#because we work through our trauma by giving it to our children right?

[rentfreeinmyskull]

god one day i’ll write out the extensive lore of rin and leiko and their relationship and their parents but for now i will just curl into the fetal position and think about them.

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (4)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 11.8k+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, best boyfriend Jimin, did I say angst????, past drug use, past alcohol addiction, past trauma talk, crying, anxiety, hand holding, touching as a love language, Jimin can't keep his hands to himself, he does try his best though, pining, sexual tension, banter, I love these two A/N: I know we're a couple of weeks late updating, but I've been very busy with moving so I haven't had the energy to write. I did a very quick edit, so this might not be perfect. I'm planning on coming back once I'm in my new place to do a full proofread. Hope you like the update!

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Hand clutching my phone, I sighed. All around me the airport buzzed with life. I had almost forgotten how hectic the Denver Airport was. A few feet away I saw a mother struggling to keep her children together while her husband scrolled on his phone. I must have made some sort of noise, subconsciously voicing my annoyance, because Jimin laughed.

“What’s going on, gran?” He teased, voice light. “See a couple of youngins on your lawn?”

I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the family. “Just a shitty husband ignoring his children.”

He hissed, sucking in air through his teeth, “The worst kind of dude. Are you alright?”

Softening, I finally spotted my luggage on the conveyor belt. Twisting my torso, I did a light stretch and then quickly snatched the heavy bag up. “Not too anxious, right?”

He had been very worried about letting me come home for a visit. When I had originally brought it up he offered himself up for the job, but I was not a fan of that idea. My friends would definitely bring up our date and I did not want to deal with the awkwardness that would cause. Especially since we had yet to go on it. That would not matter to Hoseok, however, and the teasing would have been endless. Better to spare Jimin from their wrath for just a little while longer.

“I’m cool,” I replied, softening. “Just got my stuff from baggage claim. I’m going to let you go so I can call Andy.”

“Okay bug. See you in a few days.”

Harper had recently started calling me that, forgetting my real name and not caring enough to ask for it. Eloise had tried to scold her for it, but I told her I did not mind it. It caught on with Cameron not too long after that, and soon the entire Park family had started using the little nickname. Jimin thought it was adorable from the beginning but had only started using it after our talk the other night.

I laughed, “I’m going to call you tonight.”

“Aw,” I knew he had that stupid smile on his face. “Miss me that much?”

“Someone needs to make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” I replied, a confident pep in my step I had not had in years. “But yes, I do miss you.”

There was a pregnant pause. 

“I miss you too.”

I could feel my heart melting. I was still getting used to our new dynamic. On most days we were strictly business, and were able to set aside the very large, very apparent elephant in the room. It was not until we had finished with work that those roles dropped, and we were able to just be us. 

Ever since my confession in the car Jimin spoke a hell of a lot more. Apparently, he had a hard time keeping his feelings to himself and chose to talk a little less in order to avoid a slip up. He wanted to give us both a little bit of time to get to know one another before springing his crush on me.

“Going soft, kid?�� Playing things off with humor was Jimin’s thing, but it had slowly started to rub off on me. “It’s only two days.”

“I know,” He pouted. “Call your friend. It’s cold and you’ll get sick.”

“Hey,” I cut the teasing tone I had, “You’re not upset I came here by myself, right?”

“No,” He chuckled with an unmistakable fondness. “I’m just messin’ with you. I’m not ready to meet your friends and you need some alone time. We’re good, I promise.”

I sighed in relief, “Okay. Good. I’m going to go now. Talk to you later?”

“Call me when you can,” He replied, voice light.

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, bug.”

I was disappointed to hear the line go dead but knew I could aimlessly walk around this airport all day if given the chance, so long as he was there with me. Trying to get my thoughts back on track, I sent a text to Andy asking if she was here yet. If not, I was already making plans to call Jimin back.

Andy: I’m parked in 5 near C Gates

Andy: Be careful

Andy: Saw a lady almost get hit by a car just now

Me: See you in a sec

Me: Should I be worried?

I knew she was trying to make a joke, but car accident punchlines never went over all that well with me. Even if I knew the chances of that happening to me were almost zero, I really did not want to have a panic attack in the airport parking lot. 

Andy: Not at all. I’m so sorry for even saying anything. I can come meet you at the doors if you want.

Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. Sigh of relief. I was fine. 

Me: I appreciate you

Me: Is babygirl here?

Dani would help the spike of anxiety dissipate. The girl was fearless and was sure to be distracting enough to keep me from paying attention to the oncoming traffic. I suddenly wished that Jimin was here. He always knew what to do.

Andy: Jin and I are weak

Andy: We let her play hooky

Bobbing and weaving through bodies, I tossed my phone into my purse and made my way out of the airport. The arrivals station was packed, and I would need to take the automated train to where Andrea was parked. It was my least favorite part about this airport, but it beat Dallas-Fort Worth by a landslide. I had gotten lost in that airport more times than I could count. 

Three minutes later I was getting out of the train and stepping into C Gates. I could smell Auntie Anne’s and felt my mouth begin to water. Checking my clock, I decided it would not hurt to make a quick spot for lunch. Andy would appreciate it and I knew Dani loved their pretzel dog. 

There was a little less traffic in C Gates. More of the expensive airlines let out here, and all you could see were business professionals pacing back and forth. A family on vacation bumped into me while I was waiting in line, and I almost gave up my spot when their toddler started screaming. 

“No, no,” His mother insisted, her hair a mess on the top of her head. “Between the girls and my mom, we’ll be here all day. Go ahead, sweetie.”

Two little girls danced around me as we waited, the line moving at a snail's pace due to the airport being understaffed. They asked me questions incessantly, and while their mother had tried her best to keep them in line, I told her I was fine with the extra attention. I loved kids and the girls were harmless. The boy in her arms kept repeating “pizza” and soon an elderly woman joined them. 

If the girls talked a lot, they had nothing on grandma. Not only did she never shut her mouth, she was loud and obnoxiously laughing every few seconds. The boy was quick to beg to be in her arms and mom got a break. She was back to attempting to corral the girls, but again they did not really listen. 

“They’re only like this when my mom’s around,” She sighed, frustrated and tired. “We’re meeting up with their father and they’re all a little restless.”

“It’s no bother,” I lied. The girls really were not that bad. Just a couple of four-year-olds having fun. The only person who was really getting on my nerves was her mother, but I was not about to say that. “Better to get it out now than in the car, right?”

She cracked a tired smile, “Right.”

Finally, it was my turn to order. The young girl behind the counter gave me an award-winning smile while another young blonde was in the back getting all of the orders out.

“Hi, welcome to Auntie Anne’s. How can I help you today?”

“Can I get one original pretzel, one cinnamon sugar pretzel, and a pretzel dog combo with a lemonade and cheese,” Glancing behind me, I sighed. “Throw in a pizza pretzel, two orders of pretzel nuggets, and whatever else the family behind me wants.”

