#They were a huge comfort when I had some of the worst health issues of my life

[dissembledthyme]

I wanna draw these guys a bit more often, though I'm extremely out of practice, so it looks wonky as hell LMAO Give me time, I'll get back into the groove of it eventually, for now, take mid art

My stupid moron and his big emo boyfriend

[faithinus]

Quality Time

Joe Quinn x Reader 🤍

Summary: Reader is long distance with Joe while he is working on a big project. He becomes more distant over time and reader is growing tired of the communication issues. Angst ensues. 

Disclaimers: Some arguing, suggested alcohol misuse, discussions of mental health, and classic relationship hurt. Also some fluffy domestic!boyfriend!Joe simply because I wanted to :))))

Word count: 3.6K

__________________________________________

“That place had the best carbonara in the city no doubt.” You made a mental note to move the aforementioned restaurant to the top of your list of rustic Italian favorites. 

“I can barely move now. I can’t believe we finished all those courses.” Joe clutched his stomach with one hand and threw his head back dramatically.

 Hand in hand with Joe, you strolled around the block. Walks after dinner were so peaceful. You and Joe were the kind of couple that didn’t have to say much. The feeling of intertwined fingers. The sound of two pairs of shoes clicking on the sidewalk. It was more than enough. 

You and Joe had made a habit of trying a new restaurant every week or so. It was fun to be tourists in your own city and keep a running list of the best dishes. You relished finding a hole in the wall, those that were yet to be overhyped by internet reviews. The hidden gems could still be claimed as your little secret. 

With Joe’s newfound fame, it was hard to get away from the media sometimes. You loved seeing his face on TV, social media, and god he looked good in print, but you enjoyed him most sitting right in front of you. Undivided attention was the love language of your relationship. Date night was a golden opportunity to turn your phones on silent and just forget about the masses. Not having to cook or clean up made the night feel luxurious. Something about a corner booth allowed you shut out the rest of the world. 

Your steps fell into a rhythm and you looked up at the sky. Too many city lights drowned out the stars. The only notable shape was a waning moon.

“We should go somewhere in the country,” you whispered. “I wish we could see the stars.”

Joe hummed in agreement.

“I wonder which constellations there are this time of year.” You tilted your head and squint your eyes, but it was no help.

Joe didn’t answer. While you were busy looking at the moon, he was lost looking at you.

__________________________________________

“One more day” you sighed. 

Joe left to film a new project tomorrow and there was a certain heaviness in the air. It’s conflicting to feel proud and unhappy at the same time. This movie was a huge win for Joe’s career, but also a stressful undertaking. In two years, you had never been away from him for more than a month at a time. That was about to change. 

You sat on top of the kitchen counter, legs hanging over the edge. Joe stood steady, feet planted next to you on the granite. He reached up to the ceiling to unscrew the main light fixture. Household appliances never failed to break at the worst times. You were disappointed but not surprised that your final hours together were spent doing last minute projects around the house. 

“I know, darling. As soon as we finish this we can do anything you want... hold this please.” He passed a light bulb down to you. 

As much as you didn’t like having to do chores on your last day together, there was something comforting about it. It was so domestic. You loved being a homeowner with Joe. You got to take care of something and make it your own. Even if everything went wrong, you were a team.

“It’s okay, Joe. I kinda like this.”

He looked down at you, eyebrows raised like you had just said something untoward. “What do you mean you like this? Our light keeps flickering like a haunted mansion.” 

“No, I just like your company. Besides, you look hot when you work,” you said matter-of-factly. 

“Is that right?”

It was. When you were sitting at Joe’s feet, you had an entirely new view of him. Based on the way his chest moved, you could tell that his breath slowed when he was focused. His jaw tensed in concentration. Joe’s hands looked stupidly angelic toying with the glass fixture. When he lifted his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt raised just enough above his hips. How alluring.

Joe’s hand reached down to you, palm open, signaling for you to hand the light bulb back to him. 

You started to pass it to him but paused with your hand halfway to his. “You should tell photographers what a great angle this is for you,” you teased.

Joe rolled his eyes and laughed softly. “If all you are going to do is sit there and ogle at me, does that make me your sexy electrician?”

“Only if I can be your sexy assistant.”

“Deal.” 

__________________________________________

Five weeks had passed since Joe left. You were at the halfway mark and already completely over the long-distance setup. Being alone isn’t inherently lonely. Independence can be freeing, but there is a difference between independence and separation. 

Joe is the kind of person that makes you feel both his presence and his absence.

There was no one to welcome you home from work. You almost made the mistake of announcing your presence as you walked through the front door. By the time you opened your mouth, you remembered no one was going to respond. When you sat down to watch TV, the couch felt alarmingly empty. Suddenly, you regretted turning down Joe’s request for a pet. 

No one played music and waltzed around the kitchen with you. No one snuck up behind you and set their chin on your shoulder while you heated oil in the saucepan. Pouring a glass of wine alone felt more like medicating than celebrating. 

In an effort to cheer yourself up, you took a group of friends out to a restaurant you tried with Joe. Turns out five star carbonara tastes different in the company of different people.

At first, Joe was adjusting seamlessly to long distance communication. He acted the same as he would if he was only gone for a week or two. You two were texting throughout the day and speaking on video calls every night. The third week on set got really busy, but Joe still talked to you before bed without fail. Seeing his face, even through a screen, was reassurance that everything was going to be fine. 

At the end of the first month, contact became more sporadic. Joe didn’t pick up when you called one night. The only plausible explanation was that he running a little late, so you waited patiently for his reply. You smiled thinking of how apologetic he would be when he finally got home. Another two hours passed. StiIl, you gave Joe the benefit of the doubt. He was working so hard and you couldn’t blame him for conditions out of his control. Surely he would shoot you a text any minute now, telling you how wild his day had been. 

Your notifications stayed painfully dry as time passed. You fell asleep with your phone still resting in your palm. 

Vibrations against the mattress are what woke you the next morning. Still bundled up between the sheets, you picked up. A black screen was staring back at you instead of what you hoped would be another pair of sleepy eyes.

“Joe, I can’t see you.”  

“Sorry love, we are rushing to grab breakfast! Don’t want to give you motion sickness!” he chuckled and closed a car door on the other end.

Joe’s use of the word we elicited immediate disappointment. The lack of privacy made you feel less free to speak. You shifted uncomfortably, moving away from the sight of the phone camera. Maybe no one else was watching, but you didn’t want to risk it. Laying in bed with deep bags under your eyes wasn’t the ideal way to meet Joe’s co stars for the first time. 

The calls went on like that for a few days. He was always running out the door, pastry halfway in his mouth, spewing apologies on the way. A handful of cast and crew were in the background. You never spoke longer than the length of a car ride.

Joe kept calling with his camera off.

This week you couldn’t get ahold of him, despite your best efforts. Every time you called you received the same answers:

Long hours on set tonight. Miss you Xx

Early call time tomorrow! Sorry love! 

Hair and makeup needs me at 4:00am... Mornings aren’t gonna work this week

You laid in bed staring at the messages. Your eyes watered from the blue light burning your eyes. That or you just wanted a really good excuse to tear up. The most recent sent text mocked you:

Got a minute to chat?

And below it, [text read thirty minutes ago].

__________________________________________

You didn’t see the photos until the next day when you were sat on your lunch break. Each one looked harmless on its own, but there were SO many. You paused with a fork lifted halfway to your mouth, shocked at the length of the Twitter thread you were reading. 

In light of the lack of direct communication, you had secretly hoped that searching Joe’s name on socials would give you a glimpse of what he was up to. However, you didn’t expect Twitter to serve you an explanation for Joe’s absence on a silver platter. It was too easy. 

The posts started out as photos of Joe entering a bar of some kind. They were a bit blurry from being taken by a passerby across the street. Yet, they were definitely of him. The white dress shirt and chocolate brown slacks from the photo were a simple, signature lineup that you loved on Joe. It was no surprise that he packed them.

Most of the people surrounding Joe were recognizable as other members of the cast. The photo descriptions made it clear that the intent wasn’t even to capture Joe. He was collateral damage of the media frenzy. The account owner gained a large following for being a fan of his female co star. The tall, stylish brunette was the focus of most shots. A few frames later, Joe stepped outside with her for a smoke. 

As you kept scrolling, the inconsistencies between photos became more apparent. For starters, Joe was wearing at least six different shirts. You swiped back forth to compare the different posts. The familiar woman was wearing a ruched skirt in one image, a pair of black pants in another, and a tan jumpsuit in the next. This was either an event that required many outfit changes, or these were taken across several nights. 

The setting transitioned back and forth between the same bar or outside of a flat. Joe was featured punching in an entry code to a gate, clutching a long paper bag in his other hand. 

It’s not that Joe isn’t allowed to drink. He’s a legal adult by a landslide, but sheesh, what happened to the early call times and late nights?

You scrolled through the photos until you could piece together a decent enough timeline. What a shame social media was telling you more about your partner’s whereabouts than your partner himself. You opened the images from last night again and swiped to the end.

Unlike the rest of the photos, there was one set taken from inside of the bar. The quality was noticeably distorted from the dim lighting. The owner must have held their phone at an odd angle to conceal their spywork. Joe had his arm around the familiar co star. One hand was on her opposite shoulder and the other held a shot glass. 

Even in still photos, you caught on to Joe’s posture. There was a certain way he stood when he was incredibly drunk and trying to play it off. She was in heels, yet looked small next to him. You missed that feeling and longed from him to envelope you. Although, maybe now it was the floor that you wished would swallow you whole. 

As you swiped, the images showed the progression of Joe leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The very last photo zoomed in on the woman, head thrown back in laughter.

Nope. 

You shut your phone and tossed it onto the table. You weren’t going to allow your mind to go there. You took any suspicious, intrusive thoughts and shoved them to the far back of your brain. 

Let’s examine the facts. Anybody that knows Joe knows what a professional he is. Any interaction between cast members HAD to be strictly friendly. 

Just an ounce of self reflection confirmed that foul play between co stars was out of the question. However, just because Joe wasn’t a cheater didn’t mean you weren’t being neglected. 

How many times over the past few weeks did he send you a work related excuse and then head out to socialize? 

It was so unlike him to ignore you, but it was even more out of character to lie to you.

You reached out and unlocked the phone again. Your fingers flipped back and forth between apps, eyes darting to compare text messages to the dates on tweets. The frantic behavior was emulating crazy girlfriend energy and you knew it, but you trusted your intuition more than anything else. 

The photos of Joe carrying liquor into the apartment building jumped out. They were taken last Friday around eleven. 

You double checked the only message you received from Joe that day:

Long hours on set tonight. Miss you Xx

sent: 10:35pm

________________________________________

We need to talk. Please call as soon as you can.

It was the first text you fired off after you left work. 

You typed and deleted about five different paragraphs but settled on two sentences. Not calling Joe right away took an immense amount of self control. However, a) if this week had been any sign, there was no chance he would pick up during work hours, and b) leaving him a voicemail of accusations risked saying something you didn’t mean. 

Joe must of sensed your urgency, because your phone was ringing by the time you reached your car. 

“Hi love. I need to run in a few minutes. Is something wrong?” The term of endearment that was normally so comforting now sounded out of place.

Joe’s phone was lying face up. All you could see was a beige ceiling and an aura of light. He fumbled with objects on the other side of the room. You shut the drivers side door and paused, debating on whether it was a good idea to have this conversation while sitting in a parking lot. 

“Yes, Joe.” You spoke slowly, trying not to to get ahead of yourself. “I need to see your face. I don’t want you to lie to me anymore.” Something inside of you hoped that once Joe looked you in the eyes, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

The rummaging stopped. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Sit down and look at me.”

Footsteps drew closer to the microphone, and static cracked as Joe grabbed the phone from his bed. His face came in to view, mouth slightly open, brows furrowed in shock. You were never this short with him.

Joe sank down to the floor, back against a wall. “What is going on? You’re scaring me.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I know why you’ve been ignoring me. I also know how this sounds,” you said hesitantly. “But I’ve seen the photos of you online. You visit the same bar over and over. You were at the same flat nearly every night this week.”

“Are you tracking my every move?” he accused. “You know I’m nearly 30 years old and can handle myself-”

“You said you were at work,” you cut him off. “That’s the problem, Joe. You told me you had late nights filming or needed to go to bed for early call times. When in reality, you care more about your social life than me right now.”

“I can explain-”

“Let me finish. You are allowed to socialize, but you aren’t allowed to lie to me about it. Why are you avoiding me?”

“It’s not a lie. I-”

“Don’t feed me that shit. If you are going to deny it, then I am done. Do whatever you want, but do it without me,” you hissed. The sudden burst of emotion surprised yourself and your face went hot. 

“Listen to me for one second!” Joe’s voice cracking in the speaker caught you off guard. You couldn’t recall any other time he has raised his voice at you. He brought a hand up to his forehead and through his hair. Joe had a habit of doing that to self-sooth.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t tell you the truth, because I just didn’t want to burden you with it. Okay? You just have to trust me.”

“You don’t want to burden me with your drinking habits?” you scoffed. You and Joe told each other everything. Him dodging your questions was so out of line with his usual transparency. It worked you up into a rage. 

You were met with a long, heavy silence on the other end. You raised your eyebrows and gestured for him to continue. 

No response.

“Fine, don’t talk,” you shrugged. “But I can’t let this go without a better explanation. You deserve all you have going for you, and for the record, I tried my best to make this work.” 

Even the suggestion of letting this discussion end unresolved felt like a hit to the chest. They were your own words, yet the seriousness of their implications knocked the wind out of you. 

“I can’t believe you won’t trust me!” Joe tossed his hands up in exhaustion. It was clear at this point that you were not going to allow him to sweep this under the rug. 

“I can’t believe you lied!” you hissed in return. “I have been so goddamn lonely because you won’t give me the time of day anymore. Can you imagine how that feels? To have your partner avoid you and deny it? To be given no explanation?” Your voice shook and salt crept down into your mouth. 

All you ever wanted was his honesty, and for the first time ever, he couldn’t give you that. The corners of your mouth shook as you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you. 

Joe’s eyes caught on your wet cheeks. There was a sigh of recognition on the other end of the line. 

“Im sorry... I didn’t mean to make you upset,” his tone softened and he averted his gaze. Joe was never able to watch you cry. 

You suddenly remembered you were still sitting in the parking lot with only your car windows to separate you from the outside world. You rushed to wipe the tears away with your sleeves. 

“This role... it’s so heavy.” Joe looked up at the ceiling like he was searching for the strength to speak. He took in a sharp breath.

“The scenes get extremely dark. I spend so much time getting into the troubled mind of this character, and it makes me feel like a different person.” Joe brought a nervous hand up to his neck.

“I wake up every day and have to act out disturbing things. I got so good at it that I started to feel the pain even when no one was recording. To me, you are a bubble of safety. So, the last thing I wanted to do is bring that nightmarish mentality into our relationship.” His voice was breathless and full of fear at how you might react. 

“Joe... I didn’t realize-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. Instead of telling you, I suppose I turned to vices. You are right. I’ve been drinking more than usual... smoking too, to be fair,” his voice trailed off shamefully. “I know how it looks, but I just wanted a way to escape without weighing you down. Turns out I’ve done a really shit job of coping.” He looked up at you to gauge a reaction. This time it’s his turn to blink back tears, and for what it’s worth, you could tell he was fighting. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly. 

“It’s not.” Joe shook his head slowly. “I should’ve realized how lonely it would make you feel.” The way his voice caught in his throat was so sad that it nearly erased all of your anger. 

“I would’ve understood.” You stared back at him sympathetically. “I want to know how you are feeling. That’s part of my job description in this relationship, you know.” 

Joe looked down at the floor, but you noticed the corners of his lips turn upward ever so slightly. It was the first time during the call that either of you saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Do you atleast have someone that will look after you?” you asked.

Joe swiped at his screen and it paused. His image went blurry. “I’m writing myself two reminders,” he said.  You heard the sound of thumbs tapping.

“For what?”

“First, to reach out to the support staff on set. Second, to call you again tonight.” His words were confident and reassuring. They were full of everything you have been missing over the past few weeks. 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Your shoulders dropped as you exhaled tension you didn’t even realize you were holding in. 

Joe will be gone for a while longer, but somehow it felt like he just returned home. 

[ryuzakemo128]

Padre's Second Home?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Alessia Romano / Thomas Miller x Alessia Romano

Content Warning: Second Home, Second Family business and drama, baby health issues, cheating, affair, jealous Joel?, age gap (Alessia is 30, Joel is 55-56 and Thomas is 50-51.), No Outbreak AU.

Words: 4,140

Masterlist

Credit (Dividers): @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Note: This is from Joel's Perspective. It adds details that go beyond the first part. Enjoy.

Summary: ‘Drag him back if you have to.’ Echoed into my head. Maria. Tommy wouldn’t listen to me, he was always stubborn about getting what he wanted when we were kids. 

Maria sent me down here, reluctantly, I could see why she was reluctant to do so. The town was rumoured to be rough on those who didn’t know how to put their money where their mouth is. It wasn’t huge by any standard, five hundred people, give or take a few. Depending on the people who decided to move into it or out of it. Maria was getting suspicious of Tommy spending weeks there, sometimes a month or two. 

It certainly wasn’t Jackson, far from it, a stark contrast to the quiet, snow-kissed serene landscape Tommy lived in most of the time. It was hot, dusty, the sun blaring down like the endless summers on a desert. Only it had a lush green vibrancy, a tropical desert if there ever was one. A pub on the corner of the street, a general store, a floral shop with more colours I could name from the top of my head.

Maria couldn’t shake the feeling, something was off with Tommy, she had assumed it was because of Joel. But it didn’t line up, the lingering unease gnawing at her. Withdrawing a substantial amounts of cash from one bank, precisely three thousand dollars, all from the same town. Yet she never saw a dime. Ever. She tried talking about it with Tommy. 

She was met with stonewalling, excuses and elaborate lies he never backed up with any clear evidence of what he was doing there. “Joel, I know, I know you and I don’t exactly have the best history when it comes to Tommy. I just need you to reach him, find out what he’s doing, and drag him back if you have to.” She sighed, holding her face in her hands. She didn’t know what to do with herself. 

‘Drag him back if you have to.’ Echoed into my head. Maria. Tommy wouldn’t listen to me, he was always stubborn about getting what he wanted when we were kids. 

Part of me wanted to say, “No. Tommy is a grown man. He can take care of himself.” But in the face of the odd bank transactions. It was far too odd for me to ignore. Something wasn’t right with Tommy. I couldn’t leave Maria to figure it out herself. As much as we didn’t agree with some things, we both agreed that this mess stunk to high heaven. 

“I’m not going to make any promises, I’ll look for him. Just don’t expect me to pull out a miracle from my pants.” I told her, crossing my arms as I walked out to pack my bags to head off tomorrow morning. 

As soon as I got comfortable in the ramshackle hotel, it wasn’t the best, but it was far from the worst I have ever stayed in. It was certainly something, like the rest of this town, an eclectic piece amongst the other mismatched buildings in this town. 

The centrepiece? A waterbed that undulated gently beneath me as I eased my bag onto it. The floral-patterned sheets, reminiscent of a long-forgotten summer, whispered secrets of past lovers and fleeting moments of joy. The black curtains, drawn from the finest bargain-bin fabric of a distant Euro-centric utopia, shrouded the windows, casting the room in a mysterious allure, seemed almost out of place in the heart of this vibrant community.

A small kitchenette with a microwave, a mini fridge with water stored in the door. An espresso coffee machine on the counter beside the microwave, the freeze-dried coffee beside it along with two small white coffee cups and two larger coffee cups in a black matte. Along with a basket of single serving sugar, salt and pepper packets stored in three small ceramic containers. An electric frying pan stored in the cupboard underneath.

