#- sensitive med and if those things weren’t true i would have said no

[callixton]

have i gone 40 hours without sleep yes. am i dangerous levels of sleep deprived and making poor decisions yes. am i taking advantage of that boy’s kindness yes. but also it’s true that i wasn’t feeling confident about making it into my dorm safely i was just expecting him to offer to walk me in not to invite me to sleep on his couch

[acourtofsnakes]

Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor​ for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life 

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar​  @weirdowithnobeardo​

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl ​

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice 

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone. 

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself. 

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours. 

He almost laughed at himself. 

The Creed was all he had. 

Until…. Until the kid had come along. 

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed. 

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones. 

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window. 

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable. 

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety. 

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that. 

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it. 

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services. 

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family. 

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues. 

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship. 

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her. 

A survivor’s look. 

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore. 

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired. 

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan. 

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park. 

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you. 

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him. 

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him. 

But… this felt.. different. 

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took. 

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you. 

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up.  He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs. 

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like. 

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there. 

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained. 

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle. 

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step. 

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away. 

Help her. 

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve. 

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere. 

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all. 

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs. 

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for. 

He was hunter. You were prey. 

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit. 

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while. 

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone. 

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped. 

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship. 

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon. 

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning. 

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours. 

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two. 

That’s the way it was meant to happen. 

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up. 

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it. 

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more. 

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name. 

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said. 

And that’s when it went wrong. 

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence. 

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts. 

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body. 

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower. 

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep. 

He left himself open to attack. 

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.  

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you. 

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu. 

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you. 

Beautiful. 

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant. 

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head. 

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you. 

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you. 

And that was his second fuck up of the night. 

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you. 

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him. 

He couldn’t save you. 

He was going to watch you die defending him. 

Just like his parents. 

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips. 

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest. 

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh. 

An opening, that’s all he had to do. 

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back. 

You took your opening. 

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck. 

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars. 

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to. 

This was it then. 

The way he would go. 

Nothing noble, or heroic. 

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough. 

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that. 

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek. 

No. No. 

What were you doing?? 

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run. 

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant. 

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun. 

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle. 

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him. 

Gazing right into his eyes. 

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go. 

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something. 

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish. 

He put his life in your hands. 

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children. 

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into. 

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them. 

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes. 

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not  

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara. 

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself. 

They were the options. 

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes. 

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you. 

Only it was too late. 

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could. 

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb. 

Previous chapter| Next Chapter

[katie-writes24]

Fell Into The Same Arms Pt.2

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: Language, angst, a pinch of fluff, ANGST, suggestive material, mentions of drug use, sad sad sad

Part 1

I’m starting to believe I will never just get straight to the point? But it’s whatever. This wasn’t even suppose to have a part 2, but everyone hyped it up which was super shocking to me? And luckily for you I write a lot when I’m in need of a vent soooo yeah! Anyways, let me know if you want to be tagged! Feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

It was cold, the wind a lot stronger this morning because of last nights storm. The window was open.

Thomas always left the window open, no matter how many times she complained.

"What if a bird flies in? What if someone climbs up and breaks in? And I don't like those bug noises!"

"What bug noises?"

"Like crickets and just little noises- I don't know but they creep me out!"

"I get too hot when I sleep, you know that," Thomas shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, climbing into bed and folding his arms behind his head.

"Yeah, well I get too cold now," Y/N gets in on her own side, proving her point and wrapping herself in the blanket, making Thomas chuckle.

"Come 'ere, I'll keep you warm!" He wrapped his arms around her torso, cradling the back of her neck and breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo. Y/N curled in and let out a blissful sigh, finally recovering some warmth.

"Don't let me go," She whispered before nodding off to sleep.

"I won't, I promise."

He was keeping his promise.

She should get up and go back to her own apartment, tell Hercules about everything and beg him not to tell anyone because she didn't want to hear the much deserved I told you so's. She should maybe stop at the drug store and pick up some pain meds and concealer, at least try and make the bruises fade. When Angelica calls her and asks where she is, she should tell her that she had a rough night and can't make it to work. She should leave this bed...

But she can't fight the warmth of Thomas's chest, can't seem to remove the covers and face the world just yet.

Lost in her own thoughts, she soon felt a hand run up and down her spine slowly. He was hesitant, and he had every right to be. They shouldn't indulge themselves in this, they both know that it will only hurt them later.

Last night, she let herself fall, both in her own beaten head and in Thomas's arms. She let him fix her up and tell her that it would be okay, and he let her rest in his bed because he knows that she always enjoyed the soft, fancy foam. Thomas didn't call anybody because he knew that Y/N didn't want that.

None of this would've happened if she just stayed home last night. She knew exactly what she was getting into when she opened her mouth and fought the fight that wasn't hers.

"You're thinking too loud."

He was one to talk, really.

His fingers found her scalp and started to massage it gently, and there was no resisting the feeling. It was a moment of peace, something she hadn't gotten in a while.

"When's the last time we were in bed together?"

Just like that, it's gone.

Y/N quickly removed herself out of his embrace and folded the covers back. Thomas only sighed dramatically, "Don't get so sensitive, Y/N."

"Yeah, that's rich. I think you should just be proud that you managed to bring me upstairs in the first place." She was being bitter, she knew it, but he sounded too smug about something that didn't even happen last night. Turning to face him, she could feel tension forming in the air.

"You're right, excuse me for trying to be a nice host!"

"Is that what you would call it? Because you had that dumb look on your face where you think you know exactly what you're doing, but you really don't. It's so...ugh, it's so practical of you to think last night was a whole thing!"

"May I remind you, that you're the one that broke this off." It was a stab, and again, she deserved it. But she didn't want to get into it right now, not when she was sore from a viscous beating from the previous night.

"I don't have time for this, Thomas-"

"When will you have time? We never even- we never sat down and talked about it!" Thomas was out of bed now, pacing the room and looking at her with narrowed eyes. "Will you ever make time for me? Do you even want to try and fix this?"

"If I wanted to fix it, then I would've when it happened!"

Thomas snapped his jaw shut, staring at her in disbelief. Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead and looking up to meet his eyes. "Look, I know that this is all my fault, everything is my fault! I shouldn't have came here last night, I shouldn't have moved in with you, I shouldn't have said yes, and I shouldn't-"

"You shouldn't have said yes? Really? So...so-what, you just never loved me at all?"

"Of course I love you Thomas! I should've never gotten involved with you in the first place, that's the problem! I shouldn't have brought you into this fucked up life I have. I don't even remember why you liked me in the first place. I was in AA, and I obviously wasn't getting any better! And look at me now, look at my arm-" She thrusted her arm in his line of sight, making him flinch backwards either at the motion or the scrapes and bruises that layered her skin. "There's no helping this, Thomas."

The silence that came afterwards was deafening, both of them standing still, looking at each other. There was nothing more she could do to patch up the hole, there was no saving them.

"I thought you were getting better," Thomas was barely above a whisper, and the quiver in his voice made her feel guilty.

"Yeah...well, so did I." She felt calmer now, there wasn't a reason to be, but she felt like it was pointless anyway. "It's been a rough week. Too many tasks, too many problems. This guy at work....he said that they would help me sleep. I don't know really...what they do, but it's definitely not sleep."

"So, you're taking without knowing what it is? That's just...that's great-"

"I'm not here for a lecture, Thomas."

"Then what are you here for?"

Shockingly, she wasn't expecting that one. There was more to it, a long story that revolved around Alexander and John, one about Eliza telling her to go back to group, one that ended all contact with Lafayette. There was even more to the story of last night, but she was afraid if she told Thomas all of this, he would never open that door again to her, not even if she banged on it crying for help.

She was here because when she fell hard on the cement last night, she thought that it was the end, that she finally lost the battle and it would all be over soon. The first person she thought of was Thomas; if he would come to her funeral, if he would keep in contact with her friends, if he would ever think positively about her again?

There was even a sliver of hope that maybe he would come rushing down the corner, see her and help her. Luckily, the worker taking out the trash across the street saw the scene, started yelling, making threats about calling the police. Even though the threats weren't at her, she couldn't risk it, and she fled.

Looking over at her ex, and seeing his eyes all watery, she then realized she said all of that out loud.

"I always regretted it," Y/N clears her throat, trying to fight her own tears. "Always wish that I could take it all back, never even step foot in that club and take what was offered. I really do, Thomas. If I had just done that, maybe we would still... be together."

And what could you say to that? Thomas was always one to make it known when someone was in the wrong, would always correct someone when they said some asinine shit that he knew wasn't true. She could name three times that he called her out, one time that he even called James out, and she couldn't even keep count on how many times he told Alexander off for being absolutely wrong.

Her last statement..there was nothing wrong about that, because even he knew it was the truth.

She let drugs and people and lies overcome her, and it took a toll in their relationship. They both knew the last time they were in this house together that years of built up trust, compassion and love was destroyed in one minute.

Just when she was about to grab her keys and walk out, out of his life for good, for the better, he scoffed.

"You said love," It was barely above a whisper, but she could hear him perfectly.

Still, she played dumb. "What?"

"When I asked if it was real? If you ever loved me? You said you love me...present tense."

Looking up at his wide eyes, she could remember the nights where she would stare into them like they never ended, like there was a tiny galaxy in his pupils. It made her warm, and he would never look away.

Right now they look hopeful, the stars shining a bit brighter than before.

Y/N gestured small, not really knowing what to say or do. She'd either lie to Thomas or lie to herself, and she had lied to him enough, hasn't she?

Thomas crossed the room, placing his big hands against her arms. Their foreheads touched, and he was too close, it was bound to get ugly. It was bound to fall back into the same cycle if Y/N let him stay this close.

"We shouldn't," Y/N whispered, voice cracking and not meeting his face until he tilted her chin up. There were his eyes again...

"You're probably right," Thomas huffed and licked his lips.

She didn't like the sound of that, she even shook her head to convince herself that this was all just bad bad bad.

"I need help, T."

His thumb swiped against the water on her cheek, shushing her. "We'll get you help. We can do this, you can do this, Y/N. Just let me be there when you do it."

It was tempting, so tempting.

“You know, maybe it’s not exactly fate...but Y/N I know that you were on my doorstep last night for a reason, let it be yours or not, who cares.”

There’s a thought. Maybe if she didn’t show up, she wouldn’t be in this situation, with Thomas so close that she could just selfishly take what she wants. The temptation was right in front of her and yet it wasn’t hers to have.

“Let this be our second chance...please.”

Thomas was begging, he never begged, not like this.

"I can be there, by your side. I will be...just let me in."

“Your relationship was doomed from the start.”

“Don't think about it too much. Things happen.”

“He doesn't need you, not when you're falling apart and breaking from the seams.”

Y/N leaned up and met his soft lips, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him as close as possible. Thomas wrapped his arms around her back, kissing back just as firm.

Call it cliche, but it felt like Y/N was back home, like this whole time she was on a ridiculously long getaway, except that she had never meant to getaway in the first place. This connection was what she needed all along. Or maybe Y/N just needed to be around Thomas, just talk to him. Maybe they were meant to fight and scream and argue and just be. Maybe she was meant to get hooked again only to show up and have Thomas take her into his arms willingly.

Their lips moved against each other with the same rhythm as before, with passion and skill. Thomas massaged her tongue with his own, only pulling back when he was out of breath.

They weren't sure what the future would look like, if Y/N ever would get better, would actually try to. Maybe she'd break Thomas's heart again, and it would be a lesson to him. Maybe they would both take it slow and learn how to build up from here without damaging one another unknowingly.

Good or bad, they were willing to give it a try, no matter how many of their loved ones told them how terrible it was to go back to the one that hurt you most.

Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

Jefferson tag list: @notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @tinywhim @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @daveeddiggsit @ohsoverykeri-blog @astralaffairs @i-know-i-can

[freifraufischer]

Studies in Family Mutations...

The reason I traveled to Milwaukee this week is because there is a research group there doing a study into ocular albinism.  I thought I’d explain what is going on and why i’m participating:

There are a couple of different kinds of albinism and they sometimes go hand in hand but they aren’t entirely related.  Albinism of the eyes doesn’t really have a connection to lack of pigment in the skin.  We’re dealing with ocular albinism here.  Traditionally mutations like albinism are used to understand development of the eyes because abnormality can often shed light on how so called normal development is supposed to happen.  But in the past the studies have been of people with traditionally albino eyes and those with completely normal eyes.  It was known that there were “carriers” those who carried the classical albino mutations but because it is a recessive trait they don’t manifest the conditions.  This group is interested in redefining ocular albinism not as a “Yes or No”  condition but as a spectrum and it turns out that my family may be a key to redefining this because none of us work the way the text books say we should work.

We have known for a couple of generations that we were “carriers” but there was something off.  Carriers aren’t supposed to demonstrate the signs of albinism of the eyes themselves and we do.  The four traditional signs of albinism of the eyes are 1) poor acuity 2) strabismus (crossed eyes) 3) nystagmus (a stuttering of the eyes generally from side to side but sometimes up and down), and 4) photophobia (light sensitivity).  Now crossed eyes can and does occur outside of albinism commonly but nystagmus is rare and almost always linked to albinism.  I have 2, 3, and 4 but my vision is essentially normal.  My sisters both have all four though as it turns out my nystagmus and photophobia are much worse then theirs.  This will become fascinating later on when I tell you the genetic picture.

But how did we get on the radar for this lab.  While my nephew has a classical case of albinism such that if you saw him on the street you would know he was albino (though with blue eyes not red).  He’s also legally blind.  My sister is an MD/PhD and had participated in a few research studies studying his albinism in the past but they weren’t asking the same questions.  But while at a meeting for the national association for albinism she heard someone from this research group give a paper on their work and she went up to them after the panel and said “let me show you a picture of my flovea”.  The flovea is a part of the retina with tightly packed light receptors.  She had the pictures from the previous research group and my sister has a malformation of this part of the eye that is the classic albino structural malformation.  In a normal eye this area is slightly dished.  My sister’s is flat.  The text books say that the flat flovea is why people with albinism have poor visual acuity.  Except the degree of my sister’s malformation means that she should have much worse eyesight than she actually has.  So it can’t be the cause of bad eyesight.

And that got this group excited about my family because as I said earlier ... none of us are behaving like the text books say carriers should behave.  Now the genetics are a little complicated but on the basic level... there is a gene that is the classic albinism gene and then there are a few other genes that are the subject of scientific dispute that may or may not be albinism genes.  Some scientists say they are true albinism mutations and some say they are not significant.  

My mother carries two copies of the disputed genes.  We believe my father carried a copy of the classic albinism gene.  My sister has one copy of the albinism gene and one copy of the two disputed genes from my mother.  She also has the structural features in the eye that are diagnostic of albinism if it weren’t for that pesky problem of she sees to well.  Her son got another copy of the classic albinism gene from his dad plus the one from his mother and her copy of the disputed gene.  His albinism is worse than you would expect with just two copies of the classic gene.  Now ... me.  To the surprise of everyone I did not get my father’s classic albinism gene.  But i got both my mother’s disputed ones.  So I should be an asymptomatic carrier by any account.  I also have at least on a macro level a normal flovea (or at least more normal than my sister).  But remember I’m demonstrating MORE of the lack of function associated with albinism than she is.  I show 3 of the 4 classic signs of ocular albinism including the most rare ones.  

