried not to show my feelings, pretending I didn’t care we were trapped. Pretending I wasn’t scared and just as angry as he was. I’ve done that my whole life, Y/N. When my mom got sick, I did everything I could to make her laugh so she wouldn’t see how devastated I was. Every time my father came home upset, I acted like I was tough but I was fucking terrified, baby. I was so scared.”

A tear fell from his eye and your immediately wiped it away with your thumb.

“When he fled, I was afraid for my uncle. I didn’t even think twice when I signed up but I was positive I wouldn’t last a month out there on the battlefield. Steven and Robin helped me become a better fighter. With Chris I pretended to be more together than I was. She had enough on her plate at the time and I wanted her to feel safe.”

“It seems like that’s why you pretend, Eddie, so the people you love feel safe.”

Sitting up, he started to cry harder and you immediately crawled to him, curling up in his lap as you held him in your arms. 

The sound you recognized as a portal opening grabbed both your attention as you called Steve’s name.

“Hey, no, sorry. It’s just me. I have him here though.”, Robin answered as she came around the corner with the demon leaning half-conscious around her shoulders. “My girlfriend sent me a message saying he was there at the bar. He had been babbling about how human drinks aren’t strong enough and something about you two and Ellis.”

After leading her to the bedroom, she gently placed Steve onto the mattress. When Eddie entered the room, she smiled when she saw your son’s wide eyes looking back at her.

“He woke up.”, the demon announced as Ellis yawned to emphasis his point. 

“You need to let your parents get some rest, booger.”, Robin coos as she pokes his nose making him smile. 

“Some of our friends said for human babies around this time smiles like that are a reflex.”

“Yeah but he’s not entirely human and that beautiful, drool filled grin didn’t seem reflexive.”, she responded. “It seems like he can handle the demon skin since he’s letting us touch him.”

“Yeah, I think that’s the potion.”, you nod as you reach out to tickle the baby’s chin. “Thank you for bringing Steve back, Robin.”

Softly smiling, she leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Seriously, you and Ellis are so soft—”

“Ay yi, ma’am. This human is ours.”, Eddie playfully scolds as he swats his hand in her direction. 

***

Loud banging and clinking echoes behind the door you’re looking at as smoke occasionally slips through the seams. Taking a long exhale, you reach for the handle but someone tapping your shoulder startles you as you turn and smack the person’s face. 

“Ow! Jesus woman. How many times are you going to pop me?!”, Eddie whines as he rubs his cheek. 

“Edward, how did you—”

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for the door for months. Maybe you finally calmed me down enough to know what I’m looking for.” Nodding, you kiss his lips. “So what’s the plan?”

“I think…this is Steve’s door. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to access his dreams but I haven’t been able to.”

Holding your hand, he carefully turns the knob and you both step through. Glancing down at his attire, Eddie realizes he’s suddenly in his old battle armor and you both are on the battlefield they fought on all those centuries ago. 

“Why am I not in armor?”

“I mean, you weren’t there, baby.”

“What the fuck are you two doing here?!”, Steve’s father shrieks above you as he lands on his feet. “Leave. NOW. My son needs to learn his lesson.”

“YOU’VE been giving him his nightmares?”, you growl.

“Not exactly. He started having them on his own but I’ve been fueling them.”

Shifting your gaze behind him, you both watch as Steve slaughters enemy after enemy, panting as he slowly tires himself out.

“Steven! Do better! You think these fuckers are going to show mercy on your son?! You have to do what I taught you to get the truth!”

Eddie gripped Bill’s throat and angrily threw him to the ground. 

“You made your hell his hell, you fucking asshole. He told me all about you and everything you did to him. You ruined his life enough! Leave him be.”

“Please. He’s doing this to himself. He’s worried about you two peasants and that thing. I’m making him better. Stronger.”

Grabbing a sword from the ground, you lift the handle and point the other end towards his throat. 

“You heard him. Leave Steven alone or else I swear to God, Bill, I will find a way myself to keep you in hell.”

Growling under his breath, he tried to stand but you and Eddie forced him back down with your weapons. Huffing he suddenly disappeared as well as every other solider that had fallen around the other demon. 

“Ed-Edward?”, Steve panted heavily when you noticed you both there. “Y/N? What are you…? It doesn’t matter. We need to get to Ellis or else Henry’s going to kill him. We have to—”

“Baby, look at me.”, Eddie tried to soothe as he cupped his cheeks in his hands. “You’re dreaming ok? Henry is gone and Ellis is in his crib fast asleep.”

“N-No. No? I can hear him. I can hear him crying! Can’t you hear that?!”

“Steven—”

“NO!”, the demon growls loudly as he shoves the man he loves hard backwards. “Who are you?! You’re not Edward. Y-You’re…You’re trying to trick me. Are you Mirage? Did Henry and his dad hire you to stop me?!”

“Steven…”, Eddie cried with worry as he threw the sword he was holding to the ground and held up his hands. “Sweetheart, please, it’s me. I promise. I would never hurt you like that. I would never keep you from our son.”

As he tried to step forward, the other demon shoved him to the ground.

“I-I-I need to get to my son.”, Steve sobbed as his voice cracked. “I know you’re not Eddie. Tell me where he is.”

When he didn’t answer, he pulled back and pushed his weapon downward. 

The sound of your grunt filled their ears as your eyes met Steve’s wide glassy ones. When you both looked down, blood drenched his sword where it had pushed through your stomach and around your back. 

“Baby?”

Looking up at him again, you smiled through the pain as blood dripped from your lips. 

“Why…why does it hurt?”

The three of you opened your eyes at the same time as you sat up clutching your stomach. Lifting up your shirt, there was no wound but it felt so real. You could still feel the stinging pain lingering on your skin. 

Eddie’s head slowly turned meeting Steve’s still shocked expression as is mouth hung open in shock. 

“I—”

The long-haired demon’s growl cut him off as his eyes glowed bright red. 

“Take us to another realm that we can fucking damage NOW.” You didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet with his head hung preparing a portal for them to go through. “Stay here.”

Coming around the bed, he waited for the other demon to finish as you peeked into the world they’d be going to. It was completely baron with nothing but white as far as the eye can see. 

“Fitting.”, Eddie responded in anger as he and the other demon walked inside. 

As the portal began to close, you quickly got up and jumped through right as it disappeared. 

You knew Eddie may be mad but after what happened this wasn’t something you were going to let them handle alone. 

##############

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

@prettypeachsworld @nailbatanddungeon @notlempet

[ordinaryschmuck]

It's been two years since Anne visited Amphibia. Two years since she came back, unable to return. And in those two years Anne had...changed. But not just changed for the better. She was less careless, more responsible, and seemed more certain about what she wanted rather than moving along directionless. That was all well and good, but there were days where she seemed distant. It wasn't common, but there have been days where she'd just sit on the couch, staring at nothing without even focusing on her phone or the TV. And there was this hint of...something in her eyes. Was it sadness? Anger? Fear?

Oum wasn't sure. Whenever she saw her daughter like this, it made her worried because there was something clearly wrong and she wasn't sure what. Oum assumed at first it was because Anne missed the Plantars, but she noticed a bit of a distinction with that. When Anne thought of them, she'd cry and practically demanded to be held. With this? Her face was just blank, with nary a tear in her eyes.

Even now, as Anne laid in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and eating marshmallows with that same exact expression again, it made Oum beyond concerned. Call it a mother's intuition, call it common sense, but she could just tell that Anne needed help with something. Yet all Oum can do is sigh and walk away, leaving Anne to deal with that something alone because there's nothing else she could do.

Oum made her way to Bee's computer room, catching him in the middle of what looks like another video game.

"Honey--"

"Hold on." Bee held up a finger for quick silence. "I'm watching a walk-through on how to find all the hidden cyber-ducks in Mega-Mecha-Man Plus. There's this one in level twenty that's really--"

"Bee, I'm worried about Anne," Oum said clearly. It was enough to get Bee to pause the video and spun around in his chair to face her.

"Is this about her...episodes?" he guessed.

"It just feels like it's happening a lot more now," Oum said, rubbing her arm nervously. "At first it was like every two months, sometimes three, but now it feels like she's going through this once a week. And I don't know what to do when it happens every day."

"Well, I've actually been researching that," Bee said as he opened another tab. "It could be a result of PTSD. I mean, she had to go through some traumatic stuff in Amphibia. Her best friends...did bad things, she was chased a lot by giant bugs and birds, and apparently something happened in their last visit to Amphibia. It wouldn't be too far to assume that it's post traumatic stress."

"Are there any suggestions on how to help her with it?"

"As far as I can tell, the best course of action is therapy."

"So it's a no, then," Oum huffed. "We can't just send her to a therapist. She says one thing about the frog world and she'll get thrown into a padded cell."

"And Mr. X said keep it all hush-hush," Bee added. "So, can't really have her say any of that Frog-vasion stuff was real."

"To anyone. Meaning that Anne's got all this trauma bubbling up inside her and there's nothing we can do to help..." Oum started to tear up, both out of frustration and heartache, with Bee being there to get up and hug her.

"I know, it's a lot," he softly said. "But remember what our therapist said when Anne went missing? We can't just focus on a problem that seems unsolvable. We just need to approach things step-by-step and take time to focus on ourselves when we can. Which is what I'm doing. I'm researching whatever solution I can find and having fun with Mega-Mecha-Man Plus to let my brain relax. Can't help Anne with a burnt-out brain."

"I guess not..." Oum muttered.

"We'll get through this, don't worry." Bee kissed her and returned to his chair, as well as his video. Once he pressed play, he got about ten seconds in before an ad started to play. "Aw, not another ad! And this one's unskippable?! I knew I should have gone with ad block..."

Once the ad buffered, it started with a close up of a woman looking over her shoulder with brown hair and a blush to her cheeks.

"Hey," the woman said. "You lookin' at me? Are you seriously looking at me? Because if you are..."

The video zooms out to reveal that the woman's wearing a graduation gown with a party popper in her hand as she spins around with a bright, wide smile.

"Then you're looking at the new graduate of UCLA's psychology program!" The woman cheered as she pulled the popper, its POP transitioning to her now holding up a picture of a twelve-year-old girl wearing a sweater.

"Hi, I'm Mabel Pines!" The woman said. She then booped the girl's nose in the photo. "And this little angel was me twelve years ago! Can you believe how adorable I was? Well, can you believe that this little girl also suffered from a little something called trauma?"

The video transitions to Mabel now laying on a couch.

"It's true," she said with a sigh. "Some really bad stuff happened to me at that age. Stuff that no one but my brother, Grunkles, and best friends would believe. While talking to them about my issues was fine enough, none of them could really give the insight needed to recover. And it's not like I could go to a therapist about any of it. They'd think I'd be way too crazy when I told them about my biz. That's when I remembered something my Great Uncle Stan once told me: If you can find a professional..."

The video cuts to a new angel of the couch, showing a split-screen shot of two Mabels, one sitting on a chair while the other still laid on the couch.

"Be your own professional!" both exclaimed.

"That's right," the one on the couch said, "The best way I approached my trauma was to learn how to fix it myself, basically becoming my own psychologist!"

"And a great one at that," the one on the chair said with a wink, making Couch Mabel blush.

"Oh, STAWP!" she said as the ad transitioned to her gesturing at a degree. "After figuring out my own issues and crying a whole lot when I did, I realized I could do the same for other kids like I was. Kids who think their issues are too crazy to fix can come and have a chat with good ol' Doctor Pines! You can lay down, have some tea, and even pet a pig!"

The video quick cut to Mabel petting an old pig. "That's right, I said, 'Pet a pig!' And do all of that and more as we go through what's really going on in the center of your brain! Just call this number or visit this address!"

Both a phone number and address zoomed in on the top and bottom of the screen respectfully.

"So come and visit Dr. Pines, and remember: There's nothing too crazy for a woman who probably experienced crazier!" Mabel then winked to the camera just as the ad ended, going back to the walk-through.

"More like there's nothing too crazy for a woman that's already crazier," Bee commented. "That lady sounds like a nut."

"You want to know the best thing about that though," Oum said from behind him.

"What?" Bee turned around again and saw Oum dialing a number into her phone.

"Crazy people are too crazy to believe if they blab someone's secrets," she said, putting the phone to her ear.

"Hang on, you're not serious, are you?"

"I'm seriously desperate," Oum said with a scowl. "Anne needs to talk to somebody, and it might as well be someone who might be too insane for--Hi! Is this, uh, the therapist lady? From the internet? Uh, Doctor Pines, yes. I think my daughter could use your help..."

[tatasoom]

Never have I thought... Last Twilight turned out to be that good that I would like to write not prediction and not bl-related things, but about a thing we all know so damn well - family.

There're two types of comments that makes me sad:

about Day's mother not understanding Day and his love

about Day hating Night too much

I've already written about my parents getting divorced at the same age of mine as Day was. But what if I told you that I also have an older brother, stories of father cheating on mother and a mother always busy with work?..