Once the bar down the street, with the crimson red neon sign reading, ‘Eclipse Veil’ opened. I spotted a woman with curly auburn hair and deep emerald green eyes talking to Tommy. I frowned, who was this woman? My breath caught in my throat once I saw him kiss her, his hands on either side of his waist, handing over a large white envelope, likely with cash tucked inside of it.

Most likely leaving to head right back to Jackson again. Already spent his four weeks here, off to the wife again, I see? Never mind the fact Maria is already getting suspicious of him. Though getting information from this mystery woman would be easier once he wasn’t around to stick his nose into things. The rumble of Tommy’s car as he pulled away onto the open road, right back to his wife. 

I walked out of the hotel room, locking the door behind me. I went with my gut instinct and entered the bar, and spotted her inside, she was manning the counter, a fresh face covering for the weary matron who had clearly seen a long day. Her vibrant energy contagious, infecting my own energy levels. 

She sauntered over to where I sat at the bar with the grace of a lurking panther. Eyes of a deep emerald green, a mischievous grin planted on her lips. “Well, well, well, I haven’t seen your face before, I would remember a face like yours if I had. What can I get you today?” Her face inches away from mine for a short moment, leaning against the bar, I could have sworn she was going to give me a light peck on my lips at this rate. 

She pulled away from me, a tease, like my brother Tommy possibly would have liked to call her over and over again. Slightly irate, mostly frustrated at how my brother never told me about her. Never mind about the fact that he possibly got her pregnant while he was married to Maria. I found out by accident, when the birth certificate for a different child showed up on Tommy’s doorstep at Jackson while he was down here. I didn’t tell Maria when he saw it. At the time, I had stuffed it away into a crevice away from her. It was the last thing she needed to see then. 

“Who the hell are you?” I spat, I demanded an answer that would make this entire mess make some kind of sense to me.

“An absolute angel in my opinion. Though, I have a feeling you’re not here for that, are you?” She questioned with a playful tilt of her head, hands on either side of her hips. I looked away for a moment. I didn’t particularly pay attention to how she looked at me. She licked her lips under the guise of thinking. Though, if I had any sense, it was more likely because she was thinking about me in a certain way. She poured me a glass of whisky, “On the house pretty boy.” she whispered in a husky tone and winked at me.

Bold. A bold woman. Bolder than I assumed she would have been, no wonder Tommy was hooked on her. Addicted to her, more like. Maria, if only you knew what was down here and why it held your husband captive for days on end. 

The amber liquid in the glass, the ice clinking against the side like a wind chime, tink, tink, tink. The liquid slid down my throat, burning as it went down to my gut. Its familiar warmth spread through my chest. A cold comfort from the blazing heat outside. A temporary relief, a temporary reprieve from the storm brewing within me. The storm of questions, the storm of anger, the storm of betrayal. The storm of wanting to protect Maria, and the storm of wanting to beat the hell out of Tommy.

“So, who are you?” I repeated, my voice rougher than I intended. My eyes boring into hers, demanding answers.

“The name's Alessia,” she purred, her voice low and seductive. A dangerous curve formed on her lips, a challenge, a promise. “And you are?”

“Joel,” I replied, my voice a gruff counterpoint to her smooth purr. The name hung heavy in the air, a weight between us. A weight of unspoken words, of shared secrets, of a connection forged in the crucible of Tommy’s deceit.

“Huh. Didn't take you for a Joel.” She replied.

Her words hung in the air, a challenge. I didn't like it. Not one bit. Something about her was off, a mask she wore so effortlessly, a chameleon changing colours to suit her environment. I took another swig of whisky, the burn a welcome distraction from the churning storm in my gut.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.

“For some reason, I thought you were more of an Andrew or a Eugene. Good name though.” Alessia replied, telling me what she thought it would have been. “You look like you spend more time thinking about what you should say than actually saying it. I know that look because I see it in the mirror in the morning. Grew up with that facial expression.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. How did she know? How could she possibly know that I was always the one to think before I spoke? It was like she was reading my mind, or worse, she knew me better than I knew myself.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse from the whisky and the shock.

Alessia leaned forward, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Relax, big guy,” she said, her voice low and soothing. “I'm just good at reading people. It's a skill, you know. Though, I'm better working with the deceased than the living. But you didn't hear that from me.” Pointing to the doctorate of Forensic Pathology with her full name on it. Alessia Romano. An Italian name for an Italian woman.

“Well, Alessia, I have a feeling we will be seeing more of each other from now on.” My lips formed into a cocky grin on my face.

“Lets see if you even survive the first week here, we can’t have another eager, attentive soul sent to the morgue now, can we?” She hummed a small tune, before continuing on to say, “Don’t get too cocky, you’re just asking for trouble.”

“Do you know Tommy?” Alessia asked me. Curious about why I was glaring at her 'boyfriend'. Did Tommy lie about being married? Knew him? I grew up with the guy. Oh. Oh! Dear. He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t told her who I was. A liar as well as a cheat.

I stared at the photo, my mind racing. Tommy had never mentioned her. Not once. The woman in the photo was beautiful, with a wild spirit in her eyes that mirrored the untamed nature of this place. But there was a sadness lurking beneath the surface, a depth that hinted at a complex life.

“Yeah, I know him,” I finally managed to say, my voice rough. “He's my brother.”

Alessia's eyes widened in surprise. “No shit?” She laughed, a short, sharp sound that cut through the silence. “He never mentioned having a brother.”

“Well, he’s a liar,” I replied, the words bitter on my tongue. “What's your story with him?”

Alessia took a sip of her drink, her gaze distant for a moment. “Long story short, we met here. He was running from something, or someone, I never really knew which. He was a mess, but there was something about him, a spark, you know? Not only that, but he pulled me out of my own little world.”

She paused, her eyes meeting mine. “We were good together, for a while. But then… things changed. He started disappearing for weeks at a time, always with excuses. I got tired of being the woman waiting for him to come back.”

A pang of sympathy shot through me. I knew that feeling all too well. Tommy had always been a wanderer, searching for something he could never quite find.

“So, you're saying he's been lying to you too?” I asked, trying to piece together the puzzle.

“I'm saying he's been lying to both of us,” Alessia replied, her voice firm. “I think he's got some serious issues he needs to sort out.”

Abruptly woken up at three in the morning hearing Alessia’s voice in the Hotel room beside mine, “What do you mean she found out? Tommy. I can’t risk our child’s health like that. She won’t be able to grow up normally, Tommy, how many times do I have to tell you that? No, Tommy, she has epilepsy and zero eyesight, none. If you can’t care for her like she needs it. Then you should stay with your wife. Don’t give me more excuses, I’m not your wife, I am a mistress, a mistress that you lied to just like you lied to your wife. Stay home Tommy. Just stay home.” 

I heard her slam the phone down as the baby continued to cry into the night, I groaned as I hung my legs over the bed. Shoving a top and pants on. I walked out of my hotel room and knocked on her door. 

“Who is it?” She asked. Cautiously. 

“It’s Joel. The guy from the bar. The same guy that told you that Tommy was married.” I hope that was enough to let her know who knocked on her door. “Can I come in?” I asked, my voice low and steady. 

“As long as you’re willing to make coffee.” Alessia replied with a snort, answering the door, the oversized tie-dyed shirt and the hello kitty pyjama pants. The bear shaped slippers. The baby wrapped in a pastel pink blanket. “Sorry about the mess… I would have cleaned up more. But this week was rough from start to finish.”

Job applications on the dinner table for a position, a morgue attendant in the morgue, grim work, but she needed the money, essential for her financial stability. She likely didn’t want to continue to wait around for Tommy to come back again. The thought of relying on Tommy's uncertain return had grown tiresome.

“As much as I like being a bartender, I much prefer working in a morgue, it is far less noisy for starters and I know what I’m supposed to be doing most of the time.” Alessia said from her bedroom as she got changed.

I looked at the job applications she had on the dinner table. I took a closer look at her qualifications. 

A jolt of surprise went through me as I read through them, Harvard University. Tommy’s mistress was far smarter than I gave her credit for. I mean, sure, she showed me the doctorate she hung up in the bar. It was too far for me to take a clear look at it from where I was sitting at the time. Not only that, she got it last year when she was 29 years old. She must be 30 by now. I gulped. Twenty years, give or take, between Tommy and her. Twenty plus years between her and me. 

I looked at her, wet hair from her shower, yoga pants and a shirt that said, “Hang in there” with a cat clinging onto the telephone wire. Oddly fitting for someone who appears to be eternally at the end of her patience. Odd to reconcile with the fact that Tommy, my little brother Tommy, had a mistress who was a Harvard graduate. A woman who was smart enough to know that she was better off without him.

I sat there, stunned. I’d always assumed Alessia was a simple woman, someone Tommy had picked up along the way. But now, she seemed like a world away from the life I knew. A Harvard graduate, a single mother, and a woman who seemed to have her life more together than I did.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to say, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Alessia shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m used to people being surprised. I guess it’s not the image they have of a single mother.”

I nodded. “I suppose not.”

“My godfather encouraged it. Said it was better than living in the mafia for the rest of my life.” Alessia said as if being part of a mafia family wasn’t concerning on its own. She saw the look of total confusion on my face, she clarified further, but I didn’t know whether that made me feel worse or better, “Tommy isn’t in the mafia. Don’t get that twisted. I was.”

“You were in the mafia?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The revelation was so unexpected that it left me speechless. I'd never imagined Alessia, with her gentle demeanour and soft smile, to have been involved in such a dangerous and violent world.

“More like grew up into it.” Alessia answered, “Born in raised in Calabria, Italy. The home for an Italian mafia called The 'Ndrangheta, my parents were in it. My grandparents, so on and so forth. A generational thing if you’re a Romano. Which I am. I also know someday I’ll eventually go back home. Not any time soon, mind you.”

I wanted to ask her if she was ashamed, but I didn’t need to ask her that because I knew for a fact she felt it regardless of whether I asked her or not. I wanted to bring her and her baby back home. Not for Tommy’s sake. No, I wouldn’t do it for him, no matter how much he wanted to keep this a secret. 

My deep wish to have her and her little one with me in a place we could call ours never faded away.

I really wanted to be the loving and reliable dad that her child needed, always there for both of them no matter what.

What I truly aimed for was to give them a life that was safe and sound, where they didn't have to worry about anything bad happening.

More than anything, I dreamed of creating a home that was cosy and steady, where they could feel truly at ease.

I longed to make sure that the baby had everything they needed to grow up happy and healthy, in a place that was full of love and care.

Even though she had history with Tommy, I knew in my heart that it was me who could really make a difference in their lives.

Tommy Miller, If you’re reading this. I am already gone, I have left with our child. As I can’t remain somewhere where I am now. I am clearly not your first choice. Though I have a strange feeling I never was to begin with. We have a child together, we can’t keep living like this, I can’t keep living like I am your dirty little secret to keep in the dark. A dirty secret to have your way with whenever you’re bored. Please, please, for all that is still good in this world. Don’t contact me. If you care about me. Don’t reach out. Don’t contact me ever again. I don’t want to hear any more lies from you. Not now and not ever. Arrivederci and Buonanotte, Alessia Romano.

P.S. Those two words mean Goodbye and Goodnight in Italian. As you don’t speak or read the language, it is only right for me to do this last thing, this last favour for you.

I sighed, putting the note back onto the kitchen counter, I managed to convince her to leave a note. I didn’t say how to leave it, though. It felt more like a last kiss. A last, I’ll see you later. Even though that in of itself was a complete lie. Alessia would be long gone, up to Jackson, by the time he got into his car to go back there. I remained in her old hotel room to drive home the point that she didn’t want to wait for him to make time for her. 

I walked over to the kitchen sink to grab a glass of water to process my feelings further. Tommy would be here soon. Tommy would be here in the mostly empty hotel room while she unpacked in Jackson. The same place I would return to. Right at her side. Though I have a feeling it would be a far messier ‘break-up’ than I had growing up in regard to Tommy. 

I know lashing out at Tommy won’t do anything. It would only make matters worse than they are already. I didn't know what to think of this now, as I heard Tommy in the distance, yelling into the phone to possibly one of her family members most likely her older brother Giovanni, saying things like, “Bring them back to me. I can't afford to lose them like this.” and “What do you mean she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Tommy.” Giovanni reminded him. 

Tommy's voice rose in frustration. “But I need to talk to her. I need to explain everything.”

“You've been explaining everything for years, Tommy. It's time to accept that she's done.”

“No, I can't accept that. I love her. I love Alessia.”

“And she loves you, Tommy. But she loves her child more.”

I managed to get the number of a man named Giovanni Romano from Tommy. It took a little convincing, but I managed to get it. The urge to even shake some into his mind a little. It remained at the back of my mind. Sitting there like a beast waiting to strike at a moment's notice. It shoved the feeling aside as I dialled the number as I sat in my truck. 

The comforting hum of the engine rumbling as the phone rang a few times before it picked up. “Ciao. Giovanni Romano speaking. How can help you?” he said smoothly. Almost like charming personalities just runs in the family. The same kind of smooth charm you would only find in movies like The Godfather and monochrome noir movies.

“It’s Joel. Joel Miller. I was hoping to get an update on Alessia. Just to see if she made it to Jackson alright.” I hoped she got there alright. I knew Giovanni wouldn’t do anything that would risk the safety and health of either Alessia or her baby, Alessandra.

“Yeah. She’s unpacking in the apartment as I speak. She did tell me to say that she missed you, though. I didn’t think she’d like anyone that much. You must have done something to get in her good graces.” Giovanni answered. I felt a wave of relief when I heard the news.

I couldn’t help but smile at Giovanni’s words, I imagined her in a thick parka and walking through the snow muttering Italian curses about how cold it is. “She’s a city girl. She’s used to the warmth of Italy. I’m sure she’ll get used to the cold eventually.”

“She adapts pretty fast to different environments, to be fair.” Giovanni said, his voice softening. “But I'm still worried about her. She's going to need a lot of support.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to help her. I promise.” I said to him. It was for me too. Something that I wanted to hear as well. Strange to have myself say to someone else, though.

“I heard that from Tommy. I felt weird. Odd even. Hearing it from you, I believe it more, I know for a fact she’s going to be taken care of. I don’t have a lingering gut feeling like I did with Tommy. I hope I made some assemblance of sense there.” 

“You're making perfect sense, Giovanni. Tommy's… well, he's not exactly known for his reliability. But I am. I'll be there for Alessia and the baby, no matter what.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I'm glad to hear that. I'm sure Alessia will be, too.”

“I hope so. And thank you for letting me know she's safe.”

“You're welcome. And Joel, one more thing. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to reach out. We're family now.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Giovanni. That means a lot.”

Once I hung up, my phone pinged again, this time a text with a photo captioned, ‘Snug like a bug in a rug.’ The photo of Alessia in a parka, scarf, beanie, and mittens. Along with winter boots. She looked cuter in her winter gear. In addition to Giovanni's caption of, 'Wild Marshmallow escapes to Jackson. She’s a little too excited to be in the snow. She’s like a kid in a candy store. I don’t think she’s ever seen snow before.'

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Escaping the summer heat by camping out in the snowy mountains of Montberry Peaks

When the dead of summer gets to you, just take up to some snowy mountains! But seriously, this summer heat and humidity has not been good for my health. I think my body tends to run hot, and throw in humidity being a trigger for my asthma - not a good combination. On top of not being able to catch my breath, I just have no energy in general. So I gotta do something about that.

And now we’re out in the mountains with Estella and Lumine, enjoying the refreshing cold air and starry, starry nights. It’s not like frigid or anything, more like late fall/early winter kind of temperatures where the air is cool and crisp but you won’t be freezing as long as you have some light layers on.

Of course, I will take any opportunity to show off one of my handknitted cardigans since most of them are best suited for this kind of weather. Although a warm and chunky sweater sounds nice and cozy, I find myself gravitating towards knits that can be worn for most of the year, particularly garments made from a DK weight yarn or lighter, especially cardigans because they’re just so versatile.

I mean, I would love to knit up a big, oversized, chunky, and warm sweater one day - if I ever find the right yarn that screams for a garment like that - but it’s not high up on my list. I seem to be on a cardigan kick right now, which makes sense because it’s summer and the last thing I think most people would want to make is a sweater. Even in a snowy place like this I feel like bringing a fall/winter knit would be out of place.

Besides, I have a project that’s starting to drag after a strong start - a combination of sleeve island and brioche being tedious. I didn’t find it as much of an issue when it’s only a couple sections while cables in between kept things interesting. However, the sleeves are all brioche, so it’s very slow growing. Plus, it’s worked in the round, so I have to pay attention to whether I’m knitting or purling, which took some getting used to.

I’m hoping to power through and finally finish this damn sleeve, which probably won’t take took long now that I’m about 3/4 of the way there. Then I’m not sure if I’ll work the button band just to break things up because I’m not really looking forward to the second sleeve.

This cabled cardigan really is a labor of love. Maybe I was a bit ambitious in making this my first big project with cables, but I just couldn’t resist! Along with cables, it also involves twisted stitches which create this circle chain motif, and the brioche of course. And it was my first time doing a charted pattern, which also took some time for me to learn.

So it was a huge leap out of my comfort zone - in a good way, for the most part. I’m very happy with how even my cables have turned out. The twisted stitches, I clearly messed up in many spots, but after frogging so many times, I just let them be when they became less frequent. Same for the cables I twisted the wrong way. Mistakes are part of the process after all, and most of them aren’t that noticeable compared to the rest of the garment.

Hiking out in Montberry has been pretty chill and the crisp air has done wonders for my lungs. It feels so great to be outdoors and not be out of breath all the time. The heat and humidity back home has gotten so bad that there were times when I had to use my inhaler more than once, which is not good. At least I’m back to normal out here, so it looks like I’m not heading towards an exacerbation, something I definitely want to avoid.

Lumine’s here for similar reasons - humidity really is one of asthma’s worst enemies. She and Estella have another reason to come up here too as they have a friend who just moved to the village nearby. Along with it being a housewarming party, they’re also celebrating an engagement and a finalized adoption. So we spent a couple days in the village for that as well as do some sightseeing.

The newly engaged couple, Nolwenn and Loeva, are quite familiar with the village and mountains by now. Loeva has some relatives who live nearby, which is one of the reasons why they chose to settle down here. They’ve had their eye on this house for almost a year, but it needed a lot of fixing up before they could settle in, so that’s where Estella came in. The house is about 85% complete with all the important stuff like electricity and plumbing all set, while most of the remaining work has more to do with aesthetics and decorating. Sure, there’s still quite a bit to do, but the important thing is getting settled now that almost everything’s up and running.

Loeva introduced us to her cousins Lia, Rivelin, and Dewi, who then gave us some good recommendations on where to explore. She’s close to them because her family would often spend the summer here and they always have a great time. Then when she started bringing Nolwenn over, they immediately took her in as one of the family, so it’s like she’s known them forever when it’s actually about 5 years or so.

Along with Nolwenn, Loeve and her family also took in Nolwenn’s stepsister Clervie with open arms as well. Had she lived, she would be joining them here in Montberry too. However, Nolwenn has successfully won custody of Clervie’s daughter, Solenna after avoiding what could have been a drawn out battle against Clervie’s mother. That whole thing is another reason why Nolwenn’s looking forward to starting a new chapter in her life up in Montberry with Loeve.

Unlike Loeve, Nolwenn was never really that close with her family. Though, she says it’s nothing compared to Clervie and her family. Nolwenn’s mother was married to Clervie’s father for three years - both had been divorced twice by then, and it didn’t really come as a surprise when that marriage fell apart too. The one good thing that came out of it was Nolwenn gaining a sister, someone who really got the short end of the stick in life. She just wishes that she could have done more to help her, but what’s done is done, and rest assured that Solenna won’t grow up in a family where her existence will be seen as nothing but an unwanted burden.

