#and a lot of sitting in my room and a lot of therapy which i'm not sure is helping. and too much Thinking

[bumblebeelarry]

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[ms-demeanor]

Hey friend! So while I'm incredibly skeptical, I'm not strictly against alternative medicine, like you are. I saw you mention reiki, and thought you might geek out on this article like I did:

https://web.archive.org/web/20200308195914/https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/04/reiki-cant-possibly-work-so-why-does-it/606808/

It's called "Reiki Can't Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" and I highly encourage reading the whole thing. It first of all thoroughly debunks a lot of the claims reiki practitioners make but it also details all of the studies that have proven its effectiveness and provides what I find a pretty compelling explanation: that much of modern western medicine is stressful and traumatizing. Of course laying in a quiet room with the lights dimmed while a kind person sits with you and wishes for you to be well is effective. It reduces stress and all of the negative biological processes it triggers, which promotes healing.

The article mentions that for years we didn't understand the mechanism by which acetaminophen worked - we just knew it did. I knew a man who was really into "chakra therapy" in the 90s where he had a set of colored sunglasses that, supposedly, would rebalance one's out-of-whack chakras through light therapy. He found that attending to his throat chakra, yellow, helped him sleep better. Years later, formal studies found that yellow lenses filter blue light and can help regulate circadian rhythms.

When I was really little, my uncle sold magnet therapy products (which claimed to promote circulation?? I think??). I had a huge meltdown at a family reunion and no one could get me to calm down. My uncle put a blanket full of magnets on top of me, and I immediately relaxed. Imagine my surprise hearing that story for the first time as an adult who now uses a weighted blanket for stress.

I agree that people need to be really careful about these practices, about getting scammed, and especially about herbal supplements that can have dangerous interactions. I also think there's an extent to which you can analyze the risks and benefits and say, "Okay, I have no idea why this works but it does and there's no major downsides."

Hey so I get a bit heated in this response but I want you to know that I approached this ask in good faith because I know you and I know that we have a lot of the same values and interests and this touched a nerve that was not at all your fault and once I get past the direct response to the article I think I come off a little less. Um. Like the aggression there is not directed at you, it's directed at the article and at one person mentioned in the article specifically who is part of why my reaction to the article is so not good. But I promise after the last bullet point I come off as less reactive, I think. (I'm also publishing this publicly because I think it may be helpful for people to see how CAM stuff often gets away with a veneer of skepticism-that-isn't-actually-skepticism - the article claims to be skeptical but then makes a ton of assumptions and cites some truly mind-bogglingly bad sources that a lot of people won't recognize as bad if they don't have a hair trigger trained by far too much time on the bad CAM parts of the internet).

I've actually read that article a few time times, and would like to do a quick rundown on why I find it unconvincing:

She doesn't cite any decent studies on reiki; one that she does cite is just a self-reported questionnaire response from 23 people in 2002.

While we don't know the exact mechanism of action for acetaminophen, we do know that it does work - it measurably reduces fever and in double blinded RCTs produces reproduceable results in reducing certain kinds of pain. The Science Based Medicine authors cited in the article who called for an end to studies on reiki did so both because there is no plausible mechanism of action for reiki (specifically as energy work, not as 'being in a room with a patient person who listens to you') and because there is no good evidence that it works. (And they wrote a follow-up to the Atlantic article; I like SBM but it's quite sneery, as are most of their write-ups of reiki). When Kisner asks "why should this be different?" when comparing reiki and acetaminophen, the answer is: because there is not only no plausible way that reiki *could* work, there is not any good evidence we have that it works better than placebo.

"Various non-Western practices have become popular complements to conventional medicine in the past few decades, chief among them yoga, meditation, and acupuncture, all of which have been the subject of rigorous scientific studies that have established and explained their effectiveness." This one sentence needs probably twenty or so links in response, suffice it to say that western medicine has emphatically not established and explained the effectiveness of AT LEAST acupuncture and the casually credulous way Kisner accepts that acupuncture is effective (effective FOR WHAT?) throws some serious doubt on her ability to assess these kinds of things.

The title of the article is "Reiki can't possibly work, so why does it?" and that's probably the Atlantic's fault more than Jordan Kisner's fault, but she doesn't ever demonstrate that it works. She says she got a buzzy feeling after her training, she says that patients at the VA were asking for reiki as treatment for pain and sleep disorders, she says that people remembered "healing touches" from parents and loved ones and that the same mechanism might be what makes reiki 'work.' She says that reiki "has been shown by various studies that pass evidentiary muster to help patients in a variety of ways when used as a complementary practice" and the two studies that she includes that weren't just a questionnaire were 1) a non-blinded study of heart rate variability post heart attack where the reiki arm involved continuous interaction with a trained nurse and the other two arms involved resting quietly or classical music (so relaxation as a result of additional focused attention by attentive medical professionals could account for this? Why was the control for this study not having a med student sit and hold the patient's hand?) and 2) a study of patients who sought out reiki who were surveyed after treatment and noted improvement on one of twenty mental or physical markers (this study is like, GOLD for an example of a bad study; no control, self-selected participants who believe in the efficacy of the intervention, exceptionally broad criteria for a positive result - I find it really really really challenging to grant any credence to someone who confidently cited this as an example of reiki "working")

Near the end of the article she says "At the same time, this recalled the most cutting-edge, Harvard-stamped science I’d read in my research: Ted Kaptchuk’s finding that the placebo effect is a real, measurable, biological healing response to “an act of caring.” - if she read any of Ted Kaptchuk's research she didn't link to it; what she did link to was a 2018 New York Times profile of him and Kathryn Hall, researchers at Harvard's Placebo Studies and the Therapeutic Encounter program. Being any flavor of journalist and citing Ted Kaptchuk as your source for cutting-edge, institutionally-backed science is disqualifying.

I now need to do some yelling about Ted Kaptchuk.

For clarity: I have as much medical training as Kathryn Hall and Ted Kaptchuk, which is to say: None.

Hall is a microbiologist with a PhD in Public Health, so she at least a background in science. Kaptchuk is an acupuncturist with a BA in East Asian studies and a doctorate in Chinese medicine - notably NOT a medical degree; he was forced to stop calling himself a doctor and had papers retracted after enough people questioned whether the school he claimed he attended even existed and the documents he presented to claim that he was an "OMD" were conclusively translated and did not have any indication that the granted a medical degree of any kind - Science Based Medicine was involved in investigating this because they've been comprehensively anti-quack forever and Ted Kaptchuk has been a quack forever (after recieving confirmation from the government of Macau that Kaptchuk's alma mater was not a medical degree granting institution SBM STILL gave him the benefit of the doubt and had people translate his documentation for final confirmation).

He is also an author on of one of my most beloathed ever studies, which showed that sham acupuncture, placebo, and albuterol all produced the same effect on patient-reported well-being, coming to the conclusion that patient reports can be unreliable and that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma." That fucking line, that stupid goddamned line, gets cited in every piece of woo bullshit about how acupuncture or chiropractic or some scam-ass diet all work, I've run into this study while looking through at least twenty bibliographies and it is one of the biggest, reddest flags that whoever is writing the paper you're reading is full up on some bullshit. Because, see, the paper found that "placebo effects can be clinically meaningful and can rival the effects of active medication in patients with asthma" in terms of *patient-reported* markers, but the fucking study found that only albuterol produced an actual effect in lung function. Here's the sentence BEFORE the one that gets cited all the time: "Although albuterol, but not the two placebo interventions, improved FEV1 [forced expiratory volume in one second - the measure for lung function used in the study and used to diagnose asthma] in these patients with asthma, albuterol provided no incremental benefit with respect to the self-reported outcomes." It doesn't matter if the patient *feels* better if they can't actually breathe! It doesn't fucking matter - feeling better but still having poor breathing leaves you more vulnerable to dying of a fucking asthma attack! I hate this goddamned study so fucking much and it's used all the time to claim that placebo can be just as effective as medicine for making people FEEL better but, like, they're still sick even if they feel better! I HAVE HAD PEOPLE CITE THIS STUPID FUCKING STUDY TO ME AS EVIDENCE THAT I DON'T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT TREATING MY FUCKING ASTHMA BECAUSE I DON'T GET ACUPUNCTURE TO TREAT MY FUCKING ASTHMA. If sham acupuncture makes you feel better when you've got the flu but doesn't lower your fever or make you less contagious, you shouldn't act like you don't have a fever or aren't contagious this study makes me INSANE.

Okay done yelling.

I think this look at placebo in the midst of her article about reiki is really interesting because it's very common for CAM practitioners to claim that it's as effective as placebo - which just means that it's not effective. This is a great explanation from The Skeptic on why placebo isn't and can't be what Kaptchuk, Hall, and the like claim. It's also interesting to me that Kisner didn't choose to link to a 2011 New Yorker profile of Kaptchuk that is somewhat less rosy about his placebo studies and includes this absolutely crushing statement: "the placebo effect doesn’t appear to work with Alzheimer’s patients. Trivers suggests that this is because most people who have Alzheimer’s disease are unable to anticipate the future and are therefore unable to prepare for it."

But to the actual point of the ask: I honestly think it's fascinating how much CAM success probably rides on "well did you listen to the patient and pay attention to what was wrong with them and sympathize with them and help them lay out plan that made them feel like they had some agency in this exceptionally frustrating situation (chronic illness, newly diagnosed issue, totally undiagnosed issue) that they're dealing with?"

I know part of why people with chronic illnesses turn to CAM is because they're ignored and dismissed by allopathic practitioners who are largely looking for horses, not zebras - this is one of the reasons that I'm really big on reminding people that (at least in the US) DOs are fully licensed physicians who use a holistic and patient-centered approach so if you are someone with a chronic illness who has had trouble getting diagnosed or had trouble getting doctors to believe you, swapping your MD for a DO as a primary care physician might be really, really helpful to you.

But the flip side of that is that is that I worry deeply about the question of where harm starts; the example with your uncle is really great because you do have a solid instance of something working but for totally the wrong reason (pressure being the mechanism that actually helped, versus magnets being the reason given by the person who did the treatment). Some of this stuff has very little likelihood of causing direct harm, but has the distinct possibility of having indirect harms, which people in the anti-CAM space generally divide into two categories, treatment delay and unnecessary costs (opportunity costs, monetary costs, wasted effort, etc.)

I'm going to step outside of your specific example and look at magnet therapy generally, which really is a spectacular thing to focus on because it honestly doesn't have any direct harms; nobody is allergic to magnets, the kinds of magnets used aren't strong enough to interfere with medical devices, it's even safer than the whole "well herbalism is sometimes just a cup of tea" thing because there are "safe" teas that can do real harm to large populations! But simply being around magnets is not going to hurt anyone (unless they're swallowed; nobody swallow magnets please).

One of the things that I think goes under-discussed when talking about placebo and CAM is that the people trying the alternative solutions desperately WANT the alternative medicine to work (I suspect that this is why the self-selected study of reiki patients has such a significant finding). They are pulling for it; they may be looking at it as a last resort, or they may be hoping that it will work to avoid a treatment that is more frightening, expensive, or inaccessible. I think this actually contributes a lot to the delay of care that we see with CAM.

The absolute worst case harm I can imagine from magnetic therapy is delaying treatment. Let's suppose we've got a diabetic patient with gradually increasing peripheral neuropathy; they have reacted poorly to gabapentin in the past and are looking for something more natural, and they hear from their chiropractor that magnet therapy can be used to treat neuropathy. They buy some compression socks with "magnetic and earthing properties" and sleep in the socks. Whether through the compression controlling some edema or through the simple desire for the socks to work, they feel some relief from the nerve pain they were experiencing and decide that this is a success. The socks work! They continue wearing the socks with occasional pain, but less than before. However, because they are focused on the lack of pain, they don't notice that it's accompanied by increasing numbness. The numbness significantly increases their risk of injury to their feet, which significantly increases their risk of amputation.

It probably sounds like catastrophizing to say "using magnets could lead to amputation" but honestly I don't think it's that far out of the realm of possibility (every time I post on this topic I get flooded with the saddest stories in the world about people whose loved ones died because of delayed treatment for cancer or heart disease).

The second category of harm is cost, which is honestly pretty minimal with magnet therapy, as long as you aren't spending $1049 on a magnetic mat

or paying a chiropractor to give you magnetic treatments. For some other medically harmless treatments like reiki, cost is the thing that I worry about - while I was looking up information related to the article I found that people are charging anywhere from $60 to $225 a session, and selling multi-session packages for thousands of dollars - and if someone thinks that something works, even if it only works by being in a soothing space where someone cares about you - they'll pay for it.

I'm aware that all of this is also extra complicated because of the cost and lack of access to allopathic medicine - a chiropractor broke my spine because I could pay her $60 per appointment but I couldn't pay $125 to see an MD when I didn't have insurance. People who are sick are going to look for treatment; people who have been denied treatment or dismissed by doctors are going to look for alternative treatments.

But man, I really wish I'd spent that sixty bucks on half of a doctor's appointment because the chiropractor didn't know about the benign tumor that I had that weakened the structure of that particular bone when she did her adjustment; it also didn't make the pain go away, it made a different pain start and get worse because it turns out I was having debilitating muscle spasms that then had a bone injury added in on top.

(Chiropractic, for the record, goes with chelation therapy and many many many many cases of herbalism where it's NOT just cost or delay; people claim these treatments are harmless and they are not. They can do tremendous harm).

But yeah I'm not going to deny at all that all of this would be a hell of a lot better if people (especially marginalized people) didn't have to jump through hoops to prove to a doctor that something is wrong with them, and didn't have to do so in an appointment that attempts to cram whole person care down into fifteen minutes, and didn't have the possibility of bankrupting you. Interacting with allopathic medicine is a nightmare and I totally understand why people want to look outside of it for treatment.

I've just heard too many horror stories and seen too much predatory CAM to cut much of it any slack.

At the end of the SBM response to the Atlantic article, the author (I can't remember if it's Gorski or Novella) makes the point that reiki is a spiritual practice, and that we've known for a long time that spiritual practices can improve a person's well-being in a number of ways; they can reduce anxiety, they can provide community, they can give people a space to feel and express emotions that they certainly aren't going to be able to process in a doctor's office. Spiritual practices can be wonderful, and we know there are a lot of people who they can help. But they aren't medicine, and attempting to replace medicine with them (which I don't think that most reiki practitioners are trying to do, to be fair, but which Ted Kaptchuk DEFINITELY is in trying to 'harness the power of placebo') is a disservice to people who need an inhaler instead of acupuncture.

Also, and I know this was not your point but I have to bring it up because people ask about it whenever discussions of placebo come up:

The placebo effect is not treatment. The placebo effect, whether achieved through deception or when someone says loud and clear "this is a sugar pill" does not improve an illness, but it may improve how a patient *feels* about an illness. In some cases, this may as well be the same thing - if you're dealing with muscle pain because you're stressed and no matter what you do it doesn't go away because your shoulders are always up around your ears and you're grinding your teeth and you're sleeping poorly, then literally just talking to someone who is in an office and says "this is a sugar pill, go ahead and take it" may make your muscle pain feel better, but it isn't going to reduce your stress and it isn't going to last, and if your muscle pain is because you're feeling angina as a result of a partially blocked artery then it SURE AS FUCK is not going to make you better and may mask symptoms that were a warning sign of a much more serious problem. People who are sick deserve actual treatment, and placebo is not treatment, which is part of why Ted Kaptchuk makes me want to tear my hair out.

[angeliicheartt]

Hii I love your writing, it's so good! Can I request a fic for shoto in which they're kids and the reader's parents had a quirk marriage too and she's worried her parents will force her to marry someone so she asks shoto to marry her and they have a fake kid wedding where they get fuyumi to "officiate" it and natsuo is the flower girl(lol I'm dying just thinking about kid natsuo throwing flowers in a dress) but they act like a married couple even when they're both in UA(she's also in 1a). Please please please I would really appreciate it! But it's completely fine if it's something you're not comfortable with! <333

ɪ ᴅᴏ!

includes: shoto todoroki

fem!reader

a/n: finished right before i had to leave for therapy 😚 i thought this was so cute but i didn't know how to end it but i hope u like it <3

you still remember the warm, summer day you went over to the todoroki household for the first time. you were 5, your parents had been arguing and your nanny thought it’d be good to get you out of the house. you remember holding tightly onto your nanny’s hand, the skin made soft by the lotion she always kept on her.

you watched as she shook a white-haired woman’s hand, her expression timid but welcoming. your eyes drift down to see 3 other children, your eyes lighting up at the sight. a girl and a boy, both with primarily white hair watch you from a few feet behind their mother, their expressions curious, and in front of them, clinging to his mother’s pant leg was a boy with half white and half red hair. you felt your nanny’s hand on the back of your head as you looked up at her.

“go play, i’ll be with mrs. todoroki,” her hand slides down to your back before gently nudging you towards the children before following mrs. todoroki out of the room. suddenly all eyes are on you and you want to shrink. your little hands fiddle with each other before the girl walks up to you. she has an eager smile on her face and you can tell she’s older than the other two, as you have to slightly crane your neck to see her before she crouches down.

“i'm fuyumi,” she says, her hand gesturing to herself, “i'm twelve.” 

she then points towards the white haired boy, “that's natsuo, he’s eight,” her finger moves to point at the smaller boy, “and that’s shoto, he’s five. there’s also touya, but he’s out in the forest right now.”

her head turns back to you and her lips form a soft smile once again, slowly warming you up. “i’m (y/n), i'm five too,” you say shyly, keeping your focus on fuyumi. her smile widens as she turns to shoto, “you hear that, sho? she’s your age.” 

you watch him nod shyly, his cheeks pink as he breaks eye contact, tilting his head to look at the ground. “he's just a little shy, nothing to worry about!” fuyumi states, smiling once again.

