#No I have not yet looked into going back on antidepressants that's a next year problem

[twinkuraba]

Man it's hard to find the fun in creating stuff you used to have when you simultaneously have to basically fist fight the mental illness for every scrap of motivation you can scrape from it to make fan stuff and also feel like you're just throwing stuff into an uncaring void when you do finish something.

[solarpunkpresentspodcast]

Hope for the present, not the future

Reading the previous post on this blog by Christina, I can’t help but feel… a lot of déja vu, actually. I don’t mean to be blasé at all, because everything that Christina alludes to and talks about in that article is concretely, depressingly relatable. From this side of the Atlantic, I’ve been grimly avoiding looking too deeply into what “Project 2025” entails, because honestly? If it happens, it will happen and I won’t be able to do anything even if I know every up-to-date detail about it, so why borrow the trouble? I have enough in my own life (and country’s politics) already, but being geographically situated next to America is really uncomfortable, in that their problems are almost simultaneously ours, and if they’re not, the entangled political-economic-sociocultural mess makes it that way. And yet my reaction to news of upheaval, disruption, and impending doom is to say “okay” and then go back to my little solarpunk ways of living and being. Given all of the strife that bombards my consciousness on a daily basis, why am I still writing hopelessly naïve articles about compassion and optimism et cetera on the internet? It’s a serious question, not really a rhetorical one. I wrote this article to see if I could come up with an answer; I think I recognized a few different factors, but I’m curious to know what you think after reading through the article. Let me know in the comments.

My father is quite sure that Trump is going to annex Canada,* given our reservoirs of freshwater, and the fact that history is rhyming pretty hard right now in his view as the child of immigrants who left their home after the ravages of World War 2. That one started with Germany annexing Austria, and look how that went. He’s not alone in that opinion, either. However, and perhaps this is the anti-anxiety medication and antidepressants speaking, wars have happened before, a lot, and are happening now, a lot, and people living and dying violently happens pretty much every day; it might just be our turn next. Sucks to suck, but that just seems to be the way of the world, and living on this planet means running the risk of The Bad Thing Happening. Hm, maybe it’s post-car-accident trauma or whatever, but random happenings (not even malice aforethought!) ruins peoples’ lives every day and that’s the way of the world.

Maybe I’m more positive because my family (both sides; my Oma and Opa lived through the war as well before coming to Canada) lived through an apocalypse** that was a political violent upheaval and war in Europe; they were poor farmers already, they had nothing when the politicians decided that the war had ended, and they still managed to make a pretty good life for themselves and their families in the aftermath. So I’ve seen that people can live through these things, and their lives do get better. Eventually. You have to scrimp and save and deal with racist bullshit and work menial jobs for a good long while, but I am programmed to believe that you make it there in the end, because I am living proof of it. So I might be biased, and too focused on that end result.

Or it might be because I recently spent six years studying post-apocalyptic fiction and have read through a myriad of imagined ends … as well as the imagined worlds that come after those ends. Grant you, a lot of those worlds are pretty terrible places to exist! But they do exist. And there are people (the protagonists that we follow) who are working to make it a better place. Kind of like solarpunks are now, actually. To tl;dr the takeaway of the fourth chapter of my dissertation in a very blasé way, horrible death is already a foregone conclusion in the post-disaster/-apocalypse scenarios, so the best thing to do is to make life as good as possible for the people around you for as long as you can to the best of your abilities until you expire.

Looking at the news, it’s easy to conclude that the world is full of doom and gloom and awfulness. Just following the reports coming out of Gaza and the Congo alone makes it pretty hard to imagine humanity acting worse than we already are. But it’s not actually all of humanity committing war crimes and exploiting children and adults with literal slave labour. There happens to be a lot of people who think that behaviour is abhorrent, and are organizing against the inhumane treatment of others (including earth others); there are, in fact, many communities of caring individuals who will stand up for human rights. I don’t think it’s incendiary to say “Hm, maybe you shouldn’t hurt someone else even if they’ve hurt you.” I feel like this is something we try to teach our children and bake into our narratives of who is actually heroic and who isn’t.

The people in charge might be okay with the cost of their political agenda being human suffering, but it helps to keep in mind that, in many cases, they’re a pretty small percentage of a pretty large amount of people. It’s true that in a lot of the so-called democracies we have in the Global North right now, there is a lot of support for terrible people with terrible ideas - but it is also good to keep in mind that the political systems we operate in are, each of them, abysmal. As the saying goes, “democracy is the worst political system, aside from all the other ones.” Jokes aside, reading about the stats of First Past The Post elections, voter suppression, and more can be at the same time disheartening as it is encouraging: there are good people in the world, but a lot of their votes do not count for much … if they can vote at all.

Despite that, I think it is important to participate in one’s political system, no matter where they are located. Especially at the municipal level - that is where I find that some of the most progressive, exciting work is being done. In my opinion, if you aren’t especially thrilled about government, it’s not really very smart to disengage from it, because involved or not, you’ll still fall victim to those who manipulate the political system and you will not know how to fight back. Sun-Tzu says to “know thy enemy” and I’m not suggesting you embark on an entire political science degree, but if you have the capacity for it, participating in direct democracy, attending council meetings, volunteering with a local union or political organization will give you the skills you need to understand and become familiar with the policies affecting your life … and also give you the tools with which to change things. This piece (article and full poem “To Throw a Wrench in the Blood Machine”) by Kyle Tran Myhre discusses voting as just one tool in a toolkit in more detail, in a very nuanced although US-politics centric way, and the line “But those who fight monsters have taught me: short-term and long-term thinking are not mutually exclusive” is very relatable. Solarpunk is about both-and, not either/or.

People survive dark and dangerous times by organizing, by reaching out to each other, by enacting practices of care. Maybe caring for you takes the form of making a poster for your local tenants’ union and NOT going to the rally. Maybe it’s watering the little tree next to your bus stop in a heat wave. Maybe it’s organizing a neighbourhood potluck, or just showing up to the one that someone else organized, signalling solidarity with your presence. I have found that being a body that is present is often such a boon to an organizer, regardless of whether or not your participation goes beyond that.

This essay is rather wander-y and I hope not too Pollyannaish. But I’ve had the sinking feeling that life was only ever going to get worse since I was 23; that’s over a decade that I’ve had to get used to this expectation of future ruin psychically, so perhaps that’s coming out. I don’t really expect things to get better, and I don’t know that I ever have. The only thing that really interrupted my internal narrative of cynicism and doomerism was solarpunk! And I still have to dose myself up with it, deliberately choose to reframe my mindset, whenever I start to spiral. Because I do, a lot, when I think about futures. There’s a reason I’m medicated - there’s nothing off with my brain chemistry, though; instead, everything’s off with the world. I marvel that more people are not clinically depressed or diagnosed with anxiety given the state of things.

As far as I can tell, my hope is thus a very present one: it is sparked by other humans who get together in groups to make life better for other people right now. Life can be terrible, miserable, and dark. The universe can seem vast and uncaring. But somewhere there’s a soup kitchen, and a coalition of people writing their government officials for more affordable housing supports, and they’re caring in this moment about the things that are also happening in this moment and the people who live around them now, and they are not deciding not to act because of a calculation based on a possible future outcome (although certainly that is part of their assessment of the situation, it is not the deciding factor). So I might not be part of those groups, but just knowing that they exist and are working towards justice but also being just now and kind now and acting with compassion now… maybe sometimes that’s what I need to hold on to in order to keep the dark at bay.

I want to write one more paragraph that talks about why then, for me, solarpunk is more oriented towards the now, not to the future. I think I needed to start with a solarpunk that dreamed of possible futures so that I could actually begin to see how I could work in the now, and solarpunk futurism gives me a goal. But personally, solarpunk presents is where it’s at.

—-

*I find it darkly funny that our next prime minister is almost guaranteed to be the alt-right-courting Conservative politician Pierre Poilievre, who has on many occasions criticized our current PM for weakening / destroying / doing bad things to our relationship with America (economic/political/etc). If Trump gets in, Polievre will have to deal with him first hand - and he will either welcome foreign troops with open arms (as many Canadians wish they were Americans, oddly enough) or bumble his way into being bravely run over by tanks.

**I remember interviewing my Beppe in grade three about her childhood experience of WWII and she talked about evacuating down roads where there were dead and bloated cows and human bodies (mostly soldiers) torn apart on the side of the road. Before the end of the war they were eating tulip bulbs and potato peelings in the basement of their home while Nazi troops occupied the main floor. Very apocalyptic. I figured everyone’s grandparents had stories like this, though, and by the time I was fourteen I was so sick of hearing about World War Two, because our history curriculum seemed kind of obsessed. I got it at home AND at school. Ugh, apocalypse, whatever, let me get back to reading my Animorphs plz.

[amidnightqueery]

Existential venting under the cut

CW: cancer

2 and a half years ago, I had a cancer scare (potential nodular melanoma, turned out to be a benign granuloma)

6 months ago, I had another cancer scare (sudden sharp drop in iron combined with pre-existing symptoms indicating myeloma, turned out to be a lab error)

Now, I'm almost welcoming of being told I actually have cancer. Not because I want it, of course – my grandfather passed due to lymphoma, and I saw the ghost it made of him – but because it'd give me an understanding of why I'm so tired most of the time regardless of how much I sleep, why my bones feel so heavy and creaky, why I get up after sitting and stand all hunched like an 80 year old until I am able to wrench my back straight. How lifestyle changes barely make a difference over time, that they just might prevent one bad day (which usually means it'll come on the next). Sure, it's probably fibro, but I'm coming to learn that fibro means doctors will throw their arms up in the air and say they can't help you, you just need to exercise more yet rest more, eat better but eat enough, stop stressing (how?) and see a physio and a psychologist and and and oh go on this antidepressant to help with this pain even through you have a bad history with them!!!! We don't fucking know!!!! Like I know cancer treatment is much harder to go through, but at least it's a diagnosis that might be taken more seriously. At least I won't look like I'm just lazy or emotionally weak or making excuses. I hate this state of limbo l'm in; I seem to be healthy enough for a semi-normal life, but whenever I try to engage consistently in that semi-normal life I end up on bed rest. I don't know how optimistic I should or shouldn't be about the future. I don't know if it's worthwhile to pursue the things want or if they'll just tear me apart faster. The not knowing is the worst. Am I just wasting my fucking life? Or do I have no life left to waste?

[snailfriend777]

Blogpost: Looking Back on 2024

very long and rambling post under the cut. feel free to skip, or read on at your leisure!

folks! it's december!

how did the time pass so quickly? this year has just vanished. and yet, january feels like forever ago. weird how that happens.

tbh 2024 has probably been one of the best years of my life like. in general. my winter semester of my first year, followed by my summer job at a historic site in my hometown, followed by the fall semester (which just ended) have made for three genuinely fun thirds of the year.

through the winter/spring I had some truly phenomenal classes, saw the eclipse at 99% totality, and got to see one of my favourite bands (idkhow) live in concert - from the second row!

after school ended I went back home and started my job, and also got on antidepressants (which, goddamn, make a huge difference. the first few weeks were insane, everything felt colourful and beautiful). spending four months working in tourism and learning about history was genuinely so much fun, I got to meet people from all around the world and work with some genuinely amazing human beings (and non-humans, shoutout to the barn cats) every day. I'm looking forward to going back at the end of the month and seeing everyone again!

I also had a few fun trips this summer - I went camping, and visited the states for a weekend. saw some really neat things at both locations.

this is probably one of my favourite photos I took this summer, from out the front of the canoe. we paddled like six hours that day and while the portages were buggy and awful, being on the water was gorgeous.

at the end of august I came back down south, and promptly cut and dyed my hair. I was teal again after nearly a year of it being dark! huzzah! I'd been looking forward to getting it dyed but tbh it doesn't feel as much me as it used to. I'll be dyeing it dark again soon.

my fall classes were, for the most part, superb. by far my favourite was a music and politics class taught by my favourite professor, who I'd had for two classes last year. this was the first time I'd had seminars led by him, though, and they were as great as I could've imagined. I took to following him upstairs to his office afterwards, typically along with one or two other students, where we'd chat normally for about half an hour until he had to leave. through most of the semester there was a bit of a saga ongoing - seeking, finding, replacing, and eventually discarding, a copy of Paul Simon's Graceland on vinyl. for some reason two different copies both refused to play on my record player, despite working fine on other people's. the saga ended with the second copy being given to another student in the class, and my prof instead giving me a copy of one of his favourite jazz albums, which I have listened to a number of times and absolutely adore.

I was really disappointed that he's not teaching any courses next term, but I've talked with him a bit and he's agreed to take me on as a kind of research assistant, to help me build a syllabus for this class idea I've had brewing. I'm absolutely thrilled by this, of course, and am infinitely grateful for the opportunity to continue learning from him.

my other classes were a bit more of a mixed bag. I was in a brand new class with five other students, and it was awesome, I loved the prof for that one as well. he really broke down the stuff we were discussing (heavy cultural theory) in understandable ways and was super approachable. he told us a lot of stories, gave us a lot of advice, and made what had the potential to be a super dry class, really really fun and absolutely worth taking. my friend in that class and I both got convinced by him to take advanced masters when we're in our fourth year lol, we'll see how that goes.

my other three classes were really where the semester fell flat. I wish I could've been as engaged and into them as those first two classes, but ig they can't all be winners. these ones were largely just average.

I'm also officially on testosterone! as of November 21rst! big yay. I can't wait for my voice to drop, it'll make my dysphoria lessen so so much.

now that we're into exam season and classes are over, I've really been in grind-mode, pumping out often over 1k words a day on days that I'm writing. being blessed with the ability to lock in is truly an honour.

the next week and a half is going to be rough - I've got to write around 5k words in that span of time to get all my assignments done before their deadlines, plus I've got an in-person exam (which I disagree with as a matter of principle, but that's another ramble post for another day) so I'll be pretty busy.

overall though, I'm very glad to be where I am right now. it has its ups and downs but it's a good life. unbelievable what a difference a year can make to one's mental health. despite everything going on globally rn, for the first time in my life I feel I can picture my future. I have goals and aspirations. it's incredible.

if you've made it this far,

damn! you didn't have to read all that! this is just me rambling about my year! thanks for sticking around though.

if you're interested, please feel free to leave a note for me on my Christmas tree - I'll be able to read all the notes on Christmas day. I've only got a few so far and I'd love to see my tree get covered in ornaments!

and now: this year's favs!

albums:

tracy chapman - self titled

idkhow - gloom division

paul simon - graceland

stan rogers - from fresh water

jukebox the ghost - cheers

will wood - the new normal (normal album 2024 edit)

olenka and the autumn lovers - self titled

bug hunter - the rough draft

books:

tbh I didn't read a whole lot of books this year, just stuff for classes and work! it's a short list of favs.

Many Tender Ties - Sylvia Van Kirk

Waiting for Godot - Samuel Beckett

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen (I think the only book I read entirely for pleasure this whole year lol)

podcasts:

sherlock and co

the magnus protocol

sleepy

hello from the hallowoods

stellar firma

pseudopod

malevolent

tv/film:

buffy the vampire slayer

house md

criminal minds

gentleman jack

good omens (yes, still)

jane eyre (miniseries)

pride and prejudice (1996 miniseries)

if you've got a little free time over your December and you're interested in checking any of these out, please DM me with your thoughts! I'd love to converse.

all in all it's been a pretty dope year, I think. no year is without its faults, of course, I've lost friends, injured myself just. so many times (shoutout to the historic bakery at my job, the witness to all my cuts, scrapes, burns, bashes, and splinters). and have lost a lot of sleep doing things that really could've waited until the next morning. but all in all I'm a pretty happy camper and am looking forward to what 2025 has in store!

here's to the last month of 2024, may we come out the other end as unscathed as we were going in 🥂

[petri808]

I almost feel like 2020 was some kind of screwed up magical portal I got sucked into, and that doesn’t even count the pandemic.

Venting below just ignore me

Started the year with a bang ended up in the ER on January 1st 2020 because the muscles in my neck tensed up so bad it led to the mother of all migraines. The fucked up family debacle that completely destroyed my relationship with my dad’s side (my choice) which started with my uncles cancer and ended with my grandmother’s death. Interwoven spiraling medical problems that cause pain, fatigue, and cognitive impairments that are on going and led to me applying for SSD because I can’t work. My mom dying from COVID because my idiot trumpster half siblings who didn’t believe in COVID brought it home to her which is also an ongoing problem because they won’t fucking send her ashes back home to Hawai’i despite it being her last wishes. A mental breakdown and slapped by depression enough to make me start taking antidepressants.

And that’s all just until December 2021

I even went from not needing glasses to needing glasses. Like I’m falling tf apart. It’s now 2024 and medically and mentally I’m not any better so that’s why I’ve been MIA or haven’t written anything. Seeing notifs of stories being read sparks tears so I’ve been avoiding scrolling on Tumblr.

Somehow I’ve managed to keep up on school, grad with the BA’s in 2021 and just finished the MS degree. In fact it’s what keeps me going, though thinking about the future brings on the water works. Like I tell my therapist, I don’t have thoughts of killing myself, I just don’t care if I did die. I’m just numb.

Yet people are surprised I can still laugh. Look, if I didn’t I would just give up already. Anyway, next thing to try is something they give to heroin addicts at a much lower dosage that doctor thinks will help with the pain… or make me high lol

[donnerpartyofone]

I have been trying to look up the identity of what I am led to believe is an electronic, pacemaker kinda device that was long ago implanted into an elderly cousin's brain to control her extreme suicidal depression. This is hard to google now because of the very recent emergence of similar devices that are generating lots of conversations. I wish I knew her well enough to reach out and ask probing questions about her mental health, but I don't.

It's frustrating how little I know about my family's medical history, but we are weird, and there are few of us, and fewer still are accessible. But I think about that cousin, and I think, "I have whatever she has."

My depression is way more extreme, bleak, and controlling than it was when I was young and depressed. I'm generally depressed at all times, but sometimes--like, from a few days to a few weeks--there is literally nothing I can do but lie in bed and cry and drool. Sometimes there seems to be a circumstantial trigger, but it doesn't ALWAYS result in a multi-day collapse. The collapse seems like it is going to happen when it happens, no matter what. And then it happens until it is done , whatever I do. I describe it in terms of "the juice". It's like when you've slept long enough, and your body doesn't have the juice to keep sleeping. Or you've had enough sex or jerked off enough (or you're on antidepressants), and you don't have the juice to have a fresh, satisfying orgasm. Something chemical is happening. I have the juice to feel cataclysmically bad, and then at some point I run dry, even if I still feel intellectually bad about my situation.

For a time I was afraid that my cycle, whatever it is (I haven't noticed a specific pattern yet), was related somehow to PMS. Without birth control I only have a period a couple times a year, unpredictably, and I have never been able to relate to the community women find amongst themselves related to common period issues. When I hear about PMS-related emotional problems, i.e. "I was wondering why I suddenly wanted to kms for three days and then I got my period! Awww I'M A WOMAN," I'm always offended, not comforted. It's like oh great, my feelings are not real, my most extreme experiences are purely synthetic and detached from who I am, I'm basically not even a person, cool, great. So anyway this summer has been really hard for me mentally for various more and less mysterious reasons--but I started charting depressive episodes according to my period, and I'm deeply relieved to discover that there is no apparent correlation between whatever is wrong with me and my biological sex. I should be bleeding in the next 48 hours, and yesterday I had a bad experience that often/normally sends me into a long spiral of darkness, but I came right back from it, and in the recent past plus today I have been up, ambitious, communicative, energized, and kind to others. The investigation continues.

[unwrittenwitness]

20th February 2021–20th May 2021

The Start

20th February 2021 Ok. I think I might need help.

I don’t remember writing in a diary before now, but I’ve gotta get this out of me. I felt like I was finally becoming happy in Canada. I bought a bike, COVID happened, and honestly saved me. All of 2020 was better — I went from working 3 hours per week to 10, and now I can teach online and cycle around during the day. I’m finally earning money here after 2 years of nothing, my marriage is getting better, my brain seems clearer… And then in the space of three months, there are two deaths!? My favourite grandma dies and now my friend!? What the fuck. Either these new antidepressants are weird, or I need to smoke less? Or both, but I need to write this down.

Renee died at the end of October. That was rough, but she was 96, so I guess I’ll just be feeling that for the rest of my life. But Laura, I wasn’t expecting Laura. We’ve not spoken for ages, and I barely think about her, but to be told so casually that she’s died, I feel the only people who actually liked me have both gone in the space of months.

I’m glad the doctor gave me these pills, and I really don’t know why I said I was close to killing myself, because I don’t know if I’d ever actually do that, but I felt like I’d snapped. I think those deaths hit me harder than I’d realised…

And now THIS!? I don’t even know how to write this down.

It’s 1 am. I can’t sleep, and I think my life needs to change. Like, immediately.

I’ve now been on NDRI’s for just over 3 weeks, and last night, I was standing on the balcony looking at the city. I had a joint in my hand ready to go but, this doesn’t make any sense. Before I lit it, I saw something? I felt something? I something somthing!?

I thought about Laura, and then all of the stars got REALLY bright, and the city lights turned off!? Super fast, and then back on again, and it felt like a huge rush of wind left my body at the same time and then entered just as fast as the lights, but then the concrete underneath me moved. Laurence noticed something from the kitchen and came to ask if I was ok, and I just said yes and then put down the joint.