For whatever reason, some people are just born unlucky. Clervie was one of them, abused by her mother and basically ignored by her father. Her sister, on the other hand, was spoiled by them, and so her relationship with her sister was strained. Clervie’s mother actually questioned Nolwenn and her mother’s motives just because they never belittled or talked down Clervie, which baffled both of them.

I can’t imagine having such a low opinion of someone, much less your own kid, to the point where you automatically assume there’s some sort of conspiracy going on when something even remotely positive happens to them. Clervie’s mother sounds like the kind of person who gets a kick out of cutting someone down else because they like to be in complete control. People like that should never be parents.

Clervie planned to leave home and move in with Nolwenn as soon as she turned 18, but her sister thwarted her plans by outing her to her mother. For reasons unknown to Nolwenn and Loeve, the youngest stepsister never liked them - the latter saw her as a spoiled brat who was well on her way to becoming like her mother. Both of them blame Nolwenn for turning Clervie into a wretched sinner, which is another way of saying that they’re homophobic bigots.

And so the mother did the worst thing imaginable to Clervie as punishment for being a sad excuse of a daughter. That fucking bitch had one of her coworkers rape Clervie, resulting in her getting pregnant. Then she forced Clervie to carry the pregnancy to term despite her objections, even after complications arose that were serious enough to endanger her life. Not to mention that Clervie didn’t want to bring someone into this world who she’ll probably grow to resent like her mother did with her - that reason alone is more than justified.

Things were so bad that Nolwenn and Loeva had to contact her in secret after Clervie’s mother and sister harassed them whenever they tried to intervene. It wasn’t until Lumine got Tony involved when Nolwenn was able to take legal action to ensure Clervie’s safety, only to be locked in horns with her ex-stepmother’s lawyers. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, Clervie went into premature labor and died from complications while Solenna was barely hanging on.

Even now, Clervie’s mother shows no remorse for her daughter’s death, calling it the will of God and some other bullshit to justify why a lot of things went wrong. But the reality is that things couldn’t have worked out better for her. She used her lawyers to drag things out, knowing full well that her daughter would suffer from inadequate medical care in the process. In other words, Clervie probably would’ve had a better chance of surviving of her mother hadn’t literally kept her under lock and key.

Of course, Nolwenn and Loeve are still fucking angry about what happened, but they’re not gonna let that anger take over their lives. They have Solenna now, who they cherish. Just as Clervie wished, they will raise her to be a strong and capable person who knows that she’s loved and respected by her family, something that she was wrongfully denied by her mother and sister.

Nolwenn said that despite her resentment, Clervie would never stoop so low to take her anger out on someone solely for existing, which is why she speculated that when Clervie foresaw her death, she simply accepted it like it was an act of mercy. So she had Lumine sort out her final affairs as she knew that her mother will turn Solenna’s custody into another drawn out legal battle. Just as she was certain of her own death, Clervie knew that Solenna was going to survive, and so ensuring her future to Nolwenn and Loeve was way of telling her daughter that despite the circumstances, her mother had loved her.

And like Clervie had predicted, her mother only suddenly started taking an interest in Solenna when it was clear that she was going to pull through. If custody was awarded to her grandmother, Solenna would be abused and exploited by her, and maybe grow to resent her mother for allowing such a fate to fall on her. Abuse in a family is a vicious cycle, and there’s no doubt that it would continue to fester had Clervie’s mother got her way.

As far as Nolwenn knows, Clervie’s mother and sister are still playing the victims to draw sympathy regarding her death - absolutely no morals or compassion between them. They can make up whatever lies they want for all she cares - as long as they’re not involved in Solenna’s life whatsoever, it doesn’t matter. Nolwenn, Loeve, Lia, Rivelin, and Dewi aren’t related to her by blood, but they’re more of a family to her than her grandparents and aunt will ever be.

Rivelin served as our main tour guide during our stay in the village, which kinda reminds me of Honeycloud, except a bit more homey, like out in the countryside where everyone’s kinda like a big family in a good way. There’s a lot of street food vendors run by families who lived here for generations, including Loeve’s.

Lia has taken over the family business when her parents decided to go into semi-retirement earlier this year, a soba stand that was originally started by their grandmother around 50 years ago. She and her brothers have been helping out in the kitchen for as long as they can remember and Louve eventually joined in too when she was old enough. For now it’s just the family, though they’re in the process of hiring some temporary part time workers, which is a common practice here. They serve a variety of hot and cold dishes, all original family recipes that you can’t get anywhere else!

So food was the main highlight of our stay in the village and we got to try a lot of good things. At times like these I find it a shame that we only have one stomach. Along with the food, we also learned a bit about some of the vendors, most which have a long history. A lot of the popular vendors are run by elderly couples who have been working for pretty much their whole lives. Although most of them are able to hire help or pass the baton to the next generation so they can have more time to themselves, a lot of them don’t want to fully retire because then they’d have nothing to do. Not only they enjoy what they do, but it gives them the opportunity to socialize since most of their customers are regulars - many they grew up with!

Then out in the wilderness it’s a lot more quiet and still, which is just as nice. Like I said, the heat humidity has not been good to us, so the cool and refreshing air was exactly what we needed. Exploring the mountain peaks in the daylight and stargazing at night, it really doesn’t get better than this.

Read on AO3

[dex-starr]

So talking about this issue with my therapist and some friends

has not helped for shit lmao. Long story short my relationship fell apart for these reasons: things I did made my ex feel unwanted and unattractive -- even though I was trying to do what she needed me to do in terms of words of affirmation as much as possible. But it was mostly for her appearance and I can only say so much I'm timid sometimes (understatement). The other thing here is I did a very stupid thing too in terms of just what I liked on twitter mindlessly (turns out ADHD scrolling is a fucking huge thing for me) but it was a soft spot for her because she was always sending me posts from subreddits about bad boyfriends and their social media browsing habits especially secretive ones that would try and cheat or like questionable things. Ultimately for that I decided the best thing for us was to apologize and to reassure her the most that I could that she was the one for me -- and completely delete twitter for the health of our relationship since I could just browse reddit since she moved onto there from here and that's how we met. The thing was I did this stupidly and it wasn't clicking in my head because she saw me just reblog whatever and my twitter wasn't hidden from her -- but it was definitely a different time in the shift of the cosplay culture and what not too. Still, that is completely my fault and I take responsibility for it but I know I changed and improved a lot and thought about it because really I care about this girl and I would do anything to make sure she's comfortable. I know why my social media habits are the way they are and it's something I'm working on for everything I pick up doing in terms of distracting my brain just to get dopamine going. It's difficult though and I wasn't diagnosed or even on meds -- I just had a suspicion at this point that hey you're depressed and maybe have adhd. Getting checked is probably a good idea but -- nah I'm scared of the stigma and scared of finding out I'm even worse off. (I am worse off).

The other factor is I was too socially inept in saying what I felt about her as often as it came across my mind. I did that at the start but some things that happened made me not want to run the risk of saying something that goes awry again -- this is something we should've talked more about because it wasn't that I didn't think she was the best thing ever. But I felt like I would be say something stupid and she would hate it for completely fucking illogical reasons. I mean we both flew across the country to see each other at this point. We were planning to move-in together cross country somehow. But my brain would always think the worst because before her I have always received that kind of treatment even if it stemmed from kindness -- it always was faked or changed once people got what they needed. Secondly, the main big thing is I just didn't want to do anything wrong for fear of losing her that I ended up doing things wrong. I should've talked more about how timid I was and that it wasn't because of her -- she was helping me not to be timid when it came to intimacy that was other than physical. Physically I just didn't know my own strength and my body was sick, but that's a different story. Now these are the two major reasons that I see but I know we had a lot of other issues that did come up like my procrastination on moving and doing my graduate school application to move (putting all my eggs in one basket). I couldn't answer why because I wanted to do these things, but I always felt like I couldn't throw the dice. I couldn't explain why because it wasn't how I felt for her, because I wanted to make extra hours in the day to spend with this girl even in silence. Turns out haha mental illness, thanks ADHD and depression. ADHD is way worse than I could've ever expected and I fucking studied Psychology. Literally have a fucking Bachelors in it.

I'm not saying our communication was bad because there were situations where our communication was fucking impeccable. We went through some tough times in four years. Times that we did not expect, I mean shit I almost got seriously injured like 3 times because of freak car accidents and I almost died because of COVID and my genetic illnesses and being immunocompromised without knowing but also asthmatic (I knew this one). The biggest thing she was here for was when my mom was sick with a kidney infection and in the ER for a few weeks since there was no room for her in the ICU yet. There was a risk she would've died if they did not catch what was wrong in time. That rocked me pretty bad, I don't wanna lose my mom. I lost my dad when I was 18 and we weren't as close as me and my mom are. My mom has always had my back even when I've been wrong, sure she scolded me after and taught me right, but she's always protected me. There were two things I wanted to do before moving, one was help her with a court case that kept her from driving and being able to do simple tasks and the other was I just wanted to make sure she was okay health wise before I moved. I had already planted the seeds of "hey I'm moving in with L**** once I got things figured out we've been talking about it a lot and making plans for it". Of course my mom was gonna be overprotective a bit because of this because I mean, I'm moving cross country. Hardly anyone in my family has done that, I'd be one of the first. But secondly, she always relies on me to be there when my family isn't because she's the black sheep out of her brother and even me to her parents. They just find it easier to think the worst of her for some reason. So I wanted to make sure she's okay because she's supported me in all my ups and my many, many downs. It's just the type of person I was raised to be and I thought my ex understood that if I just left without doing this that I would start hating myself and being resentful of things. But also that if she did ask for help and if it was in our budget and did not make things harder for our household that I would help her financially. She's helped me financially for a lot that I'm grateful for.

Now this combined with the sentiment that my ex was feeling makes me feel like both choices weren't a wrong choice. I wanted to be there for her, I fucked up by not communicating another date I would be there since I unfortunately had to miss her birthday because my dog got sick. Me being a social idiot (thanks ADHD) was thinking that she didn't want me to visit anymore because she was so mad at me. She did want to see me, but she gave me the ultimatum of moving there in two weeks instead of a long visit or that was it. I didn't like this, it hurt me because I would be patient but I understood why she was doing this. Distance is the hardest fucking thing a lot of the time, it makes you miserable -- but for her I would always wait I would tell myself. So I thought the same would apply to me. It was around this time I finally got checked for my physical symptoms because hey fucking healthcare and insurance sucks having to wait four months for a physical even though you've described your symptoms and they're pretty fucking bad or go to a packed urgent care facility because this is at the height of the pandemic and well see what happens. Anyway, rant over -- I got checked and I had a thousand and one things wrong with me but basically I was always at risk of inducing a coma because my genetics and habits caught up to me and I was in constant flight or fight because my circulation and eating habits were also pretty lackluster. I wasn't drinking enough water, getting the right vitamins too. It's a miracle I survived. But it does explain the couple of times I hung out with my ex all day in person and we didn't really eat much until later in the day and I would just collapse. That happened once here in California and once after my flight to Michigan, the latter time I thought it was just me being tired from a 5 hour flight super early. Like I know my health sounded like an excuse to her because she just wanted me to choose her or feel like I'm choosing her above everything, and really she (fuck... I was saying this in the present tense....) was above everything for me. She made me happy. The happiest I have ever fucking been, I loved her flaws and I loved all the great things she had. People say there's no such thing as perfect but I thought she was the closest damn thing. Anyway, I fucked up because I couldn't prove this with my actions at the time for various things I have been dealing with in therapy but if I'm asked the question.

If I'm asked the question on whether or not I made the right choice?

I really can't say. I helped my mom, she's getting healthier but still has major health problems. My dog isn't sick anymore he's just epileptic. More importantly I'm not doing as bad physically -- mentally that's debatable but I have my moments that are good. But I'm unfulfilled now -- that's where I start to think I made the wrong choice. I think about if I moved and chose to be with her. Maybe I'd be healthier but I know that within that time frame my mom has had one major surgery for her vision because she could've gone blind and a second one coming up in about a month. She has an extremely bad back and cannot move around that much anymore, the gel in between two spinal columns is completely gone and she might have something worse that I'm taking her to her appointments for. Both of which might require surgery but that's a maybe option since she is a diabetic. I think I would hate myself so much more than I do for not being there for these things. But god I hate myself for letting my ex down too. I don't know what choice I could've done because both of these people matter to me a lot. Obviously for different reasons, but fuck man I can't answer this after a year going on two eventually of being apart.

[captainsquality]

Reblogging this again just to say; my mom got long haul covid near the beginning of the pandemic. My dad and I had both already been disabled for years. He retired due to chronic migraines, and I've been disabled my entire adult life with chronic illness/pain and some often extreme mental health issues that include severe depression and agoraphobia.

For the last six or seven years, mom had been the only Abled person in our home(I have three brothers out on their own, so our 'household' fiscally speaking is just us three).

Mom worked from home and we were all very careful about health, masking etc. Mostly for MY benefit because I tend to get sick the most easily, and get hit with illnesses(Especially respiratory symptoms) the hardest.

Mom never once tested positive. The tests have actually NEVER been reliable, in my experience. Before any variants, before """the new normal""".

My mom got sick and it ripped our entire livelihood out from under us and put us through so, so much exhaustion and pain and trauma. Our family home since my early childhood ripped away from us. We had to burn through years of savings. We were living in interim/temporary lodging with friends/ family for almost a YEAR before we even had the luxury to look for MAYBE RENTING an apartment.

I can't chalk it up to anything but divine providence, tbh, that we ended up able to actually purchase a double-wide mobile home last august. It was nothing short of a godsend to find something that suited the needs of all THREE of us, even my need for my own separate/isolated space and for that personal space to be a comfortable size.

But literally from around mid-2020 to almost the very end of 2022 our entire lives were ripped to shred, in flux, a huge question mark with only the love and accommodation of family and friends keeping us afloat. And we still have to pinch pennies and hold our breath sometimes, especially now that we aren't receiving pandemic assistance for our EBT, which paid for SO many groceries and therefore opened up more budget for ongoing medical expenses.

My point in all this is just to give some insight into what, exactly, the experience of long COVID can do. I count my parents and I as extremely fortunate to have weathered the worst stretches of our situation as blessedly as we did and to have come out in a relatively stable one. I thank whatever god's out there every day for it.

The advantage of now, I think, is that long-covid is not obscure and unknown anymore. It was still a relatively 'new' thing when my mom got it, so for a very long time we didn't know exactly what was going on with her or if she would get better, or worse, or what. There's more information now, at least, and people are more aware that oh, this can happen, we need to be on the lookout for it.

Still, please take it extremely seriously, always. If there is a precaution available to you, USE it, doubly so to help protect people who can't. I hate that so many people out there are likely experiencing what my family went through now, but at least by sharing our experience I can spread awareness.

did anyone else catch this cold that feels like the flu and does the usual feel-like-you're-dying thing for a day or two but then after you get "better" you still have a wad of phlegm the size and viscosity of a bowling ball in your skull for the next week and alternately choke on post-nasal drip that tastes + feels like Silly Putty or prolapse your nostil while blowing your nose loud enough to signal to Gabriel that the Rapture has begun? asking for a friend

[missmentelle]

Let’s talk about Instagram “influencer” culture. 

My younger brother and his girlfriend are Instagram influencers. They aren’t household names with a million fans apiece, but they each have a decent following. They’ve been featured in various lists and roundups of people whose lives and relationships are #goals, and they both earn a steady income from Instagram. Not enough to make a full-time living, but enough to make pouring hundreds of hours into their Instagram careers worth their while. 

Despite being so close to an Instagram influencer - several of the most popular photos on my brother’s account were taken by me - I have some serious qualms about Instragram “influencer” culture as a whole. I studied the impact of platforms like Instagram in graduate school - I have a master’s degree in clinical psychology, and I spent part of my time in grad school working with a professor who studies the impact of social media on mental health. A recent study found that out of all social media platforms, Instagram is the worst for your mental health. I’ve also had the chance to see firsthand what a life lived on Instagram has meant for my brother, and the toll it continues to take on him. 

So what makes Instagram influencer culture so toxic for both the people who create it and the people influenced by it? For starters: It’s faker than you think. Instagram stars intentionally market themselves as “authentic” and “real” - you are led to believe that you are getting an unfiltered glimpse into someone’s daily life as you follow along with their pictures and their daily stories. In reality, however, a huge amount of time, effort and money goes into the images you see. My brother and his girlfriend take hundreds of photos in order to get one or two shots worthy of posting. Outings are often little more than photoshoots; a “hike” is often just a short walk to a scenic location, followed by hours of photos. Ditto for ice skating, beach days and photos from music festivals. They don’t get to enjoy many of the activities they are depicted doing with big smiles on Instagram, because the focus is on capturing the perfect photo. Photos are often planned weeks in advance, vacations are booked based on which locations will make the best backdrops, and the fancy food in their pictures often goes cold while they get the perfect shot. The fact that they want to create beautiful images is not an issue - after all, the pictures in many mainstream ads are stunning. The issue is that they’re specifically pretending not to be models or advertisers; they are intentionally leading you to believe that what you’re seeing is candid daily life. Which leads me to...

It presents unattainable ideals as everyday life. Instagram influencers roll out of bed in perfect and tastefully-decorated apartments, eat nutritious and visually stunning meals, and lead full, active lives of glamour and adventure. Their skin is never flawed, their hair never out of place, and their outfits never tacky. Again, this isn’t a problem if you are creating an advertisement or a TV show - something that your viewers know is manufactured to look perfect - but Instagram stars hinge their success on pretending that that level of non-stop perfect is their average, daily life. In reality, my brother’s girlfriend piles dirty laundry and books in her bathtub so that her bedroom looks “minimalist” in her photos, and the two of them post weeks-old starry-eyed couple photos with gushy captions even when they are on the verge of breaking up. Influencers themselves tend to be young, attractive, white, thin, able-bodied, middle-class cis people - an ideal that is already unattainable for most people - and yet they present themselves as totally average people. When flaws and problems are revealed, it’s often in a very controlled way, and generally tied in with some kind of pithy advice or mantra. Which brings us to...

It encourages people with no credentials to hand out “expert” advice. This is probably one of the most damaging aspects of influencer culture. 22-year-olds with absolutely no formal training in nutrition, mental health, medicine, dermatology or fitness are handing out “expert” wellness advice - or even designing diets, skincare routines, and workout regimens for others - and feeling increasingly comfortable doing it. Vulnerable people who may have very serious issues lap this advice up, regardless of how unsound or untested it may be; after all, these influencers appear to have perfect lives, and it’s easy to assume that they must know the secrets of health, happiness and clear skin. There are a couple of huge problems with this. For one, many people aren’t actually aware of why they are successful - if a conventionally attractive cis white woman whose parents financially support her tells you that the secret to avoiding stress is meditation and mud masks, you should be skeptical of that advice. People in positions of relative privilege are often blind to the many advantages they have, and will attribute their success to their “wellness routines” or “positive thinking”, rather than the social advantages that are not available to many of their followers. Also, influencers are often peddling advice that they themselves do not follow. My brother’s girlfriend makes money by selling advice on how to make a full-time living while travelling the world, despite the fact that she isn’t actually able to do that. Many influencers who promote extremely restrictive diets and health regimes have admitted that they themselves do not follow these diets. People who are feeling deeply insecure about their bodies, relationships, careers, lifestyles and productivity are turning to advice from people who aren’t qualified to help. And why does every Instagram star suddenly seem to be offering themselves up as a “wellness” expert? It’s because...