“can we go play again?” natsuo groans, crossing his arms as he raises an eyebrow at fuyumi. she sighs, her hand moving to her hip as she stands up again, “yes, let’s go.”

she begins walking, brushing past natsuo as he turns to follow her into the courtyard. you watched her go, unsure if you’re permitted to follow, but before you can question any longer, shoto’s chubby little hand grabbed yours and began trailing after his siblings. the hand holding yours is cool to the touch, a good aid for the sticky summer air. 

you and shoto sit on the stairs as natsuo grabs a ball, kicking it to fuyumi. she laughs as she returns it, the two of them kicking the ball back and forth. you turn your head towards shoto, gazing at him through your hair, “you’re not gonna play?”

he shakes his head, “i don’t get to play a lot, and i don’t really feel like playing,” he murmurs and you hum in response, burying your chin in your arms as they rest atop your knees. 

“do you get to play?” he asks, his two-toned head turning towards you. you shrug before lifting your chin from the juncture of your arms, “i'm allowed to, i just don’t have anyone to play with.” you say, watching as natsuo and fuyumi laugh and run around, “my parents argue a lot, s’cause they married for quirks ‘nd not love,'' you say, your five-year-old mind not having any idea of a filter.

“same with mine,” shoto says, his eyes still trained on you.

“mine might make me get a quirk marriage,” you say, looking over at shoto once again before your eyes widen at him.

“what?” he mutters, his cheeks flushing once more as you smile and grab onto his arm. “we could get married, that way you and me don’t get pushed into a quirk marriage,” you exclaim, your lip getting caught between your teeth as you wait for shoto’s response. 

“okay,” he mutters, his focus on the way you're holding onto his arm. you get up, grabbing his cool hand once more to pull him up before hurrying over to fuyumi and natsuo, “me and shoto are getting married.” you say as fuyumi looks down at the two of you.

“oh, you are now?” she asks with a grin as shoto and you both nod.

“alright then,” she says cheekily before grabbing natsuo and telling him to grab a dress from her closet and flowers from the garden.

after a few minutes, natsuo comes back and fuyumi bullies him into being the flower girl as she proclaims herself the officiant, with the reasoning that, “she actually knows what to say.”

during that time, shoto had run into the house to his mother before shyly saying he was marrying you and needed a ring. rei chuckled before getting up from her seat, muttering a small, “be right back,” to shoto and your nanny.

she comes back a few minutes later, a small, dainty, ring in hand. She crouches down, holding it out in front of shoto.

“will this work?” she asks and he nods, thanking his mother shyly before running back out to the courtyard. 

once everyone’s back in the courtyard, fuyumi began to orchestrate everything. she calls shoto over to her, where she’s set up a small arch made of ice. she stands under it as she guides shoto to the little ‘x’ she drew in the ground. she tells natsuo to “just throw the flowers on the ground while you walk,” before walking back to you, crouching before you.

“and all you gotta do is walk behind natsuo, got it?” she smiles as you nod. she pats the top of your head affectionately before walking back to her officiant spot.

natuso begins walking as he hums the wedding march, tossing bits of flowers across the ground. you follow behind him a few feet, your hands fiddling with themselves once again, almost as nervous as when you first got here. natsuo makes it to the arch before moving to stand behind shoto, and as he moves out of your view, you make eye contact with shoto. your shoulders relax and you let out the breath you were holding as you walk to the ‘x’ fuyumi drew out. 

“now, hold hands,” fuyumi directs and you and shoto obey, both of his hands moving to grab your fidgeting ones. 

she begins reading out the officiant script, cutting out the longer parts in the middle, before she finally gets to the end, “shoto, do you take (y/n) to be your wife?” she bends down slightly as she asks, watching as he nods.

“you have to say ‘i do’” she says and he repeats it, muttering out a small “i do,”

“and do you, (y/n), take shoto to be your husband?” she turns to you, as you nod and say “i do,”

fuyumi straightens up, a grin on her face as she proclaims, “then, by the power not vested in me, i pronounce you husband and wife!” her hands move to her hips as she rests her weight on one leg, “now give the bride a little kiss on the cheek.” 

shoto leans forward, gently planting a soft kiss on your chubby cheek, and the two of you hear a camera shutter, before turning to see shoto’s mom and your nanny watching the two of you, a camera in rei’s hand. 

“we've got to go now, (y/n), we’ll come back another day, hm?” your nanny reaches out her hand for you to grab. you almost run over to her before shoto grabs your little hand.

“you almost forgot the ring,” he murmurs as he slides the slightly-too-big ring onto your ring finger. you grin as you kiss his little cheek in thanks.

“i’ll see you soon,” you murmur before running off to your nanny, her soft hand taking hold of yours, commenting on the little ring you received.

and that was the beginning of you and shoto’s relationship. the two of you have never explicitly stated that you two are together, but you’ve always been with shoto. you've been ‘married’ to him since you were five, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

your head turns as you look at shoto, sitting on one of the dorm couches, your hand in his as he plays with the little wedding ring he gave you over a decade ago. you smile at him as he glances over, and you lean your head in to give him a small kiss on his cheek.

“i'm glad you asked me to marry you,” shoto mutters, his eyes flickering down to the ring his fingers continue to fidget with. 

“i'm glad you agreed,” you giggle before mina stops dead in front of you, “did i hear the word marry?? you two are married??”

you laugh at her reaction, patting the seat next to you for her to sit so you can explain how you’re ‘married’ to shoto.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis

[cannibalizedlove]

jus stumbled on ur acc and IM IN LOVE I jus read the stalker!donnie fic and was wondering if there's a scenario where reader actually knew the entire time and is equally obsessed (basically self inserting LOL). but anyway idk if u write smut so maybe reader teases him abt it when they're having a lil makeout sesh in the couch and readers all like "its kinda hot" and says some crazy shit that makes donnie. whos as deep in the pool of obsession as you gets hellaaaa flustered EEEK I'm going crazy I fucking love donnie

Thank you for the request!! I think this is such a good idea, mutual obsession is just.. chef kiss. I hope you enjoy <3

The feelings mutual.

Information and warnings — smut!*, part twoish of “watching you”, male reader, donnie and reader being horny messes, donnie’s first time so you ruin him :((, reader being a kinky freak which is perfect for him, heavy corruption kink, donnie being a loser bottom bitch (affectionate). this is so long, i apologize ahh, i just love him so much.

You had been going with Donnie for about three months now, and you were infatuated with everything about him.

You loved hearing him talk about whatever new conspiracy theory he bought into, and you were always there to help him during his hallucinations.

Donnie was completely and utterly obsessed with you, he did everything for you. Even though you were perfectly capable of doing your homework, Donnie would always snatch it from your backpack and do it for you, he never let you lift a finger. It was crystal clear that you had him whipped.

Before the two of you got together, Donnie was just as obsessed with you. The huge perv was constantly watching you through your windows, following you home, and of course, stealing your underwear. What Donnie didn’t know is that you were completely aware of his stalking, and how you were completely turned on by it.

The two of you were sitting on his couch in the living room, his parents and siblings were out to dinner while Donnie was supposed to be at his therapy session with Dr. Thurman, but skipping it one time wouldn’t hurt, right? Seeing how you were like his medication, except you actually worked and didn’t just make him drowsy.

The two of you were watching a corny horror movie, you had already connected the dots and figured out who the killer was, though, it didn’t matter anyways because neither of you were paying attention. You were leaned against his warm body while Donnie was squeezing and touching every inch of you that he could grab.

You let out quiet moans as he began to kiss behind your ears and onto your collar bone, reaching up and softly running your hands through his short hair. The two of you had never gone farther than this before, and it was slowly killing Donnie.

He needed you more than he needed air, you were the most angelic thing he had ever seen, he wanted nothing more than to ruin your pure image.

“Donnie, I know a lot about you.” You softly spoke, your words interrupted by little moans and laughs when his lips would tickle your neck.

“Yeah? Like what, angel?” Donnie smiled against your skin, drawing invisible circles on your exposed skin.

“I know that you have extensive knowledge on time travel.. and that your favorite cartoon is The Smurfs..” You chuckled at the last part, earning a playful eye roll from the boy and a gentle push; “..and I also know that you like to steal my underwear.” You finished your sentence by grabbing his jaw.

Donnie instantly froze and his heart sank into his stomach. His eyes were wide and he swallowed thickly before coming up with a lie on the spot.

“I don’t know what you mean, I wouldn’t do that.. That’s a total invasion of your privacy!” He began to breathe heavily, he felt like an animal caught in a cage with no way out.

“Oh, and you would never invade my privacy, right? You would never follow me home.. or sit by my window and watch me?” You had moved positions from laying on him to now straddling him sitting on his lap. You drew out your words softly into his ear, feeling him shake from anxiety.

Donnie knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this, he knew he was caught, and he was terrified. Was this the end? Were you completely disgusted with him and you were just stringing him along to hurt him? He couldn’t believe that, you were too sweet, too perfect, he didn’t want to lose you over his uncontrolled attraction to you.

“Do you.. hate me.. for it?” Donnie looked up at you with glossy eyes, trying to swallow his fear but failing miserably.

You couldn’t keep playing with him like this, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you couldn’t help but find him attractive with his quivering voice and worried eyes.

“Oh, Donnie.. I could never hate you.” You lifted his chin to hold eye contact with him, and ran your free hand through his hair. “If anything,” You paused, letting his jaw go, and leaning forward, leaving your lips just an inch away from his.

“It’s kinda hot.” You finished your sentence, pushing your lips into his with a hard kiss, leaving Donnie completely surprised.

He couldn’t believe it, he was afraid of you being horrified of him, yet here you were making out with him because of it. Donnie knew he wouldn’t be able to hide the tent that was growing in his pants.

The kisses were only broken by the loud moans that left both of your mouths, the two of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You began to grind down on his crotch, pulling on his hair. Donnie bit down on your lip, resulting in a sharp moan from you. He latched onto your neck, attacking it with bites and wet kisses. You were in complete bliss, the only things you could think about were Donnie’s teeth pulling on your skin and his hand creeping up to your throat.

Donnie pulled away, placing his hand on your throat harshly. Both of your lips were swollen, and Donnie’s face was completely flushed, he smiled as he watched you pant like a dog, and he began to palm you through your jeans that had become 2 sizes to small, enjoying every moan that you cried out.

You looked incredible like this, he thought, your eyelashes wet from the tears that welled up from Donnie’s painful bites, your hair completely unruly, falling perfectly infront of your face, every bit of your sight was driving him crazy. It honestly amazed him how he was able to keep himself from ripping every bit of fabric off of you and making you cry, but Donnie didn’t wanna scare you off; so he kept his composure, at least this time he would.

You began to roll your hips into his hand that had a tight grip on your painfully hard bulge, moaning loudly into his open mouth, holding onto his wrist of the hand that was on your throat, causing him to squeeze ever so slightly harder. You felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough, you needed to feel him.

“Please.. Donnie.” You said breathlessly with your eyes screwed shut. Donnie didn’t know if this was real or a hallucination, he had thought about this moment every time he masturbated with your stolen underwear, but now that it was actually happening, he felt wildly intimidated.

“I’ve never.. I’ve never done this before.” Donnie halted his movements, hanging his head low in embarrassment, worrying that the fact he was still a virgin would turn you off; only to find out that it made you want him ten times more, if that was even possible.

“That’s okay.. I can teach you, I promise.” You grabbed his chin, lifting it back up to your gaze, watching his already red face turn brighter.

Donnie nodded wildly, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you stand up in front of him, taking your jeans off. He swore that if you looked hard enough, you could see a pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. When you had finally gotten your jeans off, which felt like years to the poor horny mess, you sat back down on his lap, kissing his forehead gently.

You gestured to Donnie to lift his arms up, and he instantly followed the command, lifting his arms up and swallowing thickly as you took his shirt off. Your lips ghosted over his as you ran your hands down his chest, taking note of how he bucked his hips subconsciously when you ran a finger over his nipple.

“We can start off simple, is that okay?” You smiled sweetly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, watching his every movement to make sure you didn’t cause him any discomfort. “Yeah.. yeah that’s okay.” Donnie said, completely out of breath, his hard on becoming increasingly more painful.

You brought his hand down to your bulge once again, giving him a soft kiss as he circled your tip through your boxers. “You can take them off — please, take them off.” That simple command was all it took for him to completely rip off your plaid boxers, exposing your dripping cock to the cold air of the boys house. Donnie gripped you instantly, running his thumb over your slit with a half swallowed moan escaping his mouth.

“Fuck, Donnie..” Your face was buried in the nape of his neck, kissing it every once in a while to try and stifle your increasingly louder groans. Donnie had his free hand on the back of your head, holding you close to the sweet spot behind his ear you kept attacking. “You’re so fucking pretty..” He cried while continuing to work your length, he could feel his own pre completely soaking through his underwear. You began to roll your hips once again, feeling like you were on cloud nine, but just before you could come undone in his hand, he pulled away, holding your waist tightly.

“Can I.. you know…” Donnie whined, despite the fact that he had the nerve to stalk you, and break into your home, he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words ‘fuck you’, it was pathetically adorable.

You chuckled and nodded your head, kissing his cheek before sitting on your knees and helping Donnie remove his jeans. Something about you doing everything for him, and teaching him how to fuck you was deliciously exciting to him. He loved the idea of him being completely tainted by you, even if he had originally dreamed of the roles being reversed. With his jeans now removed, you kissed him one final time before curling a finger in his waistband, pulling his boxers down to his ankles.

Donnie looked away bashfully, his length twitching quickly, leaking pre like a hose. You bit your lip, taking a mental photo for use later. You hovered over him, holding his hard cock tightly as you lined it up with your hole.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, kissing the top of his head, making sure that he was ready to be taken like this. Donnie whined out in frustration, he was never good with patience and it was on full display here. You laughed at his needy response, and slowly began to sink down onto his dripping length. Donnie instantly threw his head back, grabbing your waist and digging his short nails into your skin. Your mouth hung open, sinful noises filled the room from the both of you as you bottomed out onto him.

Donnie’s eyes began to water from the sheer pleasure, and he held you like his life depended on it. It took you a second to adjust to his size, but you started slowly moving up and down, making Donnie completely loose it. His quiet demeanor was totally lost at this point, nothing but whines, cried out moans, and loud “fucks”, and “please’s” left his mouth. Nothing filled his mind except the feeling of you wrapped around him, and your pretty facial expressions. The poor boy was totally overwhelmed, fat tears began to fall from his eyes as he got closer to his climax.

The sight was enough to push you over the edge, he looked completely wrecked, and it was a gorgeous sight. You pushed yourself forward, latching onto his lips and grabbing his face tightly, his tears transferring onto your cheeks as you kissed. You became undone onto both of your chests, thick ropes covering Donnie’s frail body. Donnie broke the kiss with a loud cry, hitting his climax and losing himself inside of you. He held you tightly to his body as he pumped you full.

After a few moments of silence, that let both of you gain your composure, you let out a breathy laugh, kissing your fucked out boyfriend all over his face. You watched as his chest heaved up and down as he blinked tightly, trying to regain all of his senses. Donnie kissed your lips softly, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle hug.

“Hey.. how did you know all that stuff? Have you like.. done this before?” Donnie said, a thick sense of jealousy flowing through every word.

“No, I just watch a lot of porn.” You chuckled, a devilish smile running across your face.

Donnie let out a breathless moan as he flipped you onto your back, just the idea making him ready for a round two.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Let's Talk About That

I saw the end when we began (1)

Psychiatrist!Avenger!Fem!Reader × Wanda Maximoff

Summary: You are the young psychiatrist for the Avengers, and you take your job very seriously, but what happens when Wanda joins the team, turning your life upside down?

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: legal age gap r is 19 w is 25, talks of death and grief, a bit of angst, therapy sessions

A/N: I had this idea for a while and wrote it a while ago, but spruced it up for publishing. I hope you enjoy it!

May 7th-10th 2015

The only sounds to be heard were the scratches of your pen against paper as you wrote down notes the old fashioned way and the hum of the AC unit installed in your office. Tony let you have a nice corner of the tower where there was sunlight and windows. You had gone with a soft gray for the walls, an L-shaped mahogany desk that had both a desktop computer and your laptop. Across from your desk was two couches and a coffee table between them with an assortment of fidget toys, a succulent, a handful of magazines, and a box of tissues. 

Everyone had been away on an important mission and normally you’d go with, but you'd been recovering from a previous injury, you still are when you hear a knock on your door, 

"Open." You let them know and just from their aura you can tell it's Tasha, but she's with someone else, an aura you don't recognize. You look up to find a girl with chestnut colored hair, and a dark aura around her. "Hey Tash. I'm glad you're all home safe. I'm assuming we'll restart our sessions?" You ask the red head. 

"Yes. We can resume them. Tomorrow. Today I need you to have a talk with this one." Tasha helps her into the room and gestures for her to sit down, Tasha walks over and hands you a large file. "She came from HYDRA, they had a lot of info on her, she had joined us in the fight against Ultron." Tasha tells you before lowering her voice, "She lost her twin brother during the battle. So maybe you can get her to talk." You smile at Tasha and then look past the red head. 

"Yeah of course we shouldn't have any issues Tash. Leave it to me." You tell her as I adjust your glasses, quickly looking over her file as Tasha exits, closing the door behind her, "Wanda Maximoff, 25, born in Sokovia." You say out loud as you walk around your desk to the other couch across from where she's sitting criss-cross. You take notice she's taken her shoes off and smile, taking note of the fact that she’s comfortable enough to do something like that. "I'm Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. I'm 19. I'm also an Avenger. I have a power that allows me to see auras and emotions. I can also influence people's emotions and use my voice to influence others around me." You tell her a little about yourself first to help make her comfortable with talking about herself.

"You're 19? How are you a doctor?" She finally talks and you can hear her thick Sokovian accent which is like music to your ears. 

