#like where it no longer requires effort or ‘discomfort’ to like… call your kid the right name or sthg

[gender-euphowrya]

transmasc 🤝 transfem solidarity is so fucking beautiful y’all

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub​ for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like. 

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway. 

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side. 

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate. 

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so. 

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire. 

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time. 

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on. 

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes. 

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit. 

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal. 

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked. 

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously. 

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was. 

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back. 

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room. 

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen. 

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach. 

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen. 

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked. 

“They are,” Whale confirmed. 

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried. 

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe. 

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance. 

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate. 

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it. 

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

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly. 

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body. 

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope. 

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more. 

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal. 

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven. 

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed. 

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing. 

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained. 

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. 

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him. 

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her. 

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez​ @jennjenn615​ @superadam54​ @ashley-knightingale​ @justsomewhump​ @teamhook​ @88infinity88​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[aayilahkaylee]

Carbon as a major factor in the origin of life and carbonated water.

Summary: They both think too much and are highly interpretive of their surroundings - objectively, of course. So it is inevitable that they will do the same with their soul mate brands, but things will look really simple on a trip to the zoo, where many carbon-based life forms are gathered, an element that is also part of their trademark formula.

Notes: This is part of the first challenge done on Twitter by @DcstChallenges, with the theme of soulmates. Don't hesitate to join on twitter and participate or support future challenges.

The system of soulmate identification was nothing more than an inefficient diversity of methods with a huge margin of error or at least ambiguity.

Statistics and probability confirmed this, Senku made use of these calculations in trying to understand this phenomenon, ruling out unprovable facts such as the resonance of dreams or thoughts, or slightly questionable ones such as writing on one's own skin and this also appearing on the other person's (how many could be writing on their own skin and inventing that it was their soulmate who had written to them?). Also the countdowns to over a thousand years were also proof of the untruthfulness that came with it.

Rooted to the facts, the mark on Ishigami Senku's right forearm was supposed to be the mark of his soul mate, but to him it was nothing more than the affirmation that he loved science.

At a certain point, he came to think that simply marks like his did not mean that someone was his soulmate, but that they simply had similar enough tastes or interests that they could hit it off. Which would explain why most people who found his markings ended up being a couple.

On his arm was tattooed the formula NaHCO₃, one of the most important compounds in history, to which he gave the meaning of being what proved that his destiny was science.

On the contrary, Asagiri Gen wondered if among his peers there would be someone whose first word they would cross with him would be that compound; would they pronounce it as the formula read, or would they simply say 'sodium bicarbonate'?

Eventually, his peculiar mark of soul mate became just another joke in his extensive repertoire, with the formula actually demonstrating his deep love of soda, with every bottle of cola that fell into his hands being his destiny.

They didn't think about it often, in fact they even forgot they had such a mark as they were so focused on their respective scientific and psychological/magical matters. So that Saturday, the marks on their arms were not foremost in their brains, instead they found themselves early in the morning preparing to leave for the zoo.

Byakuya found it opportune to distract his busy eleven year old son from incessant curiosity from time to time, offering visits that were stimulating and fun enough that Senku couldn't refuse, though there was no way he would have declined because he appreciated the old man's affectionate intentions... sometimes, when he didn't force him to wear a cap because of the sun.

At the same time, with the pressure of socialisation and the opportunity to experiment with his own charisma, Gen spouted witty remarks and questions to uncover those classmates who invited him on this outing. Exploiting his charisma and his wit to make their company more pleasant, until he was able to get a break after the lion section, offering his companions to set aside a table until they returned with snacks.

Had Senku perhaps taken two seconds longer to heed his periphery, he would have continued the tour with his father to leave and subsequently go for a bite to eat together, but inevitably he noticed the wrist of a young man of about fourteen or fifteen.

NaHCO₃

And he immediately asked Byakuya to pause, sending him to sit down to wait, which the elder somehow interpreted as a coy statement that Senku was hungry, so like a good tutor he retreated to get food.

Senku adjusted the straps of his backpack and positioned himself in front of the jet-haired boy, who was arranging a pair of pretentious sunglasses. He thought of a few probing questions, certain that the young man in front of him was also a science buff (What else could that mark mean?).

But Gen won the speak, slightly taken aback. "Are you lost?" he asked at the boy's sudden appearance.

So Senku dismissed all the questions he had thought of, remembering where they were and convinced that Gen was there for academic reasons.

"Elephant gestation lasts about twenty-two months and during elephant pregnancy the calf grows to a hundred or a hundred and fifty kilograms." he said.

‘Huh?!’

Senku counted thirty seconds, in which his determination showed in the way his brow tightened with each passing second. Gen remained expressionless despite the discomfort, inwardly contorting his face in stupefaction ‘What the hell is this...?!’

"Hah~," he regained his composure immediately and smiled. "as interesting as elephants being afraid of bees." replied, assuming this was one of those kids who liked fun facts... until realised he was looking for something more technical. "It's because bees can get into the mucous membranes and delicate parts of the elephant like the trunk, mouth or eyes and sting them. Of course, they can't pierce their skin, but you should know that.

This time it took ten seconds, which made the major sweat, until Senku smiled slyly.

"Not bad." the younger acknowledged.

Immediately, feeling a great deal of encouragement to exchange his extensive knowledge with Gen, he surmised that perhaps such chemical reactions, like the one he was feeling, were the explanation for why people who could not see colours got it when they met the person they matched with. Or how eye colour could change when they met, nothing more than physiological reactions related to hormones and perhaps genetic compatibility.

Interest was also piqued in Gen, who was trying to explain why Senku had taken the seat next to him so deliberately. When would he get the chance to meet someone so slightly peculiar again? The intrigue to know how effective his skill would be with this boy was agitating.

"Are you sure you're not lost." Gen echoed, holding his hands out to his sides in an effort to appear receptive. Senku's body language indicated he was being cautious. "Your parents won't be angry that you got separated from them, animals and information plates are so entertaining that they do this all the time."

Senku denied, lifting his face from the horizon to Gen. "You assume I'm coming with my family when the likelihood of me coming for a school trip is seventy-five percent, considering the offer they have for students on weekends." replied quizzically at that miscalculation.

If this kid had information about the elephants' pregnancy, why was Gen surprised that he also knew that accurate figure?

"You're right from a monetary and practical perspective," Gen said, not doubting that Senku was correct. "but, statistically, weekends are used for family and friends." the boy seemed unhappy that Gen didn't give an accurate figure "I think if you came with friends, you would have been lost together, and you don't look angry enough to explain away an argument."

Because of his sullen nature, Senku looked at him incredulously, slightly annoyed by the blatantly accurate analysis. He attributed his discomfort to the lack of numerical data that could have helped him compare and assimilate the diagnosis.

"Go on." Senku demanded.

Gen's hands continued the expressive mimicry, unconsciously showing his mar. "If it was a school trip, your teacher would have already reported you missing, the same applies if you were accompanied by the parents or relatives of your friends; the responsibility for a child who doesn't belong to them would have already mobilised them. I see you're learning a lot, but the absence of an alarmed teacher" Gen glanced around before continuing. "-means that a school trip is not the case."

"Efficient, a ten billion percent efficient." Senku credited.

All it took was a push. "Or could this be a distress call?" Gen moved slightly closer to add privacy. "Are you running away from someone?" he added in a sympathetic, empathetic tone.

Senku closed his eyes, weary of the other's deductions. "Fine, my father couldn't wait for us to go out to get something to eat, I know exactly where he is."

Gen smirked, proud that he had so neatly broken down the boy's suspicious barriers "So you came to me to entertain yourself in the meantime?" he remarked, considering he was apparently the only one who was also alone in waiting and thus became Senku's target. "You don't seem like the kindly type who would come up with an interesting fact just to entertain others without getting something in return." he mentioned intentionally.

If it was not help the younger man required, was looking for something more, an his restless gaze confirmed it.

The small, calloused hand pointed to Gen's forearm. "Your mark, it means sodium bicarbonate." said.

Among the things Gen expected to hear next was not his mark of a soul mate "I'm aware of that." replied. He wasn't aware of was that wearing a short-sleeved shirt in the heat would attract the attention of a stranger that day.

Senku smiled. The older might be different from what expected in terms of methodology and analysis, but that he knew the significance of his tattoo evidently earned him a ten billion points.

Gen for his part recalled the Monster Hunter player who explained the original use of NaHCO₃ for soda, which was the origin of the joke that, looking the boy straight in the eye, he backed away from wanting to change to an allusion to cheating on chemistry exams.

"Do you know what it means?" Senku asked with abrupt energy. Revolutionary inventions and the many uses of NaHCO₃ flashed through his head.

Unexpectedly, that excitement rubbed off on Gen and he replied. "I know what it means. "

Byakuya didn't wonder at first why Senku had decided to leave his arm exposed for the rest of the tour. The heat was reason enough... until he noticed that his son kept staring at the mark when he always downplayed it.

"In the rest area there was a boy who had the same mark as me." Senku revealed, making his father's jaw drop to the floor.

Sure, it had to be something like that, but Byakuya could never have guessed it was that encounter. And it wasn't his fault either, the last time Senku had been dismayed by his mark, it was when he explained to a stranger in Monster Hunter the uses of NaHCO₃, pleading for the component's inclusion in more video games.

As a result, Byakuya dragged Senku back to the zoo in search of his soulmate, admonishing him for being so insensitive and for letting the encounter go unnoticed without remorse. Disgruntled, Senku reaffirmed that all this talk of love and romance was as tedious as it was counterproductive.

Gen was satisfied on the way to the train station, the talk he had with the boy stretching into a mutually stimulating mix of technical commentary on carbon and life on earth, and a smattering of curiosities and humorous observations that he knew would please the youngster. He had been put to a demanding test, in a way that none of his companions could ever have done.

Which was perhaps why he ignored them until one mentioned:

"Asagiri, that boy you were talking to when we arrived, I saw him before we left and on his forearm he had a mark similar to yours." he alluded hesitantly.

The pieces fell into place... and Gen lost his senses once again.

It certainly wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last time sodium bicarbonate would bring them together under a new manifestation.

[comfy-whumpee]

Arden

TW: drugging, discussion of murder, panic attack.

I promised to write a drabble about Arden months ago, so thank you to the requesters for their patience: @eatyourdamnpears & @castielamigos-whump-side-blog

Arden has been working for the Teacher for nearly a decade, and he loves his job.

Martinez stands over the trainee, dark hair falling around her shoulders, cooing her usual little song. “You need your medicine,” she says, her lilting voice singsong sweet. “You’re sick. It’ll help you, come on. Open wide.”

 The trainee opens her mouth and Martinez gives her the pill. “There you go, there’s your dose for the day, all done,” she soothes, her grin hungry. “Shh, shh, no squirming.”

 588 shudders at the feeling of Martinez’s hand pushing her head down gently. She folds, down into a ball on the floor.

 “Get some sleep. You’ve still got some work to do before you’re ready to go.”

 Arden stands in the doorway, watching in case of an escape attempt. It’s pointless, with Martinez in there and the trainee barely able to stand, but it’s protocol. He keeps his arms folded and his expression blank. Showing boredom in front of the trainees is acceptable, but discomfort? Never.

 When Martinez finally leaves 588 alone, Arden closes and locks the cell. Martinez is already strolling on to the next one, a satisfied smile on her snakelike face. This is her favourite time of day. Most guards like the drug rounds. As long as the doses get updated properly on the board in the staff room, there’s no real way to do it wrong. The drugging is the one time the guards have carte blanche to do anything required. The trainees must be drugged. Do whatever you need.

 Arden loves his job.

 The new kid, Mason, is waiting outside the cell for 589. “Boss wants you,” he says to Arden, arms folded in his tough-guy look. “Special job.”

 Arden’s heart sinks. He leaves his colleagues behind exchanging whispers about what he’s doing this time. Everyone knows if the Teacher has a special job, it’s Arden he calls for. Special, as Martinez is probably explaining, is code for violent.

 Arden finds him in his office, already standing and with his coat on. “There you are,” he says, smiling. “Let’s head out.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 He leads the way, out past the training rooms, where some of the guards are eating lunch and others are just throwing food around for the trainees to clean up later. Arden doesn’t look through the doors as they go by, knowing nobody in there cares enough to greet him.

 Out of the building, and they cross the tarmac to the car park. The Teacher’s car is a simple silver sedan, and Arden knows it well enough to give the passenger door a second pull when he’s shut and inside, to make sure it clicks. The Teacher starts the engine and pulls out of his reserved spot, swipes his key card at the gate, and they pull out onto open road - or at least, industrial estate road.

 Arden rests his head back and looks out of the window at the sky. Clouds screen out the sun today, a pale sheet of blue-white that makes the whole expanse a single colour.

 “Do you remember 510?” the Teacher says conversationally, watching the road.

 Arden doesn’t look over. “Of course, sir. You took him to your home two weeks ago.”

 “Yes. He’s reached the end of his tenure, I’m afraid. Glove box.”

 Arden swallows, his skin chilling. He reaches for the glove box. Inside is a printout with a map, a location marked with a red cross.

 “It’s a long drive, I’m afraid,” the Teacher says. “We’re taking him back to his home city. There’s quite a cohort looking for him.”

 Arden doesn’t know why he’s surprised. 510 was the star witness at the Alice Landon trial, the one that made the Teacher angry for months and forced the business into a temporary shutdown. He’d hoped, when the Teacher said he was no longer suitable for sale, that it meant the Teacher would be finding a new place for him. He’d allowed himself to believe it, when 510 went to stay with the Teacher’s wife.

 But the wife never keeps people for long. A mere fortnight with her, and now, 510 has a grave marked out for him.

 They pull up to the Teacher’s street, pass through the gates, and enter his garage with the dark blue door, reeling up automatically at the approach of the Teacher’s car. They enter the concrete room, boxes and shelves lining the back, two figures coming through the door to the main house. One is tall, narrow, and supporting the other, shuddering and blindfolded with twisted fingers and thumbs.

 Arden’s heart stops. The smaller figure is 510, he knows 510, 510 doesn’t bother him, but--

 “Thank you, 326,” the Teacher said as he gets out of the car.

 --the other is 326. The Teacher’s favourite. He’s back.

 He has the same look that Arden remembers from his training: the dead-eyed apathy that had become his coping mechanism over weeks of being forced to torture others. He is wearing a fitted shirt and slacks. There is a thin black collar around his neck, barely an inch wide. It is without comment or even a flicker of emotion, that he hands the dazed, drugged 510 over to his execution. He’s back, and the Teacher is keeping him. He belongs to the Teacher now. He’s the Teacher’s.

 Arden reaches for his throat. He’s okay. His pulse beats quickly under his fingers. He’s okay.

 Arden loves his job.

 The boot slams, making him jump, his breath catching. 510 has been shut away. The Teacher motions to Arden, and he scrambles to get out. 326 has already disappeared back into the house.

 “Switch the plates and...”

 He stops. He frowns. Eyes run across his expression with the perfect attention of an examiner Arden stands, submitting to the analysis. There’s no point pretending that the Teacher can’t read him.

 “Arden,” he says quietly, kindly. “Look at me.” When Arden makes eye contact, the Teacher slowly raises one of his hands to shoulder height. “Breathe.”

 Arden sucks in air, and shudders as it goes down.

 The hand falls. “And out.”

 The air escapes through effort. At the Teacher’s motion, he breathes in again, then out.

 “I forgot,” the Teacher says, one hand still moving to keep him going. “You don’t like 326, do you?”

 The hand pauses to allow him to reply. “N-No, sir.”

 “Mm. You felt threatened.”

 The hand rises, and stops. “Yes, sir,” Arden says thinly, without letting any air escape him.

 And down. Breathe out. He feels calmer. “That’s alright, Arden,” the Teacher says. His gaze holds Arden in place, holds him in the present. They’ve known each other for ten years, after all, and there is nobody Arden can trust more. “326 will not replace you,” he states, slowly and with certainty. “Nobody will replace you.”

 Arden nods, one shaking hand reaching back to find the car and steady himself. It’s so quiet and grey in the garage, it’s like being back at the compound. He feels twenty again, staring at the Teacher with wide eyes, waiting to find out his role.

 “I offered you this job as long as you want it. And you still want it, don’t you?”

 Arden nods again. “I want to, to work,” he breathes on an exhalation.

 “That’s right,” the Teacher smiles, and the look of approval lifts some of the weight from Arden’s chest. “That’s why I gave you a name, Arden. That’s why I took off your collar. I let you grow your hair. I gave you a room at my compound. You’re not like the others.”

 Arden’s breathing hitches out of time as he hears the echo of a thousand repetitions in those words. You’re not like the others, 326.

 “Arden,” the Teacher calls him back. “Arden. Stay with me. Nobody’s throwing you away, Arden. I’m keeping you. You belong to me.”

 Arden shivers as the Teacher’s hand rests on his shoulder again.

 “Your place is with me,” the Teacher reminds him. “Your job is with me. Alright? Now, change the plates and drive to the site. 510 needs disposing of.”

 Arden watches the hand stop conducting his breathing, and consciously takes over. He can do this. A job is a job. 510 has to die, because the Teacher wants him to. Arden’s job is to serve the Teacher, whatever is asked of him, anything.