It exists to sell you things, while pretending otherwise. As much as the influencer community presents itself as being all about “authenticity”, “expression”, “empowerment”, or “wellness”, at the end of the day, it is all about trying to sell you things, even if that means exploiting your deepest insecurities. A company that employs plus-sized models to represent their $90 leggings is still a company that, at the end of the day, is trying to sell you $90 leggings, and if they have to pay someone to convince you that these leggings are the only thing standing between you and finally loving your body and having the courage to chase your dreams, then that’s exactly what they are going to do. It is an advertisement, dressed up as self-help and inspiration from an ordinary person who just wants you to succeed. If you find that you feel bad about yourself after a couple of minutes of scrolling through your instagram feed, that’s the impact that the app is meant to have on you. People who are completely satisfied with themselves and their lives don’t buy things they don’t need - making you feel like your life should be better is the key to selling you a wide variety of products. 

Does all this mean that Instagram is evil, or that influencers are bad people? Of course not. They are people trying to make money through self-expression, and many produce interesting and engaging content. Many of them are very young, and may not think about the impact that they might be having on their followers. I certainly don’t think that any of them set out to deceive people. But it is important to think critically about the media we consume, the purpose of that media, and the message it carries. I have known many people, both personally and professionally, who find that they feel worse about themselves after spending an afternoon scrolling through social media, and I think it’s important for all of us to examine why that may be, and take steps to protect our own mental health.

[theelvenhaven]

Elves Reacting To Your Period

Imladris

Elrond

Elrond is an ellon expert knowledge of healing, humans and had a sibling who chose a mortal life. Let alone making Imladris a haven for all races and walks of life- that were peaceful, of course. So you wouldn’t be the first menstruating human he’s been around. He is completely and utterly supportive yet subtle and discreet knowing that this is a delicate time for you. As well as possibly embarrassing to make a tremendous fuss over it.

Elrond discreetly brings you pain relievers, has soothing teas prepared for you, checks in on you when he has the time available. The Healer in him brings him to fret over you some, and should your pain be severe, he is quick to alleviate it. He’s had thousands of years to assist with such things, and you being his partner, he will more than happily help you. He will also make sure any menstrual products are there at your immediate disposal. 

Elrond is very gentle with you, being sure to provide you with the emotional and mental comfort that you might need during the day. Making himself far more available through your period if he can help it, wanting to make sure you have the proper support you need. Saving any physical comforts for later when you two can be alone properly and uninterrupted.

Glorfindel

This warm ball of sunshine isn’t entirely clueless about humans and their menstruation cycles. He has spent little of his time around it or reading about it. While logically he knows you menstruate, it surprises Glorfindel the first time he encounters it with you. Glorfindel is worried he has hurt you somehow or another, even if the placing of blood on your clothes and sheets show that he couldn’t possibly have hurt you.

Glorfindel is quick to try to get you to a healer or a healer to you, wanting to make sure you are in fact okay. Though when you explain to him that partially, you are okay and that the bleeding is normal; he is quick to simmer down. The ease with which you speak of it is what brings him to trust you on it, and he attentively listens to you. Glorfindel also asks you a lot of questions about it, as it is human men he is used to being around, so his knowledge about your reproductive health is not extensive. He is also quick to help you clean up any sheets or clothes that need to be taken care of, or take over gathering the items while you clean and situate yourself.

Glorfindel will do what he can to take some time off during your worst days of menstruation and is unfortunately not exactly tactful about it at first. You will have to tell him if it bothers you, in the event you find it embarrassing, as he has no shame in announcing it. Because he will straightforwardly tell them “Y/N is menstruating I am afraid I am unavailable until further notice.”. Once you tell him, Glorfindel will keep that talk between you, him and the Healers if need be. When he can’t be there with you, he instead sends a healer in to check on you and bring you the things you need.

Erestor

Erestor is extremely knowledgeable and has spent a copious amount of time absorbing everything there is too in the library. Even on healing subjects, no matter how gruesome or unusual they may seem to him. But with dealing with menstruation... Well, that is a completely different story. Erestor won’t make a massive fuss over you being on your period, but he is entirely flustered by what you are going through. 

At first he genuinely doesn’t know what to do. He never imagined he would have to deal with a menstruating human. Even when he started courting you. But Erestor is very technical and by the book- literally here. So he does what he thinks anyone should do, and goes to reference his books quietly and away from prying eyes.Erestor is extremely discreet about helping you, keeping the matter very private. Don’t mistake this for him being ashamed of you, he is far from ashamed of your bodily function. Erestor is just a very private ellon. 

He places a few orders for a dozen or more every month, for pain relievers to be kept in your shared chambers at all times. Stashed away in your desk drawers too so they are readily available and you or him aren’t having to haul off to the Healing Halls all the time. Quietly he will consult Elrond- the only other elf he will tell about it- if he feels like he isn’t doing enough until he gets the hang of helping you. If your pain and discomfort is severe, Erestor- while one for privacy- will go with you to the Healing Halls and explain the matter to them. Diligently sticking by your side and listening intently for care instructions and how to help you further.

Lindir

Lindir is completely and utterly flustered when he discovers that you are menstruating. It is not that he is doing it to make you feel bad- which only makes him feel worse when he sees his embarrassment is distressing you- it’s that he just doesn’t know what to do. Seeing the blood on the sheets and on your clothes makes him feel faint as are you hurt? But then you explain its your period?

Of course he knows what a period is from what he has overheard when coming to see Elrond in the Healing Halls. But that doesn’t make him any less uncomfortable about it. He is stammers and stutters asking questions and is bright cherry red trying to figure out what to do next. Despite all this fuss he has stirred up, Lindir is really supportive. Just the first few times this is what you will encounter. With him profusely apologizing for embarrassing you or distressing you. 

Trying to help somehow, nervously going down to the healers or Elrond for the things you need while you tidy up. Elrond swore the first time he came to him and had to talk to him about it, that he was going to faint over the ordeal. Elrond made him sit an extra ten minutes until he could calm down and send him back to you. On his way back, Lindir sends for someone to fix you your favorite meal and may grab a flower or two as an overly sweet gesture to apologize with the pain reliever in hand. In time, every time you have your period, he gives you a flower with your first meal after he sees how happy it makes you the first time.  

Elrohir

While Elrohir is used to being around humans, them being menstruating humans is a completely different subject. As it is, he is already pretty protective over you and your well being, especially since you’re human and considers you to be more fragile. So when you wake up and are bleeding or have bled through your clothes and maybe even on him, worried is a very simple way of putting it. He certainly makes a fuss over it between you both!

While being such a great healer himself, he is ready to give you an exam from head to toe and figure out why and where you are bleeding. When you tell him what your period is, and its purpose, Elrohir’s visibly relieved that no, it is not life threatening. And grateful that no he didn’t sleep through you getting hurt- as he is a heavy sleeper. Though he voices his concerns that you are now physically uncomfortable. But like his father, Elrohir is quick to use his skills in healing to good use to help ease your pains and discomforts. Making and bringing you tonics and pain relievers and anything you need to ease the nuisance of your menstruation. 

Elrohir will prefer that you take time off from any work and take time off his own duties to be with you when he’s in Imladris. Like this goes without question and there is no making him change his mind, every single month. Without fail Elrohir takes that week off to be with you. Even if you tell him you will be fine, Elrohir is taking the time off regardless and will absolutely even go as far as to delay his leavings with the Rangers until the time has passed. He’s happy to hold you and kiss all over you and lounge around with you if that makes you feel better. He’ll read softly to you, or comfort you through such tough emotional difficulties, and most definitely not skip over any whims you may have for food. 

Elladan

Like Elrohir, he isn’t used to be around menstruating humans at all. Though he is far more laid back compared to his brother. So rather than making a huge fuss about your menstruation, Elladan will ask you seriously if you are okay and carry on as if it were not really a big deal. Making a few light hearted jokes to keep your mood up if he can tell it is negatively affecting you.

Elladan will help you clean things up without question. The sheets are dirty and you’re embarrassed? No big deal, you can’t help it. Elladan just carries on normalizing these instances for you entirely, as he just wants you to be comfortable with him. I headcanon that while Elladan does and can heal, making tonics/pain relievers aren’t his strong suit and he will definitely ask his brother to do so for you. 

Elladan is laid back, so if you need anything from him you can most certainly tell him and he will do it without question. You want alone time because you’re furious? No big deal, he will back in an hour or two. You want him all to yourself all day? You’ve got it. It embarrasses you to go to the healing halls for menstruation products? Say no more, Elladan is already halfway down the hall to get it for you. 

Bonus:

Haldir

Haldir is no stranger to blood or humans and their customs and bodily functions. So when you menstruate the first time while together, he completely and totally expected it to happen. It was inevitable, but that doesn’t mean that he knows everything you need. Haldir knows that pain is something that generally seems to be an issue for menstruating humans and is at least prepared for that much.

He asks you what all you need while bringing you a vial of pain reliever he has stored in talan or on his person specifically for you. Telling you not to fuss with anything other than yourself, if it's like a bedroll or comforter you’ve bled over. The ellon knows how to get blood out of fabric and will first handle the list of things you need and then tend to the stained fabric. Haldir will go and fetch the things you need without batting an eyelash, and he just brushes any of the healer's concerns aside. 

Even if they offer to help, he just shrugs away their words, knowing you’ll go to them if you need it and that there is no sense and making a big deal over something so normal for you. Haldir will listen to all of your woes about it, comforting you even in his more subtle ways however he can. Holding your hand, rubbing your back, and in private holding you close. Haldir though will just tell you flat out to do something that will help you if he knows you are putting it off or have forgotten. Unperturbed by the conversation or needing to help you when he’s around and not on patrol.

* * * 

tags:

@saviorsong​ @lilmelily​ @dicksoutformtl​ @fandomhoe101​ @icarus-fell-in-spring​ @iwenttomordor​ @red-riding​ @elarinya-nailo​

[its--fandom--darling]

between now and then, til I see you again... chapter 4

Chapter Rating: PG-13, chapter warnings: angst, talks of health issues, and past homophobia.

A/N: I’M BACK! Look at me back from the seeming dead, i’ve been battingly with little to no inspiration to finish this and insane work hours and family stuff. But this morning I woke up and felt the urge to finish up this chapter and hopefully this story by the end of the month. Thank you to all who have been on this journey with me. I love y’all!

Chapter 4:

Sy grumbles slightly, desperate to get comfortable in his hospital bed, his eyes were heavy with sleep and guilt as his thoughts once more drift to the whole event started to the rift with him and his son.

The day of the incident – 10 years earlier

“Can you believe that our baby boy is graduating with a doctorate degree?” you ask, as you slip your hand into Sy’s as you walk into the large gathering hall. Leigh smiles and waves at you from the seats that she saved.

              “Mom! Dad! Over here!”

You hurry over to meet her and kiss her cheek, “Thanks for saving the seats, baby.”

              “No problem,” she says, standing to kiss Sy’s cheek.

“So, when does this shindig begin?” Sy asks, sitting down and opening his program.

              “Any minute now, dad, just be patient,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes at you and making you laugh at your husband’s excitement.

The ceremony goes smoothly save for some overzealous cheering from your section and then your son had completed his doctorate in Child psychology.

“Congratulations, baby,” you murmur, pulling Jamie into a hug and kissing his cheek. “I’m so proud of you, you are so smart.”

              James smiles and kisses your cheek, “Thanks mama.” He pulls back and then reaches out a hand to Sy.

Sy shakes his head before taking James’ hand and then tugging him into a hug, “Come here, boy, I’m proud of you. It’s not what I expected from you, but I’m proud none-the-less.”

              Jamie pats his dad’s back and then pulls away. “Thanks, dad,” he murmurs, looking down at his shoes awkwardly.

Sy clears his throat and steps back, “We’ve got reservations, we should head out if we wanna make em.”

              Your group nods and makes their way to the respective cars before heading towards the restaurant. Jamie choosing to ride with his sister.

“So, are you gonna tell them today?”

              Jamie puffs out a huge sigh, “I was going to but scared, Leigh.”

“I know you’re expecting the worst, but I think that it’s time and I think that Dad might surprise you.”

              “You heard what he said earlier, in his backhanded compliment.”

Leigh rolls her eyes slightly, “Come on, I’ve got your back. You know that.”

              He nods, “I do, Leigh, I do know that. But I just can’t shake the feeling that I need to get as far as away as possible before I can live my life the way I want to.”

Leigh reaches over and squeezes his hand, “I know, and I know that Dad has always been hard on you, but he does love you, very much.”

              “Of course, you say that, you’re his favorite.”

Leigh rolls her eyes, “That’s not fair, he was tough on me too.”

              “It was different, and you know it.”

Leigh sighs, “I know, but nobody’s perfect.”

              Jamie scoffs as Leigh pulls the care into parking lot of the local steakhouse.

“I know he doesn’t always show it but he loves you, AND if I was dad’s favorite you were mama’s. I know that doesn’t make things easier but it should tell you that mama will have your back too. She’ll love you no matter what because you’re her baby boy.” Leigh murmurs with a hint of teasing in her voice.

              Jamie holds his hands up. “Alright, alright, I get it. If the moment arises, I’ll tell them.”

Leigh just smiles at him before Sy raps his knuckles on her window and waves at them. The siblings climb out of their car and follow their parents into the restaurant.

The majority of the meal goes fine, swimmingly in fact, even with Leigh shooting Jamie pointed looks every time there is a lull in conversation.

Dessert has just been cleared and a round of coffee ordered, as Sy stretches his arms up and pats his stomach contentedly. You look at him fondly and shake your head. Leigh is almost glaring at Jamie, who is nervously twisting a straw wrapper in his fingers.

              “So Jamie, what is your next step?” you ask, lacing your fingers together and resting your chin on your hands.

“Well, I’m waiting to hear back from a few places about a job, a school, a clinic and a local group home for foster kids.”

              You nod smiling, “Do you have a preference of the places.”

Jamie smiles shyly and drops the wrapper; “I think I’d really like to get the job at the group home. Those kids have seen so much for being as young as they are, and I just really think that I could make a difference there.”

              “I know you would, baby,” you reply, before thanking the waitress who drops off the tray of coffee for you all.

Sy takes a sip of his coffee before chiming into the conversation. “have you thought about applying anywhere around up home?”

Jamie blanches for a minute, “Um, no, I hadn’t considered it. My life is kinda here now, dad.”

              Sy frowns slightly at that, scratching at his salt and peppered beard. “But couldn’t it just as easily be moved home, I know your mama’d love to have you closer to us and it’s not like you’ve put down roots with anyone yet.”

Jamie clears his throat and looks at Leigh, who gives him a small nod, before he continues. “Actually, I am seeing someone.”

              Sy smirks, “Well why didn’t you say so son? What’s the lucky ladies name?”

Jamie takes a break, “Their name is Aaron and it’s still pretty new.”

              “so why didn’t she tag along today?”

“Well, as I said, it’s still pretty new, they had to work and mainly because I had somethings to talk to you about before you meet them.”

              “Like?”

Jamie takes another steadying breathe, “Well for starters it not Erin, e-r-i-n, it’s Aaron, A-a-r-o-n.”

              Leigh watches silently as the wheels turn in Sy’s head as you lean forward and reach across the table for Jamie’s hand. “Baby, are you trying to us that the Aaron, you’re seeing is a boy?”

Jamie glances cautiously at Sy before, squeeing your hand and nodding. “Yeah, I am mama.”

              Your face softens, “Oh baby, does this Aaron make you happy?”

“Yeah, he does mama.”

              “Then that’s all that matters.”

              “To hell it ain’t, Jamie, what is wrong with you. I let the fact that you didn’t want to follow Syverson tradition and serve in the military slide, because you wanted to get your fancy degree but this? I refuse to let the Syverson name die.”

              Your hand moves to rest on Sy’s arm, “Honey, please, let’s no ruin a great day, we can talk about this later.”

              Leigh pipes up, “Daddy, you always told us that you wanted us to find something like you and mama had, it shouldn’t matter who we potentially find that with.”

              “Well, it does, no son of mine is going to be, to be…” his voice falters when your hand tightens on his forearm and you glare at him.

Jamie stands, “You can say it, Dad, GAY. Because that’s what I am, and I spent too long hiding it from you because I knew this was how you’d react.”

              “Sit down, James, we are not done discussing this!” Sy growls angrily.

Jamie scoffs, “I think we are, Wyatt.”

              “Baby, please, don’t leave yet. I think your father is just in shock,” you offer with pleading eyes.

“Don’t defend him mama, he’s made it perfectly clear how he feels and honestly, maybe that’s exactly why the Syverson name should die out.”

Jamie storms out of the restaurant ignoring, the calls of his name from his so-called family.

Present Day - 

Sy wakes with a start, blinking blearily against the harsh overhead fluorescents of the hospital room, before rubbing a hand down his face. He reaches for his phone on the stand and takes a peek at it, somehow he’d managed to get a decent amount of sleep even though he still felt like he’d been hit by a Mac truck.

Guess that’s what emergency heart surgery will do to ya… he muses as he closes his eyes and drops his head back against the pillow. You’d be back he thinks smiling to himself, finally agreeing to go home when he could no longer keep his eyes open early, early this morning after Leigh arrived. He’d always loved how stubborn you could be as frustrating as it had been when he’d been on the receiving end of it.

A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts of you, thinking it a nurse he pretends to be asleep until he hears someone clear their throat. Popping open an eyes, his stomach turns as he takes in the man standing in his doorway.

“Hello Dad.”

[doberbutts]

Hey friends, I had hoped this post would have a more hopeful tone to it, but unfortunately Suvie has already decided the direction this will go.

Many of you have “known” Suvie through my good friend @khayr​, who adopted this senior girl two years ago when her previous family abandoned her to be euthanized after the elderly person who owned her was hospitalized. Suvie was eight years old at the time and had many health concerns including Addison’s, pica, thyroid disease, and a seizure disorder. @khayr​ has an elderly cat with medical issues and Suvie’s story really resonated with her- her worst fear is that if she became unable to care for her cat, that her family would just get rid of him without a second thought. @khayr​ and her partner brought Suvie home and have been steadily caring for her extensive, expensive medical needs.

Through some digging we discovered that where Suvie came from and I realized that she is a singular day younger than my first doberman, also a rescue with extensive, expensive needs, named Skoll. Seeing Suvie flourish in @khayr​‘s home was like getting a second chance at seeing Skoll’s twilight years. With no small amount of effort, I’ve watched Suvie change and grow and become comfortable in @khayr​‘s care, to the point where we all joked she’d live forever.

Sadly, nothing in dobermans is that simple.

Last week, Suvie somehow managed to get ahold of a used dryer sheet and ate it. While her stomach thankfully rejected it, her Addison’s complicated the irritation and her chances of recovery were very slim. Somehow she beat the odds and came home to spend her last few days with my friend... before crashing again.

This time she ate something else. Something bigger. Something that must be removed with surgery. Except obstruction removal is very hard on a dog, and being that Suvie is ten with Addison’s, it’s very unlikely that she’d survive recovery.

@khayr​ goes to say goodbye to Tubers in only a few hours. What’s left behind is a mountain of medical debt. I understand that life is hard right now for many people, but if you have any amount to spare, please consider donating to @khayr​‘s paypal  socks.vanvalkenburg@gmail.com as they have already experienced a lot of hardship this year and did not expect to lose their beloved dog so suddenly. If you cannot donate, please repost so we can spread this to give her owners some assistance paying off a HUGE vet bill for a beloved friend that ultimately did not make it.

Below I’ve attached the receipts generated up til this point. There will also be one more receipt for the overnight stay and euthanasia, once the deed is done.