My sister has the gene and abnormal structure but too much functionality.  I don’t have the classic gene or the abnormal structure but I have the clinically obvious symptoms that the text books say are caused by these things I demonstratively don’t have.  And the current guess is that when they get my oldest sister into the lab she’s going to have a third variation on all of this.  And now this research lab is flying basically every member of my extended family they can get in to try and track what is going on (my cousins are starting to go next month).  

And all of this is actually kind of validating.  Because all of my life I’ve had this condition that every doctor studies in med school but that doesn’t behave in any of the ways they were told it behaves.  And now I get to be part of proving that I was right and they were wrong for dismissing me my entire life.

[another-stark-sub]

Maybe Marriage, Maybe Baby Carriage - Tony Stark Imagine

Summary: A normal day for you and Tony takes a turn when you find blueprints for some jewelry

Warnings: no actual sex, goes from fluff/emotions to slightly smutty/lime-y territory, mentions of lingerie, marriage, and breeding kink

Word Count: 1603 write only 500 words i thought i have hw i thought but nooooooo my god my poor grades

Your laptop was open on your lap, and you were on your boyfriend’s lap. Or, well, between his legs. It was just a natural thing to do when you were working late, and he wasn’t. Even though the two of you have been together for years, having Tony surround you was still as comforting as it was the first time. 

Usually, he would be watching videos, reviewing holograms, or just spending his time on instagram, keeping up his account as an Avenger and public figure. But, that time, as you were writing up plans for the next week, Tony wasn’t doing anything. So as you mumbled things you had to do, Tony’s rough and calloused fingers ran up and down your sides, arms, and thighs, gently and slowly. 

It wasn’t until you felt his gaze linger so long on your face that you smiled, and without looking up from your laptop, you asked teasingly, “You have pictures, Tony.”

“That I do.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek, and his lips brushed against your ear as he said, “Love that last picture you sent me, by the way.”

You laughed, the heat crawling up your neck and settling in your cheeks, before elbowing him in the side. “Look at those, then.” You went back to your laptop, and only realized your mistake when his lips gently met your neck and he said, “Careful what you ask for, sweetheart.” One of his hands trailed down to the top of your thigh, and before Tony could do anything you grabbed his wrist. “I have wo-”

His other hand rose to view a hologram. Your not-so-work-appropriate picture flashed before you for a second. You yelped and swiped the hologram away. “Tony!” you laughed.

Your boyfriend only bit his lip to hide a mischievous smile. Because just as the first picture disappeared, Tony brought up another picture. “Look at that!”

“Stop it!” You closed your lap and put that down. 

You closed the second picture, only for Tony to hug you to his chest, restricting your arms and hands. “No,” you whined. “Not the pictures!”

“What pictures?”

You struggled against his hold with the biggest smile on your face. “Tony-”

“Oh, these?” With a simple flick of his finger, holographic pictures of you, in lingerie, from that magazine shoot, in sweatpants and his MIT shirt, from last year’s Holiday Gala, blueprints for jewelry, in a four-piece suit, in an Iron Man-

Wait, was that jewelry?

Tony stiffened beneath you, and his grip on you loosened enough, that you were able to comfortably lay on his chest and search for those blueprints you saw. Why were there blueprints in this folder?

“On second thought, what about that TIME shoot?” Tony dismissed all the pictures, and one by one, they disappeared.

You scanned all the pictures, and just as the blueprints whizzed past you, you shot out your hand and held it from being dismissed. “Gotcha!”

“Honey-”

With two hands, you zoomed in and blew up the blueprints so you could see every detail. You read blueprints kinda like how you read. From left to right. So before seeing the whole picture, you looked in the top left corner. A drawing of many models of the arc reactor. From the original circular one to the triangular one. 

After the line of reactors was something big and circular. Fashioned out of metal from the original arc reactor and topped with a diamond. 

A diamond. Your breath caught in your throat, and tears burned in your eyes. This wasn’t a standard, life-changing invention of Tony’s. It was a ring. Blueprints for a ring. 

Immediately overwhelmed, you dismissed the blueprints.

Tony and you have been together for three years, almost four. You’ve admitted that you’ve had thoughts about marriage a few times. The first time was when he was being rushed to the med wing, and you were running by his side. 

“You can’t die on me, ok? Who am I supposed to marry then, huh?”

Even though he had been in pain, Tony Stark’s scrunched up expression softened until he was gazing at you. “Demanding bride-to-be,” he had teased. “Telling me not to die.”

The other few times were much more casual. The two of you had even talked about kids. More than half the times, Tony got off on the idea of you being pregnant with his kids. So, of course, you knew he was going to be the person you were going to marry.

It would be beautiful. Even if the two of you just went to court to sign some papers, it would be a day where you became his, and Tony Stark became yours. What a day that would be. 

“You,” Tony sighed, “weren’t supposed to see that.”

He was so tense, arms so stiff around you. Instinctively, you rubbed circles into his knuckles as you let your thoughts roam and settle. But there were so many thoughts. Of marrying Tony, of how long he had been planning this, of loving this man with all you could for all your life. 

So, instead of staying quiet, you gulped down your inhibitions and admitted, “If I were to… marry anybody.” You shrugged. “It would be you.” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was gazing down at you. You desperately wanted to see his face, but you knew that once your eyes met Tony’s, you’d cry. So, you continued, “I mean, I love you.” Your face felt so hot. How was it this hot? 

Your boyfriend opened his mouth and closed it again to gulp. His throat must’ve been dry. Even after that, he was silent for a while, too many unspoken things in the air. Suddenly, he let out a laugh. “You really weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Oh, hey.” You turned around and straddled him. He avoided your gaze, but even so, you ran your fingers through his hair and reassured him, “I didn’t see all of it.”

“You weren’t supposed to see any of it.” Dejected, he let his head drop on your chest

“I still don’t know a lot about it, Tony.” You sighed and pulled away so you could cup his cheeks and really look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, and a few tears had escaped. “Oh, my love,” you said. “Tone, I still don’t know how you’re going to do it.” You smiled. “Or when? I mean, it could be our anniversary, my birthday, the holidays, or any other regular day you could propose. And I always knew I was going to marry you.” You wiped away one of his tears, and when he began to smile, you laughed. ��There you are!” You threw your arms around him.

Tony welcomed the embrace, and he hung onto you like a lifeline. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” he said.

“Are you kidding me?” You kissed his neck, his cheek, and left one on his lips. “I get to be Tony Stark’s, and you get to be mine.” You pushed back his hair and let your hands rest on his shoulders. “Any day where that’s true is perfect to me.”

Your boyfriend, your future fiance, your future husband, he looked at you like you were the stars in the sky. His smile was so soft that you wanted to kiss it, but you let him realize that you weren’t going anywhere, that it wasn’t a dream, that you really did want to marry him. 

Finally, Tony’s smile sharpened into a smirk. “So that’s a yes to three kids?”

“This again?”

“Yes, this again.” His voice was so deep, and you almost forgot that this was the same man who cried because you found out his secret plan. Tony leaned in closer and placed a few open-mouthed kissed on your neck. “You’d like being full of me, wouldn’t you?”

Just like that, you were all his. His kisses were so slow, and they lingered on your skin and left heat behind. “Tony,” you sighed. 

“Greatest sign of being mine, honestly.” He breathed out, letting the air hit the place where your neck and shoulder met. “I could leave a hickey, sure.” Just like that, he sucked the skin right above the collar of your t-shirt.

“Fuck.”

He licked the newly forming hickey. “Yeah, but just fucking you?” He shook his head and lifted up your left hand. “No, I want a ring here.” He kissed your ring finger. “And-”

You smiled. “You’re insatiable.”

“You love it.” He bit his lip and looked at you, from your head to the thighs still straddling his waist. “And a part of me” -his hand traveled from your waist to your stomach- “right here.”

You gasped for air.

Tony leaned forward again, his lips coming to brush up against your ear and his chest perfectly pressing against yours. His hands found their place on your hips. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” He started kissing your neck again, his beard and mustache tickling your skin and sparking heat in your core. 

He nipped your neck in a particularly sensitive spot. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” You gulped and held his head where it was, never wanting his kisses to stop. “Yes, I want that.”

“Good.” He left your neck just to kiss you hard. Even when you moaned against him, Tony’s lips never left yours. And when he pulled away, you were dizzy. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

His hands gripped your waist, and you whimpered. Tony said, his voice dark and straight-up sinful, “Well, we better practice putting that kid inside you.”

[astoldbycrimson]

There's Power in a Name

Summary: Reader is a blind, force sensitive Dathomirian (and jedi). She saved Mando's life while he sought after a bounty on her planet. Nearly a year into their travels, she still doesn't know his name.

(This is ripped straight from my personal fanfiction series. I just changed my OC into the reader. If this does well, I will post more excerpts from my fic.)

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x f!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, injuries, and death

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

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

"...Are you going to let me help you?" Mando asked as you both boarded his ship. "That looks… uncomfortable."

You shook your head and offered a shaky smile. You felt as though you'd taken a lightsaber to the back, but you didn't want to worry your companion. "I can handle this myself, Guns. It's just a scratch." You turned to approach the cockpit when a gloved hand circled your wrist. 

"...Let me help you for once, (Y/N)." It was honest and strangely sincere. The way he said your name, even with the modulator, made your skin crawl. 

You'd been playing this back and forth for a while now. Dancing a fine line between friendship and something more. Something foreign. Mando would allow you to share his space without complaint. He let you heal his wounds and touch him without flinching. You spoke far more frequently, but he was still reserved. Very little was shared in regards to your pasts and you still didn't know his real name.

After a reluctant sigh, you nodded. "Very well."

Mando set up a little station with his mobile bed, preparing the cauterizer as he gestured for you to lie down. 

You did as was requested and carefully lowered yourself until you were laying, body faced forward with Mando at your back.

You felt him fidget with the torn part of your garment, grumbling when he couldn't get a good view of the wound. "You might need to…" he cut himself off, trying to find a polite way around it.

"Remove my shirt?" You finished and you heard him grunt in response. 

Your face flushed at the thought of stripping in front of the Mandalorian, especially because he could clearly see all of you while you in turn saw nothing. But you planned to have a little fun with this situation. "I don't even know your name, Mando, and you want me to strip for you?" You teased and you could sense him stiffen. 

Before he could respond, you were undoing your sash and tugging the garment down, exposing the soft flesh of your back to the Mandalorian. Mando felt himself blush definitely under his helmet. How could you have such an effect on him? 

As he prepared his tools, his eyes wandered over your exposed flesh. He felt himself wanting to touch it, run his fingers over your sunkissed skin. He subconsciously extended a hand to do so, but stopped himself as his eyes found a gnarly scar covering the expanse of your right shoulder blade. The hunter wondered who could've done this to you.

"You won't break me, Mando. Just get it over with," your voice ripped him from his thoughts.

"...R-right… This may sting a little. I just need to clean the wound before I seal it."

You nodded and winced slightly as he wiped the disinfectant over the open wound. He mumbled an apology, but continued until it was clean. "Now this is going to burn, but it shouldn't take long." After you gave the okay, he turned the cauterizer on and began working. 

He couldn't stop thinking about your scar and how you acquired such a serious injury. It wasn't during your travels with him, that's for sure. Besides, it looked fully healed and quite old. Before he could extinguish his curiosity, Mando had already opened his mouth. "...How'd you get that scar?"

You were trying to think of something besides the burning sensation when you heard his question. You visibly stiffened a moment, realizing he'd never seen the deep scar of your history. But rather than shaking it off, you opted to share this painful memory in hopes that maybe he'd open up too.

"Long before my birth, my mother was part of the Rebel Alliance. A true Dathomir warrior, fighting for the end of a tyrannical regime. Unfortunately she had acquired a serious injury and was forced to return to her homeland before the war was won. But it was on Dathomir that she met my father.

"Having been a warrior for the Alliance, my mother always had a target on her back. She knew that, but she couldn't stop herself from falling in love. And then later having a child. Me. But years passed after my birth and no one came for her, so her worries dissipated and she was able to settle into her role as mother and wife. Happiness and peace were abundant in our village. Everything seemed perfect for her.

"It was a quiet morning, shortly after my fifth cycle, when my mother and I went into the Vast to pick some fruits for breakfast. We were singing an ancient song as we went about our picking. It was happy and the forest around us was peaceful. It felt like just another day. But then my mother heard the beeping she had so deeply feared. Shortly after, blaster fire echoed through the forest and then everything silenced.

"My mother fought hard to defend me, calling upon the force surrounding us to fight off the hunters. But her old injuries had weakened her greatly and having not needed to fight for so many years didn't help her. While she was able to relieve them of their blasters, she was unable to fend them both off. Mother used her final bit of strength to shield me before collapsing.

"But as they approached her dying body, and raised their blade, I ran to her, covering her body at the last second… Father had gotten to us shortly after, destroying the bounty hunters that had harmed his family as if they were mere insects. But unfortunately it made no difference. He was too late. Mother had already gone off to be a new star…" Your voice was weak and your body began to tremble, the memory drawing fresh tears from your eyes.

Mando had remembered you speaking of your father, the chef he'd met at the cantina nearly a cycle ago. But he didn't recall you ever mentioning your mother. And now, as he heard your tale, he regretted asking you. Yet the situation of your past made him feel closer to you, knowing you had experienced loss so young in life as well.

He had finished cauterizing the wound a while ago, but sat quietly, listening to your painful story. At the sight of you shaking, tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, his fist clenched around the tool so hard he nearly snapped it.

This sort of thing hadn't happened before. Mando wasn't good with emotions. Bounty hunters had to be stoic. Emotionless. It made the job easier. Made killing easier. The sob stories of his bounties never affected him. Moments like this weren't supposed to bother him, but here he was hurting for you. 

He was silent as he gathered the tools and rose to put them back in the med cabinet. Mando was touched that you had shared something so painful from your past. It started to eat away at him that he had yet to share something equally personal with you.  

Finally he broke the silence, turning to face you, his voice barely above a whisper. "...Din."

You pulled your shirt back up as he stood to walk away and retied the sash. You weren't hurt by his obvious lack of outward empathy. Emotions weren't exactly his thing. He needed to be detached from that in this line of work. Bounty hunting wasn't for the weak hearted.

But you turned to face him when you finally heard him speak. "I'm sorry?"

"...My name. It's Din. Din Djarin." 

As you heard those words, your tears stopped. "Din Djarin," you tested it on your tongue and it tasted very sweet. Soon a warm smile spread across your face as you gazed warmly at him.

Saying his name aloud was a weird feeling for him, but when you said it... it was almost angelic. Seeing your smile made his chest tighten and soon a soft smile tugged at his own cheeks. That's when Din knew he had fallen way too hard. There was no escaping this...