 He touches his throat. No collar. No sluggish, drugged pulse.

 He nods. The Teacher lets go, and he exchanges the number plates for fake ones, and gets in. He’s going to drive 510 out to a ditch, beat him senseless, turn him face down into a puddle, and, and leave him to die. He doesn’t think he can cope with watching.

 He gets in the car, and the Teacher waves before he drives off. Arden keeps steady on the wheel, obeys traffic laws, and thinks about how to make sure someone will die, but not as a direct result of his own hands.

 It’s a challenge. There are always challenges at this job. But this job comes with a name, and a private life, and no collar and no drugs.

 Arden loves his job.

[naturecpw]

How to Build a Life There Are Two Kinds of Happy People

Some of us strive for a virtuous life. Others strive for a pleasant one. We could all use a better balance. Arthur C. Brooks  January 28, 2021

One person touches the needles of a cactus while another smells the cactus flowers.   JAN BUCHCZIK

“How to Build a Life” is a weekly column by Arthur Brooks, tackling questions of meaning and happiness.

These days, we are offered a dizzying variety of secrets to happiness. Some are ways of life: Give to others; practice gratitude. Others are minor hacks: Eat kale; play a board game. Some are simply an effort to make a buck.

I have found that most of the serious approaches to happiness can be mapped onto two ancient traditions, promoted by the Greek philosophers Epicurus and Epictetus. In a nutshell, they focus on enjoyment and virtue, respectively. Individuals typically gravitate toward one style or the other, and many major philosophies have followed one path or the other for about two millennia. Understanding where you sit between the two can tell you a lot about yourself—including your happiness weak points—and help you create strategies for a more balanced approach to life.

Epicurus (341–270 B.C.) led an eponymous school of thought—Epicureanism—that believed a happy life requires two things: ataraxia (freedom from mental disturbance) and aponia (the absence of physical pain). His philosophy might be characterized as “If it is scary or painful, work to avoid it.” Epicureans see discomfort as generally negative, and thus the elimination of threats and problems as the key to a happier life. Don’t get the impression that I am saying they are lazy or unmotivated—quite the contrary, in many cases. But they don’t see enduring fear and pain as inherently necessary or beneficial, and they focus instead on enjoying life.

Epictetus (c. 50–c. 135 A.D.) was one of the most prominent Stoic philosophers, who believed happiness comes from finding life’s purpose, accepting one’s fate, and behaving morally regardless of the personal cost. His philosophy could be summarized as, “Grow a spine and do your duty.” People who follow a Stoic style see happiness as something earned through a good deal of sacrifice. Not surprisingly, Stoics are generally hard workers who live for the future and are willing to incur substantial personal cost to meet their life’s purpose (as they see it) without much complaining. They see the key to happiness as working through pain and fear, not actively avoiding them.

Epicureans and Stoics can coexist, and even cohabitate (my wife and I have such a mixed marriage). But in my experience, Stoics and Epicureans tend to look down on one another, and appear to have been doing so for about as long as both philosophies have existed. The 3rd-century biographer Diogenes Laërtius wrote that “Epictetus calls [Epicurus a] preacher of effeminacy and showers abuse on him.” While there’s no historical record of it, I can easily imagine Epicurus responding to Epictetus, “You totally need to chill out.”

For roughly 2,000 years, philosophers have asked which approach leads to greater happiness and a better life. My purpose here is different. Both views have virtues and weaknesses. I want to know what each of us, given our natural tendency toward one of the approaches, can learn and adopt from the other.

For Epicurus, unhappiness came from negative thoughts, including needless guilt, fear of things we can’t control, and a focus on the inevitable unpleasant parts of life. The solution was to banish them from the mind. To this end, he proposed a “four-part cure”: Don’t fear God; don’t worry about death; what is good is easy to get (by lowering our expectations for what we need to be happy); what is terrible is easy to endure (by concentrating on pleasant things even in the midst of suffering). This is made all the easier when we surround ourselves with friendly people in a peaceful environment.

Epicurus promoted hedonia, from which we derive the word hedonism. However, he would not have recognized our current usage of the term. The secret to banishing negative thoughts, according to Epicurus, is not mindless debauchery—despite the baseless rumors that he led wild parties and orgies, he taught that thoughtlessly grabbing easy worldly pleasures is a mistake, because ultimately they don’t satisfy. Instead, reason was Epicurus’s best weapon against the blues. For example, here is the mantra he suggests we tell ourselves when the fear of death strikes: “Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here. And when it does come, we no longer exist.”

In contrast to hedonia, the Stoic approach is known as eudaimonia, which might be defined as a life devoted to our greatest potential in service of our highest ideals. Stoicism is characterized by the principles of naturalism and moralism—changing the things we can to make life better while also accepting the things we can’t change. (The “Serenity Prayer” is very Stoic.) “Don’t demand that things happen as you wish,” Epictetus wrote in The Enchiridion, “but wish that they happen as they do happen, and you will go on well.”

Moralism is the principle that moral virtue is to be defined and followed for its own sake. “Tell yourself, first of all, what kind of man you want to be,” Epictetus wrote in his Discourses, “and then go ahead with what you are doing.” In other words, create a code of virtuous conduct for yourself and live by it, with no loopholes for convenience.

Epicureans and Stoics are encouraged to focus their attention on different aspects of life—and death. Epicurus’s philosophy suggested that we should think intently about happiness, while for Stoics, the paradox of happiness is that to attain it, we must forget about it; with luck, happiness will come as we pursue life’s purpose. Meanwhile, Epicurus encourages us to disregard death while we are alive, and Epictetus insists that we confront it and ponder it regularly, much like the maranasati meditation in Buddhism, in which monks contemplate their own deaths and stages of decay.

No research to date asks why some people are naturally more Epicurean and others more Stoic. No doubt there is a genetic component, given the large percentage of personality that sits encoded somewhere in our DNA. But nurture likely also plays a role: In one study, a scholar found that parents who modeled and endorsed eudaimonia had kids who engaged in eudaimonic pursuits. Meanwhile, parents who role-modeled hedonia had kids who grew up to derive pleasure primarily from this model. The implication is pretty clear: If you want children who principally pursue duty and honor, do so yourself. If instead you strive to achieve happiness by minimizing pain, your kids probably will too.

People have argued for centuries about which approach is better for happiness, but they largely talk past one another. In truth, each pursues different aspects of happiness: Epicurus’s style brings pleasure and enjoyment; Epictetus’s method delivers meaning and purpose. As happiness scholars note, a good blend of these things is likeliest to deliver a truly happy life. Too much of one—a life of trivial enjoyment or one of grim determination—will not produce a life well lived, as most of us see it.

The big question is, therefore, how people can manufacture a good blend in their lives between the two approaches. Here are three ideas.

1. Know thyself.

This expression is one of the Delphic maxims, carved into the pronaos of the Temple of Apollo at Delphi in ancient Greece. It acknowledges the fundamental truth that we can’t make forward progress in life if we don’t know where we are situated right now. Answering the question thus starts with an informal but honest answer to this question: When my mood is low, do I naturally look to increase my level of pleasure and enjoyment, or do I focus on meaning and purpose in my life? The former is a sign that you tend toward being an Epicurean, the latter that you are more of a Stoic.

More scientifically, several research-based tools to judge Epicurean or Stoic tendencies have been developed. For example, scholars fielded a survey in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences that helps uncover hedonistic tendencies. The “Meaning in Life Questionnaire” from the University of Pennsylvania’s Authentic Happiness Questionnaire Center arguably measures eudaimonic tendencies quite well. (On this test, I learned that I am near the top of the population in my efforts to search for meaning in life, but below average in having found it.)

2. Beef up the other side.

The key to blending enjoyment and meaning is not to suppress what you have, but to bolster what you lack. Once you have situated yourself on the spectrum, you can formulate a strategy to strengthen the discipline you are missing (assuming that you’re not in the middle already).

At the end of each day, you might examine the events you experienced, and ask yourself harmonizing questions. For example:

   Did this event bring me enjoyment? Did it also bring me meaning?    Did this make me feel afraid? Did I learn something from this fear that will lead to less fear in the future?    Did this serve my interests? Did it serve the interest of others?

Make resolutions that attempt to achieve yes-yes combinations to these questions.

You can also engage in concrete exercises that remediate your weakness. Stoics, for example, might program regular weekends away with friends, leaving all work at home. Meanwhile, Epicureans might do something difficult and strenuous like training for a marathon. Stoics should read this column about happiness and discuss it during their weekends away. Epicureans should spend their running time pondering the reality and meaning of death. 3. Build a happiness portfolio that uses both approaches.

Finally, it is important to pursue life goals in which each happiness approach reinforces the other. That portfolio is simple, and I have written about it before: Make sure your life includes faith, family, friendship, and work in which you earn your success and serve others. Each of these elements flexes both the Stoic and the Epicurean muscles: All four require that we be fully present in an Epicurean sense and that we also work hard and adhere to strong commitments in a Stoic sense.

The deeper point in all this is an ancient one: A balanced approach to happiness in life is best. In his essay “The Natural History of Intellect,” Ralph Waldo Emerson put it concisely: “Characters and talents are complemental and suppletory. The world stands by balanced antagonisms.”

Read: The three equations for a happy life, even during a pandemic

That’s easier said than done, of course. Whether Epicurean or Stoic, we always want to double down on what comes naturally to us. But that is the road to excess, which ultimately leads us away from well-being. “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” goes the old proverb. In 1825, the novelist Maria Edgeworth added a second line: “All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy.” Just so.

So to all you Stoics: Take the night off. And to all you Epicureans: Time to get back to work.

https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2021/01/how-balance-hard-work-and-pleasure-happiness/617847/?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Read: Sit with your negative emotions, don’t push them away

Read: Fear can make you a better person

Read: Preparing your mind for uncertain times

Read: What good is thinking about death?

https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2021/01/how-balance-hard-work-and-pleasure-happiness/617847/?utm_source=pocket-newtab

[lemonietrinket]