[angelhummel]

why do you think Blaine cheating wasn't that bad? i know Kurt wasn't great and basically ignored him but how is cheating the answer? especially when he visited Kurt soon after and could've had a conversation? (just to clarify I love Blaine and Klaine, i just thought Blaine was totally wrong to cheat)

oof okay i’m going to try and like bullet point things bc if i expanded on every single argument then we’d be here for hours lol

Blaine was already insecure about Kurt leaving him behind, saying Kurt would have new friends, a new life, etc. Already feeling like Kurt was moving on without him

He thought those fears were coming true after Kurt had been in NY for weeks (if not months - weird timeline) and was starting to ignore him

People minimize it and say it was one missed phone call but it wasn’t

People also credit it to Kurt being busy at his job, which was hardly ever the case

We see Blaine looking sad when he’s trying to ask Kurt’s advice on what to wear - we know how much Kurt loves picking out Blaine’s clothes - and Kurt basically ignores the question and keeps talking about his video

Kurt cuts a call with Blaine short basically just to gossip with someone

And the missed phone call is late at night when he’s just hanging around schmoozing, not working

People also make it seem like Blaine was practically already on the way to see Kurt and couldn’t resist cheating like, minutes before he got to the airport lol

He had a scheduled visit in two weeks, which probably felt like an eternity when he’d already gone so long without seeing Kurt

We see Blaine struggle throughout the show with all sorts of problems. Depression, low self esteem, body dysmorphia, abandonment issues, feeling like he always has to be in control. He’s not a bad person for feeling these things. And this is when they all sort of collide and lead to something he will, and obviously does regret

We even hear it straight from his mouth. He felt like Kurt was moving on without him. Long distance is hard. In his eyes, going for one visit after weeks and weeks apart was probably like putting a bandaid over a bullet wound

He thought there was no point in talking because he thought his relationship was as good as over

He jumped to the worst conclusions, like he also has a tendency to do. And he fucked up. And he knew he fucked up

Literally immediately after this fuck up he rushes to NY to talk to Kurt. To come clean about everything and confess what he did and hopefully start to make things right again

I know that comparing a bad thing to a worse thing doesn’t make the bad thing good but. He didn’t cheat bc he was bored, he didn’t cheat bc he needed the ego boost, he didn’t cheat to get revenge. He didn’t make a habit of it. He didn’t manipulate anyone. He didn’t lie about what he did, or go as long as he could without telling Kurt the truth

99% of the characters on this show cheated, usually for the most petty and asinine reasons. Blaine is one of the few that actually makes sense story and characterwise. It goes beyond some stupid “serial cheater”, “constantly juggling two girls” or “break up with your boyfriend, I’m bored” motive that every other cheater seemed to have

And I’m sorry, I really didn’t want to vague anyone in this post. But I saw someone say “if Blaine loved Kurt as much as he did, he should’ve felt comfortable enough to be vocal about his insecurities”. Love is not a cure all for any negative feelings brought on by a person’s mental illness. Blaine’s love for Kurt, and his inability to always eloquently express what’s wrong with him, actually have very little to do with each other. And these insecurities get brought up again in s5 and we see Blaine continuing his struggle in working through them. It’s a hugely significant part of his character arc

And I won’t hear any “it’s not that deep” excuse bc in s6 Blaine outright says he’s seeing a therapist and working on his mental health issues. We can’t pretend like his depression is just a fan theory with no in-show evidence to back it up

And just to clarify for myself, the above bullet points aren’t me trying to shit on Kurt or blame him for all of this. Same with all Klaine fights, I understand some of both sides but don’t think either one is necessarily right or wrong. It’s never all black and white with them. So while I honestly don’t like how Kurt was treating Blaine around this time, I don’t blame him for this, either. I don’t blame either of them

They’re just two teenage boys in over their heads and they take a few trials and errors to finally get things right and that’s okay. They learned from their mistakes and managed to grow closer and stronger from them in the end. And that’s all that matters, and that’s why I love them so much ♡♡

[thestyleswritings]

Fix You

"We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

 "Well? I'd love to hear what I said that you're still thinking about months later and talkin’ to your therapist about, baby." The hand that lay stationery on her thigh squeezed a bit, encouraging her to talk to him.

 "You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

Or - The one where you have depression and Harry leads you in the right direction, and then some

(6.1K)

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Mention of Mental Health Issues, VERY brief mentions of suicide, Language, Possible Breeding Kink(??), Smut (at the end)

Masterlist

I wrote this in one night,,, shout out to mania.This isn’t even what I was working on. I don’t know if this is something that many people will want to read but it definitely brought a smile to my face to write. Do I need therapy? Probably. Will I ignore that and continue to escape my own mind through fiction? Absolutely. Reblog/Like if you enjoy!

  Harry knew she'd been struggling for a long time. It wasn't like her depressive periods lasted very long when they happened, maybe around a week or so, but when they hit, they hit her hard. He'd asked her when they first started dating, years ago, why she never invited him over and why she always went to his place, and at first she didn't want to tell him. It was embarrassing to her that she sometimes got into these periods where she didn't even want to lift her head from the pillow, let alone tidy up her flat.

  Harry eventually went over to her place once she felt comfortable enough to let him. She knew he wasn't going to judge her, and she knew all he wanted was to help her feel better. He stayed at her flat for hours the first time he came over, helping to fold the laundry she had done days before, dusting the bookshelf, clearing out the refrigerator. He'd joked they were a perfect match since he loved to clean up while listening to music they both loved; it relaxed his mind. His love language was acts of service anyway, which he constantly had to remind her of. He didn't mind doing anything and everything in his power in order to alleviate his lover's stress. She had sworn to Harry she'd try her best to keep the place in tiptop shape, but he didn't actually expect her to.

  He'd lost more than one friend to severe depression and he knew it was nothing to take lightly. Unfortunately, he also knew the signs to look for in suicidal people all too well. He could tell she had become moodier and spent a good bit of her day in bed either sleeping or just staring off into the void. She texted him that she was at home more and more, opting out of seeing her close friends for drinks or dinner. He hadn't seen her, either. It was all beginning to worry him deeply. He knew she'd have bad days, he'd signed up for that, but this was bigger than just a rough day. It had been going on for nearly two weeks and he knew he couldn't wait to address it any longer. He wanted to approach her tenderly. He was fearful that if he misspoke, she would shut down.

  That's how he ended up at her door one evening, unannounced. He brought along two sunflowers, one significantly taller than the other. He'd seen them at the florist's downstairs and they made him smile to himself. They were her favourite flower, and the posture of them reminded him of both of them. He hoped they would make her smile, too.

  He didn't bother ringing the bell, fishing out the spare key she had made up for him from his jeans pocket. When he stepped through the threshold, his heart sunk. There were empty cups on the coffee table, and he knew that meant she wasn't eating. If she were, there would've at least been a bowl or two. In that regard, her untidiness was helpful. He could assess the situation before even having to talk about it. 

  He sighed deeply as he gently places the sunflowers down on the kitchen island, walking over to clear the short table in front of the loveseat. He could practically feel the pain she was in and he hated.  He hated the fact that she had to be stuck with the short end of the stick. He walks the cups over to the sink, running the water over them for a moment before grabbing the sponge on the ledge of the sink to scrub them clean.

  As he washed the cups, he thought of what he could say to her that would actually prove to be helpful. It wasn't easy to always have the right words when the person hearing them didn't care if they lived or died. He knew if he told her outright how upset he was seeing her this way, it would only serve to make her feel worse that she couldn't help it. He didn't want to force or therapy on her, but he really wasn't left with many options. He wouldn't lose someone else to this. He couldn't live with himself, nor without her.

  He shuts off the tap and dries his hands on the cute yellow kitchen towel that was always draped on the cabinet next to the sink. With the flowers in hand, he cracks open her bedroom door. There are a few small piles of clothing around, t-shirts and sweatpants carelessly discarded based on the look of how everything was inside out.

  The sight of her breaks his heart. She was curled up tight beneath her fuzzy blanket that he knew she only pulled out when she was missing him and his snuggles, facing the wall while her arm hung limply over the stuffed dragon he'd gotten her ages ago. He could tell she hadn't gotten up all day, that much was evident. All the lights in the apartment had been off when he'd arrived and there was a stillness to the air. She hadn't even answered his messages sent hours earlier. He thought the worst for a moment, frozen in place with wide eyes trained on her unmoving body before hearing a soft snore coming from her, easing his breathing exponentially.

  He sits on the edge of her bed, placing the flowers with a shaky hand in a cup of water that had been sitting on her bedside table. He brings his hand up to the dip of her waist, gently rubbing up and down the length of her torso to soothe her awake.

   "Wake up, bug. S'me. Brought ya a little present." He coos at her once he heard her intake a large breath, reaching up to tuck her thick hair behind her ear. He could tell she hadn't washed it in a few days and made a mental note to encourage her to shower with him. She stirred under his touch, like she could tell it was him even when she was deep in slumber.

  "Harry?" She calls out quietly into the dark, feeling the warmth of his palm against her cheek. Had she been more awake and alert, she might've even been sheepish at her disheveled appearance. She already knew he saw all the empty cups on her table that had once been full of tea and coffee. She felt ashamed.

  "Yeah baby, it's me. Can you turn around and let me see that pretty face?" He croons, removing the hand that had been stroking her hair.

  She sighs deeply before turning over in her full sized bed, eyes focusing on the plush faux-down blanket beneath her. His hand slowly approaches her face again, this time grabbing hold of her chin softly to have her look at him. He smiles sadly at her. She knew that look. It's the same way her mother would look at her when she came into her room as a teenager. Pity, almost. It made her feel weak. 

  "Hello, my angel. Have you been in bed all day, lovie?" He dotes on her, running his thumb across her cheekbone. He knew the answer, he just wanted her to acknowledge it.

  "Mhm. What time is it?" Her voice is hoarse, as if she'd been crying the night before. The sound of it deflated Harry's heart in his chest.

  "S' a quarter til six, lovie. What time did you fall asleep?" He asks, leaving his hand on her face to cradle her soft cheek.

  "Dunno. Seven, eight? This morning sometime." She replies, sighing at her own erroneous sleeping schedule. Harry presses his lips together silently, taking in her words.

  "Alright. Well, I'm here now, so up you get." He requests softly. Softly enough where she doesn't find it demanding. He stands from her bed, holding a hand out to her.

  "Did I hear you say you brought me something?" She asks as she sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. He chuckles at her, knowing that a huge part of her mental illness caused her to crave buying material possessions, only for them to mean nothing to her the very next day. It was something she was truly trying to work on.

  "Yes baby, I did. S' on the bedside table." He informs her, waiting for her to turn and see them before he walks closer to her. She caresses the vibrant petals of the yellow flower, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

  "I... I love them, Harry. Thank you." He can hear the tightness in her throat and he worries that he should've just not gotten them at all for a moment before he sees the genuine smile across her lips.

  "I saw them and thought of you. Well, us, really. Don't they look like us?" He beams at her, and she sort of thinks she can see what he means. He looks like a sunflower when he smiles. He brings light and beauty into her life. Maybe that's why she found herself wanting to cry. Because she felt like she wasn't worthy of the human sunflower standing in her room.

  "Yeah. They do look like us." She offers a smile, smaller this time now that she's thought about it. She wraps her arms around his middle, allowing the overwhelming feeling of warmth and comfort to consume her for a moment before pulling away.

  "I should probably go clean off the coffee table, huh?" She says humorlessly, walking the way of the door before his voice stops her.

  "I did it for you, baby. Why don't you come with me to have a nice warm shower? I want to talk to you about some things while we're in there anyway."  Panic strikes her still; what did he want to talk about? Was he finally fed up? Did he find someone else, someone who could take care of themselves properly? Was that why he was being especially sweet on her? She felt like she could throw up. She didn't know how to do this without him anymore, and that alone scared her. It wasn't to say she didn't adore him for all that he does for her, she just wished he didn't feel like he had to. She wished she could get her mind well enough to care to do even the simplest tasks.

  She nods her head and thanks him quietly for straightening up before walking into her bathroom and stripping down to nothing. She reaches into the shower to turn on the water and waits for it to get warm, as well as Harry. She didn't like the sound of wanting to talk, even if he hadn't necessarily said it in a menacing way. When he joins her, he follows her lead by taking everything he wore off. He didn't want to look at her body for too long and become distracted like he often did when he saw her, especially when he really saw her. She had soft features and her body was always so pliant in his hands. Though, he couldn't allow his mind to wander right now.

  He gets in first, testing the water and making sure it was around the temperature they both liked before reaching for her hand and pulling her in gently. She expected him to keep some distance, so when he wrapped his arms around her from behind as they stood under the steady stream of water, she was a bit taken back. Was he being overly affectionate as a way to say goodbye? He places a few kisses to her shoulder before peeling himself away and grabbing her peach shampoo off the built-in shelf. She leans her head back to make sure her hair is all wet before allowing him to lather her hair with the sweet smelling soap for her. She always loved how he massaged her scalp with it.

  "So, I know you might think I wanted to talk about something bad, but I promise it's nothing bad. I just want you to know that before you start making scenarios up in your mind." He speaks softly, matching the pressure of his fingertips in her hair. He sees her shoulders sag and he feels awful. She'd already started thinking of potential issues he may have wanted to talk about. He carries on by rinsing the shampoo out and repeating, creating a much foamier lather the second time around. He rinses it out for her by guiding her beneath the waterfall, following up with the peach conditioner.

  "What do you want to talk about?" She whispers, enjoying the feeling of Harry's hands moving lower with her wash rag, scrubbing her limbs delicately as to not harm her skin.

  "Well... you. You know how much I love you, yeah? Can't fuckin' live without you, you know? Hurts me when we're apart for too long, or when we have to sleep alone. I, um... I just want you to be happy," he sighs. He prattled on a bit; his thoughts were jumbled and he didn't know how else to tell her this.

 "I want to be able to know you're okay when I'm not with you, even if I want to be with you always. I know you're going through a rough spot right now, and I want you to have help. More help than just me," he's as gentle as he can be, and she appreciates it. It doesn't mean she wants to cry any less, of course, but she knows he has the purest intentions.  

  He wants her to thrive, not just survive. He knew he could only do so much for her before she had to start doing things for herself. He loved to baby her and take care of her, but not when he had to. He wanted to help her shower sometimes and feed her because he wanted to, not because she wouldn't do it herself if he didn't.

 "Are you saying you want me to find a therapist?" She asks softly. She's not opposed to the idea, she just never found the strength to actually care enough about her own mental well-being to make an appointment. 

  "Are you okay with that? Would you be open to it if I helped you find someone to talk to? And maybe try medication? I know it's a lot at first, but it helps so many people. Just can't keep seeing you so sad. Hurts my soul, since we share the same one." He turns her around now to look at her property while they spoke. He could see the furrow in her brow, like someone was pinching them together with their fingers. 

 He saw the tears welling up in her eyes and his heart nearly explodes at the pout forming on her face. This isn't what he wanted to happen. He didn't want to make her cry. Her chin trembles as she tries her hardest to look anywhere but at his face.

  "Oh, baby," he coos, wrapping her up in his arms once more, "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry, m'love," he kisses the top of her head, peppering them all around wherever he could reach. "M' just worried, baby. When I came in earlier it looked like you- I just, I can't imagine what I would do if-" he's slightly panicked now, she can feel his heart picking up it's pace. She didn't know that was something he worried about with her and it made her whole body ache.

  "You didn't. It wasn't that. I would really appreciate if you could help me find someone to help me further. I'm crying because I'm hurting you when I don't deserve you in the first place," she sniffles, pressing her face further into the slippery skin of his neck. "You deserve someone who's whole, someone who you don’t have to worry about."

  "Hey," he pulls back from her, holding both her shoulders so he can look her in the eyes, "I love you. So much that I'd die without you at this point. Just told you that. Please don't put thoughts and words into my mouth. I mean everything I say to you, don't let your brain fool you into thinking it's not true. When I tell you I love you, please know I mean that with everything I have and everything I am. I'm not whole without you. I worry because I love you so much that it would kill me to lose you," His voice is soft yet firm all at once, conviction filling his tone.

  "Promise?" She asks weakly, knowing what he's telling her is the truth. Her brain tended to sabotage her.

  "I promise." He kisses her lips, backing her underneath the water once more to rinse her off before reaching behind her to shut off the water. He steps out before her, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her short body.

 "I'm going to make something for us to eat, angel. Come sit with me at the counter so I don't get lonely?" He asks once they're both dressed. He wore her sweatpants and t-shirt while she wore his Christmas themed pyjama pants with his Spice World hoodie.

 "You want me to?" She can't help but wonder why he wants her to be around him so much. She knew he loved her and they'd been dating for almost four years, but she found herself to be a buzzkill. She just exuded sadness, she thought. Harry scoffs at her playfully, rolling his eyes. He knew she couldn't help but doubt herself, but he still found it absurd. Of course he'd want to be around her all of the time. She was so accepting and loving, even if she didn't think so. She was good.

"Obviously, angel. Always want you within two feet of me. As a matter of fact, I wish you were pocket-sized so I could bring you everywhere with me until you got sick of seeing my big dumb head." He smirks at her, making her genuinely laugh. She hadn't done that in a while.

 "You're such a dramatic nutter." She laughs, pushing him away from her so she could walk into the kitchen to find a stool to occupy.

 "Me!? Were you not the one that cried because you couldn't stop thinking about The Hunger Games?" He comes in behind her, smacking her ass playfully in retaliation of her push before quickly walking at least an arms distance away from her.

"That's literally not fair? Finnick deserved so much better than that. You cried when we watched it together too, fucker!" She explains even more dramatically than he had been in the first place, as if he hadn't been there too. He chuckles as he opens her refrigerator, kissing his teeth when he finds nothing defrosted to cook. All she really had was oat milk, a bottle of homemade cold brew and a few cups of yoghurt.

"Fair enough. I'm going to take this chicken down so we can make it tomorrow, but since there's nothing else, do you wanna do Japanese?" Kicking the door closed as he walks closer to her with two water bottles in hand.

"You know I can never say no to Japanese. I'll order it," she offers, but he's already shaking his head with his phone in hand.

"It's on me. We're eating food you bought tomorrow, s'only fair. I wanna know what else you could never say no to? Like maybe... moving in with me?" He says without looking up as he places the order, already having her favourite meal saved on his phone, along with his own.

 At first, she doesn't react. She doesn't move a single muscle, not even her eyes. He doesn't take her stunned silence personally, waiting for her to process what he'd just offered. He can practically see the cogs turning when he looked at her.

"You want me... to live with you... in your big beautiful mansion of a house..." She says slowly, turning her gaze to his own. He exhales a laugh at the flabbergasted expression on her face.

"Yes, baby. Told you I'd bring you everywhere with me, and we've been together almost 4 years, known each other 6. I don't know about you but I'm ready to wake up to your face every day." He smirks once more, reaching out to tucker her hair behind her ear like he always did. He just wanted to see more of her pretty face.

"You- I... Harry. You know what? Yeah. I will." She had began to refuse before catching herself. This was a normal next step in a long term relationship. She wouldn't sabotage this. She was a better version of herself when she was with him, and they made each other happy. 

"Yeah? You will? I'm so happy baby, thank you. I'm tired of waking up alone and missing you every day. It's dumb." He tackles her in a hug, attacking her with a million kisses. He doesn't bother holding back the few happy tears he sheds, he doesn't care and he knows she doesn't either.

—

  He had proposed to her the day she moved in, after she unpacked her last bedroom item and found a place for it. It was the silly green dragon, who now lived between two puffy pillows on their shared bed. He'd had the ring burning a hole in his dresser for over a year and he couldn't stand it anymore once he saw how at home she'd made herself. That, and he wanted to make love to her while she wore the sparkling diamond.

Something about the visual prompted him to drop to his knee behind her instantly.

  It had been a year since she moved into Harry's “big beautiful mansion of a house”, and they were happier than ever. She was seeing a therapist that she enjoyed, someone whom she felt comfortable with. She had also begun taking medication. The first few prescriptions weren't right, but Harry encouraged her to keep trying different things and held her hand along the way. She finally found the one that matched her chemistry, and it worked a treat. She could focus on things better, and she had the energy to do so many things that she would even go on the occasional run with Harry. It was amazing for him to see her in such high spirits. It was like the her that only he could see was finally free, brightening up the world around her. More importantly, she could finally see herself that way, too.

A few months after she said yes, he had said something to her that she couldn't shake.