"I'm very smart. Graduated high school at 12 finished my Doctorate last year for psychiatry and Tony took me in as the Avengers Psychiatrist shortly after that. Everyone here needs a little bit of help and that is what I'm here to provide for you." You smile at her as you open a fresh notebook for her, choosing a red covered one noticing that she was wearing Tasha’s red leather jacket. "So tell me a little about yourself. Anything you want." You ask as you jot down her basic info on the first page. 

"I love American sitcoms." she tells you first. You smile and look at her over your glasses. 

"Why is that?" You ask as you jot down her words. 

"We used to watch them as a family every night so we could learn English." She tells you making a smile appear on your face. 

"When you say we who does that entail?" You question the Sokovian wanting to get to the root of her problems. 

"My Mama, Papa, and Pietro..." She tells you solemnly. 

"Who is Pietro?" You inquire, looking up from your notebook. 

"He is...was...my twin brother." You jot down everything she says during your session and she does open up a little bit with some persuasion on your part, but that isn't unusual for your sessions. 

"Well Wanda thank you for opening up to me. Your aura is looking a little warmer from when you first walked in. How about you come back in three days for another session?" You tilt your head as you grab a little card for her. 

"Why three days?" She asks nervously, tugging at her sleeves attempting to cover her hands, but the jacket doesn't budge. She starts picking at her nails as an alternative, chipping the black nail polish further. 

"I like to have frequent sessions the first month. Then we'll have them weekly just like the others." You let her know and she nods her head as you write the date and time for her to show up on the card for three days from now. Standing up with her, "I offer a high fives, hand shakes, fist bumps, or a hug at the end of sessions. Which would you like?" You ask and she's thrown off a bit by the statement at first but then answers. 

"Hug. I could use a hug right now." You open up your arms and let her come to you. She ends up crying in your arms as you sooth her, letting her know it is okay to cry. 

"I'll always be here for you Wanda. I'm always on your side." You whisper to her and she holds you tighter at the words.

You sat back down at your desk after Wanda left, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Empathy for Wanda's pain, determination to help her heal, and a lingering sense of dread about what HYDRA had done to her. But you pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the task at hand.

As the Avengers' psychiatrist, it was your responsibility to help your teammates navigate the mental and emotional toll of their work. Sometimes that meant delving into painful memories or difficult emotions, but it was a role you took on willingly. After all, you had your own share of struggles, and if you could use your powers to help others, then it was worth it.

You glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time for lunch. You decided to take a break and head to the common area, where you found Tony tinkering with one of his suits.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted you with a grin. "How's it going?"

"Good," you replied, sinking into a nearby chair. "Just had a session with Wanda. She's been through a lot."

Tony nodded solemnly. "Yeah, losing her brother and all that HYDRA stuff... it's rough."

You sighed, running a hand through your Y/H/C hair. "Yeah, but she's strong. I think she'll come through it."

Tony gave you a reassuring smile before returning to his work, and you took a moment to appreciate the camaraderie of the team. Despite your differences and the challenges you guys faced, you were a family, bound together by our shared experiences and our commitment to protecting the world.

After a quick lunch, you headed back to your office to prepare for your next session. As you reviewed your notes from Wanda's session, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her story, something hidden beneath the surface. But for now, all you could do was continue to offer her support and hope that she would find the strength to confront her demons and emerge stronger on the other side.

With that thought in mind, you square your shoulders and prepare to face whatever challenges lay ahead. As an Avenger, a psychiatrist, and a friend, you were ready to do whatever it took to help your teammates and protect the world from whatever threats may come our way.

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

Three days passed in a blur of meetings, training sessions, and the occasional emergency mission. But today, you were back in your office, eagerly awaiting Wanda's return for your second session. As you sat at your desk, reviewing your notes from your previous meeting, you couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her. Losing a loved one in battle was something you could relate to all too well.

Before you could dwell too much on your own past, there was a soft knock on your door, and Wanda stepped into the room. Her aura seemed a bit brighter today, though still tinged with sadness. "Hey, Wanda," you greeted her with a warm smile, motioning for her to take a seat. "How are you feeling today?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment before answering, "Better, I think. Thank you for... everything last time."

You nodded, understandingly. "Of course. It's what I'm here for." You gestured toward the notebook on the table. "Shall we pick up where we left off?"

For the next hour, the two of you delved deeper into Wanda's past, her memories of Sokovia, her time with HYDRA, and her experiences with her brother, Pietro. With each word she spoke, you could feel her emotions swirling around you, and you did your best to guide her through them, offering comfort and support where you could.

As your session came to a close, Wanda seemed visibly lighter, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Y/N," she said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of fulfillment wash over you. "Anytime, Wanda. Remember, I'm always here for you."

Before she left, Wanda surprises you by reaching out and giving you a tight hug. "Thank you," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion.

As you watched her leave your office, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to help someone in need, to make a difference in their life, even if it was just one session at a time. And as you glanced down at the Power Stone embedded in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was the true source of your ability to connect with others on such a deep level. But for now, all that mattered was that you were making a difference, one session at a time.

[delulu-baddie]

too sorry too late

A/N This is part 2 to girl in the mirror so if you haven't read that yet, make sure to check it out. Thank you guys so much for all of the positive feedback I got on the first part. I hope you enjoy.

Summary Paige comes back to make things right before realizing she's too late

Warnings Lots of swearing

Paige Bueckers x Reader

Paige’s POV

 I don’t know why I've been acting this way, I just want everything to go back to how it was in the beginning, when we were planning our future together and genuinely happy. I went to the gym to go shoot some baskets to cool off some after walking out after that fight. I don't know what I was thinking, I know that those things aren't true about y/n and I also know that she's been going through a hard time recently and here I am putting her down even more. I love her really, but I've been doing a shitty job of showing it. Spending nights partying with friends after promising her I would spend time with her and refusing to talk to her when she would bring up the things I did that was hurting her. I would never cheat on her and I know I shouldn’t have taken that receipt, I was well aware of what that waitress was trying to do, I just didn’t know how to react to it so I just crumbled it up and threw it in my pocket completely forgetting about it.  I never had any intentions on calling her but when y/n started making assumptions about my intentions I just added more fuel to the fire. I need to go back home and fix this right now, fix us right now before it's too late. 

Before heading back I stopped at the store and picked up some of her favorite flowers. It's something small but I need her to know that I'm trying. I think the store owner could tell that I was going through it because she ended up giving me a discount on the bouquet which doesn't usually happen. I hopped back in the car and sped back home to make this right with my girl and let her know how much I love and appreciate her. She's been there for me through it all. When I got hurt sophomore year she sat there with me through my whole recovery time period, came to all of my physical therapy appointments, just to show me that she's here to support me, and here I was not even giving her the reassurance that she's the only girl that I want, the one that I8 want to spend the rest of my life with. 

I park the car and walk up to the front door taking a deep breath before walking in. I noticed that all of the lights were off, so I'm assuming that she fell asleep after I left. I quietly make my way to the room and quickly notice that she's not there. Maybe she was on the couch and I missed her, I think to myself. I walk back over to the living room and realize she's not there. I walk back to our bedroom to see if she's in the bathroom and quickly notice the necklace I gave her tonight sitting neatly on my nightstand. That was enough to make my heart drop to my stomach. I quickly grab my phone and dial her number, but I get sent straight to voicemail, I call six times, and get sent to voicemail every time. I decided to text her to make sure she's okay and immediately noticed the text bubble turned green. “SHIT” I yell out, not caring if my neighbors hear. I fucked up badly this time and I need to figure out a way to bring her back.

It’s almost midnight and I should give her some time but I can't let her leave. I quickly grab my keys and make my way to my car, figuring she's at her best friend y/fn’s house and make my way over there. The drive is short, mainly due to the fact of me speeding well over the limit trying to get there as quickly as possible. My heart is racing and I have tears running down my face just trying to figure out how I could let things get this bad.I see her car parked outside, which is a good sign, at least I know she okay and  I make my way out of the car and knock on the door which gets opened my y/f/n. “What do you want, Paige?” she asked me with a clearly annoyed look on her face. “ I just want to speak to her” I say to her  “please” I beg, my voice cracking slightly. “She doesn't want to sp-” she starts before getting cut off by y/n “Its fine, just give me a minute, i'll be right back” y/n says before stepping outside shutting the door behind her. I take a good look at her, her eyes are puffy signifying she had been crying. 

 “So?” she asks with no expression on her face. “ Look, I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, I know what I said hurt you and I also know that none of it is true” I begin “ you should be able to come to me with your problems and I should be there to comfort you, not bring you down like I have been. I miss us, the real us, the ones that would stay up well past the time we should be awake, just talking and sharing small kisses. I'm aware that I messed up, and you don't have to accept my apology, but I need to get it out before I lose you for good. I promise you I'll change, I'll do better and I'll treat you how you should be treated. I love you, I have for the past two years, I want to marry you some day and start a little family together. Please just give me the chance to make things right.” I ramble, grabbing her hand. “Paige, I appreciate the apology, but it's already too late. These last few months have been miserable for me, and it was because of you.” she says starting to tear up “I would give anything to go back to the way we were, but I can't take anymore. I've changed, I barely look like myself anymore. I'm constantly getting torn down by you, we can't even have a conversation without it turning into some sort of altercation. I'm sorry but I don't see myself being with someone who acts like this, let alone having children with them.”

I looked at her hoping she would see in my face how sorry I was. After a minute of silence I break down, sitting on the curb crying into my hands. She sits down next to me, putting her hand on my back. “You're not a bad person Paige, you just started going down the wrong path, and I know one day you're going to find someone that you can love and treat right, but I can't sit here waiting for you to become that person.” she says looking over at me. I lift my head and wrap my arms around her crying into her shoulder “I'm so sorry” I sob into her shoulder. “I know you are, but this is for the best, I need to learn to love myself before I can love someone else, and I have you to thank for making me realize that.” she says lifting my  head off her shoulder to make me look at her. “This is for the best. I can't love you more than I love myself, not anymore” she says with a frown on her face. I've always hated seeing her sad, which is why any time we fought I would leave, because I couldn't cope with the fact that I was causing the love of my life to experience pain, but now I've lost her for good and there's nothing else that I can do about it.

“I love you” I say to her, grabbing her and pulling her into one last hug with a kiss on her forehead. “I love you too” she says before separating away and walking back into the house, giving me a small wave and closing the door. I run my hands down my face walking back towards my car, taking in what just happened. I lost the best person to come in my life, I ruined her and made her feel like she didn’t matter to me. I'm not sure how I'm going to get over this, and I hope that one day we can at least be friends, but I need to give her space and allow her to grow without me, and hopefully find someone who appreciates her the way that I should have.

[bringmeanangel]

Unknown Reason

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner and you Warnings: anxiety, Mentions of Anxiety. Mentons of weird dreams. Deep pressure therapy. Synopsis: You wake up feeling anxious for some reason and Aaron takes care of you

A/N: This was my this morning. I have been having nightmares and weird dreams since December. Wish I had Aaron.

You woke up this morning from a really strange dream. You have been having all sorts of weird dreams for a month and a half and you sort of know the reason why. You have a lot going on, lots that are not in your control.

You looked at the clock and saw that it as 9:30am. You slept in, which you have been doing a lot of lately and it bothered you. You normally would get up between 7 and 8am.

You got up and started to do you morning routine. You got dressed, took your pills, went to the bathroom and brushed your teeth and you made your bed.

You noticed Aaron's running shoes were gone, so you knew he was out for his morning jog.

You started to feel your heart racing and you felt a bit shaky. You made your way to the kitchen and settled on cold water instead of coffee which would only make your symptoms worse.

You made your way back to your shared room with Aaron and turned the lights off. You closed the door, changed from your t-shirt to your sweatshirt and sat on the bed.

You grabbed your fuzzy blanket, that technically is a baby blanket, however the texture really helped soothe you. It was fuzzy and you were no stranger to feeling this way.

Laying down, you bunched the blanket up a bit, placing it on your shoulder, using it like a pillow. You rubbed the corner with your fingers and feeling the warmth, you noticed how to started to relax.

You heard the front door open and the dropping on Aaron's shoes. You heard him in the kitchen getting something and then slowly the bedroom door creaked open.

"Hi" you said, quietly.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" concern and urgency was in his voice.

Aaron kept his distance partly because he was so sweaty and needed to shower.

"Woke up with my heart racing. feeling shaky. I have water though and the blanket is helping."

"Let me take a quick shower and then I will take care of you." and you nodded.

"Thank you. Sorry" you looked down.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. Give me ten minutes."

You looked at the clock and then closed your eyes, focusing on the blanket and how you were feeling.

You heard the door creak open and the bed dip. You opened your eyes and sat up moving forward so he could sit behind you.

You took the opportunity to drink some water as he settled behind you.

"Do you want the sound of a rain storm or no noise?" he asked.

"Well, actually, could we watch Gilmore Girls?"

Aaron smiled softly and grabbed the remote getting it up on the TV, but putting the volume low. Once you were ready you leaned back and adjusted the blanket.

"You tell me if you need more of less pressure." he whispered before wrapping his arms around you.

Deep pressure Therapy was something you found helped you. They have lots of different ways it can be given. Even a weighted vest, but you knew that you needed physical contact.

Aaron was always the calming energy you needed whenever you felt this way. Whether you knew why you were feeling this way or not.

"Is this alright, baby?" he murmured and you nodded.

"Mmhm." you ere feeling relaxed already. "I don't know why this happened."

"That's okay. You still got through your routine and you got water and took care of yourself until I got home. I'm here now. Let me take care of you."

[pixiesfz]

blessing in disguise j.r

plot: Jill tore her acl but she's just glad she gets to spend more time with the new physio

warnings: none atm

It was your first week as a new physio when Jill tore her ACL, your eyes widened when you heard "How many ACLs have happened this year?" you ask your co-worker Ally as you walked to the room, she was seeing Chloe Kelly as you were to see Jill "too many".

You were laughing at a joke when you opened the door. Jill was already sitting down, still tired from her surgery but her eyes widened when she saw you.

Your smile was beautiful and your hair flowed behind you, you held a coffee and files from Jill's hospital surgeon. You had on a man city jumper and your own jeans which Jill is embarrassed to say fit you quite nicely.

"Hi I'm Y/n and I'll be your personal physio during these 9 months" You introduced yourself with a handshake which Jill accepted "are you new I've never seen you before," she asked and you nodded your head "I just started last week" you smiled and Jill smirked "Sorry for interrupting your slow start"

You laughed as you set up your set "honestly it's fine but I am sorry about your ACL" you frowned as both your eyes fell to her knee which was covered by a nude bandage.

"I would say it's okay but it's really not" Jill said with a shrug and you nodded "It's not ideal but with lot's of therapy and check ups I plan to have you out on the field as soon as I can" you smiled.

"So before I poke at your delicate knee how about we learn about each other a nice ice breaker" you suggested, grabbing a chair and sitting in front of Jill who nodded.

"Do you have any pets?" she asked and you shook your head "Not yet but I plan to" you said "Do you like it here in Manchester?" you asked and she nodded "It's really nice and different from Germany".

You grew comfortable with Jill quite quickly as she did with you and as you passed her the crutches and helped her up she looked back at you "I thought of one more question" she announced "shoot"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

You couldn't help the slight blush that spread across your cheek "No, especially no boyfriend but as of now I'm single" You smiled before you both bid goodbye.

You met with Ally after your shift as you ate fast food at a random beach near the City head quarters.

"Chloe just kept on talking about her wedding plans it was funny" she laughed and looked at you for information "Jill asked me if I had a boyfriend" you laughed and Ally slapped your leg and you winced "what was that for?" you asked, rubbing your leg.

"She was so hitting on you!"

You rolled your eyes "no she wasn't she was probably just intrigued" you told her and Ally gave you a pointed look before mummbling "intrigued to get in your pants"

This time you hit her.

"Ow!"

Jill was sitting and watching training when Chloe sat next to her "So did you meet the new physio, what she like?" she asked and Jill blushed.

hot. she thought.

"She's really nice, I just apologized that her first job was an ACL she didn't really mind though" Jill told the blonde who nodded "Is she pretty?" Kelly asked and Jill looked at her "Why would that matter?"

"Because you are lonely and it's sad to watch"

Jill raised her eyebrows at her friend's confession before Mary and Kerstin came over and agreed with her.

"Okay well to answer your question, yes she is very pretty" Jill shared with blushed cheeks "but she is also my physio and not my girlfriend"

"That's how all love stories start!" Mary smiled with joy and her national teammate just patted her non injured knee.

"ga er gewoon voor, als je het verprutst, zijn er andere fysio's" Kerstin shrugged and Jill covered her mouth in shock of her words "I am not dating the new physio!" she said in shock.

(just go for it, if you fuck it up just go to another physio)

“I don’t know what you just said” Mary frowned at her friend before they all walked off with smiles.

For Jill’s next appointments with you her little crush had turned into a big crush and you can’t say that you didn’t feel the same.

The blonde Dutch girl was beautiful and you constantly left the room with a smile and red cheeks.

When Jill’s next appointment with you arrived she couldn’t help but blush at the sight of you, you were still in your uniform but your hair was brushed up into a pony tail that showed off your cheek bones.

“How does it feel?” You asked and Jill just nodded “it’s alright to walk now” she said and you smiled “that’s amazing Jill” you told her and she smiled.

“I wanna see you walk, just incase I see a bend or something that I can help you with” you said as you held your clipboards.

“Right now?” Jill asked and you nodded “we can walk up to a coffee shop nearby, I haven’t had my coffee yet and it will be beneficial” you smiled and Jill laughed at your excuse to get a coffee.

“Do you need to see me walk or are you using me to get coffee?” she smirked and you breathed in

“Would it be bad if I said both?”

You and Jill were laughing together as she started walking and you filmed for her tik tok she wanted to make.

