#serve it to me on a plate to diagnose me so can you tell me how it tastes and why i cant breathe

[pulchrasilva]

I think being cannibalised would be kinda therapeutic

[starlightkun]

🎶🛌

[moonswolfie]

Dinner time

timeskip!Osamu x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader is skinny, (past) verbal abuse, ED (?)

This is very self-indulgent and I haven't been diagnosed with an ED but my relationship with food can be seen as ED-like so I put the warning there

I was in an Osamu mood so I decided to write a sweet little story for him ahahasshahsah this man ≧ ﹏ ≦ (please excuse my horrible attempt at giving Osamu the accent)

Being married to Osamu was great. He treated you well, was an entertaining person and you got hooked up with the latest sibling drama straight from him.

But the one part that always bothers you is mealtime. Osamu is a great cook, which isn't surprising since he owns a restaurant and you love his food.

This would be great if Osamu wouldn't dote on you through his food so much. He always gave you the biggest servings to make sure you were well-fed and happy. It was his way of showing he loves and cares about you.

Your stomach couldn't handle large servings of food, it never could, even since childhood. Your parents always made fun of you and told you that you eat like a little baby, so you were scared he would make fun of you too if you told him.

So you tried your hardest to eat as much as you could every time, even if you weren't hungry at all or even if you felt like throwing up after. You ate even if you didn't have an appetite.

But it was worth it, seeing him smile happily while you were eating his food.

It was time for dinner again, something you grew to dread more and more.

You see, Osamu thought you enjoyed eating such big portions since you always finished them so fast when in reality you were trying to get it over with as quick as possible. So he thought he would make then even bigger.

You knew he just wanted to see you happy and that it made him very happy seeing you eat his food but you couldn't handle it anymore.

"Come here, darlin'. I cooked yer favourite." Osamu invited you to sit with him. You tried your best to hide your discomfort as you sat down across from him.

Looking at your plate, you already felt nauseous. He really did cook your favourite, but the amount...

You couldn't bring yourself to do it anymore. You ate slowly, and eventually stopped, just picking at your food to give the illusion of eating.

Osamu seemed to notice pretty quick, since his usual smile wasn't there. "What's wrong? Why aren't ya eatin'?" he asked, concerned.

"Samu, I can't do this anymore." you put down the chopsticks, looking at him with worry. He seemed taken aback and confused by the sudden change of behaviour on your end.

"What are ya talkin' about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Osamu, I've always had a really small appetite. I've never been able to handle big portions of food and I often feel sick after eating." you confessed, looking down at your plate. Now you're going to be made fun of, told you look like a twig, that you eat like a toddler. Maybe he'll tell you to stop being ridiculous and keep eating.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of whatever insult was going to be thrown your way.

"...Why didn't ya tell me that?" his question surprised you, opening your eyes to look at him. He looked concerned.

"I'm sorry it's just- You looked so happy when I ate all your food. I didn't want to let all the food you cook for me go to waste." you admitted, looking down at your plate again.

"So ya mean to tell me you've been forcin' yerself to eat all that food for months now." he crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. You shrunk under his gaze.

"Maybe... I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner, I-"

"What am I gonna do with ya? You gotta tell me these things, ya know?" he sighed, expression softening.

"...You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" he looked at you as if you said something really ridiculous.

"My parents used to get mad at me when I didn't eat and called me a baby and a skeleton for eating so little." you didn't dare to look at him after you admitted that.

"Yer parents are assholes. Yer the one who knows yer body the best, I ain't gonna judge ya fer that." you couldn't stop the smile that crept up on your face. He was... okay with it?

"I'm just mad ya didn't tell me sooner. Now I feel bad for makin' you eat all that food." his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, don't feel bad. I was the one who didn't say anything and ate the food." you assured him with a relieved expression.

"Your food is amazing, I would just prefer if you gave me smaller portions from now on." you reached over the table to lightly grab one of his hands, squeezing it affectionately.

"I got ya. And by the way, yer body is beautiful." he said, squeezing your hand back.

[dreadsuitsamus]

If you do requests, can we see some fluff headcanons with DBS Broly? Please??

i'll give it a shot! i have had broly on the brain since watching dbs broly haha idk if you want strictly headcanons or a sort of story in headcanon form so i'll try out both and see what works best for me (i love to worldbuild 🙈)

DBS Broly x Reader Story Headcanons

You meet Broly when you crash land onto his planet after losing a fire fight that screwed up your navigation system

He's alone on the planet, and goes to investigate the crash site when you land

You've been knocked unconscious by the impact, so he pulls you out of the ship and takes you to the shelter given to him by Goku

When you wake up, you're confused about your surroundings, when you see Broly you startle him with your gasp of fear

He looks scared too, so you apologize and ask him what happened

His voice is soft and he doesn't meet your eyes when he tells you how he took you to his shelter after you crashed

"Oh... Thank you so much. What's your name?"

"My name is Broly."

He's large but so SWEET

You assure him you'll do your best to fix your ship and be on your way as soon as possible

He doesn't say anything in response, but his eyes look lonely

You soon learn that it's because he's the only one on this planet. He doesn't give many details as to why, just that his friends that lived with him left some time ago, but at least they still visit

He takes you to your crashed ship and stands stoicly as you diagnose the issues

In essence, shit's fucked

"If it can even be fixed, it'll take me a long time to find a way to do it with the resources I have."

Broly offers his assistance whenever needed, often in the form of lifting the heavy things

He spends every waking moment with you while you work on the ship, asking questions when he feels curious

You enjoy his interest in your project and you answer every question in earnest, loving the pleased look on his face when you talk to him

When it becomes too late to work anymore, you and Broly go home to his shelter in the cave

Broly has plenty of provisions, but as you sit on the couch after a shower, you realize he doesn't know how to properly utilize what he's got in the pantry

"Here Broly, let me show you a few things."

Broly is amazed at the meal you cook, politely asking for seconds when he finishes the first bowl of chili

You laugh and fix him another plate. "You don't gotta ask, hon! It's your food, after all."

That doesn't stop him from asking for another serving at every meal

You sleep on the couch and Broly sleeps in his bedroom, but he leaves his bedroom door open

He has trouble sleeping, so usually for an hour or so he'll just talk with you or watch a movie on the couch until you're both ready for bed

One night you fall asleep during a movie, your body curled up at an awkward angle

Broly stands and gently lays you into a better position for your neck, and pulls the blanket over you. He whispers a soft goodnight and goes to his room, but he doesn't sleep

He thinks of you all night, and wonders why he has a fuzzy feeling in his chest

Each day he watches you patch up the ship, his stomach has an odd ache

Eventually you hit a wall and need a specific part that you can't repair, so you're as good as stranded on the planet now

Though you're not as bummed about it as you probably should be, for some reason

When you tell Broly what's going on, the ache in his stomach disappears

After a couple months of being stuck on the planet, a man named Goku pays a visit

Turns out he's the one who brings Broly his provisions. He's a kind man and when you explain how you ended up on the planet, he offers to help out and get the part you need

You write down exactly what it is you need, along with a few other supplies that would help you finish faster

Goku smiles and leaves with the list, promising to return with the supplies when he got them

At dinner, Broly is pushing his food around rather than eating it. And after realizing just the appetite he has, you find it extremely odd

"Does it not taste good?" You pout

"It does." His voice is soft, and his eyes have that lonely look again

"What's wrong then?" You put down your fork and put your hand to the center of the table

"I... Do not want you to leave."

HE'S BLUSHINGGGGGGG

"Why's that?"

"I don't want to be alone again."

The next time these so-called "friends" visit, you're going to beat them to a pulp

Before you can even respond, Broly starts up again

"My chest feels fuzzy when I see you. And my stomach hurts when I think about you leaving."

Your cheeks heat up. "Broly..."

He takes your hand and meets your eyes. He's tearing up. "Please don't leave." He whispers.

You smile and squeeze his hand. "Okay, Broly. I'll stay."

His smile is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen

Fluff Headcanons

Broly has no idea what to do in a relationship, so you have to teach him

Luckily, he's a quick study and soon understands his feelings and how to turn those feelings into actions

Broly is a bit confused, but he's got the romantic spirit when he brings you a bunch of the planet's native flowers

Said flowers are poisonous, you soon discover, but you assure Broly anyway that you love them as your hands are covered in blotchy, itchy red patches

Broly loves to cuddle. You can't remember the last time you actually sat on the couch cushion instead of Broly's lap

He hardly ever watches the movies you put on anymore. He loves to hide his face in the crook of your neck and hold you closely, as if you were a teddy bear

You, however, are certainly not complaining. You'll reach back and play with his hair when he does this, and you're pretty sure he's purring when you do it

His cheeks burn red when you turn your head and place a kiss somewhere on his face though

So, naturally, you do it often

Keeping true to his nature as a quick study, he picks up how to kiss after just a couple make-out sessions

He's intuitive to what you like, so when he finds that sensitive spot on your back, he uses it

It catches you off guard every time. You'll be in bed kissing and then suddenly his fingers brush over that spot, making you giggle and shiver

He smiles at you like you're a goddess every time he does it

When you tell him you love him (and explain what it means) he catches you in a bear hug and cries softly into your shirt. You hold him closely and shed tears of your own

Once he's collected himself, he promptly tells you he loves you too

Broly admires everything about you, always watching you do even the most mundane of tasks, like washing the dishes or folding laundry

You watch him when he trains outside, bringing him a drink and a snack when you feel he should take a break.

He immediately halts training when he sees you coming close to him, and he gives you a sweet kiss before he accepts the snack

Broly likes when you play with his hair, but he absolutely loves it when you brush it. He's so relaxed and he has a wistful smile with each stroke of the brush

You presume he must be a cat in another life

Broly loves holding your hand. He's so much bigger than you and he enjoys the sight of your smaller hand in his.

He feels extremely protective of you. Anytime you go outside he's with you, he won't hesitate to demolish any beast that comes your way

Broly's affection goes up a thousand percent after he kills whatever attempted to attack you

He holds you tightly and takes you right back home and holds you for hours, not letting you go until you ask him to

If it takes him even a fraction of effort to kill, sometimes you'll have to ask him twice to release you. Though he looks so hurt and scared when you ask too soon, so you always give him at least one hour to cuddle

Not that you tend to want to be let go anyway, since he's so warm and strong

Broly doesn't ever sleep very long, but sometimes you wake up before he does and you just watch him sleep, memorizing each detail of his face

You kiss him as soon as he starts to stir, surprising him for just a moment before he returns the kiss in kind

Cheelai and Lemo make their first visit since you crashed onto the planet while you're cooking dinner for Broly

He's happy to see them, but you keep true to your word and beat them both up

Broly knows he should stop you, but something is oddly satisfying about you defending his honor

Broly puts his hands on your shoulders as he stands behind you once you're done, and speaks to his friends as if nothing happened

They stay for dinner, and once they leave Broly kisses you like never before.

"I love you so much."

He says so every day, so you know he means it

end note: this was probably not what you were looking for and definitely too long, but i thank you for your request anyway! i like to explore different means of writing beyond a full-fledged fic, so this was a nice test to see what i enjoy! i hope you like what i've written anyway, anon ☺️

[prowl-autism-extraordinaire]

Alexthymia - NOAHFINNCE

I wish I could pull my brains out Serve it to you on a plate to diagnose me Can you just tell me how it tastes and why I can't breathe? Eat my feelings and lick the plate I'll be feeding you things I hate The bit that's off, the bit that rots, the bit that's rancid Digest a part of me, so you can speak my language Eat my feelings I wallow in, just take a bite and swallow it

[alizeh-tu-badi-mushkil-hai]

When someone asks me what scares me the most when I love someone, it makes me delve into a spiral of thoughts.

I have often wondered why, after every fight or misunderstanding, my mother would refuse to eat while my father would consume whatever he was served and even ask for dessert. Isn't that strange? I never contemplated whether my parents, who seemed deeply in love, truly were. It's a nightmare. Now I understand how caring and warm my mother was towards my father, eagerly waiting for their evening cup of tea and dinner until 4 o'clock in the morning. Yet my father never seemed to grasp the love she felt for him, or perhaps they never reciprocated their feelings for each other.

Now, as a 20-year-old adult, what scares me the most when I love someone is whether they will reciprocate my feelings. Will I ever be enough for them? Is my love so intense and genuine that they will truly understand it? After every fight with friends, family, or my significant other, I would go days without eating. It's difficult to express this feeling, but it's a hate that grips my throat, leaving me bawling my eyes out on the floor. I have developed a peculiar relationship with food. I eat not because I enjoy it, but because I know if I don't, I will fall ill and there will be no one to care for me in this house full of skeletons and acquaintances. Sometimes, I still go days without eating, forgetting to nourish myself, and it causes immense pain in my stomach. In those moments, even a sandwich from my college canteen can provide some solace.