"Wanna make babies with you."

  He'd said it to her in passing, staring at her with hearts in his eyes as she sat on the grass in the garden. The sun was hitting her skin so beautifully and she just looked so radiant. He couldn't help it. It had just slipped out.

  She brushed it off at the time, but now it was all she could think about. She had even told her therapist about it. While the older woman seemed excited for her, she still asked if that was something she'd want. If she'd even thought about it.

  And truthfully, she had thought about it before. A lot. She's thought about Harry rubbing her tummy, kissing it and singing. She's thought about them falling asleep together when the baby is finally born. She's thought about how much of a daddy's girl they'd have, if it turned out to be a girl. She's thought about how if he babies her this much, she would love to see how much he'd baby their real baby. She's thought about how much she and Harry would love their shared creation. She’s thought about how much more love it could bring into their lives.

  She'd arrived home from a session one day after work to find Harry peacefully reading on the couch in the soft yellow light of their living room. She took a moment to admire him from this perspective before making her presence known. Jingling her keys a bit harder than usual, making his head turn in time to watch as she hangs them up before shedding her coat and walking over to the back of the couch.

 "Hello, my love." She coos, rubbing her flat palms against his chest. She kisses the side of his face a few times and he grabs hold of her hands, clutching her closer and enjoying her warmth.

 "Hi, lover. How was today? Work was alright?" He lets her hands go with a kiss so he can dog-ear's his page before shutting his book, giving her his undivided attention. She rounds the couch and decides to sit on his lap, looping her arms around his neck. His hands automatically shift to hold her waist.

"Work was the same. People are obnoxious and rude. What can I do? Session went well too. Talked about something I've been thinking about a lot." She looks down at him, tracing her finger subconsciously against the silver chain he never took off. She can't help but smile at how pretty her lover is, making him reflect the same expression.

 "Want me to go down there and give them a talking to? You know I'd do it." He glares playfully, furrowing his brows and puffing his chest. She laughs softly at his silly demeanour. It's one of the things she loves the most about him.

 "Shut up. Annoying," She laughs, hiding her face in his neck. He laughs with her, dropping a hand to one of her thighs to smack it lightly for her comment, ultimately choosing to leaving it resting there.

"That's you. Anyway, what did you talk about? Is there something bothering you?" He asks, ignoring the way her brow raises at him for calling her the annoying one. They had such a lighthearted relationship. It filled them both with joy.

 "We talked about something you said to me a while ago." She says, tone short. He couldn't tell if she was angry or if she was being shy about something.

 "Well? I'd love to hear what I said that you're still thinking about months later and talkin’ to your therapist about, baby." The hand that lay stationery on her thigh squeezed a bit, encouraging her to talk to him.

 "You said something about making a baby with me. Haven't been able to stop thinking about it." She muttered, biting her lower lip. His whole body went rigid beneath her at that.

 "You've been thinking about it this whole time and didn't say anything?" He questions softly, looking up at her with loving eyes. She nods her head, looking off to the side to gather her thoughts.

"Yeah. I... I really want that, Harry. I already promised to love you forever when I said yes, and you make me so much better. I can't imagine how amazing you'll be as a father. I, um, I also stopped taking my birth control a few days ago." She spoke with confidence. She knew this was what she wanted, and she could tell he did too. There was something in the way she spoke about it that made him stand with her in his arms.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to put a baby in you?" He speaks boldly, almost matter of fact. He wasn't asking, he was confirming. She says nothing, choosing instead to nod furiously.

 He beams at her, bringing her all the way to their bedroom before sitting her delicately on the bed. She rolled her eyes at that; it's not like she was already pregnant. He catches the look and reaches to her shoulder to shove her on the bed with an eye roll of his own.

"Better?" He mocks, grinning from ear to ear at her shocked expression. He takes his shirt, that was actually her shirt, off along with his joggers before clambering on top of her.

"You're such a knobhead." She laughs, taking off her own shirt. She didn't feel like waiting.

"A knobhead that you want to come in you. A knobhead that you want to father your children!" He exclaims jokingly. She can't help the grin on her face, pulling his chin until their lips met. Her grin evaporates when she feels him practically rip her skirt off, alongside her flimsy thong. She gasps at the feeling of his fingers on her, rubbing over her slit ever so gently. Feeling how wet she was for him.

"Were you thinking about this on your way home? You're fucking drenched." His voice had lost all sense of humour, acquiring a certain gravel to it that only served to make her wetter. She only nods, kissing his lips in a pleading sort of way.

"You want my baby this bad, huh? Want me to make you a mummy? Want to make me a daddy? S' that it, angel?" She couldn't take it anymore. The sound of his voice was driving her insane and she had checked if she was ovulating this morning and found out she was. It was like her body was demanding for him.

  "Yes! Yes, lover. Please? Want it so bad," Harry felt his heart warm at the tone of her voice. He knew they called each other lover in bed when they were feeling too romantic, too lost to the moment. In a good way. She was truly desperate to try for a little person with him. Quickly, he rolls them over so she's sat atop him once more. He kisses her immediately, bringing his hand down to dip his fingers into her now sopping wet hole.

  She choked on a gasp as she felt him slide two in, curling them at the joint to apply pressure exactly where he knew she needed it. He took advantage of her head falling back, attacking her neck with tender love bites and kisses. His other hand roamed around her stomach and back for a bit before reaching for her chest, tweaking her nipple between two slender fingers. Her jaw dropped when she felt his thumb land on her clit, circling hard and fast.

  "God, Harry! Fuck," she could hardly breathe at the efforts her lover was putting in. "Yes! Yes," her praise was quiet, but it fuelled him regardless.

  He was always an attentive lover, but something about his actions were nearly feral. Like he couldn't get enough, no matter how much she gave him. He would always want more of her. More sound, more taste, more feeling. He wanted her to always evade and overwhelm his senses. He moans at her noises, along with the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

  "C'mon, lover. Come so I can put our baby in ya," he breathes against her neck, licking any patches of skin he can reach. Her eyes roll back at his words, crying out for both him and God.

"Tha's it, lover. Good girl," he whispers huskily, slowing the movement of his fingers and moving the other hand to hold her body even more tightly against his. When he can feel her body shuddering, he pulls his fingers from her and sticks them in his mouth, sucking them clean in a filthy way.

  "Please put our baby in me," she requests in a small voice with a smile, tears streaking down her cheeks. She was so overwhelmed by him and by the prospect of what they were doing that she started crying happy tears. His smile is worth everything to her in that moment, pulling his face up for a kiss.

  "Yeah, lover. I'll do that," his voice is tender, like his touch. He kisses her as he lays her body beneath him again, stopping for a moment to take in her form. Her body was so gentle and relaxed after he'd made her feel good, and he couldn't help but kiss her tummy. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her hair was starting to frizz, but she'd never looked better.

  This wasn't by any means the first time they'd had sex without a condom but it was, however, the first time they'd done it without her taking birth control.

The rational part of their minds knew it wouldn't physically feel any better, but they couldn't help the buzz around them at the thought.

   He kisses her neck lightly as he grasps himself, tugging a few times to make sure he was nice and hard for her. He knew he was already rock solid, but he wanted to be extra sure. This was important. When he pushes into her, his eyes roll to the back of his head. She grits her teeth at the feeling of being so full of her lover, digging her nails into his side.

  He pushes the rest of the way in, taking a pause there for a moment. He could tell he was pressed against her in a delicious way from the look on her face. His hips started to create a rhythm they could both enjoy; deep and hard, slow and passionate. They were making love, after all.

  "G'na be the best mum, fuck, I know it," he pants into her ear, leaning his body further into hers. She whines into his hair, lifting her hips off the bed to get closer to him, even if it wasn't possible.

  "You're- oh my god, fuck! You're gonna be the best dad, you already take, oh shit, take such good care of me. Such a good lover,” she can tell her voice sounds fucked out, but hell if she gave a fuck. He squeezes her hand in response, kissing her neck again. He felt himself get hotter at her words. The way their bodies collided could be heard in the thick air around them, filling their ears with beautiful music.

She could hear it in the way he moaned in her ear that he was so close. She was, too, just at the thought of him filling her up with possibly more than just nut. They could get a baby out of this. Her eyes roll back as she practically howled in pleasure.

“Please come, please I wanna feel it,” she begged as she lost her mind, repeating her chant.

“Oh my fuck, yeah, baby. Finish for me first, lover. Good fucking girl,” he praises her, kissing along her collarbones as he fucked her through her orgasm. He was so close he could practically taste it, but he had to say something first.

“I love you, angel. I’m gonna love you forever.” His words are broken up between moans in her ear, making her cry out with him. She was so sensitive that when he let go and shot into her, she came again.

  He could barely move once he was spent, dropping his weight to his elbows and laying on top of her chest, which was moving rapidly along with his own.

  He kisses the skin beneath him as she plays with his hair, both too dazed to say anything.

She’s the first to break their silence when she tells him she loves him too.

“‘M bloody glad you love me too, or else it would be pretty awkward for us to have a baby together.” He mutters sarcastically, not even having the energy to lift his head. It was like she sucked out his soul and he needed 2 to 5 business days to get back to being functional. She’d have to call Jeff and let him know the bad news.

“You’re a dork. But, I wouldn’t choose anyone else to do this with. You helped me through the worst days and showed me what I could be. I owe you everything.” She cards her fingers through his hair, speaking softly.

“I resent that, firstly. But I’m proud I get to be this person for you. You’re everything to me, so you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just happy that you’re getting help for yourself. It’s not an easy thing to do, and I’m proud of you. Extremely fucking proud.” He had turned his head to where his chin was poking at her tummy so he could look at her face.

“I’m happy I took your advice. Outsourcing help doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong. It shows that you can pull yourself up and realise you have a problem, you know?” She tries to explain it, but he knows. He’d been telling her all along. He even went to therapy.

“Yeah, baby. I’m happy you’re here with me.” He says, and she knows he meant here, alive, not just here with him at that moment. She holds onto him a little bit tighter.

“I’ll always be here. I need you too much to go anywhere”

~

IF you can help support the blog, I have a Ko-Fi page :) 

PS if you’re sexy, reblog this :o

[a-room-of-my-own]

Another thing I believe radical feminism should get rid off is that bras (and corsets if we talk about historical fashion) are oppressive. Besides the fact that they are literally just clothing, men and women just have different anatomies it's normal that some women would need extra support. There are million things is fashion that are a sign of sexism but bras isn't one

I wasn't aware there was a huge bra debate. I don't need bras (small boobs privilege 😉) and I do think that we should be able to go braless without being oggled at, or to go to the beach topless. Name a better feeling than swimming topless! It's amazing.

For corsets they were definitely oppressive, and we only got rid of them when medicine became advanced enough to point out the multiple health issues that came with wearing them. Without going too far back, my great grandmother, who was born in 1910, wore corsets her whole life, because at some point she just couldn't be without. She'd had 7 children, and she had no abdominal muscles left, or enough muscle for back support. All that from wearing corsets that gave her an artificial posture. If she didn't wear one she was just in pain, and her belly never went back to normal after her pregnancies.

She was not a leisure woman, but obviously back then, women didn't have much physical activity to speak of. So corsets contributed to and compensated the lack of physical strength. For richer women, tight-lacing was a thing, the worst period being the late 19th century where the most fashionable corset was the S-shaped corset, that gave you a completely unnatural posture that just messed up your back.

It's the same for breasts. Your breasts have muscles that can support them. If you wear bras the minute your breasts start to develop, these muscles never work, and so without a bra you're in pain. I actually stopped wearing bras for 3 months about 2 years ago just to see how it would turn out. Well I was in pain! With breasts that are like, half a cantaloupe each. After a few weeks the pain stopped, the muscles had finally started working. Basically I had created the problem by thinking I needed support in the first place.

And it wasn't only about corsets, if you have the occasion to look at old shoes, for example dating from the 1930's-1940's you'll see they're much thinner that shoes we wear today. Women's feet were also compressed in thin shoes while growing up, so they wouldn't get large feet. My feet are small in length, but I would never be able to fit a pair from the 1940's because I grew up wearing comfortable shoes.

Physical activity and not being obliged to hide our bodies behind padded clothing really helps getting enough muscle strength to support ourselves. Many women in the world, just look at the history of fashion, have never wore anything close to a supporting garment and are living just fine.

So without burning everything close to a bra or small shoes, knowing the history behind it is interesting.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph!

Any chance you've got any fics where John and Sherlock come out publicly (an AU or just canon)? For some reason I just adORe the tension

Anyway, thanks for everything you do on your blog, it's hugely appreciated!

Hey Lovely!!

Ahhhh Hmm I thought I had a list for this but apparently not, oof. 

Here’s what I can offer you with my tags in my bookmarks and MFL’s! Feel free to add some, y’all if you have any I missed!

COMING OUT

See also: 

Homophobia / Sexuality / Pride || [John’s Sexuality]

John’s Friends Find Out About Sherlock

John’s Internalized Homophobia

Ex by Itsallfine (T, 1,248 w., 1 Ch. || Angsty Fluff, Love Confessions, Coming Out, Exes, First Kiss, Fake Relationship, Getting Outed) – One night, in the midst of their post-case high and on the cusp of something more, John and Sherlock run into John’s ex. His ex-boyfriend.

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

The Pieces That Fall to Earth by Itsallfine (M, 49,513 w., 84 Ch. || S4 Fix-It, Epistolary, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Parentlock, Past Abuse, Coming Out, Internalized Homophobia, Questioning Sexuality, Mental Health Issues / Therapy, Angst, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock have hit rock bottom, but with all their armor stripped away, they can finally speak honestly, seek healing, and find the truths that matter most. An epistolary post-s4 fix-it fic. Now complete. (This fic is rated T except for one very clearly marked and easily skippable chapter, which is rated M.) Part 1 of The Pieces that Fall to Earth

Performance In a Leading Role by Mad_Lori (E, 156,714 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Hollywood / Actor AU, Secret Relationship, Falling in Love, Slow Burn, Romance, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Pining) – Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world? Part 1 of Performance in a Leading Role

MARKED FOR LATER

About Being Gay by A_Candle_For_Sherlock (G, 1,088 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, First Kiss, Romantic Fluff, Older Rosie) – Rosie looks up from Sherlock’s picture book about poisonous plants, gives Sherlock a look and asks, 'Are you gay, Sherlock?' and Sherlock, without missing a beat, just says 'Yes,' and continues drinking his tea, and Rosie says 'Ah,' and goes back to her plant book, and John nearly doubles over in the corner.

A Regular not at all Terrifying-for-unknown-reasons Conversation by Dodoa (T, 5,506 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Unilock, Best Friends, Coming Out, Self-Discovery, Dialogue Heavy, Self Acceptance) – Sherlock is trying to work something out and goes to John for help. John might not have all the answers, but he's determined to help.

Still alive by LoLecter (M, 8,375 w., 1 Ch. || Teenlock AU || Trans!Sherlock, Suicide Attempt, Overdose, Friends to Lovers, Coming Out, Bisexual Character, Fluff, Transphobia, Asshole Parents, Big Brother Mycroft) – Sherlock has known he was transgender for a while now and he decides to come out to his parents, but they react badly and Sherlock end up trying to kill himself only to be saved by his best friend John who doesn't know anything about Sherlock being trans.

Isolated by CarmillaCarmine (G, 8,549, 6/7 Ch. || WiP || Quarantine From Virus, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Bi-Panic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Coming Out, Bathing/Washing, Bubble Bath, Kissing) – Due to an ongoing pandemic, John and Sherlock find themselves isolated at 221B.

Who I Really Am by agirlsname (T, 13,067 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE [1] or [2] || Post S4, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Grief/Mourning, POV John, Pining, Sexuality Crisis, Alcoholism, Internalized Homophobia, Angst With Happy Ending) – You don't tend to give up your heterosexual privilege without a fight.

Coming Out by LiviKate (M, 13,439 w., 5 Ch. || Teenlock, Homophobia, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Oral Sex, Drunk John, Bisexual John, Teen Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Reconciliation, Arguing) – John has had feelings for his best friend for a very long time. Feelings he knows will never be returned. When John goes out to drown his sorrows in booze and girls, he finds himself falling into bed with a man for the first time instead. John doesn't expect Sherlock to think much of it, as he had never cared either way about people's sexualities. But when Sherlock finds out, things go downhill quickly, leaving John confused and alone. Can the two friends come back together after such an explosive coming out? If they do, will it be like before? Or might it be so very, very different?

Straight Boy Pain by Glenmore (NR, 18,257 w., 10 Ch. || Coming Out, Pain, Romance, Birds, Sexuality) – Sherlock is in pain. Billy Kinkaid, the Camden garroter and best man Sherlock knows, diagnoses it. Ademar Silver, a male prostitute in south London, attempts to treat it. Lestrade, kindly Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard, doesn’t notice it. Eventually, John Watson, healer and registered medical doctor, cures it. And a beautician called Penny paints Sherlock’s toenails.

The Lying Doctor by pagimag (E, 44,285 w., 20 Ch.  || S4 Fix It, Hurt/Comfort, Past Alcohol/Drug Abuse, Anger Issues, Depressed John, Watson Siblings, Coming Out, Bi John, First Time, Dom/Sub Undertones, Parentlock, Internalized Homophobia, Past Child Abuse, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock and John's relationship is fragile after the events at Culverton Smith’s hospital. John struggles with guilt and anger issues. During a case he decides to visit his aunt, which leads to an unexpected development. He’s forced to reevaluate ingrained behaviours, confront long lasting issues and question how he leads his life.

In Bed by Ellipsical (E, 46,922 w., 12 Ch. || Autofellatio, Vibrators, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Liminal Identities, Christmas, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Fingering, Jealous John, Therapy, Flirting, Texting, Fluff, Sherlock’s Violin, Anal, Est. Rel., Semi-Public Sex, Harry Watson, Communication, Coming in Pants, Spitroasting, Double Penetration, Dirty Talk, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, Happy Ending, PTSD John, Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – It’s almost Christmas, John thinks, and this, this is bullshit. The epilogue to Guilty Secrets. Part 2 of Guilty Secrets

NO! by Tildathings (M, 50,043 w., 36 Ch. || Homophobia, Bed Sharing, Military Uniforms, Past Abuse, Jealous John, Stalking, Violence, First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Coming Out, Sherlock’s Past, Shower, Cuddling, Grief and Sorrow, Hugs, Character Death) – Sherlock has been in a coma in over 8 months after he overdosed on the plane at TAB, during which time Mary and Rosie were killed by Vivian Norbury.  This story starts 3 weeks after Sherlock has woken up. John is asking to move back to Baker Street.

What have you done? by Tildathings (M, 63,940+ w., 17/? Ch. || WiP || Interenalized Homophobia, John’s Family, Coming Out, Sherock/OMC, Hugging, Suicide, John Deduce’s, Nightmares, Love Confession, First Date, Bed Sharing, Psychiatry) – John have been invited by Sherlock on a pub night?! Sherlock said to him at Monday that Greg and Mike wanted him to come with them on a pub night. Sherlock is afraid that he would do something wrong socially left alone, so could John come with him? When John arrives at the pub Two Broken Hearts he sees Sherlock talking to a man.

A Change of Heart by SosoHolmesWatson (E, 65,436 w., 20 Ch. || Post-S4 / Canon Compliant, Jealous Sherlock, Past Abuse, Parentlock, Dev. Rel., Idiots in Love, Suicidal Sherlock, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Mollstrade, Coming Out, Love Confessions, Big Brother Mycroft, John’s Childhood, POV Alternating, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Hand Jobs) – After all they have been through, after all the heartbreak and desolation, John and Sherlock want to make their way back to each other, still convinced that friendship is all that can exist between them. Will there be a change of heart? Part 1 of the The Pains of Growing series

Worst Kept Secrets by Sherlock1110 and sherlockian4evr (M, 61,515+w., 8/? Ch. || WiP || Engagement, Coming Out, Angst and Feels, Homophobia, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Fluff, Scars, Weddings, Honeymoon, Playing Pirates, Parasailing, Archaeology, Paintball, Swimming, Golf) – For the prompt: What if the thing Mycroft did to upset Mummy... was to come out? What if, as a teenager, Mycroft decided to tell his family that he is gay, and his parents disowned him for it? It's okay now, he runs the British Government, he IS the British Government, but there's still that tiny part of him that wants his parent's acceptance, especially now he's found the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Part 4 of the Sherlock and Mycroft Fluff series

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,235 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite.