“I’m really proud of you Jill this is great” you told her and she blushed but thankfully it was cold so she could blame it on the weather.

You both got your coffee and sat down together, to anybody nearby it would look like a date.

“How bout some more fun facts about each other?” Jill suggested and you nodded your head. “I have two dogs, both cocker spaniels” you smiled “what are their names?” Jill asked you smiled “well one’s name is Rocky and the other one is named Shaggy”

“Shaggy!?”

“My sister named him not me!” You defended yourself as you both laughed.

“Okay what about you?” You asked the blonde who thought for a second “I’m kind of happy to at I’m injured”

You were shocked and cocked your head “why, you can’t play the sport you love?”

“Yeah but you get to try new things and meet new people” she explained and you smiled “I guess you would have never met me”

“Exactly” she responded and you blushed.

For the next couple of months not either of you had made a move which was weird to all of your friends.

“She definitely likes you back Jill”

“Y/n I swear to god if you do not ask her out I will injure you”

Ally was a bit more forward than the city girls.

It wasn’t until your sessions with Jill were coming to an end she realised that she really had to make a move on you but she really didn’t know how to.

After all maybe you were just really nice to her because you had to.

It was your job.

But when they did end and she made her way back onto the field it was always you she looked for in the crowd or next to the bench with your take away coffee in hand.

“I think I rolled my ankle” Jill told you as she saw you walking in the head quarters, your brows rose “well where does it hurt, do you want me to bandage it?” You asked and the girl nodded as you took her to your room.

“This is your third rolled ankle in two weeks Jill I’m not sure you can play” you tutted as you went away at your computer, writing down about her visits.

Jill rolled her head back.

Couldn’t you just get the hint.

“Is it a certain drill that you keep doing that-“

“I didn’t roll my ankle y/n” Jill interrupted you and you furrowed your brows “I was about to write you off for the game Jill!” You told her “why on earth would you lie about that?”

Jill felt small as you looked at her with mostly concern but you also had anger as she had lied to you but know she was forced to tell the truth.

“Well I like hanging out with you”

Your face softened and the dutches words “You don’t have to be injured to talk to me” you told her and she shrugged “I guess I was too scared”

“You? You scoff “scared?”

Jill laughed “oh cmon when you ask your crush out it’s hard”

Your cheeks blushed “so I’m a crush?”

Jill’s eyes popped and her cheeks reddened “I didn’t mean to say it out loud” she panicked

You just smiled and placed the tape that you were going to place on her down “I get it, asking your crush out is hard, that’s why I haven’t asked you out yet”

Jill turned to you with a smirk “So I’m a crush?”

“Shut up” you laughed and wiped your hands on your pants “y/n?” Jill asked and you looked up “yes Jill?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smiled “I would love to”

[longlivedelusion]

Hii, I saw you were doing requests for Marauders era things... Would you be keen to do a jegulus fic? would love to see them with a neurodivergent reader or something 💞 thank you !!! Ok if not comfortable

Thank you for your patience anon, if you're still around! Inspiration finally struck as I'm currently working through my own processes with my neurodivergent & mental health things. So I felt like what better time than now to write some fic therapy? Hope you enjoy! 🤍

The Art of Trying

Warnings: some angst and miscommunication. Good ending tho. My own personal portrayal of how neurodivergency shows up for me 🤍 but I know it's a spectrum for everyone. I'm no expert, just a human existing and trying.

James knew your routine well. He'd even adjusted some of his own so it could match up with yours well, which luckily didn't take too much effort given you were both early risers. Regulus, however, was the night owl of the three of you. He only woke up well after James and you had finished your morning tasks, and would work around the house quietly at night. But despite this, you'd all found a peaceful compromise in your daily lives so that this relationship could be at its absolute best. Thriving, he would say.

That was until Regulus got a new job that required him to be out by 8am. Which meant, a change in how you all lived and did things.

For James, the change was easy. He thrived with more people around, and waking up at the same time as his other partner felt like heaven. But for you... He knew this was a lot harder on you than you were admitting.

It started off fine, you also enjoyed the extra kisses and cuddles the first day, the second even. But James could tell that as you settled down after the excitement, the reality must have set in because you stopped making eye contact with them on the third day. Avoided their touches on the fourth.

By the end of the week, your voice turned cold.

"Can I please have some room." You mumbled out with a bit of an edge. Your body sliding carefully by Regulus's but not touching him. Reggie was making breakfast, some sort of omelette situation, but that meant there was cutting boards and cheeses and utensils all around and no space.

James was sitting at the breakfast nook with his coffee, reading over the Daily Prophet when he perked up at the tone.

"Of course darling," Regulus said, wand out immediately as he tidied up. "Apologies for that. Would you like an omelette?"

You grabbed your usual bowl, your yogurt, not even looking up to answer. "No thanks." You grabbed your things, saying a quick have a good day before you left for the bedroom and closed the door shut.

Now Regulus had been aware you were having a hard time adjusting, they'd anticipated it even. So he tried his best to accommodate your needs, but at the same time he had his routines as well. And he struggled the same, if not differently from too many changed to his own routine. James could tell the cold and distant attitude was affecting Reggie now as well, despite how patient he tried to be.

"Reggie y'alright?"

"No, James. I am not alright." Reggie sighed. "I feel like as if walking on glass, and by the time I get to work my day feels ruined. They barely look at me, barely talk. Anything I do I feel as if it's wrong and I cannot- I don't want to shut them out. I don't want to shut down." He took a shaky breath in.

James was up in a moment, wrapping Regulus up in his arms. "I know, I know." He paused, focusing on easing his partner while he thought. "Maybe it's time we talk about it again, yeah? I know we discussed the change before, but it's obviously affecting them and you both more than you expected."

Regulus sighed as he rested his head on James' chest. "I suppose your right. I miss them, James."

James' heart cracked, "I know baby, but we can fix it yeah? This is fixable."

James felt Reggie nod on his chest. "Yeah," he mumbled.

He pulled Regulus back by his arms, "Would you rather talk to them now or after work?"

Reggie paused before letting out a breath. "Now, please."

He nodded and took Reggie's hand into his own, making their way to your bedroom as James knocked on the door. "Lovely?"

"Yeah?" He heard you mumble from within.

"Can Reggie and I come in for a moment?"

There was a long pause, an obvious tell on your end that you were aware that there would be a conversation happening. He gave you space to mentally prepare, waiting until eventually you let out a soft "Sure."

As James opened the door, they found you with your bowl empty and your tea forgotten, instead your back sat straight against your bed while you twisted your fingers in the top sheet.

"We just wanted to check in for a bit. Mind if we sit?" James said.

"What's up?" You said in a forced, nonchalant tone. He noticed as your gaze focused on their interlocked hands.

"Darling, we've noticed you've been shutting down more lately, and we've just wanted to see how you're feeling if that's alright." James started.

You nodded and he boys moved to the space across from you, an awkward silence filling the air. Your hands kept twisting at the sheets nervously until you'd notice and stop. Then just started up again.

Your faced dropped into a mix of guilt and sadness. "I'm... adjusting."

"We know these things take time, of course." James placated, noticing Reggie's own guilt and frustration rising in his expression. He squeezed his hand. "But you haven't really talked to us much since the change in schedules, and it feels a bit like you're shutting us out is all. We're worried."

You chewed your lip, eyes glancing about as you thought. Not once landing on them.

"I just- I'm having uh... Hard time with. The difference." You managed out.

James nodded. "How so?"

"The sounds, the space, it's... just different. And I feel myself getting frustrated, and I don't wanna get mad at you guys because it's my brain, not you. You're not doing anything wrong. So I stay as long as I can, but it's just getting harder and I-" You choked out as you crashed your head onto our palms. "I just don't wanna take it out on you, I'm sorry. I don't know how to deal with this yet."

Reggie spoke up then, his voice calmer as his hand reached out to touch the fabric in front of you. "Darling, look at me please."

You looked up warily as Regulus scooted closer, leaving James' side. "May I?" He asked, raising his palm up.

You placed your hand in his.

"It's not easy, when it feels as if our brains are working against us." Reggie started. "It's as if we are not cut out for the world and the world was not made for us. We may not be able to control how our brain interprets or how our body reacts, but we can choose and train ourselves to do the best we can. To try."

Regulus reached up slowly to touch your face, giving you time to pull away if you so chose. "I want to try. I don't want my own inside rules to stop me from loving you the way that I want. The way you deserve." He paused, taking a deep breath in and out. "But I also need you to trust me. To talk to me. This morning, yesterday, I-"

You nodded, but kept your gaze down. "I'm sorry, I know this is a lot and I genuinely wish I knew how to deal with this better. Communicate better. I'm not... I'm not gonna be perfect at it. It may come out wrong."

Regulus seemed to struggle with his words, so James gladly chimed in, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We just want to support you as best as we can, but we also need to make sure we're all good too. And the only way to do that is if we talk about it. Are you okay with that lovely?"

Regulus tilted your now tear stained face up. "It doesn't need to be perfect. Just try, okay? And I will too. I most definitely do not say the right things always, nor do I express myself very well. Yet you've always been patient and non-judgmental of it. Can you trust me to be the same?"

You held his gaze, doubt blooming behind your eyes. "I trust you, I just-"

"Have been hurt by plebians before who couldn't deal with honest communication," Regulus finished.

You looked down at that and nodded slightly.

"We don't want you to be perfect," James supplied. "We just want you. As you are, as you've always been. That's all we want."

You met his gaze and reached across to James. It's like his body could finally relax, touching you. "I'm sorry I didn't talk to you guys about it. That I just shut you out."

"S'alright lovely. We get it." James said. "Maybe this is something to talk about with your therapist, yeah?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I haven't seen her in a while. Probably should."

James couldn't help but smile at you, at how much he knew that phrase alone took you ages to get even comfortable saying. Going to a therapist and finding one you trusted. He felt himself fill with pride.

Regulus's voice was the one to break the comfortable silence. "Well I also get it, but it wasn't alright. I've had to deal with work and life all without your cuddles and I've been quite remiss to be honest." James could of sworn a sort of pout apparated on Regulus's face as he spoke and then disappeared just as quickly.

Regulus nodded before you leaned in for a quick kiss. Then turned to place one on James as well.

Slight amusement traced your lips, but you surprised them when you spoke with a deep sincerity instead. "I'm sorry Reggie. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Well! I don't know about you, but that just gave me all the energy I needed today," James said with the biggest smile on his face.

You laughed, a beautiful laugh, at the same time Reggie scoffed but didn't disagree. He even went to kiss you again.

James knew that things might come up again, that it's wasn't all solved. But you loved each other, trusted each other. And that was enough.

[eggluverz]

omg omg omg my therapy blog!!! ok. so. Highschool AU! Dan Heng x Fem! Reader It's basically Jing Yuan setting up his besties together. For some context: -Dan Heng's the student gov. president and is descending into a void of unhealthy perfectionism -So Jing Yuan is trying to get him a gf to take his mind off things...And reader (his other bestie) is the perfect candidate... I'm excited how you'll write this!!!

NO TIME TO WASTE

PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader

GENRE. modern au, school au, fluff

WORD COUNT. 2,349

SUMMARY. dan heng's a workaholic, you're the only one who can get him to look away from his work, and jing yuan thinks the two of you just need to get together.

SOF'S NOTE. thank you anon for the request!! fhsjgfds therapy blog 🥹 i hope u enjoy! it can be read as hs or college au i didn't specify! but i loved student pres dan heng and meddling jing yuan LOL ty for reading! 🥰

Jing Yuan watched as his friend slowly spiraled into insanity. It was the quiet type of insanity— One in which his friend was staying up late and not getting enough sleep, only focusing on grades, classes, and extracurriculars, taking on way more responsibilities than a normal, sane person could handle, and even neglecting his social life and connections for it all.

Dan Heng continued to switch between his daily planner and the notes on his laptop, furiously typing away and completely oblivious to Jing Yuan’s concerns. 

Resting his head on the palm of his hand, Jing Yuan examined the student body president wordlessly. He knew being head of student government was a lot of work— Even as the secretary he found the workload to be almost overbearing at times. But that wasn’t a good reason to completely ignore other integral aspects of life.

“Sorry I’m late!” 

Jing Yuan looked up at the sound and instantly smiled. 

You walked through the door with three bubble teas in hand. As vice president of the student government, you frequented the counsel room along with the other members for study sessions after school. There was such thing as student council privileges, after all. 

Dan Heng, who had been completely oblivious to Jing Yuan’s attempts to catch his attention, surprisingly lifted his head at the sound of your voice. 

“I got us drinks for our study session!” you exclaimed, passing out the boba before sitting in the open seat next to Dan Heng. You gathered the notebooks from inside your book bag and placed it on the desk in front of you. 

“Thank you,” said Dan Heng with a smile as he poked his straw through the plastic cover. “This one’s my favorite.” 

Jing Yuan noticed that was the most Dan Heng has said since he stepped foot in the student council room and an idea formed in Jing Yuan’s head. Perhaps the only thing that could cure a workaholic such as Dan Heng was love. Budding love between two stressed students.

Or, at least, a date.

His two best friends, president and vice president of student government, would certainly be a force to be reckoned with. 

Jing Yuan decided he had to take some action. For the greater good of his friend’s wellbeing, of course. 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

“So, what do you think of Dan Heng?” 

Your eyes widened at your friend’s words. They could have been innocent words that held no ulterior motive, if it weren’t for the fact they came from Jing Yuan’s mouth. 

He was too good at reading people and you were too transparent. It wasn’t exactly a great mix at times. For you, at least.

“W-What do you mean?” you coughed.

Jing Yuan had offered to drive you home after today’s study session and you happily obliged. While you found it strange he didn’t offer Dan Heng one as well, you paid it no mind since Dan Heng said he wanted to stop by the bookstore first anyway. 

Part of you wished you offered to go to the library with him, but you quickly brushed those thoughts aside. 

With one hand on the wheel, Jing Yuan glanced at you at a red light. “I’m only asking your opinion of him. Do you find him favorable? Handsome? Enticing even?”

Sitting up on your seat in high alert, you cautiously replied, “Perhaps, yes. Why do you ask?”

You weren’t one to tell lies; you saw no point in them. And Jing Yuan knew it too, hence why he is unabashedly asked such a crass question. 

He smiled. “My suspicions tell me he thinks the same of you.”

“As if,” you laughed. 

“I mean it.”

Raising your brow, you stared at him. “And what do you want me to do with that information?”

“Act on it, perhaps. Since Dan Heng seems too consumed by work to notice himself.”

“He seems too consumed by work to even notice me as anything romantic,” you corrected, folding your arms across your chest. 

Jing Yuan parked at your driveway as he arrived in front of your house, but you stayed inside the car for his response. 

“He is,” said Jing Yuan in agreement, nodding. “But that’s the issue— He’s unhealthily taking on too much schoolwork and extracurriculars and not caring for his personal life. Dan Heng would let something great pass him by without him even being aware of it.”

You couldn’t refute that, you thought with a dry smile. Dan Heng quickly became a good friend of yours after you both joined the student council, but you noticed he never really did anything outside of school and clubs. As a self-proclaimed overachiever yourself, even you made time to go on dates and spend time with friends. It was quite concerning the Dan Heng never did. 

“You are that something great, in case you missed it.”

Startled, you chuckled at Jing Yuan’s words. “I’m not too sure about that, but I am interested in him. Maybe a date would be fun!”

He leaned his head back on the driver’s seat, a lazy grin spread across his lips. 

Your stomach fluttered as the nerves set. “But do you think he’d agree?” 

“Only Dan Heng knows the answer to that,” said Jing Yuan. “However, from what I see, he’s more interested in you than in anyone else he knows.” He ruffled the top of your head and you batted his hands away with a giggle. “Give it a shot, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Jing Yuan! I will.”

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You had no clue why you thought listening to Jing Yuan would be a good idea. 

As you stared at Dan Heng with your eyes wide open, you couldn’t help but instantly regret the words that had just left your mouth. Still, you came this far; you couldn’t simply say, “Just joking! Please forget I said anything!” now. 

The man in front of you blinked slowly, seemingly speechless. 

Finally, he said, “Are you asking me?”

You almost choked on air at how dense he was. There was no one else in the student council room— Jing Yuan skipped out on today’s after school homework session solely to let you and Dan Heng have the room alone. 

“Yes,” you confirmed with a nervous laugh, “of course I was talking to you. We’re the only ones here.” You looked around the empty room that had the door closed. “I was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

Dan Heng titled his head to one side. “A romantic date, correct?”

You nodded, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your shirt. Softly, you said, “That’s correct.”

He smiled to himself but took his time to formulate his next sentence. The silence was unnerving, but the look of happiness on his face helped soothe the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I haven’t been on a date since I joined student government,” he admitted, drumming his fingers quietly against the table. “I haven’t had much time to even explore that part of my life lately. I might not be a very good date.”

You looked down at your textbook, avoiding his gaze as you braced yourself for a rejection. 

“But, if you’d allow me,” Dan Heng continued, “I’d still want to try to make it a good one with you.”

Your head shot back up, unsure if you heard him right. When your eyes met his, you noticed he was smiling as he awaited your response. 

“I’d love that!” you said, your expression soon matching his. “Are you sure you aren’t too busy, though?” 

He was president of the student government after all. And the annual concert your campus hosted was coming up soon— You knew Dan Heng would have even more on his plate in the upcoming weeks.

For a second, Dan Heng considered it. “I will be busy, but so will you.” He tapped the clipboard with a list of potential artists you had to book for the event on your head gently. “Still, I think I can make time for a date with you.” Hearing his words out loud, he frowned and instantly corrected himself. “I want to make time to date you. Because I’m interested in you, too. In a romantic way.” 

You giggled at Dan Heng’s his clarifications. It was a little messy and a little blunt, but it was very much him. And really, that’s all you wanted.