Whenever someone asks me about my favorite food or what I enjoy eating, my mind goes blank. It reminds me of the days I endured brutal scolding and humiliation at the dinner table, when my weight caused hormonal and health issues that never seemed to find peace. I was diagnosed with B12 deficiency, thyroid problems, PCOD, and an anxiety disorder. I recall how my parents struggled to afford rice and water bills. I remember being 17 years old when I wrote in my diary that I wanted to eat pizza and drink cold coffee at a coffee shop. Sometimes, I read those words and wish I could tell that version of myself that I now have a little bit of money, enough to take myself on a solo date. However, I still find myself eating alone at home, in college, and at school. Sitting with others and sharing a meal feels foreign to me.

But on that day when my heart shattered because my love was not reciprocated, I despised myself for loving someone who didn't deserve even a fraction of me. I decided not to have dinner because I was drowning in an ocean of loneliness and self-hatred. My mom asked, "Do you want to have dinner? You didn't eat your breakfast and lunch today." After a 30-second pause, I replied, "Yes." I told her to give me whatever was available; I couldn't wait any longer. Eventually, my mother served me my favorite dishes: aam ras, puran poli, aamti, rice, and papad. I sat alone in the dark balcony with only a small study lamp. I broke a piece of puran poli, dipped it in aam ras, and stuffed it into my mouth. In that moment, a wave of intense emotions hit me, and I broke down in tears. I continued breaking pieces of puran poli and stuffing them into my mouth while weeping. I realized that I was stuffing food into my mouth but not truly eating as tears streamed down my face. I had convinced myself, just as my mother used to convince me to eat while I was engrossed in playing a jigsaw puzzle. I think she is still playing and searching for the missing pieces of her jigsaw puzzle, while her mother has given up, along with her appetite. But despite everything, I managed to finish my food and wiped away my tears, even though being kind to myself felt nearly impossible. I placed my plate in the basin, washed my hands, splashed some water on my face, and began contemplating.

Why do I love someone to such an extent that it consumes me, making it hard to breathe? Why do I allow people to consume my soul? Why do I deprive myself of food when I am sad? Why?

[darlinimamess]

AND NOW IM OVERTHINKING TILL I SHORT CIRCUIT ORDER EVERYTHING ON THE MENU JUST TO HURL IT ANOTHER TOXIN FOR MY BRAIN TO MISINTERPRET I WISH!! I COULD PULL MY BRAINS OUT!! SERVE IT TO YOU ON A PLATE TO DIAGNOSE ME CAN YOU JUST TELL ME HOW IT TASTES AND WHY I CANT BREATHE EAT MY FEELINGS AND LICK THE PLATE ILL BE FEEDING YOU THINGS I HATE THE BIT THATS OFF THE BIT THAT ROTS THE BIT THATS RANCID DIGEST A PART OF ME SO YOU CAN SPEAK MY LANGUAGE EAT MY FEELINGS I WALLOW IN JUST TAKE A BITE AND SWALLOW IT

[ultra-maha-us]

Diabetic Diet - An Easy Way to Supplement Your Diabetic Diet Naturally

Why would you consider the diabetic diet resources here as a safe haven? To find out simply read on! Drowning in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean sounds scary, does a diagnosis of diabetes sound equally terrifying? It should, with all the information and changes required there stands a fair chance this condition could take you. When working at a previous job at Vitamin World (similar to GNC) I saw so many nervous customers come in that were on the verge or having just been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes, I could pick them out before they would tell me exactly what they were looking for. Asking them how they controlled their blood sugar was the easiest way for me to see what they were doing obviously. Spending a ton of money on blood sugar controlling herbs was not always needed, especially when some can interfere with medicine! As I increased my research on the topic, it was always evident that minerals and herbs do work, very well for that matter, however are most powerful when used along with a diabetic diet. I began really looking into diabetic diet resources and the changes were not difficult or hard to manage at all if done incrementally.

Numerous diabetic diet resources mentioned will power as well as portion control as the most important aspects of this diet. I wondered to myself "why will power?" and then something clicked. Our last few generations in America used food as a reward and a reason to celebrate! It became obvious why the diabetic diet resources I read mentioned will power as a focal point. Portion control was a little more obvious and intermittent fasting should be for you as well, especially due to the fact that type two diabetes is many times the result of a poorly managed diet. Without consuming the proper foods, you could be wasting your time with the diabetic diet. The diet is no different from the one and one equals two mathematically equation.

When you begin the diet, portion control added with the proper food choices equals the diabetic diet equation. Make sure half of your plate consists of carbohydrates, complex carbohydrates to be exact. The vegetables you want to have as a majority on your plate are the non-starchy types such as cauliflower and broccoli. Carrots, eggplant, and peppers are other non-starchy foods that you could put on your plate. Seeing half of our plate is now full, you want to mentally cut the remaining portion in half, creating two quarters. One of the quarters will have a serving of simple carbohydrates or starchy foods such as rice or cooked beans. The remaining portion will be a protein such as lean beef, chicken or turkey, or maybe fish if you enjoy it and can get past the smell. Carbohydrates come in two forms, as mentioned earlier. The biggest difference between simple and complex carbohydrates is how our bodies break them down. One of the carbohydrates takes very little time to raise blood sugar, this is the simple form of carbohydrates. These are the carbohydrates a diabetic will take to spike their blood sugar after it drops. Complex carbohydrates take longer to be broken down by the body and will not raise blood sugar as fast. These carbohydrates can be taken in conjunction with a simple carbohydrate to stabilize the blood sugar once it has risen, this would be a hummus or peanut butter normally.

Minerals are equally important to biochemical reactions in your body as vitamins are and greatly deal with controlling blood sugar. Minerals are also known to decrease your insulin resistance, which is a common diabetic issue. In fact, many of the foods mentioned in the diabetic diet are mineral rich. Chromium is by far the most popular supplement I saw being purchased for blood sugar control, and when researching diabetic diet resources, this was normally the first one mentioned. Why does chromium have such a popular hold in the world of the diabetic diet and natural diabetes supplements? I will say first that all individuals need it as it does a wonderful job of breaking down fats and carbohydrates while your body metabolizes food. Diabetics hold the notorious attribute of being deficient in minerals including chromium. This is especially true for those with type two diabetes, which is why mineral supplements are a popular purchase after research. Another important and often times deficient in diabetics, mineral is magnesium. Magnesium is an important factor in over 300 separate biochemical functions and processes in the body including the control of blood sugar levels. Aside from helping to stabilize blood sugar levels, magnesium also helps to lower glucose levels during fasting, which is an action that is not necessarily safe for diabetics to do outside of a doctor's care.

Although not as well known for their health related properties, non-mineral supplements can also help regulate blood sugars and can be included in the diabetic diet! Cinnamon is one of these supplements and food choices, which are becoming accepted as a blood sugar controlling tool. In fact, cinnamon is becoming encouraged as a part of the diabetic diet by more and more health professionals. The reason behind this is positive studies show the effect of cinnamon and the safety as well as availability of it. Cinnamon has not been shown to counteract with oral diabetic medicines and in fact helps them regulate blood sugar more efficiently. Herbs and natural remedies that serve many purposes are gymnema as well as ginseng. Gymnema has been used for a variety of medical treatments around the country of India as well as portions of Africa for thousands of years. Gymnema is by far the most popular plant form herb that is used to treat diabetes as it makes the body's cells more receptive to insulin and decreases resistance. Ginseng is normally thought of as only an herb that promotes energy, not true. Among the variety of uses ginseng has, specifically North American ginseng, is its ability to better control blood sugars. I do not condone dropping or starting anything without first consulting your endocrinologist! The diabetic diet is popular and has shown numerous times it will help reverse the effects of type two diabetes and the pre-diabetic conditions. There really is no reason your doctor or a nutritionist will discourage you from taking on the diabetic diet. Aside from embarking on the diabetic diet, ask your doctor how they feel about the inclusion of herbal supplements in your new regiment!

[fernweh-writes]

Your writing gives me so much life and wholesome vibes! ;-;💕 If you wouldn't mind could you do the slashers with a s/o who loves to make home cooked meals for them.

Ahhh, thank you so much hun <3 As someone who loves to cook and who’s goal in life is to be a spoiled housewife, absolutely.

-Fern

Slashers x S/O who likes to cook

slight nsfw content if you squint

Michael Myers

This man craves a sense of normalcy in his very peculiar life. After all, he was diagnosed with a case of crazy at a young age and ever since no one had made an effort to care about him. One of the main reasons he would ever keep you around would be because you fit the housewife role that he needs wants. You give him the one thing he always wanted that no one else ever could, domesticity.

Michael has a weird schedule and just sort of comes and goes as he pleases. This can make having a hot meal ready quite difficult, but once you begin a steady routine of cooking for him he starts to appear whenever you’re cooking. Well at least most of the time, stalking and killing can keep him very busy sometimes.

He’s not very picky about what you cook, so you have plenty of freedom to make whatever your heart desires. He’s certainly not going to complain. Although, if you remember his favorite meals and cook them for him from time to time he will be extra grateful. His gratitude is often expressed through becoming very handsy with you.

Likes to watch you cook! Again he loves the whole domestic thing and watching you serve him cook for him pleases him. Plus you just look so cute wearing an apron. Also loves how focused you can be. Don’t expect him to help you though, this is your job y/n.

Pretty sure everyone agrees that Michael has a major sweet tooth so if you bake him sweets he decides you’re never going anywhere… ever. He’s keeping you, end of story.

The only thing he ever helps with in the kitchen is licking the bowl when you bake. Snatches the spoon from you as well, he wants all of it.

Bo Sinclair

Another man that is very much into the housewife thing. Like he gets off on it.

We all know Bo isn’t quite right in the head, but we all love him anyways! He wants someone to serve him, after all he needs to be in charge and to have control over everything. This includes controlling the roles within his own home.

The fact that you willingly cook though and actually enjoy cooking sends him over the moon. He knew that he had made the right decision when he decided to keep you. This just makes him further believe that you were meant to be his.

Home cooked meals remind him of the good parts of his childhood. So watching you cook with an apron tied around your waist while humming and just being content with what you’re doing makes him melt. It’s also going to make him more likely to open up and be a little more vulnerable with you. Watching you cook just puts him at ease.

Cooking his favorite meals though is what really gets to him. Especially if you decide to go all out and be cheesy by “setting the mood” with candles and fancy silverware. He’ll make fun of you and pretend to hate it but the lack of malice in his voice gives him away.

You can often find him standing around the kitchen while you cook as well. This started once you asked him to try something once to see if you needed to add anything. Now he won’t stop waiting around for free samples.

Bo decides that winter is his new favorite season. The shop doesn’t have any heating and he also spends a lot of time chasing victims around the woods or down the streets. In other words, he’s spending a lot of time out in the cold weather. Walking into his warm house to find the sweetest wife in Ambrose putting a hot meal on a plate for him makes his day. Don’t be surprised if he begins to bring up his other ideas about how you can keep him warm.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent isn’t obsessed with the whole housewife thing the way that Bo is. He could really care less if his s/o cooked or not after all he had survived this long.

But, Vincent often gets lost in his work. This leads to him losing track of time quite often, so skipping meals isn’t something out of the ordinary. It’s not that he means to it’s just so easy for him to forget unless his stomach starts growling.

He does love that you love to cook for him though. Anytime you bring food down to his workshop so that he doesn’t forget to eat he absolutely melts. He doesn’t know how you could be anymore perfect.

Although he doesn’t expect nor necessarily want his significant other to take care of him he does enjoy the fact that you do so anyway. It shows that you care about him in a way that he hasn’t been cared for in a very long time. Especially enjoys the sentiment of you making him his favorite meals. Not only do you take care of him, you take the time to remember the little things about him! He doesn’t think he could possibly feel more loved.

After the first time he watches you cook, he’s hooked. You just look so cute and content in the kitchen. Seeing you so happy and at ease puts him at ease. It lets him know that you’re happy in Ambrose and that you really do love him.

Unlike most of the other slasher, he will help you clean up the kitchen. You two make quick work of all the dishes since you wash them and he dries them and puts them away. It started off with him washing the dishes until he watched you struggle to place plates at the top of a cabinet. Although, he did enjoy being able to press himself against your back while he helped you.

Thomas Hewitt

The fact you love to cook not only delights Thomas, but helps out Luda Mae as well. With you handling the kitchen, it takes one of the most time consuming chores off of her hands. Allowing her both a chance to rest as well as a chance to finally clean up more of the old house. And we all know whatever makes Momma happy makes Thomas happy.

Honestly though, you’re going to have to take up gardening as well. After all the town is pretty much abandoned and there isn’t much to work with. Hope you know recipes for making human meat taste good…

Once again, we have another slasher who’s ideal life involves a housewife. Thomas just wants his life to be normal for once but he also wants someone to truly care about him. He is always the one taking care of other people in the family so having you to take care of him is the one thing that keeps him going.

Thomas works hard and victims are always putting up a tough fight. Since all of Thomas chores take a lot of physical exertion, he always feels like he’s starving at the end of the day. Luckily he has you! You’ve never failed to have a hot meal waiting for him.

Don’t tell Momma, but he thinks that you’re a better cook.

Please ask him his opinion on the food. Thomas hardly ever gets a say in anything since Hoyt usually gets to call the shots. It may not be much, but you asking him for his input makes him feel important.