This is weird, but, it all happened so quickly, and then I felt the depression leave my brain. Like, I could see this weird grey cloud leave my head from the right side off into the distance.

Why am I now writing this down!?

14th March 2021 These pills are definitely stirring something within me. For the past three weeks, vivid memories of Steve have been haunting my mind. Just the other night, while I was chopping vegetables, Laurence asked me a question. I can’t even recall what it was, but suddenly, an image of Steve’s testicles flashed before my eyes. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, clutching the knife, trembling uncontrollably. Laurence stood there, wide-eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

Is this what life without depression feels like?

I’m bewildered by these flashbacks, and they’re anything but enjoyable. An overwhelming urge to return home has taken hold of me, an urgency with no argument. I’ve told Laurence I need to go home for the summer, or I might end up leaving him. I don’t even understand what that means or why I said it. It feels as if my thoughts are bypassing my brain entirely, spilling out unfiltered. Back in February 2019, I went home for Ruth’s wedding and ran into Anton. He asked how I was doing, and I blurted out, “My soul is dying.” He simply replied, “Right…” and we moved on to another topic.

What on earth was I talking about? My soul!? It didn’t feel like those words came from me, yet they’ve lingered in my mind ever since. I have to go home.

20th May 2021 Laurence has generously lent me a substantial sum to make my way back home, a debt I’ll settle once my inheritance comes through. Here I am, sprawled on the sun-drenched ground at Hollies, confined to the flat for ten days, embracing my inner lizard. The weight of the world feels lifted, and my skin is kissed by the sun. Laurence plans to visit at the end of August, but the thought fills me with unease. For years, I’ve felt like two distinct personas: the married one, isolated and buried under a blanket of snow, and the vivacious one my friends adore, the life of every party. Now, it feels as though the cage has finally opened, allowing the latter to roam free. Perhaps I should have pondered more deeply before tying the knot, but surely, I’m not the only woman who’s ever felt this way.

At least I can bask in the sun at Hollies. I’ve missed this.

[butterfly-casket]

Lowkey can't believe I forgot to make this post but at the beginning of this week I walked out of my appointment 5 mins into speaking to my primary. (I had a pulse of 81 and BP of 112/70 going into it.) I left, immediately requested my entire medical history, canceled my insurance (specific to the hospital/clinic I went to), canceled my appointments and sent a message to my physical therapist that I appreciate her but will not be putting my health in the hands of *place* ever again. Then they asked me to fill out a short survey and I went OFF about the bs they've put me through for the past 3 years.

Under the cut is a description of my medical history from the past 3 years because I'm just trying to make some fucking sense of it all and how they still think fibromyalgia fits. I think they fucked up SO BAD for so long that they had no choice but to double down.

> At beginning of 2021, I get shooting pain down my leg & my hip keeps trying to give out

> gets so bad I go to the ER

> gets laughed out of the ER because I briefly mention that I've experienced chronic joint pain since age 10 (to give them the perspective that my pain scale is off)

> goes back to my pediatrician (I'm 18 at the time, haven't found a new primary)

> gets referral to rheumatology and bone & joint

> rheumatologist diagnosis me with joint hypermobility, says he can't do anything about it.

> meanwhile, my nerve pain is getting worse and worse.

> bone & joint doctor, I see him twice, repeatedly assures me that sometimes "people just have pain for no reason"

> pain gets so bad that the only thing I can do is sleep, being practically comatose, and only eating sandwich ingredients and dry cereal out of the box for 3 weeks.

> schedule an appointment with the first doctor I can see. My mom drives me, helps me shuffle into the clinic, and cries with me when the doctor walks in & asks what's wrong. We both become sobbing messes on accident bc I'm in so much pain.

> he tells me the only thing he thinks it can be is fibromyalgia. Prescribes me an antidepressant. The NEXT DAY. My pain is GONE seemingly out of nowhere

> I am unable to take the antidepressant consistently due to lack of primary doctor, doesn't seem to make a difference so I stop.

> 6 months later I am struggling to pee, 3 months after that I get my first uti and it was very bad (blood in my urine). I go to the ER but they quickly prove to be recurrent. I am treated by minute clinics around where I moved to.

> 8 months after the initial flare up, I start having mini flare ups while working an INCREDIBLY labor intensive job with long hours. I had already been working there for 3 months without issues

> have to back my car out of parking spaces VERY slowly because any time I turn my neck back that far to look, I start to black out and become unable to form thoughts. I was taught to neglect myself growing up, so I just thought it wasn't a big deal & that it would go away.

> 3 months after my mini flares up happened, I start to have a month long flare up that gets progressively worse before just disappearing one day.

> I think I'm better, get a new job, immediately have to take a month off of work due to extreme joint pain, muscle pain, and constant uti symptoms. (12 months later we find out I was suffering from thyroiditis.) Try to fix my sleep schedule, diet, exercise habits, and finally start to feel a little better. Go back to work but it's part-time.

> work there for 4 months in extreme pain every day, eventually have to leave because I can't take it anymore.

> apply for disability, get new insurance, & get taken care of by my partner. Also move in w roommates who I didn't realize were incredibly unsanitary. I try my best to clean up after them for 5 months before ultimately I give myself a stress fracture on both my L5 pars and send my body into yet another full body flare up that sends me to the ER. Am still experiencing hyperthyroidism without knowing it.

> ER prescribes me gabapentin and send me back to rheumatology.

> finally get a new primary who seems to really care.

> Rheumatology gives me a 9 beighton score & sends me to physical therapy which helps my joint pain a ton until I have another extreme nerve flare up 3 months later while doing my PT. Literally the worst pain I had ever experienced, could barely move. Primary ups my dose 6x and it helps at the very first but ultimately still doesn't keep up with the pain (like, at all. 1800mg a day.)

> sees a urologist who diagnoses me with Pelvic Floor Dysfunction and almost doesn't test my urine which showed crystals & a lot of bacteria (he acted like I was crazy for feeling something solid through my urethra.) He went ahead and did a CT to check for kidney stones and found an 8cm ovarian cyst (that they found 2 yrs prior & didnt tell me or my mother about even tho it 6.7cm at the time) and an L5 pars defect.

> gets reoccurring chest pain & palpations for months, one day it gets really bad and a nurse line tells me to go to the ER. ER diagnoses me with Anxiety.

> finally sees a spine doctor who diagnosis me with bilateral sciatica, spondylosis of my L5, and says there's a good chance my spine is popping in & out of alignment. Sends me to pain management.

> pain management switches me to pregabalin. It helps a little bit for a little bit. Eventually have to stop taking it due to extreme mental fog & personality changes.

> try dry needling therapy for 3 months for my lumbar back. It always relieves me for a short period but ultimately was making matters worse in the long run.

> having tons of flares ups all the time up until we had to move & 30 minutes into moving small boxes my back pops out of alignment, my legs give out and I'm in, once again, the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life for the rest of the day until the next morning I take an Epsom salt bath, feel a pop, and finally have some relief. I was sore from that flare up for a week after.

> find a new primary after moving, ask about possibly having hEDS and he sends me back to rheumatology (who found nothing) saying they have to rule out everything else first.

> go back to pain management, try a couple different things that either made matters worse or did nothing at all and decided to take a break from the disappointment.

> everyone keeps telling me I have fibromyalgia & anxiety despite the fact that it doesn't actually make sense with the pattern of my pain, doesn't match up with my symptoms &doesnt explain half my symptoms.

> symptom page is now 3 google docs pages long & after receiving my medical records I find a million inconsistencies, claims of me agreeing to things that were never discussed with me, and half of my reported symptoms are not even mentioned.

> have a dozen more symptoms that I'm scared to mention out of fear that I am going to continue to be dismissed, ignored— or worse, give them reason to think I'm seeking attention.

> completely lose hope for receiving the help I need.

> start having blurred vision and dysphagia, looks them up, reads about MS and realizes it fits nearly all of my symptoms. Make an appointment with my primary.

> goes to my primary, immediately is talked down to for "coming in the Friday before Christmas break" and "the only reason you got this appointment is because I had a cancelation."

> I burst into sobs and whip out my symptoms list just fucking begging for help, telling him I've been dismissed by almost every medical professional I've been to, most of my symptoms haven't even been recorded, & that I'm desperate. He agrees to finally help me, refers me to neurology (first time since this all started) and orders MRIs to check for MS.

> by this time I have had thyroiditis, a ton of infections, have horrible balance, tons of tingling and numbness in all my limbs, use a cane, been unable to work for a year and a half, worked with tons of physical therapists who don't know how to help my nerve pain, & have another ovarian cyst despite receiving treatment for PCOS.

> goes to the ER with my heart racing, vomiting, extreme fatigue and weakness. The doctor tries to gaslight me as they continuously tell me "You are a young healthy person. This is very psychological, you need a psychiatrist and psychologist." Until I am in literal tears because that treatment felt very uncalled for, especially because my labs hadn't even come back yet. I finally agree to see a therapist bc I recognize I am going through a very difficult thing in life and could use the extra support. I also felt very much like they were going to put me in a psych ward if I didn't agree. My lab tests come back showing I have low potassium & CO2. They treat me then send me home with 2 diagnoses: nausea WITHOUT vomiting, depression.

> neurology asks me a ton of medically irrelevant questions about school life, home life, relationship with my parents and then diagnoses me with anxiety without performing any tests.

> gets my second EMG that comes back clear

> finally gets my MRIs that shows cervical bone spurs on 3 different vertebrae.

> think I have FINALLY found the answer to almost all of my symptoms.

> goes back to my primary who says it's "just a little arthritis. Most people who have what you have don't have symptoms." & won't listen to me when I point out that I have every symptom indicative of complications with bone spurs in the neck (& I'm hypermobile)

> refuses to discuss why I have the bone spurs at age 22

> refuses to discuss the possibility of hEDS

> gets mad at me for not being treated for my fibromyalgia (even tho nothing works.) Keeps interrupting me to say it's just fibromyalgia.

> I say, "ok, we're done here" & get up to leave

> "you're leaving?!"

> "you just said nothing is wrong with me, I have the same thing everyone has been saying I've had for years, that I have the same thing I've been trying countless useless treatments for, what else can you even do for me?"

> "but I could get you a referral to a spine specialist!!"

> "you just said nothing is wrong with my neck. And I've already been to a spine specialist."

> "they could give you injections!"

> "I've already tried injections and they. Didn't. Work."

> "you don't even want a follow up appointment???!"

> "???? NO!!!"

[loversandantiheroes]

So I'm overdue to finally give a little life/health update since I went on my writing hiatus. I had hoped to be able to put off any sort of updates until I was finally able to get my ass back in the saddle and writing again, but that's not really on the table just yet.

I'll spare everybody the long and boring details, but I've finally been able to start seeing a doctor again and get the ball rolling, albeit clunkily, on my mental health. I've been back on antidepressants for a few months now, and last month I finally got an ADHD diagnosis and started meds for that. Unfortunately the ADHD meds have been a lot harder to adjust to, and combined with the lingering fatigue from my depression I'm kind of back into lump mode lately.

In addition to all that fun stuff I got unexpectedly sick back in June for a few days, which turned out to be Baby's First Gallstone. Had a bunch of imaging done since August, and I'm currently scheduled to go in to get my gall bladder removed on the 28th of this month. This'll be my first surgery since I was five, so suffice it to say a ho is Nervous. They also want to keep me in overnight for observation since dad doesn't qualify as someone who can reliably look after me, so I'm going to be missing out on a couple days of work at least. I'll be spending the next week in panic-cleaning mode in preparation for the physical recovery, but on the monetary end of it the chances of me having to ask for help buying groceries in December are definitely higher than zero. Cross that bridge when we come to it.

With all this bundled up together its kind of looking like this winter is gonna be a hibernation season for me. But honestly I think I need it. My body needs some rest while my brain goes through a backlog of critical updates.

So yeah. Still here, but still not quite back up to snuff. Here's hoping for next year. 🤞

[diamonddoll]

Your last post about never drinking anything men give you reminds me of that time, it was New Year’s Eve and me and a friend wanted to go to this underground party (it was well known in our city and it was predominantly gay/bi people going there) and another friend of mine was going to meet us there. Fkg hell, she meets up with us and she’s completely hammered already, the night didn’t even start yet and she can’t really stand on her own I’m like ?? Okay… but that’s not what pissed me off tho, it was the fact that HER friends (which I barely knew, I only ever seen them on social media) literally just left her to be all alone mind you she came to the party with those girls and while we were waiting to get into the club, my friend just basically blacked out/passes out on the snow and her friends just went inside and left her?? If me and my other friend wouldn’t have been there she would have stayed there laying in the snow outside that club, how can anyone do that? And when we tried to get her friends they were like “she needs to go home” girl how??! She couldn’t even tell us her address. Just how can you just leave someone like that and still find it in you to go and have fun, literally no concern for this girl. Me and my friend had to take her back to her place and we did, we made sure to get her home safe and she didn’t even remember how she got home when she woke up the next day, me and my friend never even got into the party since we went home after all that (we woke up at least 2 people trying to find her apartment since we finally got her adress but not the apt number, it was such a mess, we had to carry her up two floors too 😂 thinking back it was kinda funny but the whole just leaving an incapacitated girl alone still makes me go wtf?) this is kind of a random story but I will never understand women who do shit like that and I will never fuck with women like that, even if I don’t know her I wouldn’t just leave a girl like that truly despicable behaviour. My friend felt really bad but I was more glad that she ended up in MY hands rather than some random, god knows what could have happened.

You and your friend are good people.

Idk if you’re a new follower, but I was in a similar situation this past august and was sexually assaulted. I went out with a group of “friends” to a club. I end up getting blackout drunk (or was possibly drugged, i’m not sure. I take antidepressants though so its very easy for me to blackout from only a few drinks) I ended up being assaulted by a man in the bathroom and then later a different man took me to his apartment and assaulted me there. I don’t remember much of it. The next morning when I stumbled home the first thing my roommate said to me was “You’re not allowed to hang out with us anymore. You drink too much and no one wants to babysit you” he never asked where I went or what happened to me. We had been friends for 6 years. He still doesn’t know. I don’t live with him anymore and haven’t talked to that friend group since. Sometimes I really want to call them up and tell them what really happened so they can live with the guilt…

Moral of the story: PLEASE look out for your friends and other women in general when going out because this shit happens all the time and you never think it could happen to you.

[hoe4almondmilk]

Safety Net: Chapter 3

Present! Carol Denning/Reader

Trigger Warning: There is mentions of Attempted sexual assault, nothing in detail though. 

“Oh, don’t be like that! Just give me a piece and I won’t make an arrest for reckless driving and possession.” The cop chuckled as he attempted to grab your shoulder.

“I said get the fuck away from me!” you yelled. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face approached yours. 

He grabbed you by the shoulders, everything was happening so fast and yet it felt like it was all in slow motion. That's when you grabbed his gun from his waist and shot him.

You gasped, sitting up quickly. Your heart was pounding and your skin was slick with sweat from the nightmare. It took a few moments to finally catch your breath.

“Oh my god.” You groaned quietly, as you rubbed your eyes from exhaustion.

This was your first nightmare in a very long time. The last time you had a nightmare was back when you first arrived at camp but that was years ago and you were on antidepressants. You had almost forgotten how real they felt. How they brought you back to that horrific moment. The moment your life was turned upside down and changed for the worst. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Carol groaned in a grumpy tone from underneath her bunk in a groggy voice interrupting your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just a nightmare.” You replied blankly as you laid back down.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Carol ask “You okay, kid?” Maybe you were delusional from being tired but you could’ve sworn you heard the slightest bit of concern in Carol’s voice.

“Not even a little bit.” You whispered as you attempted to hold back the tears.

It felt almost like hours before you could fall back asleep, scared your nightmare would continue if you closed your eyes.

“Wake the fuck up, Inmate.” C.O. Hellman yelled as he smacked the door of your cell, making a large clap noise that made you jump up from your sleep.

“Okay, I’m awake.” You groaned, as you rubbed your eyes and slid down from your bunk. You must’ve slept in pretty late, considering Carol was absent from her bunk. 

After getting changed into your navy scrubs and brushing your teeth, you made your way out of your cell into the common area. 

You scanned the room to see Carol at her usual spot playing bridge with the other women. 

You and Carol were on good terms now after your agreement the other night. An hour before lights out she’d even spend some time with you, giving you a bridge lesson. Still you still really weren’t sure if you were on that level of familiarity with her yet to just go sit at her table. You looked over to see your two favorite people Piper and Alex and made your way towards them.

“Well, someone slept in pretty late.” Alex said as she looked up from her book.

“Yeah, I had some trouble sleeping last night and I guess my body made up for it.” You groaned and you got comfortable in your seat.

“(L/N), what happened to you the other night? I can still see the bruises on your neck.” Piper inquired.

“Oh, shit.” Alex hissed as she leaned in to take a closer look at the now yellow bruising on your neck.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Your hand rubbed your neck as a pathetic attempt to shield the bruises. 

“Was it Badison?” Piper’s eyes widened. “You see Alex, I told you Badison is fucking crazy.” 

“Chapman, shush!” You hushed Piper. “Seriously, watch what you say around here.” 

“So it was Badison?” Piper whispered.

“Jesus, yes, Chapman. Listen, I have it taken care of, okay?.” You groaned, you did not want what happened to you the other night in the showers happening to her.

“If you say so.” Piper sighed as she looked over to Alex in hopes for a response. Alex just shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, speak of the devil.” Alex warned as Badison made her way over to your table.”

“Hey lezzies, sorry to interrupt but Carol wants to see Mouse.” Badison chuckled. “Now.” She demanded.

“Well, off I go.” You sighed as you got up from your spot following the rambunctious blonde.

It’s safe to say you probably should’ve sat with Carol when you entered the common room. Hopefully, she’s not too upset. How could you have known? You gulped out of nervousness. What if you did piss her off? If Badison could get two girls to jump you in the shower imagine the damage Carol could do if she really wanted to. 

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts when you made it over to Carol’s table. Akers, Creech, Teng, Brock, Chambal and of course Carol were all sitting at the table. Badison sat down in front of Carol. You could feel not only her eyes on you but the eyes of the other women who sat around Carol. 

“Brock, move.” Carol said not looking up from her cards.

Brock rolled her eyes as she got up and away from her spot next Carol.

Carol looked up from her the cards in her hands and met your eyes with hers. “Sit.” 

You nodded and sat next to her, filling in Brock’s spot.

“It’s your turn to switch in.” Carol slid the deck of cards to you.

“What is she doing here?” Teng grunted obviously annoyed by your presence at the table. 

You couldn’t really blame her, Badison did order her to go jump you and made you out to be an enemy, yet here you were sitting next to Carol playing bridge.

Carol looked up from her cards and glared at Teng. “She works with us now.”

“So, Mouse. What the fuck are you in here for?” Badison smirked. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the table on you, except Carol who was too focused on the cards in her hands. 

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” You replied as you drew a couple of cards trying to focus on the game. 

You actually hadn’t told really anyone about why you were in prison in the first place but camp was small so word got around and so did rumors about what you had done, most of which weren’t true. You didn’t care, let them think what they want. You wanted to do your time and leave this place behind. But of course, your luck, the riot happened as you only had three years left of your seven year sentence. 

You were at maximum now, things were different here. You were surrounded by some of the most violent types of offenders. Maybe you should’ve been here in the first place. No, you shouldn’t. You did what you had to do.

 “Probably something petty, you did come here from minimum.” She chuckled. “Ain’t nothin tough about you.” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at her. 

“Madison.” Carol cautioned with a glare. After a few moments of silence, Carol asked “Are you gonna tell us?”, as she glanced over at you waiting for an answer.

Should you lie? No, no definitely not. Carol was the boss, she could probably have a CO find out for her if she really wanted to and she'd have your head if she found out you lied to her.

 “I shot a cop.” You muttered as you pulled another card from the deck. You looked up when you noticed the wave of silence that washed over the entire table. Everyone was shocked to say the least. Even Carol whose face normally wore a blank expression looked slightly surprised with one of her eyebrows raised. 

“Damn, Mouse is a cop killer!” Creech laughed. 

“Yo, that’s badass!” Akers joined in with Creech. Both women were laughing in unison.

“Bullshit.” Badison laughed. “You just want to look tough.”

“It’s true.” You replied, as you sank further into your seat. Just wanting the attention to shift away from you. 

And unfortunately you were telling the truth but you couldn’t blame her for not believing you or anyone for that matter. You hated people finding out what you did. You didn’t necessarily regret what happened but you hated the way people saw you after you told them. Especially in prison, it gave a false image of you. You weren’t a violent person nor did you ever try to appear as one.

“Then why were you in minimum “cop killer”?'' Badison leaned forward, asking almost as if she was challenging you. Everything was a competition to her. 

You slammed the cards down on the table. “Not that it’s any of your business, Badison, but I didn’t kill him and it was self defense.” 

“I’m not buying it.” Badison continued.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Badison.” You scoffed, as you once again tried to center your focus back to the game. 

“Well that’s a shame cause you really sho-“

“Madison.” Carol interrupted her mid sentence “Stop.” Her eyes burning onto the loud blonde, obviously having enough of Badison starting petty pointless fights. 

You tried your best to stop the corners of your mouth from curving into a small smile. It was nice knowing Carol was keeping her end of the deal. 

Badison gulped and did as Carol said. 

“You know what,” Carol put her deck of cards down. “Madison, Scat.”

“What?” Badison asked almost dumbfounded.

“Unless you can play bridge well, all of a sudden, go. You’re annoying me.” Carol continued her glare at Badison.