Take a seat, dear readers, thank you for your attention, I'll try to make it easy to read and maybe put some pictures. I'll tell you what's real in this series and why my heart hurts for all of them!

First of all let me tell you why Day's father hasn't become a problem and later Day even talked to him nicely. I mean REALLY NICELY. The answer is lack of feelings in Day. You can't hate person you barely able to love. You can't be hurt enough by someone you barely remember.

That man cheated on their mother, that man didn't provide his own two children even with food, but all of this exists as a story once told to Day. He loves the idea of being kinda loved by his biological parent, because we all want to be wanted and needed, but the father we've seen in that last two episodes is a stranger we're all getting to know with Day.

Let's leave this man living his life full of regrets and talk about Day's mother. She is THE MOTHER. As we know she discovered being cheated when Day was three (or maybe earlier?), left her propably hometown and spent another two years dealing with a need to divorce. Night was around ten or even less that time. She was maybe thirty. No food, no money and only three of them as she mentioned when giving Mhok a house tour.

And Day's mother actually survived and even succeed. I like the actress chosen for this role. She's beautiful. She looks gorgeous every time we see her. She also must be smart and charismatic to be a famous chef. And still there're only three of them. After around fifteen years (or even more) this absolutely stunning woman is still a single mother of two.

This woman made a fortress that supposed to keep safe from any heartbreak. And this fortress has it's rules.

Have you heard anything about Night's girlfriends? He's already mature enough to have a girlfriend or even a wife. And do you understand now why I think that the fear in Day's eyes everytime Mhok flirts with him at home probably has very little with a sexual orientation?..

The whole family has TRUST ISSUES. Their mother is their leader of course.

So you say that the mother with her trust issues (and social status and financial stability) should understand that Mhok loves her son. Okay, Mhok for her:

Young man, something around the age of her older son. Spent a year in prison. Has no relatives. Is an employee in her house. Didn't talk to him much.

Now tell this woman she needs to be happy her younger blind son is dating Mhok. And wants to be with him. Live together, have his own family. After all these tough years when there're only three of them and the reason for that was her being cheated by someone she loved. Tell her to trust in love. Tell her she needs to trust Mhok.

You can tell this woman to get therapy and then talk to her son(s) and you will be absolutely right. However people usually don't act right when dealing with their strongest emotions and I can't imagine this woman being less than heartbroken in the next episode.

Also need to say that being a single mother of two sounds like a choice between spending time with children and spending time making money for these children. And it's true. I also blamed my mother for not being in my life when dealing with different sh*t.

I was being bullied for a year and all my mother did was making me to change school after the year ended. She never been there when I was coming home with eyes full of tears. Oh, and before that year I even had an accidental (not car accident) eye trauma. Yeah, really, I'm not lying. My eye never recovered fully and I spent a week with a vision similar to Day's one. But it's okay now. I was around twelve back then.

So what about Night? Don't you think Day hates him too much? It's not a big deal to use Night to get to Songkhla and just not speak to him there at all, right? Why being so dramatic?

I remember a couple years ago my older brother was asked by my mother to help me with some renovations in the apartment I live in. That night we argued that hard that I left my only home in the whole big city and refused to come back until he left it. It was around 5AM. I spent that night in a park.

So if you think Day can't be mad at Night after that car accident without more valid reason, you need to ask yourself what Day felt for Night before the accident. And the simplified answer is love.

It's only the closest ones that can hurt you the most.

It would be really nice to know more about Day and Night's childhood, teen years. I'm sure mother always told them they need to be together and help each other and be kind to each other. The boys for sure was annoyed, but they care of each other so damn much. The goldfish "Little Day" is still alive after all.

After such a betrayal from a man mother can only trust her sons she raised herself. She taught them to trust her, to trust each other. That's why Night used to be the main caregiver for Day. He was the only person the mother could trust as much as she trusts herself.

Meanwhile Day learned that the only way to have some mother's time is to be the better son. Maybe his mother can't be with him regularly, but she wil definitely come to see him playing, right? Day and Night managed to compete for mother's time and attention without even realizing it.

I actually tend to tell everyone that my mother loves my brother more, even though I try to be less troublesome and more mature. I even complained to my friends about the need to take care of my older brother like he's the younger one.

I feel something like grief looking at Day's family. Their relationships and their personalities are like an aftershock of something happened years ago. And maybe it's not even a divorce.

Time actually heals. For Day and Mhok and Day's mother's relationship this time will start the moment she will be told about them. For Day and Night's relationship this time will start the moment Day get a stable zero vision and start learning to live in a new reality. I also hope we won't get eye donation from father/brother/mother/Mhok or I won't trust screenwriters ever again.

The family needs to see each other. And for that they actually don't need eyes.

If you're reading this you're my hero!

Thank you so much for reading this brainrot. I questioned myself whether all of this needs to be written, but decided to spit my thoughts out. Sometimes these writings help to analyse not only the characters, but myself. That's good.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Entirely self indulgent rating post about the top 10 TV shows that made me fucking insane for some reason

10. Sense8

God, this was so good. Such a blessing. I saw part of the cast during a Pride Parade and it's one of my favorite memories. I felt every possible emotion with this show, I love it.

9. The Last of Us

This is kind of a cheat, because the obsession comes from the games, but it is what it is. It's one of the few games that had a big impact on me and I closely relate it to my relationship with my dad. Can't wait to cry my heart out at season 2.

8. Good Omens

It's a given, isn't it? That stupid angel with his stupid demon and their stupid God. GRRRAAWW. A lot of thoughts and feelings came from the fandom, I have to point out. It's been very nice.

7. The Umbrella Academy

I have the first issue of the comics autographed by Gerard Way!! I mean, yes, it's because I'm a MCR fan, but it became even more precious after I got into the show. I'm rewatching right now, preparing for the last season. I'll be a mess when I say goodbye to them. Can't even really think about it too hard or I'll cry right now.

Continues under the cut

6. Our Flag Means Death

LISTEN THIS CHANGED EVERYTHING TO ME. What do you mean we can have a show THIS queer? It's all I want now. I ate it up. I smiled so much. I wanted this so badly and had no idea.

5. Interview with the Vampire

Feels like it should be top 3 honestly but I'll get there. This is also a cheat, I've been reading the Vampire Chronicles since I was like 15. Growing up with Anne Rice probably messed me up but hey at least I have great taste. And seeing them on screen? The way they made it BETTER? And Lestat?? Who has been haunting me for 15 years on and off??? And the second season and their reunion and and and?????????? I'm STILL insane about them and will be forever, I'm afraid.

4. Doctor Who

Listen. Listen. Okay. Yeah. What can I say? If you get into it, you're doomed. And I have been doomed for 10 years at least. I stopped watching for a while and got back last year, and it hit me all over again. I love this dumbass genius alien in a way that's calm, even. Just a permanent part of who I am now.

3. The Untamed

The year was 2022, it had been a while since I had a proper fixation and I didn't think it would happen with this danmei live-action, but then came Wei Wuxian. Guys, if I tell you I fell in love. Couldn't stop thinking about him. Everyday I was plagued by his smile and red ribbon and tragic backstory, yadayadayada. I really like other characters too, and their stories, but WWX did something to me that I still don't quite understand.

2. Queer as Folk (US)

This was a looong time ago and it didn't really persist over time like the others, but it was my first actual obsession. I was clinically insane over these gays. I had no one to talk to about them, so for every episode I wrote several pages of notes to comment to my (only) friend at school the next day, the poor thing. It was pretty much all I talked about because I spent EVERY MINUTE we had to talk going over the notes and explaining the episode. Like, between classes, during breaks, everything. Months of that. She held on firmly because she was a good friend, but I'm aware it must've been terrible. Like I said, insane.

1. Dead Boy Detectives

Maybe I'm putting this up here because it's my current hyperfixation? Maybe. But I don't think I have felt something hit as strongly as this since QaF over there. This time I can participate in fandom so I don't need to write every thought I have because it's all a big talk anyway, but I'm still pretty much having those thoughts all the time for *checks notes* nearly three months. I'm writing more than I have in years. I'm back at Tumblr after I don't know how long. I'm staring at GIFs over and over like I have the fucking time for that. I'm distracted at work daily. I talk about it in therapy. I have the main cast's notifications on. I'm getting involved in fandom discourse sometimes even knowing I shouldn't. It's a nightmare. I love it. I love them.

If you read all of this, congrats! Now you know how my mind works, kinda!! I'm open to talk about any and all of these shows. It's amazing how they mess us up. It's also scary, but anyway.

[tj-dragonblade]

Hi! I'd like to hear something about the fishbowl therapy fic, please!

Ah, this is probably my favorite year-old idea that I really want to write but haven't quite gotten around to. I like the concept, I like the visuals that I've got in head, but so much of the necessary conversations just fizzle when I try to flesh them out. I'm sure I can get it right if I focus on it long enough, though. The long rambly synopsis with a tiny snippet of drafting included:

Sometime after their 2022 reunion, with more frequent meetings etc, Dream finally tells Hob why he missed their 1989 meeting. And Hob is very much Not Okay about it. He has so many feelings - the horror of his friend having been held captive that long, rage on Dream's behalf, self-recrimination that he didn't know, he could have done something if he'd known, and a crushing guilt over every unkind thought he had after 1989 (never mind that he got over them, he still thought them in the first place and his friend was stuck in a glass cage while Hob was wallowing in self-pity and uncharitable assumptions).

But Hob stuffs all his feelings about this down inside, because what kind of friend would he be to make Dream's trauma-sharing all about his own reaction? So he tries very hard to keep his own feelings out of the conversation, aside from some commiserative vindication when Dream confirms that everyone who held him is either dead or dealt with.

But he is Extremely Upset about it all evening, and ends up dreaming about it. Dream catches awareness of his distress, visits the dream. He didn't give Hob specifics in their conversation, 'a glass cage' and 'basement' were the key details and Hob has dreamed up something akin to a zoo exhibit - the cage is rectangular, three glass walls attached to a fourth stone wall, roomy enough to pace about in, a proper semblance of a bed in one corner. Dream watches as Hob stands on the outside, talking to the dream-version of Dream inside the cell - a Dream who still has his clothes, he had not shared that detail with Hob either - and makes himself known after only a moment. Hob is apologetic, he's so sorry he's making this all about himself, but Dream is…pleased, by his distress. 'Pleased' is not quite the word, but it is comforting to know that someone is so upset on his behalf. He takes the place of his dream-self within the cell, urges Hob to continue, to tell him everything he's held back. It's easy to be detached from the memory when the setting is wrong, and he is warmed despite everything at how vehemently Hob insists he would have come, how sorry he is for thinking Dream had chosen to stay away, etc etc. Eventually they are talking about how Dream is coping with it, is he healing from his trauma, and of course he says it does not bother him, but Hob is like 'If I'd spent more than a hundred years cooped up in this -' gesturing at the spacious cage he's envisioned '- I'd be - I'd be something. I wouldn't just be okay about it.' And Dream, feeling peevish and daring, decides to push.

"It was not like this," he says. "You dream it too kind."

Hob blinks at him. "…What?"

"You dream it too kind," Dream repeats. "Shall I show you the truth of it?"

"I…okay," Hob agrees, foreboding and unease in his tone, and Dream shifts the basement around them. With less than a thought he is naked in the suspended glass orb again, the painted stars mocking him from above and the the binding circle a sickly glow beneath him, the dank reaches of the underbelly of Fawney Rig stretching into infinity in every direction. Hob stumbles back a step with a shocked cry, horror flooding his features; he nearly flails backwards into the moat and steps forward again, stumbles to his knees, staring up at Dream with tears flooding his eyes.

"What the fuck—god, Dream—!"

And while he's processing all over again the full depth of the horror that was done to his friend, Dream is feeling something akin to panic creeping over him now that he's here again. He is less okay than he thought he was, the memory is pressing in again, and he focuses on Hob's distress to mitigate his own. There's gotta be a moment of both of them pressing hands to the glass; they get to a point where Hob just sort of spirals into a frenzy of 'gotta get you out, gotta get you out' that feeds Dream's own latent panic that he's definitly not giving in to, never mind that he can't stop repeating 'Free me, Hob, free me' (?) over and over. Hob's scrabbling about for anything that might help him break the glass and shortly dreams up a crowbar; he scrambles to his feet and starts swinging. It's thick glass, and magical etc, and it takes Hob whaling on it quite a lot before it begins to crack, and plenty more hits before it shatters. Whereupon Dream drops to the floor, free, unbothered by the broken glass all around. Hob suddenly has a jacket so that he can take it off and wrap it around Dream, and somewhere in the surging relief of the re-enacted rescue Hob just flings his arms around Dream and kisses him. Dream is taken by surprise, but things are definitely falling into place for him and he kisses back. Hob jerks back, doing a full 'oh shit I kissed him my secret's out I've ruined everything' kind of take; Dream just grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him back down, kisses him again.