Cooking his favorite meals after you know he’s had a hard week just does something to him. Maybe it’s because it shows him that you care, that you pay attention and notice things. Whatever the matter, he definitely enjoys tossing you onto the bed after dinner to show you his gratitude. After all, no good meal is complete without dessert.

Stu Macher

His parents were hardly ever home so Stu learned to fend for himself. This included a lot of unhealthy takeout. You have no idea how he survived off of pizza for so long. Is your cholesterol okay Stu? Killing people and having to chase them down is probably the only reason he ever survived without you.

Lucky for him, now he has you! And you love to cook for him and he enjoys everything you cook. Making him his favorite foods is a quick way to get him excited so please cook them for him after he’s had a hard day.

Expect to have a fancy kitchen and anything your heart could desire to cook with. You two will definitely have a house with one of those walk in pantries so that you have plenty of space for ingredients. If you’re going to spoil him with good food obviously he is going to spoil you by giving you everything you need to do so.

Stu never though he could enjoy cooking, but you quickly show him that it can be fun. This means you can expect him to willingly help out from time to time, whenever he’s in the mood to help. It also means you can leave at ease knowing he won’t be feasting on takeout anytime you go somewhere. At least you thought so until you came home to an unbelievable amount of pizza boxes on the counter.

He is determined to invest in a label maker and put puns on all of your spices like the adorable dork he is.

Billy Loomis

Mr mommy issues absolutely loses his shit when you cook for him. Billy absolutely thrives off of you taking care of him. Once you start cooking for him he won’t allow you to stop, it becomes an expectation.

Billy likes to cling to you while you cook, quite literally. He’ll have his arms wrapped around your waste with his head resting on top of your head/shoulder so that he can watch what you’re doing. Hopefully you can maneuver around the kitchen with him attached to you because he isn’t going anywhere.

After being together for so long, Billy usually tells you when he’s going to “hang out” with Stu. Knowing he wouldn’t be back until very late, you left out food that he could easily heat up. Finding food on the counter with instructions of how long to microwave it melts his heart. Now he’s one hundred percent sure that you’re permanent.

Shows his gratitude more than you would expect him to. He will put away the leftovers while you clean up the kitchen. It may not be much, but it’s one less thing for you to do before going to bed at night.

Don’t worry, he’ll be the one in charge of dessert. It’s another way of showing his gratitude.

Brahms Heelshire

Obviously cooking for him is a requirement so it’s a good thing that you enjoy cooking. But it’s the way you go the extra mile for him that makes him set on keeping you.

You always make him his favorite foods which just fuels his spoiled ass. If you make something you don’t like he’s going to try an throw a tantrum over it. May even go as far as to stay in the walls for a whole day. But when he finds his dinner has gone cold because you had went to bed before he decided to stop being stubborn and come eat he will realize he was in the wrong.

Just make sure to put your foot down, otherwise he will never eat any of his vegetables. He’ll pout about it and complain the whole time but whatever it takes to get him to eat healthy. Eventually he will learn to stop complaining.

No one has ever actually enjoyed doing something for Brahms. He always had to force people into pretending that they cared about him. But you not only took care of him you enjoyed doing it. The home cooked meals you made left him feeling warm and fuzzy on the inside. You put your heart into the things you cooked for him, put your time into making something you would enjoy.

I keep thinking of you hiding something in his food as a way to get him to eat something without him knowing. One day he catches you sneaking in the ingredient while he’s in the walls and he is outraged. How dare you lie to him y/n, after he was such a good boy no less!

If you bake him sweets he will make himself sick from eating so many. You’re his impulse control, please hide the sweets from him so that he doesn’t get sick. It’s for his own good.

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

He’s a very busy man so having you cook for him fills him with joy. There’s nothing like coming home to a hot meal after a day of chasing people down and dealing with idiots like Preston. His injuries can also leave him feeling very drained so it’s good that you know how to make plenty of different meals to make him feel better.

If you ever wanted to learn more about cooking he would 100% pay for classes for you. Could even arrange for them to be during times when he goes on business trips so that you have something to keep you occupied while he’s gone. When he gets back he expects you to show him everything that you learned.

Jesse loves it if you ever bring him food. Granted the first time you showed up at one of the warehouses he freaked out because you could’ve been hurt. Spann makes sure to reassure him that she knew you were coming and arranged for you to be kept safe the whole way there and back.

I can also see Spann being flattered if you brought extra food for her. It saves her time and allows her to get more done within a timely manner. Also means she doesn’t have to worry about everything falling apart while she tries to get food.

Watching you cook does something to Jesse and he’s not against picking you up and carrying you upstairs. He can think of something much better to eat than whatever you’re cooking. This has also led to the smoke alarms going off more than once.

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

could you write avengers x ocd!reader? 🥺 ty

I’d love to! I feel like OCD is such a stigmatized disorder, and I’ve been diagnosed myself. To make it more inclusive, I’ve done some extra research. This piece includes a few triggers like extreme Germaphobia, panic attacks, sensory symmetry, my safe numbers are anything divisible by five, my favorites are 10. 50, and 100, so for the sake of this sort, those are the numbers I’ll be using.

You were diagnosed with OCD at the age of 12

When you weren’t on your medication, your symptoms were pretty severe

You joined The Avengers at 13, and it’s been 2 years, so you were 15

You’d learned how to cope really well, but your symptoms fluctuated, and were often too much to handle without meds

Only Fury knew, and you asked him to keep it in between the two of you

He obliged, but advised you tell them eventually to prevent incidents

One day, you needed to go get your prescription refilled, but you were below the legal driving age

Instead of risking the reveal of your well guarded secret and asking someone to just take you to the pharmacy, which was, in no way, waking, flying, or running distance from the Compound

You decided to just suffer and get your prescription when you were in the city

You spent the next agonizing days in your room in fear of the rest of The Avengers thinking your routines, counting, taping, and whatnot was you just being a crazy teenager overreacting

Little did you know, all the time you’d been spending in your room was suspicious to the rest of the team and they began hypothesizing whatever you were doing in there for such a long amount of time

“I bet you she isn’t even in there!” -Sam

“She could be on her period or something.” -Tony

“Ew!” -Peter

“First of all, Tony, that’s inappropriate, secondly, Peter, don’t be immature it’s natural, thirdly, I’m with Sam she could be on one of her “teenage escapades”!” -Natasha

“What’re we taking about?” -Steve

“We’re trying to come up with reasons (Y/N) hasn’t left her room in a few days.” -Bucky

“Oh, my money’s on her being on her period.” -Steve

“EXACTLY.” -Tony

“S T E V E, NO.” -Natasha

“Instead of thinking about what she’s doing, why doesn’t someone check on her?” -Bruce

“Great. Thanks for volunteering Bruce!” -Tony

“But I didn’t-“ -Bruce

“I’ll go. I’m her favorite.” -Peter

“Only because you’re her age, spiderling.” -Tony

Peter went to your room, you didn’t respond, still worried about their judgement

“(Y/N), could you please let me in? I’m worried about you. Are you ok?” -Peter

On the verge of a panic attack “I’m ok! Please go away!” -you

“Ok, but can you come out later today? Please?”

“I’ll think about it.”

You were left alone until dinner

“(Y/N)! Dinner! I’ve got your favorite! If you come out you can have some!” -Bucky

Feeling better you decided to come out, as your symptoms had calmed down

You came and ate with the team, and they could tell your behavior was different

You washed your plate and silverware 5 times before you served yourself

You were counting things, and trying to tap things inconspicuously, which wasn’t working

You looked really grossed out when Sam sneezed and when Peter double-dipped the salsa (If you double-dip, and it isn’t your personal sauce/salsa/guacamole/etc. ew what’re you doing)

Natasha finally decided to break the tension

“(Y/N), why have you been in your room all week? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Then why were you in your room? I bet on it being your period.” -Tony

“Dude, seriously? I wasn’t on my period. I’m fine.” -you snapped

“Are you sure?” -Steve

“I’m sure. Thanks for dinner.”

You went back to your room, and you already felt yourself getting riled up again. This was going to be a very long night

“She’s not ok.” -Peter

“Yeah, no duh. I’ll go check on her.” -Steve

Steve straight up walked into your room and found you in the middle of your bedtime routine

“Ever heard of privacy?” -you

“Nope. What’re you doing? And seriously, are you ok?” -Steve

He had good intentions, and you were done with the “I’m emotionally stable” charade, so you told the truth

He looked confused, and you immediately regretted E V E R Y T H I N G

“We can refill it tomorrow, I’ll drive you. You should’ve told us! We care about you and we wanna know what’s going on in your life. How about you tell the rest of the team?” -Steve

“Ughhhh fine.” -you

You told the rest of the team, and you watched as they exchanged money. Had they been betting on what you were doing?

“You guys are stupid.” -you

“We know.” -Sam

“Shut up Sam. You don’t need to hide stuff from us (Y/N).” -Natasha

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want you guys to think I’m crazy or just being a moody teenager or something.”

“Hey, having OCD doesn’t make you crazy! If you ever need anyone to talk to, we’re always here.” -Tony

“Thanks guys. I’m going to bed now though. Nighhhttt.”

You left all of them in the common room, and you went to bed

You were thankful for their kind words and happy you could go get a refill

They always checked on you when you were feeling anxious

They could somehow tell when something that wasn’t OCD friendly was bothering you, and it was always fixed

BONUS YAYYYYAYAYAYAY

“So that was unexpected.” -Loki

“When in the hell did you get here?!?” -Steve

“Been here the whole time. Night!” -Loki

“Man that was a lot though.” Strange

“When did YOU get here?!?” -Steve

“20 minutes ago. Anyway, goodnight.” -Strange

“Ok, who else is here that wasn’t here for dinner?” -Steve

“Me!” -Zemo

“YOU’RE IN PRISON WHAT?!?”

Shoot this kinda turned into a story sorry guys

[blessednereid]

First Line Tryouts

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Mentions/Warnings: Implied Smut, making out, cursing, eating/food mentions, mentions dead bodies, slasher film mention, dementia mention, slight domesticality(?)

Word Count: <4,200

A/N: This took so long im so sorry, tried to sum up the events of ep 1, while adding some isaac moments! Enjoy! LMK If I need to add anymore tw’s or cw’s.

Taglist: @rogershoe Dm me to be added to the taglist. 

~---~---~---~---~

There was a week left until your second semester began. Isaac was determined to thank you for everything you had done for him since he told you about his dad. 

He enlisted Stiles and a reluctant Lydia to help him with the planning. Isaac was going to make a picnic basket with your favorite foods. After that, Stiles would drive him to Lookout Point, and Lydia would take you there right after he gave her the go-ahead to let her know it was ok to leave. 

Lydia would take you to the mall so that Isaac could prepare the picnic basket. He had bought assorted fruits, a platter of ham and cheese pinwheels, passion-fruit fruit champagne, your favorite desserts, and your favorite chips. He packed a picnic blanket as well as two smaller ones so that you both could lay under the stars and watch them dance. 

After everything was packed, Stiles drove him to the point in the woods, and two miles away from his destination, he called Lydia and gave her the signal. 

When he reached the peak, before he could do anything, Stiles scolded him.

"Hey scarf," he barked. Isaac turned his head.

"Don't try anything with my sister tonight, alright? You may not be in the house, but I will still be watching everything?"

Isaac paused. "Aren't you going back to Scott's house?" 

"I have eyes everywhere, Lahey," he stated simply before waltzing away.

~---~---~---~---~

When you arrived, Isaac had everything set up, the picnic cloth was laid down on a flat chunk, the colorful plastic champagne glasses he had bought were carefully placed down on top of the plates, 

When you arrived, Isaac had already laid everything out. The picnic blanket was spread out on a flat chunk of land, and the ceramic plates sat on top of it. There was a bundle of spoons and forks, knives, and colorful plastic champagne glasses for the both of you. 

"I-saac, haha," you chuckled.

He bowed. "Good evening, madame. How can I serve you today?" He walked over to you and led you to the setting. 

"Isaac, you didn't have to do all this, you know?" 

"I know, but you've done so much for me recently, and I wanted to thank you."

You looked at him fondly, and he stared back at you before breaking away to grab the fruit. He fed you a strawberry, and after that, you both took turns tossing berries into the air and trying to catch them. 

~---~---~---~---~

After you both were done eating, Isaac packed all the remaining food (which was a lot) into the basket and tossed you a cover. He pulled you closer to him once you were wrapped in the blanket and laid down to watch the stars with his favorite person in the world. 

"That's Orion's belt, right there," you thought out loud. 

"That's the big dipper then," 

"How do you know so many constellations?" Isaac questioned, and you frowned. 

"I- uh…" 

"What's wrong?" He looked at you with worry.

"It was something me and my mom did before she died. She would go out to the woods with me—" you paused."—and she would show me where all the stars were. Stiles was never interested. My obsession with finding the stars became so big she decided to get me a telescope and a big book of all the constellations." 

"Oh, so I'm guessing it's a touchy subject?" 

You laughed. "It's a subject that brings up memories. To be honest, I haven't tried stargazing since my mom's death. This was nice." 

"You never told me much about your mom…" 

"And you never told me about yours," you hit back. 

"Touché." 