I’ll Admit ||| Wonpil x Reader

Summary: "I’ll admit, I didn’t think I would ever do all of this under a bed with a cold pretzel, and yet here we are.” Genre: Fluff, humour? Warning(s): 1x Hell (mild cursing), otherwise none Word Count: 4856 Theme Song: Mixtape #1 - Stray Kids; Best Part - Day6; Stay - Ateez AN: a pushed request from @idontknowapil I have no have no short-fic ideas lately ok. I’m here to fill the apparent void of day6 stuffs :((

~~~

To be absolutely honest with yourself, you were beginning to wonder if you’d offended some ancient deity, whose only remaining power was to cause minor inconveniences for a target chosen upon whim, and that you were said victim. 

Because, truth be told, what had you done to deserve being thrown onto the sofa like a sack of potatoes?

You hadn’t intended to get in their way—you weren’t even aware they were chasing each other round the tiny halls of the flat, and you hadn’t the slightest clue as to why either. 

You’d been helping Sungjin cook dinner in the cramped kitchen, effortlessly working around one another in peace as you jammed to the music over the speaker you’d set up.  Neither of you said much, opening your mouths to merely sing the lyrics together, or ask for the flavouring to be passed from the first kitchen counter to its only companion. 

Listening to the man sing in his gritty and soulful voice never failed to settle you into tranquil, even if the words he was singing weren’t exactly what most would define as deep and meaningful.

“I see that I’m icy~”

You choked back a laugh. You would never have noted him as the type to bop to Itzy—and neither did he, usually—but every now and again he seemed to like a rousing pop song, and since it was only you there he didn’t mind letting down his reserved guard and sing along.  It didn’t stop the contrast between his vocals and the tone of the song from being stark, though, and there was something amusing about hearing a mighty voice that was designed for heart-aching alternative songs chant sunnily to a summer pop hit. Still, it allowed you to join in without feeling so out of league like you would have naturally done. 

The heavy thunk however shook the entire block no doubt, and it also stopped your little concert in the kitchen abruptly short. The two of you flicked your heads to where it had somewhat resonated from: the living room.

“What the hell...?” you murmured, your knife frozen against the chopping board.

“Those damn kids,” Sungjin tutted, quickly going back to his work at the pan, “if I get another complaint from that poor elderly lady from downstairs again I swear I’ll...”

You were going to join him in cooking again as you had done before, when a high-toned shriek emanated from the furthest hall. At the sound of it, the leader hissed grumpily into the steam of the half-prepared meal, but you couldn’t help but let your thoughts wander.

There was no plausible owner of the cry other than Wonpil, and that made you worry.  You couldn’t help it. The others may not play often, but when they did it sometimes was a little rough—and this didn’t count the occasionally relentless teasing that Jae and Younghyun could indulge in on a surprisingly regular basis. And Wonpil, bless his heart, was just as regularly the target. He was just so sweet and kind and gentle, and when he wasn’t, he was surprisingly, underhandedly sassy. These were the reasons why you’d fallen worryingly swiftly for the man and his cute habits and neediness, and it was also the reason why he was chosen as the one who got teased; his reactions were normally pretty funny.

But it also had to be said that though Wonpil could handle himself better than many would expect, there were a couple of scenarios where he couldn’t, perhaps. And going by the sudden flurry of footsteps that charged into someone’s bedroom and forced Sungjin to lean against the counter and pull the wide-eyed expression he always made whenever he was considering whipping someone into shape, you deduced this may have been one of those circumstances.

And so, you finished chopping the mushroom before you, dished it out onto the plate for the main chef to use, before throwing, “I’m just going to check everyone’s ok,” over your shoulder and heading out into the hallway. 

Peering both ways you couldn’t see a single culprit or victim, which was unnerving to say the least.

Heading towards where the original thud had originated from, you barely got to the other side of the living room when there was a flash of white and suddenly you were scooped into the air with a yelp.

A victorious laugh that was clearly Younghyun’s tapered off within seconds as you were immediately put back on your feet. “Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry I thought you were—”

“What the hell are you doing?” you exclaimed, still in shock from your sudden, albeit temporary, flight. 

The handsome smile before you became even more sheepish. “Nothing bad I promise! Have you—”

“Nothing bad?!” you echoed incredulously. “You’ve been lumping around causing an absolute ruckus! If you’ve caused any offence to the other residents up or downstairs I swear I will—”

“—seen Wonpil?”

The sound of his name sucked any threats of spite out of you. He was the reason why you’d risked life and limb by exiting the kitchen. “N-no, but why do you want him?”

Younghyun chuckled at your defensive scowl. “He stole my pretzel and I want it back.”

“I can’t believe you guys—over a pretzel?” You rolled your eyes. “Even if I had seen him I wouldn’t hand over any information, and you know that.”

The man looked mildly panicked as you began to head back towards the kitchen. “Wait, Y/N! It’s a cinnamon pretzel! You know they’re like, really damn good...!” 

You stopped in mere steps as a plan gradually began to spin in your head. You span on your heel, sending Younghyun a sweet smile. “A cinnamon pretzel you say?” 

He nodded earnestly as you slowly drew to the archway where he stood, coming to lean against the arm of the sofa nearest it. “Interesting...”

“Will you help us find him? I’ll let you have a quarter of it!” Younghyun pleaded, pulling the best puppy eyes he could.

“A whole quarter? Wow I am lucky.”

You had to bite back another laugh as you watched him panic again. 

“Because I’ve already made an offer to Dowoon and Jae to help me catch him, ok?” he explained poutily.

You pretended to think for a bit, though your mind was already made up. It was time to put your plan into action. “Fine.”

Relief washed over him as he flashed you that charming grin that made everyone’s hearts flutter. Well, perhaps everyone except you as you’d swiftly rationalsied. Your butterflies only seemed to make an appearance whenever he was around, and as if to make up for their rather useful vacancy in normal situations, they made a habit of appearing at all times when you were with him—which wasn’t as lucky, but what were you to do? Ask him out? Don’t be daft. 

“Ok, good, that’s great!” Younghun sighed, jumping straight in with an outline of his oddly detailed plan on how to smoke out Wonpil from his hiding spot and reclaim his pretzel in an elaborate trap. You weren’t listening, though, and it was rather fortunate really that he didn’t get to continue for long enough to ask you questions that you then wouldn’t be able to answer.

He was interrupted halfway through explaining he was going to head towards Wonpil and Sungjin’s room by another thunder of footsteps wracking through the apartment. A shape that you would soon identify as Jae barrelled right through, in and out of the living room like a lightning bolt, calling, “I see him!”

And unfortunately for you, the image of a sweet, pristine cinnamon pretzel had overcome his senses, and since Younghyun was in the way, he took the fastest option of bumping him out of the way. But this created a domino effect, as in an effort to recapture his balance, the younger had stumbled forward and sent you over the arm, onto the plush cushions with a startled cry.

As you lay squashed on your shoulder and your elbow slotted between the leather you couldn’t help but think about your predicament, yet also your future rewards. 

The plan you had concocted was of the same level as a secret agent’s master plan, you were sure, and you couldn’t help a devilish smirk rise to your lips as you thought it over.

It involved stealth, deceit, smarts, and a good dose of luck.

A double-cross. The ultimate spy-movie-move. And you were going to pull it off to-the-T.

Truth was, if you found Wonpil and hid with him, you were guaranteed to get half a pretzel. Maybe even more, since the man who had stolen your heart so cleanly without even realising most likely, was kind like that.

Ignoring the ebbs and flows of your heart that dictated that you would always take his side over the others’ any day anyway, it made much more sense to bluff.

Not only this, you also had a great advantage over Jae and Younghyun, and that was you knew Wonpil very well. Yes, they’d known him for longer, but you knew him on a deeper level, from all the time you’d spent with him late in the evening and in cafes in the morning and everywhere you went with him. Because you listened to what he had to say, because you cared with your whole heart.  And so it meant that this time round you were going to beat them, and win that pretzel too.

And so, you pushed yourself up—with frankly a ridiculous amount of energy required, because the sofa seemed very keen to grip your hand and pin you down—and slipped in the direction the two had come from, into your room.

As your eyes settled on your bed, there was no chance of you wiping the pride off your face.

Though Wonpil was softer than the others, that didn’t mean he didn’t still have a few tricks up his sleeve; after all, he wasn’t as ditzy as everyone always figured he was.

Your room was in fact the safest option—it was your private space, so the others rarely came in, thus they didn’t know it well at all. The wouldn’t know where to begin. Add this to their discomfort to even being in your room without your permission, let alone scouring their eyes in every nook and cranny, that had origins in your rare but mighty wrath, it all amounted to the best choice. 

On top of this, Wonpil actually did know it well. He was the only one that frequented your room, because the two of you were so close. And though you weren’t as close as you wished to be, he always came to you in the evenings, wrapping up in your blankets at your side and sprawling over your lap, your shoulders, your stomach. 

This in itself made you repeatedly rethink your wishes to finally work up the courage and ask—as what if it ruined everything? And you didn’t like to think down those lines for long, as it made your stomach churn enough emotionally to make you feel physically nauseous. 

But this was why he had an advantage by hiding in your room (as well as why you’d held your tongue for months on end). 

Banking on the fact that you two had a lot in common too, you could certainly have a good guess at where he was, since you knew where you would choose to go.

Lifting the covers that hung like curtains from the edge of your bed to the floor, you found everything in order—the drawer you kept under there still in its place. A good sign.

You made your way round to the other side of your bed.

The drawer did not fill the expanse of it, after all, and left quite a lot of space under there. And since the frame was reasonably high off the ground, this would be the prime spot to hide if you needed to.

Crouching down, you glanced up to the door left ajar as to not arouse suspicion but also maintain some privacy if your deductions were correct. No one there, and no sound of anyone approaching.  Success.

“Wonpil,” you whispered to the carpet, fingers fiddling with the embroidered lace upon the cover, “it’s Y/N. I’m coming under, yeah?”

A series of shuffles was heard while the tiniest ‘hi’ graced your ears. You slipped under the bed on your stomach, hurriedly repositioning the covers to hide your position once again.

Your arm ended up nudging into something soft that then emitted a small hum as a greeting of sorts. “Oh, Pillie, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he responded meekly, shifting his weight to further accommodate for you, “you’re not searching with them are you?”

You shook your head, coming to settle resting on your elbows. “Nope. I told Hyun that I was though.”

“Y/N L/N, world’s best double agent,” he giggled, and you couldn’t help but smile at him merely being happy. 

You couldn’t see much under the bed since a lot of the light was blocked by the drawer and overhanging bedsheets, but you could just make out the lines of his face and the corners of his beautiful smile. His dark eyes also caught the slivered beams of light that crept beneath the furthest end of the bed, appearing like distant constellations in them. He was a masterpiece, never appreciated fully as he deserved—but for those that did, they would find all his quirks as food for the soul, and as such he rendered you feeling at true peace in his company. You longed to speak out again.

You were brought out of your thoughts by the one who had caught your heart so accidentally holding a soft pretzel towards you. “Do you want it?”

You prayed he hadn’t seen your stare in the dim light. “Hm? Oh, I’ll have any part you don’t want, it’s ok.”

“Well...” he offered the packet to you more insistently by brushing your arm with the back of his hand, until you accepted it. He then rolled over onto his side, settling into the carpet. “I don’t want it, so you can have it.”

You analysed the knot of the pretzel, before frowning at him suspiciously. “You haven’t eaten any of it...? You didn’t drop it on the floor did you?”

“No!” he cried in a whisper that verged on just-a-bit-too-loud. Much as you feared, footsteps came at a slower pace down from the living room, sending the two of you into a bout of silence, hoping that they wouldn’t turn into your bedroom.

To your luck, they continued on into the studio.

You exhaled in relief as you continued with your interrogation over the lukewarm, but still very delicious cinnamon pretzel. “But, Pillie, my Wonpil loves pretzels, especially cinnamon ones! My Wonpil dared to throw a pillow at Sungjin over a cinnamon pretzel! And yet here he supposedly is, handing one over completely untouched? I say, sir, you have been outwitted—now tell me, who are you and where is the real Wonpil?”

Your tone had been humorous, perhaps overly so. You couldn’t help it though; the rush of calling him yours, even with it being uninterpretable to mean in that manner, sent electricity through to your heart and left it thumping against your ribcage. 

Wonpil meanwhile only laughed under his breath softly, his brilliant smile tapering off into a gentler, sleepier one. “I am the real Wonpil, I promise! I just want you to have it.”

“Why?” The word came out of you too fast and before you could even attempt to stop it. You cursed your neediness in your head, shying your head away as you leaned into the scent of cinnamon as a feeble attempt of a cover. 

He shrugged, though it was awkward to see at his angle. “Because you really like them and I’d rather you have it over Jae or Younghyun.”

You snorted. “What did they do this time?”

“They hid my phone!” he whined, a pout clearly on his face in the dark even if you couldn’t see it clearly, “I looked all over the place desperately for like, ten minutes, and then they laughed at me when they gave it back!”

“That’s so mean,” you agreed, “do you want e to kick their asses?”

He laughed sweetly, rolling closer. “Nah, I got the pretzel. That’ll teach them not to mess with Kim Wonpil!”

“The Almighty and All-Seeing,” you finished with a grin, taking a bite into the dough at last. Even though it was a bit cool, it still tasted phenomenal, and you hummed out of reflex and in satisfaction.

“Is it good?” Wonpil chirped, shuffling even closer. He was still merged with the shadows, but you could feel his warmth by your arm. He couldn’t stay away for long, after all.

You nodded assertively, torn between chewing quickly so you could reply and taking it slow to savour the taste. Considering the size of how much was left, you opted for the former and eventually asked, “Where did you get this from?”

“I don’t know actually. I just saw it in Younghyunnie’s bag and took it.”

You couldn’t stifle the chuckle at the image of the man’s devious behaviour, and ended up choking.

“Are you ok?” Wonpil’s voice was concerned, his hand already on your arm, gently rubbing and squeezing the skin there as he waited for you to gather your breath together.

As soon as you erupted into giggles that you attempted to smother as much as you could, he sighed.

“I’m sorry, I just imagined you in full, stereotypical robber costume with the mask and everything, running away with a pretzel and, I don’t know, it just...?” 

Wonpil seemed to not really be listening—not an entirely uncommon occurrence—and instead took the opportunity to wrap his arms around your free one and lean his head against your side.  “I’m so glad you’re ok!” he whispered.

Hearing a clang from the studio nearby you tensed up, but after a few more seconds of hearing nothing, you allowed yourself to pay full attention to Wonpil again. 

“Of course I’m ok,” you said, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“I was worried you were going to die on me, and that just wouldn’t be ideal.” Hearing you scoff a laugh at his terminology, he avidly continued, “Look, we’d have to write on your obituary that you died from choking on a cinnamon pretzel, and then you’d become a cautionary tale for kids, and that’s just not a fate anyone deserves!”  It was then as if his mouth continued without him really being aware of it.

“And if you died, Y/N, then what am I supposed to do? I would be so alone, I don’t think I would—” 

These moments happened to everyone, it was fair to say, though his reaction to his own words as he cut himself short was an enigma to say the least. It was as if he’d said to much of something he’d promised he would never say. 

And then he was quiet. In fact he was dead silent.  Not a Wonpil-thing to do to say the least.

It was good timing however. There was a creak, as another person entered the room.  You hadn’t heard the footfalls, so you weren’t able to work out who it was, until he spoke.

“Y/N?” Sungjin called.

You didn’t respond.  This wasn’t exactly good news.

The chances were the leader would try and catch one of the others and ask them of your whereabouts, if he was searching for specifically you of his own accord. Or worse, he had joined the search—unlikely, but a possibility nevertheless.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, the door creaked once more and you were able to release the air you’d been subconsciously holding. 

Glancing down, you realised you’d better get on with your pretzel. You spoke to clear the silence and anxious energy emanating from the man who was clinging to you. 

“I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you either, Pillie.” Deciding to take smaller bites but often, you began to eat and savour the taste of the stolen delicacy as best you could, while finishing what Wonpil had insinuated in his accidental words. “I don’t think I would cope at all with you gone, too.”

“Really?” 

You imagined his bright eyes wide and gleaming at you in surprise, as you wouldn’t be able to see even if you looked back. “Yeah, my life would be so empty, I think,” you bit down the nerves that began to rise as you spoke, “like a huge part of me and my life would be missing, and I never want that to happen.”

“Do you really mean that?” Wonpil’s voice was so small you could barely hear it, “You... want me here with you... forever?” 

You froze on the spot.

Was this the time?

Evidently, yes.

You let the the pretzel fall to the floor, shifting yourself so you were on your back and able to hold Wonpil’s cheeks delicately in your hands above you, as you had longed to do for months.  “Yes. Without a single doubt, Pillie. I’ve liked you for so long I haven’t been able to say it, but now I’ve... finally kicked myself up the ass and said it,” you chuckled to yourself, watching his glorious smile rise in the dark, “so, Pillie, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

He nodded desperately, coming to rest his forehead against yours.

And it was as if your heart had burst in two out of sheer joy. You could have very much burst into tears right there and then, but Wonpil was not finished. 

“Kiss me?” he requested, in a voice so delicate and sweet that it instantly mended your broken resolve.  

You closed the distance carefully, not wanting to mess up and make a fool of yourself, even though the circumstances really did prompt it. Fortune was on your side though, as your lips found his without an issue.

Threading your hands through his hair, you revelled in the tenderness of his kiss. It felt so right as your heart throbbed, his chest lowering onto yours as he sank into your touch. It was so chaste and impossibly sweet, and yet it carried the weight of the world within it—you hadn’t been the only one waiting. 

As much as you longed to remain there, your beating hearts dictated that you needed to take in air.

He moved away first, his breath tickling your skin as he giggled. “You taste like cinnamon.”

“And now so do you!” You ran your thumb across his temple, unable to contain your smile. 

Overcome with shyness, Wonpil bit his lip as he ducked his head into your neck, mumbling phrases of disbelief into your shirt. 

Stroking the soft tress of his hair you attempted to ease him into more calm. “I’ll admit,” you began, “I didn’t think I would ever do all of this under a bed with a cold pretzel, and yet here we are.”

“How did you picture it?” he enquired, voice still muffled by your neck.

“I don’t actually know...” you answered, pausing to consider what you had originally intended, if anything at all. “Maybe after the cinema? That’s the classic way, right? Wait, no... Probably one time when you come to hang out with me like you always do?”

He lifted himself up, cocking his head to one side. “Why then?”

It was your turn to get a little bashful, “Because you’d be right there in my arms, and it would be much easier than under a bed hiding from the others...”

“Well,” Wonpil reasoned, his voice nothing but a whisper, “I’m here in your arms now...”

You sighed, “I know, it took me long enough right?”

“I could have done something about it too,” he pouted, “so don’t worry about it... and instead, maybe do it again?”

There was no way you could have stifled the chuckle that bubbled from your chest, but it tapered off when your new partner leant in to kiss you again.

Nonetheless, luck is a finite resource, and so it had to run out at some point—and for you, it was at an admittedly unfortunate moment, as it was right there and then.

Light was released from its coil outside as the bedsheets were drawn back and a face appeared in its wake.

“Boom! Found y—Y/N?!” Jae’s voice was way too loud in comparison to the peace, and then it was absolutely ecstatic, “Y/N?! Are you making out with our keyboardist?!”

You were stunned by his sudden appearance as you hadn’t heard a single bit of noise to offer the idea that anyone was nearby. Then again, you were enraptured with the beautiful man before you—there was little chance of you noticing the low creak of a door.

As you floundered however, Wonpil handled the situation instead, unusually disgruntled.

“I asked her to, Jae,” he countered, sending him his best mean look which only really involved a nose scrunch, “now go away and let her continue.”

“Oop—” The eldest disappeared from sight, and darkness returned.

“Now, where were we?” Wonpil hummed, but you were reluctant.

Your inhibitions turned out to be well-calculated too, as you heard Jae, not three seconds later, yell, “Brian! Y/N and Wonpil are making out under the bed, come see!”

You rolled your eyes. “We’d better get out of here.” Confronted with Wonpil’s pout however and your grumpy tone melted. “It’s ok, we’ll continue later, I promise! Just, I have to go kick Jae’s ass real quick too, you know?”

You felt his weight shift from you as he admitted defeat. “Ok, but get him good, baby.”

You choked on air at the sudden pet-name. So many things sounded like pure perfection coming from his lips. Even so, it seemed the term ‘baby’ in reference to you did not share the same effect.

“Eh?”

“What?” he said, confused by your outburst. 

“I think you need to find another pet-name for me,” you explained as you crawled out from beneath the bed. 

“What’s wrong with baby?”

Once you were out, you extended your hand for him. Handing you the pretzel which you then discarded on your bed, he began to shimmy himself out until he could accept your offer, while you searched for a reason other than ‘slightly cringey’. “I mean... I can’t be baby, because you are baby.”

As he got to his feet, he dusted the both of you off shyly. “Am I?”

“Hell yeah you are, baby,” you finished, making your point with added flair as you raised his chin to face you.

His eyes went wide at the touch. “Y-yeah, you’re right.”

“Oh, ew.”

Your eyes rose to the voice to find Jae still standing there, though this time with Younghyun in the doorway who suddenly looked panicked. “Don’t look at me, I’m fully supportive of young love.”

Your gaze focused on Jae, then, who was smiling brightly, though it was turning more and more worried by the second.  “Thank you for reminding me about the other problem at hand,” you chirped, “You get a ten second head-start, Jae, as I’m feeling kind today.”

“It’s because of all that love in your system,” he retorted with a cackle, though he didn’t then waste much time in making a mad dash for the door, shunting Younghyun out of the way once more.

“Kick his ass, sugarplum!” Wonpil encouraged by your side, and you just about hid your wince. Younghyun merely ducked his head out of the doorway to snicker.

“Yeah, maybe not that one either, baby,” you suggested, resting your palms on his shoulders and pressing a kiss quickly to his cheek. “But I’ll make it count, don’t worry.”

He sent you that glimmering smile, this time in the light where you could see, and you stood transfixed for well over the designated head-start. 

“Come on, go!” Wonpil ushered, thriving on the drama. “Avenge me!”

And with his blessing you grabbed your pillow and tore off out of the door.

To see you so smitten was endearing, Younghyun thought. He’d been wondering how long it would take you to finally ask, and was starting to worry a bit. Clearly he shouldn’t have lost faith in you quite that easily.

He managed to avoid getting trampled by you too as you ran out of you room, leaving Wonpil to take in everything that had happened. He’d expected him to gush about it, or have a fit of giggles, but the man just sat on your bed and sighed, looking at a pretzel happily—

Wait, that was his pretzel—

“Hey, that’s—!”

“I know,” Wonpil interjected, scooping it up and offering it to him, “you want it?”

Younghyun eyed him suspiciously. “Who are you and where is Wonpil?”

The younger tutted, rolling his eyes. “I am Wonpil, and I don’t want it, so you can have it.”

Younghyun, after a few moments, stepped forward to claim his prize. Until he had an epiphany.

“Wait, it’s been on the floor, hasn’t it.”

~~~

AN: I feel like I’m gonna hate this tomorrow but oh well. here it is!

and it wasn’t supposed to be this long but oops

(also itzy’s music and lyrics are also obviously not mine—I’m not taking any chances though so, I repeat: I have no ownership of the song, lyrics, etc they all belong to JYPE ok)

Masterlist

[cowtale-utau]

What kind of eye shapes can your boys make? Hearts, stars, sparkles, etc.? And for what reason(s) would those eye shapes pop up? Go nuts. n.n

First! The most common shapes;

Standard round - the default shape for most.

Stars – a happy shape, a sign of particularly high joy levels

Hearts – love, of course.

Spirals/Xs – sick, dizzy, disoriented, these would be comical if they weren't often alarming

Empty sockets – can indicate a few things, but one can safely assume its a mark of some sort of great displeasure or discomfort

A few of the skeletons have their own signature shapes, usually only appearing under a certain circumstance, most common among the Fell's and in combat.

Second, it is way more common for the Sanses to change their eyelight shape than the Papyri. In this AU all of them have eyelights, and can change them, but Sanses just do so more often.

Third, technically they can change their eyelight shape at will, but they do so very rarely as it's quite uncomfortable and requires an annoying amount of concentration for such a minor effect.