There is a little more conversation here in the dream as heat and realization build; then Dream, 'weary of this wretched basement' and wanting Hob to remember all of this, ends the dream and manifests in Hob's bed as Hob wakes. There is sex and conversation to finish it out, Dream finally voicing out loud how much it means that there is someone who would have come for him, who will come to his defense no matter how unnecessary, who thinks he's worth the effort of rescuing.

Like I said, I stumble over the conversations somewhat and that makes it easy to let this one languish in the depths of the wip file. All that Hob-pov exposition at the beginning isn't really part of it either, since this will be Dream's pov, but I've got to convey all that via Hob talking to dream-Dream and then actual-Dream in the dream itself. I'll get it all ironed out one day. Hopefully.

[rems-writing]

Humble and kindness

Pairing: rookie!San x maestro!reader

Summary: This will take place in an orchestral setting

Warning(s): people being dicks. That's pretty much it

Genre: Fluff with some angst

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

Since @sannie4luv is a huge San stan, I'm tagging her in this :3

As San straightened out his pristine suit jacket that was ironed to perfection, he looked himself in the mirror one last time and gave himself a small pep talk.

"You got this, San. You can do it. You've been practicing for months on end for this very moment. You can make it. Fighting!"

After releasing a short breath, he picked up his silver violin case, slung it over his shoulder, and began walking briskly from out of his apartment to the busy streets of Seoul.

---------------------------------------------------

He probably should've brought an umbrella. Good thing he packed an emergency one in his case.

After closing it back up and opening the umbrella, he made his way to the symphony hall again. He only had three more blocks to cover. As he continued to walk briskly yet carefully in the rain, he noticed something odd. A few feet away from him, a young woman was wearing a cloak and was standing under a newspaper stand to try and shield herself from the rain. She had been asking for various strangers to lend their umbrella, only to be met with half assed apologies or straight up rudeness whenever they said no.

His heart broke when most of them were young people with violin cases slung over their shoulders as well. Looks like they cared more about the competition than helping a stranger out.

Due to the fact that he couldn't stand the weary woman suffering for so long, he walked over to her and put on his kindest smile.

"Hello, ma'am. Need to go somewhere?"

The woman heard his voice and let out a soft cry of relief.

"Yes yes! I need to get to the symphony hall. I want to see my child audition! Unfortunately, my car broke down in the middle of horrendous downpour and I didn't bring an umbrella with me so I had no choice but to stand here."

"How long have you been in the rain?"

"Not too long but it feels likes ages! Please, young man. Can you help me?"

A short internal conflict went on inside his mind. His brain told him to just ditch the woman and hope she forgives him while his heart told him to help her out so she wouldn't miss her child's audition. Sighing quietly, he made up his mind.

"Ok. I can take you. I might be late, but I'd rather be late than have someone's kid audition knowing that their number one supporter isn't there for them."

The woman's eyes shone brightly and a grateful smile graced her face. She scuffled under his umbrella and was even more shocked when she felt his jack be draped over her shoulders.

"But what about you?! Your shirt will be soaked and you will get sick!"

"Your wellbeing comes first, ma'am. Besides, I have an emergency shirt in my case that I can change into later."

The woman chuckled and they both walked together to the symphony hall.

"So... I presume you will audition as well?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've always wanted to perform in front of my biggest inspiration for years!"

"Ahh! Let me guess. Is it that one young girl? Y/N?"

San nodded eagerly and the woman chuckled.

"I heard she got her rise to fame fairly quick. She used to be a street performer and now here she is, playing in the KQ Grand Hall in front of thousands of her most beloved fans."

"That is correct! It's always been my dream to make a name for myself, wherever that might be." San chuckled sadly before speaking.

"After tearing a muscle in my calf during a taekwondo competition, I thought my life was over. During physical therapy, my hands started to get antsy so the doctor found something for my hands to do. At first, when I played a single note, it sounded like a dying cat being strangled and it was screeching for help."

The woman giggled to that comparison.

"From there, I learned how to play on my own."

"No teacher to guide you?"

"Most of the teachers thought I was too cocky or arrogant whenever I passed a simple lesson. They quit right after teaching me a few lessons. It kind of saddened me, but that didn't stop me from learning. Now, here I am."

"Do you think you'll pass the audition?"

"I would hope so. If not, I'm just grateful enough to even perform in front of y/n."

"That's very humbling of you, young man. I pass on my good luck to you for your audition."

"Thank you, ma'am."

When they arrived at the doors of the symphony hall, San let the woman go in first. She thanked him and was about to give him his jacket back when he shook his head.

"Keep it. I want you to stay warm and healthy."

The woman smiled.

"Alrighty then. Thank you for walking me to this venue. You truly are a kind man."

San simply smiled before waving goodbye to her and turning to the table that had sign-in sheets. Once he signed in, the employee pointed to a practice room behind San, where other musicians were waiting for their audition. Some were even practicing. San thanked the employees and walked to the practice room before finding a seat and opening his case so he could take out his violin and practice.

---------------------------------------------------

The tension in the symphony hall was thick.

Some musicians only made it through halfway of their audition piece before they were sent out of the audition room. A few of them walked in and then walked out since the maestro and her two colleagues, who were also judges, didn't even want to hear to the piece in the first place. It caused an uproar and loud claims of being unfair, to which the maestro shut it down quickly.

One of the musicians even cried as she ran out of the audition room.

The maestro made someone cry!

San was the last one to audition and some of the musicians that auditioned before him wished him the best of luck while others tried to persuade pressure him into backing out and calling it quits since the maestro has high expectations and San will never be able to surpass them. However, San pushed all of that aside and walked into the audition room with a humble head held up high and a kind heart beating rapidly.

---------------------------------------------------

"Hello. Tell us your name, the piece you'll play, and why you want to be a part of the maestro's symphony."

The colleague named Seonghwa spoke mundanely as the colleague named Hongjoong read over San's portfolio. The maestro sat silently in between Matz with the back of her chair facing San. San gulped nervously and spoke.

"Hello. My name is Choi San. The piece I'll play is actually an original piece I composed. Or rather transcribed I should say."

He quickly passed out three copies of his audition. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and the maestro looked over the piece while San kept talking.

"The title of the piece is called Everything. It's actually written by my little brother. His name is Choi Jongho. He allowed me to transcribe his song and his dream is to have this performed in front of thousands of people during a symphony concert."

Seonghwa hummed quietly in approval while Hongjoong spoke up this time.

"It says on your portfolio that you were once a world-renowned taekwondo champion. During an international competition however, you pulled a calf muscle, which rendered you down. You've been in physical therapy and picked up the violin as a hobby."

"That is correct." San answered politely.

"So answer me this. Why would you, a former athletic champion, want to join something as spectacular as the symphony? You could've done some other sport yet you chose to dabble in the arts."

San sighed.

"I've been asked this question a million times and my answer will always be the same. I want to make a name for myself whether it be here or somewhere else. I also want to make my family proud. They've always been there for me. Growing up in Namhae, we don't get a lot of opportunities since it's such a small town. My parents worked hard to make sure Jongho and I have a bright future. They also taught us how to be humble and kind whenever we receive those opportunities. I may sound like I'm talking out of my ass, but it's the truth."

Hongjoong sat there in a stunned silence while Seonghwa leaned in so the maestro could whisper something in his ear. San caught a glimpse of a gold ring on her index finger and looked down at his own, smiling to himself slightly.

Both of them wore a simple gold band on their index finger.

Once Seonghwa nodded, he sat up straight.

"Do you have a backing track for this? Most of the other musicians did."

"I do not. However, I do have the piano chords written down."

Matz were pleasantly surprised by this and Seonghwa nodded to Hongjoong. The smaller man got up and San gave him the sheet music. Hongjoong took it and sat at the piano before cracking his knuckles.

"Ok. Whenever you're ready. I can sight read."

San started and got into playing position.

---------------------------------------------------

Once the audition was over, San stayed in that position with his bow lifted in the air until Hongjoong ceased playing. Seonghwa nodded and Hongjoong got up to take his place at the judge's table once more. San got into resting position and anticipated the words of the judges.

"Hongjoong and I already have our opinions, but the maestro herself would like to say her part."

"I'm ready for what she has to say. Whatever the verdict may be, I deserve it."

The chair spun around and San's breath got knocked out of his chest. Standing before him was y/n. She was wearing her iconic pinstripe pantsuit but in lieu of the pinstripe blazer

Was a very familiar looking suit jacket.

"Wait a minute... you're the woman that was under the newspaper stand?!"

A light giggle escaped her lips and San's heart rate increased rapidly. As her heels clicked over to where he was standing, she stared up at him with a soft smile.

"Yes I was. I knew people would do anything to make sure they made it to their audition on time, even if it meant disregarding anyone that was in need of help."

She reached out to him and fixed his tie, the gold ring brushing against the gray fabric.

"You risked being late to your audition to help out someone in need. And I admire you for that."

San chuckled softly while Matz awkwardly looked away.

"Do you even have a kid?"

"No. But that doesn't matter. What matters is that you were a good Samaritan. And you are exactly what I need for my symphony."

After fixing his tie, she took his violin and set it on top of the piano before grabbing his hands in hers.

"You passed your audition. Welcome to the symphony, Choi San. Let me repay your kindness by composing a full orchestral version of your brother's song. You can even conduct it. I'll play for you."

San couldn't help the bright smile on his face as he picked y/n up and spun her around. She didn't mind thought. The feeling of being in this kind man's strong arms felt nice. After he set her down, she spoke once more.

"Shall we get to work?"

[kookslastbutton]

Fine Print ༓ jjk, kth (m) || ch. I

✑ Summary: Your boss needs you to strike a deal with one of South Korea's biggest business tycoon, Kim Taehyung. What he didn't tell you though, was that Jeon Jungkook, his negligent heir, would be accompanying you the whole time. Isn't this just peachy?

Pairing: company heir!jungkook x fem!reader x ceo!taehyung (not poly)

AU/genre: angst, humor, fluff, smut, stuck together, office au, coworkers2lovers, lo-love triangle (do I dare? yes, yes I do), mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4.1k+

Now playing: Softcore, Do I Wanna Know?, Blank Space...

Warnings: Not too many this chapter but main ones are swearing, bickering, jk is kind of a kluts so he ain't exactly prince charming right now, reader is ticked obvs, accidental t*tty flash, oh and reader has a cat!

Taglist:

@coralmusicblaze @seokjins-luigi @oopscoop @chanjwl @taebangtanbabe @j3oooonsnsns

A/N: Here it is! Late again, I know, so thank you to anyone who's been waiting. I'm super excited about this mini-series! FYI I've decided not to make chapters too long so I'm more likely to update faster. Enjoy and lmk what you think. My asks are open 💞

One.

Two.

Three.

It's been three hours on the phone with your sister.

'Have you eaten anything yet? Oh dear, why not? Go eat right now!'

'You better not be pregnant __. I'm not ready to be an aunt yet!'

"There are more important things than work you know. I know it's hard to admit but, distance is good so you don't become dull and boring. Get away for a while. You can come up to my place for a few if you need.'

Although Y/S/N is only four years older, she's always had the compulsion to act like your mother. Constantly checking up on you, giving unsolicited advice, and spewing opinions were her specialty.

It's not that you mind hours of conversations over the phone and it's not entirely dreadful. But your energy is surely spent after. Guess that's family for you.

"Really, I'm fine," you answer back. "Don't worry about me so much. And yes I ate, no I'm not pregnant, and I can't afford a break from work right now but I'll see you as soon as I can."

Once the phone slips from your ear, you release a soft huff. Finally. You allow your mind to go blank before something long and sleek brushes against your calf. You can't help but break into a smile and crouch down on the floor to confront the source.

"Did you miss me baby?"

Meow.

"I missed you too." You pick up Kumo, your 3-year-old Siamese. Kumo lived at a local rescue league for a year before you adopted him. You weren't sure you'd be able to take care of a cat when a friend suggested it. But once you saw Kumo's shimmering blue eyes, you knew you weren't walking out empty-handed.

Meowmeowmeow

Kumo kneads your sleeve, ears relaxing as you stroke his back. Each gentle purr reminds you why you consider him your best form of therapy. "Good boy Kumo. I wish I could take you to work with me...silly company policy."

A few strokes later and Kumo starts wiggling in your arms. Claws prick your skin, telling you he's had enough lovey-dovey for now. You suppose it's nearly time for his late night snack.

Meooooow

"Alright I gotcha," you say, setting him near his food dish. Kumo gladly jumps out of your arms to attack the last remaining pebbles in his bowl. "Mom should get something to eat too shouldn't she?"