Full Court Press by MissDavis (E, 126,123 w. || College Basketball AU || Unilock, Masturbation, Homophobia, First Kiss / Time, Oral/Anal, Coming Out, Switchlock, Blowjobs) – Sherlock Holmes has accepted a scholarship to play basketball at the College of St. Bartholomew's. He expects to be their star player and turn the team's losing record around. He does not expect to fall in love with the team's captain, a certain scrappy point guard named John Watson. Or: Sherlock is the team's best shooter. John is the team's best ball-handler.

Nine and a Half Weeks by CumberCurlyGirl and Kameo (E, 175,094+ w., 35/? Ch. || WiP || American AU || Different First Meeting, Daddy Kink, Bottomlock, Anal Plug, Riding Crops, Spanking, Light Bondage, Anal/Oral, Aftercare, Posh John, Virgin Sherlock, Homophobia, Sugar Daddy John, Rimming, Coming in Pants, Light Dom/Sub, Past Sherlock / Victor, Light BDSM, Public Sex, John in a Kilt, Vibrators, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is about to graduate from high school in midwestern America. Despite his intelligence, his prospects are bleak due to poverty, an indifferent, alcoholic father and poor choices. One day, at work, he sells a riding crop to a handsome blonde Brit and his life is changed. He doesn't know what hit him - until he does. This is a story of a journey to love and self-acceptance and explores many themes along the way: drug abuse, grief, coming out, age difference, consent. Lots of sex but so much more.

Of Ice and Men by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 176,906 w., 20 Ch. || Olympics AU || Paralympics, Prosthesis, Disability, Established Relationship, Threesome - Johnlockstrade, Angst with Happy Ending, Coming Out, Secret Relationship, Asexuall Sherlock, Pilot John) – Greg wants Sherlock to win his first Olympic Gold medal. Sherlock wants John to win his first Olympic Gold medal. John wants Greg to come to bed wearing all four of his Olympic Gold medals, and you didn't really think this would be that terribly serious after reading that title, did you? Bundle up, it's a Winter Olympics OT3!

Radioactive Trees In A Red Forest by Maribor_Petrichor (E, 280,251 w., 73 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Suicidal Ideations, Alcohol / Rx Drug Abuse, Coming Out / Bisexual John, Seizures, Past/Referenced/Implied Child Abuse, Hallucinations, Rehab, Celibacy, Sobriety / Relapse, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Psychological Trauma, Nice /Not Anti-Mary, John’s POV, Parentlock, First Time, Angst, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending) – John Watson is what happens when a man can no longer see a reason to go on. John Watson is what happens when a man starts to let go. "It is what it is." John Watson is what happens when what "it is" becomes too much to bear. This is a story of the life, death, and resurrection of John Hamish Watson.

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 3

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m doing basically double of what I had planned for this part bc it’s been so long since I updated~

Word Count: 6,060

Warnings: Blood; Angst; A wolf attack; Some medicinal references; Mental health issues  

Posted: 23 Dec 2020

Masterlist

Previous Next

Once YN gets into the groove of creation, she doesn’t stop until she’s either almost pissing herself, or so hungry/thirsty she’s about to faint. YN has never known how to do things like this in moderation, and if she was actually being honest with herself she really should have had someone else there to make sure she takes breaks and actually ends up eating and drinking and taking care of herself in the ways that every human needs to. 

But instead, she stayed there, hunched over the too-large desk in a too-large chair, surrounded by too-large wolves, completely ignoring her basal instincts in favor of destroying her spine and having words flow from her finger tips. She’s so caught up in the world and characters she’s created, that she doesn’t even notice when the grey wolf leaves his post, with one of the brown ones taking his place. She doesn’t notice the generally worrying sounds coming from outside her home, or the way the two brown wolves rush away. She doesn’t notice the way the black wolf stands guard, protectively standing between YN’s hunched form and the door, a snarl etched onto his beautiful-but-terrifying face. 

That is, she doesn’t notice any of these things until the other three wolves come crashing back into the house, the scent of blood heavy in the air. The black wolf growls, nudging YN and breaking her from her trance. Once she realizes what’s going on, or at least that someone’s hurt, YN immediately turns away from her computer, tripping over her own two feet in her rush to get out the door. 

She has no idea how long she’s been typing away, but her legs feel like jello and she’s slightly dizzy as she stands and subsequently falls. But the fall jolts her awake, the stinging in her knees seeming to bring all the feeling back into her legs all at once.

 Ignoring the pain, YN scrambles out and towards the back door, running into three wolves with bloodstained muzzles and paws. YN recoils, both from the strong scent and the terrifying sight of gigantic wolves with blood all over them, but before she can truly react, they push past her and right into the main bathroom. 

YN follows them, shocked and worried and in a daze, absently thankful that the house has such a large bathroom. She watches as the messiest of them, the grey wolf, steps quickly into the jacuzzi tub, before all their heads turn towards her. For a moment, she just stares back at them, but the black wolf behind her nudges her, pushing her forward, she walks into the bathroom, turning the water on and grabbing a washcloth. 

She mutters to herself about soap, absently grabbing the pet shampoo that she found under the sink and didn’t have the heart to throw out to try to help clean the blood, before she sits in the tub, taking one of the wolves huge paws into her hand. 

Nevermind the fact she’s sitting in water, or the fact that she could easily be killed right then and there by the huge beasts, she doesn’t process anything that’s going on. She doesn’t even try. 

Instead she works, cleaning paws and muzzles and coats, drying fur and addressing minor cuts and scrapes, sending the wolves away as she finishes with them so she can clean everything. It isn’t until she’s on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor with all her might to remove the bloody paw prints that lead from her door to the bathroom, that she really thinks about anything. 

That blood could have been from anything. From anyone. For all she knew, she was helping four wolves that could somehow talk in her head to her commit a murder. 

And so, she cried. 

On her hands and knees, in the bathroom that once belonged to her grandparents, then her uncle, and now her. 

She sobbed, collapsing down onto the floor, banging her fists against it in a way that she felt sure would hurt in the morning, but now only served to tether her to the moment. 

It couldn’t be real, could it? It felt real, sure, but was it? Really? 

But when her eyes cleared of tears, and the pain of sitting on her knees for too long combined with the sting of hitting the floor with too much strength were remembered, there were still the remnants of bloody paw prints on the floor. 

There were still four wolves watching her intently. 

And then there were three, two.

And then only the black wolf remained, his eyes following her as she did what she needed to in order to put her house back in order. 

She was comforted, in a strange way, by the wolf. Her wolf. 

YN was working tirelessly to make sure everything was okay, that everything was normal, and still completely ignoring her body. 

Her knees hurt, both from her fall and from sitting on them for too long. Her fingers were stiff, her hands stinging. She was incredibly hungry, not having eaten much of anything in the past two days, and it wasn’t like she was drinking anything either. She felt dizzy, off kilter, light headed. And to top it all off, her back felt like it might as well have been on fire, with all the weird contortions she’d been doing for the past couple days. 

‘Rest.’ 

It was her wolf’s voice, breaking through the noise of her thoughts. 

“I’m not done here wolf. No rest.” She mumbles, but she’s sure he can hear her. 

‘Not a suggestion.’ 

His voice was stronger this time, and punctuated by a sharp growl. Suddenly, a paw bats the scrubber out of her hands, a muzzle pushing her over and onto the floor. 

‘Rest.’ 

YN let out a strangled sort of half sob, curling herself into a ball. She did need the rest, that wasn’t really up for dispute, but what she really wanted was not to have to be the one to take care of everything anymore. 

Slowly, the wolf nudges YN to the point she’s fully around again, and she slowly gets to her feet. She drags herself to her room and collapses onto her bed, not even bothering to pull the covers over herself, instead wrapping her arms around one of her pillows and giving in to the great need for rest. 

Later, she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone why she did what she did, or why she felt like there wasn’t any other choice for her. The memories of that night would always be fragmented for her, shattered into a million little pieces that didn’t really seem real. It was just too much. 

She could handle the blood, she could handle the injury, she could handle the talking in her brain. YN could handle all of it separately, she had no doubt about that. But together? Like this? That was more than she was able to understand. 

The worst part? It was too much for her to rationalize away. 

She had felt the soft fur of the wolves between her fingers, felt the sticky residue their rough tongues left on her hands, felt the weight of their heads resting on her. She had smelled the sharp scent of blood mixed with the comforting smell of the forest she loved so much, she had smelled the musky odor they left behind. She had heard their yelps and howls and growls, heard their voices floating around her mind in a way that was completely distinct from anything she had ever thought herself. She saw them as they stalked around her home, saw them as their beautiful eyes followed her from place to place. 

But still, she felt crazy. Insane. And it tore her up inside in a way she was wholly unprepared for. 

The wolf watches as she does all of this, knowing full well exactly the amount of mental anguish was running through her veins. Sometimes, he really hated their ability to read minds, seeing as it was usually just incredibly inconvenient, but it was at times like this he could see the bittersweet aspects of it. He knew, eventually YN would learn to protect her mind and he wouldn’t be able to see these things, but for the time being, he was completely free to access the raw, painful, heart wrenching emotions and traumas that pass through YN’s brain.

Slowly, the wolf planted the seeds of their return into her life, knowing that right now, the best thing would be to make sure they leave her and leave as little of their scent behind as possible. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her without any protection, but they knew that’s what they had to do. They’d never liked having to leave innocent people without anything to keep them from getting hurt. 

The wolf stalked over to the now sleeping human, softly nudging her hand one last time, before slipping out of her home with a practiced sort of light stealth. He would hang around outside until dawn, and then slink away into the forest to join back up with the rest of his pack.

~~~~~

In the next couple months, YN fell back into her usual routine, with only one big change, surprisingly. 

After she woke up alone that first day, YN tried to rationalize what had happened to her. She had been hallucinating, or hadn’t been sleeping enough, or took one too many walks in the woods and let her imagination get the better of her, or- well, something like that at least. 

And those first few weeks, YN was comfortable calling the experience a fever dream of some sort and leaving it at that. Life goes on. She still had deadlines to meet and a home to take care of. She still took walks in the woods, she still holed herself away to write, she still was learning how to can and preserve and experimenting with all the foods she never got to before. She was still happy, living in the large home alone, going weeks without talking to anyone else face to face, dodging questions from her mother. 

That was, at least, until they started showing up again. 

The wolves were back. Well, not back per se, not in the same way they were, but they were around. She would catch them out of the corners of her eyes, or look out her window and find the forest had gained a pair of eyes to spy on her, or she’d open up the back door and find a wolf lounging in a nice patch of sun between the forest and the door, always squarely centered on her favorite little path. 

Something in YN wanted to go over to them, wanted to talk to them, wanted to ask them a million questions about what happened, because if they weren't as real as they seemed, she was going batshit insane. 

She could see them, following her as she went from one place to the next in the forest she loved. She could hear them breaking twigs under their great weight every now and then. But they never got close to her. They never came up to her door, they never tried to get in, they never got close enough for her to look at them. 

It was frustrating for YN, sure, but she accepted them as beings that would just always be on the edge of her vision, watching from the shadows and seemingly keeping tabs on her. Every now and then she would call out and say this or that to them, but she would never get any sort of a response. 

In short, YN got used to having the figures in the corners of her eyes. She got used to the forest having eyes. She got used to the feeling of being watched by them, which surprisingly didn’t make her feel anything but safe. 

And so she fell right back into her routine, right back into everything she had been doing before the strange couple days, with only the small addition of eyes following her most of the time. 

But as she cooked and cleaned and wrote and weeded and went on her walks in the forest, it felt like something wasn’t quite right. It felt like there was something missing, though YN had no idea how to put something like that into anything resembling words. 

Instead, the feeling of loss and wrongness settled into the pit of her stomach as a sort of unwavering heaviness, making her feel slightly sick almost all the time, like the last day of a bad stomach bug. She didn’t even attempt to connect the dots between her deeply unsettled stomach and the disappearing of the wolves, or between the fact she felt slightly better when she was aware that one of the wolves was watching her, studying her. No, instead she just dealt with it, slowly eating less and less and working more and more, figuring she just needed to sleep it off or something. 

And she really didn’t connect the dots when two giant men showed up at her door, both of them the ethereal kind of pretty, and the pains that had seemingly antagonized her on and off for literal months up and disappeared. 

~~~~~

YN had woken up earlier than usual, not that she had really gotten that much sleep in the first place. She was tired, but honestly, she had more important things to worry about than if she was getting enough sleep or not. There were deadlines that were fast approaching, and her editor was sending her works back with more and more things to work on and correct.

She was in the process of making herself the strongest pot of coffee she could and scrounging around the fridge to make sure she had enough food for the rest of the day, when she heard a knock at the door. At first, she thought it was the front door, grumbling and setting things aside to deal with them in a minute, but just as she was passing the back door, the knocking came again, unmistakably from there. 

Brow furrowing in confusion, YN pivots on her heel and slides the back door open, half expecting to be murdered where she stood by some rogue escaped serial killer, on the loose and thirsting for blood. Instead she was met with two very tall, incredibly attractive men, both of whom had bright smiles on their faces. 

“Um, hi?” YN says, absently taking a step back so she can see up to their faces easier. 

“Hello! My name is Namjoon, and this is my partner, Seokjin. We were just in the area and saw your lights on, so we figured we would come and properly say hello and introduce ourselves.” The taller of the two men, Namjoon, spoke, and the other gave a bright smile and wave. 

“Please, call me Jin.” He says

“Oh um I’m YN, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” YN speaks very formally, unsure of what else to do. “Would you like to come in for some coffee? Maybe a bite to eat?” 

Her mouth works before she can think of what’s going on, but the two men gladly accept, and it’s not like she can take the offer back, so she sets about making them coffee, asking them questions about what kind of things they would like for their breakfast. 

It doesn’t take long for YN to feel much more comfortable, joking and laughing with the large men, getting to know them. In fact, the only thing she finds to be weird about them, other than their incredibly large size (which does nothing but make her feel small in a way she had never felt before), was the fact that neither of them had shoes. But YN, ever being the polite and courteous host, didn’t ask them about that, and purposefully put it out of her mind.

“So where are you two from? It must be a pretty nice place, judging by how you’re dressed.” YN asks almost absently, hoping up into one of the chairs around the dining table. For the life of her, she could never figure out why so many things seemed to just be sized up.

She almost misses how Namjoon and Jin share a glance with each other before answering, before Jin clears his throat, giving a small shake of his head. 

“We actually live on the other side of the woods. It’s pretty far, seeing as the whole thing is completely protected, but yeah, it’s a pretty nice place. We love it, and we get to live with the 5 people we love most in the world.” Seokjin speaks in a tone that expresses just how much love and adoration he holds for the people involved. 

“Oh that’s lovely! Are they children of yours?” YN asks, turning her head down to focus on stirring sugar and creamer into her coffee, completely missing the glance that is passed between Namjoon and Seokjin. 

“No, not really. I mean, we helped to raise them, but they’re all full grown adults.” Jin responds, looking to Namjoon to add anything he deemed to be important. 

“Yoongi and Hobi are older than me, so I would hope they aren’t our kids.” Namjoon chuckles, taking a bite of his food and letting out a small hum of appreciation. 

“So you’re just like a big happy family?” YN asks, a little lost in the swirling of the coffee before her, absently still asking questions. 

Jin and Namjoon both share a look, both of them knowing full well that YN wasn’t really paying that much attention to them, seeing as she was practically throwing her thoughts in their direction.

“Yeah, we really are. Some people don’t understand us, but that’s okay, not everyone understands how other people live.” Namjoon speaks again, softly smiling at the girl, who was still intently stirring her coffee. Despite the fact that he had only just formally met her, there was a sort of fondness growing in his chest for the girl. 

“That’s so sweet!” YN gushes, finally tearing her eyes away from the coffee and back up to the faces of her guests. “I’ve always wanted a family like that.” 

YN smiles widely at the men, settling in to talk to them about this and that, and honestly, she thoroughly enjoyed every second she spent with them. After months of not being able to eat right, she was finally able to put away an entire meal, plus coffee and water, without any difficulties. Plus, she was surprisingly happy to have contact with real people again, after so long living in what is basically isolation. 

When the men finally took their leave, after almost four hours that is, they promised they would be back soon, and that they would bring some of the other boys with them next time. YN laughed as she told them that she would be absolutely delighted to get to meet the people that she had now heard so many stories about, making them promise they wouldn’t be strangers before they finally disappeared. 

She noted, almost absently, that they walked right out the back door and down her favorite path in the forest, barefoot, but she was so happy at the fact that she had made friends with new people, that she chose to ignore that fact. 

In fact, she chose to ignore a lot of things after she took what was left of her coffee into the study, still intent on getting work done. It wasn’t two hours after they left that YN was back to having the same stomach pains she had grown so used to. 

Silently cursing herself, thinking it had to have been from drinking almost an entire pot of coffee after weeks of not sleeping correctly, not even attempting to consider that it was from anything other than that. Surely, it had to have been a complete coincidence that Jin and Namjoon were there during the time that she was actually feeling normal, right? And again, another coincidence that she started feeling worse after they left, right? Nothing else would have made any sort of sense, after all, and YN was great at rationalizing.