She smiled, blue eyes twinkling prettily in the bright lights. Turning around I waved the mother over and told her to get something for her and her mother. She put up a small fight, but eventually gave in when she realized I had already put our orders together.

“Thank you so much,” I thought she might burst into tears when my card was approved. “You really didn’t need to do that.”

I shrugged, “It was nothing. Have a nice vacation.”

Walking to the pickup area, my order was already waiting for me. With nothing more than a simple wave, I left the dysfunctional family behind. The grandmother’s loud thank you seemed to echo off of the airport walls, but it was a little less grating now that I knew I would never hear it again. 

Andy threw herself at me when I finally made it outside, little Dani wrapping her arms around my legs with squeals of delight louder than her mother’s. Taking her pretzel, Andy gave me a fat, wet kiss on the cheek and told Dani she could eat in the car. 

“How’s gymnastics, girlie?” I asked the little girl once we were in the car. “Still kicking ass?”

“No,” She laughed. “I quit, like, forever ago. Appa put me in ballet classes.”

I gave Andy a look. The red head rolled her eyes, fixing me with a knowing look. I had been telling Jin to put her in dance for years.

“It’s been two weeks and she’s already trying to talk him into figure skating.”

“You’re a little hustler, huh?” I reached into the back, squeezing her knee. Dani giggled, angling her body away from mine. She was very ticklish. “Keep at it. You know your dad’s a sucker.”

Dani laughed, “My vovó says the same thing.”

We listened to Olivia Rodrigo on our way to the Kim house. Hoseok and Matilda had planned a huge coming back party for me, and from what it sounded like, I was going to meet Tilly’s new boyfriend. 

“Anything I need to know about Max?” I asked.

Andy was almost as in the dark about the guy as I was but was able to tell me he was a tattoo artist from California. The two of them met at Frank’s bookstore and by the end of their conversation Max had managed to get her out to dinner and in his bed. It was a whirlwind romance, one that made me feel uneasy about its foundation, but I was still obligated to be happy for my friend. They could be soulmates for all I knew, and I was not about to judge anybody else for their version of a first date.

“I don’t want to talk about tattoo guy anymore,” Andy whined playfully, turning up the radio when “Good 4 U” came on. “I need to know more about your little boyfriend.”

I groaned, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

This was why I was so adamant Jimin stayed away. We had yet to have a real talk about what we were, choosing to wait for our first date to iron out those details, but no one in my circle seemed to understand. All they heard was the word date and suddenly wedding bells started going off. 

“Stop deflecting. We both know he’s your boyfriend, official or not,” She laughed, stealing looks at her daughter in the rearview. “What’s he like?”

It was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, I felt like I knew him better than anybody else, but I was self aware enough to know I didn’t. His body language, the way he looked when he beat his best time, and all of his preferred gear were seared into my mind. The movies he liked, his favorite albums, and all of the best tv shows ever made. He went to college. He was the sweetest, kindest, most understanding person I had ever met, and yet… he still felt far away. The shadows that oftentimes clouded his vision were still a mystery to me, and when he came into practice with a lost look on his face, I felt helpless. I knew him and yet I didn’t.

“He’s quiet,” I finally landed on. “Very nice. Always willing to help other people out if he can. You’d like him.”

Andrea scoffed, “That’s it? The first guy you’ve dated in years and all you can tell me is I’d like him?”

“We’re still getting to know each other,” I sighed. “What do you want to know?”

We spent the rest of the car ride going over the last two months' worth of pining. I told her about Fiona, Jimin’s family, and all of my new friends. She almost pissed herself laughing when I told her about the night he asked me out, making so many Hoseok and Tilly jokes I had a difficult time focusing on the story. Andrea seemed to be finished with her interrogation when we pulled up at her house. 

Dani ran to the front door, her excitement about the party making any discomfort I had disappear. It was hard to feel uncomfortable with her around. Taking my hand in hers, the little girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, shouting at her mom to hurry up, and opening the front door anyway. Andy told her to calm down, and I just chuckled and went along with it.

The living room was filled with all of my favorite people, a large ‘welcome home’ sign hanging on the large, backwall. Underneath it was a huge table covered in food, a cake in the middle of it, and I had a feeling Sarah made it. Both her and Frank were the first people to notice me, their faces lighting up, and I let go of Dani’s hand in favor of embracing the elderly couple. The rest of the party comers erupted their voices loud and filled with love as they took turns passing me around. 

“Missed you, Otter,” Hoseok murmured in the crook of my neck, hands secured around my waist.

“Missed you more,” I replied, releasing him and catching Tilly. “Jeez, girl. Trying to kill me?”

“Come meet Max,” She replied, dragging me away from Hoseok.

Max was a tall, lanky guy with black hair that fell down his back. His clothes were on the baggier side, all black, and I recognized the band on his t-shirt from the shit Matilda liked to listen to in the car. He smiled at me, and I was surprised to see him rocking adult braces. He introduced himself, his voice deep and warm, and shook my hand. They were baby soft and covered in tattoos. 

“It’s great to see you,” I replied, genuinely meaning it. If I had to picture a guy more perfect for Tilly, I would come up empty handed. “Thanks for coming.”

He flushed, impossibly pale skin turning a bright shade of red reminding me of Jimin. 

“Anything for Mattie,” He replied.

Huh, he had his own nickname for her and everything. I would need to hang out with Max more before I could say if I liked him or not, but so far, I had a good feeling. Andrea’s worries seemed a bit silly now. They really liked each other, and Tilly’s heartbreaking, dimpled smile made me feel more confident in her partner. They would be just fine. 

The party was fun, and I ate more spinach and artichoke dip than was healthy. Hoseok and I talked about my afterschool visit tomorrow. The boys had a swim meet Saturday and the two of us were hoping we could tag team in order to iron out any issues they had been having. I was being placed in charge of the freshmen while Hoseok made sure the other kids were feeling confident and ready for the meet.

"Let's party!" Frank boomed, lifting a beer into the air.

I laughed, "Be careful, old timer. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

I thought of Jimin again. That sounded like something he would say. Surrounded by the people I loved, I laughed hard and partied harder. The plates of food came one right after the other, and I was happy that I still had a place here. Falling back into my step, I fit seamlessly back into the fold.

"Dance with me," Hoseok demanded, tipsy and red-faced.

"It's your toes," I replied, taking his head and letting him take the lead.

The other couples were already dancing and hooped and hollered as I awkwardly followed the steps. I was not always a bad dancer but lost some of my rhythm in the accident. Hoseok never minded and let me step on his feet without a single complaint.

"You look happy," He commented, spinning me around.

I smiled, "I am."

He smiled back, wincing when I stomped down on his toes again. I apologized, but he just held my hand a little tighter and kept moving. I hummed along to the song, filled with joy. He spun me again, and finally let me go when I slammed into Jin.

"Go get some cake or something," He laughed. "You're too dangerous to be out here."

I rolled my eyes, "I tried to tell you. It's your fault you don't listen."

"Don't need you anyway. I have enough swag for the both of us."