“Fine.” Badison stood up from her spot and slowly trudged off, anger obvious in every step. 

Normally you would’ve been scared but you weren’t. Badison knew she was already crossing the line with Carol’s patience. She knew not to fuck with you like she did last time. 

“Let’s start over.” Carol sighed as she began to reshuffle the thick deck of playing cards.

After an hour of non stop rounds of bridge, Carol decided to take a break. She needed to talk to Badison about their new haul of pills. You weren’t complaining, your ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the hard plastic seat for so long. You headed up the stairs to your cell to lay down for a bit. You let out a quiet groan, as you rubbed your lower back. Your lower back definitely needed a break too.

“Psst.” You heard a voice whisper to you right before you walked into your cell, stopping you in your tracks. God it better not be fuckin Badison. You looked over and almost screamed. It was Nicky. 

“Long time no see, Doll.” Nicky chuckled as she leaned against the custodial cart.

“Nicky,” It took everything in you not to run into her arms and hug the absolute shit out of her. “I- How-... What are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t believe your eyes, you hadn’t seen Nicky since you guys were in Ad Seg but you two couldn’t really even have a real conversation because of the asshole guards. 

Nicky was one of the few real friends you had at camp. You remember the day she first arrived to camp. You two had been inseparable since and not that you would ever admit it but at one point you had a slight crush on her. You never mentioned it nor would you ever mention it to her because you value your friendship with Nicky more.

“What, not happy to see me?” She chuckled as she faked a pout.

You looked around to make sure no one was looking, seriously not needing another jumping. You smiled looking back at her, “I’m so happy, if I could hug you and not get jumped I would.” 

Nicky’s smile quickly faded when her eyes landed on your neck, “A second time? What the fuck happened?” 

You groaned, damn how long were these bruises gonna stay. “I don’t want to talk about it, it won’t happen again.”

 Nicky rolled her eyes and she gripped the mop in her hands tighter, her anger was obvious.“Who did that to you? I swear I’ll-“

“You’ll what? You’ll get jumped too, Nicky. It’s not like camp. Red can’t protect us here. Where is she anyway? Is she in D-Block with you?” The last time you saw Red was in Ad Seg.

“No, She must still be in Ad Seg.” Nicky looked hurt answering that. You wanted to hug her. It was painful knowing you couldn’t. 

“How are you, Nicky? Seriously, I fuckin miss you.” You could feel your eyes watering up. 

Nicky sniffled, “I miss you too,” She wiped her eyes, “You know, I’ve been better, Lorna and her bunkie adopted a pack of rats so I’ve had to hear about that for the past four days.” Nicky chuckled.

“Ew, that’s gross.” You chuckled softly.

“Nichols!” CO Blake yelled. “There’s a spill down here!” 

“Heigh-ho, off to work I go.” Nicky groaned, as she started to wheel her cart away, She turned around to say “I miss you, kid.” sadly.

“I miss you too, Nicky. More than you could know.” You replied, you slowly turned around trying to soak up as much of her image as you could before you made your way back into your cell. 

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes before anyone saw. You hated it here. None of you deserved to be in here. You wanted your prison family back even if it was a dysfunctional mess.

You crawled up your bunk and into your bed, plopping face down into your very thin pillow. Praying that you’d just wake up from all of this and be back home with your family before all of this mess happened. Prison was a tortuous hell. 

Snapping you out of the hypnotizing darkness that was your pillow, you heard, “It’s barely noon and you’re asleep again?”

You lifted your head up to see Carol leaning against the entrance of the cell.

You let out a groan as you flipped onto your back, as you faced the ceiling. “I wasn’t sleeping.” 

“That’s surprising.” Carol chuckled as she strolled into the cell and sat herself down on her bed. “You’re so young, what do you have to be tired about?” 

You rolled your eyes, you absolutely hated it when people told you that, it was so annoying. “You know, that’s really invalidating.” You sat up on your bed, leaning your body towards the edge of the bed so you could look at her.

Carol was hardly listening, too focused on her magazine and lollipop. “Invalidating, how so?” She gave you a glance, taking a minuscule break from her scantily clad men.

“You’re just assuming, I have nothing to worry about solely because of the fact that I'm young. I don’t even feel young because of the place. Prison has robbed me of my youth. I should be in college.” You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I should be anywhere but here.” 

Carol was silent for a moment, looking at you. “How long have you been in here?”

“I was eighteen, when it happened. I just graduated high school.” 

“Eighteen.” Carol repeated, She chuckled. “You were about my age when I first got here.” 

“You’ve been in here since you were eighteen?” You asked, you were shocked. Carol’s spent her whole life in this place and by the looks of how she runs things here, she wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon. 

“Crazy, isn’t it? It’s gone by so excruciatingly slow yet time flew by so fast.” She sighed as she removed her glasses from her face to rub her eyes. There was a hint of sadness and yet some passive aggressiveness in her voice. “It was originally just twenty-five years but I was betrayed by someone I cared about and so I got an extra thirty stacked on top.” She leaned her head against the wall of her bunk.

An “I’m sorry, Carol.” was all you could say, was there anything else you could say? This woman has spent her whole life in this place and was most likely going to die here, yet for some reason you thought you had the right to complain about a measly seven years.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m different now. I’ve learned not to trust anyone here so easily.” She put her glasses back on her face. There was a moment of silence. “So, exactly why did you shoot that cop, tough girl?” 

“It’s hard to talk about.” You muttered. “I have so many mixed feelings about what happened.”

“Sit down here with me.” Carol invited, scooting over to where her pillow laid.

You nodded as you climbed down from your bed to hers, not wasting this act of kindness from Carol. You knew she was cold blooded and was rarely kind to anyone. So far though, she made an exception for you. You just took it as her being nice because you were new and could offer something for her business.

You sat down on her bed, pulling your knees to your chest. “I didn’t intend to shoot him. That was the last thing I wanted to do but I didn’t have any other choice.” Your voice became hoarse as you tried to hold back the tears. 

Carol watched and listened to you in silence. 

“I had to, I wasn’t going to let him rape me. That’s what he wanted. I saw how he looked at me and how he grabbed me. I can still feel his grasp on my arms.” Tears fell from your eyes. Three years later and it was still so hard to talk about. You should be getting proper counseling, not the bullshit you were getting from Healy back at camp.

“Is that why you woke up last night?” Carol asked. You looked over at her and her expression was soft. Before it was a word that couldn’t be put with Carol. She was hard, tough and cold. Yet somehow she was showing you sympathy.

You nodded. “This was my first nightmare in years. My last one was when I first arrived at camp.” You wiped your tears away and chuckled. “What’s so fucked up is I’m the victim and yet I'm the one in prison. They decided his gunshot wound was his punishment.” 

You flinched when you felt Carol’s hand touch your back. Your muscles slowly relaxed when she began to rub your back. She didn’t say anything for a moment there. She didn’t need to. Her hand on your back was all she needed to say. This was the first time in a while you had felt someone show you slightest bit of affection. It was nice. You were touch starved.

“Thank you.” You gave Carol a small smile.

And she smiled back at you.

[pinof]

Under the cut is the full transcript for The British Get Talking Podcast episode on October 8, 2020 with Dan!

[Interviewer:] Hello everyone! I'm Kylie Pentelow and here we are again. This is the second series of the "Britain Get Talking" podcast from ITV where I talk to some amazing people who open up about the mental well being. Today, Dan Howell is a YouTube star. He rose to fame through his comedy videos that have had more than a billion views. More recently, he's opened up on his YouTube channel about depression and his video "Basically I'm Gay" has had eleven million views. Dan is now writing a book about mental health and is an ambassador for YoungMinds. Dan is obviously funny, but he's also clever and sensitive. To me, it seems he's using his huge profile among young people to really make a difference. I loved talking to Dan and I hope you like listening to this podcast too. Dan, thanks so much for speaking to me today! How are you?

[Dan:] I am a big fan of saying "I'm fine." And that is the absolute worst, most British answer to that question that anyone can give. And it's what people say all the time. And, you know, for me, it's definitely- It's something that instantly says way too much. *laughs* Doesn't it? I mean, you can write a whole essay about "I'm fine" as an answer. "Oh, I don't want to inconvenience you. Oh, I don't want to bore you by talking about whatever I'm going through." And that's very me. I accept that one of my flaws is I don't want to put something on the other person. I don't want to start a whole thing that might bore them. I don't want to sound like I'm moaning, so I'll just go, "I'm fine!" And usually the tone in which I say "I'm fine" immediately betrays the fact that I'm- You know, might be clearly very stressed about something. *laughs*

[Interviewer:] Do you think your kind of friends would pick up or people you know would say, "Oh wait, you sure?" or would they delve deeper?

[Dan:] Everybody I know! They just look at me like, "Okay, Dan." *laughs* Cool, okay. So in ten minutes, we'll be talking about how you actually feel. We just need to get through the kind of ice breaking- Cause, you know, I'm that introvert and I'm quite socially awkward so it takes a while to melt the ice to get through to whatever's there.

[Interviewer:] You're hugely successful! You rose to fame with your YouTube videos. They are very funny!

[Dan:] Mhm. *laughs* Thank you!

[Interviewer:] But you have a few small serious ones in there recently. And you've spoken very openly about your depression. What prompted you to do it in the first place?

[Dan:] Yeah, so that was quite a journey. In case anyone doesn't know- Uh, hi, my name is Daniel Howell. *laughs* And as you say, I was mainly known for being somebody who uploaded comedy videos to YouTube. Which I think, Kylie, is something you and I have in common! I'm aware that you have some toes in the YouTube space.

[Interviewer:] Yeah! Oh my goodness. Back in the day, yeah.

[Dan:] Look at us! We got one toe in traditional media and the other in the Internet.

[Interviewer:] I love this. *laughs*

[Dan:] So yeah, these videos- They were something that I started when I was a teenager and they were just kind of comedy videos about everyday things. So I had like rants about how annoying people are at the airport or what it's like going on public transport. And then I'd, you know, move onto talking about things that people were arguing about in TV shows. It was all very funny. It was all very relatable. And as time went on, I started to be a bit more personal with the stories I was telling. I was saying, "You know what? I'm actually going to tell you today about the time I got fired." It was an awful time in my life but usually the things that are really awful are very funny to laugh at. And people liked that because I was sharing something personal. It was intimate. It made it even funnier because it was real and it was awful. You know, comedy is just tragedy and someone saying you're allowed to laugh at it. And it was in 2017- I'd gone through a few years where I really started to think about my own mental health seriously for the first time. Because I had quite an upsetting childhood, as someone who grew up gay. And I had a lot of issues with depression and various things and really had just never thought about it in my life until any point. And it was only when I was in my mid-twenties that for the very first time, I stepped back and I was like, "You know what? I'm feeling like this and this is something. It's not right and I should do something about it. I came to terms with the fact that I really had been struggling with depression for a very long time. And this is something that's obviously- It's quite hard to firstly accept on a personal level and then to tell anyone about: your friends and family. And for me, I was in this strange place because I had this career as this comedian who was known for sharing these things from my life and being very open and having this great relationship with my audience. And yet, it felt like there was this huge, kind of big secret dark cloud in my life that people didn't know about. And it was especially strange for someone who performs on stage and you know, who did jobs like the one I did on Radio One. And it felt like all the time, I was acting very funny. I was acting very happy and really there was this whole other side to me. And I just decided that for several reasons really, I had to get it out there just so people would know this fundamental thing about me so they'd understand a bit more about my story. But also that I felt, even in 2017, there was so much misconception around discussing mental health and what depression is. And so many people out there that felt like they needed to have this conversation held in a public place. So it was absolutely terrifying for me. But I decided to make one of my typical, you know, comedy videos where I tell stories and I talk about my opinions. Except I opened up about my depression and it was an absolutely huge moment in my life. And I remember being terrified when I hit that upload button. And the response I got was just so much more positive and powerful than I could've ever imagined. Not only because people were saying, "This is so much more compelling because it's real and you're being honest. But so many people had never really had depression explained to them? They were like, "I have loved ones that go through this. I have friends and I've seen it and now I understand it more." And so many other people said, "This is me. I was sat watching this." So people were saying, "I've been struggling with this for years and I didn't know how to talk about it to my family." Other people were saying, "I didn't even know this was me. Now I'm seeing it for the first time." And that really- You know, it was a moment that changed my life in my career for sure.

[Interviewer:] The thing I think you do really well in it is explain the difference between feeling sad and feeling depressed. Can you just explain that?

[Dan:] Well, we all feel sad many times. You know, we can watch a Disney movie and feel sad. *laughs* If something sad happens. But depression is when you notice for a long time that things aren't right. If you're not enjoying the things you should be enjoying. If you're having a real struggle just maintaining the basic things you should be doing: getting out of bed, feeding yourself, opening the curtains. If you feel like you've sunken into a hole. If you're not enjoying the things that you're doing. If you just don't have the energy- You don't want to socialize anymore. Then it's not just that you're feeling sad because an event. It may be that you are depressed and this isn't something that may just blow over. It's something that you need to really acknowledge and then do something to fix.

[Interviewer:] You also talk about how it affects things like your diet as well. Like that was quite a surprise to me. Sometimes you might feel like you might not want to eat at all. Sometimes you eat to try to make yourself feel better.

[Dan:] Absolutely. Yeah, some people when they feel depressed, they just can't eat because you know- I mean, cooking's an effort. I'm one of those people that hates cooking. I mean, I love eating. I hate cooking. So yeah. *laughs*

[Interviewer:] I'm with you.

[Dan:] And this was me sometimes. I would just go, "I don't want to cook." And then I would lay in bed all day and I wouldn't eat. And then another day, I would be feeling, you know, so self indulgent, I'd be like, "I'm going to order just the most decadent, gross amount of pizza no human should be able to consume in one sitting." And then do that just to fill the hole inside my soul with carbohydrates. And that may make you feel good for about ten minutes and then when you're digesting it all the next day, you realize that it's actually just another kind of self destructive behavior.

[Interviewer:] You also talk about medication as well, which I think was really brave. Cause even though lots of people might talk about feeling depressed, they don't share that they're talking any medication for it. In fact, the other day, my close friend shared with me that she was taking antidepressants. And I've known her for a decade and she's never told me that. Actually, it was because she's been listening to this podcast, which is great that she felt that she could share that. But do you think that is important to get the whole kind of picture out there?

[Dan:] I think there's a big stigma around taking medication, which is strange as an absolutely huge amount of the population are taking medication for all kinds of things. And antidepressants are very common. And of course we're saying this knowing that anyone listening- You should always consult a professional. Go to your doctor. Speak to them. For some people, medication works. For some people, it doesn't. It's one of many options but it's definitely something that- It can have big effects on how you behave. On how you need to live day to day. And you shouldn't be afraid of telling people that. It doesn't mean that you're broken. *laughs* It means that you're taking a step to try and get help and be better. And it's brave to share that, so I would encourage anyone that feels bad about the fact that they take medication to try to be more casually open about it. Which I appreciate can be really difficult because it just has this knock on effect of making everyone less ashamed.

[Interviewer:] What was that, kind of, first step like for you? Was it speaking to your family? Or was it going to the doctor when you sought professional help?

[Dan:] Well, the first time I sought professional help I think was when I was at University. I was going through a really hard- Kind of quarter life crisis time where I was thinking, "Oh, what am I doing with my life? Why am I enjoying what I'm doing?" And I just realized that I wasn't functioning on a day to day level. *laughs* And I spoke to one of the counselors at University and this was a positive experience. You know, sometimes if people talk about their mental health at their work place or their University, you hear these horror stories. I had one of those good examples where there was this lovely lady and she said, "It sounds like you have depression and if you need to take some time out of school to do that, then that's the right thing to do." And then I went to the doctor and then you know, we spoke and he said, "Yes, it sounds like this." And that was the first time I acknowledged it. And the first time for the few years, I kind of acknowledged it but I didn't actively work on it that much. And as I said, it was a few years later, when I was in my mid-twenties, when I was like, "No. If this is my normal, this isn't right. And it's something I need to make an effort to pull myself out of."

[Interviewer:] You are writing a book at the moment about this, aren't you? I wonder how that's been because sometimes, it's great, isn't it? To talk about stuff and other times, you actually just wanna be a bit quiet and deal with things, you know, in your own way. But I wonder whether a book has kind of open more things up for you.

[Dan:] Yeah, I mean, you know- Talk about coming out of the closet. Which is something I also literally did. *laughs*

[Interviewer:] We'll talk about that in a sec. *laughs*

[Dan:] Yeah, so the book is called "You Will Get Through This Night" and it is coming out in May next year. So it's only around preorder now, but people can find it on Amazon if they're interested. And it's quite wild for someone like me to write it. The book is a hand book. It's a tool for people to understand their mental health and to make changes to their improve their lives. And the idea behind it is that we are all kind of in this state where as humans in our modern society, there's various things that we feel ashamed to talk about. There's a stigma approaching various things. If we do certain things, we're viewed as weak. We don't want to admit certain things to ourselves and this is about breaking down all of those things and going, "Actually, all of these behaviors that so many of us do day to day are self destructive. These attitudes we have towards these certain things are totally wrong. We need to change the way we think about these things. We need to forgive ourselves slightly more. We need to be more patient." And also just understanding how all the things you do on a day to day basis affect your mental health. Sleep, exercise, socializing. Every single time you have a thought, you need to check that thought and go, "Am I being completely unreasonable and putting myself in a position where I'm going to have a crazy amount of stress or if I'm going to make myself really anxious." And the hope is that with this book, a lot of people will realize, "Oh my god, I do all of these things day to day and I had no idea what profound effect all of these things had on my life." I'm spicing it up slightly by obviously sharing my personal journey- *laughs* With all of these things and as you say- That is quite, uh, a strange experience for me because I- It's obviously been extremely helpful. I mean, it's been blowing my mind just writing this book. The whole thing done in consultation with a qualified psychologist, so obviously I know what I'm talking about when I'm giving this advice. And when I was reading all of the theory for me to turn into this book, I was just sat there myself- *laughs* As I would hope people would be when they read it thinking, "Oh my god, I'm awful! I need to give myself a break. We do all of these things all the time? And I'm making myself feel like this for no reason? That's crazy!" And came to saying, "Right, on this topic, I'm going to share with you what my journey has been dealing with this. Here's my stories about it. It's been simultaneously quite cathartic and to be honest, quite difficult revisiting a lot of these things. Especially if you go through things when you're younger or if you feel that there's certain things that you've moved past from. Then it can be quite upsetting to revisit these things and whilst initially, it was quite a jump to get into that, it definitely makes you realize that confronting things with a clear head, with the best of intentions and some honesty looking at yourself- It really makes you feel a lot better on the other side.

[Interviewer:] How do you cope with doing what you do because the industry you've chosen to work in- Not only like putting yourself out there on YouTube, but also saying, "I'm funny. Look at me, I'm going to make you laugh." You know, that must put a lot of pressure on you. But also, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm guessing it can sometimes it can be a bit solitary as well? How do you deal with all of that going on?

[Dan:] Oh god, yeah. I picked as a complete introvert with crippling social anxiety and mild agoraphobia- I picked the absolute worst career possible. *laughs*

[Interviewer:] Yeah!

[Dan:] But maybe, that's why the material is so honest. *laughs* You know? That's why I have so much to work with. I think that, you know, there is an element of being forced to confront your demons that probably helps accelerate my internal growth process. And especially from the comedy perspective, there is a fine line between saying, "I'm going to open myself up for people to laugh at my stories and kind of appreciating that I need to save a bit vulnerability." And it- You know, it was crazy. I made a video called "Trying To Live My Truth" about the concept of authenticity and how in life, if generally, if we aren't being authentic- And this isn't just doing a career that we love. It may be being honest in the relationships that we have day to day in really being true to ourselves about what we want to be doing, where we want to be. If you kind of lie to yourself and go, "Oh, I'm just going to do this for a bit to do here. I'm only having a relationship with these people for now." Eventually, it'll get to you and it will wear you down. That was a really hard thing for me to talk about because I was saying, "There's so many aspects of my life where right now, I feel like I'm not being authentic and I'm realizing it's really taking a toll of me. So some people may have to appreciate that I'm going to have to tell them things and I may not be the person that they thought I was but this is something that I have to do if I need to be happier."

[Interviewer:] We talked earlier about how, you know, you've done some more serious videos. But actually, even your video about depression is really funny. And obviously it's really great to be talking about mental health but we need to not be too worthy about it, don't we? And just- I was watching that video feeling really connected to what you were saying and then a second later, I was laughing out loud and actually, it reminded me a bit of "After Life"- Ricky Gervais' show. I don't know if you watch that but.

[Dan:] *laughs* Yeah, definitely.

[Interviewer:] It's that very fine line that- You know, in one of his scenes, I remember when he was talking to his dad that I was crying and then literally the next second, I was laughing out loud. And I just felt- That's such a positive thing that you do and is that a real conscious thing that you do?

[Dan:] I mean, my default is to always kind of break the tension by making people laugh. And there's a side to that like, "Okay, we can laugh about it but eventually we're going to have to be a bit serious." So you need a bit of both but I think especially when talking about these difficult topics, just making it funny- It breaks that ice. And often by pointing out the silly things that happen as a result of these things, you know, I've been making fun of the fact that I'm depressed all day and my friend's just like pouring popcorn all over my head. Like, "Come on! Enjoy the things that you used to enjoy." It's like okay, that's really silly. That's really goofy. And it's like- But it kind of is silly, you know? And then me kind of taking a step back and realizing, "Yeah, me lounging around in bed all day. Yeah me being afraid to go outside for this reason or that." There are little things that are relatable. They're just a bit silly. And when you can laugh at that- I mean, just laughing or smiling once. We can talk about the health of people with depression. Sometimes putting on a bit of comedy and watching something can really save the day. So I think that there's a real benefit to even the most difficult topics, finding something to make people laugh. It makes it easier.