“How long have you known you were interested in me?” you asked, leaning forward and resting your chin on your palms, eagerly waiting for his reply. “As more than a friend, of course.”

He hummed. “It’s hard to say.” 

“Take your time.”

“I would say I felt different around you for a few weeks now, but, to be honest, I never pinpointed that as liking you or having feelings for you then,” he said after some deep thought. “I didn’t really entertain any thoughts of a potential romantic connection in the near future, so I’m not sure if I ever conceptualized what I feel in words before.”

You nodded in understanding, but still felt a bit downcast. It wasn’t unnatural to be unaware of your feelings, especially when trying to figure out what they meant was not your top priority. Yet, you were still saddened that Dan Heng didn’t have some huge confession to tell you like in the romance novels you had read. 

Before you could get too doleful, Dan Heng spoke up again. “But,” he interjected, “what I do know is that I felt drawn to you more than I felt with any other friends.” 

Your hand that was fiddling with the hem of your shirt stopped its moving as you focused fully on him. 

He looked away almost sheepishly, the apples of his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink known to man. “I always looked forward to these study sessions, and I could never wait to see you come in with a grin and a bag of snacks in hand, and sometimes I would wonder what it’d be like to get dinner with just you and not the rest of the council members after a Friday study session…” Dan Heng slowly turned his gaze back onto yours, gaining more confidence of his words. “If that is me liking you, then it’s been that way for a while now.”

Hiding a grin, you bounced up and down on your seat. “Yep, that sounds like you like me, if I do say so myself!”

At your reassurance, he laughed, any hesitation fading away. “Well, there we have it then.” He picked up his pencil and started twirling it around the tips of his fingers. “And, if I may ask, when did you realize you were interested in me?”

“Maybe a month or two now,” you said after a few beats. “I just never said anything because I didn’t think you were into me at all!” 

Dan Heng furrowed his brows but didn’t refute. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, after all. Especially when he didn’t know what exactly he was feeling himself. 

“Jing Yuan told me he thought you might be interested, so I figured it was worth a shot— I guess a small push was all I really needed.”

“Hmm.” He placed the pencil he was spinning back on top of his notebook. “Well, I guess we have Jing Yuan to thank for once. Not that he should get used to it”

You laughed at his crass words. Dan Heng and Jing Yuan always had some sort of one-sided fighting going on, namely on Dan Heng’s end, but you knew he viewed Jing Yuan as a close friend despite his sarcasm.  

“Right, we can’t let his head grow any bigger,” you teased with a chuckle. “But for this, maybe we owe him some gratitude.” 

“Agreed.” Dan Heng nodded. “Enough of Jing Yuan, though. Let’s talk about our date.” He ruffled through his book bag and pulled out a flyer from inside a folder. It was crisp and clean, but he straightened it out anyway before showing you. “If you didn’t already have something in mind, there’s a new exhibit at the museum that I think you’d love.” 

Your eyes briefly scanned the flyer and your excitement grew. “This looks great! I love museums!” you agreed readily. 

The art would be beautiful, the history would be interesting, and maybe, just maybe, Dan Heng would hold your hand as you walked through the exhibits and even give you a kiss at the end… You felt your cheeks heat up at the thought and you chastised yourself for letting your mind run wild. 

Clearing your throat, you snapped out of your fantasies. “And maybe after that, we can get dinner together?” 

He nodded, the corners of his lips upturned as he put the museum flyer away. 

“Great! Then all that’s left is picking day!” 

“This Saturday?” he suggested.

“So soon?” you said. “Eager, are we?”

“Yes, actually.”

Your stomach flipped at his honesty and you felt yourself growing bashful. “Well, I am too.” 

Dan Heng let out an amused breath of laughter. “I’m glad to hear that. I will pick you up at your house after lunch time then?”

“I can’t wait!”

The two of you basked in your shared excitement. You had assignments due, club meetings to prepare for, events to plan, yet the only thing you wanted to focus on right now was enjoying your time with Dan Heng. You wouldn’t let life pass you by and you wanted to take a chance with him. You hoped he felt similarly. 

Dan Heng took out his daily agenda, flipping to Saturday and drawing a giant happy face over the box. In small writing, you saw him note down, Museum date with Y/N. :)

You giggled at the sight, touched that you were important enough to go on his sacred planner. He even booked the entire day for you instead of scheduling you in.

“I’m looking forward to our first date,” Dan Heng stated happily as he packed his pen away. “Let’s make it a good one.”

[cuprohastes]

The Story (Re-Write)

Because so many people wanted to read the story, I had to explain a few times… It's gone. It's lost — I can't find it on Live journal or the Wayback Machine. I suspect it might have been on Google+…

Anyway, several people asked for it to be re-written. Between now and the past, a lot's happened, much of which makes for juicy plot points: And, so I'm serialising it… But only because if I tried to write it in one sitting, my brain would melt. So here's Chapter 1:

Trouble sleeping

Didn't Shakespeare write something about sleep? “Shut me in a nutshell, and I'll be hella good if I can get skibidi sleep?” 

Something like that. 

Larry was not getting sleep, or not enough. Every time he started to sink into the cloud of free association and relaxation, something skittered or whispered to him and jerked him back awake.

In an earlier time, he'd have blamed it on spirits or demons. More recently, maybe the effects of stress and mental health. His parents would have gone to therapy about it.

Larry, a modern person, brought up by Memers and soaked in tech his entire life, didn't have to guess.

It was the fucking wallpaper.

It'd sounded great when he put the first payment down for it. The installers had shown up, ground sixty years of Landlord Paint off the walls, leaving chunks of off-white Fordite all over the floor, and mounted the data-mesh.

Then they'd rolled the rubbery panels down over it, cutting them to fit, letting the test images calibrate and line up.

The first thing Larry put up was an immersive view of some idealised forest. Lush green ferns, a spritz of mist and shafts of smoky golden sun reaching through the trunks.

A week later, the first adverts popped up across the mars-scape he'd switched to. A can of SelZa sitting on a rock that developed a halo of text about how great drinking your pizza would be: Would you like to order now?

The Amazon link popped right up, and Larry had to look away before it took a casual look as an invitation to send him fizzy pizza water.

Soon the animated avatars of other brands were sauntering out from behind rocks to tempt him with Keto Water, Fréch Breeze (Guaranteed fresh air: No microplastics, with Extra Oxygen and Caffeine — Take a Breath of Fréche Air™), frozen pizza, and about a dozen competing Kombucha fermenters.

Larry thought he could live with it.

He was wrong.

Soon his soothing landscapes and themed views were plated in adverts, coruscating and blinking to get his attention. 

Phantom people stared in at him, vamping with designer goods and clothes.

Ad gremlins scampered around, making him twitch as the motion caught the periphery of his vision.

And the WindoWall had audio: The big panels vibrating to act as speakers, and picking up video through camera arrays, listening via a hundred microphones that could pinpoint him within the room.

Just part of life, he told himself.

But then he went to bed. 

The WindoWall darkened and spread an Aurora across one wall, a sprinkle of glittering stars. The audio changed to cancel traffic sounds — A soft chorus of frogs and pattering rain started to play — One wall developed a brazier of softly glowing coals…

Larry backflipped into relaxed unconsciousness hard.

… for ten minutes.

Larry woke, squinting at the sudden brightness:

An advert for SleepyTime Choc Hotlet tried to sing him a lullaby as a cartoon capybara with a fucking lamp demonstrated the sleep he could be getting if they hadn't woken him up to tell him how much better he'd be sleeping if he just bought some SleepTime Choc hotlet to drink!

The Capybara winked and turned off the light. Larry tried to get back to sleep. Fireflies danced gently around the room… and formed up to spell out the name of a mattress company.

Larry rolled over and closed his eyes.

An adorable gnome giggled at him and had a whispered, though perfectly audible conversation with a delightful bunny about how before bed she always used Freshens. Whatever they were.

Larry commando rolled out of bed, mashed his toe on something, screamed in pain, was offered three brands of slipper, four over-the counter painkillers and seven offers to sue someone for personal injury.

All of which were ignored as Larry pulled up the WindoWall app and pushed the brightness and volume to minimum — The glassy matte of the wall panels becoming black in the room lit only by the tablet screen.

Then Larry took some Ibuprofen and went back to bed.

45 minutes later he twitched and woke up to find the room lit by wall panels of text and still images for sleep aids fading in and out, and a soft sussurtion - Quiet Ad Reads that Larry suspected were supposed to subconsciously bias him to buying... Sleep Underwear?

In short succession, Larry found out that he couldn't sleep with an eyemask because the WindoWall started cranking the audio up now he wasn't looking.

And that ear plugs improvised from rolled tissue got him a volume increase and some recommendations about the mildest softest tissues — And he could save 15% if he subscribed!

And that was bad enough: Larry called up the WindoWall Customer Support after a sleepless night.

Customer Support turned out to be an AI avatar who appeared on the wall, using the built-in camera array to track Larry.

“Where are all these adverts coming from?” He asked. Starting simple.

The Face of WindoWall did a polite look of curiosity then, in rich, friendly terms, said “'Adverts' is short for Advertisements: a Method of promoting products....”

Typical answerbot, grabbing a definition from Wiki — But not resolving the query. Larry immediately asked for a real human being.

The Face argued that the chatbot could help, or else it could open the Support Pages for Larry. 

Larry insisted on a human and eventually hit on the correct keywords: “I want to talk to a human being - This is a complaint, please escalate.” And the Face went into an idle animation, repeating, “Our support staff are currently busy with other requests – Please wait. In the meantime you can use our AI responder or the support website” every minute or so.

Larry, familiar with the under-staffed human support departments, picked up a tablet and opened his current book-in-progress while he waited. 

Thumbing past a motion graphic for the series of re-writes of Terry Pratchett by an AI to add 50% extra hilarity and extended scenes, he opened Virtual Investigations: A Max Ransom Adventure...

She walked into my office feed like bad news wrapped in a pretty bow. No way she was real: A dame like that doesn't walk into a virtual office like mine. The wings wouldn't fit through the door. The angel looked at me with golden eyes and hair the colour of mocha - Like the mocha on my desk provided by CoffeeCourier™ – Roast and vacuum packed for freshness according to the quick personality quiz that matched me to the perfect coffee for my busy lifestyle. And you too can enjoy a cup of Mental-Fresh Mocha using code DETECTIVE10 “What's an avatar like you doing in my office?” I asked. In reality I was renting a VR space with a fold down bed and access to three busted washer-dryers in the basement. Online my virtual office was classy, just like you'd expect from a CubeSpace Virtual Site - CubeSpace use real scans to decorate your virtual space for the best in class work sites. Use DETECTIVE10 to get 10% off your own virtual office site for the lifetime of your subscription... She looked at me a moment then said “As an LLM I don't have a philosophy of mind to answer with. I'm here because you have 4.6 stars on Amazon Business Listings as a Detective.” I do. It'd be higher, but some people don't give you a good rating when you chase them for payment. Maybe I should stop showing up with a bill and a threat to post about thier broke asses on the Socials. “I will pay you for your services as a detective to locate my user.” She continued. I looked at her with fresh eyes. So, not someone with an angel kink – An actual House Assistant looking for it's user... the case just got interesting!

Larry was interrupted by the Face clearing its throat, now puppeted by a support worker. The Face's shirt turned green and developed a name badge saying “obj.user.name_1”

“Hello, my name is Shimonne, I'll be assisting you today. The uh notes say you want to know what adverts are...?” It said in the same voice – Corporate robbing its staff of even their own voice.

“Uh no,” said Larry, “I asked where all these adverts came from? Did the video stream get hacked?”

The Face paused and did a canned animation of looking at a tablet.

“Ah, as per the contract, WindoWall reserve the right to show adverts from...” a soft, tired sigh, “Select partners, to provide you with enhanced opportunities to discover carefully curated products” - Said in an equally tired monotone.

Somewhere, Larry assumed, Shimonne was getting dinged for non-compliant tone. But Larry appreciated the little bit of empathy.

A pop-up survey asking how the interaction was progressing slid up, invisible to the Face. Larry tapped a 5 for style and actual empathy. Fuck the Corporate Tone.

“Ok...” said Larry, “But that wasn't how it was sold to me.”

“I understand.” Shimonne said through the Face. “It is in the EULA.” They added, pronouncing it with a deliciously melodic ripple of vowels that even the Face's vocoder couldn't stamp into the carefully selected Midwest accent the marketing team for VirtuAgent had pushed.

So of course Larry asked, “How do I turn them off?”

And that's how Larry got upsold on the Premium Ad-Free tier.

Of course... He didn't read the EULA for that either.

------

OK now a bit about the story. It's very like a couple of Black Mirror Episodes. Even some Farenheit 451, Idocracy, Midnight Burger, Feed, a spritz of Snowcrash... a whole bunch of other stuff. Some of this I've read or watched, some I haven't. But I don't live in a void: Whatever's in here definitely 100% was isnpired in whole or in part by other works, or even current events, shitposts on Social media, memes on Imgur, even things on Tumblr: @marlynnofmany writes fantastic stories and pops up some seriously interesting questions about what day to day life would be like in a world where you can have a starship full of non-human intelligences deliver your packages. So if you're thinking 'This reminds me of..." the answer is probably "yeah that's right." :)

And now a snitch post for some people who wanted to be notified if the story ever showed up:

@ravencromwell @rocinantescoffeestop @vtothefun @call-me-b-please-and-thank-you @msimpossibility @museumofinefarts @faeriesaurus @starlo-official

[mehiwilldoitlater]

hai, this is my first time request in your blog,

May i've headcannon for Sun wukong x swan princess s/o (because I saw a post about them in your blog ) please.

This will be so romantic ❤️

Most of these headcanons are based on a modern setting! Mostly because it's funnier:

-Living together was one of the first things that these two wanted to do, mostly because they wanted their own privacy (small monkeys excluded) and mostly because they knew that they still knew how to live together as a couple. Of course they needed to make some setting rules, and, as much as some would not believe, Wukong was the one that came up with a cleaning schedule. The job changes every week, so no one can complain about "doing the same things over and over," which is quite helpful. Usually, they cook together!

Once she opened the door, the smell of frying meat met Odette's nostrils.

The view of a certain monkey moving around the kitchen was quite the view, even if it broke her heart a little.

"I'm back! Sorry I'm late; I met traffic in the subway!"

"How did you meet Traccif in the subway?" He laughed, moving his hand in the air. "No worries! I'm almost done here. Want to help me with the veggies?"

After discarding her coat, she tied her hair in a ponytail, putting herself to work.

-Date could be on common ground or be something that the other loves or would have loved to do, and the other is so in love to say no. Of course they have some lines that are better not to be crossed (not to be forced to partake in something that could remind them of some traumatic experience since both of them need a lot of therapy).

No one said that they could not complain about the activity, but never to the point of putting the date on the wrong mood. Then, we had the yoga accident…

They both sit in silence, one far too angry to speak to him, the other quite embarrassed to bring the argument on.

"…Do you really need to scream from the top of your lungs?" Odette finally spoke.

"She said to let all of our negative thoughts out of our mind!"

-If they argue, which can happen, not so much but can, they can stay for hours in silence in the same room, ignoring the other for no one knows how long. Despite being the rational one, Odette too had enough pride to not let her good heart be swayed by giving him right on something on which he was clearly wrong, and Wukong? Well, he's Wukong! He'll never apologize!….If he's sure that he's not the one to blame, of course.

The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall. Odette sat on the sofa, Wukong just on the complete opposite side. They avoided making any sound, any eye contact, or any possible thing that could make them talk. Her nails ticked like the clock on the sofa surface; Wukong's tail swayed like a snake.

"…I'm sorry if I overreacted." He finally said, moving his hand up. "I didn't mean for us to fight like that… and I'm sorry I had said something that had hurt you."

"…" She didn't speak, but she started to at least look at him.

"It's just…I really can't control myself…I still have issues."

"…I know you have them… and I appreciate your apology…"

"…Thanks…"

"……But I still think Gordon shouldn't let Michael leave Hell's Kitchen."

"SERIOUSLY—"

-Wukong loves Odette; that's a matter of fact. With her, it was the first time in his life that he didn't know how to talk or how to be a little smartass. He loves that fire in her, how elegant and yet so fierce she can be. He loves the fact that, given up, it seemed the easy way out; she still holds on to her pride and didn't give up at all. She is strong and intelligent, and he would literally move the moon for her... he did it once.

"I'm ridiculous."

"I think you're lovely…" she smiled, leading the small dance they had on the rooftop of the building. His height never was a problem for him, but trying to dance surely shows some cons from it.

"I can't even look at you properly!"

"Is the mighty Monkey King having height issues?" She smiled, making a quirky remark. He twitched his eyebrow, touched by that comment, then he smirked. In one movement he was able to swing Odette, holding her in a dip. She gasped, holding herself on him to not fall down on the cement.

"Now," he smirked, "I can enjoy the view!"

-Odette loves Wukong not only because he saved her, but also because he showed that he cared. All her life she was forced to accept the fact that she was supposed to marry the prince, who noticed only one trait of her (her beauty). Wukong not only noticed firstly how she really was but also what she could have been. She grew closer to him than she ever was with the other. To Odette, Wukong is the sun, who came to put some light in her life and give her a second chance, and she loves him for that. She supported him from the beginning and always did, and tried her best to be the reasonable voice of the two.

Her finger caressed his head, her nails slowly scratching his scalp, resulting in a small sound coming from his strong chest. He was purring; he allowed himself to do it only alongside his friend and her… she blushed, thinking how cute that was. She gently kissed him again, feeling a twitching under her lips.

"Are you awake?" she whispered; only the golden color from his irises responded to her.

She giggled, allowing herself to give him another kiss, which he followed immediately.