[bojackhoremanisacomfortshow]

Saying Goodbye  thank you for being a chapter in my life

but I miss you or the memory of you I think ? 

and I miss the future you made me believe existed 

I cant fucking believe I trusted you when you said you loved me 

God was I blind 

I considered you a brother 

I should’ve suspected you when you first asked if we could be fuck buddies at 20, even though you had a girlfriend at the time 

But I ignored it because you actually gave two shits, called me on your way home from work and talked me out of self harming, and you didn't treat me as lesser then because of what was going on with me, instead you brought me homemade fucking cream and applied it to my raw bleeding arm while proceeding to wrap it with gauze and tape, while saying that he wants to help me make sure that this dosnet happen again. 

But as most things are, they are not what they seem 

I should've noticed when you started to tell me your relationship problems and the more you opened up about your relationship the more you started to make comments towards me. But we were friends and friends are supposed to help and talk to each other about again for christ sake I called him my brother, which he then told me not to call him, I would find out why later, but you started talking more and more about how you thought your relationship wasn't healthy and that she wasn't ‘doing it for you anymore’ but I just told you that you should talk to her because you both deserved to be happy and in a healthy relationship, his girlfriend seems like a great person, my sister knew her, and I honestly feel bad for any part I had in this but I was a naive sophomore and he was a senior going through it I think, he did have his own shit. 

And I began trusting him more, I mean he came and got me when my loved one was going through a family crisis. He actually found out before me and came right to me and told me, and he was there, every step, and sat with me and comforted my loved one with me, they were ‘friends’ too. The little things like that made me trust him and my trust develops into love, he saw me sitting there freaking out, with my shaking hands barley grasping at colored pencils while I tried to take my anxieties out on a sun shaped coloring sheet. And when you saw me give up with the pencils and began to dig and scratch my nails into my skin, you quietly, but forcefully stopped my hands from destroying myself and told me it was okay and that if I needed to squeeze something, to grip yours. The security you brought me was undeniable, finally I had stability and protection in my life, a safe person. And when we were walking back, even though you were late you insisted on walking me back. On the walk back you knew that I was upset, because you could read me, I shared more of my soul with you than anyone I ever had before. Like adult shit type feelings here, but another red flag! You came right back into my life the minute I broke up with my ex of almost a year... and I hadn't heard from you in almost a year. And while you knew I was upset you stopped me and said, ‘hey it’s gonna be okay, whatever happens WE’LL take care of her,’ and I started to cry and you hugged me, and I felt safe. And you listened and gave a shit as I told you that I was afraid my loved one would make my same mistakes and end up in my shoes. And you just hugged me and said we’ll figure it out and god did I believe you. 

And everything was good and I ignored the comments you made about something more, as we hung out and got food, because you wanted to make sure I ate and didn't have to go home right away to my dad. Until that breezy drizzly night in March. 

You had convinced me to go rock climbing, something I would never do as I am really afraid of heights, like close my eyes on glass elevators type of scared. But I trusted you and you promised to catch me if I fall. Which you quite literally did when I was practicing on the monkey bars. I was nervous, admirably, but I was stepping out of my comfort zone and trying, and like you promised when I slipped you caught me and actually left a chalk handprint on my ass which we casually laughed off. We had fun and eventually just ended up talking, like we always did, we could literally talk for hours on end, I miss those conversations, and he decided that he was going to take me for sushi for my first time, which was also something I was timid of trying. 

So we went and I actually loved it, so thank you for that. And afterwards we decided to go to the park and walk around, which we did and as it was drizzling our clothes become drenched with the secrets we shared as well as the precipitation from the sky. Eventually we decided to go into the back of the library and we warmed up next to a heater and sat next to one another, neither of us said anything as I realized he began to sit closer. 

On the walk back to his car he saw I was shivering and insisted on giving me his sweatshirt because I was cold, even though I protested as I didn't want to take his things and said that he should instead wear it, but I lost that argument and on went his faded green hoodie. 

Under the stars we talked in his car, and as we began to share things that we realized we had never shared before, and he suggested we move to the back seat. We continued talking and eventually I teared up and tried to hide it as we touched on a sensitive subject, but he of course knew and told me to ‘come here’ as he proceded to embrace me.

We didn't say much but eventually I realized I should get home, but not before you took a cursory look at my lips. But we both looked away and you drove me home and he said he would text me when he got home. 

That night when you got home you told me how you wish you had fucked me in you backseat and that you had more then enough room, which was true, but I admired I thought the same thing but I told him it was good we didn't and that he needed to figure things out in his relationship. 

And you told me you would, and I assumed you did, and we still talked and hung out, and I began to feel bad about being a ‘homewrekcer’ 

But you told me we weren't doing anything wrong and I believed you. Or at least I used to. Quite frankly it took a considerable amount of time for me to remove my rose colored glasses

As we always did you called me that night and we snapped and talked about our days. I had said I had a rough one which was evident as I was drunk on the phone and he knew I had been drinking. After we talked and he asked why I was drinking I realized the conversation started to take a turn. 

You began to bring up more explicit content and began to say how you know that I never send nudes but was wondering if I would try for him. I mean after all it was just him right, and I trusted him, and it was no big deal, and he wouldn't tell anyone. And I told him no, and no again until he understood, and I laughed it off as I decided this warranted some more liquor as I got off the phone with him. I was also on prozac at the time, and let me say I don't recommend drinking with your meds. 

Thinking I could just enjoy my music and the drunk snacks I had I get a snap from you, asking again, and this time you begin to tell me how it isn't a big deal and you’ve seen loads of your friends boobs before. I hate myself for giving in but I decided to send him a few pictures from my eyes only, no nudes but pictures I didn't show anyone, except my friends for when we occasionally give each other tips on taking seductive photos. Just a typical Friday night am I right?

So I sent them, and you were happy and we hung out the next day. You didn't know it but I felt extremely guilty and thought I had ruined our friendship and that we shouldn't see each other again especially because of his girlfriend. 

But we hung out and I profusely apologized and ya know what he said, he touched my arm and went its okay its not your fault, it was a one time thing and I asked and kept asking. If if was anyones fault it was mine. He reassured me it was not a big deal and my naive daddy issues ass went along with it. 

I told him he should tell his girlfriend and he just reassured me that it would only make things worse and that he was still finding the time to talk to her. 

On the car ride home you began talking about what would happen in a ‘different life’ or maybe even in a year or two. He was sticking around and going to a local college and he began telling me of all the fun things he had planned for us to do over the summer. I planned to show him all my special spots in the woods and my first time taking shrooms was gonna be with him, and it would’ve been his first time too. 

It was a common occurrence for him to say he loved me and for me to love him back, he considered me one of his closest friends and we continued talking daily, we were each others number one on snap for months, not that it really means anything but he did say he began checking his phone more because he hoped that I would have messaged him. I should’ve realized that our situation ship was bad when before he even starting making advances he randomly got considerably angry at a guy who had made a comment about me.

This may be ‘good friend’ behavior but he knew I was single and flirting with people, as I had just recently broken up with my ex, not saying the guys comment was justified because it wasn't I was not trying to hook up just talk to more people, but what can you do that's high school boys. 

The story I got was that this guy said to him that he was ‘getting bored of his girl’ and ‘was thinking of smashing me’. My ‘first love’ got as I heard ‘really really angry’ and began venting to his friends about how ‘it was ridiculous he would even say that, as if he had a chance, he was talking about you like a piece of meat’ needless to say he was less then happy about that, which okay not a huge thing just kinda protective which can be nice sometimes.

But in hindsight, he would make an attempt to prelude me from other guys and used to give me offhand comments if I ever mentioned I was talking to someone. 

Eventually he did break up with his girlfriend for a day, and in a melancholy way I was happy because I thought it meant you had finally told your girlfriend and I could stop carrying the guilt of what happen around. 

But of course you didn't. 

You, didn't say anything to me for a day, and then told me that you went back to her and made a promise to be better because this is the last time she is going to go through ‘this’ with him.

I asked him if he had told her the truth, and distinctly told him that, ‘she deserves to know the truth, she is a good person, and if getting together makes you guys happy good, but she deserves a relationship not built on lies’ 

He responded that his girlfriend had ‘trust issues’ and telling her would just make things worse. 

Yeah no shit she has trust issues you jerk

I said that I can't force him to do anything and took some space, as I felt weird about the whole thing. Later that night my friend who I had not spoken to in a while checked up on me and asked me what was wrong. 

I informed her of my situation and to my surprise she shared her own altercation  with him. It wasn't to the extent of what happened between us but he had began talking to her when he had found out her boyfriend and her were on a break. She confessed that on a call when they were going to be talking about what was going on with her, he began pressuring her into sending nudes, and I’m sure using the same manipulative tendencies he used on me. 

Looking back I know he did this to at least me and two other girls, and really I feel bad for his I believe still current girlfriend 

So its been about a year since all this happened and I am finally in a place where I can begin to process some of the shit that has occurred in my life even if it’s a year late! 

And I wish no mal intent on you, I’m sure you’ll never read this and god I hope you don't. But I always want to thank you for being my first love, even if I didn't know it at the time. 

You were the first person to call be beautiful without being prompted and genuinely mean it. I felt beautiful that day. And for when you told me you began to drive safer when I was in the car with you, and how you used to call me on your way home from work each night. 

Thank you for making me feel those things and showing me a safe place in a person can exist. I’ll never forget when you skipped your lunch period to come to mine and wrap my scabby ass arm for at least a week or two. (Again prozac and alcohol not a good combination) You also made sure I ate and encouraged me to take care of myself. 

You showed me genuine care and made me believe that I am deserving of those things. Fuck yeah it was hard when we both ‘left’ after things got too weird. And yeah maybe I struggle sometimes but I’m learning. 

I know I will always remember you in some way, just because I don’t think I’ll ever forget that genuine of a connection, but I am also only remembering the feelings of the rose but in nature roses have thorns, I can't pretend they don't. 

I think the hardest part is not knowing which parts were real and which parts were fake. The second-guessing, the trust issues thing, but that's not all on you, I have work I need to do. 

I’m kinda happy in a way to be able to get this all off my chest it’s been heavy and maybe this won't fix everything in my life rn but it’s giving me a place to feel. 

If you could see me now you would probably laugh because you were right in some regards. I did become a complete stoner, so point you! It honest to god does help and I’m at a place where I am able to use it medicinally when needed. I also did end up piercing my nose! The gold hoop was a good suggestion but it honestly is the only one I could get in my nose, and I have acrylic nails now so I’m not fucking with it! I’m actually living back at my moms too, a lot of shit has changed and happened and I know I am a completely different person today then I was a year ago

Which is why I can say with no ill intent I thank the universe for bringing you into my life and letting you become a chapter with fun excerpts in my story. I have been moving forward in my story though and I know you have been too

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Day 11 : I Love You - Dabi

“Oh, come on, really?! AGAIN?! It’s the 5th time this week, and it’s only Friday! Why can’t I get a bit of rest? I swear, Mercury is in retrograde or something, ‘cause the stars are shitting on me.” I grumbled in annoyance as the TV showed Dabi getting cornered by some pro-heroes once again.

Sighing, I grab a random coloured short wig and a mask, teleporting to his location, and trying my best not to show my front to the cameras or heroes, I quickly teleport with Dabi back home, panting in exhaustion since it took a lot of strength to pull this off.

I threw away the wig and the mask, trying my best not to look at the idiot next to me, knowing full well how incredibly pissed off I’d get, but obviously, he just has to be a little shit and make light of the situation.

“I had it aaaaaaaall under control, babe. But thanks for caring so much about me. Come on, let’s go and mess around with some petty idiots.” he chuckled lightly, but his voice grated my so much that it made me turn around faster than expected, ready to slap his face.

But I couldn’t.

Before my hand could collide with his face, I was able to stop myself by catching my wrist with my other hand.

“I really pissed you off, didn’t I, toots?” he asked with a smirk on his face, but I had no energy to give in to his jokes. “I’m done with you. Leave me alone. Next time, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from doing something I’d morally regret.” I mumbled, trembling slightly and pushed past him roughly, slamming my bedroom door and locking in, before sliding down and breaking down sobbing. 

The stress and pressure that Med school was pushing on me, combined with the lack of taking care of my health and my boyfriend being an obsolete jerk who has no consideration for my feelings and makes me worry constantly made me easily lose sight of my mental health, and here I am, spiraling and hurting just as bad as during my darkest times.

I’m so done with letting others walk all over me and my feelings...I’ve had enough of this...I just want to be free and be happy.

“Babe, come on, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realise that I was making you feel bad. I just got  too caught up with the League and other things that I neglected you without realising. Forgive me.” he knocked and said through the wall, but I was far too gone in my mind to hear any of his words...They all sounded the same. “Go away! I don’t want to be around you anymore! I don’t give a fuck about me anyways, so leave me alone! The League this, the League that...But what about me?! When is it my turn to exist in your life without it being me getting you out of the mess you’re putting yourself through?!” I retort in a voice higher than I hoped for, slightly broken here and there. “Look, I know I fucked up, but let’s talk, okay? I have a few things to tell you. I know I hurt you and all that, but I care about you, sweetcheeks, and I didnt want things to turn out this way.” he replied in a calm voice, knowing full well that things weren’t exactly pink around. “Just go away like you always do! You’re so good at that, aren’t you? Come on, make some stupid joke and pretend nothing is wrong, like you always do. Don’t listen to a word I say, you’re so good at that, right? You do it every day.” I hug my knees closer to myself, wanting to disappear. “Kat, come on, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise how bad I hurt you until now, but if you’d just let me explain. I was scared. I admit, I know I fucked up and I hurt you, I know, but...I was scared. I just...” he sighed and started talking in a lower voice, and by the sound of it, he slid down the door too. “I started feeling...Something that wasn’t bad anymore. Something that made me realise that I shouldn’t hate everything around me just because my past was fucked up. I took you for granted and didn’t think much of you at the beginning, so I just stood passive at everything you said or wanted to do that involved me. But for a while now, you started getting under my skin a lot more than I would like to admit and I started feeling something that I’ve never felt before...So I was afraid.” he explained, hitting his head on the door. “Don’t hurt yourself, you idiot. You hurt me enough as it is, don’t do that to yourself too.” I grumbled, biting my lip at my own words, earning a chuckle. “See? Others wouldn’t even care that I did that, but you did. You care about me so much that you sticked around for so long and tried to take care of me and my well-being. And I was a jerk. I did nothing, because I was a coward. You deserve someone so much better than me, Kat. You deserve some good guy who’s not afraid to show off with you and who would give you the world without batting an eyes. Someone who isn’t afraid to admit to themselves that...That...” he began to say, but quieted down for a while. “That...What, Dabi?” I asked softly, managing to calm down a bit. “That...They are in love.” he was able to say after a while, making me gasp in shock. “What...Did you say...?” I somehow choked out, not believing my ears. “I love you, Kat. I was so afraid to admit this, because if I did, it would become real. And if it got real, then that would meant that something changed completely. I know you already said it to me some time ago, and you’ve been saying it ever since. You didn’t have to say it, I already knew you did. Nobody is so sweet with no reason, nor do they behave so carefully with someone else. You are someone who has so much love to give to those around her, and then there’s me, someone who has so much hate that it’s bursting constantly. You are special and too good for me. I was selfish. I loved the attention and affection more than I wanted to admit and I didn’t realise I was draining you until it was too late and I hoped that by staying away it would help you. Guess it only did worse.” he confessed in a sad voice, almost content. “Dabi...” my heart ached at his words, finally true and full of meaning and raw emotion.