[Interviewer:] Let's talk about your video that's- I don't know how many millions of views it's got. "Basically I'm Gay." Tell me about that video and why that was important to make.

[Dan:] So that was essentially a coming out video. I mean, I would say it was the biggest moment of my life in a lot of ways. Because I've had a real struggle with sexuality my entire life. I think I've known, on some level, that I was some kind of gay since I was a small child. And I had an incredibly difficult time in school with bullying. I had difficult relationships with some of my family members and it was honestly- It was quite traumatic and I never really realized it because I got used to that state of just accepting that this is the way things are and getting on with it to survive. Kind of very extreme version of the British stiff upper lip to get -on with it. And it was only really when I reached kind of 27/28 when I was like, "Oh my god. No, this is awful! *laughs* I've got so much baggage. I've got a heathrow carousel in my cupboard over here." It was terrible. And I ran away from this entire subject of sexuality because it was just difficult. And there was so much wrapped up in it. And for any courage that it took me for me to talk about mental health or even just, you know, terrible things that happened to me that may be embarrassing when I'm on stage in a little routine or something. For me to not just talk publicly about my sexuality and everything that went into it but just to accept it myself was a huge journey. And you know, it's called internalized homophobia and it's basically from growing up in such a homophobic environment. I was brainwashed, really, to kind of hate myself and not accept the fact of who I was. And this was such a huge part of my mental health-  My entire life. To the point where I only acknowledge it truly a few months before I made that video. I think when I was talking about that authenticity thing, I was just like, "I'm a sham." I was on a world tour with my friend. We did a stage show and went to eighteen countries. Think we met about fifty thousand people at these little meet and greets before the shows. And so many people would come up to me and they would be so honest. Some people would cry and they'd just say, "You opening up about depression gave me the strength to turn my life around." Or, "You talking about athenticity made me quit my job." There were other people that said, "I want to come out to my parents just because you talked about being authentic and about your mental health and these things." And I felt like a complete fraud because here I was- I was supposed to be this guy who made the funny videos but at the same time, I was talking about these topics and I was being open about myself. And I was just like, "The hugest thing is still completely hidden and it's something that I know I'm hiding from myself." And I just felt like I couldn't do it anymore. So I uploaded this video saying, "I really just need to think about how I can be more authentic because I felt like I've hit this road block in my life where I just can't continue. I've done it for too long. I've put it off and I just feel like in every aspect of my life, I've hit that wall. And until I break through it, I just can't do anything." And I basically disappeared from the Internet for about a year. And in that year, it was a complete journey where I said, I needed to acknowledge it for myself. I realized if I ever wanted to talk about this publicly, there's so many things I need to do. I need to come out to my family. I need to tell friends. I need to think about how it's going to affect my work life and I really just went on this complete crash course of a life wrecking in the start of 2019. *laughs* And it was a huge journey. As I said, I'm this huge socially awkward person so the idea of coming out to my family. Oh, I just couldn't do it. It was just awful. I remember it was Boxing Day 2018 and all my family were just sat watching "Chicken Run" or something. And I was like, "I'm gonna do it. I have to do it at some point, you know? I have to tell the family." And it's this awful thing coming out- It's like nobody wants it to be a big deal. *laughs* It's just because that we live in this world where people are presumed to be straight, it's not like gay people want to cause a big scene by coming out. They have to. Because no matter what, when you tell somebody, it's going to be a big surprise usually. So I'm the last person that wanted to make it all about me. God, I just want to blend into the background. I was thinking, "I'm going to have to completely blow up this Christmas." And I couldn't do it. So I thought that was the perfect opportunity and it's gone now. My family- For about two months, I was just like, "Aw, I ruined it.  I ruined it. That was my one chance."

[Interviewer:] Oh gosh, that must have been so stressful! You're just carrying that around.

[Dan:] Oh, it was awful! Yeah and then I went for dinner with my mum. And I was like, "Okay, intimate. I'll do this." And then again, I was like, "I don't want to ruin my mum's birthday by making it all about me." *laughs* Then I left having failed to do it then and I went, "Right, this is getting stupid now." So you know what I did? I wrote an email to all of my family. Just CC'd them on an email and just said, "Hi. Basically I'm gay. Let me know if you want to talk about it. Bye!" And I just hit send and closed my laptop. That is very much- That is the Dan Howell strategy of throwing the hand grenade, closing the door, and going, "Whoops!" And then I got the phone calls and you know, thankfully I think that we're living in a much more kinder, accepting world than we did twenty years ago. I think that we can see when it comes to all kinds of things- The world is getting a lot more smarter and educated and just accepting and more kind. So the reception that I got from my family in 2019 was very kind and loving accepting. And it was really kind of wonderful. It felt like this huge, colossal weight had been lifted from me where I felt like there was this wall between me and my family my entire life, where there was just something that was unsaid. Something that would've explained so much. A fundamental part of who I was. It was so important to get that out there. And as you said earlier, just you know, as someone that as a public figure. As an entertainer who talks about myself for my career, getting this out there? I don't know. It was just absolutely profound so I spent months and months writing this video. And for people that don't know, you'd expect a YouTube video to be a twenty second video of a cat falling down the stairs or something. I ended up putting this forty five minute- *laughs* It was basically a stand up special that I filmed in my office. It was dense. I was like, "Look, if I'm going to talk about sexuality, I've got say strap yourselves in people." And yeah, the moment I hit go on that, it transformed my entire life. It was really just this feeling of this pressure lifting all around me and it felt like age 28, that I finally alive for the first time. And my life had only just begun. Because only now was I actually out there. People knew who I was and I could kind of begin living authentically in world where people actually knew who I was. And that's crazy.

[Interviewer:] Do you wished you'd done it earlier or do you think it was the right time?

[Dan:] *sighs* I do wish I did it earlier. What I would say to anybody- You may be somebody queer in the closet thinking about doing this or you may just be someone who wants to open up to your loved ones about the fact that you may be depressed. Or you just want to be honest about the things in your life saying, "You know what? I really hate my job and it's ruining my life." Or something about the relationships in the life or the friendships. They're just not working. You cannot sit on these things forever. Confronting them an be so difficult. I mean, look at me. I basically went into a cave for a year- *laughs* And had the most socially awkward time ever dealing with it. And it was so difficult but I cannot tell you how free it felt afterwards. So that's definitely something I want everybody listening to this to take away.

[Interviewer:] Did you look at the comments on the video? And if you did, what were they like?

[Dan:] Yeah. I mean, I try not to- *laughs* You know, see what people are saying about me too much but I did. It was all very nice and as I say, you know, I wish I would've done it earlier in my life but I don't think I could've done it earlier in my life. And I didn't. And that was for a reason. I just couldn't have. I just wasn't in the place to. I did it when I did and thankfully we're in a world now that's so much better. And my audience that I have is so kind and loving and accepting. Because you know, I cultivated a following of people that liked me being open about mental health and sharing the most awkward, stupid stories from my life. So when I shared the biggest thing, what was there waiting for me was a community of people that were there to be supportive. And that was just- You know, I feel so lucky that I had that really positive experience. So just like the depression video, people were saying, "I feel seen by this." Or, "I now finally understand what it's like for gay people in a way that I didn't before. I can talk to my mum. I can show my mum this. I'm straight and I had no idea. This is amazing." And just to see that a byproduct of me being honest about myself managed to help people- It really, you know, it helps! *laughs* Cause it's safe to say that I've struggled a lot. I'm someone that is very, very good at beating myself up. I don't ever taking a win. People always say that about me. If something goes very well, they'll be like, "How'd it go Dan?" And I was like, "Yeah, yeah. It was alright." "What do you mean? It went great?" And I was like, "Yeah, yeah! It's fine." *laughs* So yeah definitely, I feel very lucky it's gone as well as it did.

[Interviewer:] You're an ambassador for YoungMinds as well and you know, you're obviously speaking out, "Hey!" And for your YouTube videos. Do you think there is still a stigma particularly attached to young people and mental health?

[Dan:] I think that definitely young people- When you get into teenage years, everyone's very defensive and they're very aggressive. And I think that a lot of people go into- Especially the school environment feeling scared. They don't want to be judged by other people. They don't want to seem weak. They're proactively feeling scared and defensive and aggressive to protect themselves from being harmed by people cause you're just so scared. So definitely. People don't want to admit that they have anxiety. I think that young queer people might not feel like you know, "I can't do this now. It's not worth the risk." And I think that the YoungMinds charity, which is part of the Royal Foundation that Harry and Will support, does such amazing jobs cause they not only create material to help young people understand, "If you're feeling like this, you might have anxiety. That's not normal. And here's how to help." But they also reach out to parents to say, "This is how you can observe these things that may be happening in your family and realize it may be silent. It may not be talking about it. It may be this huge issue happening right in front of you." And as well, they're helping the schools cause I think it's definitely safe to say that schools could do it a lot better in protecting mental health of the young people that go to them. So it's definitely one of the off shoots of me opening up about depression. Being apart of this amazing charity that does such great work. It helps me sleep at night.

[Interviewer:] And we'll hear, um, about an appeal actually to raise money for mental health including Mind and YoungMinds in a minute. It's so important, isn't it? That they exist. That they're even out there for us.

[Dan:] It's a lifeline for people because I think that anyone who struggled with any mental health issue listening to this would know that that one conversation- That first conversation. First olive branch that you get reaching out to you. That could be what saves your life. So it may feel like, "Oh, we've talked about this enough. Doesn't everyone know about mental health right now?" And there may be someone listening to this that's going, "You know what? That's me. I've got that thing that I haven't shared yet. I need to have that conversation. I need to have that one moment where someone listens to me, acknowledges how I feel." And definitely, it's just such a huge part of everyone's life. And it's completely silent. There's still so much more to do.

[Interviewer:] I hate this word, Dan, but I'm gonna say it. It sounds like you've been on a real journey. *laughs* I can't think of a better word.

[Dan:] *laughs* Oh no. I've been full hobbit there and back again, yeah. It's been a real around the world adventure. And you can watch it all on the internet, god.

[Interviewer:] I wonder if you could talk about kind of just the lowest point but then the kind of real highs. Cause then, at the moment, it sounds like you're in a really good place.

[Dan:] I mean, I'm definitely in a better place. I think that none of us should ever feel like we've solved all our issues and we're fine. You know, that was me, age 22. I was like, "Cool! Apparently I've got depression. That's fine. I know what to do it." It's like no, you need to- You need to make an effort. You need to really think about all the things in your life. You need to talk to a doctor. I think that, you know, for me- My lowest point was definitely when I was teenager. There was a point where I actually tried to take my own life because the struggles that I had with my sexuality were just so extreme within my friend group and school and everything that I was hearing from the world. I just really felt like, "I'm broken. This is not right." I looked at the world around me and I thought, "There's nowhere to go. There's nowhere else. I know everything." So it was that impulse impulse is what I think people in this situation feel. Where they just think, "This isn't about anyone and this isn't a rational decision, but I just feel like there's nowhere to go. And I need to hit the escape hatch." And I was so wrong because as I got older and time progressed, I just realized that the world is so big. And even if you feel like you're trapped in a situation, time can change everything. And if I just knew how much the world would change. How much my life would change. Not just with my career, but just moving to a different city. Meeting new people. I wasn't stuck. There was nothing like that and that was definitely the lowest point. And I feel so glad that I managed to make through that time. And the fact that you know, I made it through all these years and- *laughs* This journey that I went on. Kind of very publicly. Going from like- I think I even made a YouTube video just before I got a job at Radio One saying, "I'm going to drop out of Law School to try to make it as an entertainer." And everyone at the time was like, "You're an idiot. What are you doing? What?!" *laughs* Cause this before anyone had a career on the internet, you know? They were like, "Okay,so the BBC wants to give you this job. That's kind of cool. But are you sure you don't want to be a lawyer? That seems cool." My granddad was not happy.

[Interviewer:] I'm bet. *laughs*

[Dan:] You can see this whole journey and you know, from doing everything I did with Radio One to writing a book and to end up in a position where me just going on the journey that I need to go on personally ends up being shared with the world- That can do something for other people is just a bonus that makes me feel just really happy. Not just personally, but for the state that the world is in.

[Interviewer:] Aw Dan, it's been so nice chatting to you today. Thank you so much for your time.

[Dan:] It's been really nice. It's been like a therapy session. It's very cathartic! [Interviewer:] That's good! I'm for me. Great! Dan, thanks so much.

[Dan:] Thank you very much. Have a nice day, everyone.

[ayybtch]

The One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Things are going up and down for you as you try to navigate life after your breakup with Bucky. Everything leads to an accidental run-in with him at a coffee shop that leaves you and Bucky wondering if things could have been different. Based on the song The 1 by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: This is an angsty fic. The reader is actively struggling with mental illness and a breakup. There are mentions of being on antidepressants and symptoms such as anxiety, insomnia, and sometimes not having the energy for personal care, but nothing in-depth.

Word Count: 11,261

A/N: I owe a very special thank you to @borkingbarnes​, who has supportively been screaming at me for writing this ever since I told her this idea and gave me some brilliant suggestions during her beta read. The dividers were made by the lovely @whimsicalrogers​.

“So, how have the new meds been treating you? Are they still making you nauseous after you first take them?”

You looked across the room at your therapist and shook your head, “No, they’re not making me nauseous anymore. I’ve been making sure that I’ve got food in my stomach first and not just a cup of coffee. I’ve also been better about taking them at the same time each day,” you said.

She smiled at you. “Do you feel like they’ve been helping?”

You shrugged and offered a half-smile back. Not satisfied with your answer, she continued probing. “Well, do you feel like you have more energy than on the other meds? Are you sleeping more….?” She trailed off at the end, voice hopeful.

“Oh. Yeah, I have been sleeping a little better. I’ve been sleeping closer to 5 hours each night, though it’s still taking a really long time for me to fall asleep. I’ve had more energy but I don’t know if that’s because of the meds or the sleep?” You trailed off a bit at the end, unsure of if that truly answered her question.

“It could be a mix of both. I’m glad to hear you’re sleeping more though, you weren’t getting very much when you first started seeing me.” She offered you another smile before adjusting herself in her seat and continuing, “Now, what have you been doing with this extra energy? Any new hobbies, catching up with friends, going on dates, anything like that?”

You shook your head no. “I don’t have much of a friend group anymore, not since…” your voice faded before the sentence finished. You closed your eyes and shook your head slightly. Pull yourself together. “I am meeting Natasha after this, actually. She and I were friends before everything and she’s the only one that’s really stuck around since. It’s been about a month since I last saw her so I’m looking forward to seeing her.” The therapist nodded and offered a sympathetic smile that made your stomach turn. You decided to continue before she chimed in.

“I’m running again too. I used to go on a nightly run before things got bad. It’s not for as long or as far as I used to but it’s better than sitting on the couch, I guess.”

She nodded and began writing on her notepad, “That’s wonderful. What do you enjoy about your runs?”

Her question was unexpected and it took you a minute to answer. “It’s peaceful. It’s one of the few times I can shut my brain off and zone out. Though, if it’s a bad day it doesn't always work.”

She nodded and paused, as if trying to carefully choose her next words. “One thing I’ve noticed whenever stuff comes up is that you always talk about ‘before’, but what about the ‘after’? Have you thought about trying to get back out there and start your ‘after’?” An uncomfortable knot formed in your stomach as she spoke.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” you whispered.

She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. Eventually, she nodded and continued to make notes.

                                         ***

The session continued for another half hour before it ended with a smile and a brief conversation with her secretary, confirming your appointment for the same time next week.

As you stepped out the door, you let out a sigh of relief. Therapy sessions were hard. Even though today’s session had been relatively mild, the process was still draining and left you feeling exhausted most days. It really helped though and making the decision to go was one of the best decisions you could have made for yourself. A smile settled on your face as you pulled your jacket tighter across your chest before beginning your walk to meet Natasha.

You had discovered soon after starting therapy that walking to and from the appointment gave you the time you needed to prepare yourself for the session and unwind after. The hustle and bustle of New York created the perfect background noise for you to organize your thoughts. Most days it helped you process the questions the therapist asked. Often, you answered them a little deeper than what you had in the session knowing that nobody would know the real answer except for you.

Guilt gnawed at you as you thought about it. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to be honest? Were you still getting as much out of it as you could if you were completely honest? You shook your head and sighed. Sometimes there were things better left unsaid.

One of the many things that had been left unsaid had to do with what you missed most about being with him. You had shrugged it off when she asked, saying it was nice having a person around because it was less lonely. While true, the full answer was more painful than you felt comfortable admitting out loud. He had understood you in ways nobody else ever had and nobody else ever would again. It gave you the freedom to be unapologetically you every second of the day. The thought of not being known like that again and having to put on a facade felt like the loneliest existence the universe had to offer. It made your chest ache.

Today though, it gave you the chance to collect your thoughts before Natasha had the opportunity to interrogate you. To be fair, it wasn’t really an interrogation. She was far too gentle when she asked you questions, though you’re sure that’s one of the many techniques she chose from. Interrogation or not though, she would be watching you like a hawk the entire meal to make sure you were actually doing as well as you were claiming.

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside Natasha’s favorite Italian restaurant. She always recommended meeting up here purely because of the breadsticks. She swore they were the best in New York and ate at least three full baskets by herself each visit. You paused before entering, suddenly nervous about how it would go. There’s nothing to worry about, Natasha isn’t going to bring him up and isn’t going to push me past my boundaries. You weren’t quite as convinced as you would have liked to be, but you couldn’t delay it any longer as you stepped inside.

A blast of warm air surrounded you as you were greeted by the hostess. It didn’t take for her to lead you back to where Natasha was sitting, a glass of wine already in her hand. A second sat waiting on the table for you.

You walked over, bending down to give her a side hug and a peck on the cheek.

“You’re late,” she said reproachfully, eyes zeroed in on yours.

“I know, I’m sorry. My session went a little over today.” You pulled out your chair and sat down before continuing, “How are you? It’s good to see you.”

Natasha smiled brightly. “I’ve been good. I’ve been really looking forward to this, I was so happy when you said yes. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen you.” You grinned slightly and she continued. “I’m sorry that it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to catch up. Work has been keeping me even busier than usual. Stark has been working on all sorts of new tech developments and has somehow recruited me for testing.”

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine, “Nothing he’s made has killed you yet. That’s impressive.”

She snorted, “He’s lucky I didn’t flat out say no. His last update to the Falcon wings sent Wilson through the ceiling and landed him in the medbay for three days with a concussion.” Natasha noticed the look of concern on your face and waved her hand as she sipped on her wine. “He’s fine, don’t worry. All of the Avengers men have skulls harder than concrete.” The two of you burst into laughter at the thought.

A waiter arrived as your laughter died down to take your orders and to refill Natasha’s wine glass. You both thanked him as he turned to walk away. A quiet settled over the table and Natasha’s gaze landed firmly on you.

“So how have you been?” she asked softly, voice far gentler than anyone would expect from a former assassin. You shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“Some days are better than others,” you said, “Overall things are better than they’ve been for a while now though. My shrink has me on some new meds that seem to be helping and I’ve been working harder on doing little things to take care of myself every day, not just the good days.”

Natasha nodded, eyes still fixed on you. Slowly, she reached a hand out across the table and placed it on top of yours. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You can call me any time of day and as long as I’m not on a mission, I can be at your apartment within the hour.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at her words. You nodded quickly, eyes blinking fast to try and keep the tears that were welling up from falling. She gave your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back.

“Now where the hell are our breadsticks? This is going to be a failed meal if I have less than twelve in me before the main dish arrives.” Her words made you burst out laughing once again and succeeded in putting a smile on your face for the remainder of the meal.

                                        ***

“Are you sure I can’t drive you back to your apartment?” Natasha asked, wrapping her scarf around her neck as the two of you stepped out of the restaurant. You nodded at her and smiled.

“I enjoy walking, it clears my mind,” you said. She let out a disapproving hum but didn’t argue further. She pulled you into a bone-crushing hug before turning and walking towards where her car was parked. You watched as she stepped in and waved as she pulled out of the parking lot. You stood and watched until her car was out of sight before turning to start the walk home.

As it was on the walk to the restaurant, the busy streets provided the perfect background noise needed for you to quiet your mind. You focused on your breathing, allowing yourself to try and channel any residual nervous energy outward. With each breath, the faces passing by began to blur. Neon signs hanging in the windows of the shops you passed by became nothing more than a gentle glow in your peripheral. With each step you took, the background seamlessly blended together more and your focus on yourself heightened. A sense of calm settled itself in your chest. The feeling grew stronger with each block you passed until a small smile made its way onto your face. That feeling ended abruptly as you turned around the next block.  

There was a large crowd waiting at the bus stop, but your eyes focused on one man. You stared at his silhouette, panic building with each second. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of you and your feet had magically turned into cinder blocks. Is that...? No, it couldn’t be…

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, the man turned slightly so you could see his face, and a sigh of relief left you. You stood there a moment longer to examine his side profile. It wasn’t him; he just happened to look like him. He was about the same height and weight, with similar chocolate waves. Your eyes landed on his light brown leather jacket and a lump formed in your throat. He had worn a similar jacket the day you met. It felt like being thrown back in time as you continued to stare at the man in front of you.