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

@sleepingdramaqueen @nerium-lil

@ibelieveinfairytales606 @freeflowhighway @crosspunzel @mymultiverseofmadness @twisting-echo @crimsonflameproxy

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666

[cringekind]

we are so back and by back I mean I'm watching season 2 of Hannibal with my sibling!! Hannibal S2 E1 Kaiseki

I totally forgot that the opening scene was part of the fight from mizumono! it's such a cool scene, pulls you in right away, but it did leave my sibling VERY confused at first lol

Hannibal is lowkey a weeaboo I'm sorry. like it's not because he got really into Naruto in middle school like a lot of weebs but he's a fucking weeaboo!!!! book and movie Hannibal are definitely worse in this aspect (Hannibal Rising......) but like it's present here too

Hannibals dramatic ass being like "I miss will" performatively in therapy only to literally miss him so bad he starts role-playing as him and staring longingly at the other chair in his office during Wills regular appointment time... already you can see he didn't really think through the reality of what Will being in prison means for him. But at the same time the amount of joy that he derives from seeing Will is prison as a result of his actions. he smiles all the way through his visit with Will, and he's practically giggling when Will says his internal voice sounds like Hannibal. freak behavior!! I'm glad Bedelia calls him out for being obsessed because girl he's sooooooo obsessed it's insane

and Will is just as obsessed!! like it's different because he knows he's been framed but both Chilton and Alana stressing that Will is so one tracked mind about Hannibal that he can't focus on anything else. He sits all day and thinks about him! and it's not even all bad thoughts because when Alana tells him to think of a safe space while hypnotizing him he immediately imagines himself at Hannibal's. not the stream he goes to intentionally, but Hannibal Lecter's dining room.

the moment that got me the most was Beverly visiting Will. the uncomplicated joy he feels upon seeing her, its the lightest he feels all episode, and then Beverly pulls out work and he just like entirely shuts down emotionally. and he can't say no because he can't help himself

the ear tube scene was soooooo gay. like lots of violence is already fairly erotic, what is a stabbing if not penetration, but the tube scene goes like above and beyond in that department. the amount Hannibal touches Wills face and Wills eyes rolling back in his head. like they want you to compare it to a blow job I'm sorry you can't tell me otherwise. GAY

all seasons of Hannibal love to quote directly from the movies and books but like in different contexts, but I feel like season two does this way more than season one. all over the place there are direct quotes, and it's not like I have the books/movies memorized so I'm sure I'm missing some. it works against the show sometimes because occasionally the quote is slightly clunky and misplaced imo

I own this season physically (I thrifted only the second season somehow?) and most of the episodes were "producers cuts" which I learned basically means they're more gorey so I guess I'll update if the episodes feel more graphic lol. very excited to be back rewatching more Hannibal <3

[junedenim]

2012

beneath the boardwalk, part 10 (series masterlist)

why'd you only call me when you're high?

warnings: a whole lot of angst, temptation, nostalgia, and nothing

word count: 10.4k

Squished between two couch cushions watching Real Housewives, I got a call from Alex. "Did I wake you?" He questioned. It was late or early depending on who you asked. I had been woken up from a cold I was suffering from. He had never gone to bed.

"No, no, I'm just sitting around, suffocating," I complained. His voice was rough, but not thick with phlegm like mine. He chuckled in a rhythmic format, beat after beat. He sounded like he was sinking into himself, his flesh turning to goo. I heard his lips smack together as if he was chewing on a piece of hay. I coughed, the harshness reaching him miles and miles away. "You alright?"

"Yeah." I think he was chewing gum. "Just got home."

I hummed with understanding. "Did you have a nice night?"

He made a noise of indifference. "How long you been sick?"

"Two days now and it's not getting any better." I sniffled and stuffed a tissue up my nostril, thankful that I lived alone. "Think I caught it at a New Year's Party. I'm worried I have mono."

"Why? You've been kissing a bunch of people?" His words hung in the middle of us. Both of us moving on from one another had been unspoken. We were still on a break for all intents and purposes, even if he was with Arielle. Another thing we never talked about. 

I gave the best laugh I could do without coughing. "It's supposed to be good luck. I also ate 12 grapes and banged bread against the wall."

"Did you really?" He amusingly asked.

"No, well, not the bread part." I sighed. "Now, I'm just sitting on the couch watching shitty reruns. I can't fall back asleep."

"Neither can I," he said.

I hesitated and curled up under my blanket. "Is that why you called me at 4 in the morning?" I said it with a laugh to ease any tensions that may arise.

"It's only 1 here."

"Right. I forgot about the time difference." It didn't seem right for him to be so far away permanently. None of this seemed like the correct order of things. It was a misalignment but there could be no corrective measure.

"Yeah, I kind of did too." There was a pause like he was thinking things over. Like he might have had something to say but now he couldn't find it. "I'll let you go then." In more ways than one.

*

Alex was a cloud. He was away on tour, far away and out of reach. We talked less but not intentionally. We both just got really busy and we didn't need each other for that constant contact anymore. I was plummeting toward the wildest time of my life and he was up to his usual unable-to-contact schedule. Somewhere in Australia first then opening for The Black Keys. Plus, he had Arielle.

The new girlfriend thing didn't bug me much, at least, not in the form of jealousy. It was a strange thing. I hadn't fully adjusted to the idea but it was much easier when he was nowhere near my life. If it had happened when we were younger, I think I would've punished myself for it, but I had grown into a far lighter figure who understood not everyone was trying to make a mark against me. Alex was living his own life, which for the past few years had been dedicated to one person. It was "seeing what else was out there."

I was alone for the most part. I saw Jackson nearly every day, whether for work or leisure, but I was getting used to being alone for long grasps of time. I spent time writing in my notebook like the old days. A therapy session that I locked away in a drawer. I rotted in my room for days. I watched all of The Sopranos, practiced the splits, and thought about getting a cat. It was winter and a very boring time.

But around the end of January, I did my first interview. It was small and nothing huge, but it was talking about my work in-depth for the first time with a stranger. I pretended I was talking to Alex.

Alex and I didn't stop talking completely. I called him on his birthday, briefly, and we had a long chat toward the end of January where we caught up with one another. Neither of us had much to tell. He had been touring. I had been crawling around New York doing next to nothing, besides book matters and talking about my "marketability."

Alex laughed at this. "Yeah, they tend to do that. Try to whittle you down to one trait."

"It's making me feel insecure." I laughed at it but it felt small inside me, burning its way out.

Alex hummed in agreement. "Well, at least you're not a pimple-ridden kid doing it."

It wasn't something he talked about much. He hated people giving him attention, yet he was in a career that commanded eyes to be focused on him. It was one of our many skimmed-over conversations. In some ways, it made me feel like I didn't know Alex. We both hid parts of ourselves from one another and knew that the other did this. That burning curiosity we used to have probably went out once we started to live with one another. You know someone for long enough that it begins to feel like you know every inch of them. I slept with him night after night but I wondered if I ever knew what was ticking on in his head before he fell asleep. What was he thinking when he sat outside with a closed notebook? Why did he turn away?

I didn't even know why I turned away. I wrote repeatedly in my notebook, questioning why I couldn't make it work with Alex. I resisted jumping into a relationship because of that. If I couldn't make it work with Alex then it probably wouldn't work with anyone, especially during that portion of my life. I didn't know what it meant to be alone, like really alone.

I deflected a lot. I even deflected earlier in this book. I was devastated by the loss of Alex and I don't think it hit me until much later because I always had an anvil weighing on the back of my head telling me it wasn't over. Arielle complicated those ideals and I think for a while I was on my back unable to regain upright status. I was flailing.

That's why I paused. When 2012 hit, I was forced into a corner. I felt distant from who I was but still so far away from who I was becoming. I felt like I was the roots of the tree that had been cut down. I was left to be a stump.

One night, over a joint, I told Jackson I didn't feel British. Jackson, a Californian boy through and through, did not understand this. He laughed from the high while the smoke just made me more disoriented. He told me that I was "perfectly British." To me, that sounded like some marketing strategy. That's what the book would be marketed as—a British girl coming to America; her cold skin meeting the California sun. It made me hate the book. Or I hated myself, the lines were blurring.

I thought I had grown away from forms of jealousy. I have just previously insisted to you that I experienced no feelings of envy toward Arielle...but I did. It was ignored and then it couldn't be. The "R U Mine?" music video featured Arielle and a "new" Alex. I'm not a fan of the insinuation Alex suddenly changed after we broke up, besides his hair and fresh Sheffield tattoo, I would come to know Alex was exactly the same. Alex never quite changes. He's always been suave. It's hard to take a 20-year-old as seriously as a 25-year-old, especially when he is still pimple-ridden.

I found my jealousy toward Arielle in regard to "R U Mine?" was the same as when Alex showed me "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts" because, honestly, since then Alex's only explicit romantic muse (the word makes me want to barf, but that's what I was) was me. It's the weird thing of being with a writer, especially with personal subjects. It's beautiful when it's for you but then you realize that it was never really for you. It was about you. Alex didn't write a song to make me feel loved. He wrote a song because he liked writing songs.

Unknowingly, I always felt that. It's why I didn't swoon every time I heard "Mardy Bum." I loved it as a song but it didn't feel like a love letter. I felt Alex's love in far different ways. As the years went on, I would find love letters in songs, but at the center, I found his love in crevices: a note from college, a smoke outside a pub, a cooked meal, folded laundry—god, I sound old.

But his love wasn't restricted to those songs. Just as my love isn't restricted to this tome. This is a love letter in pieces for Alex but it's also for my youth. I found around this time, I began to reflect on those early years. Nearly 10 years out from 2003, I became a preservationist. I jotted down my memory of my first conversation with Alex. I tucked it away in my drawer, no use for it yet.

*

Alex called me on my birthday. He wasn't too far away, somewhere between Portland and Boston on a bus. It was late with only an hour left to my birthday, which I had spent drinking with friends. It was a rather simple birthday. It could've been just another night, minus the cake (red velvet with frosted flowers on top of it) that Fennel and Kaka purchased for me.

Alex texted me in the morning. Something akin to Hey. Happy birthday. Al.

It was formal and if it didn't make me laugh so much I think I'd be hurt by it. But Alex always texted like that as if he was penning a letter. The letter was awfully short but it was sent at 4 AM, which made me believe he either had no sleep or had just woken up.

I was expecting more and I got more. When I was drunk.

"Hi," I said, shoving the phone to my ear as a subway train came roaring by.

He chuckled, hearing the noise. "Hi." He waited for it to pass fully before continuing, "Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"Did you spend it good?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty drunk."

"Alright, then, I won't keep you long."

"No," I insisted. "Stay on the phone with me." I was pleading. I didn't want to let go of him. "At least, until I'm home." I wasn't far away but I lied and acted like I was further away, keeping him on the line with me, even as we lost connection at various times.

"Sorry I didn't get you anything," he said halfway through the subway ride.

"I didn't get you anything,” I reminded him.

"Yeah. Feels weird."

We hummed in silence because we both knew how abnormal this was. We weren't friends. Alex and I were never friends. Nothing ever went away or could ever go away. We were struggling to redefine what we were. We could never disentangle from one another. It pulled us back toward one another, even when we shouldn't have.

"I was going to get you that, uh, milkshake maker so you wouldn't have to pay extra at Morgenstern's for one." I didn't know a person could get so emotional over a milkshake maker that they would feel like crying on the F train. I might be the only person ever.

It was such a stupid gift. I would probably get two uses out of the machine before it broke and it wouldn't be as good as Morgenstern's makes theirs and it would go to waste. Still, I can imagine if he did get it for me. How after I unwrapped it we would go to Morgenstern's and get a pint of ice cream and Alex would make me a milkshake. One just for me. If I was feeling generous enough, we'd share the straw.

None of this would have happened, even if we were together. He'd still be in between Portland and Boston and I'd still be riding the F, wishing he was with me. It was comforting that maybe I had done the right thing, even if it felt so hard.

"Well, you can get it for me for Christmas."

He laughed and said, "Okay."

*

Black leather loafers with black wool flannel trousers. A white poplin shirt, two buttons loose at the top and at the bottom. I had a black corduroy jacket that Jackson held for me. I felt like I was dressing up in my mother's clothes. I was doing book press. It was an unfitting experience but I held the hardcover book in my hand. It felt unnatural but I liked my authour's photo.

By that point, I was so far removed from the contents of the book. I started to second-guess it even coming out. It felt like my diary, even if it was evasive at times and cut out the personal from that time (Alex is not mentioned once, not even as the person I moved to LA for). Still, it was exposing, but it was real now and it was sitting in my hand.

Alex came to town a week later, opening for The Black Keys. I didn't see the show—things were getting too busy by that point. I asked Alex if we could meet for a quick lunch and he accepted.

We met at Westville, a cute restaurant, but by no means romantic. I felt a need for that to be clear. I worried about Arielle worrying that I was trying to "steal" Alex or whatever that meant. I don't think she ever did. After all, she had the guy and I was resigned with no longer having the guy. It wasn't the bitch fight it has been imagined to be.

I waited for Alex outside the restaurant, smoking a cigarette to achieve my all-time high of cigarettes per day (this was not a good year for my lungs). I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. I wanted to look cool but relaxed. I wore the previously mentioned black loafers to make it look like I didn't roll out of bed and throw some jeans on.

Alex wore the same thing: jeans, T-shirt, loafers...and a leather jacket. It was a hotter March day when spring was beginning to peek through and relieve the bitterness of winter. He was across the street stuck at a streetlight and I waved to him and he waved back. Then, we just stared at each other, waiting for the light to turn green.

He crossed, said hi, and hugged me. Every move was made with slight awkwardness. We hadn't been alone together since he moved out. "Have you been waiting long?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Got here early, just for a smoke. Do you want to go in now?"

"Yeah. Yeah." He bobbed his head.

I put my cigarette out and he followed me into the restaurant. "Your hair is back to normal." My natural brown. It was better for me to not play pretend when promoting a book about my own life.

"Yours isn't," I commented. It came off snarkier than I wanted it to.

He shrugged and smiled to ease the thick fat of awkwardness. "Yeah, well, you know." He didn't say it but this was the new normal for him, which was fine, but it was different from what I knew. When I dreamed about him or pictured him, it was still with a curling mop top or, you know, just the mop if I was dreaming of '09.

"Tattoo too," I added.

"Yeah."

"You're a changed man."

"Yeah."

Our heads ducked down and we stared at the menus in silence. It was a challenge of who would speak first—seriously speak, not those little comments over what looks good.

After we ordered, I said, "Sorry I'm not able to go tonight."

He waved me off. "You've already been to too many shows. Don't worry."

"Well, I like going. It feels weird not to go."

"Yeah." Somewhere in that word, I knew what he meant. It had been years since Alex had the ability to spot people in the crowd, but he told me once that there was a comfort in knowing I was somewhere in there, that even if he messed up, there would always be someone there at the end of it all. I wonder if he was still getting used to someone else being at the end of it all.

He sipped his water to cut off the look on his face. I decided to cut to the fat of it. "I, uh, have something to give you."

"Why do I feel like it's something bad?" He cracked a laugh, lifting the air in the room.

I picked up my bag. "I hope not."

I dug through my things slowly. It was held in my hands but I still had to catch my breath before I lifted it out. I saw a squint on his face as he tried to imagine what it was. I passed it across the table and his hands took it. That is when it all started to feel real; seeing his eyes land on it, his hands run down its spine with him smiling. "It's a first edition," I joked.

He raised an eyebrow, flipping it open. "Is it signed?" I laughed. I'm not sure what made me happier: him holding my book or joking around with him again. He opened the other end of the book. "Good author photo."

"I'm quite happy with it." Somewhere in that bittersweetness, I did feel content. It was never how I imagined him holding my first book. Parts of me were swallowed with sorrow that I would never experience this in the way I wanted—a desperate romantic lovemaking all-consuming kind of way—but there were small parts in me that were happy that we could still have this. I don't know if we kept dragging things out this would have been as joyous. That this would have felt like closure.

Alex looked up, meeting my eyes. A small smile played on his lips. The kind that can't be faked in any way. It was real and from the hurt. It was that pride he always had in me. The pride that kept me going for far longer than I'd ever imagined. I wrote the book, but he made the book. I never would've written anything close to it without him. I'd probably be stuck fucking Robert in London if it wasn't for him. It was my reassurance to him that he didn't have to make up for the sudden move to LA as he constantly tried to do. He wasn't in the book, but he was the book. It's why I dedicated it to him. It's why on the last page of his edition of the book I wrote: Don't make fun of me, Al. Thank you for this. I hope you know why. Love, Jane C.

I questioned the "love" part. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable but it would have been far more awkward to write something like "sincerely." I wasn't one for lying, especially about my love for Alex. It was something layered. It didn't rest in that romantic love. He wasn't just my boyfriend and he wasn't just my best friend. It's hard for a writer to find the word. It's nudged somewhere in this book. In all these little words.

"I wanted you to be the first to have it," I said. "Well, one of the first. Wanted to see the look on your face."

He looked back down at the book. Mild disbelief spread across his face as he looked back and forth between the book and me. "Thanks." He wasn't sure what else to say. He rolled everything around and looked as if he was choking on the bone of a chicken.

"It's been a little weird these past few months," I said while picking at my fingernails, an assured sign to Alex that I was referring to us. "I don't want it to feel weird. So, don't cry or anything," I joked.

He chuckled, dislodging the lump. He flipped the book over one more time before placing it on the table. "I'll try not to. I knew you could do it." He stared right at me, emphasizing every little syllable. The awkwardness faded from him and he leaned onto the table. His smile was small but bright. I could find a million different meanings in it, each meaning just as much.

"I know you did. You always did," I told him. "I had this dream last night. It was weird and blurry but we were driving around Sheffield or some weird ghost thing was driving us. It's hard to describe. I don't know. I think it was a sign or something. I'm not sure of what but just those early days of us talking. That's when I really started to write. I suppose my mind was thinking about this lunch and conjured up some old memories."