However, even someone as great at rationalizing as YN had to start putting the pieces together at some point. Despite this, YN was also incredibly stubborn and refused to think any of her issues were anything other than just the protests of a body that is used too often for things that it really shouldn’t be, and pushed towards, or past, limits that were not meant to be broken.

~~~~~~

Jin and Namjoon, on the other hand, were incredibly pleased with themselves. They now knew for sure that YN didn’t really know too much, and didn’t trust her overactive imagination enough to trust what she had seen and experienced fully. That part, at least, reassured them that she wasn’t going to turn them into any government officials. 

However, they were still incredibly confused. How could a clear Omega like YN not know anything? Sure, she hadn’t fully presented yet, but they could smell it off her a mile away, and that’s why Yoongi decided to trust her when she found him out in the woods. And yet, she was completely unprotected. There was no Alpha, no Beta, no pack looking out for her. 

And for whatever reason, they decided that they would have to at least make sure she didn’t die or fall into the wrong hands. At least, until the Beta that they had smelled around the premises came back to collect their Omega. 

But then one month passed. 

Two. 

Three. 

They didn’t see anyone else go into the house. Hell, they barely saw her leave! Everyday, the scent of a possible Beta got fainter and fainter, and they began to muse that maybe, just maybe, the Beta had just caught wind of the untethered Omega and tried to get in there for themself.

And so, the pack had decided it was time that they met her as people, and figured out what was actually going on. Despite everything, it hurt them to see the little Omega working herself so hard, in so much pain, so confused about what was going on. 

So Jin and Namjoon, ever looking out for their pack, made their way over to her home at dawn, waiting until they knew she was awake to go knock on the door. 

Immediately, they had their guard up, waiting for the telltale signs of an Omega probing into their minds, but nothing came. They went into her home, ate her food, drank her coffee and water, but most importantly, they talked. 

Jin was suspicious, going into it. He was sure that YN held some sort of ulterior motive, that she was going to ambush them or try to poison them, or… something. But seeing her standing at her door, absolutely minuscule by their standards, still blinking sleep from her eyes with confusion etched onto her features because of the early hour and the men she had never seen, he felt the same sort of gut feeling of trust that Yoongi had felt when he was lying in the woods. 

That Namjoon had felt when he decided it was fine for them to spend the day with YN, until Yoongi was well enough to travel home.

 That Jungkook and Taehyung had felt when they walked into her home and wanted to play, though they behaved on Namjoon’s order. 

Jin decided then and there that they had to protect YN, no matter the cost. And Namjoon, hearing his most trusted person’s utter trust of the girl, came to the same conclusion not a second later. YN was meant to be with them, they could feel it in their bones. They shared a glance, both of them hoping that she felt it too. 

Once the pair arrived back at the house, they were met with a bombardment of questions from the other five, especially Jimin and Hoseok, who hadn’t had the chance to meet YN in any way just yet. 

“Come on now hyung! Out with it! What’s your verdict?” Jimin almost whines as he bounces on his feet, wanting to go and meet YN himself. “I wanna meet her!” 

Jin and Namjoon share a glance, the kind that makes the rest of the boys pay attention, fearing that they had made a mistake, and YN wasn’t half as trustworthy as she seemed to be. 

“Well, we trust her. We think it was right to trust her, and right to let her help you, Yoongi.” Namjoon is the one that speaks, his tone serious despite the smile that breaks onto his features at the end of his sentence. 

“YN invited us to all come over sometime, preferably soon. She really is excited to meet all of you, after all the stories we told today.” Jin lets out his signature laugh as he nudges the man standing beside him, causing the boys standing before the two to celebrate. 

“When are we going then? We know she doesn’t have much of a schedule.” Yoongi speaks up as he flinches away from the loud celebration of Jimin and Hoseok beside him, affection in his gaze, despite the look of disgust lighting up his face. 

“Actually, I was thinking we would go this weekend. But, knowing you lot, you’d eat everything she’s ever made and ask for more. So, Yoongi, I was wondering if you’d come with me on Friday to prepare everything for Saturday.” Jin speaks again, moving himself and Yoongi away from the commotion that was slowly gaining traction among the younger members. 

“Of course Hyung. Honestly, I’ve been missing YN, in a weird way. She was so amazingly sweet to me when I was hurt. She really did save my life, at the end of the day. I’m glad that you agree with my original assessment.” Yoongi speaks in that low tone he tends to use when he really means what he’s talking about, and Jin just smiles at him. 

“I can understand why. YN’s first thought after assessing us to not be psycho-rapist-murders, was to invite us in to eat. It seems like a theme with her, to see us and want to make sure we are eating properly.” Jin chuckles as Yoongi smiles in appreciation, thankful that Jin didn’t take the opportunity to make fun of him.

The rest of the week is spent with Jin and Yoongi brainstorming what to make. They knew that they would have to take quite the car trip in order to get to YN’s with all the groceries that they would need in order to make enough to feed all seven of the wolves, plus YN. With their higher body temperature came a faster metabolism, which meant, as a result, that they ate a ton as a group.

Once they did finally settle on something that was filling, not super complicated to make, and easy to store, the pair gathered everything they needed, ready and waiting for Friday. 

Friday morning rolled around, and Yoongi was strangely nervous. He was thankful to Jin for giving him the opportunity to spend a little bit of time with YN in a more personal setting, where he could show off his cooking skills and where his more reserved personality wouldn’t be completely overshone by the boisterous boys he called his pack. At the same time, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that she was going to hate everything about him, that whatever connection he felt to her when he was healing was completely one sided and because of his wolf form, not because of him in any way. 

As the pair packed up the car, Jin noticed just how distracted Yoongi seemed, but decided not to ask him about it until they were safely in the car, away from prying ears.

 Namely, the ears of Jimin and Taehyung, ever the troublesome twins, who were currently trying to figure out a way to stow away in the back without Jin or Yoongi finding them out. Clearly, that was doomed to fail, seeing as Yoongi stood and watched as they made their plan, shaking his head at the antics, getting ready to scold them, despite the smile on his face.

“Boys, please. Go back inside. YN will be ready and willing to see you tomorrow, don’t worry.” Jin brushes past Yoongi as he takes both boys by the collar, dragging them out of the back of the vehicle and shooing them away, despite their chorus of cries in protest. 

Yoongi shakes himself out of his reprieve, sliding into the passenger's seat without a second thought. 

He almost jumps out of his skin when Jin opens the door, again trying to shake himself of the anxious spiral of self doubt that threatens to suck him into it’s incredibly rude clutches.  

“Seatbelt.” Jin prompts softly, pointedly looking at the mirrors instead of his friend, making minor adjustments to them. Yoongi scoffs, knowing full well that a car crash wouldn’t really hurt either of them, but after a pointed look from Jin, he complies.

With a mumbling of thanks and the click of a seatbelt, the car falls into silence. It isn’t until Jin makes the suggestion that Yoongi turn on some music, maybe something he’d been working on, that Yoongi seems to fully break out of the aforementioned spiral. 

“Hyung, this one you’ll like. I’ve been trying out this new style with…” Jin hums in appreciation as Yoongi starts rambling on about the technicalities of the music he had been working on recently, thankful to get the man talking again. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Yoongi did better when he wasn’t thinking about himself, and instead had something else to focus on. 

The rest of the car ride was spent with Yoongi showing off his music, Jin listening and asking questions when needed. Honestly, both of them loved this sort of calm, collected sharing of information. They are fishing partners for a reason, after all. 

When the pair finally pull into YN’s driveway, they immediately pull around back so they can be closer to the kitchen with their things. YN is out in the garden, dutifully tending to the plants that her uncle loved so much. If they weren’t able to read her every thought, the boys would have assumed she didn’t even notice their vehicle pulling around her house, but they knew that she was acutely aware of the fact that they were there. 

Absently, YN wipes her hands on the leggings she had thrown on, trying to get at least a bit of the dirt off of them before she went to see who had pulled into her driveway and what they needed.

She was just turning around to fully see what was going on, when she caught sight of Jin and broke out in a bright smile. 

“Jin! You’re back so soon!” YN called, hurrying her way over to the vehicle as Jin walked leisurely around to the trunk. “And you brought someone, just like you said!” YN sighs, bright eyes looking up at Yoongi as she introduces herself properly. 

Yoongi just smiled as he introduced himself as well, absently thinking of just how miniscule she really was, by their standards. Sure, she was maybe a little petitie for the average woman, but by their standards? She was like a child.

YN turns her attention to Jin, curious about what he’s getting out of the trunk, with Yoongi trailing behind her slightly. Out of habit, he is scanning her thoughts to make sure she’s not harboring any ill intent, careful not to get into the section of her thoughts about him or any of the pack. 

“The boys want to meet you, but feeding all of us is more than a chore, so we are going to make sure you have plenty of food stocked up for us. And don’t try to protest, I’d feel bad if I let them eat you out of house and home.” Jin takes on a stern tone, and YN puts her hands up, the argument she had dying. 

“When are you all going to be here? It’s not like I have plans, but I would like to actually be awake for the event.” YN lets out a little giggle that makes both Jin and Yoongi smile a little too largely. 

“If you’re comfortable with it, tomorrow.” Jin has his arms full, and he walks over towards the back door, slightly annoyed that he has to pretend he’s not even a quarter of how strong he actually is by taking multiple trips. 

“The boys are incredibly impatient, honestly.” Yoongi steps around YN and takes some of the groceries into his own arms, figuring he will be helpful too. 

“That’ll be wonderful!” YN rocks on her feet slightly, clearly excited to meet new people and have friends in the way she hadn’t before. “Let me just text my mom and make sure she won’t call in the middle-” YN pats her pockets, frowning as she can’t find her phone. 

Turning on her heel, with an adorable bounce in her step, she makes her way back over to the section of the garden she had been working on, figuring she must have dropped the phone somewhere. 

YN takes about 15 steps before there’s a noise off in the direction of the woods that has all three people snapping their heads to look at it. YN doesn’t even have time to register what’s going on before a snowy figure slams into her with what feels like a wall of moving concrete. 

Yoongi and Jin, completely stunned, watch as a wolf they recognize as being from a rival pack slam herself into YN’s tiny form, throwing her across the yard and into the wall of her home, before she clamps her teeth down on YN’s shoulder, attempting to drag her away. 

Yoongi is the first to react, ripping his shirt off and tossing his shoes out of the way, transforming to the tune of YN’s screaming. He can feel the pain and terror rolling off of YN’s form in waves, he can smell the sweat and blood, he can hear the heart-wrenching screams tearing out of her throat. 

Jin immediately drops whatever food he was holding, running after the white wolf that was attempting to take YN and the inky wolf he knew so well. Assessing the situation, Jin knew transforming wouldn’t help, so instead, he scoops up Yoongi’s discarded shirt and runs full speed after them. 

He makes it into the woods just in time to see Yoongi’s black form slam into the white wolf, causing her to open her mouth just enough that YN slips away. He watches as another blood-curdling scream rips its way out of YN’s mouth as she lands on the ground, her ankle crunching and turning in an unnatural way as she tumbles head first to the ground, finally stopping the violent movement by slamming into a tree with enough force the breath is completely taken out of her.

As Yoongi distracts the white wolf, Jin runs and scoops YN up, doing his best to keep her as stable as possible. She’s bleeding profusely from the bites in her shoulder, her ankle is laying at a completely unnatural angle, she’s gasping and coughing up a bit of blood, her back and side are most likely deeply bruised, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she has a few cracked ribs. 

Jin listens intently to the snarls and growls that YN can’t hear, recognizing the sounds of Yoongi winning. The white wolf is only a beta, and she’s small. Jin has complete confidence that Yoongi will be back soon, with more blood on his hands, and maybe only a couple scratches to show for it. 

In the meantime, Jin quickly throws the couple groceries that were left in the back of the SUV out, laying YN down in the back and taking an actual look at her wounds for the first time. She’s almost hyperventilating, pain rolling off of her, blood leaking out of her and staining the floor of the car. 

“YN, darling, I need you to calm down, okay?” Jin speaks for the first time as he quickly makes makeshift bandages out of Yoongi’s discarded shirt, wrapping up her shoulder as best he can. 

YN just looks at Jin with wild eyes, breathing still coming in ragged gasps. Her throat was on fire, her mouth tasted like metal, her shoulder burned. 

“I know it hurts darling, but I need you to calm down.” Jin reiterates, looking past her shoulder to the other wounds, able to finally focus on actually looking at YN and trying to calm her down more before he tried to do anything more. 

“Look at me YN.” Jin brings a hand to the side of YN’s face, taking a strip of Yoongi’s shirt and wiping off the blood that had dribbled out of her mouth from her coughing fit. “You’re safe YN, it’s okay. We will always make sure you’re safe, don’t worry.” 

YN tries to open her mouth, but she can’t make any words come out. She’s close to passing out, but Jin is keeping her awake. Everything is hazy, it feels like she’s crying but she can’t tell if it’s tears or blood dripping down her face. 

Jin’s brow furrows as he hears sticks breaking in the woods, fully ready to transform and murder the white beta, even though he absolutely hated violence. He never would be able to put his finger on what made him so protective over YN, even right from the get go. 

But, it was Yoongi who stumbled out of the woods, black fur soaked in blood. The wolf walked up to the back of the vehicle, looking up at Jin’s form, a snarl on his lips which let Jin see the flecks of red still staining them. 

“I’m going to set your ankle YN. It’s going to hurt. Badly.” Jin captures YN’s attention, balling up a relatively clean piece of Yoongi’s shirt and stuffing it in her mouth so she doesn’t bite her tongue off. 

“Yoongi, go get two sticks, as straight as you can find.” Jin orders, Yoongi immediately bounds off to the forest, emerging only a minute later with two sticks in his mouth. 

In the minute it took Yoongi to get the sticks, Jin took off his own shirt, ripping it into makeshift bandages as well, keeping the pieces long. He takes the sticks from Yoongi and places them beside YN in the back of the vehicle, quickly taking off YN’s shoe and sock, ripping off the bottom portion of her legging so he can have the access he needs. 

“This is going to hurt. You may pass out.” Jin sounds clinical as he lightly brushes the ankle in question, double checking exactly what he needs to do before he does it. 

With one quick motion, Jin puts YN’s ankle back the way it’s supposed to be, another scream tearing out of YN that has Yoongi growling, pacing around behind Jin. It’s a delayed response, but YN does in fact pass out from the pain, her head lolling over to one side as Jin wraps the sticks on either side of YN’s ankle, making sure none of the bandaging is too tight. 

“I have no idea what kind of damage is underneath, she may need surgery.” Jin turns and looks at Yoongi, who doesn’t do anything but growl. He doesn’t seem to like that idea. 

“I don’t like it any more than you do Yoongs.” Jin walks quickly around the car, putting all the back seats down so there’s room for both YN and Yoongi in the back of the vehicle. 

“I’ll take the emergency path in the woods, you watch her. If something happens or looks wrong, let me know immediately.” Jin watches as Yoongi hops into the car, carefully arranging himself so that YN has all the room she needs. 

Once Yoongi is situated, Jin moves YN so she is propped up against Yoongi, knowing that he will be better able to monitor her in that close position. He closes all the doors, hops into the driver's seat, and sets off into the woods, going as fast as he dares to.

[lamortexiii]

The HellBilly Pulpit: The Stigma of the Stigma

Saturated

This is a painful, yet necessary entry. It envelops me and I must address the situation.

There is a real issue in this country, or even the world over, about mental health. You can't see it in someone. You can have no idea just how bad someone is suffering. Suffering because they don't have a choice. Their problems are discounted, downplayed, and even ridiculed. But make no mistake. They are very much real to those who live it.

This is a personal account of just this sort of thing.

There was a certain movie that came out in 2019 that had a line that sums up the truth. “The worst part about having a mental illness is that people expect you to act as if you don’t.”

I can not agree with this more.

I am currently going through a situation where this exact scenario is taking place. I know that I am not alone in my struggles. I feel that there are probably many of you out there with a similar story.

This pandemic over the last two years has completely laid to waste many of the daily rituals and habits that I had spent my entire life building just to be able to function as a (semi) normal person on any given day.

I suffer from OCD- Anxiety- Depression- and ADHD. That is one heck of a ride as it is, but toss on the pandemic and it’s a real rollercoaster that is out of my control. My job is not very critical. It’s deemed “essential” because of the relation to the finance market it has. Honestly, that’s just a super vague excuse to keep us going to work at the boss’s wishes. Some of us have been working from our dwellings for two years. The problem with this is that now is the time when the bosses want to start pulling people back into the office a couple of days a week despite the current spike of COVID cases. In doing this they have said, “all safety measures will be implemented”. What a crock.

I expressed my concerns about coming back not only because of this new surge of the newest variant but also because the situation really hasn’t changed any in the last few months from what it was in 2020. My coworkers and my boss know that I have OCD (extreme contamination fears) already with the workplace, but now, as I’m sure some are aware, it’s been kicked up a bunch of notches. My concerns were met with deaf ears. It was like this friend (who happened to be my boss) completely disregarded my concerns in dealing with trying to resume “normal” life. My life never was normal and now it’s even a different version than it was two years ago.

The sum- “get over it, you’re needed here… get here”

It didn’t matter what I said about the situation. Now, in this nightmare cocktail of disorders, I have developed a huge amount of empathy for others, especially if they are having any of the mental struggles that I am having. I spoke up that this is not just for me that I am bringing these things to attention, but for others that don’t have the same platform or comfortability to say for themselves.

The sum- “stop being a baby”.

Long story short… Thankfully I have a great therapist and doctor who knows how deep in the weeds I am with all of this and they have helped me sort out the situation, much to the annoyance of my bosses, so that I can continue to remain a cave dweller for the time being.

My point is this… it’s been said but it’s true and bears repeating. There is a stigma about mental health.

A person can be burning inside with the torment of depression and anxiety and any or all of the little variations or caravan of side issues that accompany any one of them. BUT.. since it is not a physical ailment, it’s perceived that it does not exist. Why? Why is it that to be taken even a little bit seriously, there has to be a physical manifestation of an ailment?

To add to the fact that I am a middle-aged male does nothing but amp up the opinions of others who don’t understand, nor do they want to understand what we go through inside.

For some of us, just the simple act of getting out of bed and putting that first foot on the floor takes ALL of our willpower, and we often sit right back down to attempt to regain it all over again. Or we drag ourselves to the shower only to stand in there and let the water try to distract us and wash away our pain. Knowing that in about an hour, we are going to have to put on our “normal” face and walk into the world carrying that weight on our backs that nobody sees.

There was a joke that I heard a few days ago- The doctor asks the patient if they have had any issues with depression or anxiety recently. The patient says, “doesn’t everybody?” and the doctor said... “No.”. That hit. That was an eye-opening moment. Not everyone knows what that is like. I can’t fathom that.

I have this group of bosses that have known me for years, as I said earlier, and they know that this is me. They know that I’ve been in therapy and medicated for years. And like any other millions of bosses out there in the world, they didn’t care.

It’s a mission of mine to bring as much attention as I can to the stigma surrounding mental health. That I can express how important focus on mental health is.

If you were to break a leg, you'd wear your cast and take your painkillers. Well, when dealing with your mental health, what's broken is your brain, your spirit, your ambition, and your will - the invisible things that people can’t see.

Seek out the help that you need - be it from a professional, family, your best friend, or someone you know who just “gets” you.

Reach out in your prayers, spells, cards, or whatever you use to help guide you. Your spirituality may be a surprising comfort in new ways that you hadn't thought of. I’ve found that I can rest my anxiety with a cleansing shower, letting the water run, cool not cold, over me as I focus my intent and purpose of removing the negativity that has attached itself to me.

I also use meditation to refocus and empty my mind by sitting in a dark room with my favorite ambient music to rest and let my mind float and take me wherever it wants to go. Falling asleep this way is ok as well, I’ve found that’s a great formula for a relaxing nap.

Tarot. This is new to me. I’ve started with a simple shuffle and letting my thoughts go into my cards. Not necessarily asking for a definitive answer, maybe just some insight that I may be missing myself that the cards can lead me to.

I’ve always been interested in the cards, but always as a spectator. I’ve recently met a few people who have some good experience with giving readings to people. I asked one of them a few weeks ago to give me a reading. He lives over in Europe and there’s a good bit of time difference but he is the first to inspire me to get a deck of my own. He did a reading for me, simple pull, nothing fancy and he came up with a certain card in a certain position and it corresponded with my current station in life. That was an eye-opening experience. To have someone do a reading with their cards for ME after all this time of being curious.

My second friend that I’ve turned to for guidance in the cards also did a reading for me. This was maybe 3 or 4 days after the first. This person is stateside and not far from me. I feel this is an important detail. She pulled my cards and one of the cards jumped out of the deck as she started to shuffle. This was the same card that my friend overseas pulled for me as well.

That was it. I’m in.

I bought my first deck. The one in the picture for this blog and I’m ready to start down that path of self-discovery that I’m learning is possible to achieve.

Tarot. Always curious. Never studied. Now I’m ready for the insight that is possible through the cards.

Opening my mind and spirit to the universe, I have found that this has been one of the most refreshing feelings in the world.

I try to live by the idea that the energy that you put out into the universe, will come back to you. Don’t be afraid to look within yourself and use the tools you feel compelled to use and are comfortable with. You’ll be much for the better than allowing the demons to hang out in your mind 24/7.

Always remember that you are not alone.

I promise you.

We are here and we reach out with open arms to be the support that you didn't know you needed.

Take care of yourselves everyone.  

Be cool

I leave you again this month with another poesy. This was inspired by the cards themselves.

Fnip.. fnip.. fnip... Sitting and shuffling Brooding and clenching The flutter of the cards calming my senses What will they show? Maybe they haven’t determined yet Guide me on my path, lead the way Give me insight, security Calm my thoughts Show me what you want to say Ava Satanis HBVV

The HellBilly Pulpit Blog by @hellbillyvvitch @thehellbillypulpit