Natasha drug you through a hallway, not caring about your protests to slow down. “I have someone I want you to meet.” She smirked as she spoke, leaving you to wonder what she was plotting.

A group of choices greeted the two of you as you entered the room. You waved at Steve and Sharon sitting on the couch as Natasha continued to pull you across the room to where two men were standing. One of the men was Sam, whom you had met the last time Natasha brought you to the compound. The other was Bucky Barnes. You hadn’t met him before but you knew who he was. It was impossible not to given how public everything about Hydra had become.

“Barnes, I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Natasha said, turning slightly towards you.

Bucky turned to look at you, offering a charming smile as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Bucky.”

You shook his hand and introduced yourself, hoping to god you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. The pictures of him floating around on the news did not do him justice. Bucky was absolutely breathtaking. His smile lit up his eyes in a way no camera could ever hope to capture. His hair was cropped just above his shoulders, falling into a beautiful wavy pattern. You realized you were staring and felt your face get hot.

“Uh, I like your jacket,” you mumbled, hoping he hadn’t realized you were staring. The leather jacket was a beautiful light brown. It looked old, but well loved at the same time.

He smiled widely at you, “Thanks! Leather jackets are kind of my thing. Sam here thinks I have too many but there’s no such thing as too many leather jackets, wouldn’t you agree?”

As the memory floated away, you couldn’t help but think how Bucky probably would’ve gone up to the man to ask about his jacket. You chuckled at the thought. As soon as he walked away, he would’ve immediately started looking up where he could find one for his own closet. It didn’t matter how many leather jackets he had. He always wanted more.

The chuckle died on your lips and was replaced by an uncomfortable knot settling in your stomach. A heavy weight fell on your chest and you forced yourself to find the energy to trudge forward.

The remainder of the walk was a blur, but not in the same way it had been before. This wasn’t the good kind of blur that helped you to focus. It was the kind that left you feeling suffocated and as if everything would come crashing down all at once. That had been the first happy thought about Bucky since the two of you broke up. His presence in your thoughts was so strong, he might as well have been walking right next to you. You could practically feel his knuckles brushing against yours with each step you took. If you closed your eyes, you swore you could smell his cologne.

The harsh reality of how alone you were hit you as the greeting from your apartment’s doorman pulled you from your thoughts. You shot him a small smile before rushing inside and all but sprinting up the stairs. Your hands shook as you unlocked the door to your apartment, though you couldn't tell if it was from your thoughts of Bucky or from the sudden burst of energy that left you slightly winded.

Once inside, you rushed to your bedroom and changed into the first sports bra and pair of leggings you saw. You needed to get Bucky off your mind and the only way you knew how was to run. It was going to be a long run tonight.

The doorman waved at you again as you exited the building, surprised to see you again so soon. “Someone is feeling motivated today I see,” he joked. You shrugged and slowly began to jog.

                                        ***

It took a while to get into your groove, but once you were there you felt good. The movement helped settle the anxious energy that had been building since you had seen the man at the bus stop, while the steady breathing brought your focus back to the here and now just like it had before. That’s something else to mention if she asks about my runs again, you thought.  These runs bring my focus to this exact moment in time.

That thought was lost as you passed a small, hole in the wall theater. Small groups were exiting the building, each talking excitedly amongst themselves about the movie that had just finished. The nauseous feeling from earlier came back as memories resurfaced. That was Bucky’s favorite movie theater. Every Sunday they played movies from the 1920s and 1930s. He used to drag you along with him whenever he saw one he remembered from his childhood. Each time he swore up and down that you were about to experience a cinematic masterpiece like no other and that it would change the way you looked at movies. You always rolled your eyes as he said it, but the magic you felt in that theater with him was like no other.

Movies made back then were so different from the movies made now. The characters felt so much more real. They were allowed to be people. Their faults and flaws didn’t take away from the good things about them. These films never failed to make you feel all of the emotions you were meant to feel and each time you exited the theater, you couldn’t help but wish you could’ve remained in that little bubble just a few minutes longer. Those bittersweet feelings about the ending never lasted long though, as Bucky would wrap his arm around your shoulder and proceed to talk your ear off about the movie until you made it home.

“You know Doll, the greatest films of all time were never made,” he said, smiling down at you.

You just laughed and shook your head.“Bucky that makes absolutely no sense.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically, making you laugh again. “Think about it though, how many movies haven’t been made because someone decided they weren’t good enough for the big screen? How many stories have been brought into existence but never been told to another living soul?”

A car horn brought you back into reality. Bitterness crept into your chest as you processed the memory that had just played out picture-perfect in your mind. Those afternoons with him in the theater had been some of the best afternoons of your life. Even if you weren’t crazy about the movie, Bucky’s sheer excitement about it was enough to convince you of how wonderful it truly was. If only he had felt that same amount of joy in other areas of your relationship.

Your bitterness slowly began to turn to anger as you thought about the last few months of being with Bucky. Sunday matinees had stopped being a regular thing as Bucky’s work schedule picked up until they stopped happening entirely. His new position training new SHIELD agents and prospective new members to the Avenger ate away at his time. All of his time. It got to the point Bucky never stopped working. Even at home, his thoughts were on paperwork to be filed, training to be planned, or meetings to be run. You’d be sitting on the couch next to him trying to talk only to receive disinterested “hmms” or the occasional “That’s nice honey.”

You tried bringing it up to no avail. He always brushed it off and said things would calm down eventually and that he just needed you to hold out a bit longer. He never outright said his work was more important to him but the implication was there and you felt the weight of it every single day. You bit your tongue and played along for a while, but after several months of hearing the same excuses, you finally snapped. Unfortunately, so did Bucky.

“All you ever do is work. I can’t remember the last time we went and did something together. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time you cared enough to even ask me about my day. It’s like you don’t even want me around anymore,” you hissed, glaring at Bucky.

“Excuse me for caring about my fucking job. One of us has to if we’re going to continue affording this place,” he scoffed.

Ice filled your veins as you stared at him, fist clenched at your side. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, we both know you’re barely getting your work done on time. You lay here on the couch all day watching TV. You’re lucky you’re allowed to work from home because you look like a walking disaster half the time. You’ve stopped wearing clean clothes, you hardly shower, you hardly eat, and you hardly sleep. Face it, you’re depressed.” His voice was flat as he spoke.

You furiously blinked back tears that were trying to well up as you processed his words. “First of all, I am not depressed,” you muttered, “Second, if I’m such a walking disaster then what are you even still doing here?”

“I am still here because I care about you. I have lost track of how many times I have asked you to get help. I’ve been where you are, I know what you’re going through and I know what it takes to come back from it. If you never bleed, you’re never going to grow. If you can’t move past this, then we -” he paused to motion between the two of you “- can’t move past this.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke. There was no malice in them, but there was also none of the kindness or warmth you wished for. His gaze just felt indifferent.  

You remained silent as you tried to find words. Bucky continued watching you, waiting expectantly for a response. A response never came, however, and he let out a loud sigh.

“If you don’t have anything to say to that, then I think we’re done here. I can’t keep doing this anymore. I love you, but neither of us is happy. I can’t give you what you want and you can’t give me what I need,” Without another word, Bucky grabbed his coat and walked out the front door of the apartment.

That was the last time that you saw Bucky. He had sent you a text a few days later asking when a good time to come pick up his stuff would be. You responded begrudgingly, telling yourself that the sooner his stuff was gone the sooner your life could get back to normal. When the day came, you forced yourself to get out of the apartment. The thought of seeing him after what went down between you left you seeing red. When you finally went back after he left, you felt none of the happy emotions you had convinced yourself you would feel.

Instead, you felt the empty spots in the room. Every missing item you noticed felt like a blow to the stomach and caused fresh tears to well up in your eyes. Pictures were no longer hanging from the walls; random gaps were in the bookshelves; his leather jacket was no longer slung across the back of the chair he loved in the living room. You stumbled back to your room with your eyes closed, refusing to see what other memories had been ripped from their rightful homes. Once there, you collapsed on the bed and laid there for two days. It wasn’t until Natasha broke into your apartment to check on you after countless missed calls and ignored texts that you finally moved from that spot.

For the millionth time that day, your stomach twisted as thoughts of Bucky floated around in your head. Despite it all, you regretted not being there when he came to get his things. There was never a proper goodbye between you and the thought drove you mad sometimes. Maybe if I had been there, we could’ve worked this out. You scoffed at the thought, but couldn’t deny the heaviness lingering in your chest.

At times you considered reaching out to him, wondering if he would be willing to give you the closure you so desperately needed. Even if it was just over text, it might be better than the nothing you currently had. You still had his number. The two of you even still followed each other on social media. He liked what few posts you made, but you had never been able to bring yourself to look at the stuff he posted. The lines of communication were there, you just had to use them. But communication is a two-way street; if he wanted to talk to you, he’d reach out. Right? That thought had kept you from texting him more times than you could possibly count.

Questions about what could have happened that day swirled throughout your head as your feet pounded against the pavement. Could you have fixed things, or would it still have ended in breaking up? Could you have agreed to still be friends? Would you have at least been able to say goodbye, or would he have walked silently out the door again?

The thoughts continued to plague you until the ache in your legs was too strong to take another step. Out of breath, you looked around at where you stopped trying to figure out how far you had run. It wasn’t until you noticed the fountain about a dozen feet behind you that you realized where you were.

Tony had once rented out a plaza nearby for a 1920s themed fundraiser gala the first year you and Bucky were dating. The gala was the first public event you ever attended with him, though it certainly hadn’t been your last. Natasha had taken you shopping and helped you find a flapper-style dress leading up to it. The two of you did your hair and makeup together, giggling about how you felt like you were getting ready for a high school dance. When you stepped out of the room with Natasha, Bucky wasn’t able to speak. He spent the whole night staring at you like a lovestruck teenager, only to turn bright red whenever someone mentioned it.

Towards the end of the night, you and Bucky had drunkenly stumbled out of the plaza to escape the crowd and found your way over to this fountain. Rather, you had stumbled out drunkenly. Bucky wasn’t affected by human alcohol and hardly had any of the Asgardian mead Thor had so generously brought. While he was a little more cheery than usual, he wasn’t intoxicated enough to even pretend like he was tipsy.

A giggle left your lips as you stumbled forward. “Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.”

Bucky laughed at you and picked you up, carrying you bridal style. He spun around slowly as he searched for somewhere he could set you down. His eyes eventually settled on the fountain and began walking towards it. He carefully set you down before sitting down next to you. His eyes were fixed on you as you took off your shoes, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you did. You smiled over at him, before turning around to stare at the fountain in wonder. A giggle left your lips as you pulled up your dress and began walking around in the fountain.

You laughed any time you went through a jet of water. The temperature difference was soothing against your skin and almost left a tickling sensation as you passed. Eventually, you arrived back at where he was sitting and the smile on his face filled your stomach with butterflies. You bent down slightly to press your lips against his, your hands making their way through his hair. His hands landed on your hips and pulled you closer to him. You felt dizzy as he held you, though you weren’t sure if it was him or the glasses of champagne. You pulled away abruptly as an idea struck you, leading to Bucky’s eyes opening in confusion. His gaze fell upon the mischievous look you wore and he opened his mouth to speak. Before he managed to make a sound, your hands left his hair and were reaching down to splash water onto him.

He tried to catch your hands to stop you, but you stepped back just out of reach, but not far enough you couldn’t keep splashing him. Without a word, he reached down to take off his shoes and socks. A gasp left you as he stepped into the fountain and you rushed to hide behind the fountain’s centerpiece. He chased after you, hands eventually catching your waist and spinning you around to face him. He stared down at you, wonder and adoration written on his face. He slowly leaned forward to press his lips against yours.

The dizzy feeling from before came back, though this time you could say with absolute certainty it was because of the man standing in front of you. His lips were so soft against yours, yet still carried such a force they left you breathless. Fireworks had nothing on how he made you feel. No words could ever hope to describe the love and adoration bursting in your chest.

This time, he was the one to pull back first. He moved his lips up slightly, pressing a kiss to your nose and your forehead before leaning his head against yours. “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and the two of you began to slow dance in the fountain. You don’t know how long you were in the fountain dancing; it felt like eternity paused to give you and your love all the time the universe had to give so you could enjoy this moment a little longer. The only sensations tying you to reality were Bucky’s warmth and the cool water moving at your feet as Bucky spun you around. You pulled away slightly and smiled at him. “We should make a wish,” you said.

Bucky looked at you with confusion. “A wish?”

You nodded, a small smile filling your face, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

The laugh that left his lips made your heart flutter. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he paused to laugh again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.” One of his hands left yours and reached into his pocket, looking for his wallet. He opened it and pulled out two pennies and handed one to you. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

You stared down at the penny in your hand, wondering what wish could possibly be better than the night you were currently having with Bucky. The wish hit you suddenly, a smile breaking out on your face. You pressed your lips to the penny and wished with all your might, ‘I wish for us to have more moments like this together, from now through the rest of our days”. You opened your eyes and tossed the penny outward. Bucky’s coin was soon nestled safely at the bottom of the fountain with yours.

“What did you wish for?” he asked, pulling you back into his arms to continue dancing.

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he spun you. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

Bucky chuckled, “Me too honey, me too.”

Your eyes came back into focus and a quiet sob left you. You stood in front of the fountain and cried into your hands, cursing all of the emotions you felt. That night had left you convinced that Bucky Barnes was the one. You had fallen asleep dreaming of dancing like that with him at your wedding. But now? Now all you wanted to do was scream. You wanted to scream at him, at yourself, and at the universe for being cruel enough to lead you back to this fountain without him at your side.

As the tears began to slow, a new kind of weight settled in your chest. He really could have been the one. He could have been everything you dreamed of and more, but there was nothing you could do to go back in time to change things. He decided to walk out that door and leave you with nothing more than an empty space in your heart, one to match the empty spaces he left in your apartment.

The questions the therapist had asked you started ringing through your ears as you continued to stare blankly at the fountain. What about the ‘after’? Maybe she had a point bringing it up today. You were still stuck in the ‘before’. Maybe it was finally time to start moving on. Missing items could be replaced; missing love could be given by someone else. All you had to do was make the decision to take your first steps into the ‘after’.

Your feet remained glued in place as you tried to make sense of it all.

You were confused as to where you were. Looking around, nothing seemed familiar. It wasn’t until a familiar silhouette caught your attention that you realized where you were. Bucky stood at the top of the mountain, staring down at the canyon below. Green trees and bushes lined the ground and the air was filled with the sound of birds chirping. The view was beautiful, but you couldn’t stop staring at Bucky. He looked the same, yet something felt different. Bucky seemed calmer than you had seen him in years, almost as if all of his stress had faded away. His body language was relaxed and he seemed to be in no rush to leave where he was.

Suddenly, the once green mountain top was now covered in a blanket of snow. Bucky was now wearing a thick winter coat and was strapping his feet onto a snowboard. He soon had his helmet and goggles on and began his descent down the mountain. It felt like you were flying along with him as you watched him expertly weave his way through the trees. The ease at which he moved confused you. Since when did Bucky know how to snowboard? He expressed wanting to try but never had while you were together. Confusion clouded your mind until Bucky reached the bottom of the mountain and came to a halt. He removed his helmet and a look of pure exhilaration filled his face. His excitement made your heart burst. As you reached out to try and touch him, the scene changed once again.

This time you were in the middle of the ocean. The vast expanse of blue was the only visible thing in sight other than Bucky. He was in full scuba gear, just floating there waiting. He was so still that if it weren't for the stream of bubbles that came with each exhale, you wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was breathing. Out of nowhere, a shape appeared in the distance. As it got closer, you felt your stomach drop. A large shark swam slowly towards Bucky. You rolled your eyes at the realization. Of course, he would go swimming with sharks with no safety cage. That idiot had no respect for your nerves or your -

You were woken up abruptly by the sound of your phone ringing. You groaned and cursed yourself for it somehow not being on silent. In your confused state, you reached out and slowly felt around on the top of your nightstand trying to find your phone. Once you found it, you tilted the screen so you could see who was calling. A beautiful picture of Natasha filled your screen and you sighed. Only Natasha could call randomly and happen to wake you up from a dream about Bucky. You pressed the answer button and begrudgingly brought the phone to your ear.

“Morning, you better have a good reason for waking me up,” you mumbled, letting out a yawn as you finished speaking.

“It’s past noon, you know. Most decent people are already up by now,” You could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.

“Shut up. It’s still morning if I haven’t gotten out of bed yet. What do you want? I was having a nice dream.”

Your gruff response got a laugh from Natasha. “Well I was calling to see how your Tinder date went last night, but now I’m wondering if I should be asking what you were dreaming about that has you being this testy,” she teased.

You rubbed your eyes and groaned, “The dream was nothing special, I’m just mad you woke me up. The Tinder date was also nothing to write home about. The guy was awful. He started off super charming like they always do, but he got snappy with our waitress and then tried to get snappy with me when I called him out on it. I paid for my half of the bill and left as quickly as I could.”

“Ugh, gross. Men are actually the worst,” Natasha said. You hummed in agreement and she continued, “So are you ready for me to start setting you up, or are you going to keep giving these Tinder people a try?”

You sighed and paused for a moment to think. “Nat, I know you’re trying to help but the only people you have that you can set me up with are all SHIELD employees. I don’t see it ending well if I go down that path given my prior dating history.”

A scoff came through the phone. “He’s dating again too, so he has no right to be pissy about anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, he was also the one who ended it so he doubly has no right to be upset.”

You sat up straight as she spoke, your stomach dropping at the thought. “He’s dating again?” Your voice sounded small, smaller than it had in ages.

This time it was Natasha’s turn to pause before responding. “Yes. He’s taken a few of the receptionists here out on coffee dates, but nothing seems to be sticking. If Wilson is to be believed, he’s also on Tinder. I can’t imagine that’s working out very well for him either though.”

You felt nauseous, but you forced yourself to pause to recenter your thoughts. Of course he would be dating again. It’s been almost a year since you broke up. If you’re dating again, it only makes sense that he is as well. He deserves to be happy too. A heavy sigh left you, “Well, I hope he’s having better luck than I am.”

                                        ***

You were on the phone with Natasha for another twenty minutes before she had to go. It felt nice catching up with her, and the two of you made plans for another lunch get together later in the week. The conversation had quickly transitioned away from dating, but the fact Bucky was dating again lingered in the back of your mind for the entirety of the call.

You had been on Tinder for a while now, but somehow it never occurred to you that he might be too. How does a superhero just casually join the worst dating app in existence? Do people actually believe it’s him when they come across his profile? You couldn’t help but snort at the thought. Conversations on dating apps sucked enough as it is, but having to try and prove you’re who you say you are the way Bucky must have to certainly would make it that much less enjoyable.

Almost as if it knew you were thinking about it, a Tinder notification popped up on your lock screen. You opened up the app and saw two new messages from someone you had matched with. You typed out a response and then proceeded to scroll through the list of other potential matches. Most of the profiles you looked at were immediate no’s, but there were a few you swiped right on. It never ceased to amaze you how bad the men on this app were at smiling in pictures. Most of them had only a slight grin in one or two pictures. Any profile with a man properly smiling almost always got a swipe right. The only other type of picture that had that sort of response was for cute cats and dogs.

You continued to swipe, pausing occasionally to respond to a message. Out of nowhere, a familiar pair of blue eyes started staring up at you, causing you to nearly drop your phone in surprise. Of course the day you find out Bucky is on Tinder is the day you come across his profile. You quickly took a screenshot before swiping left and exiting out of the app. You sent the screenshot to Natasha. She responded almost immediately, Guess Wilson was telling the truth 🙄

You laughed at her response as you got out of bed, ready to finally start your day.

                                        ***

A sigh of relief left you as you collapsed on your couch after spending most of the afternoon running errands. It hadn’t been anything too bad, but that didn’t stop you from being thankful it was over. You laid there for a few minutes, just enjoying the stillness and the comfort of being on your couch. Once settled, you reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the glass of wine you had poured, and opened up your phone.

You opened up Snapchat and responded to the few snaps you had from Natasha and other friends before opening up Instagram. You mindlessly watched people’s stories, skipping through any of the ones that didn’t interest you. You paused however on Bucky’s.

He was standing next to a beautiful woman, each of them holding a painting in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Both of them had smiles that filled their faces. You stared at the picture, unsure of what you should be feeling. On one hand, it was nice seeing him so relaxed and happy. His posture reminded you eerily of how he looked in your dream. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a touch of bitterness. You had practically begged him to go with you to a wine and paint night while you were together. He always used work as an excuse, either he was too tired from work or he had too much work left to do. You stared at the picture for a minute longer, wondering if they’d be going home together or parting ways for the night. You sighed, shaking your head at your own stupidity before continuing to scroll.

The wind blew violently around you as you struggled to make your way up the street. The weather turned unexpectedly as you were out on your run, so you rushed towards the closest coffee shop hoping to wait out the weather and avoid having to pay for a cab back home. The barista greeted you as you stepped inside and you offered her a smile.

“What can I get for you?” she asked.

You stared up at the menu, considering your options. “One large hazelnut latte and a cinnamon roll, please.”