I sighed and decided to walk over my non-existent pride and hurt once again and opened the door, crouching down behind him, putting my hands on his shoulders, not letting him look back at me.

“You’ve always let your pride and ego destroy you.” I said nonchalantly, and he only nodded and put one of his hands over mine. “I know. I am full of flaws, I know. I’ve been trying to live that in the past and go my way...But you don’t seem to leave me alone. You’re always in my mind and every time I do something, I think how it would affect you. I want to be able to love you like you deserve, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you the world. I want to love you, Kat, with more than just my feelings. I want you to feel that I love you, not just hear it. I don’t want you to hear me complaining all the time, I don’t to support you and heal you. I’ve been selfish, I only cared about my pain, but I did nothing about yours. You’ve been healing me all this time, while I only damaged you. And for that I am sorry.” he apologised again, making me nod, my heart reaching out to him. “Are you willing to change this? Or are you giving up without even trying to become better?” I asked, wanting to hear the truth. “Kat...Come here. I want you to look at me when I say it, so you will know I’m not lying.” he begged, not trying to look back, in case I would get annoyed. “Okay.” I breathed out, and went on my knees between his legs, but had not yet the power to look at his face. “I hurt you so much that you can’t even look at me.” he sighed, leaning towards me and putting one of his hands on my face, while the other stroked a streak of my hair. “I know how much you’ve been hurt in the past, and you don’t deserve everything I put you through. I know you’ve heard so many empty promises before, but will you let me change that? I want to be better, just for you...I want us to be good. We’d be so good together, if only I wouldn’t be such an asshole, but I’m ready to change. Because I love you. I swear I do. So Kat, please, give me one more chance. Let me heal you. Let me help you grow. Let me love you. Let me make you happy. You’re the only person in my life who ever cared about me, and I let you down.” he explained again, making me sigh and raise my gaze to his brilliant blue eyes, just like his cremating fire. “Say it again. Look at me, and promise that you won’t do this again, because I won’t forgive you again. My heart can’t handle it anymore. I don’t want this anymore.” I made him promise, and he leaned forward, capturing my lips in a soft kiss, as if he was afraid I would break, which wasn’t too far from the truth. “I love you, Katrina. I promise I won’t ever make you cry, and if I do, it will be from happiness, for I know you are a very sensitive and sweet girl. I promise you, you won’t have to be afraid that I will hurt you, because I won’t. You won’t have to go through any of that shit again. I want to love you, to show you how much I love you, mentally, emotionally, physically, in any way existent, I just want to erase every bad thing that I’ve done to you and replace it only with happy and good memories. I promise.” he promised once again, making me look away, my cheeks slightly rosy from his desperate display of emotions. “Okay...Okay, I forgive you...Just, keep your promise...And...Uhmm...” I close my eyes for a few seconds longer, slightly more flustered than before, making him chuckle lowly, tilting his head trying to meet my gaze. “What is it, babe?” he asked in his characteristically darker and more seductive voice. “Uhmm...You could...Say it more often, I guess...” I said, barely above a whisper. “Say what more often? That I love you? That I think you’re beautiful? That you’re so godamn smart and cool? That I want to stay with you forever and make you happy in any way possible? What is it, babe, are you getting shy? Do you want to hear more?” by now, I was on his lap, his arms around my waist, him talking in my ear, his hot breath blowing on my neck skin. “Well, what can I say, it’s pretty hot hearing someone giving a damn about me. So yeah, say it more, I’m enjoying myself.” I smirk, resting my arms on his shoulders, earning another low chuckle as he looked at me with such a look that it made the hair on my neck rise. “Well, kitten, you’re about to hear a hell of a lot of compliments for me, so be prepared, ‘cause my kitten is the best girl in the world and I won’t let anything upset her again, ever.” he nudged my face with his nose like a cat would, then kissed my neck gently, holding me even closer to him. “That’s what I like to hear, babe.” I giggled softly as I cupped his face and kissed him deeply, forgetting about everything that happened today and letting my heart take over and achieve its happiness.

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 3

Word Count: 2,236

Life with Yoongi was turning you into a master of compromise, admittedly in his favor. He would request all windows and doors were to remain open, you would insist on the bathroom door being closed when you were in there. He insisted on a diet that consisted of meat, cheese, and half & half ( “Milk is basically white water and cream is too thick. It has to be half and half.”). You convinced him to have a salad at least once a week. He demanded fifteen hours of uninterrupted silence during the day for his sleep, you talked him down to ten at night and a five hour nap while you were at work. Basically, you were a pro negotiator now.

This is why it wasn’t a surprise to you that you’d been on the phone with a sick Yoongi for the past five minutes explaining that no, you weren’t going to bring home sashimi for dinner because you highly doubted the story he told about hybrids healing faster if they eat raw meat. You were more than happy to bring home some chicken soup, however. And if he willingly took some vitamin C tablets, you’d even buy some vanilla ice cream to soothe his throat. The promise of the frozen treat seemed to do the trick as he stopped coming up with hybrid health facts that you were certain he was pulling out of his ass and hung up, finally letting you get back to work uninterrupted. 

You sigh wearily as you turn back to your computer, but you can’t help the little fond smile that grows as you think about him. Yoongi was a brat, it was true, but he was never really mean or a problem. You were sure he just got a little thrill every time he was able to trick you into doing what he wanted, thinking himself the most clever of cats. Honestly, you weren’t as dumb as he probably thought you were. Some of his victories came from your ignorance, as you were still learning. You wouldn’t deny that. However, you often let him get away with things just to see his little smirk of victory and obvious happiness. 

Humming, you get back to work. You wanted to try to get some of the basic office work out of the way so you wouldn’t end up behind if you needed to take some time off to take care of Yoongi. 

“Was that your hybrid again?” Your co-worker next to you grinned as she asked, very used to listening to your daily battles with Yoongi. 

“Yeah. He’s had a cold for a couple days and he’s even more demanding than usual. It’s cute, but it would make my life easier if he would stop refusing to go to the vet. I’m sure they have meds that would end it faster.” 

“Oh, he’s one of those. My girl was like that at first too, absolutely refused the vet. We got her on a rewards system now though. Every time she does a task successfully, like going to the vet without whining or learning a new trick, she gets a star on the board. Once she reaches a certain amount, she gets a treat. Like a trip to the park or a new toy. You should try something like that with yours.” 

Something about the way she said it struck you as not only childish but slightly demeaning. Tricks? They weren’t actual dogs. You were certain if you tried to teach Yoongi an actual trick he’d flip you off and lock you out of your own bedroom. 

“I don’t know. Yoongi was a stray, so he’s a little more sensitive than most,” you mutter, trying to keep your opinion to yourself. Last thing you needed was a co-worker that hated you because you called them a hybridist. 

“Well, at the very least, you should have him trained a little more. My Lola wouldn’t dream of bothering me at work unless it was an emergency. Something like that would mean she’d have to move her mat out of my bedroom for the night and into the living room.” 

“A mat? She doesn’t sleep with you?” 

“Goodness, no. Hybrids aren’t allowed on the furniture, dear. You have to establish dominance, and letting them onto the couch or your bed makes them think they own the house. This is your first one, isn’t it?” 

You nod silently and keep your thoughts to yourself. You felt really bad for this Lola. You know Yoongi would have ran away from this woman in a day. He may be a brat, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. 

“Well, just remember that you’re the owner and they’re the pet. I’ll email you a few links to some great sites that can help.” 

Thankfully, she goes back to work after that. To think, you used to like this woman. She was a great paralegal, but apparently a shit person. 

You sigh and glance around your area, wondering what the chances were of Yoongi letting you take a picture of him. You could frame it and liven your desk up a little more. You grin at the thought of the battle you’d have to go through just to get one decent photo. He would put up a fight for sure, but all you’d have to do is compliment and praise him enough for him to think he’d be doing you a favor. The best way to get him to do anything was to make him think it was his own idea. It would have to wait until after he wasn’t sick though. 

With the reminder of your sick kitty, you power through your work for the day, anxious to get home to him. 

♦

You juggle the multiple bags to the kitchen and quickly stick the ice cream in the freezer before you go searching for your hybrid. After checking the bedroom which turned out to be empty, you realize that the lump of blankets on the couch is actually him when you spot a single ear poking out, moving whichever direction you headed. 

A single sneeze came from the kitten burrito, sounding more like it came from a mouse than the usually gravelly voiced hybrid. 

“Yoongi, I brought you dinner. You gonna get up?” 

“Did you bring my sashimi?” 

His poor voice makes you cringe, rough with the coughs and sore throat that he’s been dealing with. You hated seeing him like this. 

“No. I brought you chicken soup, which will actually help you feel better.” 

He pulled the blanket down to pout at you, still looking adorable as he did so despite the watery eyes and red nose. He sniffed and battled a cough before frowning again. 

“I’m not getting up. You’re going to have to feed me.” 

You raise an eyebrow which he merely counters with one of his own. Finally, after a few second standoff, you sigh and go grab the bag with his food, along with some water since you doubted he’d had any today. You also grab the bottle of vitamin C tablets, since it didn’t look like he’d even gotten up today so you were sure he hadn’t taken one yet. 

You set everything up on the coffee table and he scoots up a little bit so that the blanket is around his shoulders, leaving his head out. You take the chance to reach out and feel his forehead, grimacing a bit when you realize it’s a little warmer than it was this morning. 

“If that gets worse, we’re going to the vet whether you like it or not. You can die from high fevers, Yoongi.” 

“I’m a hybrid. I have a naturally higher body temperature than a human, so you don’t know what to judge by. This is fine.” 

You didn’t like it, but you promised yourself you’d keep an eye on it anyway. Hopefully having a decent meal and plenty of water will help for now. You take the lid off the chicken soup, smiling as the aroma hits you. The lady that owned the restaurant was very fond of Yoongi, as the two of you were regulars there, and she had fussed when you told her he was sick. You could tell that she’d put extra ginseng and broth in the soup today to help him get better. 

You take a big spoonful of the rice and broth and tear off a piece of the chicken to place on top before blowing gently to cool it. You guide it to Yoongi’s already open and waiting mouth, the cat resembling a baby bird as he did so. You grin as he chews happily, humming to himself. The bowl is quickly devoured, leading you to believe he hadn’t even bothered to get up and feed himself at all today. 

You had him the vitamin C tablet next and let him chew it before forcing him to drink the entire bottle of water. You’re impressed that he went through the entire meal without a single complaint or criticism. 

Of course, it could just be because he wants his treat. 

You go to the kitchen and dish out a single scoop of ice cream and grab more water just in case. When you bring the treat back to the couch, Yoongi’s face lights up and his eyes are glued to the bowl. He moans when the first bite cools his abused throat. He goes through the entire scoop in mere moments, letting his head fall back against the couch in contentment when it was all gone. 

You set the bowl down on the coffee table before reaching over to check his temp again. It still felt pretty much the same, but it hadn’t gotten worse at least. You brush the hair away from his forehead absentmindedly, just hoping to give him some comfort so he’ll fall asleep. He startles you when he shoves his head into your hand, peeking up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Pet me.” 

Your jaw drops in surprise. “Really?” 

Instead of answering, he butts into your hand again. With a growing grin, you thread your hands into his hair, slowly combing through it and occasionally scratching around the bases of his ears. Soon, the unmistakable sounds of purring fill the room and you quickly decide the sick and sleepy Yoongi was one of your favorite things (although you still wished he wasn’t sick, of course). 

Just when you think he’s finally nodded off, his eyes shoot open and he clears his throat.

“Diablo.” 

“What?” 

“That cat you bought me. I need it.” 

You shake your head and you fetch the cat plushie from the nearby recliner. 

“You named it Diablo? Why not mittens or socks? Something cute. Look, it has different colored feet.” 

He glares at you and pulls one hand out of the blanket to reach for it. 

“Fine. Here’s Diablo,” you sigh, handing him the toy. He tucks it near his head, then opens the blankets so quickly that you were unprepared for him to pull you on top of him and wrap them around you. 

“Jesus, you’re burning up in here,” you mumble against the warm chest you’re pressed against. 

He hums and tangles his legs with yours and wraps his tail around your waist. 

“Shut up and sleep,” he orders with a loud yawn, adding his arms to the mix so you were basically trapped in the kitten burrito. 

The purring came back moments later, the rumbling as you laid against his chest oddly soothing. He soon started the little puffs of breathing that meant he was nearly asleep, so you closed your eyes and let yourself join him.

♦

There was a rattling sound that slowly woke you from your slumber, but you stubbornly kept your eyes shut until a beam of bright light hit your eyelids, practically blinding you. You opened your eyes and glared at the offender, which turned out to be a smug cat holding the window blinds open so the sun would hit you right in your face. 

“Get up. You’re going to take me to the park today. I’ve been cooped up for too long.” 

You sit up and observe him with a sleepy scowl that quickly changes to a relieved smile when you realize he’s essentially healthy again. His color looks normal and his eyes are clear, and you haven't heard a single sniffle. 

“All better then?” 

“Yup. Pretty sure it was the ice cream.” 

You roll your eyes and sit up, then take the hand he offers you to help you stand and lead you towards the bathroom. 

“Um...thank you for taking care of me. You didn’t need to go all out, but you did, so yeah. Thanks,” he says softly. 

Before you can answer he quickly leans over and pecks your cheek, blushing brightly, before he essentially shoves you into the bathroom. 

You hold the door, still in shock and feeling the touch of his lips on your skin like a brand. You’re sure the grin you’re sporting is dopey as hell. 

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” 

He nods and starts to walk away from the door, only to pause and throw a smirk over his shoulder. 

“Though, I could have been better in one day instead of three if you’d gotten my sashimi.” 

You adored the brat, you really did. 

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 6b (NSFW)

"Clever boy." Duffy giggled.

Charlie laughed gently, “Can’t wait for later babe.”

"Can I have more cake?" Oli asked.

“Only a little bit, we don’t want you to be sick.”

"Its ok, I'll puke in Paul's bed if I am." Oli laughed.

“Oli, that’s not nice.”

"If you do I'll wee in yours!" Paul shot back.

“Boys!” Charlie shook his head fondly, “Behave.”

The rest of the day passed in a smooth manner. The older two left around 7pm, to stay at their girlfriends and the boys were in bed. The girls were doing god knows what in their rooms.

"Well Krystal is certainly interesting..!" Duffy remarked as she finished loading the dishwasher.

“Interesting is one way of describing her. She was barely wearing anything!”

"Yeh, I saw that you noticed that!" Duffy retorted with a playful glare.

“Where was I supposed to look? She’s quite attractive...”

"Too obvious for my tastes."

Charlie stepped towards her, “Do you fancy having fun?”

"Well it would be rather disappointing for you if your sons got more action than you on your birthday!" She teased.

“That would be disappointing.” He replied as he took Duffy into his arms.

"Shall we see what's waiting for you upstairs then?"

“Yes!” He was enthusiastic.

She led him upstairs. "Wait here." She instructed outside their bedroom door before slipping inside and closing it once more behind her.