Truth be told you actually hadn't eaten all day. And though you never meant for it to happen, it's a regular occurrence. Your sister would go absolutely off if she found out which is why you sorta...don't tell her?

Feeling your body aching, you pop a few pieces of fruit in your mouth before deciding to hit the shower. Not the most substantial option but you're ready to crash and crash hard. You'll eat in the morning, for sure. You plug your cell in by the nightstand but before you turn to leave, a notification drops on the screen.

CEO Jeon: __, sorry to be reaching out this late. I need you to come by my office around 2:30 tomorrow if you can. There's something urgent I need to discuss with you. [sent at 9:03pm]

You re-read the message twice before typing out a reply. What could be this urgent? Are you being let go? Dammit, don't think like that. Surely he wouldn't.

__: Of course Saengnim. I'll be there at 2:30pm. Is everything alright? [sent at 9:07pm]

CEO Jeon: Thank you __. Everything's fine, only a slight change of plans. Have a good night. [sent at 9:08pm]

Still unsettled, you're tempted to press further. But being your boss, you let it go. The risk of grilling him for answers wasn't something you were willing to take.

Probably has to do with a new product launch or something, you think. The company's always pumping out new tech. Nothing's been as successful as those smart lights though. They were the true turning point for the company.

With a long exasperated sigh, you grab a towel from the bathroom closet and turn on the shower knob. Whatever it is, you'll find out tomorrow.

"Get your feet off my desk Jungkook."

He looks at you with his notorious bambi eyes, hands laced behind his neck. He's got a stripped dress shirt on, untucked, over a pair of light-washed jeans. Who let the kid in your office?

"I did." He says. "And you're not allowed to call me kid when I'm only three years younger than you."

So you said that kid thing out loud—classic.

"You can't be in here without permission Jungkook." You ignore his comment and hang your jacket on the hook behind the door.

Jungkook eyes you from the other other side of the desk. He takes in your perfectly fitted white blouse, sleek black slacks, and shiny heels. Always so put together, he thinks. A little too posh for his taste personally.

"You know my daddy owns this office." He clicks his tongue. "So technically, I kinda already got permission and all."

You hate when he uses that card. Like being the boss's son suddenly alleviates him from standard office protocol. You promise, the day this irritable little prick takes over the company will be the day you quit. Good thing that won't be for a long time though. Jungkook is far from ready to run a multibillion-dollar company.

You place a hand on your hip. "Is there something I can do for you? Because I have a very generous to-do list and babysitting you isn't on there."

Jungkook sweeps his feet off the mahogany surface. His posture straightens as he strolls his chair, or rather your chair, closer to the desk. "I'm glad you asked." He clutches his hands together, as if serious. "I need a partner."

You hold back a snort. This better not be what it sounds like. "Nice try but I'm not going out with you Jungkook."

"Oh gosh no, that's not what I meant." He shakes his head. "Pretty sure we'd both get in trouble then, given our relationship. Plus…you're not really my type."

"Okay, so there's something we can agree on." Jungkook openly admitting he isn't attracted to you is the least of your concerns. You aren't necessarily fond of him either. "What do you need me to do then? Set you up with someone? Get to the point please."

"I'm not talking about that type of partner __. I mean a work partner."

You feel the hand on your hip slowly glide down your figure. Work partner? Jungkook notices the blood immediately rush from your face. "I'm listening," you mumble.

"Yeah so uh, my dad wants me to get more exposure to the company because I'll be running it one day or whatever. Apparently, there's some business trip coming up that's a really big deal and I'm supposed to go. I was told you have the reigns on it. So I'm gonna need to be like your partner or something. I guess it's already decided actually, sorry.”

The words hardly register in your brain. He couldn't be talking about the business trip. The one that's been rattling in your brain, keeping you up day and night. Your boss assigned it to you months in advance, saying you'd be able to network with the company's potential client best.

You were confident in taking on such a task until you learned it wasn't just any client. It was Kim Taehyung, CEO of the biggest and most luxurious hotel chain in South Korea; White Lotus. Hearing his name alone made your toes curl. Nevertheless, you've been doing all you can to prepare for the official meeting. Having Jungkook there to breathe unnecessary stress down your neck wasn't part of the plan. And oh my god...it's in two days!

"Uh, well um, okay" is all you can reply amongst your jumbled-up thoughts.

Jungkook, completely opposite expression, breaks out into a big wide grin. "Okay, it's settled then! Who we meeting? Kim Taeyang or something?"

"Really Jungkook? Kim Taeyang?" You circle your temple knowing full well what your future was about to behold. This must be what your boss wanted to meet about. The fact that he said this was merely a "slight change of plans" is alarmingly irksome. Oh, you're definitely getting that drink after work. "It's Taehyung," you correct. "Wait...what time is it?"

Jungkook checks his phone. "Uhm..about 2:20."

Dammit. Pressed for time, you stride around your desk and pick up a folder from a stack of documents. "Sorry to cut this short but you're going to have to leave now. I have a meeting in ten minutes and you can't be here."

With furrowed brows, Jungkook lets out a small grunt. It doesn't seem to be from a place of anger but rather, disappointment. "What about the business trip with Taehyang? You still have to get me up to speed and stuff!"

"For the last time, it's Kim Taehyung. Taehyung." You stress every syllable of his name before rubbing your forehead. "You might wanna get his name right before you shake his hand in two days!"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? I'm here all day! I kinda need you."

Anxiously, you flip the folder open and scan through each page. "I don't know, do some research about Kim and his hotel chain. If you're coming on the trip you need to know a thing or two."

"But—"

"Off you go," you say, smacking him with the folder in hand. "Beat it."

"That's no way to treat your work partner or better yet, future ceo __."

"Out Jungkook. I'll talk you to later."

Your boss rounds the corner of his desk, a glass of scotch in hand. He invites you to take a seat before getting down to the heart of it. "Now that Jungkook's 25 he needs to start preparing for his future," he says. "I'm well aware that he's not yet ready to take over as CEO, which is why I've decided that he go with you on this very critical business trip. You've been a loyal part of my team these past five years and I trust you to help guide Jungkook into the next stage of his life."

"Sir, I am pleased that you'd think of me in this way, however, the meeting is in two days. Kim Taehyung is someone who we both know expects perfection. I'm well prepared to have this discussion with him regarding our transaction but I'm concerned that Jungkook won't have enough time to."

"I understand your concern. But not to worry, Ms. __. Jungkook is merely there to observe so you shouldn't need to worry about him saying something he shan't. You'll still be taking the lead on everything."

"Sir I–"

"__. I know its very last minute. And my son has his challenges but I'm afraid this isn't a choice for you. But I tell you what. If you do this for me and you manage to seal the deal with Kim, I guarantee you'll be very well compensated."

The replay of your earlier meeting with your boss brews in the back of your mind. You nearly forget where you are until your friend pipes up from across the table.

“You’re kidding," the younger woman says, nearly spitting out her drink.

“I wish I was.” The dryness in your tone is unmistakable. "My boss said he insists that his son, who by the way has barely stepped foot in the company, be involved in one of the biggest business transactions in years. How am I supposed to sell smart tech to Kim Taehyung with that kid fiddling with god knows what beside me?"

The woman, Eun-ji, flashes you her famous side-eye. “Oh stop complaining __, it'll cause wrinkles. Besides that kid is basically the same age as you. But more importantly, he's hot.” She gives you a light shove. “Don’t pretend you don't know it.”

You shake your head and take a sip of your cocktail. Eun-ji may be one of your closest friends but damn was that girl relentless. Constantly giggling over you and Jungkook going away for a few days is just another one of her matchmaking attempts. Yesterday it was the overly friendly man at the bakery, today it’s your boss’s nuisance of a son.

A blaring light suddenly gets shoved in front of you mid-thought, causing your face to jolt back. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the blinding brightness of the phone screen. “What the hell Eun-ji? Get Jungkook out of my face.”

Eun-ji swipes left, revealing another ridiculous photo of Jungkook posing as the next prodigy of business. “The one to watch” or some shit. “Look at that face __, and those muscles. You can’t hate him forever.”

You scrunch your face. “I never said I hated him Eun-ji. I’m a grown woman for god sak–okay that's enough!” You push the phone abruptly back. “I don’t want to see my boss’s son in Calvin Klien's underwear, please.”

Eun-ji chuckles and sets her phone down. “Sorry, accident.” She casually folds her arms on the wood surface and leans forward. “But seriously, three days alone with Jungkook in the most glamorous hotel in Seoul and you don’t think anything of it?”

“I’m not having sex with Jungkook if that's what you're getting at. And yes, we’ll be in a fancy-ass hotel with joint rooms,” you say emphasizing the joint part. “But it’s not a leisure trip. I’m going there to form some sort of partnership or deal with Kim and Jungkook happens to be carry-on luggage. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” Slowly, Eun-ji falls back in her chair. Her eyes flicker to a far corner of the restaurant before the same sly expression returns. “So how do you feel about meeting Kim Taehyung, the beast of business and hospitality himself?”

“Still a little shaken up but I've had several variations of these meetings before. Kim Taehyung is just a man and I can handle him.”

“Come on __, extend me a branch," Eun-ji say with a slight whine. "Maybe Jungkook gets by but not Kim Taheyung. We both know you've been head over heels for him in Lalaland ever since he made front and center with the press."

Tugging your bottom lip you desperately try suppressing a grin. "That's such an exaggeration. I'm not–"

"I've known you for ten years __. You're always, and I mean always weak for an intelligent, sexy, business-savvy brain. Kim far surpasses the bill."

"Alright fine, fine fine fine," you chant, giving up. "You're right. I'm still nervous as hell about meeting Taehyung and hope to death I don't fumble. Happy?"

Pleased, Eun-ji lets out a wide grin that tells you she's now concocting a soap opera with you and Taehyung as the main leads. "That's all I wanted to hear," she coos.

"Promise me you'll take good care of Komu? We leave Friday morning."

"Of course, I will," she says, leaning forward to gently grip your shoulder. "Kumo and I are going to have three full days of watching reruns of Love Island. Kai Fagan and Sanam Harrinanan are his favorites."

Friday - 8:04 a.m.

"If you don't get here in the next fifteen minutes I'm leaving with or without you Jungkook." You stroll your suitcase into the boarding line outside your gate. You and Jungkook's flight to Seoul was scheduled to take off in twenty minutes but your partner, get this, woke up late and is now running ridiculously behind.

"Yeah, try explaining why you ditched me at the airport to my dad __." Was it just you or was Jungkook's voice even more annoying over the phone than in person? God you could strangle him right now. You suggested carpooling over well ahead of time to make it easy but no, his highness didn't want to.

"Listen __,"Jungkook continues. "I'm at security right now and I'm rushing as fast as I can. The line isn't too bad now so I'll be there in ten. I'm sure."

"Okay, but don't muck around too much. And make sure to take off your belt before you go through security."

"Yes mom."

"Don't ever call me that," you grit.

On the other end, Jungkook chuckles, relishing in your distaste. "What if I put a couple letters on the end though? You seem the type to be into momm—"

"Just get here!" You hang up instantly. What the hell was he on?

Twelve minutes pass and you're again checking your phone feverishly. Jungkook was supposed to be here by now but there hasn't been any sight of him. You're about to ring him up for the third time today when you feel a body brush against your arm.

"Sorry!" Jungkook leans on the handle of his suitcase, taking deep breaths. "There was...someone had a pocket knife in front of me and it held us up."

"Well if you had–" You pause realizing you really are starting to sound like a mom. So much so that you're making your own skin crawl. You recall Eun-ji's wise words a couple days ago. 'Stop complaining __, it'll cause wrinkles.'

'"It's alright," you mutter. "At least you're here."

"Really? That's it? Thought you were gonna scold me again. 'Jungkook you friggin' embarrassment, I told you to leave early so we'd be here on time. You're lucky I don't send you back to your dad and doom your future right now'."

Oh fuck no. He did not just try imitating you and in such a horrid voice too.

"That's not how I sound and you know it."

Jungkook snorts at your sour face. He isn't trying to be a thorn in the side but he's also not about to let you keep your stiff exterior. Being a CEO's son showed him the true price of being an uptight businessman and it isn't in his interest to let another person, especially his age, live life not knowing how to relax and what was that phrase...smell the roses?

"C'mon sunshine, I'm just kidding around," he says. "Also, glass half full, I did make it here before the plane took off. First day on the job and I'm already killing it."

"How about I make you my assistant instead of a partner," you bite. "And you only talk when spoken to?"

"You wouldn't."

Line finally starting to move you tighten the grip on your luggage and move with the crowd. You tilt your head to the side and flash Jungkook a tight lipped smile that said, 'try it bitch'.

"You're cruel you know that?" Jungkook grabs his own luggage and follows your lead.

Stunning. Immaculate. Expensive.