I watched, thoroughly amused from the sidelines, as he moon-walked around the living room.

I left just before midnight after staying behind to help Andy and Jin clean up. The others left a few hours before to get back to Denver at a decent time. My house looked the same as always, dark and empty, but I could tell the landscapers had been around. The grass was recently cut and edged.

The silence inside was deafening. I had always known my place was too big for one person, but after spending so much time in my little she-shed at the Andersons’ house, everything here just felt excessive. Tossing my keys in the bowl beside the door, I wiped my eyes and decided to just head to bed. I would only be here for three days. I would be back in Saline before I knew it.

Dragging my body upstairs, this sudden depression-filled fatigue made my shoulders feel ten times heavier. A chilling, almost insidious, hollowness began to spread across my body. I knew this feeling all too well and it made me feel pathetic. Could I not be on my own anymore? Had I really grown that attached to my life in Michigan? Finally getting into my bedroom, I realized that I had.

Saline was perfect. Living in Colorado Springs has always bothered me. The people here held more traditional values and making friends was difficult. I had Andy and Jin, but they were both very busy people. Andrea was a full-time nurse, Jin’s schedule was somehow even more erratic than his wife’s, and when they were off, they wanted to spend time with Dani. I was lucky if I saw them once every two weeks. 

Hoseok, Tilly, and Minho all lived in Denver, and while I saw them more often due to the meetings with Frank and Sarah dragging me into the city, it was not like we hung out every time I was out there. Days would go by with me speaking at all, and most of my weekends were spent in bed sleeping. Working at the school helped, but I would never claim anyone from the swim team to be a friend. I was not in the habit of befriending children.

Living in Saline was different. Jimin was always there to make me laugh, and when he wasn’t, I had people like Taehyung and Sam to keep me company. Giselle was young, but we got along so well I often forgot about the difference in age between the two of us. Megan and Yoongi were Michigan’s own version of Andy and Jin, and I could see myself becoming good friends with them given enough time. No one had kids, no one was too busy trying to keep up with crazy expenses, and I could find a little house away from the rest of the world to spend my life in.

I thought of the Parks, a family who I had come to love more than I thought was possible, and the Andersons who took me in and always tried to make me feel comfortable. Eloise and her kindness. Luna and Cameron. All of them. I loved and adored every single one of them, and it was then that I finally let myself really think about what I wanted.

Did I want to come back here after I was finished with the season? Did I really want this massive house if it meant I had no one to share it with? No, I decided. Stripping out of my clothes, the numbness was being replaced with a different strange feeling. It felt suspiciously like hope. Excitement came to me so rarely it was foreign and odd, but nice all the same. Jittery, I took my phone out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?” Jimin’s voice was scratchy when he finally picked up.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, but it’s okay,” I could hear him shuffling around in his bed. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, climbing into bed. Then, without thinking, I blurted, “I think I want to move to Michigan.”

I held my breath as I waited for his response. There was no telling how this conversation would go, but I was hopeful. Even if this whole date thing did not go very well, I was positive that we would be able to move past it with a little bit of time. We worked well together and if he was comfortable with it then we could continue working together. Regardless, there was always coaching at a school.

“Like, permanently?”

I nodded but after a moment of silence remembered he could not see me.

“Yeah.”

My stomach started to churn. As the silence on the other end began to stretch, the excitement I felt before faded. Even if I said Jimin and I could get past a potentially awkward break up of sorts, I would not pretend that the thought did not make me physically ill. We would never be the same if that happened. It would be something to think about if it came to pass before the Olympics was over.

“Did something happen?” He finally asked, and I could hear the genuine worry in his tone. “Are you okay?”

The fear shifted to hurt, irritation, and anger, making my eyebrows knit together.

“I’m fine,” I could not keep the bite from my voice. It was petty and wrong of me, but his insinuation that I was not in my right mind was insulting. It made me feel like a child. “Just- forget I said anything. I don’t know what I’m even talking about.”

“Don’t do that,” His steady calmness made me even angrier. “I’m only asking you because it came out of the blue, not because I’m not happy with the idea.”

Now I just felt silly. Here I was making these small revelations, waking him up from his sleep, and then getting snippy because he did not respond the way I had wanted him to. Ugh, I wasn’t even his girlfriend yet and I’m acting like Darcy. A shiver went down my spine. That was an insult above all others.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, the attitude from a few seconds before gone as quickly as it came. “I got defensive for no reason. Sorry.”

He chuckled, the sound barely audible over the phone.

“I forgive you. Now, why do you want to pack your life up for good?”

That made me laugh. It was a sad, pitiful sound. One that did not hold my usual spunk. One I don’t think Jimin had ever heard before. It was impossible to feel sad when he was around.

“I forgot how quiet my house is,” I admitted softly. “I love my friends, but I think coming back just reminded me of how easily I was able to fall back into the routine of it all. Jin and Andy are parents, Tilly has a new boyfriend, and Hoseok and Minho are always so busy with their own lives that I don’t see any of them as often as I would like to.”

Turning on my side, I blinked back a few tears.

“It might sound stupid, but I really do love Saline. I like how busy I am and all of my friends. I bought this place with the hopes of kids and a dog one day, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen, and now it’s just rooms collecting dust. I just-” I let a tear fall, my emotions starting to bubble over. “I don’t like how lonely it feels out here.”

“Doesn’t sound like you like it there. Have you always felt like this?” He asked.

I shook my head, the tears free falling in between sniffles and shaky breaths.

“Not always. Ever since Namjoon died things have been weird. There was a point when I felt suffocated because no one would leave me alone, and then one day everything resumed, and I just got left behind. It was like I woke up and two years just passed me by.”

Jimin comforted me while I cried, telling me how much he hated to hear me so upset, while I worked on calming down. There had been a time in my life when I was not so emotional, but therapy had opened up a whole new side of myself I didn't know existed. Rubbing my face, I sniffled and sank deeper into my mattress. For now, the waterworks had stopped.

“You were recovering,” He soothed. “Your body needed time to heal, and you were traumatized. I don’t think anyone can blame you for zoning out for a bit.”

I hummed, “I know. Doesn’t make it easier to swallow.”

“I know how you feel. When I pulled out of the Olympics last time there was a part of me that felt like a huge failure, but my dad was there to help get my head back on straight. He doesn’t seem like it, but he’s a really great shoulder to cry on.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” My voice was like sandpaper. “James is the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

I felt heavy. Worn. Used. My eyes begged for me to shut them, but we were just getting back into safer waters, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble. I yawned, covering my mouth and hoping Jimin could not hear the sound. He had gone quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin’s voice broke through the comfortable silence that had formed around us. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“Shoot,” I forced myself to smile.

“What happened to Namjoon?”

I closed my eyes. This was something I knew would come up sooner or later. My lip wobbled uncontrollably as the second wave of tears crashed over me. I hated talking about this, but I knew it was going to come up sooner or later. Jimin deserved the truth, and honestly, I wanted to tell him. Being vulnerable with someone felt good. Being vulnerable with Jimin was divine. He was always so ready and willing to go along with things, listening and watching my every move, and trying his best to understand me. It was refreshing. It was nice. It was familiar.