He waited outside, pouting a little.

Several minutes later she called from the bedroom. "You can come in now."

He opened the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

The only light in the room came from candles scattered on the dresser and bedside tables. Duffy lay on the bed her hair fanned out across the pillows wearing a new negligee made of black silk and lace.

He smiled as he stepped towards the bed. “Well hello there gorgeous.”

"Does the birthday boy approve?" She purred.

“He approves very much.”

"Fancy showing me how much?" She smirked.

He crawled towards her and gazed down at her. He touched her cheek, “I can’t...”

Duffy raised her eyebrow at him briefly before a hurt look filled her eyes. "Its my fault isn't it?" She whispered, the barely contained tears evident in her voice.

He shook his head and stayed where he was, his hand on her cheek. “I can’t... You know...”

Her brain processed the possibilities. "Is it because of what happened at Christmas? Has the doctor said something? Oh why didn't you tell me?" She'd clearly flipped into nurse mode.

“Duffy, please.” He swallowed, “I can get hard but I can’t finish. I can’t come.” He sighed and lay beside her.

She was still running through the medical possibilities. "Could it be some kind of after effect of the vasectomy reversal, I mean, I know it's been years since you had it done but you never know..."

“No. It’s because of the meds I’m on for the depression.” He sighed, “It really hurt you on Valentine’s Day when I didn’t come, I don’t want to hurt you again.” He admitted.

"But you were fine on those for ages." She replied, her eyebrows knitted together. "I thought that was coz you were angry with me." She sighed.

“I’ve started taking the depression tablets again. I came off them but...” He paused, “Things started getting dark again.”

"Oh sweetheart, why didn't you say? Valentines was probably just a silly one off. We were tired and grumpy."

“I’ve tried since... To come but I can’t.” He sighed.

"You haven't let me try though."

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He moved to lie on his side.

“Because I know you think I’m not attracted to you anymore but that’s not true. You make me as hard as anything.”

"I know I'm not as young and slim as I used to be..." She sighed.

“You’re still just as slim and beautiful as the day we first met.”

"We'll just gloss over the fact I was a stone overweight back then..."

“You weren’t fat when we first met. I thought you had amazing curves.”

"Yet you still teased me when I tried to diet." She pouted.

“I did.” He kissed her lips, “I didn’t want you to lose your curves.” He began to remove his belt from his jeans.

"So that's why you told me avocado was fattening was it? Surely if you hadn't wanted me to lose weight then you would have encouraged me to tuck in instead?" She replied, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

“You’re just perfect, the way you are. Always have been.” His fingertips ran up her side. “So sexy!”

She caressed his cheek. "I do love you. So very much. I'm sorry I'm such a pain sometimes."

“I don’t mind,” He admitted as he lent forward and kissed her tenderly.

She moved her hand to wrap around his shoulders, keeping him close.

“I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

"You would tell me if there was something more serious wrong wouldn't you?"

“It’s just my depression, that’s all.” He stroked her cheek, “Things have been a bit bad lately. I got scared...”

"What scared you?"

“That you may not have wanted me anymore."

"And I thought you'd gone off me..."

“We’re a right pair aren’t we?” He nuzzled his nose affectionately against Duffy’s.

"We really are."

“Communication has never been our strongest point has it?”

"No its not." She chuckled softly.

“You’re my best friend. My whole world. You always were.”

"And you've given me more than I could wish for in even my wildest dreams."

“Our huge chaos of a family?”

"Yes. I was thinking earlier that we might want to invest in a bigger dining table." She giggled.

“Yeah I think we need to.” Charlie moved his head to Duffy’s neck and began to kiss and nibble on her sensitive spot.

"Means more room for other activities too..." She mumbled distractedly.

“I hear you.” His lips moved further down her body.

"I thought you'd approve..." She let out a moan as his touch left a trail of goosebumps on her skin.

“It suits you. I like the lace...” He ran his fingertips up her thighs and parted her legs slightly.

"You alway did like me in lace."

“Always. I remember the first time you ever wore lace for me.”

"The first time I purposefully wore lace for you or the first time you saw me in lace..?" She asked, despite the fact that the path of his tongue was making stringing words together increasingly tricky.

“First time I saw you.” He mumbled in reply as his tongue ran up her thighs.

"Did you really accidentally push the wrong door open coz you were trying to escape an irate patient?" She asked, tilting her head to watch him.

“Yeah. It was completely accidental. A nice surprise though.”

"I'm surprised my shriek didn't bring everyone down on us..!"

He laughed, “That’s true. Are you ok?”

"Yeh, are you?"

“Yeah.” He slowly pulled off her underwear and chucked them. The knickers landing on the lamp.

"I swear you do that on purpose!" She giggled.

“Throw your knickers?”

"Hit the lamp with them."

He didn’t answer as he dived between her legs and ran his tongue over her.

"Oh fuck!" She moaned.

He chuckled softly as he began to pleasure her.

She wasn't sure why she felt so different to the last time they were intimate but it filled her with relief.

As his tongue circled her clit, Charlie reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them in his hands.

She waited for him to notice how much her breasts had shrunk in the last few months.

He noticed but didn’t comment, too busy trying to get her to come.

She became distracted from thinking about her insecurities as he brushed her nipples with his fingertips.

He moved and sighed sadly, “You’re not in the mood?” He asked.

"I am. I'm just so conflicted about how I look." She admitted quietly.

“You’re insecure?” He sat beside her, “Talk to me?” He took her hand in his.

"I..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I fear I'm slipping again..." She whispered.

“With the anorexia?”

"I kept telling myself that I didn't have a problem... I almost had myself convinced..."

“But you do? Is that what you’re telling me, babe?”

"You certainly think I do don't you?"

“You haven’t been yourself for a while. And I’ve noticed changes in your body.” He admitted.

"Tell me the truth. Tell me what you see." She told him as she pulled the duvet around them and rested her head against his chest.

“Every day I wake up with you by my side?”

"Go on..."

“That you haven’t changed from the day I fell in love with you. You’re still just as beautiful. Still as kind and caring, argumentative and infuriating. Your figure is beautiful, your hips, waist, tits and arse are lovely and I love touching them. But they have gotten smaller recently. The thing I miss the most though is the sparkle in those gorgeous green eyes of yours.”

"I've not been sleeping well." She admitted.

“How long?”

"A couple of months."

He kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. “Can we go to the doctors?”

"Can we not try and handle it between ourselves?"

He paused, “We can try, if you’d like that?”

"I'd feel better about that. I trust you to help me."

“We’ll do what we need to together ok?”

"OK. Dare I ask what that's going to be..?"

“I’m not sure yet. Any ideas?” He rested his head lightly against Duffy’s, “Do you fancy an early night, gorgeous? After we’ve finished talking?"

"I'd like us to reconnect properly."

“How shall we do that?”

"I don't know. I miss us being us." She shrugged.

“How about we just sit and talk for a while? Cuddle, snog..?”

"I like that idea." She smiled.

He caught her gaze and smiled, kissing her tenderly. “So do I.”

Duffy fiddled with her fingers for a few moments before leaning out of his arms to reach over to open her bedside drawer. "You're not the only one who has been taking pills again." She mumbled, unable to meet his eye as she placed the packet in his lap.

He picked up the tablets and studied them. “Are these the same ones as last time? Or similar?”

"Similar." She admitted. "I'm sorry."

[puccis-disappointment]

heya, could i have a soft-angst sort of thing for josuke with an S/O who’s been binging/starving? thanks

uhh,,, putting it undercut since this may be some sensitive content for some..

Side note: what I wrote there are of personal experience. The symptoms, dealing and characters actions are reflections of my own. Everyone experience those eating disorders differently, but all of them matter and need psychological treatment and support. If you are suffering from it, please seek help and talk about it with people you trust - if you feel comfortable enough, you can talk to me, too. I am a self-indulged starving survivor. 

“Babe, I didn’t see you eating all day today.”

You blinked, suddenly aware of your surroundings, thanks to Josuke’s sentence breaking the silence.

“I’m not hungry, love. I ate too much yesterday, so I am still pretty full.” you try to tranquilize him, smiling softly and rubbing his shoulder lightly. It was weekend, and you were spending the day together with your boyfriend, playing video games at your house. Since you were playing a game with a solo dynamic, you awaited patiently for your boyfriend to lose or pass the level so it could be your turn - unconsciously, though, you started to doze off.

“That does not mean it’s ok to stay all day without eating anything. You could at least snack on some fruit?” Josuke replies, worry heaving his voice tone, although he did not detach his gaze from the TV screen.

“You don’t need to care so much for me, Josuke. I promise you that I will snack on something later.” You  reassured him once more, squeezing him lightly, your words firm enough to make it clear you did not want his to insist. 

Later that night, when Josuke got home, you sighed. You weren’t going to eat anything, but since you promised, and even to someone so dear... you actually got the guts to eat a simple, single apple.

The next day, you were actually relieved that you spent all day away from Josuke’s worried eyes. Since you two attended different schools, he didn’t see you skip lunch, neither did he pressured you on eating something. Despite that, though, you two always met each other at the end of school time. So that demanded some patience from you, since Josuke always pointed out how skinny you looked like, how exhausted you always were, and how your grades were alarming low.

You didn’t care much about his words; you hated to see him worry about you, but then, starving looked like something that really payed off, since you had your own goals. You wanted to be beautiful for him. To be worthy his love and attention. You felt a bit annoyed at how your boyfriend and other friends, and even parents, told you how much you were beautiful. It wasn’t true for you yet.

Things started to get critical when you started to fall asleep way too often in class, making it difficult to keep good grades... and then you started to find it hard to keep track of everything most of the time of things other people were talking with you. Still, you kept telling everyone that you were taking proper care of yourself and did not feel anything bad until now.

In another weekend, you and Josuke decided to go out a bit, take a walk, some air. It was as wonderful as possible - whenever Josuke was near, you felt the luckiest, happiest person in the world. He made you forget about your issues, and even your self blaming and low self esteem were turned into ghosts. Josuke made sure to make you feel like a true divinity. He praised you, he kissed you all over, gave you the best hugs... and even though he was almost always low on money, he sometimes gave you some little gifts. 

The day was bland, the wind softly cold, but the rays of the sun made sure to give you come warmth. It could be colder still, you would feel it, since Josuke walked by your side with an arm wrapped on your waist, keeping you near his body. You two talked about random things all you way down the alley, until stopping by to kiss each other.

“Babe, I love you so much... you’re a real treasure to me, one I want to keep with me by... by all my life. It  would be truly a blessing to see you grow with me, sharing your love with me while we age together.” He said after parting lips, his cheeks turning light red - a trembling, silly smile forming on his lips.

Your blushing turned more intense. You took a minute to just smile at him silently, before parting lips to speak. “ Josuke, I...” You started, but did not finish. You started to feel dizzy, and even tough you tried to keep your mind and eyes focused, you couldn’t endure the dizziness for too long, fainting on your boyfriends arms.

Next thing you knew, you were at the hospital. When you finally opened your eyes, the first figure you saw was Josuke, hovering over you with an expression that seemed a mix of sadness, worry, and anger.

“Babe... you could have told me...” he simple said, before anything, before grabbing both your hands and squeezing it lightly. A bit confused, you started to move your eyes around, trying to actually get conscious about your surroundings. Seeing all the medical equipment, the serum bag over your head, your parents on the corner and the face your boyfriend was giving you... you knew you couldn’t lie anymore.

“Your parents already scheduled some hematological tests for you.” Josuke cut you off even before you could complain. “There will be no ‘buts’, no cheating, no ugly face to make us stop. Not before this.” You could swear you never saw your boyfriend so serious and so hurt your entire life.

After this accident, Josuke started to be even more attentive with you; periodically getting off of school to give you lunch, spending more time with you, talking and distracting you. He would always talk with you for as much time you needed until giving in and eating something. He helped you to identify hunger feelings and stayed by your side when you wanted to throw everything up, calming you down. When you were sleepy or just did not pay attention enough, he would rub your back so you could relax a bit, or then helping you stay awake. When he noticed you were increasing your food quantity in your dish, he would praise you, really happy to see your appetizer increasing. If you needed medications, Josuke would set up an alarm to remind him so he could remind you to take your meds.

As much worried he got to see you in such a state, he took pride on seeing you overcoming it, making sure to support you in your good, your bad, ugly moments and recovering. He was, more than never, sure that you were the love of his life, and felt the luckiest man in the world to know that such a strong, loving and kind person loved him back.

[castiel-savvy18]

So Long

Bestfriend! Ethan x Reader

Bestfriend!Grayson x Reader

Summary: Ethan and Grayson grew up being the bestest friends with Y/N. But what happens when they become too famous?

A/N: It was supposed to be such a chill romantic fic, but then I had a bad day and it kinda went downhill.

⚠️: DO NOT read if you are sensitive to suicide, cutting, or anything relating to that stuff.

Warnings: cutting, suicidal thoughts, depression, fluff, angst, suicide, major character death (you’ve been warned)

Word Count: 2.3K

“Hi! I’m Ethan!” You hear a 6-year-old boy shout behind you, who was only a year older than you.

You turn around to be faced with a pale, short boy with hazel eyes, messy, dark brown hair; ears that stick out like a monkey, and a smile so big that can change the world.

“Hi! I’m Y/N!” You say back to the older boy offering your hand, just like your father taught you.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m new here. I’m your neighbor. I saw you over here sitting on the grass alone and I thought I could join you and become friends! I have no friends, and you looked nice from afar, I hope I’m right!” Ethan rambles on and on.

“Yeah! Let’s be friends!” You shout to him, smiling widely.

You never had many friends here, you were always an outcast; you were a shy girl and mainly kept to yourself. Coloring on your own, doing work on your own, sitting alone on a bench during recess time; you even ate alone during snack and lunchtime.

Knowing someone wants to be friends with you, made you the happiest in a long time.

“I have a twin brother! His name is Grayson. That’s him over there,” Ethan says pointing back towards his yard across the street, showing a boy that looks exactly like him.

This is going to be complicated.

“That’s so exciting!!” you say, getting excited that you can all be friends.

“We can all have a play date together!” Ethan says, clapping his hands, becoming giddy.

10 years old (Ethan and Gray are 11)

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” You hear Ethan chant your name, running into your house up to your room.

“Y/N! Guess what?!”

“What?!” You say, just as excitingly.

“I. Kissed. A. GIRL!”

“What?! No way!” You say, happy for him but also feeling a little tang of jealousy.

“Yes, way! Behind a bush! Gray was there, but still, I KISSED A GIRL!”

“That’s great, Ethan!”

“I think that means we are girlfriend and boyfriend...? I think. I don’t know,” He says, a little unsure of the situation.

2 weeks later:

“She broke up with me!” Ethan finally says after sobbing into your pillows for about an hour.

“Then she’s not worth it, E. I mean, I know I’m only 10, but still. You’ll find someone,” you say, trying to show empathy for him, but really, you were a little happy.

You were sick of seeing them in the elementary hallways holding hands, sick of her taking your best friend away from you. Sick of it.

13 years old (Ethan and Gray are 14)

“You guys should just start a YouTube channel,” you say after hearing them talk about how they want to make videos for hours.