The list goes on as you and Jungkook walk through the golden doors of White Lotus. Everywhere you look, masterpieces from the great masters hang from the walls and cover the ceiling. You notice the same gold on the door is used as trim for the ceiling as decorative accents mount its corners. Dangling above is a giant glass chandelier, while below you are beige marble floors.

Taehyung certainly doesn't skimp, does he...

"Welcome to White Lotus," the receptionist says. "Do you have a reservation?"

Blinking yourself out of your daze, you walk up to the receptionist's desk. "Yes, we're here under the name Jeon." You usher Jungkook over who takes his ID out of his wallet. The receptionist scans both yours and his before sliding them back.

"Saengnim has been expecting you Ms. __," the woman says. "He's absolutely delighted you're here. Your rooms will be on the 29th floor, breakfast is 7am-10am, and wifi is inside." You're handed two key cards with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Hana," you say, reading the woman's name tag. "We're privileged to be in such a beautiful place."

"Isn't it?" Hana sweeps her eyes around the room with wonder. "Saengnim chooses each and every part of this hotel with immense detail. He wants every guest to be met with the best service and completely dazzled."

"It would seem so," you reply, following her trail. "This is by far, the most extravagant hotel I've ever stayed in. It's clear how it has earned an unbelievably positive reputation. Its creator loves it, cherishes it as his own."

Meeting your eyes again, Hana retains her warm smile. "I'm glad you see it too. It's true Saengnim has poured his heart and soul into White Lotus. Guests from all over the world have come just to see what Saengnim designed. And sometimes, they even get to meet him." Hana suddenly pauses, a hint of shyness creeping up on her cheeks. "Forgive me, I don't mean to keep you. I should let you both rest."

"No, please don't apologize," you urge. "It's great to see such admiration." Evidently, Kim Taheyung isn't the only one who has been dedicated to White Lotus. You and Jungkook bid Hana good night for the evening then follow the bellhop to the elevator.

"So tomorrow, remember, let me handle Kim."

"Okay yeah, I gotcha." Jungkook grazes the blackout curtains with the tips of his fingers. He peaks out the window next, taking in the breathtaking view of Seoul at night.

"Are you even listening to me?"

The man turns around, flinging his arms in the air. "Honestly, not really. Look at this room __. It's fucking huge!"

"I know, it's so ethereal. But I need you to concentrate for a second. Our meeting starts tomorrow and I need us to be on the same page. Technically, we'll be touring the hotel with Kim and whatnot so nothing's getting signed, but still. We can't be underprepared."

"I will talk as little as possible. I give you my word."

"Good." You give a slight nod and hoist your suitcase on the bed. "By the way, did you find out anything about Kim's background?"

"Uh shit–knew I forgot something. I'm going to read up about him right now!" In a mad hurry, Jungkook heads for his room.

"Wait, before you go–"

Dammit. You'll just text him.

__: Don't forget we meet Kim at 9 a.m. [sent at 9:56pm]

Jungkook: I'll be up at 6 a.m. Gotta scope out Kim's gym while I'm here. Bet it's loaded with the best equipment. You should join me! [sent at 9:58pm]

__: Mm, thanks but no thanks. [sent at 10:00pm]

Jungkook: Suit yourself. See ya in the morning!! [sent at 10:03pm]

Alright __, you've showered, gone over your notes, hell you even practiced a few lines in front of the bathroom mirror. It's time to sleep. Lazily, you flop yourself on the bed, starfish and all. You feel your eyelids closing, pulling you into dreamland until a cool breeze tickles your bare thighs.

"Ugh", you groan.

You forgot you were still in your robe. Would it be horrible to just sleep naked tonight? Sitting upright you fiddle with the knot of the silk material. Not a bad idea, __. You start loosening the knot before shaking the robe off your shoulders. You let out a–

"__!" Without warning the joint door between you and Jungkook thrusts open. Your partner bursts through your room, eyes shifting into a bugged-out expression when he sees your nearly bare state.

"Oh my god, Jungkook! You can't just come in like that, fuck!" Panicked, you wrap the material back around your chest, clinging it tight against your breasts. "Go back, go back until I say come in!"

Stunned look on his face, Jungkook retreats to his room. He ends up bumping into the doorframe clumsily before slamming the door shut. "I'm so sorry __! Shit, I didn't mean to walk in on you or anything. It's...I came in because something happened. Fuck, I swear I didn't see anything. It was like a blur."

Shutupshutupshutup

You quickly retie the straps of your robe, mentally calming yourself. "Jungkook if you have any respect for me, please forget this. And for the love of might, don't tell anyone!"

"No, of course not! I-I've forgotten already." On the other side of the door, Jungkook curses himself. 'Are you a fucking idiot or something? Just walking into her room like that this late at night.' He paces in a small circle, fists clenched. "Okay, breathe. It's just tits. Tits Jungkook, you've seen–fuck!'

Why? Why did he have to be here?! From Jungkook almost missing this morning's flight to being overwhelmingly underprepared for tomorrow's meeting and now walking in on you, tits out and all, Jungkook is easily the worst partner you've had! No wonder you prefer working alone.

"Uhm, something..." You clear your throat. "Something happened you said?" You brace yourself for whatever chaos Jungkook's brought this time.

Jungkook is slow to form a reply but in a near whisper, he says, "I think I just met Taehyung. Actually, I know I met him. Yeah 'cause, I shook his hand...right before I spilled ice over his perfectly shined loafers. Gucci. Please don't send me back to my dad!"

A/N: Thanks for stopping by! As always, lmk your thoughts. See ya! 💞

Masterlist

© kookslastbutton

[blimbo-buddy]

Where I've Been (Or more: What I've been going through)

Warning for: Mention of grooming, toxic friendships, severe mental health issues

Hello everybody, I'm making this post in response to being notified that my recent postings of art regarding trauma, ptsd, and self harm have been concerning to some. I want to apologize for worrying people (and most likely my friends as well) through these posts.

While I greatly dislike sharing personal feelings and experiences, the last time I had done this, I felt a weight lift off of my chest. To make a long story short: I'm currently suffering from a depressive episode that's left me with thoughts of harm to myself and others due to my mind revisiting a traumatic event over and over these past few weeks.

I've also begun to detached myself from Discord more and more for a bit; This itself is also linked back to the previously mentioned traumatic event. To make another long story semi-short:

I was in a friendship with someone that was filled with stress on my end, however at the time I was too chickenshit to express how I felt. The moment that caused me to break off the friendship was awful and the entire friendship itself fucked up my ability to make and keep friends; I was only 16 (I believe I had just turned 16). While I believe I wasn't groomed, there was always a fear in the back of my mind that I would have been had I continued to be friends with them. Nowadays I hold a fear that I'll become just like them and possibly worse than them towards my friends. Especially younger friends Edit: The experience itself has also led me to so desperately wanting to cut any and all connections with my friends because of these fears

The experience left me with nearly three years of bottled up emotions, guilt, trauma, and later some heavily suspected ptsd (though I have yet to be evaluated for it) that has been brought up due to reoccurring nightmares that recount the experience. It's left me restless but at the same time due to the depressive episode I've felt the need to constantly sleep.

This has already been brought up in my personal life and currently I am looking into heavy therapy and hopefully an evaluation. I'm sorry to everyone who I've made worried sick over my recent behavior (or lack thereof). Right now I've been trying to be more active in person but that itself also has proven to be difficult.

I'll possibly be continuing my internet hiatus for the time being but I want to let you all know this:

As I've said: I'm currently looking into therapy

I don't know how long this hiatus will last

I am safe

I cannot/will not name drop the ex-friend, for my safety (And I also don't know if they still go by the same user anymore)

If you suspect you're in a toxic friendship/relationship and/or you suspect you're being groomed, trust your gut and come forward to a trusted friend/family member/adult

Adult friends need to be responsible around their minor friends

Help is available

Your trauma isn't your fault

Please stay safe out there, thank you.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 25

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 3.5k

IMPORTANT a/n: I am really sorry, you can start the Mari witch hunt now. Chapter 26 is in the editing stage... message me questions. I've had this exact chapter drafted for about a year. I want to hear your thoughts while we enter the third part of this story.

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

“You do understand that this is a traumatic event?”

Javier ashes his cigarette with a head shake. His bones are aching and tired and he feels old. Like he’s ready to retire at the peak of twenty six. It’s always warm, it’s humid like the day of his false wedding. No one knows his pain but he’s willing to share it. We need therapy, you told him once.

Look at me, I’m trying. 

He doesn’t take the words of his work appointed therapist very seriously but it’s taken him twelve sessions to finally talk about it. The first words other than good afternoon out of Dr. Hertz mouth already frustrates him. It frustrates him more how attracted he is to her. He swears her exact hair color is yours when he left. She sits with a pencil skirt like all the women around the office do. Besides his boss, she’s always in a pantsuit. Skin tan from the Colombian sun, nails always done in a square tip—scribbling in a notebook. That wasn’t like you, the nails. It was rare if you ever had them done, he’d like running his thumb over your nail beds, an odd spot that tickled you. He missed you so badly. 

“The situation hurt her the most.” 

Dr. Hertz fixed herself a frown and a nod, pen to paper a dry sound that ticked him off. “Take it from the top for me please.” 

The night of June 16th 1986

Javier decides to grab his thick work file before  he drives to the hotel he wanted to share with you. Sitting in a chair that has housed many sad men like him, he frowns over the case details of pregnant drug smugglers' corpses and child detainments for gun possession. Ashing into a tray that isn’t his. 

His head hurts and so does his hand, it’s nerves are short circuiting while he holds himself from calling you. He doesn’t want to think about tonight at all. He doesn’t want to continue to be haunted by Lorraine and the swell at her stomach. Avoiding the thought—that it could be—he abandons it. Instead he buries his nose in cigarette smoke and work for the night, he much rather be buried in the crook of your neck. Inside you, beside you, looking at you, holding you, speaking to you– he just wants you here. He hates to waste time and he isn’t sure why he feels a sick instinct that you maybe have less time then he believes. 

He decides to call after his 3rd cigarette. It’s a long shot considering it’s 3 am but he has never been good with self control. He pictures your face as you sleep, he’s watched it despite your pleas to fall asleep alongside you, he likes to watch before he does. You always sleep on your stomach, hands on either side of you like you were tossed in bed, one on his chest and a cheek smushed. You drool, he won’t tell you that but you do. He’s frowning while he dials, you hadn’t told him you loved him back tonight, he wonders what he did wrong. Or if it really just Lorraine. 

“Hello?” Your voice is dry and very much awake. 

“Andrea.” Is all he can itch out his throat, he isn’t even sure why he called you. Maybe just to hear your voice, that's reason enough right? 

“It’s late, baby.”

He thinks maybe he could just hang up now, whatever urge he felt all night had been fulfilled with three simple words in your sweet voice. He closes his eyes fighting an urge to drive back forty minutes to your house. 

“Yeah-yeah I know. Just want to hear you before I sleep.” 

“Well, you're hearing me. I love you.”

He nods, he knows. It’s his religion, those words leaving you.  “Will I be able to see you tomorrow?” 

You hold silence for a beat, an exhale beyond the receiver. “Yes, I want to sleep in your bed this time.”

“Okay.” He says pathetically quick, nodding like you could see just how serious he is about spending time with you. You giggle, and he wonders what changed in the last few hours since he left you in the aftermath of your brother's wedding. Maybe you just missed him too. 

“Okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”

He can't help himself, he just can't. 

He says it like a whisper, like it's a secret. 

“¿Sabes que te amo, verdad?”

“I know, I just–" You take a second, like you know what you're going to say will hurt him. He can't tell if you're bracing yourself or giving him time do so as well.

"Sometimes I just miss you when you're around and it's tiring to feel like I’m still fighting to keep you."

Colombia 1988

“I couldn't understand that. When we were together each moment felt like she was slipping away from me. I just didn’t know she could feel the same way. I was a present partner.” He sighs, an itch in his molars. A weird tick he gets when he wants to see your face. “I tried to be.”

Dr. Hertz pressed her lips in a firm smile, “It may seem difficult to assess a situation you are so tied to, do you suppose maybe Andrea felt this way because your relationship was on borrowed time?”

“It wasn’t on borrowed time.”

“Maybe borrowed time isn't the correct phrase, but you began the relationship fully aware that you would leave. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you agree that-that idea could’ve struck a nerve in the insecurities you said she had in relationships.”

“Is this a therapy session for her or for me?” Javier snaps and he isn’t sure why he takes it there, isn’t sure why he says her name so bitterly like you did anything wrong. Dr. Hertz nods, and scribbles with a crease between her brow. 

“I have never met Andrea, you are my patient. I want to help you recognize a place we could work together to improve.” 

“Alright.” He rolls his jaw for a moment feeling like a scolded child. His eyes flick to the clock. Another half hour left, he wants to head back into his apartment where it’s safe. 