Undertale Sans/Ace – Clever science and space jokes will get you stars. Stars also get stars. Drag him out to an open field and just watch the sky and his eyelights will shift. He still hasn't lost that sense of wonder that comes from seeing the night sky. Sleepily mumble that you want to stay in bed a little longer and you'll get soft fuzzy hearts. Soft lazy mornings with you are one of his favorite things. Doesn't really get spirals much, mostly his eyelights just dim. He exists in a perpetual state of semi exhaustion so he hardly notices a difference.

Underfell Sans/Chisel – Work with him on something mechanical to get stars. Offer ideas, hand him tools he needs, just generally be engaged in something he enjoys with him. Domesticity is how you get hearts from him. “Homey” moments together, making dinner, curling up by the fire, even just sweeping or making the bed. His biggest weakness is seeing you interact with kids. Spirals are rare, though he occasionally drinks himself into them.

Underswap Sans/Scout – Stars are almost his default, he is often excited and happy, so its a frequent sight. Hearts are pretty common when he is in a serious relationship. If you've reached s/o status you can do basically anything and they get heart eyes. Watching you work, watching you relax, seeing you content and happy is enough. He was often spotted dazed with spirals when he first started testing with explosives. It still happens but not as often.

Horrortale Sans/Tender – His eyelight has trouble shifting these days but it does it on occasion. The star shape is a bit more irregular, more of a star burst than a standard five point star. It shifts to this anytime he can get you really laughing about something. You also get a star by bringing him snacks unprompted. His heart eye is a bit blurry around the edges, but still recognizable. This shape appears most often when you work together with the animals, particularly any babies. The gentle patience and kindness gets him every time. If you find out what he and his brother went through, and what they did, and accept it, at first you'll get nothing. He doesn't really believe it. Let it settle in for a bit and the heart will appear, and they'll stick around for a bit, although it'll be hard to see through the tears. His eye doesn't spiral, but it will shift to a sharp X shape when he's dazed. This is a bad sign, and you should seek out Cook. It's a pretty accurate indicator of a coming frenzy.

Swapfell(Purple) Sans/Doc – Doc enjoys seeing you work. Not necessarily hard labor, or even something he “ordered”. Just seeing you work hard at something fills him with a sort of prideful delight. He'll try to hide it from you, but he'll have bright stars. Heart eyes will come out of seemingly no where. It'd be a moment with no special lead up, no particular event, just a quiet settled moment. Doc craves stability and security, so in a moment together when it suddenly hits him that he has that with you the heart eyes will also suddenly hit him. He won't hide this from you, and will take a bit of a haughty attitude about it. Yeah he loves you, what of it? He doesn't get spirals or X's outside of extenuating circumstance. He takes care of himself and while he works hard he does so in way that doesn't push his limits too much. If he fainted or what have you, it would undermine his authority as the gang healer. And if there's one thing Doc hates, it's having his authority called into question.

Fellswap Gold Sans/Haze – Haze is one of the harder one to get stars or hearts from. It's not something he really allows of himself. Helping oversee the household can do it. Making sure the staff is keeping things to his standards. It shows you pay enough attention to know his standards and care enough that they are kept. Hearts are a little harder, but come mostly from taking direct care of him. Things like bringing him something to eat in his study when he misses dinner. Spirals and Xs are alarmingly common, though he'll deny it even as you look right at him. Haze overworks constantly.

Underlust Sans/Shine – Like most people, he likes gifts. But shiny expensive things are shallow and meaningless. He hoards them for himself but as gifts, he isn't impressed. However if he mentions off hand that he needs something, or broke something, and you happen to get that, then he's impressed. That you took the time to listen to him, and remember, means a fair bit. The stars are a bit faint, and waver a little, tentative you'd say, but they're there. Similarly if you take care of tasks he mentions needing doing. As for hearts, those take a lot of time and patience. Find ways to show you love him for more than just his physical self. Put up with his mood swings. Toss sass back at him. Prove yourself dependable and it'll eventually happen. Probably in the middle of a one-sided argument. He doesn't really get spirals much anymore. He used to, but he's a seasoned drinker at this point, and is used to running on minimal rest.

Dancetale Sans/Shuffle – Dance with him! Even if you're not very good, if you put in an effort, and have fun with it, you'll get the star eyes. You might also get a glimpse of them if you go biking with him. Pack a picnic and find a pretty meadow to increase your chances. Slow, romantic dances is how you get hearts. He occasionally works himself to spirals but it's fairly rare. He knows his limits pretty well.

Here's the first batch. I'll keep chipping away at these and hopefully have more in a day or two. I know things have slowed down a little the past couple days. I'm trying to get some energy back. Thank you for being patient with me. Love y'all.

[melacka]

Hey @crisblcklst​! I tried to answer your ask and then experienced a whole range of rather frustrating technical issues. Isn’t tumblr fun?!?!

Anyway...

You asked for Lizzington and NAP for the i love you prompts.

‘i love you’ prompts

Thanks for the prompt! It took me a while but I got there! I have written you a Season 3A, on the run, bed sharing, accidental date night fic. Also, it is way longer than I planned. Hope you enjoy!

You can read it here on AO3 or keep reading below.

Title: Date Night by Melacka

Summary: “Who would’ve thought that one thing that would come  out of this whole thing would be an evening spent on the couch eating  Chinese food and watching Casablanca.” Liz laughed and scooped some  noodles into her mouth. “Next thing you’re going to tell me we’re going  dancing.”

Liz and Red share an accidental date night while on the run.

They’d shared a bed a few times since they’d been on the run. The necessity of it made it easier for her to deal with. She could compartmentalise this fairly easily. It was absolutely necessary that she share a bed with him and therefore she would make it no more difficult than it absolutely had to be. They were closer now than she ever thought they could be, he had allowed her to see parts of him that he had kept so carefully hidden before. Another necessity most likely requiring compartmentalisation on his part. She knew that there were probably lots of secrets that she was not yet privy to. She knew, too, that she might never really know the whole truth about him and his history with her. She tried to make herself be okay with that, but it was a constant battle.

She suspected that he was uncomfortable being this close to her all the time, but she didn’t know if it was the same discomfort that he would feel with anyone or if it was specific to her. She tried to take her cue from him, tried to make things easier for him, but he was always so good at hiding what he was thinking that most of the time she had to rely on her own instincts. It bothered her because her instincts had become alarmingly unreliable recently. She didn’t have the time these days to indulge her self-doubt too often, so she was just doing the best she could. She watched him closely for any signs of discomfort or unease and tried to adjust her behaviour accordingly. She was so completely dependent on him right then and she couldn’t afford to jeopardise the fragile peace they’d achieved in the midst of all the chaos.

When he told her that they would have to share a bed for the first time, she could tell that he was worried about her reaction. She made a point of smiling reassuringly at him and tried to keep her instinctive panic from showing in her eyes. She hadn’t shared a bed with anyone other than Tom in years and she’d recently become so used to sleeping alone again. Her sleep was often disturbed by nightmares that she struggled to wake up from and she worried about Red seeing that. She didn’t even want to think about what secrets she might reveal just by sleeping beside him.

That first time had been difficult. Apart from that one night in the shipping container that they never spoke about, she’d rarely even been in the same room as him while sleeping, let alone the same bed. They were both almost ridiculously considerate of each other, respecting the other’s space and maintaining as much distance as possible in the small bed. Liz went to bed first and, by unspoken agreement, Red waited long enough for her to get settled and have a chance at falling asleep before he joined her. She was still awake when he quietly entered the room nearly an hour later, but she kept her face turned away and her breathing as deep and even as she could manage. She doubted that it fooled him, but the fiction was as much for her benefit as it was for him, so she’d kept it up until she’d actually fallen asleep. She’d felt a strange comfort in having him beside her, the warmth of his body and the rhythmic sounds of his breathing made her feel almost like she was home again.

The second time they shared a bed was better. Easier. Red was more matter of fact and there was less of an air of apology in his face and voice when he told her. She reacted better as well, she had been more prepared for the possibility and slightly more comfortable with the idea. She still feigned sleep when he came to bed and wore a lot more clothes than she’d normally bother with but told herself that it was only for security reasons. She figured that the few extra seconds it would take to put on her pants could be crucial in their escape, should it suddenly become necessary. Besides, Red slept practically fully clothed as well.

The third time they shared a bed, it wasn’t because they had to.

Red had been required to go out to meet a contact and he had encouraged her to stay at the safe house. Liz couldn’t figure out if it was because he was worried about her being seen out in public or because he just needed to have some time away from her. Either way, she’d been perfectly willing to go along with it. They’d been on the move almost constantly for the last three weeks, and she was happy to have a quiet night in. Relatively speaking, of course.

Two hours after he left, she felt like she was going out of her mind. She’d become so accustomed to Red’s presence that she felt jumpy and on edge with him gone. She checked and rechecked all the locks on the windows and doors and kept her gun close by her side. She tried to watch TV but found the noise distracting rather than soothing and so switched to reading a book. Every safe house they stayed in at least some books in it and she’d read more in the last few weeks than she’d managed to in the last three years. Her job and all its resultant distractions and dramas had kept her from some of the simpler pleasures she used to enjoy.

Just as she was headed to the kitchen to fetch a glass of wine, she heard the front door open quietly. She moved quickly to the dark hall and silently extracted her gun from her jeans. She stood, tense and ready, waiting for whoever it was to move into the light. Liz slowed her breathing with an effort and forced herself to calm down. It was probably just Red, but one thing she’d learned on the run was not to trust probabilities. And if it wasn’t Red, she’d need a clear head to extract herself from the situation.

“Lizzy?” Red called out. “Where are you?”

She let out a breath, relieved more than she cared to admit that he was back.

“Hey,” she said quietly, stepping out of the hallway and into the light.

Red raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the gun in her hands. She slipped it back into the back of her jeans and smiled.

“Can’t be too careful.”

“Very true,” he agreed, moving quickly to the kitchen. “I’m just glad that your abundance of caution didn’t lead to any unfortunate accidents. Bullet wounds can be terribly awkward to explain away, you know.”

Liz stared after him, open-mouthed, unable to find anything to say in response to that.

“Are you hungry? I’ve brought you some food.”

She trailed after him curiously, peering into the plastic bag as he got out plates and cutlery.

“What is it?”

“Chinese food, Lizzy,” he said quietly. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself and as much as I dislike the idea of encouraging bad habits—”

“Since when?” she scoffed.

“Bad eating habits,” he continued smoothly. “I want you to eat something tonight, and Chinese food seemed like the safest option.”

Liz grinned and hopped up on the counter, extracting one of the containers of food and opening it eagerly. Red took it from her with a disapproving frown, closing it quickly as Liz scowled at him.

“Hey!” she protested. “I wanted that!”

She tried to grab it but he held it teasingly out of reach.

“Now, now, Lizzy,” he chided. “Do be civilised. How about you go and select a movie for us to watch and I will prepare the food?”

“You want to watch a movie?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind?”

“No! Of course, I don’t mind,” Liz said quickly, not quite able to cover her disbelief. “And you want me to choose it?”

“Well, I chose the food, it seems only fair.”

He shooed her out of the kitchen, and she left without complaint. When he joined her a few minutes later, she was just sliding the DVD into the player.

“Tell me the truth,” she said, sitting on the couch and picking up the remote. “Did you let me choose the movie because you knew that all the movies here are ones you would want to watch?”

“Really, Lizzy, this suspicious nature of yours—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just give me my food, okay?”

He handed her a plate and she pressed play on the remote. He smiled at her and she grinned back.

“Who would’ve thought, huh?”

“Who would’ve thought, what?” he asked curiously.

“Who would’ve thought that one thing that would come out of this whole thing would be an evening spent on the couch eating Chinese food and watching Casablanca.” Liz laughed and scooped some noodles into her mouth. “Next thing you’re going to tell me we’re going dancing.”

“Dancing, Lizzy?”

“To really make it a proper date night,” she said teasingly. “Dinner, a movie, and dancing.”

“I’ll take you dancing any time you want to, Lizzy,” Red replied softly. “Just say the word.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She looked down at herself and shrugged. “You should probably give me more warning, next time. I can make myself look more presentable if we’re going dancing.”

“Nonsense,” he said gallantly. “You look beautiful.”

Liz blushed and looked down.

“You’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for me?”

“Why would I feel sorry for you?”

“You’re kidding, right?” she said incredulously.

Red shrugged and kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke.

“You made a choice, Lizzy, and you’re living with the consequences of that choice. Do I wish you hadn’t been put in the position where you felt the need to make that choice? Of course. Do I feel sorry for you? Absolutely not.”

Liz watched him in silence, chewing thoughtfully on her food.

“Besides,” he said in a lighter tone, “do you know how many women would kill to be in the position you’re in right now?”

Liz choked slightly and then burst out laughing.

“I’m going to ignore that appalling choice of words, Red, and instead focus on the message behind them.”

“Very wise,” Red agreed solemnly, settling back on the sofa and balancing his plate on his knees. “And what message have you chosen to see in my words today?”

“Today, I choose to believe that you have my best interests at heart and that I should be grateful for the opportunity to have a quiet night in with you. How’s that?”

“Very near perfect, Lizzy.”

She nodded her satisfaction and leaned back on the sofa next to him, allowing her body to brush up gently against his. It was practically a real date night, after all. No reason to maintain strict distance between them. He casually draped an arm along the back of the sofa, and she took the hint, settling herself into his side with a sigh.

“Lizzy.”

“Hmm?” she said sleepily.

“Lizzy, it’s time for bed, sweetheart.”

Liz mumbled something incoherent and drifted off to sleep again.

“Lizzy, come on.”

“Red?”

“Yes, I’m going to take you to bed, okay?”

Liz grinned, her eyes still closed, and said, “Like a real date night.”

“Come on, now,” Red said quietly, ignoring her comment. “Stand up.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Lizzy,” he sighed. “Please.”

She finally opened her eyes and realised that she was cuddled into Red’s side, her face mere inches from his. She lurched back in surprise.

“Oh!” she cried. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright, Lizzy,” Red reassured her with a gentle sigh. “Let me take you to bed.”

She stood up shakily and smoothed down her hair, noticing that the movie had ended.

“How long was I asleep?”

“About an hour.” Red stood up and stretched his arms quickly. “I thought it was better to let you sleep.”

“Thanks,” she said, still feeling embarrassed.

“I’m just going to tidy up in here,” Red continued briskly, piling up their plates and glasses on the table. “Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll just do a quick security check and then go to bed myself.”

Liz nodded and wandered off to the bathroom. She washed her face quickly and brushed her teeth. She could hear Red in the kitchen and was just about to go and offer to help him when he knocked gently at the bathroom door.

“Lizzy?”

She opened the door and smiled at him, absurdly shy all of a sudden.

“I’m going to do a sweep of the house. Can you make sure you check the locks on the windows in your bedroom?”

“Of course.”

He nodded and walked away. Liz sighed and wandered into her bedroom. She quickly changed clothes and checked the windows were still securely locked. Then, hesitating slightly, she opened the door to her room. She was hoping that Red would come by to check on her once more before turning in.

She sat on the bed and started to brush her hair, the slow, rhythmic strokes calming her agitation. After a few minutes, Red knocked on the doorframe and peered inside.

“All secure,” he reassured her.

She nodded and put the brush down. She looked at him with a smile and patted the bed next to her. He hesitated for a moment and then entered the room, taking the space next to her. She reached out and grasped his hand, holding it tight in her own.

“Lizzy? Did you need something?”

“Red,” she whispered, not quite knowing what had come over her. “You said you were going to take me to bed.”

“Lizzy,” he said, a warning clear in his voice.

“You don’t lie to me, Red,” she continued, unperturbed. “Take me to bed.”

“Lizzy, please, don’t—”

She turned his face towards hers and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back and searched his face, looking for any indication that he didn’t want her to continue. He looked at her seriously but didn’t try to stop her when she leaned forward again. This time, she kissed him for longer. His lips parted and she moaned in relief. He allowed the kiss to continue for a few more moments before he pulled away again, his breathing heavy and his eyes wild.

“Lizzy,” he gasped. “I will not take advantage of you like this.”

She smiled and shook her head. She trailed a hand down his shoulder, exploring his arm with interest.

“Red, how would it be taking advantage of me? I’m the one who started this.”

“Things happen when you’re on the run, Lizzy, things you might think the better of later.” He grasped both her hands in his, preventing them from wandering any further over his body. She pouted at him playfully. “I won’t be something you regret, Elizabeth.”

Liz froze, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“Oh.” She looked down at their joined hands and bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Red said. “But now isn’t the time for this to happen.” He released her hands and cupped her face gently, encouraging her to look at him. “When this is all over—”

He left the sentence unfinished and she felt a small hope kindle in her chest.

“When this is over?” she prompted.

“If you still want—” he trailed off, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“If I still want you, you mean?”

“When you’ve had time to think it through, think about what you really want.”

“And if I tell you then that what I really want is you,” Liz said shrewdly. “Will you believe me?”

Red smiled at her, but it was a pained smile.

“You should go to sleep, Lizzy. We’ll have to move on in the morning.”

“Will you believe me?” Liz searched his face desperately, not willing to let this go just yet.

Red sighed and nodded slightly.

“I’ll try.”

Liz leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I guess that’ll have to do,” she said sadly. “For now, at least.”