They’ve been doing Vine for quite a while now, and they are actually getting pretty popular to the point where they are hanging around famous people, more famous than them, Viners like Cameron Dallas, Logan Paul, Jake Paul, Nash Grier, and so much more.

“What’s YouTube?” They both ask at the same time.

God, they really are twins.

“Look it up. It’s too hard to explain,” you say annoyingly.

You’ve been a little irritable lately, but you think that’s due to your parents getting a divorce.

Gray and E have noticed, they just stopped asking once you flipped out on them. You felt a little bad, but what can you say, you like to handle things on your own. Especially when it comes to your mental health.

You’re not really understanding what’s happening, you don’t understand why you lay in bed at night, crying yourself to sleep. You have no idea why you’re always tired, not wanting to do anything anymore. Hell, you don’t even want to be around the Twins. You have so much anger towards them, so much jealousy. How can they be so happy, laugh all the time, have fun, when you're in bed feeling like death.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just don’t understand.

14 years old

After a full year, Gray and Ethan had finally got the nerves to create a YouTube channel. You were happy for them, you really were, but for some reason, you just couldn’t really express it.

Gray and E seem to be going on with life just fine. For them, things just kept getting better as the time went on. For you, it was just getting worse. They didn’t hang with you much anymore.

“Wanna hang?” You’d text them.

“Sorry, Y/N, can’t. Bye.” Ethan would reply.

With that, you’d lay in bed and ponder what the hell happened to your life and the twins that were once always there for you.

16 years old

At this point, E and Gray have about 3 million subscribers on YouTube. You always wished E and Gray would say thank you, you are the one who told them to do it.

You were laying in bed a year ago, crying; during that time, E and Gray had flown to L.A., for good. They left you behind, they never bothered with a simple “goodbye”, and you haven’t talked to them ever since.

It’s sad really, you were so close to them, never away from each other, but as they grew more popular and got older, you were officially an outcast. They replaced you with Jake, they were never around anymore; and now, they really are never around. They moved all the way across the country from you, and you were left alone with your depression taking over.

You tried to call, but the minute you hit the call button it went straight to voicemail.

“I’m sorry, but this phone number is no longer in use.”

You missed them so much. The fact that they never even bother to call you or visit Jersey, you’d finally come to terms that they are no longer your friends; and that hurt.

The only comfort you had nowadays was the blade sitting on your bedside table.

Your father had become a monster; he turned into an abusive alcoholic ever since your mom left.

It hurt to think that the twins don’t even know you come home from school to get beat by your once loving father and you hate to see their videos and see them looking so happy. You were once that way, but now you aren’t. You’ve stopped watching their videos; you just can’t stand their happiness anymore. It’s selfish, but then again, they left you.

They don’t know you sit in a pool of your own blood on the bathroom floor while crying, wishing, praying someone could take you far away. Every day you hold onto a pill bottle full of meds that can kill you in an hour, but you always chicken out; always think maybe the twins will come back; that’s the only thing that stops you. Someday you’ll realize they never will, and that will be the day you drift off into a deep sleep. A sleep where you’ll never have to deal with your father's beatings, where you won’t have to deal with the fact that your only friends have left you; a sleep that will make you forget everything.

17 years old

You’ve been visiting Lisa and Sean lately, they remind you so much of the Twins. They are the closest people you have.

Soon you decided to move into their place; you just couldn’t handle the beatings anymore.

Sean ended up finding out about the beatings. You had to beg him to not tell anyone. Although your father was an alcoholic bastard, you still loved him; you knew your father was still in there. Maybe one day he’ll change, he’ll be the father that once drove you out to Taco Bell at 2 am; the one who told you-you're not grounded, although your mom said you were. He was once the father that loved you more than your mom ever did.

Sean was hesitant, but he finally caved in and promised: he won’t tell a single soul.

He doesn’t know about the cutting, the suicide notes you keep rewriting, trying to make them perfect. Sean doesn’t know that you’re not in contact with the twins anymore; he doesn’t know that you’re slowly dying.

“How are Ethan and Gray? You heard from them?” Sean would ask.

“Yeah, they are doing good. Finally hit 7 million subscribers,” you’d reply back, hoping you sound believable.

The twins really did hit 7 million, they were getting more and more famous. You wished you could be there with them. You wished you could surprise them with a cake and tell them how proud you are of them, but that’s not the case anymore; you are no longer in their life.

It hurt to see that the fandom had found proof of “Ethma”. You don’t know if it’s true or not, but you’ve watched the proof videos and it really does seem like it. Ethan had found a girl, and it hurt to know that you are replaced. It really hurt. You watched proof videos all night, hoping they are all just fake, they aren’t. They aren’t photo-shopped, they aren’t played out, they are 100% real; and that hurt.

You slammed your laptop shut at 3 in the morning, slipped into your bathroom and took out your little friend, the razor blade. That night you got no sleep, you cut all night long, hoping you’d bleed out from all the cuts. By morning, you wanted to just finally take those pills, but Sean ended up calling you down when breakfast was ready, stopping you from finishing your thoughts and actions.

3 weeks later Sean found out about your nights, where you stay up and cut. He also promised to not tell anyone, as long as you get help.

You really didn’t want anyone knowing, so you made an appointment.

Today was the worst day ever, it was the day where you’ve been diagnosed with PTSD and severe depression.

They prescribed you pills and sent them to the nearest pharmacy; you didn’t bother ever picking them up.

You told Sean you were doing better, that you were taking pills every day and that they were making you better; you were getting worse though, but Sean didn’t need to know that.

Lisa ended up finding out, Sean fought with her, and Lisa flipped at you. You asked her how she knows, apparently, doctors called and said you weren’t picking up your prescribed pills and skipped appointments.

Lisa said you could either go to the appointments and take pills or go live with E and Gray, you decided to take the route of taking pills and going to the appointments.

The first appointment with the therapist went well, but then the second, third, fourth and so on just weren’t doing anything for you, so you stopped going.

2 weeks later Lisa found out you weren’t going anymore and told you to pack your bags and leave to fly down to the twins. She said they couldn’t handle you anymore, that you need a break from home; for good. Lisa gave you one night to get everything together.

That was the night you decided you were going to take your life.

You wrote suicide notes over and over again, trying to find the right words to write. Finally, you got the perfect note. It’s simple, and the 5 words say enough.

                     I’m sorry. Forgive me. Goodbye.

                                                          So Long,

                                                                 Y/N

You sat down gently on your bed; you wanted to die in a comfortable position. You dumped all the pills onto the silk sheets. They were taunting you, chanting to you to take them.

You can do this Y/N. No one wants you anymore.

You kept telling yourself that over and over again.

Finally, the words wrapped around your head and before you know it, your shoving pill after pill down your throat, chugging the whiskey you stole from Sean to push the pills smoothly down your throat.

You didn’t realize that you took the whole bottle, it just went by so fast; you wanted it to go by faster though, so you stumbled your way into the bathroom.

Fuck the comfy position.

You grabbed your trusty razor blade and made a deep vertical cut on your wrist, then the other wrist. Before you know it, your spurting out blood, blood is everywhere; you never thought a wrist could bleed this much.

Sean must’ve heard you fall to the ground because you heard someone shout your name running to your room. You pulled yourself over to the doorknob to lock it, so weak you almost couldn’t do it, but you managed.

“Dad! Where is she?!” You heard a familiar voice shout.

Ethan...

“She was in here...?” You could hear Sean’s voice muffled through the door.

“Dad... pills...” You could hear another familiar voice.

Grayson.

“Y/N!!!???” They all shout at the same time.

You were trying to call out, but your mouth was so dry and you were so weak to even make a noise.

“Bathroom!” You could hear Ethan yell to everyone.

Lisa must be gone. I don’t hear her.

You wanted to see Ethan, you really did, but you also wanted to see death.

Ethan was pounding on the door, yelling for you to open up. You’ve never heard him yell this loud before; never heard so much anxiety and concern in his voice.

His screaming and pleads started making your eyes water, and soon tears were flowing freely down your cheeks. Yet, no noise was escaping from your tightening throat.

“Y/N, honey, please. Please, I’m begging you, PLEASE open up!” You could hear Grayson choke up through the door.

“Call an ambulance, Dad.” You could hear Ethan say, trying to stay calm; you knew he was breaking inside.

Soon the yelling and pleading were becoming muffled; you were drifting off into darkness. The last thing you hear is the door hinges breaking off, then, everything is black.

[stellarbisexual]

update

having a good stretch (evenings are usually good), so i’m taking advantage of it: 

(read on for potentially triggering mental health stuff--but if you’re not triggered, please read and reply because i can use all the support i can take)

Wacky, all over the place week overall, just in terms of what my body and my brain are dishing out.  Like... ugh.  I remember the week or two after my last panic attack being bad but I’m not sure I remember it being this bad.  Then again, this one happened with me alone and in public, so more intense circumstances, for sure.  

I’ve started tracking everything: my meds (I’m on a benzo to be used “as needed” up to 2x a day), my food intake, and my feels (I literally have a column titled Feels).  I just want to get a better sense of what’s helping, when I feel the most like myself, and what I can do or not do meds-wise to help myself feel better.

When I feel potentially big anxiety coming on (I’m trying to catch panic before it starts), I’ve been taking a mini-dose of my benzo, like a quarter of a full pill, which is already a pretty low dosage. I’m super fucking sensitive to meds, anyway, so it’s all I need.  (For reference, I only needed half a pill for my full blown attack last week.)  This means, however, that my med intake hasn’t been consistent.  I’ve noticed that mornings have been consistently fucking hard, so I thought I would try taking a mini dose this morning first thing upon waking, which definitely helped--but I still had really fucking intense nausea until around 11am.  Got temporarily paranoid that it might be due to the medication, but I don’t usually experience that when I take it, so I don’t think so.  In general, I have been able to feel most myself after taking the medication, which is a sign that it’s working for me.  

I’ve gone down the not at all helpful rabbit hole of freaking myself out over forums of former benzo users warning over dependency and addiction and withdrawals and shit.  This is not fucking helpful for me and I need to stop doing it--because I really do need them this week and I can’t be second guessing that shit or feeling additionally anxious or guilty about it.  One of my best friends who has a lot of experience with the same benzo said, “Don’t question it: if you need it, take it.”  I’m still way, way under the maximum dosage for which it was prescribed to me, and I’m certainly not feeling high like some people seem to with it.  I don’t like the experience of feeling drugged, but I do like the relief it’s giving me when nothing else is. 

I’ve tried laying off of the med for smaller anxiety and doing things like my usual breathing exercises or meditation (which is surprisingly helpful), and small doses of CBD when that doesn’t help.  Ideally, I’d like to use heavier doses of CBD in place of my benzo because I know it’s milder on my system.  (But I’ve been staying at my brother’s all weekend and I’m very low on the CBD I brought with me here.)  Heading back home tomorrow.

Been cycling through mini-depressive episodes, which, for someone who doesn’t have a history of depression, is totally fucking scary.  This I remember very clearly from after my last attack, but it of course doesn’t prevent me from being paranoid that the medication is prompting it--which again, I don’t think is true based on my experience.  It’s a vicious cycle: I have panic, feel like a failure, and then get depressed, and then get anxious because I’m depressed and I don’t have a history of depression.  I've had a couple of these low episodes every day for the last three days maybe. 

One of the other scary things is that my appetite is totally fucking shot.  I have brief moments where I am suddenly actually hungry and want to eat--and I’ve been taking advantage of them, but I’ve also been forcing some food down at semi-regular meal times, even when I really don’t fucking want to.  Normally, I am someone who eats fast and a lot; I have the appetite of a much larger person, so again, this is challenging to process and deal with.  To preempt more days like this, I bought some meal replacement protein smoothies and Clif bars, just so I can get some easy fucking nutrition into my system when I really don’t feel like it.  Drinking is way, way easier than eating, so that’s the best course of action.  

I’m trying out two other new therapists - one through teletherapy who I already met with once and who specializes in trauma, anxiety, and depression, and another who is local and more hippie dippie - and I made the very sad, hard decision to stop seeing my regular therapist of many years because she’s way too expensive for me right now and I need to be talking to someone a couple of times a week right now. 

The bright side to all of this is that I had been contemplating whether or not to tell my parents about this relapse because, well, they are who they are, and I didn’t think it would be helpful for them to know because it would just freak them out and I wouldn’t reap any emotional support benefits because they’re incapable--or so I thought.  I ended up calling my dad today to tell him.  He’s in FL away from my mom right now.  And it was really fucking hard, but it ended up being a gamechanger, breakthrough conversation.  He basically offered a kind, patient ear, and said that he would do whatever I asked.  It was the kind of parental support I’ve never received--ever--and never expected to but have always wanted more than anything deep down.  He’s not without his shortcomings, but what he said meant the entire fucking world to me.  I cried a lot during and after our conversation and effectively wore myself the fuck out this afternoon.  But: really big fucking deal.  And considering what I’m going through, I’m definitely going to take him up on that.  I’m thinking of having him do stuff for me that I just find too overwhelming right now, stuff he can do from afar.  Though he did offer to come up and be with me, which was overwhelming, in a good way.  He also said that if there’s ever anything I want to share with him that I don’t want him to tell my mom, that he would honor that... which was fascinating and comforting and also a huge fucking deal.  Just... a lot to fucking process.  

Speaking of crying, I’ve been crying A SHIT TON, friends.  I actually love crying and find it super therapeutic, so this actually isn’t alarming for me the way it might be for someone else.  I’m just letting myself feel and process the sadness of this year and what’s happening and stay curious about what’s coming up for me.  For me, it’s a good sign that I’m crying.  I’d be more worried if I weren’t. 

My askbox and inbox are open for any support, words of wisdom, advice--literally anything.  Right now, I could use more tools for getting through my fucking day, especially since tomorrow is Monday and I got shit to do.  I’ve already told my one client that I’m adjusting medication and that I haven’t been feeling great, so at least she has a head’s up on that.  Running errands and being a person is going to be more challenging for a little while--but again, nothing I haven’t been through already (hello, this past winter), and now at least I have the benefit of medication to support me--and CBD if I have to avoid it.  I have experience on my side.  

This shit is brutal.  But I’m so grateful to have support and medication and to have at least felt fully like myself for solid stretches every day since the attack happened.  I cling to those moments and see them as hope that I’ll pull through soon. 

[justheretobreakthings]

Remember Me - Chapter 6

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Word Count: 3,913 (Total Word Count: 20,760) Read on AO3

Story Summary:

It was strange enough for the paladins of Voltron to have found another human this far from home, locked in a Galra prison. But it was stranger still when this human insisted that he knew them, and even that he was the former red paladin of Voltron.

That couldn’t possibly be true, could it? After all, if this Keith was actually a part of the Voltron team, then why does nobody remember him?

Chapter Preview:

“Ready when you are,” Lance said with a nod. “And hey, I know you’re still kinda convalescing right now, so I’ll go easy on you for the first couple of – ”

And before he even noticed Keith was moving, his legs were swept out from under him and he landed hard onto his back. After taking a moment to shake his head clear, he glared up at Keith, who had settled back into his beginning stance, looking perfectly innocent and for all the world like he had absolutely no idea how Lance had wound up on the ground.