“Was he in the accident with you?” He asked and his voice was so, so gentle. 

“Yeah,” I croaked, finally finding my voice. “I went out with some of my friends and got pretty drunk. I was tired and ready to go home, but my ride didn’t want to go home yet. So, I called Joon.”

I sucked in a deep, loud breath. Jimin told me I could stop, that I didn’t owe him anything, but I ignored him. This wasn’t about owing him. This was about letting the guy I liked get to know me. This story was a part of who I was, as fucked up as that may sound, and I wanted him to get to know this facet of my life as deeply as he knew the present day one. 

“Anyway,” I continued. “He offered to come and pick me up. Twenty minutes later I’m getting into his car and we’re on our way home. We’d just gotten engaged and bought our first house together- things were perfect. I had never been happier.

“We ended up taking the long way home because of an accident on the interstate. It was my idea, and Namjoon had a knack for going along with whatever I wanted. We were only two minutes away from the house when we got hit.”

I took a few deep breaths and wiped my face. Jimin was quiet on the other end. After a minute or two, I jumped back into the story.

“There was a four-way intersection around the corner from our place. Our light was green when we drove up. I don't think he thought to check if there was another car coming. He never even saw the truck. He, uh, died on impact.”

“Jesus,” Jimin breathed.

“The other guy was drunk as hell behind the wheel. Not paying attention. Funny thing is, he was the only person who didn’t get critically injured. Just a broken arm and a concussion. He wrapped our car around a light pole. My leg was pinned between the car and the light, and the airbag is what caused the brain injury.”

Jimin cursed under his breath, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Me too.”

He let me cry for a little while, saying over and over again how sorry he was and how he wished he was in Colorado with me. I did not have anything to say to him. It felt like my chest had been ripped open and my heart was on full display. 

I never questioned how quickly we went from barely talking, to joking around, to sitting up late at night on the phone talking about life. It just happened. Clutching my phone in my hand, I let out a deep breath and held back any more tears from falling. I never said it, but I wished he was here, too.

“Hey,” His voice was gentle when he spoke, so fragile and sweet, that I had to force down the sobs threatening to come out. “I just want to say I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. You wanting to move here is probably the best thing I’ve heard all fucking year, but I just didn’t want to sway your decision.”

Sniffling, I tried to tell him I wasn’t upset, but he shut me down almost immediately.

“Let me finish,” His voice did not leave room for argument. “I know I don’t act like I’m insecure, but I am. I can be selfish and self-centered, and I’ve always had to really work on those parts of myself.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with anything,” I mumbled, curling into a ball beneath my blankets. 

“Like I said, I can be a very selfish person,” He sighed. “There was this part of my brain just wanting to hear you say you were coming here and staying with me for forever. I didn’t want that to take over the narrative. And- no offense, but if you did move all the way out here just to date me, I think I’d be a little creeped out honestly.”

I snorted. Hearing that he felt the need to explain any of that to me felt like a small win, even if it did make an alarm go off in my head. It took courage to be that open and honest with another person, especially someone who just cried their eyes out. His compassion and understanding never failed to amaze me, and I was grateful he trusted me enough to let me into his mind for once. Still, it did not make the creep comment any less funny.

“Don’t laugh,” He whined, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “I’m being serious.”

“So do you want me to be a creepy stalker or not?” I joked, hoping to lighten up the mood. “Make up your mind, kid.”

“I think I just want you to be yourself,” I melted. “That’s been working out just fine so far. I mean, if you are a creepy stalker, you managed to get me to like you.”

“Mission accomplished,” I breathed, still reeling from his sweet words. “You better watch out, 007. There’s a new spy in town.”

“So, I’m Bond and you’re Joe Goldburg?”

“Exactly,” My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. “Penn Badgley would be a decent James Bond. He was really great in Margin Call.”

I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile.

“Holy shit, you actually watched it?”

Margin Call was one of Jimin's favorite movies from 2011. He kept a very large notebook filled with all of the movies he’s ever seen, along with ratings, and if he should ever watch them again. He went through it one day and came across the action film, rewatched it, and then spent most of the day talking my ear off about how great it is. 

“Someone I know was very passionate about it, and it managed to pique my curiosity.”

Jimin sighed, but I could not tell what emotion was behind it. Definitely was not anger or frustration. Not sadness either. 

 “What time are you getting back on Sunday?” He asked, and I could definitely hear the affectionate tone his voice had taken on.

“Um,” I thought about it for a moment. “Six, I think.”

“PM?” 

“Yeah,” I curled up under my blankets. It was beginning to get really cold inside, but I did not want to get up to turn the heat on. “I have to double check my flight times, but I know it’s somewhere around there. Why? What’s up?”

“I know we already made plans for next week, but I was thinking I could pick you up from the airport and we could go out.”

My face grew hot, “I don’t think I’ll be dressed for a date.”

“You always look great,” He assured me.

I laughed, nervous and embarrassed, “Thanks.”

We had originally planned our first date to be the weekend after I got back. Jimin was adamant about giving me an experience, and I had been more than happy to indulge him a little. He was just so cute when he got excited. We were running on a limited timeline right now, though, since he had an upcoming swimming fundraiser with Swim Across America in Allendale. The team was raising money for cancer research, and I was very excited to be there to show my support.

Moving the date up meant we would have less to do next weekend, unless Jimin still wanted to keep our plans in place, but it meant we could focus on the fundraiser instead of trying to juggle a date at the same time. 

“I hate to go, but I’m really tired,” Jimin yawned. Pulling my phone away from my ear I was startled by how late it was. “I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

I apologized for keeping him up so late. “Promise I won’t do it again.”

He hummed, already beginning to fall asleep, “Don’t mind. You’re always welcome to bother me in the middle of the night.”

“Night Jimin,” I whispered, blood pumping.

“Night bug.”

There was one thing I missed about Colorado- how quickly the snow melted. Michigan was seeing more snow as each day went by, but here in the mountains they would not start seeing the worst of it until the spring. For the first time in a month, I was able to forgo my large, puffy jacket in favor of a long sleeve and jeans. Jimin found my excitement over this endearing, sending a slew of heart-eye emojis in response to the mirror photo I sent him.

It was almost the end of the day when I pulled into the high school parking lot. The entire front office erupted in excitement when I walked through the front doors, hugs and well wishes overwhelming me. Sandra, the receptionist, could have talked all day if I let her, and after signing in, I politely told them all I needed to meet up with Coach Jung. I lied about stopping by on my way out and only felt a little bad about it. They were way too much for me.

“They’re going to be so excited to see you,” Hoseok mumbled, a smile stretching across his face as loud teenage boys got closer and closer to the pool house. 

“I’m happy to see them, too,” I replied. “Should we wait until they change to make the grand reveal?”

He shook his head. “Would you rather hug now or when they’re in speedos.”

I shivered, disgusted by the mental image.