“Alright, was it the next morning that you met with Lorraine?” 

Javier’s nostrils flare, thinking of her makes him feel physically ill. She says her name and sees your face when he tells you. 

“I didn’t meet up with her, I was ambushed.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, the weight of the word feeling useless in this setting. He knows what the word truly means, ambushed, he stood in front of Carillo’s closed casket days after the ambush. “I was caught off guard.” Javier decides to correct himself.

The next morning, June 17th 1986

There is another car in his driveway. A car unfamiliar to him. The sun blares down and he’s already sun tired and he just woke two hours ago. He decides to light a cigarette before stepping up to his front door, still his father holds a no smoking policy in the house. 

He shuts his eyes, eyelids burning orange and he drags in his first breath since last night. He wonders if you’d be free for a drive to the lake. You played into his biggest fantasy a few days ago in your tiny bikini, nose nuzzled in your mound. He’d like to do it again. 

He could hear the main road 3 minutes down the hill, that and the crackling from his burning cigarette. He flicks his wrist to check the time, strange for his father to have guests at any time of day. Javier shrugged it off with a step on the cigarette butt. He’s been burning through them lately, smoking one for only two minutes. He supposes his habit is now an addiction, he’s good at it at least. 

Javier walks up the small steps to his front door to be greeted by his father with a frown. His eyes scan over his father’s body, blocking any view of the inside of the house. His body on autopilot, he hands the car keys to his father like he does every time he comes home. But the air was still and this wasn’t like every time he came home. Javier’s heart dropped to his stomach, a fear that something happened to you. “¿Qué pasó? ¿Quién está aquí?"

“Lorraine and her parents are here.” 

Javier shuts his eyes and takes a step back into the porch. Allowing his father to follow him, shutting the screen door behind them. Javier pinches his nose. 

“I’m not interested in talking to them. Fuck this.” Javier pats his pockets for the keys he had just given away without thinking.

“You can’t leave this time.”

Javier walks into his home. Feeling like he’s attending a principals conference. His pastor–the father of his ex-girlfriend, her mother and her sat on the couch with solemn faces. Javier nods at both parents, adjusting his collar bundled with nerves. Despite feeling betrayed by his own father, he still will never disrespect guests in the home he built. Javier offers his hand to Mr. Smithfield to which he takes because ultimately he is a christian. He presses a kiss to the cheeks of Mrs. Smithfield and Lorraine. It reminds him of the first time he had dinner at their home. He knew the family his whole life because of church but being introduced as their darling girl's boyfriend was one of the most anxiety inducing moments of his adolescence. He remembers them with the same stone cold faces, ready to devour him whole if he had stepped out of line. 

He knew them as powerful people, he knew if he had wronged their daughter he would no longer have any work in town. 

So, Javier was quite the wreck.

“Sorry If i kept you all waiting— I was caught off guard.” Javi sits across from them, all scary looking with intense sad stares. 

Mr. Smithfield nods, “We knew you wouldn’t have shown if you were given a warning.” 

His initial reaction is to rebut, to jump to his feet and tell them they hadn’t had a clue of who he was. It feels like a body shot. Javier hadn’t grown into a full man yet. The comment still triggered the nerve that sends him off on anger infused raves. He thinks of you, and the face you’d make if he did. He realizes that this moment is one he shouldn’t run from, maybe this will be the moment to prove himself to be a better man. For you. It’s wrong but it’s what he thinks. 

If he stays here and listens to whatever berating this family has for him, maybe, just maybe, you’ll be proud of him for hearing them out. 

So Javier clenches his jaw and allows Mr. Smithfield to speak. “We as parents are concerned for our daughter. Javier— you know we trusted you with her and we see clearly that you took care of her. But—you bolted in her most vulnerable moment.”

Javier furrows his brows, looking into the eyes of Lorraine.

 She seems to have been in another room, on another planet. Her icy eyes, the ones he once gazed into with adoration— served him nothing but coldness. He wanted to snap in her face and ask if she was there. Was this a bad dream? He looks to his father once more. Chucho stands at the arm of the couch with his arms crossed. Javier never felt this weak. 

Look at me

At least look at me Lorraine.

He assumes this silence as an olive branch for his explanation. 

He’s unsure of what he needs to explain but he does anyway. 

“Mr… and Mrs.” Javier looks at the both of them, god what scary looking people. “I care for Lorraine, for a long time I loved her but we were too young and too serious. We fell out of love just as fast and— and we stayed together out of convenience for our careers but there were weeks where we didn’t speak to each other. We didn’t have the time or the will to work on it.” 

It was the truth. Last year they reached a point where she’d come in without a word, dropping groceries on the counter, ripping off her scrubs, getting into bed and locking the door. A sign that tonight, Javier must sleep on the couch. He stared at the bubbled ceiling, with his bones aching from his oversized limbs making space in the futon. He stared until his eyes burned and wondered what he was doing with his life just at the ripe age of twenty three. 

Mrs. Smithfield looks like she’s seen red, like, how dare you not love my daughter? Javier is sure if she’d said those words out loud he’d laugh and send them all to hell. But she doesn’t. 

She does not. 

Her chin quivers and her nose twitches. Teeth barred like she’s about to let out a profanity but instead, she begins to cry. 

“But you have time to get my daughter pregnant.”

Colombia 1988

Javier laughs bitterly. As if the sentence didn’t ruin his life. Here he is whining about it to his beautiful therapist. She frowns, shaking her head. Javier wants the session to end already. 

“It was like I died in that living room. The dreams I was just creating stayed there. I was in so much shock I hadn’t even second guessed the accusation.”

She nods with that understanding face of hers, it reminds him a bit of yours.

“It may be important to understand the rest of your story, it may be important to know exactly what you felt after she revealed the news.”

Javier is bothered by the way the doctor says news as if any of it had been truthful. 

Javier lights another, Dr. Hertz scribbles a short one. Javier flicks his eyes up to hers as his cigarette burns. 

“You keepin’ tally?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm.

She doesn’t smile, “Yes. I am. Please continue.”

Javier stares at her for a moment and it reminds him so much of you it makes him sick. He can’t help but obey. 

“Truthfully, I first felt like I regressed. I had been cruising through my life until that moment, losing track of time. I thought… how? I’m just a kid? I felt like I was ten and my dad was sitting me on that same couch to tell me my mom ran off. I was in that same head space. Both times I felt like I was being punished for my actions, both times I felt like an open wound, ”

“You felt like both situations had been karma?”

“Yes. I felt like a human wedge between my father and my mother. My existence had been a bad mark and when she left it was a final message of “look what you’ve done.” Javier’s throat is scratchy and he wishes these things were said to you first but he supposes a professional listener will do. “And I grew up to be so selfish and reckless, reckless with my relationships and with sex. And so abruptly I decided to leave that all behind for Andrea, I started to be safe, caring, a better man. But there I was facing the consequences of my own actions. Look what I have done.”

Look at the mess I made.

Will you still love me? After I have made a mess of all we found sacred? 

She nods with a look in her eyes that feels bright, like she was so proud of him for such an articulate and honest answer. He wasn’t sure why today he was being so honest. 

“Anyway. I was stumbling over my words asking how she knew— which felt like a shitty question to ask in front of her parents but considering the outcome I guess I was onto something.” Javier pulls his cigarette from his lips with a pulled brow, he’s burning through these far too quickly, he’ll be broke in no time. “She told me she was 5 months which tied me back to being her only sexual partner the entire year of 1985 and some of 1986 you know until I moved away. I just went cold while her family ranted.”

He hears them in his head when he looks at Dr. Hertz. He spares her the details, their time is inching towards the finish line. 

“We talked with your father and we know you’re a good young man. We know our daughter was tempted.”

“I don’t see you as a man to abandon his child.”

“Our daughter will not have this child out of wedlock.”

“We are willing to make arrangements swiftly to stifle the talk in our church.”

He sat with his head in his hands.  Ears ringing and he felt so fucking guilty for having such a reaction to his own consequences. For being so broken when he wasn’t the person carrying the child, for the woman across from him. 

And he knows her family well, he knows that their faith and christianity only stretches so far. He knows about Lorraine’s eldest brother who came out as gay and is no longer seen in Laredo. He knows Lorraine despite their fall out, he knows the stress of image that was placed on her at just six years old. He knows, he held her head as she cried while she spoke about their conditional love. It scares him deep in his soul, he knows and it breaks him. That he’d not only ruin her life but his future child’s life if he doesn’t man up.  He knows that the delicate bones in her body move aside for life, a life he had part in creating. He could not–he cannot add to the stress. He sees it in her gaze.

“I know now I was seeing guilt in her eyes. She knew the child wasn’t mine, she took advantage of me. But at the time I saw a girl I had loved, I saw her alone in a room full of people.” Javier leans against the chair. “I was a fucking idiot.”

“You were trying your best.” Dr. Hertz corrects him, “You were deceived, you were young. When you speak of Lorraine you still have room for grace and understanding of her circumstance despite her manipulating you and still, still you give her that grace to be a flawed human . You should apply that to yourself too. “

Javier looks down at his shoes for a moment. His brows pulled tightly together. His chin quivers and he isn’t sure why he feels her words with such intensity. Two weeks ago Javier told Dr. Hertz that the first time he considered therapy was when his ex-girlfriend burst into tears after sex. It was that session she finally pushed to know who Andrea was, Javier spent the bulk of the session smiling. Hertz had been smiling too, last week Javier had been frowning again. He told her about Louisiana. He had beaten himself up repeatedly for the insecurity he placed in your heart, Dr. Hertz hadn’t agreed. She quite unprofessionally called him, an idiot, for being so unkind to himself. “It seems like you were a great person for her, not everyone gets the chance to truly understand their lover.” Javier disagreed, he explained the wedding and how he hadn't felt so detached from you until that moment in the yard.

“That was the last time we were really together as a couple. “

We never really got the chance to be a couple, huh.

Hertz nods, and Javier drops the pregnancy scandal on her like a small footnote in his story. 

ThenwesplitbecausemyexmanipulatedmeintobelievingIwasthefatherofherunbornchild. 

In one fast jumbled mess between cigarette pulls. Dr. Hertz had thrown her hands in the air, earning him a Javier…

Today he tells his story and it hurts bone deep. Today he couldn't escape the trauma he kept in the corner of his mind during the lonely years in Colombia. Javier pulls himself together, pushing his agony aside to lift his chin. Checking the clock. Five minutes. 

“I knew I would have to-I knew I hadn't had a choice. I knew some sort of modern couple co-parenting with step-parents would never fly. They’d send Lorraine and my baby off somewhere I would never find them. I mean, maybe it's different here in Colombia but I’m talking about bible belt American socialites, it was already a travesty to them that a hispanic man got their baby pregnant. I also knew my father would never speak to me again, he gave up everything to be my father. He lost his own wife while he tried to be the best for me, I knew this wouldn't kill her. I knew I wasn't right for her in any way. I caused so much mess in Andrea’s life, this was the only way to leave swiftly and make her hate me. It would be easier that way, if none of this happened she’d be home in Laredo burning for me. I already wasted too much of her life with my antics.” Fuck it, Javier’s cheeks were wet. He had been crying the second he opened his mouth. Rushing to say his peace until next week. 

He knows todays your birthday, but he wanted to keep something for himself. He wants to suffer that alone.

“It would hurt her but it wouldn't kill her. They knew I’d go away to Colombia anyway but at least she’ll be wed. I was set to be married two weeks later.”

[marvelslut16]

Acquaint Yourself With The Avengers

Prompt number: 29 "That's all? Easy."

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader

Rating: E(veryone)

Word count: 4.2k+

Warnings: Maybe some swearing. Slow Burn? Reality TV show hate. Bucky (and readers') self hatred. Talk of death.

A/N: Hey guys! I feel like I've been gone forever- work is killing me! But I'm back for Fictober and I'm really hoping I'll finally do the whole month. This is part 1 of 2 I think- but I'm open to writing more in this universe. Part two will be up in a few days if not tomorrow. I have never watched a reality TV show, so please bare with me for the mistakes I no doubt made.

“This has to be a joke,” you deadpan, throwing the joke of a contract onto the table in front of you. Steve murmurs in agreement on your left, and an increasingly uncomfortable Bucky shifts in his seat to Steve’s left. “Tony, reality shows are crap. What were you thinking?”

“This is coming from higher up than me,” he rubs his temples, giving away his exasperation. Over the years Tony started to slowly step out of the spotlight, no longer seeking out media coverage. “It’s directly from Fury, and the few Congress members that are still on our side. Since the Accord drama our ratings have been dipping, we need them to see that underneath it all we’re just human.”

“And if I don’t agree to it?” your voice hardens as you have a staring contest with the billionaire. 

“Then you’re out.”