He smiled at me the whole time, eyes never leaving me, even when I glanced away. "Well, I had a dream that I was one of the animals left off of Noah's Ark, so, you tell me what that means."

I told him it had something to do with his fear of being left behind and he rolled his eyes and said I was trying to be Freud. Lunch came and we ate and laughed and agreed to split the check. He told me he would read the whole book tonight if he could. We hugged goodbye and he whispered in my ear, "I'll send you a proper review."

A few days later, Alex emailed me. It was long. Very long and detailed like he had taken a note on every page. He pulled the sentences he liked the most out, which turned out to be about half the book. I would later write back and ask what that meant for the other half of the book. He said they were left off Noah's Ark too. Continuing his initial email, Alex wrote at the bottom:

You did it. I hope you feel that too. Thank you, Al.

*

I had a book tour. A minimal one since there wasn't the highest of expectations and I didn't want to go to Omaha, Nebraska. So, there was Boston, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Houston, and Los Angeles. I hated the whole thing. I always wanted to go to these places but I wasn't really going to these places. We lingered in Chicago at the end of July, but it was the equivalent of touring with Alex, except this time I was Alex.

I've never enjoyed talking about my work either but it was nice that people thought it was nice. But that part still felt awkward to me too. Like, people actually read this??? It eased up as it went along. It was a short tour anyway. I wasn't going to Tokyo or anything.

I thought about myself a lot. It was a little lonely but I had adapted to that. Jackson was my only company on the road and it was easy for us to get sick of one another. We had both grown bored with one another, both slightly exhausted from these months so closely intertwined. I thought about Al, often. I thought about myself, often.

Could it be possible that I did everything right? No. I never thought that but I didn't think I did everything wrong. I had cracks in the surface of me and guts that spilled out. I said everything with my pen but nothing with my lips. I hid myself under the disguise of a freshly lonesome girl who knew the only means to move on was to forget. But I didn't forget anything, only myself, just for a little. Pieces of me dropped on the side of the highway. We drove for days and I found no meaning in it, only wondering did he feel like this all the time? How did he bear this loss of self?

I asked myself questions and never got any answers. I felt everything but there was never any meaning in it. There were closed-off vessels, no means to transport blood or oxygen, yet, I was still moving. I suppose that was the only thing left to cling to. I still had the memory of it and those never made me sad. I experienced it. How fortunate was I to be cracked open and exposed to this impenetrable love? I still felt it. We were both on the end of the same wire. It was bent and twisted, knots made to keep strong but disrupt transmission. No love lost. Just changed. I know good comes from change. I didn't feel the goodness but I could taste it coming. So much else was happening. I would hate myself forever for wasting those precious few days of enjoyment in place of a relationship that didn't need nourishment anymore. It was about me. I wanted it to be about me for so long and it finally was. Don't waste it.

The mini-tour ended in LA at the start of August. Summer had whipped me in the face so hard I forgot the season even existed, until I was stuck in the sweaty, SoCal heat, dying for a drop of water. The first night—the day before the Q&A and book signing—Jackson and I got dinner and drinks with Opal.

It was nice to let loose after feeling so pinned up for most of the summer. The liquor soothed my sunburnt skin and I decided the tour as a whole wasn't too bad—I was about 3 drinks in at this point. Then, after another drink, I texted Alex telling him I was in town. The last we chatted was a week or so before when the band opened for the London Olympics. I watched it later on YouTube and told him he did a bang-up job. He told me he nearly shat himself.

Alex had returned to LA since. The city had become his permanent home since the tour had ended. He bought a house out here and everyone in the band, for the most part, had relocated too. So, in my drunken state, I told him I was there and we should hang before I went back to New York.

When I woke up, it was an embarrassing text of I'm in LA, AL. Even in my drunken state, I wrote with proper grammar. Alex wrote back, Come on over. This was in the early hours of the day so he must have been up by some similar means too.

The following night, I panicked. I wondered if this is what single people felt like all the time. Prior to this, I had never faced intimidation when hanging out with Alex, except maybe when I was 17 and that type of thing could be labelled as teenage anxiety. But, no, this was a thing that would plague me the rest of my dating life and I wasn't even going on a date with him. Alex is the only "ex" I had stayed in contact with up to that point. Most of my friends didn't do this type of thing either, at least not Opal who lived by the mentality that once people were gone they were gone forever.

Half my anxiety came from the limited wardrobe out of my suitcase but considering it was just dinner and a dinner that would be had with the other bandmates and the girlfriends, there should've been no pressure. I wouldn't have told you this at the time, I barely want to write it down now, but the nerves I felt weren’t because of Alex, they were because of Arielle. Part of me wanted to be conceived as a non-threat. I was over those days. The other part of me—the stronger part—wanted her to be jealous of me and question why Alex and I ever broke up. I wasn't fully-formed yet. 

The two sides fought and then I just settled on jeans and a tank top because it was boiling outside and I was having drinks at Al's place, not the Windsors. Luckily, I showed up after Jamie and Katie so I thought of using Katie as a shield. I didn't accept Katie and Arielle to be talking though. The word traitor crossed through my brain and then I thought I must be regressing to my college days when Rosie and Will would feel each other up in front of me. Arielle was nice and I was probably an anxious bitch.

So, I hugged both of them as Alex came into the living room. He was staggering, dressed casually beside his uniform slicked hair. "Hey there," he greeted. He was calm, not an awkward bone in his body. He knew he had the upper hand. We were on his home turf with his hot girlfriend and I was a single mess who had been on plane after plane and stunk of cigarettes.

The room was hot with sweat dripping off every surface it seemed. The air conditioner was running but the flaming air came rushing in with the swing of the front door as Matt and Breana entered. The room became distracted by them, both looking darling. I hugged each of them, distracting myself in their grasp.

Arielle had lit candles for the dining table. It was the only thing formal about the informal event. The house itself was rather bare. Alex never carried much, I was always the one with the shit. 

Alex tapped my arm. "You want a drink?"

"What do you have?" I asked.

He waved his arm and I followed him to the kitchen, isolating ourselves. "Beer, wine, tequila, vodka, all the fixings. I can make you something if you'd like. Margarita?"

"Anything non-alcoholic?" Alcohol would ease my nerves but it would lead to my loud mouth and I couldn't afford that tonight.

He looked bewildered. "Who are you?" He joked.

We kept our distance. I pushed my hair behind my shoulder. "Got real drunk with Opal and Jackson last night. Figured I'd keep it clean. At least for now."

"Right then. Iced tea?"

He knew me well. I laughed at his smile and agreed to this. I moved closer to the refrigerator to just feel the cold air on my skin. He poured the glass, leaving the door open for me. I chugged the coldness like it was the elixir of life. It felt like my lungs re-inflated when the liquid dispersed and his eyes looked at mine again, so clearly over that fogged-up glass. Wet brown eyes into my baby blues and it felt like he might reach out and snatch them out of my eyes and keep them for himself. He always liked them. He has a thing for blue eyes.

We talked around the dining table, eating a mix of something Arielle had cooked and pizza. I had the pizza. Everyone talked loosely about things I had no knowledge of. Jokes about LA and all these people I had no concept of. I suppose if they had come to New York it would have been similar, except they all shared this with one another.

The sweet Breana turned the attention onto me, which partially made me shrink and revel in the joy of being included. "Oh, Jane, I loved the book!" Everyone chanted in similar sentiments all at once.

I laughed and took a bite of my pizza crust. "You didn't all read it," I laughed.

"I read parts of it," Jamie said. They were all sweet but I'm unsure how often any of them even had the chance to pick up a book, let alone their best friend's ex-girlfriend. Because that's what I was now. That was my title.

Alex looked at me. I could hear my mother's words ringing through his lips so I smiled and said, "Thank you."

"Disappointed I wasn't in it more," Matt said. "You know if it wasn't for me the book would've never been made." The long story of it has made that true but I can't give Matt credit for everything, it might go to his head too much.

"How's that?" Arielle asked. Everything shifted after that. We could all tell that she had been the wrong one to ask that question. Whether she was clueless and curious or was trying to make a dig at Alex, I wasn't sure, but I felt like an imposition being there. I didn't feel like an out-of-town friend. I felt like an ex-girlfriend.

Nobody spoke so I spoke. "Matt introduced me and Alex." I sipped my drink to wash down any other awkwardness.

Everyone seemed awkward other than Arielle. She quickly nodded and said, "Oh, yeah, Al told me that." I wondered why everyone else was so stiff when Arielle didn't seem to have much of a problem with it. Why should she when she looked like that?

I felt frumpy and had to pee badly from all the iced tea I had drank but I was too scared to go to the bathroom and see her things mixed with Alex's things. I could leave there with ambiguity and the belief that Alex didn't move on so quickly and I was stuck being alone.

"That was our first gig," Matt said. He seemed to relax, always the person to slice through any amount of tension. "Almost 10 years ago now."

"What was it like?" Arielle asked.

"Awful," Alex said. His eyes pointed toward me. "Right?"

"I don't know. I never reviewed it, remember?" He laughed and it felt inappropriate to display this inside language in front of everyone. "It feels weird that I'm the only one here who watched it." Even if that had been the case for many years, it had been a while since we all gathered around in a circle and talked about those days.

"I wasn't even there," Nick remarked. The room buckled with chuckles.

I laid my forehead against the palm of my hand resting against the table. "God," I said, "I spent that whole show with Will’s hand on my ass and Joanie screaming in my ear."

"Oh, god, Joanie," Matt muttered.

"Oh, god, Will," Jamie cracked.

"She got married last month," I told them. She had invited me but I was in the middle of the tour. We talked about once a year and everything was always nice. The only time I would've had the chance of running into her was when Alex and I visited Sheffield and that obviously wasn't happening anymore.

"Bless that man's heart," Matt quipped.

I shook my head. "No, she seems to have settled down in the last few years. I guess we all did. Seems so long ago."

"It was," Alex said. "We're getting old, Janie." His silence punctured the air. My lungs felt like they were deflating. He poured himself another glass.

Things grew looser and looser. They rattled off stories of LA, I rattled off stories from the road. Arielle excused herself to bed, citing an early morning. Her bed was upstairs.

Each couple left one by one until Alex and I awkwardly remained. I figured then I should leave. He walked me to the door with a freshly poured glass in his hand. "Hope I didn't keep you up too late," I said because I wasn't sure what else to say. It reminded me of what my parents said to each other after a fight. It was the one thing they clung to in order to keep their marriage somehow working.

He shook his head and sipped. "No, no. It's fine. You're always good company."

I shrugged. The whole thing kind of felt awkward, at least with him. I could laugh with Matt and throw my arm around Katie, even hug Arielle good night, but whenever my eyes landed on Alex, I tensed up so tightly I knew I'd be sore the next day. "If you're ever in New York or whatever."

He nodded and smiled. He would be visiting his old apartment. I wondered how that would make him feel. Was it the same when I walked into his house and noticed different shoes by the door than mine? Would the emptiness of his presence leave him uneasy? "I'd like that," Alex said.

"Thanks for having me." We reached the door and the end of the night but we stayed awkwardly staring at each other.

"Course. Text me when you're back at the hotel and safe and all that." He was drunk, rambling with an incapability of holding his tongue.

I smiled. "I will."

I didn't know whether to hug him or not. He leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't affectionate. It was a peck. The kind my mother used to give me when left for school in the morning. Of course, she was my mother and I was 7 and Alex was drunk and I was, well, awkward. 

I said, "Night," and turned away. We never talked about it because there was nothing to talk about. It very well could have been a kiss on the cheek just like I gave Katie and Breana before they left. Of course, that was Katie and Breana and this was Alex—no longer mine.

*

Rain pattered against the window. Jackson and I returned to New York a week prior and we were now sitting in my apartment, drinking, and about to call Opal to join us. I felt dizzy and Jackson looked sleepy. It had been a long month.

"So," he said, "what's next?"

I finished off my glass. "What do you mean?" The year felt empty as the cold was beginning to creep into my summer warmth. 2012 was a bumpy year where so much yet so little happened. I was growing sick of my apartment because no matter how rid it was of Alex, he still had a whole life with me here. When I returned to it after the book tour, I was ready to move on.

Jackson placed his arm on the back of the couch. The tips of his fingers softly poked at my shoulder. "Now it's time to think about the next book."

I tossed my head back with a groan. "Gimme a break."

He chuckled and placed his empty glass on the end table. "No rush. For now."

I sat up straight, finishing off my glass, and growing more and more serious every day. "Thanks for doing this for me, Jackson."

He nodded. "My pleasure."

"I feel kind of empty," I confessed.

His brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

I didn't feel like explaining it. I was growing tired of doing that with people. My stomach ached and I pushed Alex out of my mind. I felt that I had sacrificed our relationship for this success, even if it wasn't true. I thought I would have been over it by that time of year. It had been over a year. But it still felt so unnatural for him to feel so far removed from my life. Every word we spoke felt tinged with sadness and I didn't want it to feel that way. I wanted to move on.

I kissed Jackson. He kissed back. We never called Opal.

*

Jackson and I started dating in a casual way. We were exclusive to one another and treated each other as a boyfriend and girlfriend would but I suppose my association with dating was always a far deeper connection. I wasn't alone in this. Jackson had long-term girlfriends prior to me. He was older than me, not by some outrageous amount. He was born in 1979, seven years older, but I was 26 and 33 didn't feel so far off.

Opal loved it. She felt like the ultimate matchmaker and wanted to be both the maid of honor and the best man. My New York crew loved him. Fennel and Kaka found him to be rich in conversation. He liked going out more than Alex but then again most people liked going out more than Alex. Except more and more it seemed Alex enjoyed the going out part. (I was taken but I was still a snooping ex-girlfriend).

I didn't tell Alex. It felt awkward to call him up and tell him I got a new boyfriend. I decided to tell him when I saw him again, which didn't come up. He was in Los Angeles. I was in New York. We didn't talk very often either. I think I called him once in October because I couldn't remember the name of a restaurant we went to (he didn't remember either). 

Other than that, there wasn't much reason to talk. We had completely separate lives. But I was aware of what he was up to. I wasn't cyber-stalking him much anymore (only on nights when I was wildly intoxicated). I talked to Katie occasionally and texted Breana from time to time. Things about Alex would slip through the cracks and get to me but the majority of it was just that they were recording their new album.

We had both moved on. Or we were both pretending we did. At least I was pretending, in some form. I thought about him all the time. I didn't feel like a day went by when I didn't think about him. It wasn't in some romantic longing way. I had shared a life with him from such a young age and to be forced apart from it felt unnatural. There were so many jokes and stories that went untold because no one would get it but him.

When I went back home for the holidays, I confided this to my mother. I don't know why, maybe because of what she had told me so many years ago in Florida. I don't know if my mother ever actually liked Alex so I figured if she said awful things about him it would make me feel better. Of course, she didn't.

"It goes away," she said. "One day, you wake up and you're numb to it. You just get numb to it in the end, Jane. All those people you hated and loved turn to nothing. Even the ones you still want to love. You'll be thankful for it when the day comes that you don't feel anything anymore."

I frowned and my mother left me on the couch to fetch another bottle of wine. In retrospect, my mother was suffering from mental illness, but I was oblivious to that because I had grown oblivious to most of my mother's behavior. I just didn't want to engage with it anymore. Maybe part of me was numb toward her.

I didn't want to feel nothing. I couldn't imagine not feeling anything for Alex, even if we remained friends for the rest of our lives. I had tethered so much sentimentality toward him, he might as well have been a knick-knack on my shelf. Letting go of him would be letting go of an entire part of myself. I was content if that part only came out once a year when I saw him but I couldn't let go of it forever.

*

Joanie was having a baby. She likely got pregnant on her honeymoon. Someone my age having a child felt unnatural. I pictured Joanie being a teen mum, not a 26-year-old pregnant woman. She invited me to the baby shower taking place right after Christmas. It was ideal timing since all her closest friends would be in town or, like me, the country.

I debated going but decided that since I missed the wedding the least I could do was go to the baby shower. So, I drove the Beetle up to Wakefield. I figured it would be a mini-reunion. The only one I had seen as of late was Claire, who lived in Bristol now, and I hadn't seen since last winter.

We drove up together and listened to Radio 2 on full blast the whole way. I don't think I had ever felt more like a teenager even when I was a teenager. Claire continued her streak of always being a comfort for me. While other friends might be wedding and birthing, Claire had just ended her two-year-long relationship and gagged in her mouth at the thought of being a mother one day. 

It made me miss England so desperately. I forgot how much I ached to drive, which I hadn't done in years. The closest I had gotten to a car was the one taxi ride home drunk at 4 AM. And to drive on the left side of the road! I hadn't heard someone speak in a British accent since the dinner at Alex's. It eased my ears and made me wonder why I ever left, which just led to me thinking about Alex again.

Claire said, "I hate Alex, which sucks 'cause I like Alex." In a way, it summed up how conflicted I felt. Hate is a strong word but I was resentful for how everything went down. Then again, I probably didn't have much of a right.

Joanie's house was straight out of a picture book. I didn't know houses like that even existed in Wakefield. It wasn't fancy but at the sight of it, you'd call it a home. She had a little garden in the front that she said her husband grew herbs in that she used for cooking. It made Claire and I roll our eyes but we both desperately wanted that kind of companionship. If I ever would learn how to cook or grow plants, maybe that could be my life. I refused to do either, but it was a nice thought.

I bought Joanie—or Joanie's baby—these cozy fleece booties because that's what New York Magazine said to get. I never bought anything for a baby before (I got away with it two years ago during Harper's unmentioned pregnancy of my first nephew, Benjamin, by having my mother buy a gift for me) so I had no clue what to get. I bought Joanie this nice set of body washes that were her favourite when we were 17 with the hope that they either still were or she would feel nostalgic over them.