“Thanks for putting that in my head, you sick fuck.”

Choking on his spit, Hoseok bent over, laughing so hard he started to screech. His laughter reminded me of a ghost's wail and was contagious. We were both so wrapped up in our little bubble we did not notice the doors opening.

“Coach?”

Wiping my cheeks, I caught my breath and made eye contact with Jordan. Baby blue eyes widened while a large, dimple smile overtook his face. Behind him, Gabriel announced that I was here, and the room was filled with excitement. I was not much of a hugger, but I was happy to greet each boy with one. Gabriel hadn’t stopped speaking since catching sight of me and had a few accidental slip ups about how much he disliked Coach Jung.

Hoseok had alluded to that being their main issue right now. The boys were having a hard time adjusting to a new face and missed me dearly. To his credit, Hoseok admitted that he was still getting used to the coaching thing and made a couple mistakes his first few days here. He had made it a point to apologize to them for being a dick, but the teens hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for his snappy attitude. Especially the two oldest.

“When are you coming back?” Marcus asked. 

I smiled sadly, “I’ll be out for the rest of the year.” The tall boy deflated, sending a nasty look Hoseok’s way. “But,” I was quick to fix my mistake, “I’m planning on making trips to assist Coach Jung throughout the year. I wanted to be here for your last meet, but something came up.”

That something had been Jimin’s birthday, and I was not going to risk missing his party.

Regardless, Marcus and the team were very happy to hear they would be seeing me. 

“I promise I’ll be here for graduation, too,” I added.

Gabriel offered to give me one of his tickets and I gratefully accepted the extended offer. We stood there and talked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally told them to get changed and into the water. Without protest, all twelve of them went to the locker room.

“You know,” Hoseok chuckled. “You're going to have to teach me how you manage to do that.”

“Cinnamon buns from Mountain Shadows,” I put on my whistle and grabbed my clipboard from my duffel bag. “They’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”

The team was glowing. Jordan stood in the middle of the boys, a large smile on his face, as he praised them for giving the meet their best effort. Having another win under their belt, all of them were buzzing with excitement at a chance at nationals. They only needed to win three more competitions to qualify. 

For the first time since I arrived, the icy contempt they held for Hoseok seemed to thaw. It brought a smile to my face. If I did not come back next year, I had a feeling the boys would be getting along much better. 

“What’s for dinner?” Marcus asked, looking at me for an answer.

“Coach said something about burgers,” I replied, gesturing towards Hoseok. “You should ask him though. I could be wrong.”

Gabriel chimed in, “Yeah, we’re going to Bingo.”

My mouth watered. Bingo Burger was one of the best spots in town. Their fries were hot and crispy, and I loved their shakes. Mulling over my options for dinner, I always found myself stuck between the Gone Shroomin’ Burger and the Happy Hippie. For a vegan burger, that thing was really fucking good. Then again, a thick, juicy beef patty smothered in bacon, cheese, and mushrooms would hit the spot. Indecisive and bored, I fiddled around with my phone and somehow ended up texting Jimin.

Me: Gone Shroomin’ or Happy Hippie?

The noise on the bus was just in the background now and easy to tune out. Hoseok was laughing loudly with the freshmen while the two seniors were in a quiet conversation in the seat in front of me. Marcus and his girlfriend broke up recently. I stopped paying attention once my phone vibrated.

Jimin: No idea what that means

Jimin: Gone Shroomin I guess

I bit my lip, suppressing a smile.

Me: We’re going for celebration burgers

Me: The boys won and Hobi is treating them since we’re out in Pueblo and not getting back to the Springs until after dinner.

Jimin: Speaking of food… I was thinking we could get some BBQ on Sunday

“Y/N!” Hoseok called, making me look up from my phone. “Tell your boyfriend you’ll call him later.”

“We need you to be the tiebreaker,” Twig chirped.

“What for?” I sighed, glancing down at my screen.

Jimin: Have you been to Union Rec yet? It’s BBQ and a taqueria

Me: No but I’m always down for a burrito

“Do mermaids have gills?” Twig asked.

Fully pulled out of my phone, I flipped it around and gave the boys my undivided attention. 

“Of course not. They’re mammals, so it would be a blowhole.”

Hoseok clapped his hands, “Thank you! That’s exactly what I said.”

Sliding further down in the booth, I closed my eyes and drowned them out again. Colorado’s air was so dry and crisp I was having to get used to the altitude change. I missed how wet and cold Michigan was. Smiling to myself, I remembered how much I hated it when I first landed. So much has changed…

Shuffling, I made myself more comfortable. We were only thirty minutes out from the Springs now, and we would be at Bingos right on time for Hoseok’s reservations. Feeling myself growing tired, I sunk even further into the booth. Eyes heavy, I let them slip closed, and slept for the rest of the bus ride.

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I smoothed down my skirt for the millionth time. The gray sweater I had thrown on seemed too casual now that I was looking at myself, but I did not know what else to do. It was a laundry day, but when I went to put my clothes in the dryer it refused to turn on. Violet said they needed a new one anyway, but that did little to improve my mood. The pretty red dress I wanted to wear was soaking wet and hanging from the shower rod to dry. I played with the skin on my lip, willing the black and gray outfit to somehow look nicer. On the other side of the phone, Andy sighed.

“You look fine,” She insisted, running her hand through her auburn hair. “Do a cute hairstyle and put on a nice pair of earrings, and you’ll be golden.”

“You don’t think it’s too plain?” I had asked her this five times now, and each time I got that same reply. “I mean, do I look like I’m going to a funeral?”

“The guy has seen you in sweats and no makeup and still wanted to take you out. Do you honestly think he cares about the color of your outfit?”

She had a point. Finally deciding to cave in and give up on my obsession, I took her advice to do something with my hair. A few of the strands were beginning to look silver, and my sideburns were looking paler every day, but after Hoseok told me he was starting to see a few grays, I decided to leave them be. If we were both going to be silver foxes, I liked the idea of doing it together.

“Are you wearing heels?”

“No,” I shook my head. I picked my phone up and went to my bedroom to find a pair of earrings. “It’s too icy. Silver or gold?”

She thought about it for a second, her face scrunched up cutely. 

“Silver.”

I landed on some thick, gun-metal hoops. They matched the color of the sweater perfectly and did not take away from my face too much. I had spent too much time on looking this nice to have an accessory dominate. Andy was happy with my choice.

I had gotten back a little earlier than I originally thought I would, and asked Jimin if it was okay that I meant him at the restaurant out here instead of making him drive all the way to Detroit to pick me up. He had put up a bit of a fight about it but relented when I said I was hoping we could hang out at his house after dinner. I said I wanted to get myself home, but I was really trying to see how bad the drive was from his place to mine. The thought of spending more time in his space made me feel like a teenage girl.

“How’s ballet going?” I slipped on a pair of black tights. It was freezing outside, and I wanted to have as many layers on as possible. “Has Dani made any progress in getting her figure skating career started?”