You went first. "Before everything, my mom was…in all aspects… perfect. Every day when we came home from school, she would have lunch ready, even if we already ate, just some chips and cookies on the table for Stiles and me." 

You smiled. "Mom would take us outside to the backyard and play soccer with us, us two against her. I think she would go easy on us." 

"When she got diagnosed, she started becoming less… tolerant of us. She would yell for the tiniest things,  and they didn't hurt me as much because Dad would always remind us that she didn't mean it, but I guess it always hurt Stiles more—"

"How do you mean?" Isaac asked.

"He was always a mommy's boy. One night we went to visit her at the hospital, I went to the vending machine to get snacks for Stiles and me, and he was gone. When he came back, he was crying nonstop. I kept trying to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn't tell me.  The next day it was like he just forgot about it." 

You both sat there in silence for a while longer. 

"My mom…. My mom was always working. She had her own business making soaps and perfumes and stuff like that." 

"She would always ask—" he gulped. "—she would ask my brother and me to help her with her orders. We would always make a mess, so after we were done, she made bubble baths for us." He giggled at the memory. "When she died, I guess we all changed a bit." 

"I got a little shier, Camden got more impulsive, Dad just lost his filter. He put more effort into making sure we were disciplined." He saw your eyes squint. "He didn't hit us back then. He just had stricter rules." 

You pulled him closer to your chest, and you guys just stayed there, looking at the stars, and feeling, even more, closer to each other than before.

You broke the silence.

"Isaac…" 

"Yes, Y/N?"

"I love you…" 

He leaned down to your face and pecked your lips.

"I love you too," he smiled.

~---~---~---~---~

"Y/n!" Isaac was trying to wake you up. You had fallen asleep watching Nightmare on Elm Street. You had been desensitized to all the blood and gore because you and stiles would always stay up late and watch slasher films. This was when your dad worked extra shifts at the Sheriff's station, and your mom was at the hospital.

"N/n, Wake up!" 

He grabbed your ringing phone and pulled it up to your ear, despite knowing he would face your wrath for doing that later on. Stiles had just called you for the 4th time that night, and you weren't waking up.

When you still wouldn't wake up, he did the only thing he could think of, as illogical as it was. He laid down flat on his back and rolled over, pushing you off the bed. You woke with a start. 

"ISAAC, WHAT THE HELL!!"

"Stiles has called you 4 times in 5 minutes, and you told me to wake you up whenever someone calls you…" He fake-pouted. 

Your expression softened because you couldn't resist his cobalt eyes, but you were still angry. You answered the phone and shouted at Stiles to release your frustration. 

"Stiles, what the hell, you're across the hall. Did you really have to call?"

"Hurry up and get ready, Dad just went out, and we need to go get Scott."

"Why do we have to follow dad? It's his job."

"Someone found a dead body, but half of it is missing,"

"Ok, I'm coming," You said while putting on your jeans. 

"Oh, and leave the golden retriever."

"His name is Isaac, not 'golden retriever,' Stiles!" you scolded. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, hurry up!"

You finished putting on Isaac's hoodie and turned to face him. 

"I gotta go, love."

He pouted. "Why can't I go with you?"

You went to give him a hug. "We should go with the least amount of people possible., so we don't get caught…" you lied. 

"Is Scott going?" He was always able to tell when you were lying. He knew all your tells and your poker face before you were even dating. 

"Fine, It's Stiles."

"So, I realized. Do I really look like a golden retriever?"

You shrugged and said in a pitchy voice, "An adorable golden retriever?" 

He sighed. 

"Be safe, and come back before midnight, please? I don't wanna go to sleep without you…"

"Nervous for tomorrow?"

"It's the start of first-line tryouts. I really wanna make it this year,"

"I'm sure that you'll make it Isaac, you are one of the most hand-eye coordinated people I know, and at every game, I will be there to cheer you guys on!"

 He smiled at your statement and kissed you. 

"Be sa—"

"Y/N, Hurry up!" Stiles shouted from downstairs. 

~---~---~---~---~

You stayed in the car while Stiles was getting Scott, silently cursing him for not allowing Isaac to come but going to get Scott. 

Scott and Stiles got out of the house and piled into the car. 

"Next time you wanna leave the 'golden retriever,' Stiles, we're also leaving the poodle," you angrily intoned.

Scott took up an offended expression. "Poodle?"

"Would you rather chihuahua?"

"Nevermind..."

"No, we're not leaving Scott. He's my best friend," Stiles said defensively.

"Oh yeah? Isaac is my boyfriend, yet he couldn't come!" 

"My car, my choice of guests."

"Fuck off, Miechyvslaw!"

~---~---~---~---~

"We're seriously doing this?"

"Obviously," you stated simply.

He started driving the car, and they headed to the woods where the search party for the body and the other half of it would be located. 

"You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town," Stiles said.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow."

"Right, cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort," Stiles sassed.

"No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making the first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one."

You interrupted their bickering. "Just out of curiosity, do either of you know what half of the body we're even looking for?"

"Uhhh-" Stiles stuttered.

"And uh- what if whoever killed the body is still out there," Scott questioned.

"Also, something I did not think about."

"It's comforting to know that you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," Scott stated. 

Stiles and Scott continued bickering, but soon, you saw a flashlight.

"Shit! Hide!" you warned, but Stiles kept going. You leaped forward, trying to grab his shirt and pull him back, but your dad caught you.

"Hang on. Hang on. These two delinquents belong to me."

Stiles sighed. 

"I told you to hide, you brat!" you whispered to him.

"Daaaaad!" He enunciated. "How are you doing?"

"So, do you, uh, listen into all my phone calls?"

"Not the boring ones," Stiles said. 

"So, where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Wh-who Scott? Scott's home, he said before continuing to ramble.

Your dad had called out for Scott, and when he didn't respond, dragged you and Stiles back to the Jeep. 

~---~---~---~---~

You went back to your room once you got to the house and found Isaac asleep on the bed.

"Izzie!" You grabbed a plush pillow from beside him and whacked him softly with it. 

You went home that night, not knowing where Scott was or what had happened to him while worrying about what Melissa would do to you if Scott got bitten by a coyote and she found out you lured him out there.

He stirred but didn't wake. You groaned and moved beside him.

"Isaac?" you shrilled. "Isaac, you were supposed to wait for me to come back!!"

You shook his body left and right until he woke up groggily.

"N/n?"

He fully opened his eyes and groaned at the comfort that it was you.

"You scared me!" he complained.

You began shuffling towards him and running your hands down his covered pectorals. "Aww… what can I do to make you feel better?"

"Anything?" he said before sucking in a breath.

"Anything, baby," You nodded. 

He pulled you onto his lap and started kissing you passionately, your lips meshing together. He trailed his lips from yours to your cheekbones, then to your jawline, nibbling slightly. You moved your hips forcefully against his, and he brought one hand down to your waist.

"Hey, is this ok?"

You nodded vehemently. 

He pushed your hips back and forth along his while leaving dark red marks towards the base of your neck and your collarbone. He sucked a hickey onto a pulse point, making you let out a moan, which you tried muffling by pressing your lips together. 

He brought his hands to the hem of your shirt and tugged slightly before looking up at you. You replaced his hands and pulled your shirt off of your torso. 

He placed open-mouthed kisses onto the tops of your breasts, causing you to throw your head back in delight. He brought his hand back to the small of your back and shuffled you forwards on his lap. 

He turned you over onto your back and continued to kiss from your chest up. He stood on his knees in front of you and pulled his shirt off of his body. He placed one more brief kiss on your lips before gripping your thighs and lowering down your body.

~---~---~---~---~

Stiles drove you, Isaac, and Scott to school the next day. When you got out of the car, Scott and Stiles were talking about a bite that Scott had gotten when he went to the woods, but he assured you that you wouldn't face Melissa's wrath. 

When you saw Lydia amongst the crowd, you dragged Isaac all the way to her. Lydia had never liked Isaac, feeling like her best friend could do much better than someone who wouldn't even talk to her(you) for extensive periods of time. 

"Hey Lyds!" you said with Isaac's face buried in your neck. He was not fond of Lydia either, not that she had done anything, but he had picked up on her apathy towards him and just decided he would do the same. 

"Hey Y/N! Isaac." You all walked into the building and headed for your respective classes. 

~---~---~---~---~

You had English first, and the teacher was rambling about the dead body found in the woods. 

A familiar faced walked into the room, and you almost squealed. It was your godsister, Allison Argent. You knew that her family was moving to  Beacon Hills, but you hadn't known when they would be arriving. 

Chris Argent, Allison's dad, was your mother's best friend in high school. When she gave birth to you and Stiles, she made Chris your godfather.

You quietly clapped your hands at her appearance. She smiled at you before taking the seat diagonally across from you and right behind Scott. You noticed how when he turned around to give her a pencil, he looked highly flustered. 

Before you could point this out and tease him about it, your teacher began to talk about the novel you were reading as a class.

~---~---~---~---~

When you got out of class, you decided to introduce Lydia to Allison. 

When you both approached Allison, she squealed and ran to give you a hug, almost causing you to stumble. You hugged her back for a good five seconds before letting her go. 

"That jacket is absolutely killer! Where'd you get it?" Lydia asked the brunette.

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco."

"And, you are my new best friend!" Lydia said before greeting her boyfriend, Jackson, who had come up behind her. 

"Hey? What about me? Already replacing me with my godsister?" you asked before you felt two slender arms wrap around your waist.

"Never!" Lydia smiled. "We can all be friends." 

You could hear a girl talking about Lydia or Allison or both, and you decided you would defend your friends. 

You walked over to where she was talking to Stiles and Scott.

"Hey, what's going on over here?"

"Oh, Audrey here was asking what Allison did to already be hanging out with your exclusive clique."

"Uh, nothing? She's just Allison." You said, looking at Scott and Stiles but directing it towards Aubrey. You then turned on your heels and walked away.

You had found that your friends had told Allison about the upcoming party and were just about to head to the lacrosse practice for the day.

~---~---~---~---~

You gave Isaac a good luck kiss before he went out to the field, and Lydia looked at you weirdly.

"What is it?" you asked, rolling your eyes.

"Nothing, Nothing."

"Why do you have such a problem with my boyfriend?"

She turned to look at you. "I don't know, maybe it's because you caught feelings when he hadn't said a single word to you for a week and didn't for another week after you first kissed him"

"It could be that when you asked him out and actually confessed your feelings, he waited a week to give you a response and made you think that he was rejecting you, which made you cry?"  

You rubbed your temples. "Lydia, I explained all this to you. He's a shy guy. He just doesn't talk much to people, and he thought I was playing a joke on him."

She shook her head. "Mark my words, Y/N, he's going to end up breaking your heart, and when he does, I'll be left to pick up the pieces."

You groaned. "Allison, does Isaac look like someone who would hurt me?"

"No? He looks like… He looks like a golden retriever!"

The three of you burst out laughing, and Lydia promised to try and be tolerant of Isaac.

Suddenly, it was Scott's turn to try guarding the goal. He allowed the first shot through before finding his footing and blocking the rest of the throws. 

"Who is that?" Your godsister asked. 

"Hmm… I'm not sure who he is," Lydia said questioningly.

You scoffed. "That is Scott McCall. Stiles' best friend. Why?"

"He's in our English class. He seems like he's pretty good," she said sagely.

She changed the subject. "Speaking of Stiles, how is he? I haven't talked to him since I got back."

"He's-" you tried answering but stopped short. "Wooh! Go, Isaac!"

He smiled at you before going to shoot lacrosse balls at the goalie.

On the final day of tryouts, you and Isaac had done stretches, though he didn't know why, and they had run laps around the field before practice had started.

The coach started talking to the players, and you, Lydia, and Allison sat in the stands. By the time practice was over, Scott had made the first line, but Stiles and Isaac didn't. To cheer them up, you had taken them to their favorite to-go restaurant and bought dessert for them.

~---~---~---~---~

It was a Friday night. You were particularly sad, not only because Isaac couldn't go with you, but because Isaac had his weekly dinner with his dad today. So, he wouldn't even be there when you fell asleep. 

Scott and Stiles had gotten into a fight earlier, so he wasn't going to the party. This left Jackson to drive you, who was taking Lydia to the party. This didn't make you too happy, seeing as how Jackson was a self-entitled bastard who got his status from his family and isn't grateful for any of it. 

You didn't understand how Lydia had decided it would be a good idea to date him. But, you knew that the same way she couldn't change your mind about Isaac, she wouldn't change your mind about Jackson. 

You wore a pink satin body-con dress that reached your mid-thigh. Isaac had picked it out for you when he realized he wouldn't have been able to attend the party. He was ok with it being as short because he knew all the guys there would remember what happened to Garrett Ferrero after he started hitting on you at a party. He had to get nose surgery because Isaac had broken it, and his nose swelled up so large, he didn't come to school until it shrunk.

You paired it with opaque tights with fishnets on top and a pair of red, 3-inch, cut-out heels. As for makeup, you had outlined your lips with a black lip liner and smeared a cherry red lipstick over it. You applied minimal foundation and went for a nude eyeshadow look. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom in your outfit, Isaac nearly went feral. He lightly kissed the expanse of your neck, knowing you would kill him if he messed up your makeup, and he ended up backing you both into a wall. 