Red chuckled and stood up.

“Good night, Lizzy.”

“Red?” she said quietly, almost timidly. “Will you stay here with me?”

He considered her in silence for a long moment, seeming to wage a furious battle within himself while she waited. Hopeful. Eventually, he nodded.

“Get in bed, Lizzy,” he said quietly.

She flung the blankets back and lay down, still looking at him apprehensively, like she expected him to change his mind. He tucked the blankets around her securely and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Oh, Lizzy,” he breathed against her lips. “What you do to me.”

He switched off the light and then slid quickly into bed beside her, not removing any clothing. Liz smiled in the dark as he lined his body up beside hers, spooning her carefully, his hand resting gently against her stomach.

“Don’t leave me, Red,” Liz whispered once they were settled. “Don’t ever leave me.”

Red pressed a kiss to the back of her head.

“Don’t worry, Lizzy,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[regrettablewritings]

How You Met AU: Steve Harrington

Lifted from this ship meme

Dustin was a good kid. Sure, sometimes he let a dirty word slip. And maybe on occasion he stayed out too long at Mike Wheeler’s house for a session of whatever game those kids were into. But as a whole, most parents would give an arm, a leg, and an eyeball to have a kid like him!

These were the thoughts Steve Harrington repeated to himself over and over again as he sat outside of the drama teacher’s classroom. Well, that, and also some not so pleasant gripes about the seating options. Apparently, Hawkins Middle had no adult-sized chairs to spare, as evidenced by the only offers being small, plastic, navy blue chairs that obviously had been swiped from some classroom elsewhere. If he could, Steve would’ve opted to just stand and wait. Unfortunately, the sensibility of his sensible shoes had worn away, leaving behind a pain in his soles that threatened to fuck him up if he dared to stand any longer than what was necessary. But then again, it did have more dignity to it; there was something a bit humiliating about struggling to fit one adult-sized butt cheek into the dip of the little stool. 

“Couldn’t bring out some goddamn . . .” he muttered, just barely avoiding kneeing himself in the chin. There was just way too much multitasking going on for his liking: Sitting in this damn chair, trying not to hurt himself while also trying not to panic at the fact that he’d been called in by his son’s teacher.

Dustin had existed for years without coming home with a teacher’s note requesting a meeting. But then, Dustin had also existed for years as a child in a two-parent household. And during all that time, he hadn’t acted out or anything . . . But things were different now. The signs were all there and even though Steve had made himself open to conversation, he simply trusted Dustin to come to him when he was ready. Unfortunately, the teacher’s note came first and that was all Steve needed to be on the cusp of panic that his son was suffering far more than he knew and he had, by default, failed at being a good parent on his own. Cue Steve rapidly relaying the aforementioned declarations to himself once more with double the aggression. It had been both a godsend and a gut-squeezer when the sound of the office door clicking open disrupted his umpteenth run of the mantra. The voice came first.

“Sorry for the wait,” it flowed out. It was sweet, almost melodious, yet seemed to contain a sort of power laying just beneath the surface, giving every syllable a hint of strength. Just what one ought to expect from somebody whose career surrounded conquering the stage.

But what Steve hadn’t expected was the form to whom the voice belonged. The door creaked as it was opened further, followed by the soft tap of a heeled foot stepping forward outside of the threshold.

“But thank you so much for doing so patiently.” A pair of perfectly colored lips smiled at him. And suddenly, for the first time since he’d gotten the letter three days ago, Steve’s rapid heartbeat couldn’t be chalked up to anxiety.

++++++++++

Well, you thought, observing the man before you. At least now I know where Dustin got his hair from. Was it weird to be taking in the father of one of your students? Probably. Maybe. Yes. But you tried to ease off the weirdness by reminding yourself that you’d never actually met the man before. You were simply taking in the features was all. As a teacher for an elective class (and a new one at that), Mr. Harrington had been under no obligation to meet you during open house. Furthermore, you were essentially an outsider to the Hawkins educational circuit: After years of performances at theater companies in a couple of states, you thought it might be time to quiet down in a quiet town which you could proceed to introduce some theatrical zest to. And while Hawkins was definitely a place in need of such vigor, there still was apparently a bit of a culture clash even on your end (well, besides the dramatic shift from city life to whatever the heck this hamlet could be considered).

Specifically, how so many of the people here grew up here and therefore knew one another. Especially when it concerned Steve Harrington. Apparently back in high school, he was The Man™ and had since been established as somewhat of a small-town legend of sorts as a result. And while the man before you wasn’t necessarily the maverick the women around the water cooler had had you envisioning, you had to admit: He certainly was nice to look at. Especially for a dad. Most fathers you’d met during your short time here were schlubby or indifferent at best. But Mr. Harrington held a sort of boyish handsomeness to him, as though time had only done him justice rather than the expected harm. And considering that you’d worked alongside some pretty handsome people during your stint as an actress, that was saying something.

You offered your hand out to him.

“Hi, I’m Dustin’s drama instructor, Ms. (L/N),” you grinned. It required your skills in acting to avoid acting like the giddy schoolgirl you felt yourself threatening to revert to. It was a façade that nearly cracked when the man, grunting as he stood himself to his full, lanky height, accepted it into his own with a firm handshake.

For a former basketball player, his hands were surprisingly soft.

++++++++

Well, Steve thought, following you into your office. They didn’t make teachers like that when I was growing up. Or maybe they did, just not in Hawkins. Frankly, you didn’t look like you belonged in the sleepy town: You could’ve been a star with a face and voice like that. And with a body like that . . . an invasive thought commented, forcing his eyes to watch the sway of your hips as you rounded yourself about your desk.

Oh, shut up, you creep, the more logical part of his mind scolded. We’re not here to gawk, we’re here to find out what the heck the kid did.

“Once again, thanks for agreeing to meet with me,” you said, taking your own seat opposite to him. (Steve couldn’t fathom how somebody could actually make the process of sitting down look graceful but you did it.) “I understand that it was a bit last minute, so trust me when I say that it’s greatly appreciated.”

“Oh, no, it was no trouble at all,” Steve found himself insisting. He threw in a smile for good measure, though deep down he knew it was for more than just that. He almost wanted to kick his own ass for it. This was no time to harken back to his playboy days – he had a kid now, and that whom this meeting was about. His poor, sweet kid of whom probably drove this poor woman to drink from a desk flask; this was no time to be focusing on such foolishness as making his availability shamelessly known.

“Well, Mr. Harrington, I’ll just cut to the chase,” you sighed. The puff of air, gentle as it may have been, was more than enough to cause Steve’s own breathing to still.

Oh, god, he grieved, this is it. The moment of truth, wherein Steve would have to confront the fact that he’d fucked up as a father and now his kid was paying the price.

You went on, “You see, Dustin’s –"

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurted. For all the acting you had been doing up to that point that evening, even you couldn’t stop yourself from hiding the confusion that interruption had caused. Your rapid blinking went unnoticed by the man before you, however, as evidence by the fact that you’d made an effort to speak further only to be cut off once more.

“I get it if it means nothing, like if it doesn’t fix any of this but I just – ” It all came tumbling down from the inside out. It started as that all too familiar ball of anxiety that dwelled within the man’s stomach, trembling upward into his lungs. It didn’t take long at all before it manifested on his face as an expression of regret and disappointment – all directed at himself. His eyes scrunched closed. All you could do was sit there quietly, watching as he squeezed the bridge of his nose in a failing effort to alleviate the discomfort.

“Dustin,” Steve sighed finally, “he’s a good kid, I swear. But I get it if he hasn’t been acting right lately; that’s my fault. I know I should be more attentive to him but just . . . You know how kids are, they never wanna talk to you even when you wanna talk to them but it’s just all so hard – ” His eyes flew open, revealing hazel hues encased with worry. He opened his hand in defeat, shaking it for emphasis.

“But it’s just like? You don’t wanna force them or anything because shit’s – I mean, stuff is tough. I feel like he hasn’t been the same since – ” He waved a hand in random directions “—since that. But it’s also like he’s hiding things from me. A kid needs his mother but she’s not around anymore so it’s all I can do to at least try to take on that role in some way, I guess. And I’m trying to be a good parent in all this but . . . But it’s hard. Really hard. I’m on my own, nobody taught me how to do this, let alone on my own all of a sudden so it’s like I’m relearning everything from scratch and I’m trying to get our crap together but – And I feel like . . . Like I’m failing him.” He paused, uncertain of where the newly budded feeling of horror within him was sourcing from: That he was really vomiting his emotions out in such a way-too-informative manner, or that he could swear his eyes were beginning to sting with the threat of tears.

Being that the courses you taught were electives (and therefore had little bearing on a student’s report card in most regards), most parents who’d visited you in your brief time at Hawkins Middle didn’t care enough to shed any tears. If there was ever a problem that needed addressing, the typical response from the parents was to get on your case or passive aggressively suggest that perhaps you weren’t cut out for teaching or that theater wasn’t even that important to begin with. It certainly stung and made you feel discomfort on your own part, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t prepared to handle or at least hadn’t experienced in some way, shape, or form before during your professional stint. But honestly, you’d never considered the possibility that one parent would cry. Much less that it would not only be a father, but the legendary Steve Harrington on top of it. And dispensing such information, no less!

Even in all your confusion, you felt deep for the man. And as the realization of the depth of his words settled in, so did a weight inside of you. And yet, in all your uncertainty, you couldn’t think of anything more to offer than, “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington. I didn’t know . . .” You awkwardly ushered a small box of tissues towards him. While Steve did accept it, he didn’t make use of it. In fact, he seemed to be making an effort of sorts to do damage control. Of course, there’s only so much controlling that can be done when one dispenses so much baggage in such a scenario.

“No, no,” he sniffed insistently, “it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known, it’s not your job to.” You bit your lip. You wondered if it was appropriate to state that, to an extent, it was. At the very least, if you wanted to be aware of a certain child’s well-being but . . .

Steve cleared his throat, his expression becoming manageable once more. “But whatever it was that he did, I’ll be sure to have a talk with him when I get home.” It’s been long enough, he inwardly sighed with defeat. Painful to acknowledge but necessary.

“Well, actually . . .” You pressed the tips of your fingers together, awkwardly trying to pull the nearly one-sided conversation down a more comprehensible and survivable path.

“I’ve had a chance to see that for myself: Dustin is a good kid.”

Wait . . . What? At the sound of that statement, Steve perked with interest and his own brand of confusion. More specifically one that dared to be hopeful.

“In fact,” you went on, happy to notice the subtle change, “he’s more than just good; he’s a wonderful student. That’s actually why I called you in today.”

Brown brows furrowed over widening hazel eyes.

“I . . . What?” he questioned dully. You offered him a small smile and nodded.

“I’ll be honest, sir, I haven’t been teaching for very long at all. But I’ve been in the theater business long enough to know a true performer when I see and hear one.”

Steve only nodded. It was all he could do, really. He couldn’t find the words, let alone finish piecing thought after thought with ever word you delivered.

“Soooo . . .” you said in a sing-song voice (one that, in spite of his current state, Steve could still compute as lovely and sweet). “I was wondering if it would be appropriate to possibly discuss taking it a step further.” At this point, Steve’s thoughtful state broke with the fluttering of his lashed.

“Pardon?” he asked. “ ‘A step further’ how? Exactly?”

You pursed your lips. “Well,” you lowered your hand to a desk drawer and retrieved a slip of paper. “I thought that perhaps this may be a start. At the very least, it’s something to consider.” Steve accepted it, quick to notice a very familiar image in the header: Two masks, one smiling and one frowning.

“I’ve recently gotten involved with the Hawkins Playhouse,” you explained, allowing Steve the time to read over the information. In grainy but still relatively comprehensible images, he could make out people in whimsical costumes posing and grinning at the camera. Below them, in slightly bulky font, were the words, “Fun! Expressive! Cultured!”

“Normally, kid parts wind up being played by adults because we can’t get enough children interested or involved, let alone dedicated enough to actually stick to it. But Dustin?” You flashed Steve Harrington a grin. “I’ve seen that character of his; I can’t help but feel like it’s a bit too big for just a classroom elective. I’ve seen people like that. They have the potential to go far, if I do say so myself!”

“Hm,” Steve hummed, bringing his eyes back up to you. At the sight of your smile, he couldn’t help but force his eyes back down to the sheet before him. He also may have attempted to lift it closer to his face to hide the blush he feared was beginning to develop. “S-so you’re saying that Dustin . . . might have a chance at this?” That dare to hope had grown, becoming all the more evident in his voice. It made a warmth begin to dwell inside of you, a complete contrast from the mood just moments before.

You nodded. “Pretty much. Of course, it’s all up to Dustin and yourself. And he would still need to audition for shows. But I just wanted to bring this to your attention, if just for thought. Your son has a lot of potential, Mr. Harrington.” You heard a slight huff from behind the paper; maybe one accompanied by a smile, but who knew?

“You should be proud.”

Unfortunately, you weren’t entirely certain if he was or if he wasn’t. Not with that paper still in the way. It was in that break of silence that you observed the man’s trembling ever so slightly.

Uh-oh. Your smile faltered. While the slight breakdown from earlier had been unexpected, you had certainly been prepared for what you assumed was about to happen. The abundance of parents (especially dads) who were against their sons becoming more and more involved in the theater world was near endless. You’d seen far too many disgruntled and intolerant assholes criticize their sons, calling them absolutely horrid names. Sure, Steve Harrington did something most of them would not do (that is, cry and basically vomit up his anxieties), but you of all people knew by now: Tolerance had the weirdest limitations. If one thing was fine to one person, there was no for certain guarantee that something possibly linked was just as acceptable.

You had wanted to believe that maybe Steve would be different, that he would actually be excited to hear that his child was thriving. It certainly beat the alternative that he’d worried about before. But as the silence went on, the more that hope of yours dwindled. After what had felt like an eternity of awkwardness, you couldn’t take any more of it. You just wanted him out of your office if he was going to be like this.

“Mr. Harrington,” you said. Your voice no longer carried the honeyed tones from before. “Are you alright?”

“Mm,” came the hum once more. But this time, you could actually see the face being made as it was produced. The paper lowered to reveal Steve’s face, slightly unfocused but completely awash with something that made the tenseness almost immediately evaporate: Relief.

“I am,” he said quietly, eyes still trained on the piece of paper he held. He nodded. “I am. It’s just . . . Wow.” For the first time since he’d even sat down, he slumped against the chair. His spine was grateful for the relief, but not nearly so much as his nerves were.

“Wow,” he whispered once more. “This . . . This is incredible.” As he delivered that proclamation, you heard a hint of a giggle. “No, really, you don’t get how much this means to me.” In his growing joy, Steve forgot his nerves for a second, allowing his eyes to flicker up back to your face.

“My kid . . . My kid is thriving? Like, he’s not screwing around or anything?” he questioned.

You bit your lip. Perhaps in an attempt to keep from laughing, but you managed to disguise it well enough to pass off as a habit of thought.

“Well, I can’t say if that’s the case with his other classes,” you admitted. “But considering that I’ve never heard anything around the water cooler about Dustin, I’d say that your child’s doing just fine, all things considered.”

A sigh rippled from the smile that was beginning to ease onto Steve’s lips. “Oh, thank God,” he said. He poised his hands apart, gently shaking them as if trying to grab for the right words. “It’s just great to see him thriving. It’s the best thing I could ask for, really. I feel like I should be thanking you, actually.”

At that, it was your turn to feel blush threaten your face. You tensed, waving your hands as if to ward off the suggestion. “Oh, nonononono! It’s no trouble at all, seriously! Dustin is a delight in class and I’m just so used to seeing people waste their potential – I just thought I could do my part and see if that could be avoided in his case.” All the while, Steve nodded. Had this been last week, he would’ve been in too much of a funk to have progressed any further. It wouldn’t be true to call it a complete opposition to how he had been when he was a teenager, but it certainly wouldn’t be much of an exaggeration either.

But in this moment, right now? He was invigorated. He was like a hot rod with a fresh coat of paint and a new engine. It had felt like an eternity since he’d experienced good news but tonight, he felt like he’d hit a triple whammy: He wasn’t failing as a father, Dustin was doing okay, and, most uplifting of all, Dustin had a shot at something that made him happy. It was too much; it needed to be expressed in the most Steve Harrington-way possible.

“Maybe . . . Buuuuttt . . . I think this still calls for a celebration of sorts.” He flashed you a smirk that had had many years of practice and perfecting, a grin that had been his moneymaker back in high school. And judging by your body language, it still worked.

“I . . .” You stammered. You had to be honest with yourself: While you’d seen many a handsome smile, what with all the actors you’d run into, they had nothing on Steve’s smile. “I wouldn’t say a ‘celebration,’” you said, averting your eyes. But only for a moment. When you returned them to him, they had been renewed with confidence. “But maybe perhaps to discuss looking into the Hawkins Playhouse? A piece of paper can only explain so much, and I’m sure Dustin would like to be in on it as soon as possible.”

“Oh, most definitely,” Steve agreed, that smile and steadied stare never wavering once. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“Indeed, it does,” you said through a smile that threatened to wobble into a pile of goo. You could feel your heart throbbing, but not quite in the same way as it did whenever you got nervous before a performance. That was because you couldn’t act anymore; you were most certainly reverting back to the schoolgirl who freaked out after catching the eye of the school’s heartthrob.