Andrea laughed but said that her daughter was getting closer to her goal every day. Jin was weak and did anything the little girl wanted if he could. This was the only issue they were both bull-headed about. Jin wanted to teach her to be responsible and follow through on things, and Dani was tired of preparing for figure skating. She wanted to be on the ice and her dad was afraid of pushing her too far too young. I was most definitely a team Dani instigator, and it was a point of contention between Seokjin and I.

“What did you think of Max?”

I smiled. That boy was definitely a character. The gang and I had a nice dinner before I left Colorado, and Tilly brought along Mr. Tattoo guy. He was quiet and when he did talk, he always had something completely random and out of the blue to say. He fascinated me and when everyone started huddling in their own groups to chat, I turned most of my attention to the new guy. 

He was a sweetheart, and it was a nice change of pace getting to know him. He hated being called Peter (his first name), went to college for nuclear engineering, and became a tattoo artist on a whim. A buddy of his wanted a new piece, paid Max to draw it, and trusted the guy with a tattoo gun. He was an apprentice in San Francisco for three years before moving to Denver to open up his own shop. For all of his eccentricity, he was very successful and down to Earth.

“He’s good for her,” I finally replied, zipping up my Doc Martens, I checked the time. I would have to leave soon. “I’m just happy there’s no drama between her and Hobi.”

It had been a year since they officially broke up, but I knew they fell into bed with one another a handful of times since then. Hoseok and I had talked about their weird relationship on one too many drunken nights, the swimmer the only person able I liked enough to force a glass of whiskey down. Tilly knew that I knew and would vent to me sometimes. They loved each other, knew one another better than anybody else, and it was easy to fall back into each other since we were in the same circle.

 I doubted Andy knew anything about that, we tried our best to keep her out of the loop, but she always said that they still had lingering feelings. I hoped Hoseok was handling this news well. He seemed fine, happy even, so I just rolled with it. If he had a problem, I was sure I would have heard about it by now.

“Speaking of Hoseok,” The humorous tone in Andy’s voice caught my full attention. “Apparently, Jin saw him at The Rabbit Hole with some blonde girl before you got into town. He just remembered to tell me last night.”

This was news to me. Wracking my brain, I tried to figure out if he had brought up a date, or even a person he might be interested in, but nothing came up. Shrugging, I let it go. It was probably just some girl he picked up at the bar. Still, that would be an expensive date.

“He hasn’t told me anything about that,” I murmured.

“Might be why he’s not bothered by new boyfriend.”

I laughed, “Or it could be that they’ve moved on.”

“Oh, please,” She pulled a face, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “We all know that’s not true. At least, not until recently.”

“Regardless,” I sighed, grabbing my purse and walking out of the front door. “It’s none of our business. If they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

Andy raspberried, “Boo. I hate it when you’re all mature and adult-like.”

“And right,” I joked. “Don’t forget about that part.”

Locking up my little house, I made my way through the Anderson’s. Violet was watching the Golden Girls on the couch while Calvin was reading a book beside her. It was a sweet scene that made me smile. I wanted what they had. 

I gave them a smile and wave as I passed by. Violet returned it in full, her eyes kind and gentle, before going back to her show. Calvin put his book down and asked what time I was planning on coming back. He wanted to keep an eye out for my car.

“Around midnight,” I replied, moving my phone away from my mouth. Andrea was rambling about the new doctor on staff. I trusted her disdain enough to know he was a huge dick. “See you two tomorrow.”

“Be safe out there,” He replied, going back to his copy of The Catcher and the Rye.

Andy and I were on the phone for the entire car ride into Ann Arbor. I enjoyed hearing her voice, the small distraction welcome when I felt my anxiety spike. Thankfully it was a Sunday night, and the streets were somewhat empty.

Once I got into the downtown area, I drowned out her voice completely. Andrea never minded. She just kept talking like I hadn’t stepped out of whatever conversation we were just having. Never got mad when I kept asking her to repeat herself either. She was a wonderful friend to me, and I was grateful to have her in my life. If I moved to Saline, she would be the person I missed the most.

I still hadn’t talked to anyone else about the possibility of moving. I was not sure how they would react, and I needed to have my mind made up before giving any of them the news. While I knew Andy and Jin would be supportive, and Tilly and Minho wouldn’t really care all that much (it just gave them an excuse to vacation in Michigan), it was Hoseok I was most on the fence about.

With him it could go either way. He would either be really happy and supportive or call me crazy. It came from a place of love, and I respected his opinion more than any of the others, so I had to be completely sure of myself before getting into something like that with him. If he thought for a second I was rushing into things he would go into overprotective, big brother mode and kill all of my excitement. He might even be able to change my mind if he fought hard enough. 

Pulling up to the restaurant, I was impressed by the sheer size of it. One half looked like an old warehouse while the other half was a small, white bricked building. A red neon sign glowed in the night and a large party was hanging out outside of the building. I could see Jimin in their little group and smiled. He was a very popular man in this area and was able to make new friends wherever he went. If I had to guess, he knew someone and is now best friends with all of them.

“Hey, I just got to the restaurant. I’m going to let you go.”

“Okay, baby,” Andy replied. “Have fun. Talk to you later.”

“Text you when I get home,” I replied. 

Andy was as hypervigilant about getting texts as I was. She was on staff at the hospital when Namjoon and I first arrived. I can’t remember anything from that night after getting in Joon’s car, but when Jin and I spoke about it he said Andy was one of the nurses having to help triage me. She had to be physically pulled away from my body once the doctors found out about our connection, but the image of my body that night is burned into her mind. She was the person who took care of me the most upon release and quit her job at the hospital for a little while in order to make sure I was well taken care of. Calls and texts were just our thing now and I always felt horrible for being part of such a traumatic event for her.

“Love you,” She said.

“Love you too,” I replied, hanging up.

Getting out of my car, I locked the doors and made my way over to Jimin. He caught sight of me before I reached the small group and broke out into a huge, heart stopping smile. Unable to stop myself, I smiled back and waved awkwardly. He said something to the group before meeting me halfway. 

“Hey, you,” He said, wrapping his arms around me. “You look really pretty.”

I laughed nervously, squeezing his waist. “Thanks. I tried my best.”

Pulling away, I was able to admire him a bit better. He was wearing light jeans tonight, a rarity as he preferred sweatpants and slacks, and a black t-shirt. A leather jacket was a staple in his wardrobe, and he always said they kept him warm enough. I never believed him. As always, everything was a tight fit and showed off his body perfectly. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I said once my appraisal was finished. “Nice boots. Where’d you get them?”

He looked down at the black, Chelsea boots and shrugged, “Nordstrom, I think. Taehyung got them for me a few Christmases ago.”

Of course he did.

“Let’s go inside. I’m cold.”

Jimin laughed, “My apologies, ma’am.”