You had to swat him away after a few seconds of this affair because you had to leave soon, and so did he, albeit reluctantly. You put a black jean jacket on top of your outfit before heading downstairs. 

He left your house a few minutes before you did, but just before you left, Stiles pulled you aside.

"Hey, Y/N, just watch out for Scott today, and especially Allison." Stiles was overprotective of both of you. Before Allison and her family began moving around, she was like a sister to both of you. You three did almost everything together. 

"Stiles, what's going on?"

He sighed. "Ok, this is going to be hard to explain, but you have to go. So I'm going to give you the brief version right now and explain later."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue. 

"The night Scott got bit by that 'coyote'... it wasn't a coyote. It was a wolf, and wolf hairs were reported on the autopsy of the dead body. Scott has been experiencing heightened senses, and he's been stronger. Y/N, he hasn't needed his inhaler all week."

Your eyes widened. You didn't know what to say.

"So… you think he's a werewolf."

"Better to be safe and absurd than sorry and sad. Tonight's a full moon, and he just wouldn't cancel that date. Just look out for them, you know?"

You bobbed your head up and down vigorously. 

You left the house, and outside were Jackson and Lydia, in the front seat of his Porsche. It was a nice ride but a bit overly embellished for someone who only just got his license.

 ~---~---~---~---~

Later at the party, you had last seen Allison and Scott as they were dancing. You were dancing with your friend, Marya Cullen. She was a freshman, so she didn't really know most of your other friends. You had met her through your job at Forever 21, and you instantly clicked. 

She was really drunk, so you called another one of her friends and asked them to take her home. Marya had given her friends a list of the people allowed to drive her home if this happened. 

It was just as you were putting Marya in the backseat, you saw Scott walking away from her, dazed. While that happened, a mysterious guy who looked much older than you were approaching Allison. 

"Hey, I'm her friend. I got it, thanks!" 

You walked with Allison back to her house after grabbing all your belongings and immersed in conversation, mostly about how weird Stiles was being. Stiles was driving in his Jeep when he saw you coming from Allison's house. You got into the Jeep, and you both went home. 

When you got there, you changed into your pajamas and laid down onto the surface of a cold bed. You grabbed your thickest pillow and pulled it into your arms, trying to create some semblance of a feeling of Isaac laying down with you.

~---~---~---~---~

You awoke to bright sunlight and a buzzing phone by your head. Isaac had been calling you to ask you to let him in the house. You realized it was high time that he gets a key to the front door. 

You went downstairs to greet your boyfriend, and you noticed that he had brought Starbucks. You almost caused him to fall to the floor had he not caught you in time. He set you on the floor and kissed your lips before heading to the kitchen.

He had gotten your regular order, as well as your favorite drink, and he had gotten his order as well. 

You guys say down to just eat and relax.

He took a sip of his iced coffee before saying anything.

"My dad wants me to work at the graveyard," he said, pensive.

You choked on your food. "What?" 

"Well, he said he's cutting off my allowance." 

"So he said I can either earn it by working at the graveyard or stay broke." 

"That's fine, darling?" 

"I know, but I still want to get a job to save so once I turn 18, I can move out. And, he is willing to let me choose my own hours, or really just give me hours that don't interfere with lacrosse practice."

You gave him a solemn look and whined. "But that means we won't have as much cuddle time?" 

"He shouldn't even be in your room," your dad said, approaching you from behind.

"Hi, dad."

"Good morning, Mr. Stilinsk—"

"Isaac," your dad interjected. "It's fine. You can call me Noah." 

Isaac smiled. 

-------fin--------

[ohhipstaplease]

Comfort

Since the culmination of the war, Naruto and Hinata had grown closer. His hand always reached out towards hers for comfort, even when he didn’t notice. Even when he knew he shouldn’t. It was selfish, self-indulgent...

He just couldn’t understand why she was always in his head, even when she wasn’t supposed to be.

For Naruhina week 2021 @nhweek | April 14: Hand / “You’re in my head, even when you’re not supposed to be

Post-War | Canon-Compliant | Rated T+ | 1K+ Words | Ao3

It happened all of a sudden, the stream of tears rushing down his face. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until Hinata reached over and wiped his cheek. He gently grabbed her hand, and in a beat of courage, she interlaced her fingers in his.

Since the culmination of the war, the pair had gotten closer. His hand always reached out towards hers for comfort, even when he didn’t notice. Even when he knew he shouldn’t. It was selfish, self-indulgent...

He just couldn’t understand why she was always in his head, even when she wasn’t supposed to be.

“I-I’m okay” He murmured, hoping he didn’t wake anyone in the Hyuga household.

It was late after all, too late for him to be visiting. But, alas, he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He was unable to do anything but play what had happened in the war on a loop in his head. His throbbing arm a physical reminder that he was just not okay, even as much as he pretended to be.

“Naruto-Kun...”

He shook his head, “Just let me...just let me sit here with you. That’s all I need.”

Naruto wanted to let his mind go blank, to take advantage of the wave of calm that washed over him as he felt her skin against his, but he kept wondering why it was that this was the only way he found repose from his scary thoughts.

He thought back to what he had discussed with Shikamaru a few days back.

As he laid in the grass, the sun warm upon his face, his observant friend had made a quip about how all Naruto did was spend his time with Hyuga heiress, and whether or not he was going to make a move.

Naruto, being Naruto, furrowed his brow and reassured Shikamaru that he and Hinata were just friends. Even so, though, he just didn’t quite understand what he felt for her. All he knew was that he wanted to be near her at all times.

Shikamaru didn’t bother looking at him as he smirked and said, “You’re like a duckling, Naruto. You imprinted on her.”

“A duckling?” Naruto sighed, “Sometimes I really don’t know what to make of the shit you say.”

“Everything that happened...it was...really messed up, to say the least,” Shikamaru took a cigarette from the pouch on his side and lit it, taking a long drag before continuing, “Hinata was there for you...she’s been there by you through it all. It’s only natural that you look to her for safety and comfort, especially now.”

Naruto took a breath, “You’ve been reading Sai’s psychology books haven’t you? He tried to diagnose me the other day too.”

Shikamaru shook his head, “All I’m saying is what you’re feeling is normal. If being by her side is what’s keeping you steady, maybe you shouldn’t question it. I don’t think you’re in a state of mind to be working all of that out.”

“What would “all of that” be?”

“When you’re ready you’ll know.”

Naruto breathed in and tried to compose himself, but it seemed that this time, the tears just didn’t want to stop flowing. Between what he felt for Hinata and the weight of everything that had happened six months ago, his mind and body were about to give out.

He thought he would’ve been okay by now. His arm was healing, his wounds were nearly non-existent. Battle scars were fading upon his skin, just as they were on hers. So he didn’t understand why it was that when nighttime fell and he closed his eyes, all he saw was death.

Wouldn’t his mind heal as well?

“Naruto-Kun?”

He looked up to meet her gaze, inquisitive eyes asking the question she couldn’t quite seem to muster the courage to ask. Still, she managed to finally utter, “D-did you have that dream again?”

“Hinata...I—”

A door opened behind them, startling them both. Still, though, their hands remained linked upon Hinata’s kitchen table, as a teary-eyed Naruto looked up to see Hiashi Hyuga, the head of the Hyuga clan, standing directly behind Hinata.

The elder Hyuga said nothing, simply nodded, and continued on his way back to his room. Naruto swore he saw a glimmer of sadness in his eyes as well.

It seemed to be that way for everyone, regardless of the fact the war had been won.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “Your dad must be tired of seeing me around.”

She smiled sweetly and assured him, “Never. You know everyone enjoys seeing you around here.”

“I wish I could come around more often. This is the only place I can really get away from it all, you know?”

“You’re always welcome here, Naruto-Kun.”

Naruto breathed out in relief. Her words the only thing he needed to bring him back from the brink of despair. He needed to remember that he wasn’t alone anymore, he didn’t have to suffer through whatever it was he was going through by himself. Hinata had nursed him through the worst of it, laughed with him through the best. Fought with him, even when he told her not to risk her life for him.

She was his comfort, his joy, his everything. Even if he didn’t see it, even if he didn’t understand it.

“You know, it’s weird,” He sniffled, “Ever since the war, I just can’t stop thinking about you.”

“W-what?” She blushed and looked away, unable to meet his stare.

“I don’t know, you’re just...in my head...even when you’re not supposed to be. I think I’m depending on you too much, Hinata. Sometimes...I can’t even go to bed until I hear your voice.”

“O-oh.”

“Isn’t that too much to ask for from a friend?”

Slowly Hinata had been getting redder, her face nearly aflame at this point. Still, though, he didn’t understand why. She had always been a stuttering mess in the past anyways, maybe he had just taken her by surprise.

“Naruto...that’s what friends are for,” She managed to say, squeezing his hand tightly, “Whenever you have a bad dream, or a horrible day, or if you just need me to help you run an errand, you can count on me. You...you know that.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “Of course.”

“D-do you ever feel this way?”

Hinata cleared her throat, “I think we all do.”

“Will it ever pass?”

She traced a scar that ran from his wrist to his palm and bit her lip as she said, “I think in time...it’ll hurt a little less. Like these wounds, like your arm. But it’ll heal...at least, I hope.”

“Do you miss him?” He asked, referring to Neji. He still couldn’t bear to say his name.

“Every day.”

Naruto stayed quiet for a second, letting it all kind of sink it. Finally, he managed to tell her, “If you ever feel sad, tell me. Okay? I want to be there for you like you are for me.”

He wanted her to find comfort in him as well. It was the least he could offer. Really, at the moment, it was all he had to give her.

“Okay.”

“But I mean it, Hinata. None of that hiding your feelings crap, okay?” He chuckled as he wiped his still damp cheeks.

She laughed as well, wanting to reassure him, “I promise I’ll tell you.”

“Good...now...any chance there’s some of that sweet bread you had lying around yesterday?”

“Appetite is back?”

“I’m starving.”

“I’ll fix you something,” She said as she got up and squeezed his shoulder. She’d leave it at that, letting him feel what he had to and treating him like he wasn’t broken.

He would never be able to repay her for everything she’d done for him, but he’d try.

“Hinata?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“It’s just bread, Naruto-Kun,” She said, serving him a slice on a white plate.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

He wanted to explain, but didn’t know where to start. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, what he felt. He was a jumble of confusion.

“Never mind,” He mumbled, grabbing the bread and biting into it, “Don’t worry about it.”

One day he’d figure it all out. Until then, he’d just keep trying to make it through.

[poptod]

Hey, I have an ask for Elliot struggling with disordered eating. Love you for keeping up with the gender neutral fics, not too many of those around.

notes: this was a little harder for me because i currently struggle with a disorder like that and at first i didnt want to do it, but i think itll be good for me WC: 1.3k

Warning: Obviously, this has eating disorders and general bad stuff going on. Read at your own risk, you know the deal.

+

Every now and then, just every now and then, the signs start to pop up. They worry you incessantly for about a week, but they go away fast. Things return to normal. He shows no remembrance of his strange behavior, or at least he denies his behavior was strange in the first place. It keeps coming up though––he'll stop eating, stops dead and claims he's too busy to remember. He stretches his hands towards the ceiling and his sweatshirt rides up, and you can't help but to notice the visibility of his ribcage. The accent of his collar bones. Usually the sight of them has you yearning to kiss him––now though, sickness wells in your stomach, and it feels as though you're taking on his hunger so he won't have to experience it. A buffer between Elliot and the real world.

You can't really take him to a doctor though. It's not a diagnosable problem, it's just––it worries you. Elliot maintains a pretty standard form of body throughout these waves of eating habits, so there shouldn't be an issue. He has it under control, according to him, but sometimes it gets bad, and you have no idea why. Does he have body issues? Is he legitimately just forgetting to eat?

The knife in your hands––freshly sharpened that morning––easily peels away the skin of the round pear, large in your outstretched palm. Generally you try to stay away from knives, as you have a nasty habit of frequently slipping up and cutting yourself, but your strokes are slow and methodical. A long line of yellow peel falls from the pear in one, curly stroke that you maintain for the whole of the fruit. When you cut it into slices juice runs down your fingers. You lick it away and clean everything up, only then taking the plate to Elliot, who is typing furiously on the computer.

Not once have you ever known what the hell it is he does on his computer all day. He even talks about it, but you just don't understand all the tech jargon, and he's surprisingly alright with that. To him, it means he can talk and talk about everything and you'll never leave for the horrid things he's done.

"Not hungry," he says, and his unused voice is barely audible above the clicking keyboard.

"You also haven't eaten in two days," you say softly, pushing the plate ever so slightly closer to him.

Two days––you counted, watched him carefully, but he didn't notice. He never does.

He says nothing and doesn't take any of the fruit. They're special, too––you had to go down to the Asian market to get them, and that's an hour drive in the city traffic. More than anything you feel useless––useless to help him, to understand him, useless to him. You could cry, but you don't. Not in front of him. He's never seen you cry and you're not about to let him see.