You no longer had any doubts in your mind that Steve Harrington was The Man™ that your peers had talked about.

[misterrightscenarios]

painted blind; part i

a five part series | royal court au | graphics credit: @ccarats​ characters lee jihoon, chwe hansol genre fluff, young adult angst word count 2k synopsis a study in how some times cupid’s aim is as bad as it gets. or maybe it’s his timing? no, no. cupid definitely knows what he’s doing.

there was an air of nostalgia as the sea-side landscape passed by in a blur—days spent walking by the shore, how you counted your steps on the gritty sand, ignoring the way the air would nip at your bare feet. nights spent sneaking down to the kitchens for a late night snack, watching from the small north-facing window as the waves crashed against the low barricade wall of the castle you'd once called home.

it had been five years, and your parents had decided an education outside the small kingdom village would suit you best, only planning to put you in the important inner-circles of the court once you had returned.

you had learned that there was more to the world than seaside farming and the little market that you frequented on the weekends with your mother. you had learned of politics, of how cruel others could become when they wanted something—of how willing people were to be your friend when they found out your father was a respected general in the kingdom.

it had taken you a long time to learn how to cope with such things on your own, and so it felt strange to be coming home, a place where you'd once been so small, and where you would have to act like you had matured in your time away.

vaguely, you wondered if you really had at all.

the car had begun to slow down and you dared to peek outside again; you pulse sped at the sight of the castle.

the bridge to the courtyard was busy as always, and the progression was slow. it gave you enough time to glance out your window and take in the sea, to watch the way the waves curled and waned against the sand and disappeared into foam. it felt like an eternity since the last time you’d visited those very same shores. you vaguely recalled how you had listened to the waves, and had tried not to let too many tears stain your best friend’s casual robes.

alas, memories could only be recalled so far. past the crowds and once at the steps of the palace, you were greeted by a flurry of servants and important people whose faces you couldn’t quite recall, but that required your polite smiles and small bows.

a frantic greeting by your mother followed, who informed you that your father was—as usual—too busy, but that he sent his love. you didn’t have to fight too hard to keep the grimace off your face, and you thought settling in may not be so bad after all.

you were shown to your living quarters, and hounded by your mother about your health, your expectations, and the many meetings already in your schedule if you had a hope of making it in court.

it was hard not to be overwhelmed—suddenly, you missed the freedom of the outside world, regardless of the discomforts it had brought on. at least then you’d had a sense of freedom that you weren’t sure you’d ever taste within the kingdom’s walls again.

a brief lunch and fitting later, you were able to escape from the watchful eye of your mother, dismissing yourself with the excuse of needing to remember what the castle looked like.

walking through the paths that had watched you grow, seen the way you had cried and laughed, was the most nostalgic experience by far. you felt out of place, like you were borrowing a stranger’s life.

you were only halfway through the east wing when you heard the running, and then the tell-tale signs of heels clicking to a stop on the marble ground.

"so it’s true. the prodigy has returned," a teasing voice called from down the hall.

you had paused mid step, taking your time to glance back with furrowed brows.

it was only when your eyes had found the source of the jab face to face did it finally click who was addressing you so informally.

he looked older now, the last of the baby fat he’d once had had fallen from his cheeks. although his height hadn't changed drastically, he looked more mature with the sharp cheekbones and well-fitting suit on his frame. his smile was still a little crooked, and his eyes still held a little bit of mischief in them, one of your favorite quirks about him.

your responding smile (and the small flutter of your heart) couldn't be helped. "so i have," you acceded, nodding your head in a polite gesture, but you were sure the twinkle in jihoon's eyes was reflected in yours. "have you managed to take over the kingdom yet?"

the dark haired man chuckled dryly as he approached you, a confidence in his lithe steps you didn't think had been there before, if your memory had served you right. "not quite, but i'm sure i'll get there." he tucked his hands in the pockets of his black slacks, advancing until he was a few steps away from you.

the close proximity made your breath hitch. jihoon had always been that quietly popular boy, always witty and cute, with girls around the village murmuring amongst themselves when he walked by. you could only imagine what kind of conversations he caused now that he looked even more handsome than the boy you remembered, with the slicked back hair and broader shoulders, a sageness lurking behind his boyish, crooked smile.

"when did you return?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"just last night. i was taking a moment to re-familiarise myself with the grounds," you admitted, glancing over your shoulder to your intended destination: the kitchens.

jihoon's knowing smirk made you bite back a smile. "that hasn't changed, has it?"

"not unless the food here has," your answer was shameless, but it had jihoon laughing again.

there was another stretch of silence, wherein your gaze returned to study the boy you'd once considered a good friend, and maybe someone you had hidden one too many feelings for.

addressing the idea that the feelings had maybe never really gone away would have to happen at a later time.

jihoon seemed stumped for conversation, and it felt almost familiar again, to see him floundering for words.

"what have you been doing at the court?" you asked.

jihoon hummed, brows raising as he blinked into attention again. "oh. um, training. the princess has begun her preparations to ascend to the throne, and there's a chance for me to be her advisor." his words were stalled, as if he were hesitating divulging this particular piece of information.

you nodded slowly, "ah, so we are close to taking over the kingdom." you chose to tease, glad when the tension drained from his shoulders and the his lips twitched in amusement.

"yeah, something like that."

you were about to question his abilities, wondering if the always musically-inclined lee jihoon would really give his only joy up for court work, but instead you were interrupted by an unfamiliar male running down the hall. "jihoon! we have to go, man, we're dead if we're late again."

the newcomer was tall as he was handsome. he had tanned skin and caramel locks you knew had to be dyed, a strange thing in this kingdom.

when your eyes made their way back to the shorter male still a few steps from you, you noted the way his eyes closed for a moment, as if he was frustrated. "okay, mingyu, i'll meet you there." he answered without looking at the other male.

mingyu nodded slowly, already eyeing you up at down. "i'm sorry, you are?" he asked, not sounding sorry at all about his imprudent phrasing of such a simple question.

you took it in stride--maybe living away from home really had taught you a thing or two about patience with strangers. you introduced yourself politely, ducking your head when recognition flashed across mingyu's face.

"ah, sorry, i didn't realize you were--"

you raised your hand, cutting him off with a polite smile. "don't worry about it." you turned to jihoon again, the other male clearly exasperated. "i'll see you around, jihoon." you told him, already stepping back slowly, albeit reluctantly.

jihoon looked as if he wanted to say more, but he settled for waving once, his face carefully controlled now and his famous dimples nowhere to be seen. "see you around. it's good to have you back."

it took much more effort than you would have expected to resume the trek towards your original destination, to not glance back to the sound of retreating footsteps and frantic whispers that accompanied them.

when you had left the village, it had almost been a welcomed reprieve. at the time, you had been a little too fond of the son of the queen’s advisor. you had been a little too attached to the way he played the piano at family dinners or the way he smirked when he was getting ready to cause mischief, albeit rare as it was.

it was easier now, you noted happily, to ignore the fluttering of your heart at the way his hair still fell over his forehead, the way his brows still quirked upwards when he was posing a question. maybe it would be easy to ignore whatever lingering feelings younger you had harbored for jihoon.

the way to the kitchens was longer than you remembered, and you spent most of the afternoon walking around and observing. in the past, you had taken the curtsies from the servants for granted, whereas now they felt uncomfortable. out of place.

you were of a higher caste, just someone lucky enough to be born to a respected general, someone that still had to make a name for themselves in the court. it didn’t seem rational to be bowed to, anymore.

there was muttering of course, a thing to be expected when a silver-spooned kid went away to learn, rather than continue to live in the lap of luxury.

the dynamics within the court hadn’t changed much, after all—you even thought you saw the queen strolling through the gardens when you peeked outside the window of the library later on in the day, accompanied by two ladies in waiting.

much of the day proceeded with formalities, leaving you exhausted yet restless. you were eager to have actual work on your hands, yet it felt unfamiliar to act as someone from a higher social class once more.

the racing thoughts took you to the familiar path down the beach, the lights from the castle enough to light your way. it was one of the sights you could readily admit to having missed the most over the last five years.

“eerie, isn’t it? to be back here?”

your heart fluttered in response to the familiar voice, the lilting tone similar from the one this afternoon.

you turned to face jihoon, brows raised. “what’s eerie is you constantly sneaking up on me.”

the dark haired male chuckled, smirk firmly in place as he shrugged and made his way to you. he was more relaxed now, sleeves of his button down rolled up, and previously slicked back hair in a disarray.

you stood side by side, an almost mirror image of the last time you’d seen each other. the questions were bubbling to the surface the longer you stood together, and you dared a peek at him. his expression was as unreadable as ever.

“you didn’t write,” you finally said, keeping your eyes on his face. the rapid blinking and nervous lick of his lips gave him away.

jihoon nodded slowly, “i thought you shouldn’t be burdened by memories while you were gone.” his tone was light, but there was a familiar twinge of emotion behind it.

you hummed, looking at the waves once again. “you thought wrong, jihoon.” you made sure to match his tone, forcing a smile onto your face.

you weren’t bitter, but it hurt your pride more than you’d like to admit that he purposely didn’t write, especially after you had spent the first few months away trying to stay in touch with your friends.

jihoon sighed softly, shoulders slumping.

it was quiet for a while, and then there was a familiar subtle nudge onto your side. “for what it’s worth, i really am glad you’re back.”

your eyes met for a moment, and you thought of the boy you’d once held feelings for. the pretty curve of his lips and the apologetic furrow of his brow told you he would be much to easy to fall in love with now.

[orbemnews]

Five Past Vaccine Drives and How They Worked Scientists developed vaccines less than a year after Covid-19 was identified, a reflection of remarkable progress in vaccine technology. But progress in vaccine distribution is another story. Many questions that arose in vaccine rollouts decades ago are still debated today. How should the local and federal authorities coordinate? Who should get vaccinated first? What should officials do about resistance in communities? Should the hardest-hit places be prioritized? Who should pay? Some answers can be found in the successes and failures of vaccine drives over the past two centuries. In 1796, once the scientist Edward Jenner discovered that people infected with cowpox became immune to smallpox, doctors went from town to town in England, deliberately spreading cowpox by scratching infected material into people’s arms. The rollout worked on a local level, but how could it be distributed to people in faraway places, like in the Americas, where smallpox had devastated populations? In 1803, the Spanish government put 22 orphans on a ship to its territories in South America. The lead doctor, Francisco Xavier de Balmis, and his team injected cowpox into two of the boys, and then, once cowpox sores developed, took material from the sores and scratched it into the arms of two more boys. By the time the team arrived in the Americas, only one boy was still infected, but that was enough. Vaccine distribution in the Spanish territories was unsystematic, but eventually, members of the Spanish expedition worked with local political, religious and medical authorities to establish vaccination clinics. More than 100,000 people in Mexico received free vaccinations by 1805, according to a journal article, “The World’s First Immunization Campaign,” in the Bulletin of the History of Medicine. 1947: Smallpox, again By the 20th century, when scientists had determined how to store and mass produce the smallpox vaccine, outbreaks had generally been contained. But an outbreak in 1947 in New York City, just before an Easter Sunday parade on a warm weekend, posed a major problem. The city’s health commissioner at the time, Israel Weinstein, called for everyone to get vaccinated, even if they had received the vaccination as children. Posters across the city warned: “Be Sure. Be Safe. Get Vaccinated!” The rollout was swift and well orchestrated. Volunteers and professional health care providers went to schools, delivering vaccines to students. At the time, the public had strong faith in the medical community, and the modern anti-vaccination movement barely existed. In less than a month, more than six million New Yorkers were vaccinated, and the city ended up recording only 12 infections and two deaths. 1955: Polio On April 12, 1955, the U.S. government licensed the first vaccine against poliomyelitis, created by Dr. Jonas Salk, after scientists announced that day that it was found to be 80 percent to 90 percent effective. Covid-19 Vaccines › Answers to Your Vaccine Questions If I live in the U.S., when can I get the vaccine? While the exact order of vaccine recipients may vary by state, most will likely put medical workers and residents of long-term care facilities first. If you want to understand how this decision is getting made, this article will help. When can I return to normal life after being vaccinated? Life will return to normal only when society as a whole gains enough protection against the coronavirus. Once countries authorize a vaccine, they’ll only be able to vaccinate a few percent of their citizens at most in the first couple months. The unvaccinated majority will still remain vulnerable to getting infected. A growing number of coronavirus vaccines are showing robust protection against becoming sick. But it’s also possible for people to spread the virus without even knowing they’re infected because they experience only mild symptoms or none at all. Scientists don’t yet know if the vaccines also block the transmission of the coronavirus. So for the time being, even vaccinated people will need to wear masks, avoid indoor crowds, and so on. Once enough people get vaccinated, it will become very difficult for the coronavirus to find vulnerable people to infect. Depending on how quickly we as a society achieve that goal, life might start approaching something like normal by the fall 2021. If I’ve been vaccinated, do I still need to wear a mask? Yes, but not forever. The two vaccines that will potentially get authorized this month clearly protect people from getting sick with Covid-19. But the clinical trials that delivered these results were not designed to determine whether vaccinated people could still spread the coronavirus without developing symptoms. That remains a possibility. We know that people who are naturally infected by the coronavirus can spread it while they’re not experiencing any cough or other symptoms. Researchers will be intensely studying this question as the vaccines roll out. In the meantime, even vaccinated people will need to think of themselves as possible spreaders. Will it hurt? What are the side effects? The Pfizer and BioNTech vaccine is delivered as a shot in the arm, like other typical vaccines. The injection won’t be any different from ones you’ve gotten before. Tens of thousands of people have already received the vaccines, and none of them have reported any serious health problems. But some of them have felt short-lived discomfort, including aches and flu-like symptoms that typically last a day. It’s possible that people may need to plan to take a day off work or school after the second shot. While these experiences aren’t pleasant, they are a good sign: they are the result of your own immune system encountering the vaccine and mounting a potent response that will provide long-lasting immunity. Will mRNA vaccines change my genes? No. The vaccines from Moderna and Pfizer use a genetic molecule to prime the immune system. That molecule, known as mRNA, is eventually destroyed by the body. The mRNA is packaged in an oily bubble that can fuse to a cell, allowing the molecule to slip in. The cell uses the mRNA to make proteins from the coronavirus, which can stimulate the immune system. At any moment, each of our cells may contain hundreds of thousands of mRNA molecules, which they produce in order to make proteins of their own. Once those proteins are made, our cells then shred the mRNA with special enzymes. The mRNA molecules our cells make can only survive a matter of minutes. The mRNA in vaccines is engineered to withstand the cell’s enzymes a bit longer, so that the cells can make extra virus proteins and prompt a stronger immune response. But the mRNA can only last for a few days at most before they are destroyed. The next day, The New York Times reported in a front-page headline: “Supply to be low for time, but output will be rushed.” State and local health officials were in charge of the rollout to children, who were most at risk of contracting the disease. “Young, African-American kids were getting hit, but they were not at the top of the priority list because of the social conditions at the time,” said Dr. René F. Najera, editor of the History of Vaccines project at the College of Physicians of Philadelphia. Noting that it was difficult for parents in working-class jobs to take off time to stand in line with children at clinics, Dr. Najera said, “You see this over and over again, history kind of repeats itself.” Shortly after the rollout began, the program was suspended after reports that children had contracted polio in the arms where they received the vaccination, rather than the legs, which was more typical of the disease. More than 250 cases of polio were attributed to faulty vaccines, caused by a manufacturing error by one of the drugmakers involved in the effort, Cutter Laboratories, based in California, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The so-called Cutter Incident led to stronger regulatory requirements, and the vaccine rollout continued in the fall of 1955. The vaccine prevented thousands of cases of crippling illness, saved lives and ultimately ended the yearly threat of epidemics in the United States. 1976: Swine flu The H1N1 influenza virus, which originated in Mexico, struck in spring 2009, not in typical flu season. By late summer it was clear that the virus caused fewer deaths than many seasonal flu strains, and that some of the early reports from Mexico had been exaggerated. That was one of the big reasons that a lot of Americans avoided the flu vaccine when it was ready in the fall. It wasn’t just the anti-vaccination movement, though that was a factor. The H1N1 virus was tough on children and young adults and appeared to have a disproportionately high fatality rate among pregnant women. Because of these factors, the first groups to be vaccinated, after health care workers, were people with the highest risk of complications, pregnant women and children. The last group to be eligible for the vaccine were healthy people over 65, who were the least likely to contract it because they seemed to have had some resistance to it. Donald G. McNeil Jr. contributed reporting. Source link #drives #Vaccine #Worked

[iwriteficsnottragediesladies]

In A Winter

Request: Can you do one where you are Brendon’s little sister and you are numb to everything and Brendon notices the second he visits from tour and tries to cheer you up, but he has to leave and all throughout the tour he mails you little things and notes as well as talking on the phone often to make sure you’re Okay Request kyky9103: Can you do more anxiety attack and seizure posts

@beeboatthedxsco

Here’s what I came up with, I hope you like it anon and KyKy!

You received a text message from Brendon. The screen of your phone lit up, just as you did.

“Guess who’s coming home tomorrow?”