The restaurant was packed, but Jimin had arrived thirty minutes early to get us on their waitlist, so I only had to wait five minutes for our table to be ready. Jimin brushed off the gesture as first date etiquette, but I knew better. The kid was late to everything and yet he got here early so I wouldn’t have to stand outside in the cold. It almost made me reach out and hold his hand, but my nerves got the best of me. We were at our table before I could gather up some courage, leaving a disappointed, bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m feeling Disco Fries as an app. You?”

Searching the menu for them, I nodded. “That sounds really good.”

We were quiet for a few minutes as we decided on what we wanted. The menu here was rather large, filled with Mexican foods and copious BBQ items. Having never been here before I had no clue what was good and what hasn’t, but from how many people were here I had to assume nothing was bad.

“Know what you want?” Jimin asked, breaking the silence.

I shook my head, “No idea. What about you?”

“I get the same thing every time I come,” He laughed. “The Korean BBQ Burger is really fucking good. I also like the enchiladas.”

Finding both items, my mouth watered. Everything sounded amazing, but I wanted to get a little out of my comfort zone. I just had burgers yesterday, so I was not feeling that. Maybe BBQ? Looking at the options, I shook my head. I could not eat a half pound of anything. Biting the dry skin on my lips, my brain felt like it was working on overdrive. Too many options.

“Welcome to Union Rec,” I jumped a little, startled. “I’m Annie and I’ll be your server tonight.”

My eyes locked with a pair of baby blues, and I immediately recognized her. She was the brunette from the bar a couple of months ago. Eyes sliding from me, she landed on Jimin and the bored expression on her face morphed into one of pure bliss. I did not understand why she had given me that nasty look back then, but it was much clearer to me now. She had a thing for Jimin. Remembering she had a boyfriend, one she screamed at over the phone, it made me feel nauseous. Poor Tom.

“Oh my gosh, Christian. What are you doing here?” She asked, sneaking a look at me.

“Got a hot date,” He replied cheekily, gesturing his hand my way. “You remember Y/N, right?”

She gave me one of those tight-lipped, fake smiles. I returned the favor. I was not really jealous per say, Jimin’s declaration making any possibility of that disappear, but I did not appreciate anyone trying to make me feel small. I was a gold medalist. I was a fucking Olympian. Whoever the hell this chick thought she was, I would make sure she never thought for a second she got under my skin. 

“Yeah, we met at Brecon’s,” Annie replied, completely ignoring me. “Thought she was your coach.”

Jimin either did not catch the insult or he was choosing to ignore it. His smile was still just as pleasant as it was when we first sat down. I envied his ability to keep his emotions so controlled. I knew I must have been glaring at the poor girl.

“She is,” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she’s not my girlfriend. Are you taking our order or…?”

Annie spluttered for a second before regaining her composure. All affection in her eyes was gone and replaced by irritation. It was definitely directed at me, but Jimin’s dismissal must have stung. I was happy to be rid of her. Putting in our order for Disco fries, Jimin got a Sprite and Annie left before I could ask for a drink. Sipping on my complimentary water, I forced myself to breathe in and out. She was just a petty, annoyed girl with a crush. That was all. So, what if she was being rude? I was fine. Everything was fine. After the fifth sip, I actually believed it.

Trying to keep my tongue in check, I went back to looking through the menu. Finally able to make a choice, I decided on the birria beef ramen and closed the menu. Hopefully little miss Annie wouldn’t spit in it. Hot again, I took another long sip of water.

“Excuse me.”

Jimin flagged down another waiter, a pleasant smile on his face. Confused, I put down the glass and raised an eyebrow. He winked at me before laying the charm on thick. 

“Hey Marty. Would you mind if we got a different server?”

The young girl nodded frantically, “Of course. Is everything okay?”

Jimin smiled, eyes like crescents. “Everything is fine. Just Annie on her bullshit. Don’t want to get her fired by talking to your dad.”

Marty rolled her eyes, “Figures. I’ll tell her I’m taking care of you guys. Just don’t expect me to be running around for you, man. I have an entire section by myself.”

“I want privacy anyway,” Jimin replied, smirking at me. “Thanks. I’ll tip you well.”

She laughed, “Just make sure you put it in my hand. That bitch has been stealing tips. Cosette is trying to convince pops to fire her, but you know how he is about the girl.”

Jimin shook his head, “I already know. Can you get my girl a drink? Annie ran off without taking her order.”

Marty looked at me, her deadpan stare making me burst into laughter. Apparently, it wasn’t just me. That helped. 

“Sorry about her. She’s a massive bitch. What can I get you?”

I smiled, my mood a million times better, “Iced tea, please.”

“You got it, babe. You ready to order?”

Marty took our orders and promised to be back with my drink soon. 

“How do you two know each other?” I asked Jimin, finishing off my water.

“We were in the same class back in high school. Her mom owns that flower shop on Michigan Avenue.”

That was surprising. I was positive the girl was no older than eighteen. She reminded me of a porcelain doll, her chubby cheek and big eyes adding something angelic to her overall look. Then again, Jimin did not look all that old either. It was easy to forget he just turned 24. The age gap was really messing with my brain.

Annie was back with Jimin’s drink a few minutes later. She said nothing when she practically slammed his cup on the table before stalking off. It was then that I knew who she reminded me of. Darcy. I wondered if they were friends. Definitely had the same attitude problem, that was for sure.

“Ignore her,” Jimin told me once she was out of earshot. “I’ve been doing it since middle school.”

The rest of our dinner went back without a hitch. With Annie out of the way, and Marty’s small and infrequent check-in’s, we were able to be in a bubble of sorts. He asked about my trip back home and filled me in on what happened over the weekend. He had finally told his parents about our date and said that his mom thought it was a great idea. James called me perfect a few times, too. I had a hard time believing it, but Jimin had never lied to me before. It was nice to know the people around him accepted me even if I was a few years older.

“My mom’s 9 years older than my dad,” He revealed in between bites of food.

Shocked, I stopped eating all together. I had no idea they were that different in age. Ne-Yeon looked so youthful and pretty it was hard to guess just how old she actually was. Even fighting cancer, that woman did not look a day over 40. James was also in great shape for his age. To hear they had their own age gap made me feel a little bit better. 

“Wait,” Something else occurred to me. “Your mom was in her forties when she had you?”

Jimin nodded, “45. She had Haru at 48.”

It made sense to me now. To Jimin, our age gap was nothing special. It was smaller than his parents’, and having an older mother did not bother him at all. In his eyes, we had all of the time in the world for marriage and kids. A small weight came off of my shoulders. It really did not mean anything to him. He was not just saying that to make me feel better either. 

“Do you want dessert?” He asked, his plate empty in front of him. 

I was almost done with my bowl, “What do they have?”

He squinted his eyes, thinking.

“I know they have this horchata banana pudding. It’s literally the best dessert I’ve ever had in my life. There are a few other things, but I can’t remember what they are.”

I chuckled, “Then we’ll have the banana pudding.”

Jimin was not exaggerating either. The pudding was delicious. I almost wished we had each gotten our own serving, but after seeing the bill we were happy we hadn’t. Jimin paid this time. We had a back-and-forth deal when it came to meals. I got us breakfast last Wednesday, so he was picking up this bill. This was, unfortunately, much higher than Denny’s.