Instead you leave him there with the plate, lock yourself in the bathroom for about five minutes, and come back out.

Still hasn't taken one, you think to yourself, counting the number of slices on the plate.

Fourty-two minute TV episode later, there's still twelve slices. Sneaking out of his apartment to return to your own, still twelve slices, beginning to yellow. Your teeth grind yet you do nothing, which is what you usually do, which is what you hate yourself for.

Next time you bake chocolate chip cookies. He has a single bite of one but you nearly cry (again) with the amount of relief you feel. So the next time you make sugar cookies, cut them into fun shapes and decorate them with colored, homemade icing. You give him the heart colored red and blue––he eats the whole thing. Granted, it is one of the smallest cookies, but he ate the whole thing.

You grin like a maniac while mixing up a batch of banana bread, the mildly sour-yet-sweet scent reaching you as you hum. If you can find the right baking pan in your bag, you can make it into a cake, with sweet frosting you're sure he'll love.

"What are you doing," he asks in a monotone voice. You whirl around, finding him on the other side of the small kitchen.

"Banana cake, or bread, depending on if I can make the icing," you say.

"... why."

He doesn't even say it as a question. He says it as a statement.

"I don't have anything better to do," you lie. Actually, you're skipping out on a lot of work, all of which you will have to make up on your vacation days. Telling him straight out why you're baking all these things will only make him stop eating, you know that. 

After that he returns to his computer. Later that night you serve up the banana cake––which you manage to make a great frosting for––and the two of you watch an old 50's movie on sex education. He doesn't eat the whole slice, but he eats about half and that satisfies you.

"My cupboard is getting full," he notices one day, talking to you from across the kitchen. His head is stuck in the cupboard while you continue to stir the mix in your metal bowl.

Since the bowl is in your hands, you scooch over to him, looking over his shoulder. The four levels are mostly empty except the presence of plastic containers, all of which containing your various creations. You hadn't checked, but none of them are smaller, an indicator that he still hasn't eaten without you watching him.

"You should take your stuff home," he suggests.

"I think you need it more than I do," you say, and he has no rebuttal. He straightens his back and scans the cupboard once more before looking to you.

"You're a good baker," he says, "but I don't like cookies."

"Good thing I'm making pie then."

He eats half of the slice you give him, and none of the Chinese food you order for takeout, much like all the previous nights. You kiss his cheek before you leave and he lets you––stands still as you lean forward, doesn't flinch when you touch.

"At least keep drinking water," you say, desperate to reach him in some way.

"I know," he says, and shuts the door.

Your spine is pressed tight against the outer wall of his apartment, knees beginning to ache as they're held fierce to your chest. The stinging sensation in your nose reaches your eyes, forming tears that you despise, ones that come in big, fat rolls that mess up the fabric of your sweatshirt. He won't ever listen, will he? He won't ever take care of himself. Why doesn't he care about himself?

Probably because he's too worried about the world. There are things he does that you will never understand––both on computer and within the mind, and despite how many times he's talked about it, you don't get just how much effort he puts into helping the world. All that strength, all that fierceness, it pours into his work and leaves nothing left for himself but sickness in his stomach.

So why doesn't he care about himself?

He doesn't have the energy. It's spent, used on the world, on the poor, on the needy, on the desperate, on those clawing their way through a world that hates them, and on you.

You're so busy trying to take care of him you don't notice the little things he does––buying new ingredients for your creations, cleaning up the spots you miss, paying your parking tickets when you forget, washing the clothes you accidentally leave at his apartment. You don't need someone looking after you, but it's so nice you hardly notice it. Those little weights are off your mind, and the clarity shows just how thin Elliot is spread across everything he can't bear to leave to fend for itself.

There's not enough time in the world for him to help everyone, so he excludes himself. That's alright to him. That's logical to him, it's normal, it's all he can think of being right.

You just wish he'd let himself be taken care of.

[terrm9]

Count Me In (Ethan X MC)

Words count: 3 800 Warnings: none. this is just pure fluff and I like to believe that there are also funny parts. 

Author’s note: I had an idea about the gang roasting Ethan for a long time and Chapter 17 made me write this (set some days after the chapter). It was supposed to be just the gang making fun of Ethan, but in the end I got a little bit carried away and it’s basically Bryce Lahela appreciation post oops

Getting dressed for their roommates Sunday brunch has been filled with a newfound nervousness this Sunday. Yesterday evening, as Sienna and Aurora were discussing whether they would make waffles or pancakes and Jackie added that Bryce and Kyra would be joining them, so they need to make more of anything that would be served, Elijah subtly nodded towards the girls and then turned to Chiara with a wide grin on his lips.

“We were actually thinking about inviting Dr. Ramsey too, now that you guys are official and everything. We know that Sundays are his days off too.”

Chiara’s eyes widened at the offer, not sure if they were joking or not.

They were not.

And so now she was sitting in her room, ready to eat and drink while also comforting her… boyfriend? Partner? What was he?

Whatever he was, she was comforting Ethan through the phone, secretly smiling at his nervous rambling about the wine he was planning to bring and sweater he was wearing (‘Is it too formal? Or should I wear something more formal? My white Oxford?’)

“Deep breaths, Ethan. Jackie is probably going to stay in her pajamas the whole day, so there really isn’t a dresscode. Just wear whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“Okay. Yes, of course, whatever I am comfortable in,” he muttered, and Chiara could hear Jenner’s barking in the background and then a soft thud, muting the dog’s calling. “I am leaving the apartment now, so I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

As Chiara hung up, she heard new voices coming from the living room, indicating that Kyra and Bryce were already there. She decided to take the chance and talk to her friends before Ethan comes.

After hugging both Kyra and Bryce and helping Sienna set the table, Chiara took a deep breath and said: “Ethan will be here any minute now. Please, please, please guys, be nice to him, okay? He is so nervous, and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”

Bryce smiled sweetly and nodded, while Sienna replied: “Don’t worry Chiara, we will be nice, stuffing his mouth with the best pancakes he’s ever eaten and smiling politely. No worries.”

“Exactly,” Kyra nodded in agreement. “We would never do anything to embarrass you.”

“Or him,” Jackie added, smiling all too innocently for Chiara to believe a word of what they were saying.

Before she could inquire any further, the soft knock on the front door disturbed them and all she could do was to shoot everyone a deadly glare before opening a door.

“Hey, handsome,” she whispered with a smile as she spotted Ethan standing in the hall. He was wearing a knitted cream-color sweater and dark jeans, a bottle of wine in his hand.

He kissed her softly before stepping into the apartment, trying his best to maintain his usual attitude of composed, distant Dr. Ramsey they all knew.

I am still their boss. I shouldn’t be nervous about having an early lunch with them.

“Dr. Ramsey!” Sienna jumped out of living room before Chiara could even try to calm him down. “We are all so happy you decided to join us. Come in, everything is ready.”

Glancing at Chiara one more time, Ethan moved to the living room, where all of Chiara’s friends have already been seated around large dining table.

The room was filled with sweet aroma of freshly-made pancakes, maple syrup and raspberry jam, whipped cream and coffee. He handed the bottle of wine to Sienna.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he finally said as he sat down on the chair next to Chiara. “The pancakes look delicious. Which one of you is such a good cook? I know for sure it’s not Chiara,” he couldn’t help but tease.

She smacked his arm lightly but didn’t say anything, knowing rather well that Ethan was right.

“Sienna is the best cook and baker of all of us,” Elijah smiled just as Sienna made her way to the table, the bottle of wine already open. “This is hers and Aurora’s work.”

“Yeah, I was even more terrible cook than Chiara when I moved in and ever since Sienna discovered the fact, she’s been giving me private lessons. Today, I’ve learned to make pancakes,” Aurora chuckled.

With everyone seated, they started to fill their plates with pancakes and fruit and chocolate chips, the room filled with sounds of cutlery meeting plates and occasional sipping of wine.

“This wine is really good, Dr. Ramsey,” Jackie nodded in approval. “I never took you for an expert on wine.”

He chuckled softly at that and after swallowing his bite, he answered: “I am not, but I thought you aren’t such big fans of whiskey as I am. Few years ago, it was the last year of my residency I think, I saved the man who owns vineyards in Tuscany and he sends me few bottles of the wine every year, no matter how many times I tell him there is no need to do so. I brought some more, it’s in the trunk of my car. I’ll go grab it.”

Chiara beamed at his words, thankful to her friends for actually sticking to their words and acting nice. Ethan’s hand found Chiara’s knee under the table and he gave it a light squeeze, their own way of communicating without attracting the attention of others.

Another silence followed, however not an awkward one, rather simply comfortable silence between people enjoying the good food and company of each other.

Thank God they are not embarrassing us-

Before she could finish her thankful thought, Bryce cleared his throat and spoke.

“Surely you understand, Dr. Ramsey, that now that you and Chiara are officially together, we need to ask you some questions to make sure that your intentions with Chiara are absolutely pure.”

Ethan swallowed the pancake a little bit harder than he normally would, but he knew how important these people were to Chiara and also how important Chiara was to him, and so he simply nodded.

Meanwhile, Chiara put her fork down loudly and exclaimed: “What the fuck, Bryce?”

She looked around the table only to see all of her friends smiling mischievously and it all clicked.

They invited Ethan for the brunch so that they could roast him. That was also the reason why Bryce and Kyra made sure to come too.

“What? Your mum asked as to do so,” Bryce shrugged.

“No she didn’t,” Chiara shook her head, throwing murderous glances at her so called best friend Bryce Lahela.

“Okay, no, she didn’t, I made that up,” he admitted, grinning. “But I am sure she will be happy to know that your boyfriend passed the test.”

“Just shut up, Lahela. We are leaving,” she gritted her teeth. She could feel her cheeks flushing and hot at the word ‘boyfriend’ that Bryce used so easily. Even she didn’t dare to call Ethan her boyfriend yet!

She turned her head to look at Ethan and to her surprise, he was leaning against the chair, amused smile on his lips.

As he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, he said: “It’s okay, Chiara. I can answer the questions. I am an open book.”

At that, Chiara snorted loudly and murmured: “No you are not.”

“Bring the questions on then, Dr. Lahela,” Ethan nodded in the young surgeon’s direction. “As long as they are not too private, I am pretty sure I can pass your test.”

He wasn’t sure, of course. He was even more nervous than before and all the terrible scenarios ran through his head faster than Jenner ran while hounding squirrel in the park.

But to fake a confidence was his only weapon right now and he made sure to use it.

“Great, I’ll start then,” Bryce smiled even wider and Chiara clenched her hands into fists to not to wipe that smirk off his face. No matter how hard Bryce tried to explain that what they were about to do was for her own good, she knew that her friends stupidly enjoyed the position they were in right now.

Because right now, Ethan Ramsey wasn’t their boss. Right now, he was Chiara’s boyfriend and an intruder in their group and they could tease him and roast him and use all those sarcastic comments he’s been using their whole intern year on them, on him.

She crossed her arms on her chest and waited for Bryce’s question.

“I’ll start lightly, we don’t want to scare you in the beginning after all. We all know you are an outstanding diagnostician – I mean, even I have read parts of the textbook you wrote – and that’s pretty cool, sure. But what are the other things you are good at? Can you dance? Sing? Swim? Can you offer more than just your abilities to diagnose everyone?”

“There’s no ‘just’ in his abilities to diagnose,” Chiara barked at him, the need to protect Ethan stronger than anything else. She couldn’t let them scare him. She knew better then them about his habit of running away when things get too hard or too uncomfortable and right now, the amount of ‘uncomfortable’ in the room was enough even for her to run away.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have too much time to do anything big other than being doctor, the free time is precious commodity for me. Answering your suggestions, I can dance, yes. Singing? Probably not, but I have never had a chance to hear anyone’s opinion as I don’t sing in front people. And yes, I can swim too. Other than that, I like to think that I am rather good cook-“

“Oh, you cook?” Elijah interrupted him. “For how many people do you usually cook?”

“Just myself, usually,” Ethan shrugged, confusion clear on his face. On the other hand, Chiara knew very well where Elijah was heading and despite being terribly angry at them, she had to grin. “Sometimes for two people, when someone comes over for dinner.”

“Do you think you would could cook for, let’s say, eight people?”

“I think I would be capable of doing that, yes.”

“Great! You are welcome to crash in anytime you want and cook anything you would like to for us. I am so tired of living on ramen and plain pasta,” Elijah sighed and at that, everyone let out a short laugh. “However, sorry to disturb you. What else besides cooking?”

“I don’t know. I am good at learning languages, I guess. I speak German, Italian, French, Spanish and at the moment am learning Swedish.”

“Holy crap, that’s a lot of languages,” Kyra whistled under her breath.

“I choose wisely on what I spend my free time on and what occupies my mind. But when I choose something – learning a language, learning a new recipe, dating someone – I make it my priority and I am trying to give my everything into it. I once said to Chiara that I make it my mission to be good at everything I try and so I can assure you that I am willing to try my hardest to be a boyfriend Chiara deserves,” he answered nonchalantly, looking right into Bryce’s eyes at the word boyfriend.