She entered everything into the computer and you held out your card for her. Once your payment was processed, you turned to find a seat. The coffee shop was crowded, no doubt due to the bad weather driving people indoors. You looked around unsuccessfully and had almost resigned yourself to standing when a familiar voice called out.

You jumped at the sound. You turned around and made eye contact with Bucky Barnes for the first time since he walked out your front door. He was sitting there grinning ear to ear, almost as if he was genuinely happy to see you. The thought made your heart burst and it was impossible to hold back an equally big smile.

“Hey Bucky, how’s it going?”

“It’s going really well! Thanks for asking,” he paused and looked around before continuing, “Do you want to sit down? There’s not a lot of seating left and it’s just me here.” His hand gestured towards the empty seat across from him as he spoke.

You paused, unsure of if you should take it or continue to look elsewhere. You looked around the room for an empty seat but didn’t see any. Well, I guess we’re doing this. You stepped forward and mumbled out a thanks as you sat down.

“I’m kind of surprised to see you here if I’m honest. I didn’t think you came to this part of the city very often,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I generally don’t. The weather took a bit of a nasty turn while I was out on my run. I stepped in hoping that by the time I’m ready to leave it’ll have calmed down.”

Another smile broke out across his face as you spoke. “You’re running again? That’s awesome.” He sounded sincere as he spoke which made you smile back.

You nodded, but before you could respond the barista arrived with your coffee and cinnamon roll. You thanked her and took a long sip of your coffee, enjoying the warmth you felt as you did. An awkward silence filled the air as both of you tried to size the other up. You decided to break the silence.

“So, what’s new with you?”

                                        ***

An hour later, the two of you were still chatting away happily at the table. Once the conversation started, it didn’t stop. Everything felt like it had at the start of your relationship: easy, comfortable, and filled with excitement. The only pauses that occurred were when the barista refilled both of your coffees and brought Bucky a cinnamon roll, which he ordered after you spent five minutes going on about how incredible it was.

One of the things you had forgotten about being around Bucky was the warmth he exuded. Even on his worst days, he had the unwavering ability to make the room feel safe. You couldn’t ever quite pin down whether it had to do with his cologne being a comforting smell or if that’s just who he was. All you knew is that he always left you aching to lean into his chest and stay there until you absolutely couldn’t. Needless to say, today it left you feeling quite confused given everything that had happened between you.

The thoughts you had several months ago about getting closure were brought back to the forefront of your mind. How had things gotten so bad between you? How had both of you let this wonderful thing fall to pieces without even one final attempt at holding it together? Each little pause in the conversation as you transitioned between topics left you aching to ask all of the questions you had. Everything was so easy and so smooth between you today that you almost felt hope that things were salvageable between you. Maybe, just maybe, your fountain wish could still come true. As you were finally working up the courage to ask, his next sentence knocked all other thoughts out of your head.

“Did you hear that Steve and Sharon are finally engaged? Took that meathead long enough to ask.”

A gasp left your mouth, “No way! It’s about freaking time. Have they picked a date yet?”

He nodded. “First weekend in June. Sharon’s already picked their wedding colors too; sage green and rose gold. She explicitly said she picked rose gold because she wants to serve that rosé champagne you introduced her to. It’s still her favorite to this day.”

A bittersweet smile made its way onto your face as you thought about what he said. You had brought two bottles of that sparking rosé to a dinner Sharon hosted once, back when she and Steve were still circling around their feelings for each other. Sharon had barely taken her first sip before asking you for details on where you bought it. Ever since, Sharon always had a bottle in her fridge. Her friendship was the one you missed the most after the breakup. There had been a few half-hearted attempts from both of you to reach out, but each time her responses felt forced. Eventually you stopped trying.

“Well, I’m sure it’ll be a beautiful wedding. They deserve it,” you said. A chuckle left your lips as a new thought entered your head. “How on Earth is Steve going to choose between you and Sam for best man?”

Bucky joined in on your laughter, making your stomach do summersault after summersault. “Sam and I were actually wondering the same thing, but apparently they’ve decided to not do a bridal party. That makes things easy for me though. I get to kick back and enjoy the wedding knowing I have no responsibilities.”

The idea of Bucky having a blast at a wedding made you smile. The smile faded slightly as you realized this meant Bucky was now going to need a date for this wedding. Images of him in a fancy suit, twirling another woman around the way he had in the fountain with you flashed before your eyes. You felt your heart breaking all over again at the thought of how it could’ve been you if you hadn’t fucked it all up. How stupid could you have been thinking the two of you could talk things out after all this time. He’s probably already planning on asking that girl from the wine and paint night to go with him. She had appeared on his social media several times since that night and each time it made your chest ache a little more. Bucky’s voice broke you from your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You tried smiling but felt yourself falter and knew he noticed it too. “Yeah, just caught up in my thoughts.” You needed to get out of here and fast. Conveniently, your phone screen lit up and you were able to fake gasp at the time. “Oh my god, look how late it is. I really should get going.”

Bucky stared at you, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change in the atmosphere. You stood and rushed to collect your things.

“It was really nice seeing you again Bucky,” you said, offering him a half-smile as you take your first steps away from the table. He nodded, still looking unconvinced.

“It really was. Maybe we could do this again sometime?” He asked, trying his hardest to keep too much optimism from creeping into his voice.

Your eyes went wide with surprise, but you slowly nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

The same awkward silence from before filled the air, only this time neither of you seemed to know how to break it. You offered a small wave and made your way out the door, refusing to turn around and hug him despite how strongly your body was screaming at you to do so.

Bucky stood there staring after you until you were out of sight. A sigh left him after you rounded a corner and he began to collect his things.

                                        ***

Bucky had made his way back to the Avengers compound with relative ease, though his mind was still stuck back at the coffee shop with you. He had nearly choked on his coffee when he saw you walk in and hardly realized what he was doing when he called out to you. His mind had started screaming at him from the second he offered you a seat and apparently had yet to find a good enough reason to stop. Talking to you had been magical. He had forgotten how well the two of you meshed once a conversation was started. Nobody else had ever been able to keep up with his constant jumping between topics, not even Sam and Steve. You never made him feel bad for his quick transitions; you just understood and accepted that was the way his mind worked. Even after all that time, you took it all in stride.

An unexpected slam of a cabinet door caught his attention as he made his way through the communal kitchen. Sam was standing there, unloading dishes from the dishwasher. Bucky greeted the man with a gentle nod of the head as he pulled out one of the barstools to sit.

“That was a long coffee shop visit, you run into a cute girl there?” Sam teased, smirk playing across his face.

“I ran into her.”

Sam’s motions paused as he processed Bucky’s words. He looked up at his friend, who was conveniently not meeting his gaze, unsure of how to respond. “Her as in…?”

Bucky nodded and Sam let out a slow puff of air. “How are you feeling?” Sam asked cautiously.

It took a few minutes for Bucky to find the words. “You know Sammy, I actually don’t know. There are too many contradictory feelings in my head to pinpoint just one.” He finally looked up and met Sam’s eyes.

Sam motioned for him to continue.

“It was so nice to see her again and talk to her. It made me feel like things were back when we were both still head over heels in love with each other. She’s doing so well. She’s made huge progress mentally, she’s been given a promotion at work, she’s just out there living her life. It made me so happy to see...

“But the happier I got sitting there talking to her, the angrier I got with myself for being such an ass while I was with her. Who has a woman like that in their life and chooses to ignore her for work? What kind of jerk does that?” He paused for a moment, staring down at his feet before continuing.

“There was a moment where she looked at me and I looked at her and I just knew we were both wondering where the hell we went so wrong. She looked like she wanted to say something so badly, but decided against it and just...got up and left. I kinda deserved it though-” he let out a dark chuckle, “- it’s what I did to her after all.”

Sam had continued unloading the dishes as Bucky spoke, trying to keep things casual while he got everything off his chest. Once Sam knew Bucky was done, he paused and rested both hands on the counter to give his friend his full attention.

“Yeah, you were an ass who put work first. She was a great girl who loved you unconditionally. You let her down and yourself down too. But she also had her issues that contributed to what happened. It’s not all on you.” Sam shot a reassuring smile at Bucky.

Bucky nodded, knowing Sam was right. He couldn’t help but sigh and put his head in his hands though as more thoughts swirled around in his head. “I can’t help but think about how my actions probably worsened things for her though, you know? She was depressed for a while before I started acting that way, but I certainly didn’t help the situation. And just...I walked out on her. I walked out and didn’t even give her a proper goodbye.”

Sam stood still and nodded along. “You did, but what you’re forgetting is that you also did because it was also the best thing for you at the time. Both of you were unhappy with who the other was becoming at that time. Sometimes breaking up is the best route to take and they don’t always end with a clear-cut goodbye. You guys may have missed out on some closure, but if today went as well as you said it did, maybe you’ve got a different kind of closure coming down the pipe.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked up at his friend. “What do you mean?”

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed softly, “Man, what did your dumb ass do with girls before I came along?” He continued laughing for a moment before resuming, “What I’m getting at is that if today went as well as you think before the awkward ending, what if there’s a possibility of reconciling? Even if it’s not in a romantic sense, you could always try and be friends.”

For a moment, Bucky’s heart surged. Maybe Sam was right, maybe things could be fixed. He knew things were going well before you got up to leave, maybe he could try and make things right.

Then, the memory of how uneasy and uncomfortable you looked at the end of the conversation replayed in his mind. He felt his throat tighten and tears well up in his eyes. You didn’t want him back. He had his chance today and he blew it.

He shook his head slowly and whispered, “I don’t think that’s going to happen, Sammy.”

                                        ***

Sam eventually let the topic drop and Bucky was free to make his way back to his rooms. A familiar meow rang out from across the room and was soon followed by the sound of excited footsteps rushing towards him. Alpine rubbed himself against Bucky’s legs, meowing expectantly. He chuckled and crouched down to rub Alpine’s ears.

“Hey there buddy, did you miss me?”

Alpine meowed, almost as if to say yes. Bucky smiled and picked up the cat before standing up. He made his way to his bedroom and let Alpine jump down onto the bed once they were close enough. His boots were kicked off haphazardly at the foot of the bed before he climbed into bed. Alpine came and curled up under one of his arms, purring slightly as he did. A sigh left him as he mindlessly pet the cat and adjusted his position until he was comfortable.

Bucky’s thoughts turned back to you almost immediately. His heart ached as he began to relive the night he knew he had fallen in love with you. How he wished he could go back in time and experience it all over again.

“So, Stark is holding a fundraiser in about three weeks. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?” Bucky asked.

The smile on your face made his heart flutter. “Of course! What’s the dress code?” you asked. “I’m not sure if I have anything fancy enough to wear to a Stark gala.”

“It’s a 1920s theme. I’m not entirely sure what he means by that though, considering I was barely old enough to remember the first half of the decade.”

A teasing smile broke out across your face as he spoke. “So what you're telling me is the oldest man in the room somehow still isn’t old enough to remember the roaring twenties? Tsk tsk,” Your teasing tone made him laugh and lean over to kiss you.

“I’ll have you know young lady -” he paused to place kisses all over your face “- this is a completely unacceptable thing to say. Don’t you know you should respect your elders?” You continued to giggle as he continued to kiss you.

                                        ***

On the day of the gala, you were whisked away early in the day by Natasha. She claimed the whole day was needed to properly prepare, which left Bucky standing there rolling his eyes. But when you finally stepped out of the elevator into the lobby of the compound, Bucky felt his heart stop. You looked ethereal. The flapper style dress you were wearing fit you perfectly, your hair was elegantly framing your face, and your lips were painted the most perfect shade of red he had ever seen. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire night.

By the end of the night, the champagne finally had gone to your head and you were desperate to leave. You grabbed his hand giggling, rushing as quickly as you could out of the reserved plaza. You stumbled a few times over the uneven cobblestones, so he kept a hand on your waist just in case.

“Bucky, I need to find somewhere to sit down. I need to take off my heels.” you giggled as you spoke, making his heart flutter for the millionth time that night. Without a word, he picked you up bridal style and slowly spun around as he searched for somewhere you could sit.

His eyes landed on a large fountain a short distance away and he began walking towards it. You settled comfortably into his arms, with one hand sneaking under his tux jacket and gripping gently onto his shirt just over his heart. Bucky wondered if you could tell it was about ready to beat out of his chest as he leaned slightly to set you down on the fountain’s edge. He had hardly sat down next to you before your heels were kicked off. It was amazing how much more relaxed you looked just from doing that.

He was so focused on how beautiful you looked he almost didn’t hear you giggle or realize what you were about to do. His jaw dropped slightly as you stood in front of him in the fountain, dress pulled up slightly as you waded in.

Bucky’s eyes never left you as you walked around, letting out the cutest laughs with each stream of water that you walked under. When you arrived back at where he was sitting and his whole world stopped as you bent forward to press your sweet lips against his. Your hands found their way to his hair as his made their way to your hips. With every ounce of his being, he wished his hands could make their home. They belonged there, allowing him to hold you so tightly against him it was almost impossible to tell where his body stopped and yours began.

It startled him when you pulled away suddenly, but the confusion didn’t last long as he was met with a handful of water and mischievous laughter. The splashing was relentless. You refused to stop despite him begging for you to quit it. He rushed to remove his shoes and socks so he could jump into the fountain with you. The excited squeal that left your mouth as you started rushing through the water trying to escape him made him grin. He was going to catch you and you knew it. That didn’t stop you from trying to delay the inevitable though. You tried to hide behind the fountain's centerpiece and to fake which direction you were going to run. When you decided to leave the safety of the centerpiece, he had you back in his arms facing him within seconds.

As he watched your face, the overwhelming urge to confess the extent of his feelings filled his chest. He loved you. He had known for weeks now, but staring at your beautiful face reaffirmed it so deeply in his soul that it felt like an integral part of who he was now. Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but the words failed him. Instead, he leaned forward and he channeled everything he had into a kiss. He wanted this to be the kind of kiss written about in fairytales; one that leaves audiences tearing up over and longing for. He hoped you felt everything he didn’t have the courage to say tonight and the small voice in his head hoped you felt the same.

He felt you smile into the kiss, making his heart swell. He pulled away gently after a moment, staying close enough to press kisses across your face. You had told him once how special you felt when he did it; now he couldn't stop doing it. He needed you to know how special you were to him, how loved you were in his arms. When he was satisfied, he rested his forehead against yours. An idea struck him and he smiled at you, “Would you like to dance?”

You nodded and he began to lead you in a slow dance throughout the fountain. He had never felt more grateful for the dancing experience he gained in his youth and that it was a skill he somehow kept throughout the years of brainwashing and torture. The feeling of your body against his calmed his mind and kept his focus from wandering back to the past. The only thing he wanted to think about right now was how beautiful you were and how lucky he was to have you.

After a few minutes of him leading you aimlessly around the fountain, you pulled away gently and looked up at him with a smile. “We should make a wish.”

His face twisted with confusion. “A wish?”

You smiled as you nodded at him, “You know, toss some coins into the fountain and make a wish as we do.”

Bucky laughed as he thought about how much like a fairytale this night was turning into. Apparently his kiss had done the trick. “I don’t think this is a wishing-well. Although -” he chuckled again, “-I hardly think they meant for anyone to dance around in it either, so why not.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your hand and fished around in his pocket until he found his wallet. He’d never felt more relieved to see pennies in his life as he pulled out the only two coins he had. He pressed one into your hand as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “It looks like we only get one wish each tonight, so we’d better make it a good one.”

He watched as you stared down at the penny, wondering what wish you were going to make. Your face was serious as you thought but broke out into the most beautiful smile. You stood there, coin pressed to your lips, before tossing it out into the fountain. You stared up at him expectantly, waiting for him to make his wish.

He didn’t need to stop and think about his wish. He knew what his wish was from the day he met you. Following your motions, he pressed the penny to his lips and wished, ‘I wish for a life filled with more wonderful nights like this, with this beautiful woman in my arms’. He tossed the coin in and his hand found its way back into yours.

Without a word, he pulled you back in close to him and resumed leading you around the fountain. After a few moments of peaceful silence, he spoke.

“What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true,” you said, voice teasing as you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “And let me tell you, I really want this wish to come true.”

“Me too honey, me too.”

As the memory faded, Bucky couldn’t help but let the tears that had been building fall. That night had been so wonderful. You deserve someone who could give you nothing but nights like that, not the heartache he put you through. He closed his eyes and whispered to no one but himself, “You could’ve been the one. You should’ve been the one...”

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 33

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.1k

; Warnings: Discussion of car accident, brief sexual content mention, depiction of a PTSD/panic attack

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is a bit earlier than usual but I want to get it out while it was done and I was feeling okay about it...work and job rejections have been hitting ol’ self-confidence hard so writing is a bit tougher than normal. I’ve gone through this for grammar but I haven’t properly proof read. I hope you all enjoy this though and please send me comments and feedback so I know what you think! I love to read them and it helps to boost me :)

; Flower Masterpost

-

Straightening up, you winced before rubbing at the small of your back before stretching. It was summer, which meant the sun was shining strongly. As much as you like the sun, you weren’t so much of a fan when you knelt in the grass for hours on end. The sunhat on your head helped a little, as did the sunglasses but your skin was shiny with the veneer of sweat.

You were hot, and with a deep sigh, you wiped across your forehead with your arm. The thick gardening gloves on your hands were covered in dirt and compost, keeping your hands clean but also making them incredibly warm. As much as you enjoyed gardening, it felt like a chore in the heat of a summer’s day.

But at least you had some company for your misery today. Your mom was knelt next to you, leaning forward and diligently weeding her beloved flowers. Hoseok and you had come over for the day, intending to feast yourselves on your dad’s famous pot roast before heading home with a bag full of leftovers that would be eaten at work.

Watching your mom closely for a moment, you felt a surge of warmth and love for her. You never really noticed how much older she looked now; the lines on her face that were deepening and the greys in her hair that were multiplying more than you liked. It was easy to miss the passage of time on your parents when you weren’t paying attention too closely, but now that you stopped and looked at her closely you could see it.

You hoped she was happy with how her life had turned out. Even if it wasn’t the best, that’s all you wanted for your parents. To be happy and proud of you.

“So, what’s your plan for your yard? Are you going to get that porch built that you wanted? I wouldn’t bother trying to do any of your gardens and flowers at the moment. Unless you’re planning on planting flowers that will bloom in autumn and winter. Though there are some pretty ones. I’ll have a look online for you and find the best ones if you want? Maybe we can get your garden looking all nice together, a little mother-daughter bonding time.” Smiling at her, you nod your head slowly.

“Sounds good. Though we haven’t bought it yet. Officially. I mean, they’ve accepted our offer but now it’s all that legal stuff, you know? So I don’t feel too comfortable changing anything just yet, just in case anything goes wrong.” There’s a slight hesitance to your tone. So small that you don’t even realise it’s there, but your mom recognises it.

Sitting up, she stretches as well before shifting until she’s sitting cross-legged and facing you. There’s a wince on her face from overused joints that are ageing but she doesn’t complain, instead just looking at you intently.

“What’s wrong? I can tell there’s something. Is there something wrong with the house or anything like that?” It’s amazing how easily she picks up on things like but she did raise you. Cleaned you up when you were younger and you fell over, taught you everything you know and helped to make sure you grew to be the best version of yourself.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with the house. Or with Hoseok, before you ask. It’s just...I feel a little stressed. Or worried rather worried that’s better. More accurate. It’s just...a house, you know? It’s a big purchase, really expensive and it’s permanent. If anything happens with Hoseok and me then we have to go through the whole process of selling it and splitting the proceeds. And then we have to move out and I wouldn’t have a home anymore and-” The gentle pressure of your mom’s hand on your arm causes you to pause.

She has a gentle smile on her face and an understanding expression which soothes whatever frayed nerves you have. This is probably one of the few times you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about this issue with Hoseok, being too worried he might take offence or something. But your mom understood.

“Sometimes...I think you get way too caught up in your thoughts. I want you to consider something, okay? Yes, it might all fall apart and it might not work out. But what if it does work out? What if everything is perfect and you get a nice house? And then Hoseok proposes and you get married. Then in fifty years, you can be telling your grandchildren all about meeting their grandad and falling in love in your lovely home.” Snorting slightly, you can’t help but roll your eyes slightly as your lips quirk.

“We’re not having kids, remember?” She makes an expression indicating she’s remembering what you’d told her. Your parents hadn’t been surprised to find out Hoseok didn’t want kids either. If anything, they’d been pleased because they knew how much you wanted to remain childfree.

“Yes, yes, but you know what I mean. Sometimes you just have to go with it. Enjoy your life in the moment sweetheart, you’ve spent far too long focusing on the negative aspects of life in my opinion. Just...take the time to enjoy the fact that you’re able to buy a house with the man you love and who loves you back. I can’t predict the future or anything but...I think you’re both going to be happy. So just focus on that, okay? You’ve got a nice little house to work on together, two cars, a cute cat, a good job and a great relationship. Focus on the positives.” Letting go of your arm, she took your hand before squeezing in reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly before shifting and reaching out to carry on gardening. You know that your mom is right, but it’s still a worry that buzzes in your stomach continuously. That something will go wrong and you’ll have no home along with no Hoseok.

The very thought of not having Hoseok in your life anymore makes your breath stutter, lungs freezing until you’re pressing a hand against your chest to try and coax them back to life. One of the reasons you’d been so nervous about getting into a serious relationship had been because you were terrified of falling in love only to have it all stolen from you.

It still scared you, the idea that one day you might wake up alone and that you’d never see or talk to him again. But that was just because you loved him so much that the very idea of not being with him anymore hurt. You wondered if Hoseok felt the same, deep emotions that you did.