“Don’t bother,” Keith said. “I think I can handle it.”

The night before a conference with a dozen planetary leaders from the coalition was a terrible night to have had difficulty sleeping. Throughout the seemingly endless meeting – the timekeeper on the wall of the room measured out three vargas, and Lance couldn’t remember how to convert that to Earth time, but he assumed it was somewhere in the ballpark of thirty years – he constantly found himself dangerously close to nodding off completely and would have to shake himself awake, barring one instance where it took Hunk kicking him in the shin under the table to get him upright again.

It wasn’t that the conferences were boring, exactly; more that they were mentally draining. Although all of the paladins had taken the time to study up on interplanetary geography and relations, they had barely made a dent in all they needed to know when it came to which planet was which, who was allied with whom, how trade systems on different galaxies worked, what embargos were in place, who had what resources, which planets had military forces, what types of governments and laws different planets had, all the important names to know…

If they didn’t have Allura on their side, Lance was certain the team would forever be hopelessly, embarrassingly lost. Sure, Shiro was always nodding along and focusing hard during these meetings, but Lance wasn’t sure if he was actually following everything, or just trying to look like he knew what he was doing. He didn’t speak up all that much when they weren’t discussing Voltron specifically, so Lance suspected it was likely the former at least as often as the latter.

In any case, his I-definitely-know-what’s-going-on face was on in full force today, and Lance tried to match it as best he could as he listened to the aliens on the different screens discussed the positioning of security personnel on trade routes that had been experiencing interception by rival forces. Allura had holographic maps up, with routes highlighted in clusters that looked to Lance like glowing bunches of yarn more than anything else, but which Allura was reading and manipulating like a piano.

Lance zoned in and out listening to the princess speak, searching out for names and places he recognized. “Our cargo line from the Griftsor system to the rebel outpost on Karimaw has been compromised, but now that we have a trade deal in place with the Yltraxians, we can reroute through their quadrant. There’s a tarriff in place on vulcanized esmerite if we cut through Theta-J-1-7’s orbit, but ultimately it would be less than the price of the fuel it would take to go around the rings of Yltrax altogether, so it’s worth the cost,” Allura would say, and Lance would understand some of those words individually.

The conference ran this dry for the majority of the meeting, until finally they reached discussion of recent activity in the battle campaigns on both their own side and the Galra’s, and Lance straightened up, back at full attention; this was the part where he could actually get use out of the information. They ran through an update on encounters since their last meeting – a handful of base raids by the Blade, transport vessels taken down by their rebel forces, the Galra attacking one of their armories and invading one of the moons of Qrandor, and the destruction of the public archives building in Olkarion’s capitol city.

Allura kept calm and composed, face neutral, during the full report, but at that last bit, her brow wrinkled a bit in worry. “They’ve been back to Olkarion? That’s… distressing. We had word a movement ago about an attack on Arus, and recently the Taujeerians reported signals of Galra activity in their vicinity.”

“There seem to be signs of planets previously liberated by Voltron being targeted through relatively contained attacks,” an Alien on one of the screens said – Lance recognized him as Puigian, but couldn’t recall his name. “It would be one thing to work to contain the coalition’s threat to their forces, but strategically it doesn’t seem to make sense for them to be focusing efforts and resources into reclaiming old planets when they could be using those resources to continue expanding outward.”

“We’ll pass along instructions to our Blade undercover operatives to look into this as soon as possible,” Shiro said. “In the meantime, Ryner, what’s the damage on Olkarion?”

“No fatal casualties,” Ryner answered. “There were eight parties injured by the incident, two of whom were considered to be in critical condition initially, but all are expected to make recoveries. It seems the contents of the public archives were being targeted more than the people maintaining and accessing them.”

“That’s a relief,” Allura sighed. “Any other significant damage worth noting?”

“Fortunately no major research operations nor particularly sensitive material was harmed, at least not beyond repair. But the public archives do have historical significance, not to mention sentimental value, so it was still quite the loss.”

“If you have the time to spare for it, I’m sure the Olkari would highly appreciate a visit from Voltron in a more ceremonial context. Never underestimate the importance of keeping up morale.”

The rest of the meeting was spent first on arranging for a visit to Olkarion within the next couple of quintants, and then on the status of and ideas for the public image campaign. Normally Lance would enjoy discussions on this topic, but the meeting had been running for so long by that point, they could have been talking about crowning him king of the universe and he still wouldn’t have wanted to sit still for another minute of it.

He let out a long sigh of relief when the screens finally shut off and they were excused to get up from the table. Immediately he made a beeline for the kitchen to grab a snack, snatching up one of Hunk’s handmade fruit bars before heading out toward one of the rec rooms in search of fun. Around one corner, he bumped into Shiro, only narrowly avoiding splattering the fruit bar all over his shirt. “Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t looking.”

“No harm done,” Shiro said. “I take it you were pretty eager to wrap up the meeting and get your free time in?”

“Was I that obvious?” Lance asked.

“You left the room at about a thousand miles an hour, so, yeah, I’d say so. You know, if you’ve got spare energy to work off, you could head over to the training deck with me. I was going to stop by the kitchen real quick, so I could meet you there right after.”

Lance smiled and nodded. “God, yes, that’d be great.”

“Excellent. I’ll be back in a moment,” Shiro said, nodding to him and continuing down the hall toward the kitchen. Lance finished his own snack there in the hall before making his own way in the direction of the training deck, passing by the open doors of a ballroom, the holodeck, the med bay –

He paused and doubled back when he passed the med bay, peering through the open doorway. Apparently, Keith had relented and taken Allura up on her suggestion of helping Coran with cleaning, since there he was, back to Lance as he scrubbed resolutely at the glass of one of the cryopods. Lance couldn’t help but pause, taking a moment to stand in the doorway and observe.

He was wearing another set of Lance’s clothes, jeans that were too long for him and one of the close copies Coran had made of the blue-and-white baseball tee that Lance favored (after seeing the garish designs Coran had come up with when he first had made the paladins new clothes to cycle through, the paladins had all decided they’d prefer it if he just use the clothes they were wearing already as a style guide with minimal alteration; the Altean had muttered something about ‘stifling his art’, but had nonetheless agreed).

Lance couldn’t help but feel just a little miffed at Keith. It seemed he had taken the fact that Lance had let him borrow his pajamas as an indicator that Keith was free to raid his wardrobe to his heart’s content. Sure, the guy needed clothes, of course, but the least he could have done was ask, even if just as a matter of social convention. Besides, blue still looked terrible on him.

As Keith moved around to the other side of the cryopod to clean, he finally spotted Lance, and jumped back an inch in surprise. “Um,” he said, “… Hey.”

“Hey,” Lance answered, and for a brief and uncomfortable moment, the two of them were silent, just warily observing each other. “So, um,” he continued, scratching uncertainly at the back of his neck. “What, uh, what are you up to?”

Keith stared at him for a moment, then he shifted his gaze first to the cryopod, then to the washrag in his hand, then the bottle of cleaner at his feet, and then finally back to Lance. “I’m auditioning for Cats on Broadway,” he said flatly.

“Okay, mister sarcastic,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes. “Just trying to make conversation is all.”

“Oh.” Another pause before he edged back to the cryopod and continued wiping down the glass. “If you’re going to just be hanging around here anyway,” Keith said after Lance spent another half a minute watching him in silence, “You could go ahead and grab another washcloth and lend a hand.”

“Oh, no, um, I’m busy.”

Keith raised a brow. “You don’t look busy.”

“Well, I will be in a moment, just meeting Shiro to, uh… to train…”

The expression on Keith’s face softened, fell, a flicker of something that Lance couldn’t identify flashing across his eyes before he simply said, “…Oh.” For a moment he stood in silence, chewing at his bottom lip, then he pointedly turned his back to Lance to resume scrubbing at the cryopod, more vigorously than what was necessary, as if he were trying to sand a hole right through it.

“Lance,” a voice came from behind him, and Lance whipped around to see Shiro approaching him from down the hallway. “You coming to train or what?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Lance said. “Just, ah, got held up.”

“By what?” Shiro asked as he reached the med bay as well and looked past Lance, seeing the answer to his question. “Ah. Hi, Keith!” he called. “Morning going all right?”

Keith leaned around the cryopod to look back at the doorway again. “Yeah,” he answered tonelessly.

“How long you been working on the cryopods?”

“I dunno.”

Shiro raised his brow and gave him a soft smile. “So, all morning?”

Keith shrugged. “I guess.”

“Don’t suppose you could use a break?”

“Nah, I’m okay,” Keith sighed, returning his attention to the cryopod. “I’m okay. Go – go ahead to your training, don’t let me keep you. I, uh, I’m okay. Go train.”

Shiro frowned as he watched Keith work. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the feeling you’d rather be training than doing this.”

Keith paused his scrubbing, and then after a few ticks, resumed, expression unchanged, as he answered, “Doesn’t matter. Can’t train, remember? Allura’s orders.”

“Actually,” Shiro said slowly, “Technically, she didn’t put a ban on training altogether. She just said you’re not allowed to use any of the training equipment.” He shrugged. “There’s training you can do without weapons and armor, you know.”

This time after his obligatory pause, he turned back toward the doorway, eyes wide. “Wait, are – are you serious?”

“Yeah. If you want to.”

Lance frowned up at Shiro. Nothing against the new guy, but he had been rather looking forward to getting to have some one-on-one training with the black paladin. He didn’t get the chance to often, especially considering that it should be a fairly common thing for leader and right-hand man, so the times he did, they were, well, nice. Now a wrench had been thrown into the works, and it was too late to double back; there was no way he could uninvite Keith without seeming like a major dick.

Keith, for his part, hesitated. “But, um, Allura said that if I question whether or not I should be going somewhere, then I – ”

“Well, I think that rule leaves a lot of wiggle room for claiming plausible deniability,” Shiro said with a shrug. “Come on, kiddo, you want to spar or not?”

Again Keith hesitated, and then, the corners of his mouth turning upward by just a hair, he slowly nodded. “Yes. I do, just, uh – just let me finish up here real quick, won’t be a minute.”

“Uh, Shiro?” Lance asked, tugging lightly at Shiro’s shirtsleeve. “Are you really sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’ll be fine,” Shiro replied. “And if Allura finds out and has a problem with it, I’ll take the heat, no big deal.”

“Well, yeah, uh, that too, but I was thinking more, um…” Lance worried at his lip as he fished for something to say, finally settling on, “He’s kind of a twig? You spar with him, you’ll probably break him in two with one hit.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Keith called from across the med bay, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Lance. “And you’re one to talk.”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe he could break me in two, too, if I wasn’t so great at defense. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” Shiro said with a wave of his hand. “I can pull my punches if I need to.” He paused, and then smirked over at Lance, raising his brow. “Unless you’re hinting that you would rather be his sparring partner instead? I suppose two twigs would be a better match.”

Lance punched Shiro in the shoulder. “I’m not a twig! You’re just a hulk. Your perception’s all warped.”

“All right, all right, I’ll take him. Seeing as you’re not up for the challenge.”

“Hey, that’s not it at all!” Lance snapped, and he turned back toward Keith. “Hey, Mullet! I’m your sparring partner now!”

“Um, okay?” Keith said.

Shiro gave Lance a nudge. “Go get changed if you’re gonna spar with him. Wouldn’t be all that fair for only one of you to be wearing armor.”

Lance nodded. “Right. Meet you at the training deck.”

He took off down the hall, reaching his room and getting changed into casual clothes in record time. It had been a while since last he had done any sort of training in day clothes; it actually felt kind of nice, looser, lighter. He stretched his arms and legs out a couple of times and then, satisfied with his range of motion, headed back out to the training deck, where the others were already at their marks, Shiro standing against one of the walls along the deck, Keith out on the floor, his arms looking thin as ever as he stretched them.

“You ready?” Shiro asked.

“Am I ever,” Lance answered, striding toward the center of the room and taking his position.

Keith met him there, situating himself across from Lance and settling into his stance. “We going for three-second pin?” he asked.

“Sure,” Lance said with a nod. He set his feet and lifted his fists into a starting stance. “Ready when you are. And hey, I know you’re still kinda convalescing right now, so I’ll go easy on you for the first couple of – ”

And before he even noticed Keith was moving, his legs were swept out from under him and he landed hard onto his back. After taking a moment to shake his head clear, he glared up at Keith, who had settled back into his beginning stance, looking perfectly innocent and for all the world like he had absolutely no idea how Lance had wound up on the ground.

“Don’t bother,” Keith said. “I think I can handle it.”

“I – I didn’t know we were already starting,” Lance grunted.

“Gotta be on your guard, Lance!” Shiro called from the sideline, and Lance scowled at him before replying, “I know, I know!” He finished straightening himself and firmly planted his feet. “We’ll count down this time, keep it fair, okay?” Keith nodded his agreement. “All right. Three – two – ”

He struck out with a fist before reaching ‘one’, but Keith ducked out of the way before it could hit. He glared at Lance – uncalled for, really, he had just been trying to even things out in regards to false starts – but he didn’t say anything, instead opting to dive right into the spar.

And, honestly, unexpectedly, he was good. He wasn’t packing much power behind the jabs or attempted holds he threw Lance’s way, but it was immediately clear that he knew his way around a fight. He was strategic and calculating even as he kept up a rapid offense, aiming for pressure points and keeping watch for openings and opportunities. His form also wasn’t perfect, as he still stumbled or overshot a couple of times, probably just still unused to fighting at his current weight, but he made up for it with speed and, especially, reaction time.

Lance grew increasingly frustrated as Keith dodged or blocked everything thrown at him, and seemed to catch every opening Lance left even if it was only for a fraction of a second. He gritted his teeth as Keith landed another tap on his left arm as he turned out of the path of the punch from his right almost before he’d even thrown it. They kept a steady distance, Keith matching Lance’s footwork perfectly without even looking down. It was like a dance in which only one partner had been taught the choreography.

In fact, that was exactly what it was like, he realized, and mentally kicked himself for having taken so long to realize it. If Keith remembered training with Lance before in his little possibly-fantasy universe, then he would already know all there was to know about Lance’s moves and fighting style, already had learned how to tell when he was feinting or where he was aiming the next hit. And the same couldn’t be said for the other way around.

There came a point when a hit to the knees and a push to the chest brought Lance to the floor again, and Keith was quick to press Lance’s shoulders down. He was panting hard, Lance noticed, a sheen of sweat coating his pale face, but he didn’t seem to notice. “One – ” Keith counted between panting breaths. “Two – ”

Lance brought his knees up and bucked hard, managing to toss Keith off of him, and the smaller boy wasted no time rolling back onto his feet, going back onto the attack with just as much intensity before, if not more, despite the fatigue starting to take a noticeable effect on him.

They lasted several minutes more, each getting one more almost-pin in that the other managed to break free of, before, finally, Keith overcorrected dodging a hooked punch from Lance, nearly losing his balance and giving the other the opening he needed to bulldoze him to the ground. “One – two – three!” Lance shouted out, and Keith stopped his attempts to throw Lance off of him, instead letting his head collapse to the ground as he closed his eyes and caught his breath.