Claire and I ate a slice of cake and watched Joanie open her presents. Halfway through we turned to each other and decided we were going to go out drinking after. I love Joanie but oohing and awing over baby gifts with a bunch of women I barely knew got old quickly, especially incredibly sober and in the middle of the winter blues. The cake was good though.

The shower ended around 4 and while I was down to get hammered that early, Claire wanted to go out to lunch first. We ended up meeting up with AB at a pub. I hadn't seen AB since 2006 and I nearly cried at the sight of him all grown up. Claire and AB had broken up long ago but stayed in touch as good friends and if they could do it—two incredibly mature people—maybe Alex and I could too. 

AB's girlfriend of two years (and future wife), Shay, joined us as well. It almost made me barf how gorgeous they were together and I was shocked Claire wasn't fuming more over how beautiful Shay was. I was almost fuming over how beautiful Shay was!

AB sipped on a beer, which I don't think I had ever witnessed. He shared it was Shay and I swallowed down my drink at the painful thought that Alex and I once did things like that. I was such a sad sack. I thought about calling Jackson. Thank god I didn't.

We left the pub, hugging AB and Shay goodbye next to the Beetle. Claire and I were going to go back to the hotel to change out of our baby shower clothes and "hit the town.”

We waved goodbye to the couple and that's when I saw Alex with his mum. I turned my back to him and grabbed Claire's arm. "I think I'm gonna vomit."

She looked at me completely puzzled. "What? Why?"

I was so freaked out by the sight of him. I think the unexpected nature of it threw me off-balanced. I had never been that unnerved by the sight of him. My head felt like my brain was about to burst out of my ears. "Get in the car," I harshly muttered to her.

She was still unaware but she raced around the side of the car to get into the passenger seat. We bolted out of there before he crossed the street.

*

It was midnight when I called him. I was definitely drunk, but not wasted, standing outside a club smoking while Claire chatted up with some guy inside. I was freezing and felt so childish for doing it, even in the moment, but I wanted to see him. It shouldn't feel right that I was here and he wasn't.

"Hello." His voice was clear so he hadn't been sleeping. I wonder if he was in bed (with Arielle).

I swallowed whatever dignity I had left and let the rest loose. "Hey. I'm in Wakefield for Joanie's baby shower 'cause apparently we're old enough to have children now and now I'm out with Claire at a club. We drove up together from Bath, well, Bristol for her, Bath for me, but you know that. Jesus. I saw you earlier today and raced into my car because I was so scared by the sight of you, which made me realize I'm not as mature as I thought I was. And it was just after we went to lunch with AB and Shay and Claire and AB still get along like they didn't have this romantic relationship and I know that we get along too but I raced to my car and nearly shit myself. Now, I'm outside a club smoking in the middle of winter because I apparently regress back to teenage tendencies when I'm in Yorkshire or maybe just England in general. Anyway, I'm drunk and I'm thinking this was stupid and it probably is but I know you're probably laughing at me right now but I'm freezing my ass off and I can't figure out how to get back inside the club and Claire isn't answering her phone, which means she's probably shagging someone or something and I wouldn't want to interrupt that, you know, and I probably should just get a cab back to the hotel but I called you for some reason. Well, not for some reason because I'm drunk. Okay, now you talk."

I was out of breath and sure I had just lost my mind. I need another shot of tequila. I felt I was growing too sober to face the repercussions of this. I took a drag of my cigarette and listened to his breathing on the other end of the line.

I could hear his smile. I still had a knack for that kind of thing. "I saw you too, you know."

I slapped my forehead and thought about slamming my head into the brick wall until it broke my skull and my brain gushed out. "Did it look like we were being held at gunpoint?"

He chuckled lowly. "A little. But I must've looked like someone pointed a gun at me. I'd recognize that car anywhere, Janie."

I didn't know what to say. My car was such a sensitive topic for both of us. It was the cornerstone (ha) of our relationship, especially for the car to be returned to its rightful county. I thought I'd feel weird driving it but everything felt right like it was a complete homecoming. Like nature had found its way and every piece fell perfectly into the puzzle.

"I thought I would be grown up by now," I confessed.

He suppressed a laugh. "I like you this way. Makes me feel less alone."

"How so?"

He waited, not wanting to fully let the truth go but it was me he was talking to. There wasn't much point in lying. "I've called you in various states of intoxication too."

"Not after running to your car," I pointed out.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll do it one of these days." It was a silence but a vibration rang across the line to one another. Call it a vibe or a wavelength or just a feeling, but I could feel him like he was standing right next to me. "Where are you?"

It was so embarrassing I laughed. "Che & Coco." It was Barnsley College's resident bar and nightclub. The average age of the crowd was barely 20 and I felt like such a loser trying to claim that nostalgia is what made me want to club there.

"Geez, you really are down bad." His laughter rang through the phone and I nearly hung up due to how beet red my face was. He laughed and laughed. I could picture him with his hands on his knees, walking home from Will's house, unable to breathe he was laughing so hard. Then, I couldn't breathe. "You want me to pick you up?"

I'd like that a lot but I couldn't take it. That was a bridge too far. "No, no. I'll just call a taxi or something. Maybe even walk. My hotel isn't that far."

"You're gonna walk in Barnsley at midnight? Hope you don't get hit with a beer bottle," he joked. That had happened to Will back in the day. I'm convinced it made him even dumber if that's possible.

"I've walked later than this in New York," I reasoned.

"Janie," he stopped me, "I'd like to see you if you won't run away from me."

I sighed. "I'll see you in 20. I'll be waiting on Peel." Because maybe I would like to see him too.

He pulled up in his mum's car. It wasn't her car from way back in the day but it made him feel sophomoric to me. His hair wasn't gelled up, instead falling around in tendrils of combed-back magic. He had a hoodie on and a smile on his face. He honked the horn of the car and I dashed across the street to his car.

The car was warm, at least warmer than outside where I had been suffering. I tugged my coat closer and put my seatbelt on. "Hi."

Alex smiled over at me. "Hi." He pulled back onto the road and I couldn't remember the last time he had driven me. "How've you been?"

I shrugged in his peripheral vision. "Fine. Christmas was fine. My dad bought me Slouching Toward Bethlehem."

Alex laughed. "About 10 years too late."

"Yeah, but at least he's trying. I can't remember the last time he bought me a gift." My mother handled all the presents, something she was rather good at, even if it always felt like she didn't know me.

We stopped at a red light. "I didn't get anything for you," he said while looking over at me.

"Well, I didn't get you anything either." First time in eight years. It didn't even cross my mind. "This is enough of a present anyway."

He nodded in agreement. "Good." I believed him. The nod of his head told me that this meant as much to me as it did to me. Drunk actions are sober thoughts and sometimes I just wanted to hear his voice.

We kept driving. I had yet to tell him any directions. He was headed the right way but I wouldn't have had the willpower to tell him anyway. I liked driving around with him. I liked just this. The vibration of the road beneath us and the scent of him washing over me. The slowness of Yorkshire and the heat of him beside me. It made everything feel right.

"Arielle come with you?"

He rubbed his eye. He looked tired. "Nah. She went to her parents’." I nodded and he waited, looking over at me. I stared at him blankly. He looked back at the road and kept the car moving. "What about, uh, Jackson?"

My head snapped toward him. "He's at his parents’." I picked at my nails. I didn't want to talk about this. Why did it feel like I was cheating on him? It felt like Alex had died and I was some widower trying to move on but his ghost was coming back to shame me.

"Katie mentioned something," he muttered.

"Yeah," I explained, "just a few months."

He nodded slowly. "He's a nice guy." I laughed out loud. He laughed too, for some reason. "What?"

I shook my head. "We don't have to talk about my boyfriend."

"Okay. We don't have to talk about Arielle." It was probably some form of cheating, emotionally. We gazed at one another and never acted on anything, but the aftertaste of it didn't feel right. But in the moment, everything had fallen perfectly into place.

We went nowhere and neither of us said a single thing about it. The drive from the club to my hotel was ten minutes. We drove around for an hour.

"Joanie's house is beautiful. It's like my dream house. It isn't big but it's not a cottage or anything. But it's quaint. She's got plants and I never thought Joanie could take care of a living thing and now she's gonna have a baby," I told him. I fiddled with the radio, even though we weren't gonna listen to it.

"Are you sure they aren't fake?" He joked. I chuckled and hit his shoulder. "Eh! Watch it. I'm driving here, missy."

I held my hands up as a defense. I eased them back down with a giggle and tugged on my seatbelt strap. "You know, I thought I'd have a baby by now."

He snorted. "No, you did not."

"At one point I did. I mean, back before you. Like when I was still playing with dolls." 

He laughed again and everything made sense. "Good thing you don't. You can't even keep a plant alive."

"They're not self-sufficient enough."

"And you think a baby will be easier?"

"Not anymore but at six I did! It was right around when Stacey was born. I took good care of her."

Alex felt warm with a smile. "You did." He was an only child but at times I felt he might consider her a sister too. She considered him a brother. He had been around since she was 11. She was only a little over a year away from graduating university. 

"Granted I didn't have to breastfeed her."

It was still dark outside but it felt like the sun was rising in that car. "You wouldn't be happy living Joanie's life."

"How do you know?" I questioned. "Maybe if I was settled I'd feel better."

Alex's jaw gaped. He breathed a laugh and I looked over at him curiously. "Jane, you'd be losing your mind. The whole time I knew you here, you were begging to get out of here."

"Maybe I had it all wrong."

He shook his head, never looking over at me, just driving. "You're a completely different person because you got out of here. You're gonna get all that stuff one day. The kid, the garden, whatever the fuck you want, but you'd never have what you have no if you stayed put. You always knew what you wanted. Your gut is always right. I've learned that."

I sighed and accepted he was right. "Grass is always greener, I guess."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But I think you have the greenest grass. You're the one who's a bestseller."

I rolled my eyes and leaned on the center console. "She's the one with the husband and baby."

He scoffed, "So is half the world. You have a tough time being proud of your accomplishments."

I gasped. "Look who's talking. My god!"

Alex chuckled and it felt like food for my soul. Fertilizer to my soil to keep growing. "Fair enough. But be cocky every once and a while, Janie. You deserve it."

I took what he said to heart but ignored him. I wanted to talk about something else. I wanted to put my feet in his lap and ride to Charlton Brook. Instead, I leaned back and looked at him. "We used to talk about the future so much and now it's come and gone."

"You're not dead yet." But we were. I think that's what I really meant. All those things I had planned with him and I had to be content with letting them go. Watching those promises slip through my fingers. I had no right to feel that way but it's all I felt.

I wanted to tell him I loved him with the windows rolled down and the cold air rushing in because he used to let me do that. I believe that right had been revoked. "I missed it here." The truth was hidden in those words, in between the lines, deep in those letters, stuffed in between them.

He hummed, glancing over. "Me too. Everything feels a little simpler."

I heard the radio speaking, ringing some familiar tune that I couldn't think of the name. Maybe if it had been a little simpler and Alex and I stayed there forever, in the car ride between Wakefield and High Green, we'd have a house, a garden, a ring, a little thing on the way. 

But I would've missed out on a lot more. I would have missed out on a lot of Alex. How he was with his hair long in the middle of Joshua Tree, looking over at me instead of the night sky. How he made up our bed in our London studio apartment into a couch because we didn't have enough space for one. How he felt sitting next to me on the C train at 2 AM. How he felt in the dead of winter in Yorkshire, somehow ending up at my hotel with a hoodie I used to wear and a smile he still wears just for me.

I'll never know otherwise. And that's fine.

*

a/n: this was a struggle but i think it landed right in the end. much, much more to come.

[sinfulslytherin]

New eternity.

Warning: sexual content

Summary: Draco lets you sleep over after your arranged husband treats you like shit.

I close the bathroom door behind me as I re-enter Dracos room.

The blonde boy already placed himself under the blanket of his huge king sized bed.

I can see the upper part of his toned chest peek out from underneath the sheets.

I don't realize my stare until Draco points it out.

"This could be all yours, Amara." Draco exclaims with a smug smirk and a sarcastic voice, clearly mocking me for staring.

"You mean your annoying ass? No thank you." I smirk while making my way over to the bed.

I make myself comfortable as I slip under the sheets.

As I move my legs, I feel something warm against my toes as I hear a shriek.

My eyes quickly wander over to Draco.

"What the hell, Amara! Keep your freezing feet on your side of the bed."

The blonde boy complains.

A grin plasters on my face as I take my opportunity to tease him a bit.

I scoot closer to him in a swift move as my legs touch his.

Again.

"You are such a child!-Sto-" Draco starts to complain again and tries to build some distance between us

but is quickly interrupted by another cold touch of mine.

Loud laughs escape my from my lips.

"Aww, are you going to cry?-Do I see some tear-"

I am the one who gets interrupted this time. Draco throws himself on top of me and grabs my arms and pins them down.

The grin that was plastered on my face only a few seconds ago vanishes completly.

I look up and stare into his cold, grey eyes.

Draco stares right back at me.

Not saying a word.

His eyes wander down to my lips and further down to my thighs, which got exposed as soon as we started moving more and more, pushing the blanket away from us.

The silence eats me up alive before he finally opens his mouth.

"You seem pretty happy for a girl who is entangled in a fake, forced and abusive marriage."

His eyes never leave mine.

"Maybe that's because I'm with you." I blurt out my feelings.

His eyes slightly widen but he tries to hide his suprise.

Did I just confess that he makes me happy?

Wait-

Does he make me happy?

My mind wanders off to the thoughts of Draco defending me against Graham earlier.

Draco saying that he cares.

I have the feeling that I might have a chance to heal when I am by his side.

The therapy session in my brain is interrupted by Dracos voice.

"It's so hard to tell sometimes."

I look up at him, visibly confused.

"To tell what?" I ask.

"To tell what's going on inside that little head of yours." Draco says as he uses his index finger to tip on my forehead.

I smile softly.

"A lot."

"Tell me."

"That would take an eternity."

"I'd spend my eternity with you."

We both fall silent.

Dracos eyes wander down to my lips.

Back up to my eyes.

And then my lips again.

He suddenly crashes his lips on mine.

He kisses me as his left hand rests on my waist and the other one is on my cheek.

His tounge enters my mouth after I gladly accept it.

His tounge fights for dominance.

And wins.

As always.

His right hand leaves my cheek and slowly makes his way to my clothed breasts.

"May I?" Whispers Draco against my lips.

I lightly push him off of me as I sit back up. Draco looks visibly confused, probably scared that he might have done something wrong.

I suddenly take my shirt off in a swift motion, leaving me in nothing more than the boxers that Draco gave me. Dracos eyes widen and I can see him turn red.

"Yes. You may." I say as I look him in the eyes.

His eyes darken as he suddenly pushes me back down and kisses me.

"You are so fucking perfect." Draco suddenly says in betweens the kisses.

His face wanders down to my breast.

He teases me by licking my nipple lightly.

Small moans start to leave my lips.

He suddenly starts to suck on my nipple, pushing me into a whimpering state.

"Fuck...you're so beatiful. Who is my beautifuly slut, hm?"  Draco suddenly asks, instantly creating a throbbing feeling between my legs.

"I-I am..." I try to answer.

He pushes himself up again as he makes his way even further down.

His fingertips reach the boxers as he looks up at me.

I nod, signaling him my permission.

He takes off the thin fabric, leaving me completly naked now.

He looks at me one last time before I can feel his lips on my inner thighs.

He kiss es his way up.

He keeps on kissing, teasing the living shit out of me.

"D-Draco-"

"I'ts Sir."  He says as he suddenly bites my inner thigh

"Sir...stop t-teasing." I moan out due to the pain.

Draco actually listens and he suddenly sucks on my clit. His tounge moving against my sex gives me a feeling of being drunk, eventhough I am clearly sober.

The euphoric feeling doesn't stop and more moans slip out of my mouth as my craving for his touch rises up inside of me.

I can feel him pushing his tounge inside.

"Fuck me..." I suddenly moan out.

Draco stops in his tracks, clearly suprised by my words.

His eyes meet mine and he seems to search for any kind of uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Yes. I want you inside of me...please." I moan, craving his touch.

"Fuck.." Draco growls as he suddenly pulls down his boxers...

Read the rest here~

[parachutingkitten]

So Lloyd’s panic attacks are linked to his visions, which... fine. That's a reasonable catalyst. But the narrative also frames them as kinda being one in the same? Like the message at the end about not fighting the visions, just letting them happen, from what I understand that's pretty good advice. Don't fight your panic attacks if you feel them coming on, that can sometimes even lead to it getting worse. Having a healthy relationship with them, understanding that they are a part of your life can help you. Like that's good advice for a panic attack, this is still about panic attacks, yeah? But then you also get this weird side effect where the vision in the climax like... makes him stronger?

Like when he doesn't fight it, his panic attack can be used... as a power up?

Not to mention linking Lloyd’s attacks with his getting information also sits kinda weird with me. Like, the information and thoughts you get durring a panic attack... often aren't legit? Maybe don't follow those impulses irl, cuz those aren't prophetic dreams, that's spiraling anxiety. Like, to get down from a panic attack, the advice I've always heard is to distract yourself from the feelings, focus on breathing, name things in the room, have someone ask you basic questions to answer.

Idk. We are in a golden age of depicting panic attacks in media, and there's a lot of great messages out there. The importance of destigmatising, of therapy, of meds, and most importantly the importance of letting the people around you help you through it. Even the instances which don't directly name it tend to bring up this aspect of things. Having someone there to help you, knowing you're not alone, can make a huge difference. And it does feel kinda weird that Lloyd coming to terms with his panic attacks doesn't involve other people helping and actively supporting him. It doesn't try to touch on any calming techniques or tools to help you once you're in it. It feels like a pretty shallow dive.

Idk. Those are just some thoughts I've been having. I've had like... 3 panic attacks in my life (or at least what I assume to be panic attacks, it certainly felt how it's been described to me like) so I'm certainly no authority on this stuff.