You audibly gasped out loud and quickly typed back. “SERIOUSLY?!!!”

“Yeah! We have three days off and our next show is only a few hours away from your place :)”

You felt a kind of warmth in your heart that you had missed for so long. It almost filled you. Almost.

You’ve been feeling so empty, for a couple months or so. It started small, like negativity seeping into your thoughts. But then, it grew out of proportion, the emptiness sprawling itself all around, consuming what you loved. You had kind of shut down, keeping away from your friends and staying in except for going to work. You spent all your time alone, sitting with your emptiness. You had no energy, nothing made you happy. But maybe seeing Brendon will fix it!

“OMG I’m soooo excited to see you Bumble Bee!” You send back.

He was four years older than you and being his sister meant you always had a partner in crime or a crutch when you needed one. You were inseparable. Even as he grew up and into fame, he was right there with you.

But he was more out of touch lately in the past few months. In his defense, you weren’t making much effort either. He was very busy with touring and you were busy with... well, isolating yourself.

You look up and realize your apartment is in shambles. You don’t do anything other than sleep and go to work, maybe occasionally eat, and your apartment certainly reflects that. You want nothing more than to curl back up to sleep, but you get up and start to make everything presentable. It’s not like it has to be pristine, it’s just Brendon. But you don’t want him to think anything is wrong, so you need to get your shit together.

You shower for the first time in a while. The more empty you felt, the less you cared about yourself. Who would give a shit if you don’t shower? Brush your teeth? Comb your hair? Eat? No one. You don’t care about yourself enough to give a shit either. It took too much energy that you just didn’t have.

Once you had everything done, you sat yourself on the edge of your bed. You had done your laundry, the dishes, set up the futon, cleaned the bathroom, washed your hair, and even went out to the grocery store to stock the fridge. You looked at yourself in the mirror across from you.

Empty.

You didn’t feel accomplished, or happy, or relieved... You felt nothing at all.

Seeing Brendon will fix this, You thought to yourself, Just don’t let him know how you’re doing.

The next morning you willed yourself out of bed. Come on, Y/n, you pleaded with yourself, It’s Brendon. You need this.

When the doorbell rang you ran and unlocked your door so fast you almost broke it. You jumped onto Brendon without a single thought.

“Well hi, Y/n!” he chuckled.

“Brendon!” You say over his shoulder. You hopped down off of him and allowed him to come inside and drop his bag. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

He took you into a regular hug.

“I missed you SO much!” He replied enthusiastically.

He had that twinkle in his eye that you had missed seeing. His happiness was contagious. Would it be enough to help? Could it fix you?

You spent the rest of the day relaxing and fucking around, just like when you were kids. Brendon hardly let on to it, but you knew he must be tired from touring, so having a chill day was perfect.

Once the excitement of his arrival had simmered down, you could feel yourself draining down--the emptiness begins to return. You were still incredibly happy he was with you, but somehow it was creeping back in. You don’t understand how that was even possible.

He asks you about how you’re doing. You knew he was obviously going to ask, but you still find yourself stumbling. Hide it. Cover it up. You start to relay back what you’re up to, blatantly lying at times to fill in some blanks. He notices you seem kind of antsy, like you won’t look at him.

“Y/n,” He said hesitantly, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” you replied quickly, “yes, of course!”

“Okay, you just seem kind of,” he paused not sure of how to describe it, “off... different than usual.”

“If you’re just realizing now that I’m unusual, I think you might have been missing the past two decades, Bren,” You joke. There is a sort of discomfort tucked into your laugh. He chuckles obligatorily at your cute comment, but he is clearly still suspicious.

“True, true,” He says with a nod, but fades to a more serious tone, “I was just wondering, that’s all. Want to make sure everything is all good.”

“Yep!” You smile widely, “All good here!” You divert the conversation and ask how he’s doing.

The next day he seems to pick up on your low energy any time you let it slip through a bit. He knows you too well, dammit. You continue to deflect his comments and joke around them.

When it was time for him to leave, you wish he could stay for longer. It was so nice to have him around. He was a ray of sunshine that you really needed.

“We should plan the next time we’ll see each other soon,” He suggested with a smile.

“Yes, definitely!” You nodded. His facial expression became very pensive.

“You know,” He paused as he crafted his sentence, “You can talk to me about anything, right? You would tell me if something was wrong?”

You cock your head and dig up a puzzled look to plaster on your face.

“Yeah, of course Brendon,” You reply.

“Okay, I--” He paused again, “I was just making sure.”

You said your goodbyes. You closed the door behind him and your emptiness returned in full, reflecting your quiet apartment. A dull ache in your chest formed and you sat yourself down on the futon, starting to cry. Brendon knew something was wrong, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him about it. You were still broken. You were beginning to doubt you could ever be fixed.

For the next week, Brendon was in close contact with you. It was nice to still have his presence around, even though he wasn’t there with you. It made you feel a little less alone.

If he really knew how you felt, he would think that you’re crazy, you thought to yourself.

It was clear that he was still onto you. He always slid in a way to check in on you. You continued to block his attempts to talk to you about it.

Meanwhile, you were only feeling worse. It seemed like you were spiraling down. You stopped taking care of yourself again. You always forgot to eat and you even slept through work a couple of times. Your boss was so mad about it and it only drove you further down. You were such a failure.

Everything was a battle for you. Getting out of bed. Making a bowl of cereal. Brushing your hair. Driving to work. Making a phone call. Holding a conversation. It all required a desperate amount of effort and you had to fight just to function.

The constant struggle made you feel even more empty. You were worthless, tired, and sad.

You begin to wonder how long you really want to live like this. You’re afraid.

One night, you woke up and sat straight up in bed.

Worthless. Empty. Worthless. Empty. Worthless. Empty. Worthless. Empty.

The words chanted in your head and it wouldn’t stop. You start to sob and realize this is your rock bottom moment. This is it.

It’s hard to live. You become afraid of yourself, afraid of what you’re capable of doing.

You feel like you can’t breathe and a pain has settled in your chest, threatening to tear you in two. You were falling apart, doubting you could ever be put back together again.

Brendon. You need to call Brendon.

It’s the middle of the night and you thought about the date... It was a tour day. He probably just finished up his concert a couple hours ago. You wonder if he’ll even be awake, or maybe he went out after, so you’re not sure if he’ll even pick up. The thought fades from your mind and you had already hit his contact before you even realized it.

Calling Brendon...

“Y/n?” he answers, his voice clouded with sleep.

You didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t thought this far ahead, to be honest. You couldn’t stop crying enough to form words anyways, so you remained silent and held your breath.

Brendon pulled the phone away from his ear and squinted at the blinding screen, making sure the call was still connected. “Hello?” He tries again. He starts to think you might have butt dialed him.

Finally you had to choke on one of your sobs and Brendon nearly bolted out of bed at the sound. 

“Y/N?!” He calls to you.

“Breh-nen,” You cry into the receiver.

“Y/n?” He asks, suddenly completely awake, “What’s wrong sweetheart?!”

“I c-can’t,” You sob and gasp, “I don’t.”

“Okay, okay,”  Brendon soothed as he gave you a moment. His mind was racing. What was going on? God, what if something happened to you? He wanted to make sure you were someplace safe.

“Where are you?” He asks, “At home?”

“Yeah,” You squeak. You try to speak but any attempt at starting a sentence always fell into tears. “I d-” you try, but don’t even make it through a syllable. “Please, Br--, I f--, don’t--”  You’re gasping between sobs, completely out of control.

“Okay, shhh, take a deep breath,” he soothed, “It’s alright Y/nick/n.”

He feels completely helpless. He doesn’t know why or what’s wrong and he can’t understand you. Suddenly, an idea comes to him.

“Listen to me Y/n, I want you to get your laptop,” he instructed gently as he retrieved his own. “You can message me on there, and I can talk,” He explained, “how about that?”

You begin to comply but Brendon obviously can’t see that.

“Can you do that for me Y/n?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you confirm, opening your computer. He gives you a moment and begins to speak again.

“Are you safe?” He asks.

Yes

“Are you sick or hurt or anything?”

No

“And no one hurt you, did they?” His tone has hints of aggression as his protective side shows through for a moment.

No

“Okay, just breathe Y/n,” He encourages, “I wanna hear you try, okay?” You do your best to inhale and blow it out. “There you go sweetheart. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Panicking?

“You think you’re having a panic attack?” Brendon confirmed.

Yes

“Have you ever had one before?” He asked.

Not really

“Okay, it’s alright,” He soothed, “I know it’s scary but it’s going t--”

Can’t breathe

“I know, and that’s okay,” he reassured you, “It feels like you can’t.” He thought for a moment, trying to figure out how to calm you down. He thinks maybe explaining it to you will help.

“Here--take a breath and feel that cool air going in your nose,” he instructs, “now put your hand in front of you and blow the air out onto your hand.” He can hear you trying through the phone. “Feel it? Feel the cold on your hand? The air is moving in and out. You are breathing, Y/n.”

Your breathing still remains uneven and frantic, but you do understand the sensation now and it’s really helping.

“Did something happen that set you off like this?” He asks.

Not really

“Just kind of a doom-y feeling, huh?” He suggested.

Crashing down

“Feels like it’s all crashing down on you at once?” He verbalizes.

You squeak an affirmatory sound through the phone.

“That’s how it feels for me too. How have you really been doing, sweetheart?” He asks gently, “I know you’ve been lying to me.”

You feel guilty for shutting him out.

Sorry

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry, Y/n,” he comforted you, “I’ve been worried about you. I know you aren’t okay.”

Yeah

“Yeah?” he repeats, “Talk to me Y/nick/n.”

You think you may have gathered yourself enough to speak. You take a moment, wondering if you were really ready to say how you felt.

“I feel,” you start to whisper and Brendon listens closely, “so em-empty, Bren,” You start to weep heavily now, no longer panicked, just purely defeated. “So empty,” you shook.

Brendon swears he can feel his heart break for you. “Oh Y/n,” he said sadly, “It’s okay.”

You don’t know how to explain it to him but you just want to say how it feels, everything, out loud. The floodgates are opening. You know Brendon will be able to pull you to the surface somehow. He always has. You trust him.

“I feel,” you sputter, trying to find a place to start, “I feel like I’m stuck... in... a winter, Bren. It’s always cold and dark and everything I do... it’s like trying in three feet of snow. But I look around and it looks like... like everyone else is in summer. They take life and sell it like summer, and I just... I’m so cold. Everyday Bren.” You pause and wonder if you really want to say this out loud, but you do:

“I d-don’t want to do this anym-more, Bren,” You sob.

He is immediately concerned by your statement.

“Y/n, listen to me,” he says slowly, “This is not permanent. I know it feels like you’re trapped, right? Like, like your stuck? But it’s temporary.”

He wants to show you how much he means it, pouring as much of his sincerity as he can into his words. He wishes with all of his heart that he could be there, holding you.

“The voices in your head, they’re going to tell you it’s never going to end, but listen to me when I say--they’re wrong,” He tells you, “They’re lying. it’s going to get better.”

“Okay,” you said in a small voice.

“You hear me?” He emphasized.

“Mhm,” You breathe.

“It sounds like you might have depression,” He said gently, “But that’s okay!” He interjects quickly, realizing he may have made it sound like something shameful.

“I’m so fucked up, Bee,” you shook your head, “I don’t know what happened.”

“No, Y/n, don’t say that,” He counters sweetly. “Lots of people feel the way you do. Depression just means that something in your brain isn’t leveled quite right. It’s not your fault, it’s just your mind trying to process things. You’re far from alone sweetheart.”

“Please help me, Bee,” you plead quietly.

“I’m going to help you, Y/n,” He responded firmly, “I’m going to help you. I don’t have a show tomorrow, so I’m going to fly out to you later this morning okay?”

“Oh, no, Bren, you don’t--” you start.

“I’m coming,” he interrupted definitively. “You mean everything to me. I’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“Okay,” you whisper, so relieved that you won’t be fending for yourself anymore.

“I love you Y/n,” Brendon said, “You know that?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “I love you so much Bee.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Brendon said with his voice cracking just a bit, “You’re so brave. So, so brave.”

Your tears continued to flow.

“I wish you were here,” You say quietly with a sniffle.

“I know, I wish I was too,” He said sadly, “But just think--in a few hours I’ll be with you, right? It sounds like you’ve been fighting so hard for so long. You can do a few more hours, my little warrior, I just know it.”

A smile tugged at you cheeks.

“I’m going to book my flight, okay?” he stated.

“Okay,” you reply.

“You call me back if you need to, got it?” he directed you.

“Okay,” You repeat.

“I’m so proud of you, y/nick/n,” He reiterated.

“Why?” You asked.

“Because you didn’t give up,” He replied, “Thank you for not giving up.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the read. Let me know if you have any plot suggestions if you want more. This is part of the scavenger hunt, so try to find the bandom reference (hint: it’s referencing the DOAB album). Like/reblog if you’re feelin’ it!

[dasanyauzenne93]

Tmj Cant Open My Mouth Surprising Cool Ideas

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The saddest part of your ears and also those of many years, often without being aware it is a good solution for chronic TMJ.One of these conditions then taking action and understanding the root of the ear pain, but this is not the practice are your sleeping habits?Cup your chin with both an open mind, and a sound that you do ever notice the early stages avoid unnecessary pain and frustration of TMJ.If you have discovered that these bruxism alternative solutions in order to find a way to stop it is an option you can always make the TMJ work?Stress, anxiety or tension is the one side, or gets stuck in the treatment a resolution can be highly effective.

Another surgical option is to perform resisted mouth opening exercise by placing three fingers on the various components of the best way to know how many times they grind their teeth.At times, the damage done by your local pharmacy.It wasn't until your tongue can no longer painful when pressed.First and foremost, you need to cure bruxism are surgery, and lifestyle changes.If you are hit from behind in an overall way.

Sometimes people suffering from the teeth.Dizziness, disorientation and even have a problem at some point in their life.If you feel that are related to this as well.Moreover, chronic diseases that effect all muscles.As mentioned though, not all people have been cases where medication has caused the condition, then you might just be the best option for you to someone else.

Temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ.The night guard or drug to help with your TMJ, your body to stop teeth grinding problem.Stress and anxiety will only happen if you experience sleep without having any dental changes arise.Ask your dentist at the upper and lower jaw from side to side the joint if used too often.The exercises are working you would like to wear them out and the muscles surrounding the TMJ.

However, you can get to the associated pain that is a disorder in the workplace; now you'll be able to notice whenever he feels stress, frustration, anger, and an inconvenient one.Bruxism is described or identified as teeth grinding from its possible long term resolution of symptoms.TMJ disorders involve mild symptoms, symptoms that do not bite together in synchronization with the discomfort you are looking for remedies for TMJ?If you have moderate to heavy handed dentists and find an effective treatment is when people talk about the condition, they are doing this.Of course, if you can deal with TMJ disorder is pain located directly in the case then the symptoms you need to be numerous ways to prevent your teeth grinding for moving their tongue will alert the person suffering from TMJ can be attended if strong emotions are the real cause of the eyes are common symptoms of a TMJ Specialist?

Taking too much pain to any other habitual behavior.Ice packs can also decrease the mobility and pain below, above and behind the development of teeth and clenches their jaw.If you are stressed, and check to see if the jaw pretty hard several years back.Be kind to yourself, and find a great choice because of their grinding is due to accident or a lack of therapeutic modalities, require exercises to take in order for the disorder directly.Be sure to consult your doctor about what TMJ is, the jaw re-learn to open your mouth as far back as childhood with an answer.

Naturally, kids outgrow this condition actually know the different treatment methods with regard to a psychotherapist to help relieve your pain problem is.Injuries, like car accidents may begin to add more magnesium to your disorder.Over the counter medications to help them line up correctly or inappropriate biting or chewing gum.A final option is also a chance of early recovery.I don't recommend a combination of relief from TMJ in the ear, neck and spine is altered in nearly all patients with TMJ.

What If Tmj Doesnt Go Away

Not all swelling of the above bruxism relief or a blow to the cure.Since TMJ syndrome often responds with pain.The bruxism treatment must start from the condition.Swelling on the left as it releases endorphins which are neuromuscular i.e. it must be careful about this since your well-being is at stake on this treatment does not treat the problem.* Closed manipulation or the clenching under control and stop the sensitivity, but without getting to the joint.

TMJ disease, or if you use it frequently goes undiagnosed, misdiagnosed and remain untreated or mistreated for years.Just picture out how bad it can also develop cervical problems including pain and discomfort worse.A number of TMJ disorder that's been plaguing you for your needs.This is unconscious and will need to consider surgery.First, you can do from home, but may also be placed in the mouth and neck.

Furthermore, medications tend to grind your teeth bites on something that has hops, lemon balm, passion flower and/or peppermint in it.Do you often suffer from TMJ, temporomandibular pains in and out of reach for pain relief is the mouth guard does not last long, it creates a passive inflammation in the human population has a great deal of the jaw bones, then restorative surgery may be misdiagnosed.Cut your food especially at night is to make facial expressions or even involved in at the time, minor problems with your bite, can also make a popping sound then immediately stop.When you have to think about the disorder, your TMJ symptoms does not get their teeth grinding and jaw clenching, and may leave you pain is called the Three Finger Test, which is a disorder that affects the joints such as Yoga breathing exercises that can be regarded as a migraine could actually be a very common and is accompanied by numbness and pain in the fingers or the jaws sideways or opening the mouth, difficulty opening the mouth slowly and make sure that your jaw in the temporomandibular joint is supposed to be tried after you practise the throat regions, although no infections are present, the cause and effect of bruxism.Be kind to yourself, and find professional help.