Lance clambered off of him and to his feet, and, after Keith’s breathing started approaching its normal rate again, he did the same, standing up unsteadly and then bending down to set his hands on his knees, expression unfocused as if seasick. Shiro moved from the sidelines and joined the two of them at the center of the training deck. “You all right, Keith?” he asked, brows pinched in concern.

“Yeah,” Keith said between panting breaths, not taking his hands off his knees. “Yeah, I’m good. Just – stamina’s not what it used to be, I guess.”

“If you’re not feeling well – ”

Keith waved him away. “I’m fine, honest. Just need a moment. I, ah, I haven’t done that in a while. Must have been going harder than I realized.”

“You really didn’t have to go all-out for this, you know. Don’t need you hurting yourself.”

“I know. I just, um, I wanted to.”

Lance snorted. “Wanted to what? See how long you could go before fainting?” Keith rolled his eyes.

“Well, hey,” Shiro said. “For your first time back on the horse in a while, that was really good.” At Keith’s raised brow, he continued, “I mean it. It’s pretty obvious you know what you’re doing a fight.”

Lance frowned and glanced between the two of them. “And, uh… any feedback for me, Shiro? I’m the one who won, so, if he’s good, then…”

Shiro smirked and brought up a hand to ruffle Lance’s hair. “Sure, Lance, you’re the universe’s greatest warrior.” Lance batted his hand away, and Shiro turned to Keith. “I think we’re gonna want to get you hydrated again. Come on, Coran’s got plenty of water pouches at the ready, and it won’t hurt to grab you something from the kitchen too.”

Keith finished straightening up and nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Excellent,” said Shiro. He turned and started toward the door. “You coming too, Lance?”

“Nah, that’s, uh, that’s okay,” Lance answered. “I think I’m gonna hit the shower first.”

“All right. Come on Keith, I’ll lead the way.”

He strode toward the exit, and Keith trailed behind him, but paused before he reached the door. “Hey, uh,” he said tentatively, turning back toward Lance. “Thanks. I - I missed this.”

Lance smiled at him. “Right. No problem.”

Keith nodded a goodbye and ducked out the door. Lance watched him go, letting his smile fall. There was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth from that sparring match, one that he couldn’t quite place, and he didn’t know where it had come from. He was feeling off his game, off-kilter somehow.

Sure, by the end of their spar, Lance had gained the upper hand, but that had only been after Keith had worked himself to exhaustion. He couldn’t forget that at the beginning, he had been getting his ass handed to him. He wasn’t the best fighter in the world, sure, and he’d had his ass handed to him before… so he didn’t know why this was bothering him as much as it was. Something just felt off.

Maybe he had been going easy on him, he thought. Subconsciously, that is. Maybe he’d thought he was giving it his all, but on some level had been all too aware that he didn’t really want to beat up a guy who looked like he hadn’t gotten a minute of exercise or a crumb of food in days, and had pulled his punches accordingly. Some sort of pity thing.

That made sense. That was probably it. Pity. That was probably why Shiro was going out of his way to be chummy with Keith, too. Just being nice and cheering him up a bit since he was down. And that must have been what had left Lance feeling off, too, reading that odd vibe on a subconscious level before the rest of his mind caught up.

Satisfied with that explanation, Lance left the training deck to head back toward the living quarters, deciding he’d go for a nice bath instead of a shower, just a little reward for a fight well fought.

[donatomacchi]

Waking up to a Dream

Wednesday, March 1st (2034)

 I can feel the breeze rushing through my hair. The sand curling up in between my toes, the lighthouse to my left and the most amazing sunset I have seen in years. Its chili out, and the kids aren’t wearing their sweatshirts. I go out to the car, parked in the turnpike, grab them sweatshirts and run back before the catch a cold. As I am approaching the division between sand and concrete, I look up and see her. Look at her, she leaves me breathless every time I glance at her. They run in circles, laughing as little Mischa stumbles upon her feet, there is a certain beauty in all of this. I pause for a moment and I admire the beauty of the family I have come to build with Letitcia. 4 beautiful kids, two are twins, and a great life for each and every one of them. Since we started talking about having kids, Letitcia and I agreed on many things, but most importantly, we agreed on raising them in a home where strong values are to prevail. As I see them now, we have done quite well. Celena is loving, and very straight forward, as smart as they come, but as sensitive as her father. Vincent and Sai have so much in common, but they are so different when it comes down to personal relationships, none of them are wrong about the way they like to approach human interaction, but they just like it different, one of them being very dependent of what people feel like and the other not caring about what they may say, just like his mom. Lastly there is little Mischa, she has the greatest heart I have ever seen. She is gentle, understanding and no matter what day it is, she will always give you a hug that will run chills down your spine. They all are what I wanted since I was young, as I imagined them. But nothing or no one can compare to the one who has made this come true. Lu is the reason I am standing here, watching the sunset as my family runs around like Native Americans in a religious ceremony. Nothing could’ve been possible without her. She is so amazingly thoughtful and thankful for everything I give her, and it only makes me want to give her more. Once I thought I had too much love to give, but since I met here, it has run out, there is no quantity humanly possible that would surmount the love she deserves. And you know what is so amazing about giving my heart and my soul to her every day? She gives it right back, making the love between us too much to even understand. Do you know what else I love about her? She has this motivation to achieve everything she puts her mind to. She is just amazingly inspired by herself, it is inspiring to even look at her go! Living with her has made me so much stronger than I ever thought I could become. It’s not only what she is, but what she has made out of me, and consequently what I have made off of her. We just share something so big, so powerful, it makes me want to cry and be grateful for her. Even though I could pile up stacks of love-filled papers, explaining how amazing life has come out to be, it will never be enough. And as I walk on to them, they see me and invite me over to join the wonderful dance of joy they are performing as the sun meets the ocean. I cover the kids up, and I start to run around them, having the greatest time we will ever have together. Nothing else matters at that exact moment, my life is completely as I dreamed it would be.

Even though, for me, my family is the center part of my life, there are other things I have become, other things I have achieved. Starting off, I have become a human being to be proud of. I know some part of it I owe to Lu, because let’s face it, no one is perfect. But, I have grown up to become so amazingly smart and wise, it has given me an insight about life itself. Life has become a joyful ride, filled with amazing emotions. I have been able to express myself completely through art, literary and painted art. I never knew I had it in me until I started painting and writing. Those strong driven images splashed into the canvases and harsh, hard-hitting words sealed into the pages of my multiple books/commentaries. All of those master-pieces (in my eyes), have inspired many. Making it possible for me to achieve one of my life’s dreams: transmit my thoughts, my experiences, my wrongs, my rights and my teachings to others. As I grew up I knew I had a special understanding of life, and since I can remember I always wanted to share it with others, to inspire them to grow and understand, to make them open their eyes and see that there were bigger things in life than what they thought. Later I understood that people like me weren’t meant to be found in every street corner. We were special, and that motivated me to expand my teachings farther and farther, so that one day, the small bunch of privileged people, whom of which would come to understand what I see through my eyes, would read or see the master-pieces I developed. Now, I can say I have reached out to many of them, and poked their brains into questioning and growing without pause. I hope most of them received the inspiration they needed to aspire for greatness. I know I did, and my inspiration came from two things primarily, none of which would have I ever realized without deep thought and hard nights of brain-poking.

I set out to be a doctor early on, since I was 11 I would tell my father I would change people’s lives through medicine. I watched medicine-filled TV shows and I would awe in amazement of how amazingly perfect the human body is. As I grew up, my dream of being a doctor became more real than I thought it would be, I started attending different types of surgeries with my father’s distant cousin. Until one day, I started med school. Everything was going fine and well, but as I attended the multiple med courses, I started realizing that medicine wasn’t the end game. Medicine was just the band-wagon I jumped into to get where I really wanted to be: helping. I grew tired of medicine and I decided to drop out of med school in search of something else. Helping can be done in multiple types of ways, and I had to find a way to achieve it, but not giving my life away for it. I jumped into engineering, I chose something broad enough to give me time to realize how the hell I was going to help out and earn a living. I jumped from one job to another, going through textile factories, banks and construction developers. Until one day, life opened up a door, and when I looked inside, there was the answer. I was going to develop a health insurance company with its own health institutions. I was big, but look at me now. MDMZ has become the biggest and most accessible health insurance agency in Latin America. We gave the middle class in Mexico and option to buy for themselves private health-care. It is my life’s work. It has given me the ability to grow personally, the way I wanted since I can remember, helping people out through medicine, and making me wealthier than I had ever imagined. But, even though wealth has come my way, and it has bought my family luxuries beyond imagination, it is by far the smallest achievement I am proud of. Many of it is given away to charity, donations and help, which is another way I have found to help people out. But anyway, life has been sweet to me professionally, making it easy for me to leave something behind in this world where my name can be held up high and known to everyone for the amazing gestures I have procured. I can say, I have touched people’s lives. All of this, as I said before has given me back a sense of achievement which has made me a healthy person. I can say that my health is at its peak, psychologically and physically. I rip the benefits of being a healthy person, every day I wake up and shoot some hoops with the boys, and I thank my healthy life style since I was young. Socially, I can say that it doesn’t matter if people come and go in my life, because they do. I am reminded of my mother, she would change of cliques by the minute. But generally it doesn’t matter, because going back to what I just wrote a few minutes back, I have Letitcia in my life. If I wake up next to her every day, there is no one I need to be around. She is the captain of my boat, even if it means it is a ghost ship.  

Well, being able to write down everything I just looked back into, is a blessing to me. I am forever grateful for everything even if it is not written in this text. Not to forget my parents and my brothers, my cousins and my friends. Every single aspect of my life I am grateful for, and I express it to g-d every day I wake up. But, it doesn’t stop here, I am just turning 40! Life will go on and I will look back at this moment in 50 years and think to myself how I grew exponentially. I will look at my kids and my grandkids and again be grateful to life. Because life is a wonderful ride, if you hop on the right wagon.

 Thursday, March 20th (2017)

(Alarm beeps)

My g-d. What a dream.

Did I just… wait?

My wall holds up a sign that says “wake up, it’s here”. Is it referring to…to my dream? Is it possible? Wow, I wish it is fucking possible. I just have to grab it, just take it and believe. I saw this movie yesterday, it gave me a secret. It said to believe, visualize, and feel good. I do, don’t I? I’m kind of having a hard time doing so. Wait, Letitcia was in my dream? Really? I just started dating her. She looked beautiful though, in that beach. I could imagine getting hitched to her, but wow, kind of early. You know what, let me stop right there. Am I questioning my ability to fulfil my dreams? No way. I will not throw this away. Let me embrace it! Yes! It’s there! I mean, it’s here! Let’s take it. Feel good? I can fucking do that, there is no reason I shouldn’t. Visualize? I mean my mind is a fucking movie, I visualize all right. Believe?? Believe? I kind of have a hard time believing I suppose. But why shouldn’t I? Believing isn’t that hard, it’s just buying a ticket to the movie your mind is playing. I sure can, I absolutely can believe. Let me get one of those tickets, in fact, let me buy the whole lot.

I sit back, the theater is silent. I place the popcorn on my side (don’t forget the jalapeños), put my glasses on, and it starts. The movie of my life.

[claireelizabethwhite]

29th October 2017

DA HENNIE

Shetland. Women. Friendship. Three of my favourite things, now in one song. 

In life, when times are hard, when the chips are down, when all hope is seemingly lost, a glimmer of optimism is usually just about discernible. For at those times, there’s often one woman, and sometimes several, working their quiet magic. They’re seeing despair for what it is, recognising its impermanence, and forging a path out of blackness. Their tools are communication, understanding, empathy, comfort, kindness, courage and determination. Their work never ends and it makes the world go round. Really it does.

I’ve long wanted to write a song which celebrates the extraordinary and often unrecognised strength of women. As usual, I’d already encountered what I was looking for in Shetland. I’ve known Mam’s friend, Laureen Dalziel (pictured below), for more than twenty years and, in that time, she’s always spoken of ‘Da Hennie’ group to which she belongs. It turns out that this is a pretty special thing.

For almost sixty years, a group of Lerwick and Scalloway women have met every week in each other’s houses for supper and a news. These gatherings began in 1960 when members were in their late twenties or early thirties, and they continue to this day. Meetings take place on Thursdays from 8 to 11pm and the group currently numbers six, with some previous members having passed or moved away. Nights together involve catching up on news, enjoying supper and home bakes, and savouring a drink or two. 

Da hennie kindly allowed me to attend their Thursday 28th September meeting in the knowledge that I was keen to discover whether their story would make a song. I took my laptop, camera and phone along to capture the spirit of the event and they welcomed me just as warmly as I expected. Hennie stories were told over gin and tonic, sausage rolls and a fabulous tiramisu cheesecake made by hostess, Jean Bolt (pictured below).

With quiet pride, Jean showed me her photo albums dedicated to hennie gatherings. These women really have faced life together; births, marriages, deaths, work, education, challenges and good times. They've seen their little town and its 7500 residents weather all sorts of socio-economic change and they contextualise events with clarity and wisdom. Throughout the evening I wondered at the simple grace of their communication, their worldly sensitivity and the way in which they create space for each other. The support in the room was palpable. 

Despite fifty years of separation, their younger lives weren’t so different from those of my generation. Managing work commitments alongside marriages and childcare was a recurring theme for these women as much as it is today. Avyrill Mair (pictured below), for example, worked from home in running her taxi firm.

Our evening was pleasantly unstructured and all too soon drew to a close as the group’s recollections reached the present day. Right on cue, Thelma Malcolmson (pictured below), said something which summarised da hennie beautifully; ‘If we need, we shout.’ How true of womankind at its best.

With a month of perspective on events I wrote these lyrics last weekend and created a tune today which I’ll record with Robbie Leask on Wednesday and publish on the soundcloud site soon. It’s a departure from my usual melodic style but hopefully captures the spirit of these quietly remarkable ladies.

DA HENNIE

Thursday nights ir diamonds A jewel atae wir weeks A dram, an supper too A time ta gaff an sheeks For sixty years wir met Wis six, an idders too Eight o clock’s da keek aff O tree oors o ‘whit’s new?’

If we need, we shout If we need, we shout We pit wir heids tagedder An we work it out

Da Hennie’s foo wir kent We gadder turn aboot Birthdays an Christmas Is whan we aa geng oot In 1960 Fae bairns we took wir aese Wir makkin it cam too Fir dan wis leaner days

If we need, we shout If we need, we shout We pit wir heids tagedder An we work it out

Wir faced life tagedder Weddings, births an grief Spaekin aathing trowe bar Politics an belief Work at da phone exchange In offices forby In taxis an textiles Wis foo we med wir wye

If we need, we shout If we need, we shout We pit wir heids tagedder An we work it out

Lerwick life is altered Fae early hennie days Oil wealth brocht changes New rods, new maet, new claes Helly buses Geed fae da Market Cross But taxis shön took owre  An memories wis wir loss

If we need, we shout If we need, we shout We pit wir heids tagedder An we work it out

Sixty years o freendship Whit is dat really wirt? Yis, it’s disagreements But n’er an akwird wird An wir bairns noo Haes a hennie too Da acht o wir meetins Biggin lives anew

If we need, we shout If we need, we shout We pit wir heids tagedder An we work it out