He smiled at Chiara and kissed her temple, while Sienna whispered something like ‘that was so beautiful’ at the same time Jackie muttered ‘that was so sweet I might get cavities’.

“You are doing better than we expected, Dr. Ramsey,” Kyra smiled with devilish spark in her eyes. “But now it’s my turn to ask questions. You made sure to let us know that you, indeed, are capable of bunch of things but there also must be something you cannot do. Something you are seriously absolutely terrible at.”

Chiara couldn’t help it – she was beginning to enjoy this little show. It has probably everything to do with the fact that Ethan was handling the situation so well and wasn’t showing any signs of an escape.

“There is one thing that comes to my mind but Chiara already knows about it.”

“Oooh, so it’s a matter of an… intimate nature? You don’t have to share that, of course.”

Ethan choked on the sip of a wine he was just having and his eyes widened at the obvious misinterpretation of his words. The tips of his ears turned bright red and Chiara – more and more relaxed every minute – had to add her friends that have been viciously laughing at the sight.

“No! Jesus Christ that’s absolutely not what I was saying. I just thought it wouldn’t be important to share as Chiara already knows about it and still decided to give me a chance. But if you must know, I am seriously absolutely terrible at making… pancakes. I never get them right. That’s why I am so impressed by whomever made these,” he gestured at the table, where the rest of pancakes laid.

“I can teach you!” Sienna squealed. “It’s seriously so easy once you get it.”

“I am afraid it will not work, Dr. Trinh. My father tried to teach me, Youtube tutorial tried to teach me and still, my every attempt fails.”

“Please,” Aurora stepped into the conversation. “If she could teach me, she can definitely teach you. Next brunch, you are learning with her and I will be watching,” she grinned.

Aurora was nervous about this brunch. She was excited for Chiara and she was even more excited to enjoy a little bit of fun by teasing Ramsey, but even more she was terrified of what it would feel like to talk to him about anything else but work, knowing that he dated her aunt for six years.

Harper has made it clear, several times, that her time with Ethan has been more about physical attraction and supporting each other’s careers than affection, just as she admitted to Aurora that she knows Ethan Ramsey and she has known that his relationship with Chiara wasn’t simply professional for a long time. When Aurora asked her about her opinion on the new couple, Harper simply smirked and said that she was happy Ethan found someone who could tame his stubbornness.

Knowing that neither Harper nor Ethan felt any kind of hatred, jealousy or anger towards each other, she felt more relaxed about him coming as her friend’s partner. Yet, until this moment, when she teased him herself, about something as mundane as pancakes, she couldn’t get rid of a certain tension in her body.

But now, laughing at his expression as she suggested that he should learn to make pancakes with Sienna, she knew – even without any further investigation – that Ethan was a good man for Chiara.

“Okay, so you can’t make pancakes. Bruh,” Kyra rolled her eyes. “What else? You can’t be good at everything.”

“I am also rather terrible at drawing. Every time I am with a child patient with a broken leg or arm, I just hope they don’t ask me to draw something on their cast. For so many years I refused to draw anything and when they insisted, I tried to draw what they asked me to draw and they were so disappointed. Some of them even cried, that’s how ugly those drawing were,” he chuckled to himself, deep in his own thoughts and memories. “I decided to step it up a little bit a few years ago and after many, many Youtube tutorials, I can now draw a decent cat, dog, princess, car and dragon. So now, there are five different pens in the pocket of my coat and every time a child asks me to draw something on their cast, I pull the pens out and say ‘Okay little buddy, I have a red pen that can draw a nice car. I have a pink one that can draw a princess. I have a blue one for a dog and an orange one, which can draw a cat. And at last I have a green one and that one can draw an impressive dragon. You have to choose one of the pens’. Usually, that does the trick and for the last three years, nobody cried after I finished the drawing.”

He finished with a small laugh and looked around the table, only to find Bryce, Jackie and Elijah grinning, Aurora smiling softly, Sienna wiping her tears with a napkin and Chiara staring right back at him, her eyes filled with so much affection it warmed his heart.

“I wanted to hear something embarrassing and you proved that you are even better man than we expected. That’s not fair, Dr. Ramsey.”

“I think it’s okay for all of you to call me Ethan at this point,” he replied, ignoring Kyra’s compliment. He didn’t want to blush. “I probably won’t even be your attending much longer.”

There was a slight shift in the mood as the weight of his word settled down on them. Edenbrook was doomed and they all knew that the damage was beyond repair at this point, but right now, they didn’t want to talk about that.

Therefore Jackie decided to step in and turned to Ethan: “Okay, Ethan. I know you said you don’t have spare free time, but when you do and you decide not to learn anything, when you just want to relax, if you know what that word means, what do you do? How do you relax?”

“I have a dog which needs to be walked twice a day. I take him with me when I go for my morning run and then I walk with him through the park every evening I can. It makes an hour in my day, but it’s a relaxing hour. When I decide to relax at home, I usually read a book. Historical novels and poetry, mostly.”

Jackie wanted so badly to find something in his answer that she could tease him about, but really, there was nothing. This man was both, pretty impressing and pretty boring.

“You are a successful, famous, rich doctor,” Sienna smiled at him. “So, cards on the table now. What is your weakness? You know, those vices that successful, rich people have? What is it that you can’t resist? Beautiful women? Fast cars? Yachts? Golfing? Watches that cost more than my kidney? Tell us.”

Chiara shook her head in amusement, not expecting that kind of question from Sienna, of all people. However, she was curious too. She knew it wouldn’t be yachts nor golfing, but what are his vices? And so she didn’t even try to salvage him from answering.

“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious that I have a weakness for one particular beautiful woman,” he answered without missing a beat, pulling Chiara closer to him. “Other than that, I don’t think something will come to my mind. Yachts and golf, Christ no. I despise those activities. Fast cars? There might be something about that. I have a dream car, Mercedes C 300. I almost bought it, but it’s sedan and it’s too small for me. There was no space for my legs and getting in and out would be a torture. As my father like to say, I am too tall for my dream car. But I like the one I have now, it’s a reliable car,” he shrugged, not knowing what else to say. Yes, his car was incredibly expensive and probably luxurious, but he bought it because it was elegant and reliable and didn’t attract too much attention.

“If I would have to choose a vice of mine, it would probably be whiskey in the end. Sometimes I surprise myself with how much money I am willing to pay for a good bottle of whiskey.”

“Okay, you are a decent guy with a brain of Tesla and almost as little bad attributes as me,” Bryce sighed dramatically. “Do you at least snore?”

“Okay Bryce, now you are just nosy,” Aurora laughed. “You don’t need to know that.”

“I don’t, but Chiara does! She is going to spend nights with him!”

“I already know that, Bryce,” Chiara rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t.”

Ethan lowered himself so that nobody else but Chiara could hear him and whispered: “But you do.”

She turned to him with her eyebrows raised, the silent question visible on her face.

Are you serious, Ramsey?

“Okay, I guess we should let you go for now. Next time, I’ll be asking about your teenage years, med school parties you attended, if you ever got arrested and the sex positions you prefer,” Bryce grinned, putting his hands behind his head as he leaned into the chair.

“I am not going to discuss the last one with you.”

“So you just agreed to discuss the other topics!”

“No.”

Bryce pouted at him and disappointed, added: “Okay, I won’t bring a marriage and kids up, either. I will probably leave those for Diana.”

“Diana?!” Chiara sang out. “Since when are you on first name terms with my mother, Lahela?”

“It just happened,” Bryce shrugged carelessly, finishing his glass of wine. “I told you the women can’t resist my charm. She is no exception.”

Chiara wanted to make a remark about not needing to know about the charm Bryce used on her mother, but stopped herself when she noticed how Bryce’s face was slightly pink and he still held the empty glass near his lips to hide the fact.

She knew what it was all about. Bryce Lahela was her best friend and knew all about her secrets and problems and also everything about her past. And she knew about his.

When she decided to spend her two free weeks in the summer after her intern year back home, in San Francisco, she invited Bryce to go with her. He agreed gladly and while their fourteen days in Chiara’s house, he became incredibly close with both, her mother and her younger sister Alicia.

For Bryce, Diana Ray was a mother he never had. They called each other at least once a week, he would send her postcards from all of his trips and she would send him presents for Christmas and birthday in return.

For Diana, Bryce Lahela was a son she lost six years ago. Chiara’s brother Liam, along with her father died in a car crash and being with Bryce felt like being with her brother again. And she knew that her mum felt the same way. After all those years, she had a ‘young handsome man’ to call, to care for, to be proud of again.

A pang of guilt found its way into Chiara’s chest as she realized that this whole brunch idea was Bryce’s idea and that it might have been an opportunity to roast Ethan for others, but for Bryce, it was exactly what he said it was. It was making sure that his little sister would be taken care of with the man she chose.

It was making sure that this time, Ramsey wouldn’t break her heart and leave.

‘We need to make sure that your intentions with Chiara are absolutely pure.’

He meant it.

taglist: @takemyopenheart @maurine07 @senseofduties @mercury84choices @flightlessbirdiee @udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers​ @ohchoices​ @adrex04

[gloryofluv]

Traditionally Obscure Chapter 28

A nice transitional chapter? I think so.

Previous Chapter

Rosa came down the staircase and heard deep laughter in the sitting room nearby. She breathed and entered the room to see the tall, framed magician with bound-back hair. His dark hair highlighted his sharp azure eyes. He was smiling and in the midst of explaining some adventure. By Luke’s grin, it likely had more than typical amusement.

“It was a blunder,” Carl laughed and shook his head.

Ester covered her laughter as the princesses giggled. Vyn was smiling, but when his eyes met Rosa’s form, he wagged two fingers toward her. Carl noted the action and turned with a wild smile.

“Ms. Rosa! How wonderful to see you,” He chuckled and skipped over to her.

“Mr. Carl,” Rosa beamed.

He bowed and tilted his head. “How are you in Svart? Has it been decent to you in your stay?”

“Very much. I’m absolutely charmed by the country,” she declared.

Carl grinned and pulled a black handkerchief from his pocket. With a flash of sparks, it turned into a small porcelain blackbird. He offered it in his palm toward her. “This is our bird in Svart. Just as beautiful as you, My Lady.”

“Carl, you’ve made your point,” Vyn said in a flat tone.

He smirked back at Vyn. When he spoke, it was playful and in his native tongue. Carl covered the bird with his hand, and it disappeared. Vyn’s smile faded, and he spoke with a bit of force.

“I wouldn’t test him; he’s in pain,” Rosa added.

Carl was still speaking to Vyn and asked a clear question pointing to her.

“Yes,” Vyn said with a nod. “Should she agree.”

The princesses gasped and nearly jumped from their seats to skip over to Vyn, speaking to him swiftly. Rosa’s eyebrows raised, and she glanced at Luke, who shrugged his shoulders. It was unusual, that was certain.

“He says you shall be joining him for his visits to the estate more often,” Carl explained.

Rosa smiled and rocked her head before walking toward Vyn’s chair. “Now, ladies, your cousin is grumpy today. Don’t nag him,” she teased while touching their shoulders.

The princesses pouted and went to sit back down. Vyn curled his lips and gestured to the seat nearby. “Please sit, Rosa. Tea will be brought in shortly.”

“Seems Vilhelm is quite authoritative today,” Carl chuckled and walked over to the empty armchair.

“Indeed,” Ester breathed.

Rosa crossed her leg over the other and smiled at Carl. “So tell me. How have you been since the last we’ve seen each other? Have you been working on any new acts?”

Carl rocked his hand from side to side and snorted. “It is always in progress. I’m pleased you’re interested in hearing more about my future shows. Is magic not a staple in your life currently?”

“Vyn actually showed me such a wonderful trick, similar to your handkerchief one,” Rosa declared.

“Vilhelm, you shouldn’t be revealing the secrets of the trade,” Carl laughed.

Vyn chuckled and shook his head. “Not nearly as proficient as yours, Carl.”

“Oh, a compliment? I’m touched, Your Grace,” Carl replied and bowed his head with a smile.

“Comedy doesn’t suit you,” Vyn voiced.

Luke scratched his head. “Are you both friends?”

“Quite, from school. You see, Vilhelm and I shared the same dormitory. While others were out jostling about during recess hours, we were in our room working on magic and science,” Carl chuckled.

Two workers came into the room with trays and set them on the table. Rosa waited for them to finish and excuse themselves with bows before she stood up and began dressing the cups. She turned her attention to the magician and tilted her head.

“I’d like to hear more about this dormitory. You both bunked together?” Rosa asked.

Carl grinned and rocked his head. “It seems Vilhelm hasn’t been revealing any of our school days to you, Ms. Rosa. I was not in the exhilarated classes such as him, but we did trade fantastic stories when he wasn’t excelling at some sport or class.”

“So, he was like this even as a child? Vyn, do you ever relax?” Luke inquired as his eyebrows skewed.

“Says the man who went to college the first year of high school,” Rosa tutted.

“High school, ah, that is,” Carl wavered and then spoke to Vyn in his native tongue.

“No, I was already a second-year graduate by then,” Vyn clarified.

“Wait, just a second here,” Luke huffed. “You were a second-year graduate at the start of high school?”