“I know...I know. I can’t help it, you know? I’m trying, I promise. Hoseok’s finally convinced me to give therapy a try. The antidepressants are working well but I still have moments, you know? I don’t feel entirely settled and this whole house thing is getting me a little stressed. Not because of the house itself but...just everything it symbolises. So I’ve got an appointment for one next month, the earliest I could get.” Shrugging, you smile at her before digging back into the soil to make a hole for the flowers your mom had bought.

“Good, I’m glad. I hope it works. My advice to you is to just take everything a day at a time, okay? It’ll all work out for you.” There’s a quiet reassurance in her words and you can’t help but relax, knowing that for now at least you can just enjoy yourself without any negative thoughts.

A loud groan leaves her as she stretches once more, a loud crack emanating from her back as her bones move and you wince slightly. Reaching over, you rub at her back soothingly and laugh as she lets out a deep sigh before thanking you.

“Okay, finish that flower off and then we’ll head inside. My back is killing me and I just want to sit down for a bit.” Nodding at her, you let her go before finishing off the flowerbed and packing up all the gardening stuff into the small shed your dad had built last year. 

Hands grasping at your waist cause you to shriek in surprise, spinning around and getting ready to push at the intruder. The sight of your boyfriend, his expression full of mischief, causes you to relax to the point your eyes are rolling.

“Hoseok! God, I thought you were some rando.” Hissing, you push lightly at his stomach and pout. A tiny bit of an over-reaction but if you couldn’t be dramatic with Hoseok then who could you be? He knew you weren’t truly bothered by his playfulness, especially when you leaned into his body a little.

“Bit weird for a rando to be in your parent’s backyard,” His arms slide around you, hugging you tightly and practically moulding your back to his front. “But no, it’s just your loveable weirdo.”

Snorting, you continue to carefully put away everything into their specified areas. Your mom liked things to look neat and tidy at all times now, which meant you were having to find where everything belonged. Otherwise, you’d get a phone call that would result in you being berated for leaving the shed messy.

“Is the door finished then?” Hoseok had volunteered to help your dad repaint the front door and start varnishing the porch steps. That had been around three hours ago, so you could only assume that not only were they finished but that he was probably famished. You’d discovered he seemed to have that stereotypical guy’s stomach in that it was a black hole which would eat anything and everything.

Burrowing his face into your neck, he hums in acknowledgement. Closing the drawer, you twist around until you can slip your arms around him in turn. Unlike the normal smell you’d come to adore, today he smelled of the overwhelmingly strong chemicals in the polish he’d used. It didn’t smell great and you wrinkled your nose, unhappy at the fact it wasn’t what you were used to but unwilling to move away from him.

“Thank you, for helping him. He’s been wanting that porch done for years now but his knees are so bad.” None of that is new information to Hoseok and you suspected that was why he’d volunteered to do it. To the point that he’d even headed out with your dad to the local DIY store to grab everything that they would need.

The look of happiness on your dad’s face when he’d realised that he was finally going to get one of his jobs finished had made you almost want to cry with emotion. You hadn’t though, but you were giving Hoseok a tight hug to convey your gratitude to him for being a good person. The quick kiss was just an afterthought, but he’d earned that too.

Wandering hands tell you that he’s more frisky than you’d thought he would be after the work he’d been doing, and it’s only when he squeezes a good handful of your ass that you pull away with laughter. While you still weren’t a big fan of your ass, it was still a little too big for your insecurities, Hoseok was very much a fan.

What some people call ‘an ass man’.

“Hoseok, come on. We have to go in and I am not doing anything with you in my parent’s shed. Plus, you got a blowjob this morning! I need to go help sort the vegetables out for dinner an-” Warm lips pressed against your own interrupt you, their softness making you give in almost instantly as you just enjoyed him.

Little butterflies were fluttering in your stomach as he just lazily kissed you, no urgency to his movements despite what you’d just said. Still, you didn’t push him away. He still remembered, even after over two years, that you enjoyed just kissing. Catching up on all the times you’d missed out on as a teenager and the intermittent years.

So you were loath to pull away from him; especially when he was doing what you imagined a loved-up teenage couple would do when out of sight of their parents. It was fun. Plus, Hoseok was a great kisser.

Finally, though, he stops and leans back to grin at you. It’s a testament to how much you are attracted to and love him with how strong the urge to drop to your knees for him right then and there. Maybe he could have two blowjobs in one day.

“Okay, we can go in now. Do you need help with the vegetables?” The way he changes the mood so quickly has you almost experiencing whiplash, eyes widening as you watch him turn around and walk out. Bringing a hand palm up, you squint at his back and mouth out ‘what the fuck?’ before following him.

By the time you manage to catch up to him, giving him a slightly sullen look even if you’d been the one to deny anything was going to happen, he’s already entering the house. The air is rich with the scent of slow-cooking pot roast and you sigh in contentment, heading into the kitchen.

“You can help if you want. Hey mom, it’s okay. We’ll do that for you.” Gently, you push her away from the counter and take the peeler from her hand. She looks between you both with a quizzical look, her lips quirked up into a half-smile when Hoseok just starts to wash his hands with no complaints before taking control of the carrots.

Thankfully, she doesn’t say anything except for thanks as she leaves you both to it. You get the strong feeling that she’s bemused he’s helping you without complaint or further prodding. As much as your dad likes to cook on occasion, he usually takes a little bit of convincing to get him to help out.

“Oh hey, there’s stuff to make my mom’s roast potatoes...do you want me to make them?” You don’t see the curious expression on your mom’s face as she tilts her head, watching as Hoseok lifts a bottle of soy sauce and the grinder full of black pepper. Instead, you’re too busy making an excited face at him as you nod eagerly.

“Oh my god, yes! My parents have never had them before. I think it’ll go well too as my dad always likes to put everything in the cupboard in his pot roast…”

-

“You know...you weren’t kidding when you said that there was a high chance that I could end up getting the shits from your dad’s pot roast. That was a spicy ass meal. God, it tasted so damn good though. I’m glad he made so much for us to take back.” Hoseok was sat, or rather slouched, in the passenger seat of your car.

A hand was resting on his stomach, which looked to be holding a significant food baby. Snorting with laughter, you nodded in agreement before grinning as he let his head loll on the backseat. You’d been telling him about your dad’s infamous pot roast for a long time now and he’d finally gotten to experience it. 

On top of that, your parents had been wowed by the roast potatoes Hoseok had made using his mom’s recipe. To the point that your mom had begged him to tell her how to make them, at which he’d made a big show about having to ask his mom for permission.

Somehow, that had all led to her calling his mom to formally ask for it. Even though Hoseok had been joking about it and fully intended to let her know how to make it. An hour after that, when you’d finally left after bidding your dad goodnight and with a bag full of leftover roast in Tupperware, your mom’s were still chattering away to each other.

You didn’t have too much experience with how parents were supposed to interact with each other but you were pretty sure becoming close friends wasn’t too normal. But again, you didn’t have any relevant experience here so maybe it was.

“Have you ever seen Step Brothers?” The question comes out of nowhere but Hoseok’s used to it by now. He doesn’t even look over at you in confusion or amusement, just answers you like you’d asked him what his favourite colour is.

“Yeah, why?”

“I think our moms just did that whole ‘did we become best friends?!’ thing.” Now he’s the one letting out a snort, his smile big enough that you can spot it out of the corner of your eye. He knows exactly what you mean, nodding even though you can’t see him properly.

“I think they did. You know, I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad thing. We’ll never be left alone now, you know that right?” Shrugging, you flex your fingers on the steering wheel and enjoy the texture of the leather beneath your hands. You were already approaching home, the roads quiet in the warm evening sun as everyone probably spent time in their yards.

“I like your mom. And I like my mom...sooo, I don’t see any problem with that.” Given you’re focusing on the road, you don’t notice the droll stare he gives you. Which is probably a good thing, because you’d just poke him if you had seen it.

“Are you kidding? Okay, maybe it’s just me that won’t be left alone then. I’ll never be able to do anything wrong. Whether it’s trivial or something serious.” There’s a serious whine to his voice and a glance over shows you that he’s pouting almost comically, causing you to giggle at his protruding lower lip. He may be a little dirty and sweaty from his day’s work, covered in tattoos and piercings but he just looked adorable.

“Well...I guess you’ll have to be on your best behaviour then, won’t you?”

“Very funny. I tell you, I’m going to hear about everything tiny thi-” He’s cut off by your loud cursing, the words coarse and filled with vitriol as you glare at the asshole who almost hit you. Slamming on the brake, you jerk forward hard as the car stops far quicker than you expected and the seat belt feels almost like it’s choking.

“Fucking hell, these brakes are sharper than I expected.” You exclaim, resting your hands in the perfect driving position on the wheel while letting out a deep breath to calm yourself. Glaring down the road, you note that the other car isn’t even there anymore and you can’t help yourself from flipping the bird in the air.

You were at the last intersection before your street, the opening just ahead of the traffic lights that had been green for you. Which meant that they had been red for whoever that ass was. It hadn’t stopped them from speeding as they ran their red, coming within inches of hitting your side of the car if you hadn’t braked so suddenly.

Shuddering, you crack your neck and wince as you rub at it, hoping you hadn’t caused yourself whiplash. Setting off again, you scowl before realising you were hearing a weird noise. Frowning deeply, you look over the display to see if any warning lights have come on before realising it’s coming from your side.

It takes one look to realise Hoseok is very much not okay. 

He’s paler than you’ve ever seen and that immediately startles you, but what’s even more worrying is the way he’s got a death grip on the door handle and his seat cushion. You have to look away from him sooner than you would have liked given you were still driving, turning into the street with the house in sight now but you could hear him.

And you weren’t sure that you’d ever heard something so...haunting.

It was like he couldn’t breathe properly; his chest constricted or something while pained noises were being dragged out of his throat. You don’t even realise that you’ve sped up, subconsciously trying to get home and park so that you can help your boyfriend with whatever’s going on.

He’s still making those horrible sounds and breathing like he’s run a marathon when you pull into the drive, putting the parking brake on and turning the engine off before turning to him. Reaching out a hand slowly, it’s only when you can feel his bicep that you realise he’s trembling. No, not trembling. He’s shaking almost violently despite his death grip on the car.

“Hobi...Hoseok. Baby, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” You didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t understand what was happening. Why was he acting like this? Like he’d just seen a ghost or something.

And then it clicks in your head. The intersection, the idiot who almost hit you, the way you’d slammed on the brakes and cursed a storm. For you, it had just been an annoyance and a near miss. But Hoseok had been in a situation like that when he was a child, and it hadn’t been a near miss.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Fuck,” Muttering, you look around the car as you wonder how to break him out of whatever attack he’s suffering. “It’s okay, Hoseok. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, you’re okay. I promise.” 

As you try to find something to jar him out of his memories, you talk to him constantly. It’s utter nonsense what you’re saying but you want to make sure he can hear someone he loves, reassures him that he’s not alone. Glancing over to him, you swallow thickly at how panicked and frightened he looks.

Pulling out the tube of hard peppermints that had been living in your bag for probably two years at this point, you thrust them into his nose. It’s probably a dumb thing to do but something you’d learnt since your panic attack had been that a good way to get people out of the looping fear was something unexpected.

The strong scent of the hard-pressed mints was probably hard to miss given you jammed it against his nose a little too hard. There was white powder left, which wouldn’t look too great if anyone happened to see him, but you didn’t care. It worked.

Yanking his head back suddenly, Hoseok took a deep breath that sounded more painful than you like before looking at you with wide eyes. Letting the mints drop to the floor, you shift until you can reach and cup his face in your hands.

He feels cold yet the apples of his cheeks are so hot, his breath still faster than you liked but there’s coherence in his gaze. The Hoseok you know and love is back, no longer trapped in the memory of an eight-year-old. Guilt overwhelms you as you realise that you’d probably caused this.

“Hobi…” Is all you manage to get out before you’re stopped once more. Only this time, it’s by the way his face crumples and his eyes glisten as tears bank in them. It makes your chest tighten painfully to see him hurting; especially given how he so clearly tries not to let himself fall over the edge.

It’s only when your thumbs gently stroke at the skin of his cheeks, soft yet ever so slightly prickly from his evening shadow that was beginning to make itself known, that he cracks. The tears slowly slide down his face, each one shining in the evening light while his lips wobble as he tries to keep them pressed together.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re okay, we’re okay.” You’re pretty positive that you’ve never seen anything more heartbreaking than watching Hoseok slowly break down. The rock in your turbulent emotions and mind, eroding as the dark currents of his mind hit at his weak points.

He just stares at you for a moment before he’s grasping at the door handle, breathing heavily before almost throwing himself out of the car. For a moment, you just stared out of the open door, watching as Hoseok practically scrambles for the porch of your house. It takes a few seconds for your brain to finally catch up, propelling you out of the car to follow him.

Crouching down, you reach out slowly to see if he’d be okay with you touching him. He’s sat down, the faded white paint on the old porch looking chipped and dirty as he rests a hand on it. When he doesn’t push you away, you carefully sit down next to him and rub his back in slow, soothing movements.

You can feel the muscles there shaking, his limbs still trembling slightly from the traumatic memory he’d probably had. Not a word has passed from his lips, only heavy breathing that he’s slowly managing to regulate once more and worry fills you.

“Hoseok...it’s okay. You’re okay,” Shuffling a little closer, you move your hand up to stroke the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m okay, you’re okay. We’re home. Nothing bad happened. I’m sorry for triggering bad memories.”

Hoseok shakes his head suddenly, the movement fierce and firm. Eyes widening, you let out a small ‘eep’ as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly. This gesture is much different from his earlier embrace in your parent’s shed. There’s a little more urgency to this, the way his hands run along you isn’t sensual but more like he’s reassuring himself that you’re real.

That you are okay.

“You’re not hurt, you’re okay. Right? No pain, n-no injuries? You’re okay?” His voice quivers, breaking halfway through his words and your heart contracts at the sight of the fear in his eyes. The tears are still falling down his face, almost like he doesn’t realise and you gently cup his cheeks once more, wiping away at them.

This time, he seems to recognise your touch fully and leans into it, pressing his forehead against yours as a choked sob sounds from his throat. Cooing to him, you rearrange him until his head is buried in the space between your neck and shoulder, his larger frame seeming so small as you wrap your arms around him protectively.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I swear. Nothing happened. That asshole ran the red light but I braked quick enough. I was just angry at him, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...to do this. I’m so sorry.” Now it’s your turn for your voice to crack, emotions tumbling together at seeing him so afraid and upset.

“S’not you. It wasn’t you,” He mumbles against your hoodie, squeezing you a little tighter. “It was...it was just the sound and the feeling. The brakes screeching, the cursing, being thrown forward. It was...I was back there. Then, back then. It was just so similar. The intersection and it all just...I guess my mind just got lost in it. It was like I was reliving that moment in my head; both here and back then. I could hear you but I could hear my parents, my sister. I couldn’t figure out what was real.”

You didn’t have any experience with this, with any of it and you didn’t know what to do. From your limited experience of watching shows and movies, you guessed he’d had some kind of flashback to his childhood accident. The sounds and movements of the incident throwing him back decades into that traumatic moment. You felt stupid that you’d never even considered he could still have some form of PTSD it.

At least, you assumed that’s what it was. 

“You’re here. Here with me and we’re okay. I don’t...I gotta be honest baby, I don’t want to say. Or do. What do you need from me?” You hated having to ask that, putting the onus on him to figure out what you should be doing to help him. But you had no idea, you’d never dealt with this. You couldn’t even manage your panic attacks, nevermind one caused by a flashback.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t stress about it. You got me out of my head, that was good. Quick thinking,” Pulling away from you, he laces his fingers together before lowering his head till it’s between his knees and just breathes slowly. “Fuck, I’ve not had one of those in a long time.”

“You’ve had them before?”

There’s silence for a few minutes as he just breathes slowly, his eyes closed as he forces himself to relax. Twisting his lips, he rolls his head and the crack of his neck is loud in the quietness of the street. You don’t push him, letting him take his time to get to terms with what had just happened.

It was a good thing because you weren’t entirely sure what you were meant to do.

“Yeah. I used to get them when I was a kid. It took months for my parents to convince me to get in a car after it happened. Certain things would just...trigger a panic attack or a flashback like then. I can’t listen to the song that was on the radio at the time and...well as you’ve just seen, a sequence of events like that sets me off. A lot of my behaviour when I was younger, was a result of the PTSD from the accident. I thought I’d pretty much got past having these incidents as it’s been forever since I’ve had one.” Wiping at his face, he looks away from you and down towards the end of the road.

Wiggling over to him, you lean against him supportively before carefully taking his hand and linking your fingers. He lets you, his hand mostly limp except the slightest tremble of his fingers. Running the fingers of your free hand along the back of his, you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t be angry or upset or anything, you can’t help it. I know very well that we can’t control what our brains do. It probably thinks it’s trying to protect you somehow but...you got through it pretty quickly. You’re okay and you’re here, talking to me rationally pretty quickly. Maybe you had this because you weren’t driving, right? So you weren’t able to do anything about it. When you’re driving, your mind is usually focused on something else.” Part of you recognises that you’re just rambling crap to him but you want to keep him listening. Make sure that he doesn’t fall back into his mind.

Turning to look at you, Hoseok gives you a weak smile and you feel pain in your chest at how tired and sad he looks suddenly. All signs of your happy and boisterous boyfriend have vanished for the moment. You’ve never felt more useless.

“Yeah, probably. You’re probably right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin-” Cutting him off with a sharp gesture, you gently poke at his arm before smiling.

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t apologise for something you can’t control. You tell me this all the time, so now I get to tell you. It’s okay to not be okay, remember? All I care about is that you’re okay, that you’re not hurting or scared. That’s it. I don’t care that it happened, I only care about you.” His eyes look a little watery again at that, his smile weak yet a little happier than before.

“I know it’s early but...can we just go to bed? Just nap or something? I’m so tired. From working on the porch earlier and from this, I just want to cuddle you and sleep.” Tilting your head, you scan over him slowly and sigh softly.

Hoseok looks tired, his shoulders slumping and back slouching from the weight of everything. It’s the least you can do for him, especially if that’s all he wants. So you nod, smiling at him before squeezing his hand.

“Sure. You go head in, I’ll grab the stuff and put it away then come up.” Standing, you head over to the car to grab everything your parents had given you to bring home. The sound of Hoseok’s keys jangling together as he opens the door is familiar, as is the door closing to prevent Kasumi from getting out. A glance back tells you that he’s inside and you let your head drop, hands resting on the cushion of the backseat as you take a deep breath.

Taking the time to just inhale and exhale slowly, you tell yourself to relax as well. Just as you’d told him that he was okay and safe, you had to acknowledge the same for you now as well. Seeing Hoseok like that was scary and you would be happy if you never saw anything like that again. It hurt to see him afraid, to see him cry and struggle with himself. Was this what it was like for him when you were experiencing a bad mental health day?

Shaking your head, you blow the air out of your cheeks before looking up at the sky. The colours are starting to become more extravagant and vibrant, the blue deepening into purples, pinks and oranges as the sun sets. It’s still warm out but there’s a pleasant breeze that cools you, blowing gently through the grass and the branches of the trees that line the road.

It all looks so peaceful and calm, so unlike what you’d been experiencing not even ten minutes ago. Swallowing, you grabbed the bags and pulled them out, closing the door and locking the car before heading inside.

His shoes are alongside the others but there’s no sign of him downstairs. No noise coming from the bedroom either and you look up the stairs with a concerned expression. You didn’t know what to do, what was right to do. So all you could do was what he asked.

Quickly putting away the leftover food and baked goods your mom had given you, you head upstairs to the bedroom. The curtains are already closed, leaving the room darker than in the hallway and a glance at the clothes hamper lets you guess he’s probably gotten into some comfy pyjamas.

The shape underneath the covers doesn’t move, but you smile at seeing Kasumi laid alongside him with wide and unblinking eyes. Quickly pulling your clothes off, you get into a fresh pair of pyjamas as well before heading over to the bed, placing your phone on the bedside table.

“Hey, pretty girl. Are you looking after daddy?” Whispering, you slide into bed and stroke at her soft fur. Hoseok’s eyes shine slightly in the dim light, the covers pulled up to his chin in an almost protective way as he watches you shower love onto Kasumi.

Turning your attention to him, you take him in for a moment with a soft smile. Gravity makes his cheeks softer and rounder while lying down, his lips pouting a little more than normal while his hair half flops onto the pillow. He looks adorable, yet there’s still that vulnerability in his eyes.

“Do you want to be the little spoon?” You ask, grinning when he nods quietly. It takes no time for you to shuffle forward, meeting him in the middle of the bed and wrapping your arms around him. He nuzzles his head into the space below your chin, his arms trapped between both your bodies while you throw your leg over him as well.

Grinning to yourself despite the serious situation earlier, you can’t help but find some peace and happiness at this moment. To know that he loved you enough to feel safe in your embrace like this, to feel protected and not silly. You were smaller than him, yet you knew that you would keep him as safe as you possibly could.

Reaching up, you alternate between running the strands of his hair through your fingers and massaging his scalp in the way he likes. A quiet rumble of appreciation leaves him at the feeling, his body relaxing in your arms. It would never fail to amuse you how easily you could get him to sleep just by playing with his hair. And you wanted him to sleep right now, to have good and pleasant dreams to rid himself of the anxiety and panic from earlier.