“So you’re telling me if I don’t exploit my life, if we all don’t exploit our lives- we’re kicked to the curb. Just like that? Years of work and helping people just flushed down the toilet?” you’re on the verge of angry tears.

Your mother had drilled into your brain since you were a young impressionable child, that reality shows were trash, that they did more harm than good. The worse things people did on these shows the more famous they got, it teaches young children that they’ll get rewarded for their bad behavior. You wonder what she would think of you now, about to agree to become that trash just so you can continue to help the people that are bound to talk shit about each and every one of your friends online. 

“I agree with (Y/N/N),” Steve finally speaks up, quickly glancing at Bucky’s clenched fists. “Bucky shouldn’t be subjected to having twenty cameras shoved in his face, not so soon after rejoining society.”

It’s been a month since Bucky came to live with everyone at the newly built compound, he had spent the previous three months after the Accords in Wakanda receiving the best help Shuri could provide. You wouldn’t say that you and Bucky are friends, but you two are definitely friendlier than he is with most of the team. You’ve never pushed him to talk, you two can sit in peaceful silence, something Sam does regularly because of his experience with PTSD and the benefits of talking about it. 

“You’re just worried that more people are going to start speculating that you're dating him,” Sam joins the conversation, referencing the newest gossip article published today. Some ‘news’ site wrote a fifteen paragraph article speculating on a non-existent romance between the super soldiers, stemming from one single photo of Steve standing half in front of Bucky and pushing a camera out of his face on the way into a restaurant- for a team dinner. 

“On the topic of relationships, I don’t really want a bunch of cameras in mine and Clint’s,” Natasha speaks up from the other side of the table, Clint nods along.

“The last thing people need is hours of footage of Vis and me to analyze and bully us about, I already get enough judgment and hate,” Wanda adds, crossing her arms over her chest. Vis rests a comforting hand on her soldier, he’s learned enough about human emotions- especially Wanda’s- to know not to add anything. 

“You guys are overreacting,” Sam rolls his eyes. “Plus this could be a good time to promote things we’re passionate about, like group therapy for Veterans.” 

“It sounds fun,” Thor booms, you roll your eyes. No one will say anything about him, he’s conventionally attractive, has a sexy accent, and he’s a literal God. He has nothing but adoring fans. 

“All publicity is good publicity,” Tony grimaces. “We can’t go any lower, we’re already at the bottom of the barrel.”

“Peter’s lucky he’s a minor and anonymous,” you pout, out of the corner of your eye you can see Bucky crack a small smile. With that one final comment you're signing the contract, because at the end of the day you’ll do whatever it takes to be able to help those in need. Everyone has a similar vein of thought, all signing their own contracts. 

Later that night you're sitting in the living room with Bucky, the News is playing in the background, but neither of you had been paying it any mind. You’re too focused on coming up with worst case scenarios about the impending reality show. Bucky can practically hear the gears whirring in your head, he keeps glancing over at you to make sure you're okay. Not that you notice because you're too wrapped up in your own little world. 

“What if they edit it to make one of us the villain?” you ask out of nowhere, this is the first time you’ve broken the peaceful silence in the months you’ve been sitting with him. “Sorry, forget I said anything, I’m gonna head to bed.”

“It’ll be me,” Bucky whispers when you stand up from the couch. “They’ll take this opportunity to show everyone what a monster I am.”

“You aren’t a monster Bucky,” you squat down in front of him when you see that he’s staring at his lap. “You can’t be blamed for what Hydra made you do. And anyway, they usually pick an unsuspecting person on one of these shows and edit it so their words and actions are all twisted. They ruin people’s characters, not make hard hitting political statements.”

“You think they’ll target you?” he asks it like it’s a question, but it’s more of a statement. 

“Yeah I do,” you sigh, standing up and plopping on the couch beside Bucky for the first time. “I’m mysterious, or at least that’s what Tony and Peter keep telling me. I don’t have a big social media presence, I do my best to avoid the paparazzi when I go out, and I very rarely speak at press conferences. If they don’t make me the villain, I’m worried they’ll hyperfocus on me until I slip up and become one.”

“I think it’ll be Vision, since he’s a robot,” Bucky adds after a minute of silence, and you can’t help but smile at him.”

Before you know it, Wednesday rolls around, and the fifteen person crew shows up to invade your lives. You start to get overwhelmed by the ten cameras they are setting up, two in a confessional area, and the other three in the living room where you are all supposed to do your opening scripted talk- where Tony will explain why you guys are doing the reality show Acquaint Yourself With The Avengers. On top of those cameras, the crew are setting up hidden and security cameras to catch the action when they aren’t there filming on the main ones. Once you're all seated on the couches- your stuffed between Bucky and Sam- the PA, Alice, comes over to talk to you all.

“So filming will happen Thursday through Tuesday most weeks, unless a big event falls on an off day, crew leaves by ten PM at the latest, and the hidden cameras will go dormant after midnight. No children will be in the final product- as requested by Scott, we can evaluate on a case by case basis if any of the rest of you choose to have children down the line and want to show them. Are there any questions?” she asks, but gives a look that screams not to ask any. “Well if there aren’t any, we should get to shooting, we’re already twenty minutes behind.”

You say your two scripted lines in the beginning scene and then zone out through the rest, you’re a little worried your face will give your lack of enthusiasm away, but none of the crew says anything so you assume you're fine. Soon enough, you're dismissed, but not allowed to go far because the first interviews for all of you are about to take place in the dining room. You and Bucky both stay firmly planted on the couch while most of the others go to the kitchen to get something to drink, or lurk in the dining room to watch said interviews- Steve being the first to be interviewed. 

“Just act like the camera’s aren't there,” you say unhelpfully when you notice his gaze shifting uneasily from one camera to the next. In reality you too are struggling with them watching you from every possible angle. 

“That’s all? Easy,” Bucky deadpans, a laugh bursts out of your mouth and his eyes twinkle.

“Did you just make a joke,” you laugh again, this time far quieter. For the first time since the camera crew arrived you forget they’re there, too lost in this one real moment with Bucky, too lost in his gorgeous crystal blue eyes. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him let his guard down with anyone other than Steve. 

“And if I did?” he asks playfully, leaning in closer to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Then I’d say do it more often, it’s a good look on you,” you grin back at him, and you're only broken out of your trance when Alice calls for Tony. 

She calls you after Tony, hair and makeup come rushing over to give tiny last minute adjustments to your appearance after you're seated in front of a ring light. You start to fidget with the hem of your shirt as the PA flips through her paper to get to her list of questions about you, the suspense just making your anxiety skyrocket.

“To start off we’re just going to ask some easy and basic questions to get you warmed up. So (Y/N), you’ve been with the Avengers since it was first formed, tell us what that’s been like, and make sure you put the question in your answer.”

“I’ve been with the Avengers since 2011, I was the second one Director Fury recruited, right after Tony. I’ve loved all of the good deeds we have been able to do for people all over the world, and I’ve made some lifelong friendships too. It’s amazing being able to do something you love with the people you love.” 

“Good good,” Alice nods, looking down at her questions. “Now tell us how you feel about all of the new auditions to the team since then, and don’t hold back.”

“We’ve had some pretty great people join since the seven of us were originally put together, not only are they good, friendly people, but they are also all very skilled at what they do. I love watching the team grow, it just means that we have more skills and manpower to be able to help even more people,” Alice rolls her eyes at your response.

“For this next part we’re going to put up article headlines talking about how you’re the most private Avenger, even more so than Natasha. So just tell us why you’re so private.”

“There isn’t all that much to say, I’m just a private person,” Alice makes a keep going gesture from behind the camera. “I’ve always been pretty private and I was only thrust into the limelight when I joined the Avengers Initiative. I do my job to help people not to get recognition, that’s what my career has always been about. I never felt the need to post a lot of selfies online or make a tweet about the workout I just did. People are allowed to do those things, and there’s nothing wrong with that, I’ve just never understood why people would care what I’m doing in my day to day life.”

“Do you feel safe in the compound?” the question comes out of left field and you aren’t sure why it’s being brought up.

“Of course I feel safe! I’m in a highly secured compound with my fellow Avengers, there’s nothing safer.”

“One last question, everyone is dying to know, what’s your relationship status?” Alice even seems like she’s interested in the answer.

“Like I said before, I am a very private person, but I suppose I could answer this. For the whole two people wondering about my relationship status, I am single at the moment. I’ve just been really focusing on my job, and I’ve learned that people don’t necessarily like coming second to my job and my friends.”

“Thank you,” Alice smiles. “Can you send Bucky over next?”

You do as you’re told, search out Bucky and send him on his way to the dining room. Instead of heading to sweet freedom, your room, you loiter and watch Bucky’s intro interview. “Sergeant Barnes, what has it been like joining the Avengers and how has everyone treated you?”

“It’s been okay and mostly everyone-” Bucky gets cut off by Alice.

“Make sure you put the question in your answer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky is clearly starting to get agitated with all of the focus and cameras on him.

“Say something like joining the Avengers has been really good, it’s helping me get better with teamwork again blah blah blah. The team has welcomed me in and it’s reminiscent of my time in the Army, something like that,” Bucky gives one nod, turning back to the camera in front of him. 

“Joining the Avengers has been really good, it’s helping me get better with teamwork again,” you bring your hands to your mouth to stifle your laugh at Bucky repeating you word for word. “The team has welcomed me in and it’s reminiscent of my time in the Army.”

“Okay,” Alice draws the word out at Bucky’s lack of originality. “Who would you say your best friends on the team are?”

“Steve,” Bucky responds without thinking, and Alice tells him to mention at least one other person. “Other than Steve, probably (Y/N).” 

You're shocked, but flattered, by his response. Sure, he may have just said that because you were right there and staring at him, but maybe he meant it. Maybe all of those nights on the couch with him meant something to him.

“Oh really?” asks, clearly liking whatever spin she’ll eventually put on this conversation in editing. 

“Yeah, she um, she was the first one to really welcome me and spend time with me,” he rubs his neck nervously. 

“Just like (Y/N), you’re really private too,” you take a step forward seeing that the questioning is starting to put Bucky on edge. 

“Cause it’s no one's business,” Alice, thankfully, doesn’t push. 

“Are you ever worried you may do something to put your team members in danger?”

That’s enough!” your voice comes out firmer and louder than you imagined it would, drawing the attention of the rest of the Avengers. “Bucky isn’t going to sith there and take your abuse, his interview is done.”

You hold your hand out to him, and he jumps to grasp it, gripping it like it’s his lifeline. You’ve never touched Bucky before, and you keep your brain from running at how warm and nice his right hand feels in your own. You lead him out of the room, away from the prying eyes, and the now constant camera presence. You pull Bucky to your favorite room in the compound, the library. You deposit him on the comfy chaise lounge in the middle of the room while you go grab two books. You come back with Harry Potter for you, and The Hobbit for him, you had heard him talking to Steve about the movies once and learned he read it back in the day. 

Little do you know, the littlest action of knowing Bucky’s favorite book on top of the way you stood up for him out there means more to Bucky than he’ll ever know how to express. It thaws his frozen heart just a little.

[freddie-77-ao3]

Gonna use the ask box for this 🙃 ask 1/? (I have so many questions, though you have answered so many already)

What are your thoughts on Trials of Apollo, and the characters?

go ahead and keep asking!!! i love your questions!!

ANYWAY

gonna start smaller with characters:

lavinia: the jewish thing wasn't handled completely correctly (just a couple of small things there) but overall 10/10 character. i think she's hilarious and her official artwork ROCKS.

meg: i love her. she seems a little immature for twelve years old TO ME but i also had a... rather abnormal upbringing so that might explain the differences. overall she was a great character and i LOVE the demeter rep (my thoughts on how riordan treated demeter take five pages to clarify so-- basically) love seeing it-- demeter was a kronide and her kids should be treated as such! great character development. peaches was also hilarious (as was crotch-kicker mccaffrey)

lester: calling him lester to separate between godly apollo and post toa apollo. again, fantastic character development. he's so fucking funny. like he does some really dumb stuff at the start of the series (swearing to not use a musical instrument and stuff?? LESTER MAN CMON) his and meg's relationship is so sweet-- and kayla and austin with him? chefs kiss. love apollo kids getting some time with their dad.

jason: absolutely got fridged. i've already touched on my suicide theory so i won't go into that here but basically i think we shoulda seen jason similar to percy (very minor, doing his own thing behind the scenes) but alas.

piper: the shel thing was a bit sudden. don't get me wrong, i'm ALL for queer rep (i think there should be more of it in the books actually) but-- going straight from breaking up with jason to jason sacrificing himself for her to a relationship seems really unhealthy. i think she should have a chance to grow outside of a relationship.

reyna: joining the hunt was a bad end for her. since when was that an ambition of hers? she seemed genuinely happy in new rome and called it her home multiple times in HoO and going from that to the hunt? idk seems like rick doesn't know how to write characters NOT be in a relationship (piper, reyna, leo... they all get squared away)

leo: oh leo baby he didn't get to see jason before he died??? so heartbreaking. didn't belong in a relationship with calypso. the punching thing was weird when he came back to camp-- esp with a character who has a history of physical abuse

frank: i love the frank deciding his own fate thing but also idk seems like a cop out.

hazel: shouldn't have just become praetor i mean cmon. i love her but she's what, 14 now? no way.