Ester arched an eyebrow. “Nephew, why is this a surprise? Don’t you have two degrees?”

Vyn’s smile was pleasant, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Yes, as it seems, time isn’t factored into Ph.D.’s.”

Carl rocked his head and pointed his index finger at Vyn. “Vilhelm, now that you’re a duke, when do you plan to come back so I can set up a show for you. It would be quite the honor to host such in your honor.”

“Oh, Vil said he’d be home for the dressage competition!” Sasha rushed out with a smile.

“We’re trying to insist he comes out for fall harvest,” Elsa voiced.

“Cousins, we talked about this,” Vyn tutted and shook his head. “Patience.”

“Ladies, are you in your final year of tutelage?” Carl questioned the princesses.

They rocked their heads, and Sasha exhaled. “Vil says we have to finish with accelerated studies due to the last two years.”

Luke cocked his head like a lost puppy. “Okay, I don’t know about this royal stuff. Why did the two years matter?”

Ester cleared her throat and nodded. “Mr. Pearce, in Svart, the royal family, stands for head of the country. We represent the sacred precedence all the country holds to tradition. When my King husband was diagnosed by the royal physicians, he was given less than a year. We as the family must put all tasks and business on hold that could be.”

“So, this is like an exaggerated version of how we see our government heads in Stellis?” Luke questioned.

Ester rocked her head and touched her chest. “We are the symbol of prosperity and kindness. Anointed for a higher standard of life. The king is our shining star, and without a bright shine of guidance, the country's leadership isn’t balanced. That is why we have three different branches to run our land.”

“Aristocratic, Government and State,” Vyn added.

“That’s interesting,” Rosa nodded while serving the princesses and queen tea and turned to Vyn. “So, your title does grant you a form of leadership then?”

Vyn nodded as Rosa offered him a cup after the ladies. “Thank you, Rosa. I influence the word of the Aristocracy, yes. My uncle was very forceful about how he believed in checks and balances in his country.”

Carl waved his index finger. “And so the wheel moves and spins. Vilhelm, we always knew you were going not to be a spoke, but the lever.”

Luke adjusted his coat and hummed. “Vyn, if you’re the head of the aristocracy, then how are you going back to Stellis?”

“Ah, yes, Vilhelm, I was going to see about your plan,” Carl took the teacup Rosa handed him. “Thank you, My Lady.”

Rosa gave Luke a cup before sitting down herself. “I’m interested to hear about your plan as well, Dr. Richter.”

Vyn sipped his cup and reached over for a folder with a small wince. “Alright, if you insist.”

He handed Rosa the green folder, and she set down her tea to shuffle through it. It was pragmatic and genuinely a piece of art as far as plans go. Vyn has everything plotted in a manner of telecommunications, video sessions with the other leaders of the aristocracy, and scheduled visitations.

“I’m so impressed,” Rosa gasped. “Not that I should be shocked. You have always been impressive.”

Vyn gestured to Carl. “What my friend here hasn’t announced from his mischievous passions in magic is that he’s remarkably wonderful at communications. He is here to receive my certifications to give to the different international companies based in the east of my province.”

Rosa arched her eyebrows and glanced over at Carl. “Oh, I hadn’t a clue. That’s excellent. It does make sense how you’re so excellent at magic then, Mr. Carl. You know how people perceive their surroundings.”

Carl grinned and rocked his head. “It does help. I’m happy to see your skills of awareness are sharp. However, your enjoyment of magic is a sign of partaking in the tender parts of life.”

“Thank you; I’d like to think there needs to be joy in life because there’s so much difficulty as it is,” Rosa agreed before nibbling on a danish.

Ester moved her hair from her shoulder and smiled. “It seems my nephew keeps useful friends.”

“It certainly does,” Rosa laughed.

Luke reached over and snatched up the folder from Rosa. He was glancing over the papers with an intense scowl as his coral eyes shot between pages. The princesses whispered to each other a moment and then nodded.

“Cousin, can we at least break tradition for your birthday this year?” Sasha asked.

Vyn exhaled and glanced over at Ester. She raised her eyebrows and slanted her head. “It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to celebrate your birthday with a ball. It doesn’t go against tradition if you don’t require the attendance of the present royal family,” she nodded.

He adjusted his golden glasses and rocked his head. “Fine, we shall throw a party.”

The girls clapped; however, Rosa scowled. “How is that not breaking the rules? Sorry, I’m still learning.”

“Well, My Lady, as long as the current royal family doesn’t engage with social events and the entire family doesn’t publicly engage in courting or international events, then private engagements are welcome,” Carl explained before glancing over at Ester. “Your Majesty, did I miss anything?”

Ester shook her head. “As always, you have proven to remain knowledgeable of Svartian traditions.”

Rosa tilted her head. “So, the dressage competition is just countrywide, which is allowed? Also, that’s why Sasha and Elsa can’t engage with social events like the summer fashion show in Paris?”

“Royal life is complex,” Ester laughed. “It’s alright, Rosa. It’s a different world.”

Vyn shifted and bent with a bit of effort to retrieve a pastry. Carl waved him off and stood up, grabbing a plate before offering it to him after selecting pastries. “My friend, you need to let your injuries mend.”

“Yes, well, I can test my own limitations,” Vyn grumbled and took the offer. “Thank you.”

“No, you need to recover,” Ester declared with a glare. “Vilhelm, that isn’t a request. As head of this household, you will take care of yourself.”

Luke handed the folder back to Rosa and nodded. “That’s an excellent proposal, Vyn. However, my only concern is how you expect to maintain all of your requirements in both countries.”

Rosa set it aside and sipped her tea. “If anyone is capable of doing it, Dr. Richter can.”

“It’s plenty to take on, Rosa. You don’t understand the intricacies of running several operations at once,” Luke sighed.

“Pardon me, but you don’t need to talk down to me, Luke. I understand very well the issues that he’s facing,” Rosa groaned.

Luke gasped as his cheeks tinted. “Rosa, I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just plenty to do.”

“Which, Luke, I’ve plotted out. I have known of my uncle’s issues for years and laid out this plan on the off chance that my Uncle Ruthgar would need assistance,” Vyn exhaled.

“Quite intricate,” Carl nodded.

“I think we shall enjoy a few tricks that our friend has prepared are in order after tea,” Vyn hummed and set down his plate. “Aunt, I believe you wanted some time to relax before our departure tomorrow?”

Ester cleared her throat. “Of course, nephew,” she bobbed her head and stood up. “Ladies, behave for our guests.”

The princesses waved to their mother, and Ester left the room. Rosa noted the subtext of the conversation. Now that she had confirmation that she ran the two companies that originated in Svart, Rosa could understand the subtleties. Vyn stood up and rocked his head. “Shall we head to the ballroom? I believe you brought in the pieces for your show, correct? I know it won’t be as exquisite, but still enjoyable.”

Carl grinned and jumped from his chair. “Of course, Your Grace,” he chuckled and bowed deeply.

Vyn sighed. “Don’t, please.”

Luke glanced at the princesses and shrugged. “He always seems to be in a disagreeable mood.”

“Don’t worry, he isn’t,” Carl chuckled and gestured to them. “Let me perform for you before you leave. I did promise Ms. Rosa to show her something new next time we met.”

Rosa took Vyn’s arm and rocked her head with a smile. “I look forward to it.”

The group left toward the ballroom, but on their way, Rosa noted a cracked door. She had paused only long enough to note a woman speaking in the native language. It wasn’t demure like Ester’s usual tone. It was severe and authoritative.

Vyn glanced at her and tilted his head as they fell behind the group. “She’s quite fierce,” he whispered.

“Yes, and the perfect person to assist with your duties as well. I’m finding that you and your aunt are far more similar than I suspected,” Rosa agreed.

His smile stretched. “Actually, I was estimating you both are more alike than you suspect, Rosa. Let’s enjoy the rest of our evening in Svart. We have a long journey home tomorrow,” he replied before they continued their path to the ballroom.

[inwardboundseagypsy]

A breakdown of my LATELY.

- My 6 year old is diagnosed with ASD Level 2 and ADHD

- Some teachers are supportive and helpful, others are pulling their hair out and telling me about it on a daily basis while disciplining him in sometimes physically aggressive manner.

- Husband is traveling between Italy (where we are) and the U.S. during COVID times, spending the majority of his time (3 weeks) in the U.S. raising up a new business, and less than one week at home with us. (We are trying to be patient and understanding...we are saving for a new house so that we can get out of our current rental situation.)

- Current rental situation: house floods, black mold in bedroom, water refuses to get hot in the morning hours (no hot showers until evening), there is one small room dedicated to all: living room, kitchen and dining area (and it's seriously tiny!), it's by the beach which is wreaking havoc on my sinuses (I suffer from sand dust allergies and sinusitis due to the extreme humidity - makes me tired and miserable most of the time.), No place to control the dogs' activity (they're old and pee wherever they want), kid's bedroom is so small, we cant even fit his toys, nor does he have ample floor space to play, everything breaks (fridge, toilet seats, shower hoses and heads, the pumps that suck water from the ground level when it rains - thus the flooding, closet doors get stuck, paint is pulverizing and falling right off the walls, bedroom door is accordion style and impossible to fix - thus it wont close. The list goes on.) We are truly miserable here and can't find another rental - we've looked and exhausted all options in the area! So we need to buy, ASAP!

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

So...I'm alone with my special needs child, getting him set up with therapy appointments, trying to communicate with his angry and frustrated teachers in a language I'm not yet fluent in, while working on my own anxiety and depression following bouts of extreme stress trying to get his cooperation in the home as well. There is no family for support and help. All friends and possible babysitter options fall through the cracks as everyone is getting COVID, we are forced at times into distance learning depending on how many of my kid's classmates test positive at any given moment, and I'm still trying to work on my Italian by attending an adult school three mornings per week for a total of 9 hours.

I have a lot on my plate. It almost seems like I'm living life in a foreign country as a single parent without the help of family. OK, well I kind-of am! And I suffer from anxiety, depression, ADD, and now after having researched and studied about Autism for hours, days, months on end...I'm beginning to believe that I, too, need to get evaluated.

I'm starting to have panic attacks. I've had only 2 in my entire 43 years of life...and now I'm having them regularly. What's concerning for me is that my young boy is serving witness to them. And for me, that's not OK. That's an alarm bell for me that's ringing toward the direction that I need to get help for myself as well. I NEED to be focused on him. I NEED to be strong and stable for him. He is too little to see his mother in this state of mind all of the time. He's also witnessing a plethora of emotional meltdowns and breakdowns, as I'm back to the fragile state of not being able to control extreme moments of emotional overwhelm.

My head hurts on a regular basis, not only over trying to suppress emotional responses to repeated and continual stress, but also triggering situations like when one of his teachers are 12 inches away from my face, shouting at me because she's frustrated with my son. So my head already hurts from poor emotional and stress regulation, ENTER - non fluency in a foreign language which is necessary for survival and all communications with those around me.

Many expats know that when you enter a life in a foreign country, and begin to learn a language through full immediate immersion, your head gets so hot and feels like it's about to explode some days, if you're focused on listening hard to understand what's being said, and combing your rapidly increasing vocabulary for the right words to be able to articulate what you need, what you want, and how to hold a conversation.

Add to the list of normal expat adaptation: how to communicate about the needs of your child and understand school protocols concerning entering a new school or grade level or switching over to online distance learning where you need to help your ADHD Autistic child to understand and focus on the school work that you barely understand...these directions being given....in the new language! Doctor appointments and communications. Therapy appointments and communications. Psych evaluations. The list of a parent is even greater!

People are very empathetic about this struggle. But then let's throw in that the person who's needing to navigate all of this, not just for herself, but for her son....also has anxiety, depression and ADHD. (And I guess sooner or later, we'll find out about the Autism.) Dude! I'm fighting a steep and treacherous uphill battle!

I guess it's important to understand that if I can get through this...all of those moments where I break down and cry (because I can't control my emotional response to triggers and stress) that make me feel like a broken, incapable, weak person...are just crumbling rocks on the hillside beneath my feet making it difficult to gain traction, but I always do! I always come through it, and if I can manage THAT, I'm not weak after all. I'm stronger than the average person who's got their shit together and treads a lighter path. But in the end, who are any of us to assume everyone's path is free of debris. We only know our own unique situations. And as a result, we tend to feel consumed with our own situations and swallowed by our own challenges, forgetting...that we are NOT alone.

My goal in divulging all of this chaos to the world wide net is not only to process and find release (IT's good for me), but also in the hopes that someone else out there who may relate to my story for one reason or another, someone else who struggles on a daily basis to do the basic things or the hard things in life...or who finds the basic things to be hard things...I want you to know that you're not alone. I get you.

More and more sensitive people are popping up, surfacing from the waves of a regimented society that for too long has covered up or ignored those of us who are deeply emotional and sensitive to situations and tangible things in life that others don't bat an eyelash over. It's often misunderstood by others, and for so long we've been made to feel psycho or crazy by the rest of society. Really, at times, being sensitive can be a gift. But it's hard when you're in the hurricane of the struggle, and even harder when it happens in front of people who don't. get. it. I'm here to tell you, I do.