Pressing your lips to his head, you sigh quietly and tell him something that you rarely vocalise. Normally it’s hard to get the words out, but today they flow easily and you can practically feel the way he relaxes even further. 

“I love you.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567. 

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you. 

_____________________________________ 

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life. 

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities. 

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face. 

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed. 

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt. 

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again. 

You wouldn’t stay.

[vanmccannonlyfans]

Cocoon

part i.

But in hell, there was relief in the utter helplessness. Here, your actions had both consequences for yourself, and others. You weren’t sure which was worse.

“How do you have so many of these?!”

Alicia had 10s of boxes of tests in her suitcase, as if they were hotel shampoo bottles or restaurant breath mints. The pink floral branding stuck out against the sea of black leather and denim that comprised her wardrobe.

“Get em in bulk on amazon, cheaper that way and saves me a trip to the store.” As if bulk buying pregnancy tests was as casual as ordering toothpaste or tampons.

You moved to the bathroom to take the test, stepping over used towels strewn across the floor. You were glad you were doing this in a place so impersonal, however uncomfortable. Whatever the outcome, good or bad, you would be able to leave without any memories tainting the space, never to return and have to relive the feeling. If this was your bathroom at home, you’d be reminded every time you had to go.

Alicia camped in front of the mirror, smacking her lips together after every layer of strawberry gloss, the wand alternating between tracing her plump lips and pumping the tube for more product. Leaning against the fake granite hotel counter, she fussed with her raven black bangs and adjusted her top.

“Is it ready yet?” She asked, without averting her eyes from their own contact, her lips now more reflective than the mirror.

“I can’t look..” The room was twisting more than your stomach as you picked up the test, double vision making it impossible to count the number of lines.

Was there just one? Two? How dark does the second one have to be?

“Does this look positive to you?”

Alicia cocked her head at the test, brow furrowed.

“The second line is faint...but it’s there.”

“Fuck,” You exhaled as you fell against the wall, exasperated.

“Didn’t you always want to be parents?”

“Well yes, but...not so soon. We don’t even have a place to live...”

Life on the road was hollow and lonely, even with your best friends. Playing shows every night to strangers who saw you as enigmas, then returning to cold hotel rooms to sleep until the having to get back on the bus or plane for the next event, repeat ad infinitum until you had crossed off a laundry list of places you had stepped foot in but not actually experienced. It all seemed so fun and exciting until you realized that you didn’t know anyone anywhere and were too tired to do things even on days off, and ended up just sleeping the day away and ordering in pizza. It wasn’t a viable situation for raising a child, and hardly sustainable for an otherwise healthy adult.

-

You laid on the scratchy quilted comforter, each tick of the clock intensifying your anxiety, like a bomb about to detonate. Every second brought you closer to confronting a situation that felt neither fully real nor fantasy. Like your whole world depended on what he would think.

The beep of the key card brought you back down to earth from the peaks of your existential dread. You couldn’t wait to be held, comforted, told it was going to be alright, even if neither of you had any idea what to do. His touch was a balm to your aching soul, one that no antidepressant could rival.

Van entered without a word.

“Baby?” You called to him, as if he couldn’t see you.

He remained silent, dropping his guitar case on the ground. After what felt like eons, he looked up toward the window behind you, as if you were invisible.

“I think you should go.” His eyes were sallow, skin dehydrated from all the smokes and shitty fast food and beers every night.

“What?” The single word came out like a croak, your voice evading you. First you couldn’t be seen, now you could hardly be heard, as if you were dissolving from material reality. As if only his acknowledgement made you real. “Van--”

“No,” He cut you off, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, the other on his hip, swiveling him towards the wall. His adams apple rose and fell without a word, bobbing like a buoy on a choppy sea.

“I don’t want to fight about this. I just want you to leave.” He looked down, running a hand through his hair before tucking it under his armpit as if he were chilled.

You were in disbelief. The same man who had invited you to accompany him across the world was discarding you as easily as you had tossed the test that said you were carrying his child into the bin.

“But Van--”

“JUST GO!” He belted, shaking the room with his volume. You had never heard him yell like that, hardly had ever seen him genuinely angry.

You struggled to catch your breath, hot tears erupting from your eyes.

“--I’m pregnant.”

There was a loud crack as Van’s phone hit the wall, leaving a mark.

“STOP LYING!” He thundered, grabbing your shoulders.

He was finally looking into your eyes. His were red and glassy and you could smell the last cigarette on his skin, so much so that you found yourself on the floor throwing up, then running to your suitcase like a wounded animal, then in the brass elevator, then out the lobby and into the street. You weren’t sure where you were going or how you would get there, just that you wanted to be gone.

When your legs finally collapsed from exhaustion, you found yourself out of breath in front of a bodega, simultaneously sweating and shivering from the physical and emotional trauma. You went in to buy a bottle of water and drank it in greedy gulps while scrolling on your phone to take your mind off of your predicament. At the top of your inbox was a flight confirmation, forwarded from the band’s manager. It was a plane ticket back home.

-

The sterile, unfriendly design of airports had always thrilled you. They were an exciting gateway to a new place in the wide world you hadn’t explored much of. You had never even been on a plane before Van had toured outside of the UK. The complete lack of rules and disregard for conventional social norms enchanted you; how strange a place to have bars open at 6am next to designer shops and restaurants more expensive than you had ever eaten in. Van would order bailey’s in your coffee while he had a morning beer, before sneaking tipsy kisses in cheap seats at 42,000 feet.

Now the airport felt like a portal to hell, sucking you back to the place you had escaped from.

You hadn’t told anyone you were coming home, or that you had broken up, or...anything. You hadn’t spoken a word to anyone besides the cab driver who asked which terminal to drop you off at. You weren’t sure who you would tell first, what you would say. If you opened your mouth, nothing would come out. Except maybe some incoherent stuttering and word salad, which fit how you felt inside--both numb and acerbic, cold to the touch but teeming with a pain so primal and acrid it could kill a horse. The water in your stomach felt like it was curdling, and you hoped you could make it through the flight without throwing up.

-

The cab dropped you off on the corner of your parent’s property where the guest house loomed, hardly visible through the gloaming. You fumbled with the key, hoping it hadn’t been changed since the last time. The door rattled open to dusty furniture and soupy air; musty and untouched as if it had been abandoned. You and Van used to sneak in here in for quickies and hold clandestine parties, lighting candles instead of turning on lights to not tip off your parents that you were present. The stain from when someone dropped a bottle of whiskey still marred the floorboards, and you wondered if anyone had been in here since you left.

You had hardly surveilled the place before the door snapped open behind you.

“Fuck, you scared me!” It was your brother, shaking the dew from his trainers. “Why are you back? I thought you would be gone until next year, at least.” You sucked in the thick air, scanning the room for alibis. Stretching the last few moments before you had the acknowledge that you now walked the earth all by yourself.

“Oh, you know. Just felt homesick.”

Your brother respected your lie, letting it dissipate in the stale air like the smoke from a snuffed wick.

“I never liked him, anyway”

-

Your parents were happy, albeit a bit startled, to see you. They had converted your room to an office and all of your old things from high school, like notes from Van and old chemistry notebooks, were collecting dust in the attic. It was good to have the guest house to yourself, to be miserable in peace without the lingering tension of having to acknowledge the reason for your return, or to have anyone ask why you were throwing up so much and sleeping for 14 hours at a time.

Your dreams were so deep and lifelike that you had trouble discerning reality from fiction in your own memory; your nightmares even worse. Once you dreamt that Van had come into the guest house bedroom with a cup of tea asking how you’d slept, how his baby was doing. When your eyes had burst open, you were cold and alone. Anguish gripped your stomach, forcing it’s contents up your throat then down onto the floor.

Other times the dreams were of him fucking you.  Most nights it was just replays of your breakup, repeating every time you fell back asleep after being jerked awake from the sheer horror of that moment, worse than any organic monster ridden nightmare you had ever had. Each iteration more fresh than the last, as if someone was rewinding it over and over again on a cassette tape, starting at a high pitched blur then ending only when you could feel his hot breath ghost across your face.

Some days you woke up so paralyzed by your grief you wondered if you were in hell. Each moment was unbearably painful and eternal, the mere act of breathing felt sisyphean. But in hell, there was relief in the utter helplessness. Here, your actions had both consequences for yourself, and others. You weren’t sure which was worse.

-

The clinic was on the outskirts of town, far enough away you weren’t likely to run into anyone unless they were there for the same reason. The ultrasound tech didn’t make eye contact a single time, snapping her gum as she dispensed the chilly ultrasound gel in a single deft shake.

Your chest tightened when you heard the heartbeat for the first time, eyes prickling with tears. The rhythmic thump, thump, thump ticking through the monitor flooded your heart with a profound sense of relief.

Finally, something that was yours.

-

Tour stretched on, every night sold out. Press junkets, radio shows, interviews, and photoshoots were plastered all over social media, news papers, television, even the bus station adverts and shop bathroom posters. You quickly learned not to check your phone outside of calls and avoided the media. It was easy when you hardly had the energy to lift your head in the first place. Isolation was easier than breathing, and a lot less painful.

You had learned the hard way when you had tried reading the paper each day. You could leaf through mindlessly, until page 6 which always featured a half page spread of Van and a nameless girl, all uniquely the same. They always took similar form, as if made in a factory by formula: tight jeans and low cut blouses, cakefaced and bottle blonde; each one skinner, prettier, and younger than the last. Some looked like they had school the next day. You stopped reading the paper.

-

When you told your family you were pregnant, your mother cried--whether out of shock or happiness, you weren’t sure. Your brother punched a hole in the wall, then went outside to smoke. Your father just sighed--a long, deep sigh that validated his disappointment in your circumstances and choices.  His reaction was the most heartbreaking.

Unlike your mother’s reaction, you knew unequivocally that his was one of disappointment.  You were supposed to go to uni, maybe Oxbridge or a fancy American school or even elsewhere in Europe where you could learn a new language and lounge on picnic blankets in the sun with a bottle of wine and fancy cheese while mulling over your Literature seminar readings. You were supposed to be interesting and clever and successful and far away from here. Instead you were back where you had started, some wash up’s discards, nothing to show for it except a new dependent on your taxes.

Your brother followed you back to the guest house, determined to argue as ever. He was a man of few words until he was upset, and then every word cut like broken glass.

“Are you sure you want to keep it? It isn’t too late for you to finish up and go to uni.”

You had almost forgotten that you basically dropped out to follow Van on tour.

You had told your family that it would just be a couple stops, then you never came home. Until now.

-

One day your mother phoned in a rage after receiving a letter from the school that you had been expelled on the grounds of truancy. You remembered you told her you were turning in your work remotely—an obvious, bold faced lie.

Your relationship with Van had changed you from a studious rule follower to a fool, lucky in love, dropping out of high school to accompany someone else building their dream. Loving Van was like climbing a tree, higher and higher with no thought of how you would get down. But now you were flat on your ass, with another between your legs.

Your personality change had sparked concern in your friends in family, allegeding that you were “not that type of girl” to abandon everything for a man.

“I’m not really sure what type of girl I am,” was your only response.

After all,how could you know who you were meant to be when you were so young? Being with Van, being Van’s, was fun and exciting in a way you had never experienced. You’d never really dated, and didn’t have a lot of friends outside your brother’s friends, which was how you met Van. He was always nearby, goofing around and causing trouble.

Your earliest memories of Van were of riding bikes through town, collapsing in the cool grass when your legs turned to jelly and you could hardly peddle anymore. Van would blow dandelion seeds in your face while you giggled and rolled away from him. All of the hours spent under the gushing lemony sunshine ended in grass stained knees and freckled cheeks that lingered long after the popsicle drippings had been washed from your fingers.

That was the beginning--the familiarity; the quintessential bedrock of love that matures as you do, which each outgrown shoe and lost tooth. The type of childlike innocence entwined with companionship that warms your stomach just to think of, having had such a pure memory to call your own; an endless syrupy summer’s day that no one can take away from you.

-

As you grew and changed from girls and boys to women and men, your love morphed right along with it. There were many long stretches of time you hadn’t seen him at all, either from busyness with school or a row with your brother. But whenever you saw him again, that warmth returned right back to you, starting in your stomach and burning up to your sternum, bright and effervescent.

Your relationship mutated from platonic to romantic one night at a house party. Alcohol was still a novelty to you and two bottles of beer was your limit. You and Van were sitting together on a couch, the dim room filled with your other friends, illuminated only by fairy lights and the occasional flicker of a lighter. Van was telling ridiculous stories all while gesticulating wildly, each one making you laugh harder than the last. The combination of the alcohol and throwing your head back with laughter so many times had made you feel like you were on a rollercoaster, vertiginous and bubbly.

As if you hadn’t had enough, you got up to get another drink and fell back down onto the couch--except you missed your original spot by several inches and landed squarely on Van’s lap. You laughed out loud at your clumsiness. If you were sober you would have been so embarrassed! But your lowered inhibitions helped you see the humor in the situation. The room was aglow and the world was still big; the energy of youth electrifying the room.

Van instinctively placed a hand on the small of your back to steady you, and quickly jerked it up towards your shoulders as to not make you feel uncomfortable. A twinge of excitement seared in your stomach. You had never really touched before, and this felt nice in the most unexpected of ways--as if you had found something you didn’t know you were looking for.

You studied Van’s face, having never been so close to it. The perfect slope of his nose, the confetti of reddish freckles across high cheekbones, the pink pillowy lips that outfitted his wide mouth.

He must have been staring at your lips, too, because they clashed together as if drawn by magnet. There was no saying who kissed who as your heads met, puckering together needily. You wrapped your hand arms around him, leaning into his warm body so that your heads were resting on the couch, lips married together. His mouth tasted sweet like fairy floss, the room spinning like a carousel. You weren’t sure how long you made out for, but it felt like you were alone in the room full of people, coiled in the sweetest embrace that made time stand still. When you finally came up for air Van was grinning like he knew something you didn’t, gingerly tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I hope your brother didn’t see that,” he joked, making you blush.

You didn’t remember much of how the rest of the night went or how you ended up in your own bed the next morning, but the mere thought of having kissed Van so publicly both thrilled and mortified you. Surely people would talk--or were they all too drunk to notice? Did this mean he fancied you, or was it alcohol fueled happenstance?

At school the next week you heard his voice echoing in the halls, and turned to see him hanging on another girl while fraternizing with a group students the same year as Van and your brother. He tickled and teased her before hugging her from behind, then kissing her cheek with fervor. White hot shame flared inside you, ruddying your cheeks. You hurried home in a daze, scolding yourself for being so naive. He was a flirt and you were a fucking idiot for allowing yourself to be involved with someone like that--your brother’s friend, no less.

But the next weekend the same booze soaked gathering reoccurred, this time with more warm bodies packed into a smaller room. You sipped from a can while exchanging small talk with a girl from your chemistry class, wondering if you should leave or have another drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Van had arrived with the same girl from earlier, making a scene as he greeted his friends.

You decided to have another drink.

Cracking open a fresh can, you turned away hoping Van wouldn’t notice you. You smiled and nodded while your classmate blathered on, not registering a single word she said, unable to concentrate on anything other the imaginary tension in your head. The slick condensation beading on the aluminum can was your only anchor to reality as your body flushed from the discomfiture as much as the humidity. Though you hated to admit it, you wanted to be the girl next to him. Instead you slurped more beer, hoping to reach a level of inebriation where someone else started looking better.

Eventually the heat of the room became too suffocating to bear, and you excused yourself for a smoke. The noise of the party was barely a low thrum from the cement patio, despite being eight feet away. You sat on the very edge of the pavement, stretching your legs out into the dewy grass. The damp chill grounded you, your heart rate descending as you exhaled into the ether. The stars scrambled against the inky sky, floating in and out of focus as your nerves melted away with each crisp breeze. You were more drunk than you thought, but it felt nice out here where you weren’t being choked by calefaction and confronted with Van with the other girl.

The first drag of your cigarette was interrupted by a body shuffling next to yours, thumping down beside you on the cement.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here by yourself?” It was Van.

You scanned over the back of your shoulder to see if the girl was around you. She was not.

“I’m alright,” you sighed, tapping the ash from your cigarette onto the curb.

Van wrapped his arms around his crossed legs, shaking his hair out. From under his fringe, his eyes searching your face for clues to decode your expression.

You exhaled the smoke so at least there would be something between you to shield you from his intent gaze. The chirp of crickets in the distance filled the silence. Snuffing the butt out on the cement, you got up to leave without a word. Van grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

His expression nearly broke you, wide eyes begging for an explanation, confused as it was hurt. Letting out a deep sigh, you weighed your options: stay with him and exchange meaningless platitudes or leave. Leaving seemed like the better choice.

“I’m going home.”

Van sprang up. “You shouldn’t go alone this time of night after drinking. I’ll walk you home.”

Secretly, you loved the initiative he was taking. He wasn’t asking, he was announcing. This type of attention and caretaking were foreign to you, even as the kid sister and tagalong. No one ever fussed over you. Even though Van was known for being sweet to everyone, you were pleased as punch he was fussing over you.

Dark was the night as you trudged home, guided only by the flaxen incandescence of streetlamps and drunken intuition. For a long time neither of you spoke, reveling in the quietude of the sleepy town in the dead of night.

Van broke the silence. “So how’ve you been?”

“Same as it ever was,” you sighed, still uncomfortable with the hidden motive of his small talk. “Is your girlfriend gonna be upset that you’re walking me home?” Van laughed to himself, even though it wasn’t a joke. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Only partially did those words alleviate the tension that had been badgering you all night. The alcohol poisoning your bloodstream was making you bold.

“So you just kiss all your friends like that,” You kicked a bottle down the road. Van’s head jerked up, turning towards you.

“Let me kiss you not as a friend then.” You stopped dead in your tracks. Of course he could be bolder than you. For the second time that night, you looked into his eyes and saw he was serious. You could feel yourself freezing in place like a deer in the headlights, but your bodies were being pulled together as if magnetized. Van grabbed your face as your lips married; exchanging greedy, hungry kisses. His arm migrated around your lower back, pulling you into him, subsuming your bodies as one. You kissed as if you couldn’t breath without the other’s air, desperate and smacking.

Even when your lips finally parted, your figures remained cocooned together. Your noses brushed at the tip, studying each other’s faces. Never had you seen Van so still and ruminative before. He brushed his thumb across your cheek before imparting a final kiss.

“How’s that for not friends?”

-

Soon Van was coming to your house to see you more than your brother and their friends. He would meet you in the hallway to exchange forbidden kisses, risking demerits and suspensions. Now instead of lurking on the outskirts at parties you were right next to him, the center of attention, with his arm wrapped around you.

You could tell your brother wasn’t comfortable with your arrangement, but he never said anything discouraging. You had never smiled so much in your life, and people sometimes didn’t recognize you next to him. You drank more and wore less. School began to feel like a prison, entrapping you 8 hours a day when you’d rather spend time with your sweetheart. Even in subjects you loved, you couldn’t focus. You tried to study while the band practiced, but you’d always get distracted by how cute Van was and his never ending questions about their creative direction. You started helping manage their shows, calling venues and arranging transport and making sure every piece was in its place.

Soon you were helping out so much that you were hardly home and rarely saw your other friends. As the band became more successful, you would occasionally skip school to accompany them to far off gigs and events, reveling both in the rebelliousness of playing hooky and the sheer delight of watching your favorite person achieve their dreams.

-

One of your favorite teachers had warned you against following Van, confronting you during office hours when you had dropped in to ask about an assignment.  There was genuine concern in his expression, as if you were his own child that was making a stupid mistake.

“I shouldn’t be saying any of this, but you really should rethink your decision to leave. You could go to a great school and study whatever you wanted. You’re brilliant and clever and could charm the most stoic of souls. There are plenty of people in the world like Ryan, who will want to harness your energy to use for themselves. Don’t let them.”

You had thought he was just jealous, or perhaps had a tiny crush on you. You smiled at your past naivety. He was right. Your brother agreed.

“He picked you because you were hardworking and clever and too sweet to realize he was taking advantage of you! You were the best girl at that school and he fucking knew it. None of the girls like Alice or Nia would have lasted longer than a second with him! They would have crumbled from not being the center of attention, nor do they have a brain cell to show for it. He wanted someone to support him and do all of the hard work while he took credit for all of the glory. I mean, he didn’t even arrange you as a manager or assistant like Larry so you could get paid by the touring company!”

You hated when your brother was right, because it was a gut punch every time. He was a man of few words, but those choice words stung.  You had organized much of the band’s earlier endeavors, like communication with agents and venues and examining contracts for faulty clauses and loopholes. The band was hardworking and talented, but still too hungry for success to make good judgements on their offerings. Without you, they surely would have fallen prey to a lecherous label under a contract that would have destroyed them.

“I know it wasn’t malicious, because he can’t pull his head out of his ass to think about anyone else. He surely knows you could achieve more without him, the thought just never occurred to him because it’s his world and the rest of us just live in it. And now you’re having his child in the town he abandoned while he’s living out his rockstar fantasies. Did he ever even call you to make sure you made it home, and the plane didn’t fucking explode with his unborn child on it? Does he even fucking know your pregnant? Does he even care?”

You turned away so that your brother wouldn’t see the hot tears in springing from your eyes.

“You can go now,” you mewed, hoping he would take the hint.

“If he sets foot in this town again, I’m going to fucking kill him.”

It was a promise.

-