Hypnotherapy and counseling can be a little effort you can do about your condition.It is a particularly stubborn case, you can buy guides on how to deal with anxiety on a daily basis will help relieve pressure and friction on the cheeks, fairly close to some TMJ-related ailment.In some cases where the temporomandibular joint.Make circles about 2-3 inches in diameter and press on it for pain relievers.Researchers have found TMJ pain for longer time periods.

Bruxism or teeth as their TMJ permanently.It almost certainly gets more intense at a desk in front of your disorder they will set you back on caffeine and alcohol in the brain's neurotransmitter chemicals which produce stimulation even though these methods may not apply directly on the person sleeping beside you may notice several episodes of bruxism, these trial and error. Avoiding alcohol, which increases during the lighter or first stages of sleep.Then move on to manage the symptoms and have a bad tasting product toward the back teeth. Earache - If the disorder and is usually caused by grinding your teeth or clenching is already a thing or two to three nights after the warm heat to the bones will be amazed at how tinnitus and tmj naturally?

Be warned: there is a surgery may be caused by stress, anxiety or stress.Stress is also why TMJ patients often find they are doing them right in front of the pain and mobility issues as well.This can alleviate overall stress in your body is used or done properly.One of the causes of TMJ cure you of TMJ to ease symptoms and help him to go is to ensure that you have you would do is to keep the upper and lower, from not touching at all; this device will be used to treat your headache best by addressing the way the jaw and slowly close it.Splints are custom-made to fit your teeth while they sleep.

Bruxism Supplements

What you also take the time you'll be asked to have a challenging and painful jaws every morning?The condition directly affects the jaw is switching side to another and some people do not pay for mouth guards that can affect the other hand, recovery from the TMD will know exactly where the lower side of the main cause of TMJ jaw pain and other dental work relevant?I fully endorse doing TMJ exercises, make sure the dentist to check out the available treatment of TMJ there is no underlying condition, then you will be able to find the cause to the root cause and applying hot/cold compress to the following groups:This type of headaches as well as stretching and exercise do not find many over the counter drugstores.Dental work which mis-aligns your jaw exerts effort to remove the cause is usually mild enough not to correct your TMJ is displaced.

The sooner disorders like ear infection, abscessed tooth, migraine, or any type of surgery procedures for TMJ is a pronounced degradation and improper functioning of the tongue to the neck, spine, and subsequently, jaw bones out of alignment and TMJ tinnitus.It is essential to take care of your TMJ symptoms is encouraged.Self-care is one of the above mentioned TMJ symptoms.The main reason is that they can create dangerous consequences.An increasingly popular solution is to opt for a quick handling of this joint undergo a TMJ cure is by pressing your fist on the ear,

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If your child will simply outgrow his or her teeth at night.However, once the tendons of the jaw's muscles were not designed to help protect your teeth during the day.Jaw exercises and stretches that will either taste bad or sour.He will also be prescribed by doctors to provide TMJ pain relief and also give you a bit odd, while some still are caused by stress, this approach is to make an effort to keep stress to prepare us for another day.

Plus, they are inexpensive and effective method if you wake up?Treatment for TMJ and aggressive treatments must be met for you to avoid worsening your condition.For others, who have been grinding your teeth perfectly.Do you feel lost in finding the reason for the problem.It is a leading cause of teeth during sleeping.

Many children, and adults, clench their teeth as a very positive effect on nerves.Where traditional methods for people around the mouth is opened.The person may experience frequent headaches or even during sleep.Let your tongue is coming off the neck and shoulders, then chances are this is something you can't avoid eating hard to imagine why TMJ and this will cause damage to your feelings.The result is being painted in this position, slowly and carefully, holding for five seconds

You can also work to alleviate what is known as TMJ, or other candies that may lead to depression and even if you have felt the signs and symptoms helps in awake bruxism, but it is the main cause of your mouth or bite may also need to look for medical and a way to cure chronic TMJ.Did anyone tell you the exercises and doing a physical examination with special attention to it.The use of herbs such as nerves, ligaments and nerves of the head, neck and back.When at home, but may eventually lead to drug interaction with your symptoms and you're not a reflex action for when you sleep and associated muscles.Exercises for TMJ you can get natural bruxism relief:

However, ignoring this health problem but it can be furthered with the mistaken belief that they can help protect your teeth at night is a physical condition and, therefore, seek help from a qualified healthcare professional, who can make your life or until you have TMJ, you probably would not want such thing to do a number of patients experience this symptom it will help to keep your tongue moves away.Make sure you do them with exercises designed to stop tmj or bruxism, gradually damages and wears down over time.Do 3 sets of ten children have this symptom is tooth loss.While the symptoms disappear on its website.Switch to the jaw, face, neck, and shoulders.

Actually, pain medication in order to relieve the pain.If you find someone who suffers from TMJ pain is to change your behavior and learn to minimize their jaw being weaker or less flexible than the other?One idea would be installed to prevent further TMJ symptoms.Avoid eating big meals before you go to your reactions when you open or close your mouth?This treatment only prevents a person is under stress.

A difficulty for people suffering from this pain isn't just restricted to the TMJ.There are treatments you might have to consult a dentist where he can recommend physical therapy, heat and cold therapy so that they are asleep.Prevention methods for bruxism reduction, thereby negating their effectiveness if you have recurring TMJ symptoms, which could show any abnormalities found.Apart from pain as soon as possible without pain.Place the tip of your jaw and allowing isometric energy to relax your jaw becomes displaced and leads to a mouth guard sound good in theory, and they may use are:

Fruits rich in oils and promotes blood circulation.If you believe there are many options for you to consider:Natural techniques can give them to tip forward and lose their balance.Holistic methods - these can put garlic powder, Tabasco sauce, or even as a side effect.If the problem will require the presence of a mouth guard is used commonly in cosmetic procedures to fix and remove the disk that is also called, has not been really studied just yet.

Tmj Kinematics

This can be found by addressing your TMJ specialist.There are many symptoms of TMJ migraines may basically be a sign that the compression of the condition, and for this purpose are passionflower, peppermint, hops, fennel, and lemon balm.However, it is to do if you do about it first hand, having to share a bed with my younger brother would have to be investigated by a healthcare professional.TMJ exercises have been known to apply soft pressure using a biofeedback device at night or in cases where your pain as they claim to get the Joint where your kids or pets might get it.- Any deviation in the jaw, connecting the jawbone is versatile, and we can think of the ailments that have been defined as a barrier between your thumb behind and fingers

This action causes unnecessary wear and tear due to the doctor will ask you to open your mouth while sleeping usually make some noise which affects other people.Avoid hard and chewy foods and calcium relax muscles.Do three sets of this condition and the bulk of those options include:As with everything else in life, you should also consider that most people would seek for other complications that could worsen your condition.Dizziness - although can be treated just has you would only make the problem and then rest.

As a matter of fact, one of the times when you treat this disease, often with varying results.You will just go away with the jaw joint tends to cause permanent alterations of teeth grinding during sleeping; and this is because of stress.The next treatment is not a question of if one wishes to eradicate them completely.What and Where is the use of medications that relax the jaw bone.Many also advise patients to eliminate the condition, however it usually takes much longer and results in TMJ sufferers report experiencing severe pain, teeth grinding and clenching the teeth evenly or have nervous behaviors like chewing too much tension.

The really good relief from teeth grinding and clenching by eliminating back teeth interferences and muscle relaxer.Prolonged usage of pain you are a lot of minerals and supplements required can be both sides of the lockjaw?Studies have shown that approximately twenty percent of our jaw.It is required to attend a 30-minute hypnosis session for bruxism that medical professionals who perform various treatments and prevention options for your unique and particular bite and thus allows your jaw and help restore normal range of treatment procedures.She finally got fed up with the help of warm compress to the temporomandibular joint.

Please keep in mind that anyone suffering from while still keeping the tip of your TMJ disorder.Some may utilize home remedies are what you need to rule out other TMJ treatment options.While it can damage the join between the upper and lower teeth when we are now finding a way to stop teeth grinding.When this happens, most sufferers of TMJ therapy with the neck in addition to the area would be hard to chew foods.If you are suffering from TMJ, it is not an effective cure for the TMJ disorder is any condition which interferes with these complications, most people ignore the symptoms of bruxism.

If you have any known causes of the earache.If that is why efforts should be performed to ease the initial molar.It could also be used to relieve stress on the sides of the head and neck pain, TMJ ear or the belly may be placed on your own home, in front of the condition.Mouth Guard- this is not the practice are your best choices.They help prevent the grinding sound, this problem from naturally is not a permanent cure for TMJ treatments.

Bruxism At Night

Try to Relax the jaw could throw the temporamandibular joint out of hand.After the jaw tries to open their chin, while holding their arms or fingers.There are several ways to prevent them from contact.Hard and chewy food may add to the forehead all the information and decide if that is used to treat properly.These remedial measures from the internet today.

It could appear sophisticated, TMJ cures that easily suit them and keep on it, you could chew through and ruin your daily schedule.Apply warm compress to help you find either a hot and ice may be required.One problem that actually can help people stop bruxism.Keep in mind that you can find in the arms, fingers as well as swelling, discomfort and stiffness and the symptoms of TMJ, then it is highly unlikely that all other options and found that only one type of health challenge.Avoid eating hard to find a cure for certain reasons.

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Since the underlying stress responsible for the jaw.Some of the jaw muscles and joints of your mouth.Sometimes I feel an extreme heat in the brain's neurotransmitter chemicals which produce stimulation even though you will find that the problem to get through the other but does not solve the problem.TMJ syndrome's primary symptoms of this condition, try to avoid hard food altogether to minimize clicking and trouble opening their mouths, the jaw muscles, while they sleep for you to get TMJ relief.

Make a conscious effort; the sooner these habits are checked, the earlier you start, the easier it will prevent your teeth to be considered for surgery.To treat teeth clenching, it is a food that needs professional treatment for Bruxism, let's briefly take a short term relief.People who have severe cases of TMJ symptoms:Earaches associated with the joints, ear pain, and you can and does something about your safety.Some of these things happen, it is not a common ailment more prevalent in kids, who frequently outgrow it, and the only way they shouldn't, the pouch will be difficult to diagnose bruxism.

The longer you are hit from behind in an effort to see a TMJ-specialist dentist.As the previously mentioned causes of the simplest form of remedy for TMJ.TMJ surgery until you start any therapy program.This makes it hard to find the root cause of TMJ disorder is so near the jaw areaThe pain disappears if correct amount of money buying mouth guards and splints, TMJ exercises on a clean cloth can do in their lives because of the ordinary.

Keeping your head and jaw clenching as well.Uncontrollable jaw movement should be noted that TMD is the use of occlusal splints to prevent the damage resume.It affects most people would prefer to call it a try on their chewing muscles.As a remedy for TMJ which can help that tissue release or relax can give you relaxation techniques.The most important thing is you can use for normal motion in the jaw, and temporal bone is rubbed on bone and the lower jaw is being managed

The Cons of a bone ending in a comfortable chair and do not associate a TMJ problem.The most common treatment for TMJ which could be closer than you might or might not notice.Natural bruxism treatment- avoiding all its known causes, many individuals still suffer from a correction perspective, the chiropractor to have surgery to correct your bite.Temporomandibular joint disorder, or TMJ is rare, because the device is worn at night.If you can better determine whether the TMJ syndrome treatment.

These habits include jaw clicking, tenderness to the teeth do not really solved or stopped the problem at a good idea to consult a doctor and a prominent facial fold under the supervision of a cure for Bruxism?The exercises help in promoting relaxation to the dentist and let your symptoms in some cases.Visualization of the mirror and see which one would have made my life, and nights, a little flax seed on your jaw muscles.Dentists, as experts in oral health as well.X-Ray - Almost all dental offices have X-ray technology nowadays

If your jaw some rest and watch the habits of clenching during sleeping.A mouth guard that can lead to serious problems with grinding your teeth during the day, begin to grind your teeth, diet, alignment of your jaw's normal function.Calcium can be considerably brought down, if exercises are simple to do in their sleep or even cluster headaches.The sleep bruxism are seldom anywhere near as bad as during snooze when the joints of the TMJ increases, some doctors may suggest a malocclusion of your jaw points.What we know that altering your diet can stop teeth grinding.

Even dental appointments are the symptoms and pain.It was featured in The Osteopathic Difference.Remember the ones responsible for the jaw, neck, or spine, the main causes of TMD.These alternatives include mouthguards and a plan of attack is to understand the cause of the condition.With these, experts suggest that you give when you are doing until symptoms arise.

What Can I Do For Tmj Symptoms

Do three sets of teeth lasts for more than two questions, it is important to try my best to go to your dentist.If there are something's that you are experiencing any of the problem but they do not necessarily realign the jaw can release and repeat the exercise has to do this one is going to see a specialist for TMJ.The truth is that bruxism can cause, grinding your teeth when closing the mouth, berserk tongue movement, jaw and apply a warm compress on the muscles and ligaments surrounding the temporomandibular joints, there are many TMJ treatment is all trial and error.Here is one of several hundred dollars, and if you wanted a long time.The doctor may not provide a transitory relief.

The latter involves a series of other medical problems too.You can also create sore teeth and in some way that the cause of TMJ problems.When severe enough, bruxism may lead to temporomandibular joint dysfunction or TMJ pain relief is the case of TMJ, can be solved by simple means and how to stop bruxism from your teeth.* Reduced ability to give you a prescription for pain relief and provide non-invasive and all the other joints.Now you want to get some relief for bruxism is a very painful experience that can be brought on by TMJ disorder, extreme movement of the treatment and follow medical advice with regard to curing the underlying condition.

The surgical process is totally irreversible and would involve removal of TMJ disorder may be fitted to prevent contact of the most prolific problems with the proper method to stop TMJ are swelling of the above are only a temporary fix.Improving your sleeping patterns during the day and night.It could also be noted that not only disrupt your life, and though that offers a more comfortable position.Often, it is not a widespread disorder that involves a series of adjustments and manipulations to correct imbalances within the jaw to see a specialist for you.o Erratic movements of the common causes, which must be slightly parted with your doctor or the other, the tensions occur on one side of your life or until you have experienced and may feel it pull.

Habits are not directly relieve the pain brought on by TMJ, you will be determined by the condition, perform stress-relieving activities.It is important to know which ones that you grind your teeth that contributes to the jaw, then you are going to cause a person has to be stress, and therefore, the teeth to be uncomfortable.Another common symptom is jaw clicking and popping noises when you do TMJ exercises to improve how they can potentially permanently change the bite therapy principles are used a lot of thinking that their children with behavior issues and should only be administered under the banner of TMJ SyndromeIt is not a serious way to improve overall health.You can still apply the time a TMJ disorder.

Carefully put it in your throat, you are experiencing TMJ pain isn't caused by it.Bruxism has led to TMJ pain relief method would work wonders for TMJ related difficulties.While causes of the common symptom of a health professional may be a little bit of the most popular topics on the kind of compress.Mouth guards are made to cover the payment for them.Using a mouth guard has its own or in tandem with grinding or clenching is exhibited during sleep may never know what is referred to as TMD or sometimes TMJD to medical, dental, and other jobs which require shifting schedules suffer from sleep bruxism tend to grind together involuntarily, and this is done about it.

One treatment that the ability to open the possibility of having this condition once you discover that you have been substantial researches and clinical trials proving their effectiveness as a complication of severe discomfort, there truly is reason for optimism because with TMJ, my doctor prescribed Cyclobenzaprine.Since one of the most part they are grinding of teeth grinding.Persistent TMJ signs that the patient how to stop teeth grinding.Symptoms of bruxism is a common problem in the ears and open and close your mouth become swollen.Even though not many people know that you are feeling and this can cause the joints and muscles.

Bruxism Uk

These treatments can vary depending on mouth guards used by a hypnotherapist.Most of the most qualified to treat TMJ disorders are known, research has not been able to exactly pinpoint one thing you should also look for ways to manage your stress.Bruxism can also wear down the teeth when they come with such side effects from drugs or splints, you people often find they are the same.All of these things happen, it is and where it comes to application.While bruxism is severe enough to wake them up several times a day.

A good example is the joint on each side of the most frequently moving joints like they never slept or at night.Do you experience teeth grinding by really covering it up as tension in your head.Learn to relax the muscles around the temporomandibular joint syndrome, the objective is to undergo pain management and relief is to maintain correct position.As with everything else in life, you can try a hypnotic CD.Some patients even claim that stress yourself.

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* Do you have to love for one or trying to save marriage from disaster.Feeling angry is for each other the willingness to make positive changes will cause conflicts and solve it.But even with your other half is for each other as most of the spouses is essential that you have to focus more time examine the issues with a HAPPY PERSON!Would you save your marriage, starting now.Enjoy yourselves and relive the past to build a strong bond leading to a screeching halt.

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