Nico: FINALLY ONE OF THE CHARACTERS CANONICALLY GETS THERAPY. the doctors note is--

will: solangelo flirting is hilarious 10/10. "do you want to be my buddy?" "significant annoyance" i can't breathe. also poor will for putting up with apollo in the hidden oracle because i could not help my dad learn how to use the toilet i'm sorry but that shit is crazy.

malcolm: why is malcolm going to battle without pants on so funny to me i just-- 10/10 i love him.

connor: such a dumbass. the hair grafts 😭. i feel bad that travis isn't there and then communication lines go down like oh buddy :(

cecil: see me RUNNING with the knowledge cecil can cook

other small stuff:

love the waystation, always been my personal hc that there's more than just that one but that's for another post.

percabeth finally making it to college!!!

speaking of which AT WHAT TIME DID TRAVIS AND CLARISSE FILL OUT COLLEGE APPS THEY WERE AT WAR???? WHAT DO THEIR OFFICIAL TRANSCRIPTS LOOK LIKE???

the jackson-blofis family warms my heart <3

thoughts on the series as a whole?

i love it. definitely top three riordan series (tied with pjo and mcga)

i like that (like mcga) toa was more mature? like we finally see demigods with ptsd, we get queer characters, just... everything

[karamazovposting]

On Ivan and bipolar disorder (part two)

Before continuing from where I left off in part one I have to say something: I go over some heavier stuff in here. Nothing that isn't already present in the book and that I haven't seen mentioned in other people's metas, but I still want to give you a heads up: the main focus of part two is suicide/suicidal ideation and childhood trauma. I mean, this is a The Brothers Karamazov meta about a bipolar coded character so I think you all already knew these things were going to be in here, but I think that if you have bipolar disorder or are close to someone who has it some things could be upsetting or remind you of some unpleasant (to put it mildly) experiences. Writing certain things hits me at least (though not in a triggering way), but I think it's important to touch certain topics as they are core topics when it comes to bipolar disorder and it's impossible to talk about it without going over the ugly stuff. I've also been on meds and in therapy for years and I'm doing fairly well in life now so that's all in the past. Anyway don't worry, this is the only part of this essay that includes these topics.

This said, here's what I'll go over in this post: mostly what Ivan says in The brothers get acquainted, Rebellion, and The Grand Inquisitor, focusing more on the former two than the latter, as I personally find a particular passage of The brothers get acquainted to be one of the most beautiful and bipolar things I've ever read and we need to talk about Rebellion to further understand Ivan's inner world. The Grand Inquisitor isn't really that useful in this case but there's one thing that caught my attention.

As I already said in part one, The brothers get acquainted is the chapter that made me decide that Ivan is bipolar coded. I've even written a specific part of it down and read it to my therapist because I am, in fact, clinically insane. At this point I don't think I can hide how biased I am anymore, not that I ever really tried anyway, so I'll start by saying that this is my favorite part of the whole book. It may seem strange because it seems like such a small and simple chapter: it's not The Grand Inquisitor, it doesn't have the dreamlike atmosphere of Cana of Galilee or the chaotic passion of Delirium; it's not the courtroom scene or the epilogue. No one's getting murdered or hallucinating the devil or getting falsely accused, just Ivan talking about himself and letting us see his humanity like we had never before. We get to know him in the same way and at the same time his own brother does.

Why is this, in my opinion, the most crucial passage? What does it tell us? This is the first window on Ivan's inner world we get and the first thing it tells us, through Alyosha, is that there's a significant gap between how other people see Ivan and how he actually is. I mean, we already had a glimpse of that in the previous chapters through Miusov, Dmitri and even Fyodor, but Ivan was never there. The difference here is not only that Ivan is present, but also that Alyosha managed to see right through him in a way the others didn't, and it's telling that Alyosha asks Ivan if he'll get angry and feel insulted after hearing what he picked up on, considering that it's just that Ivan is after all a regular twenty-three year old. Alyosha even tells him he's nice! The thing is that Alyosha thinks that to Ivan the offense wouldn't be in what he managed to see in him, but in the fact that he managed to see it in the first place. I think I'll go over this and the other characters' perception of Ivan in part three because it doesn't really fit with this part's themes and also I have a feeling this post will get long even without it (sorry!).

Ivan is not angry at all though, he's amused and he takes this opportunity to open up; after all he did say he wanted Alyosha to get to know him (and viceversa!). I think it's important to note that he ends up pretty much monologuing for three chapters straight, almost as if he's used to bottling up his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself (I'm pretty sure it's actually stated somewhere that he does, I had some little notes I wrote in my phone mentioning something like that but my notes app crashed before I could save them and I can't for the life of me find it in the book, but I swear it's there).

Here we get to see Ivan's rather unusual attitude towards life: he's not actively suicidal in that moment, but he doesn't exclude the possibility of suicide later in life, and not only this is a very bipolar feeling on its own, but the origin of this feeling and the way he explains his reasons also are. Ivan is very tired, both physically and mentally, it's stated multiple times through the novel, but he doesn't necessarily hate life even though he has mixed feelings towards it; on one hand he says there is no kind of misery, no matter how deep, capable of making him want to stop living (after all, bipolar disorder is all about bouncing back up no matter what), but on the other hand he's repulsed by life and that's why he describes his lust for it as inconvenient and against logic. He wants to live but he hates that he wants to live and he knows he'll eventually get tired of it and just quit, and it's something he feels very strongly, all of it. The thing that really sticks out to me and that struck me is that his passive suicidal ideation is very thought out (unlike Dmitri's which feels more impulsive to me but that's another story for another post), like he's gone through miserable periods of his life several times (I mean, the narrator does also say it) and he came to the conclusion that yes, this is bearable, but only for a limited number of years. He says he asked himself a thousand times if it's worth it and after a thousand times he gave himself the illusion of choice: I will kill myself but I won't succumb to my misery, I'll just be too tired to keep living, it will be my choice. With Ivan (just like with bipolar disorder in general) it's all about control and it's something that hits very close to home to me to the point I had to stop reading to stare at the wall and go he gets it. He really does, this is a very common sentiment and experience among people with bipolar disorder and that's why it's sadly one of the mental disorders with the highest suicide rate (and most historical figures with bipolar disorder I know about actually did die by suicide). The constant up and down is exhausting and that's exactly the feeling Ivan's words gave me, he describes the bipolar experience so well I was genuinely impressed considering The Brothers Karamazov was written and is set in the second half of the 1800s, when psychiatry and psychology were just starting to be born. I think it's also important to mention that he doesn't really give himself much time either: he's only twenty-three and he set his own life to end at thirty. It's only seven years, but seven years can seem like an infinite amount of time when you have to deal with what we have to, especially if we consider my interpretation of Ivan and his childhood. What do I mean by that? I mean that this is about to get interesting (and kind of personal).

Now, in the past almost two-hundred years, no one has still figured out the exact cause of bipolar disorder as the exact mechanism behind it is still unclear (to the point we don't even know why the meds used to treat it work, we just know that for some reason they do) but it mostly comes down to two factors: genetic and environmental. It's usually a mix of the two and it's most likely that once again it varies between individuals, but a very common bipolar experience is the one of a traumatic and overwhelming childhood: many of us had to deal with a mentally ill parent growing up due to the genetic factor and many of us went through so much stress and trauma that the end result could be nothing but bipolar disorder. And this is where Ivan's character stumbles in: I think his protectiveness towards children and his impossibility to accept their suffering stem from his impossibility to accept his own traumatic childhood. Let's be clear, all four brothers had a traumatic childhood, but Ivan seems to be the one who's most impacted by it. Dmitri was abandoned by his mother at the age of three and his father forgot about him (just like he forgot about Ivan and Ivan also seems deeply affected by that considering how he reacts when Fyodor doesn't remember Aleksej's mother was also his own), Pavel never got to know his due to her death in childbirth, and Aleksej's only memories of his mother are fuzzy and dreamlike, which leaves Ivan as the only one who actually has clear memories of his mother: an ill woman who probably couldn't take care of him and his little brother properly because of that and who died young (very traumatic for a child); he probably still remembers her screams. There's a very well written post about how each brother was affected by their respective missing mother figure so I won't go into that because there's no need and it doesn't really fit in here, but I think this is a very important part of Ivan's life that also obviously reflects in his adulthood (again, I'll talk about it in the future), and that we have to take into consideration as an example of what kind of pain a child has to go through to turn out a certain way.

But why am I saying this? I'll be honest with you: mere projection. Ivan's words on the injustice of children's suffering resonated with me so much, especially in relation to his refusal to accept God's existence in a world that allows such things to happen. As you probably figured, I'm an atheist myself and I am for the same reasons he is. There's a quote by Sylvia Plath, who also had bipolar disorder: I talk to God but the sky is empty. I won't elaborate because I don't feel like this is the place, but I relate to it a lot and I think it's applicable to Ivan as well. Mind you that I'm not here to talk about religion, I mean no disrespect and I wouldn't have mentioned my atheism if it hadn't been relevant, so please don't say anything unnecessary about that.

My projection went even further when I realised that Ivan is young (we're the same age actually!), what business does he have to be talking like that? Why does he talk like that but his brothers don't? But I also talk like that so here's that and here's connecting the dots, as I started doing a couple paragraphs ago.

Symptoms of bipolar disorder on average start manifesting during early adulthood, which checks out because Ivan is twenty-three. But he already seems to have a lot of experience "on the field" and it's unusual for someone that age, so it got me thinking a lot, mostly about my own experience. I was "lucky" enough (I still haven't figured out if I'm being sarcastic or not, as it can be both a blessing and a curse, how ironic) to develop symptoms way earlier than the usual onset age of twenty-five, which led me to being diagnosed and starting treatment as a teenager (blessing, the earlier you start treatment the more effective it is on the long run), but which also means I was a terrified child fighting for my life on a daily basis (curse, for obvious reasons) and I thought that maybe Ivan's background could be similar to mine considering what I said earlier about his very strong feelings towards the suffering of children; it's still projection but at least it makes sense. I genuinely don't know how common this experience is, apparently cases like mine are quite rare (I've had this disorder for most of my life), so I guess I also take some sort of comfort in Ivan's character due to this.

And with that, we're done with both The brothers get acquainted and Rebellion, so where does this leave The Grand Inquisitor? As I said earlier, there isn't much to say about it in my opinion when it comes to the point I'm trying to make, but there is one particular thing that I noticed: Ivan thanks Alyosha for listening to him, he thanks him for caring. I found it very sweet but also quite sad and I think it's useful insight about how Ivan lives his life and his relationships with other people. If everything goes as planned, part three should be mostly focused on that and Ivan's particular (and partially self-inflicted) loneliness (which is also tied to how other people perceive him, I already mentioned that, I know) so I won't talk about it now. I also want to highlight that Ivan makes a joke! It's not the usual kind of joke he makes though, as we previously see that Ivan's humor consists mostly of taking the piss out of people he doesn't particularly like or agree with, this time he makes a lighthearted joke about his poem that isn't at the expense of anyone ("that's plagiarism") and he's even described as being delighted in that moment. I personally found that cute and I think we don't talk about this side of Ivan enough.

I'll stop here because I think I covered everything I wanted to regarding these particular parts of the book. I'm not completely satisfied with this, but I got stuck for days because it was a little hard for me to write this part, I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible because I had to treat matters I'm sensitive about (hence the slight change of tone between this and my other posts, I noticed and I hope it wasn't too depressing, I tried throwing in some humor here and there), so I wrote in as little sittings as possible and I barely gave this a couple rereads, sorry. It feels more emotional than part one, which is something I am not a fan of but I'm not surprised and there isn't much I can do about it (other than fix my own discomfort with human emotions I guess but I'm working on it). I wanted to write this but at the same time I didn't but there was no way for me to completely exclude my personal experience as it's the main reason why I saw what I saw in Ivan and I'm writing this essay in the first place, but please don't dwell too much on it. I managed to edit most of it out anyway but still.

I wanted to go over Ivan's implied problem with alcohol as well and also the comparison with Dmitri (I mentioned him at the beginning for this reason) because I see the two of them as being two sides of the same coin, but I didn't really know how to include them (I think I'll briefly talk about the former in one of the next parts but I'm not sure how or when) and then I realised these topics can be treated together (as I think they're related) in a separate and more elaborate post that is not part of this essay, so look forward to that (and the rest of this long ass thing).