“I’ll put gas in your truck,” I offered on our way out. “To make up for the difference from Denny’s.”

He scoffed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“We’re together now,” He interrupted me. “If I want to pay for a meal, then I will. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“We’ve always done that,” I argued.

“That was before,” He countered, walking me to my car door and opening it. “This is now. And right now, I’m trying to take a pretty girl, in a pretty dress, on a nice date. That includes paying for her meal.”

Getting into my seat, I pointed out that I let him do the gentleman thing all of the time. Opening my door for me, pulling chairs out at restaurants, and even walking on the curbside when we were out together. The list was endless. The least I could do was pay for half of a meal.

“I don’t do those things to get on your good side,” Jimin replied. “I do them because I want to. This isn’t transactional. So, stop worrying about being a burden. I enjoy taking care of you. You deserve to be taken care of.”

I could not think of a good enough comeback, so I just decided to drop it. If he wanted to pay for me then he could. It was his money to spend. 

“Send me your address.”

“You still want to come over?” He seemed surprised.

“Yeah,” I nodded, already pulling up the GPS. “What is it?”

He sounded like Charlie when he won the golden ticket as he gave me his address. 

“Don’t get too excited now,” I joked. “Just because I’m coming over doesn’t mean anything.”

Jimin laughed, “I pretend I don’t even know what sex is until after date three, so don’t worry about it.”

That made me laugh, “Get in your truck. I’ll meet you there.”

Looking back at him, I felt giddy. His eyes were so alight, his joy written so clearly across his face it took my breath away. A happy Jimin was the only kind I wanted to see. Blowing caution to the wind, I finally reached out. Touching his stomach, I felt the muscles clench beneath my fingers.

“Thank you,” I said earnestly.

“What for?” He rasped, placing one hand over mine, pressing my hand further into his skin. 

“For-” I broke off, taking my hand away. The feeling of him underneath me was too much. “For being so accommodating. I really appreciate it.”

He laughed, the sound strained and airy. I was too embarrassed by my actions to look at his face, but I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my eyes. Unlike me, Jimin was always brave. Hopefully some of that confidence would rub off on me. Maybe then I could reach out and hold him whenever I wanted to. 

“You’re welcome,” He replied, and my thighs clenched together at how rough he sounded. Did touching him do that? Or was it the praise? It could be both. “Drive safe, okay? You can follow me if that helps.”

I nodded, swallowing. The icy air outside did nothing to put out the blistering heat coursing between us right now. It was overwhelming how hot it was. Turning up my A/C, I pointed the vent directly at my face.

“See you in a few minutes,” I breathed, still unable to look at him.

Jimin closed my door, and I leaned back in my seat breathing heavily. I watched him as he rounded the front of my car, those pants sticking to his legs like a second skin and groaned. I had never felt this level of desire for anyone before. 

He reminded me so much of Namjoon. His beautiful brain and love for music and poetry so reminiscent it managed to bring me back to happier times. In the beginning I was afraid my attraction to him stemmed from that link. Because he reminded me of something I had loved so dearly that meant what I was beginning to feel was just a projection.

I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong. Jimin had a passion that Joon could never replicate. If Joon was a warm blanket, then Jimin was like the tide in the sea. On the surface it was calm, steady, and beautiful. Underneath that was life like nothing I had ever seen before. He was refreshing and filled with this fire for life that reminded me of my own from years ago.

Namjoon was perfect, a boy-next-door, and soft spoken. Back then I had enough of that passion for the both of us. Now I saw more and more parallels between us than ever before. I was uncertain, waiting for someone else to bring excitement back into my life, too afraid to reach out and take what I wanted anymore.

And then Jimin was there with that big smile willing to take me on whatever adventure I desired. All I had to do was ask. It was exhilarating, fun, and I was happy to be a part of the ride. His softness, his kindness, his understanding- all of it wrapped up in a pretty red bow. A gift that kept on giving.

I did not love Jimin, but I knew then that I could. With his sharp tongue and charisma, it was impossible not to. Everyone else did. Who was I to think I could be any different? I was a slave to his happiness. It was in that moment, sitting in my car, that I finally understood what was happening.

I was falling in love and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[lost-estradiographer]

I

know that voting for the status quo sucks.

To say it "sucks" massively understates the exact amount of suffering that exists under the status quo, an amount that I acknowledge I am too privileged to ever fully grasp.

I cannot magically provide some viable third-party candidate just barely a month before the election. I cannot solve Israel/Palestine Conflict that has haunted the world for over 70 years. I am a 29-year old transgender woman working her way through her own mental illnesses, trauma, and an undergraduate degree. I was never going to be the one to solve anything here.

All I can tell you is that regardless of whether you vote or not, there will be a presidential election. It's going to be a shitshow, regardless. Whether you vote or not, there will be a different president in January. Voting for the status quo may not be directly in your interests.

We had four years of Trump and we are still trying to unfuck ourselves from that. The beginning of my antagonistic relationship with the government was protesting in the streets of DC under his administration. I've fled from the Metro PD. I've put on a change of clothes and slipped out the back door of a gay sports bar.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Fucking vote.

Honestly, I

I don't want to see this voter apathy shit anymore.

People are going to keep dying under any president. Any president can, and probably wil, be morally culpable for the deaths of innocent people, both in the country and abroad. Carter might be the last president we had that wasn't overtly a war criminal and we still had foreign civilians killed by U.S. military involvement under the Carter admin.

I'm torn between asking you to block me, or asking you to message me, if you're taking the route of voter apathy. I'll tell you right away, here and now, that I probably don't have a solution to whatever problem is keeping you from voting for Harris. I can't even solve my own problems right, tbh. The government isn't really here for me, either.

But there isn't going to be some sort of miraculous revolution that results in The Ending Where Everyone Lives. If there's a revolution, then supply chains will falter and children and the infirm will die of preventable diseases and infections and complications in hospitals that would have otherwise been able to easily deal with such things. That's what happens in a revolution. I'm after the long-term idea where Humanity as a species lives. I'm after the route where we don't have an ending, we keep going.

Fucking vote, because exactly one of the two leading presidential candidates believes climate change is real, and it is the single greatest threat to all life on earth. We have spent the past 250 years, not just playing God with the environment, but actively creating an ecological niche in which future generations of humanity must continue to play God with the environment, dragging it back to a healthy place drop by drop, inch by inch, a degree at a time.

Or, I mean, don't vote. Either way, we'll all die at some point. Perhaps some of us will be lucky enough to die standing by our principles.

Those lucky few will become soil one day, just like I will.

I am begging you on my hands and knees to fucking vote, though, because our options are The Status Quo vs. Worse. That's

That's it.

There is no door number three right now. Our system, our flawed and broken and imbalanced and unjust system, does not accommodate for a third door. Whether you vote or not, you will be dragged through either Door 1 or Door 2 with all of humanity, as we whirl through the cosmos upon our tiny little speck of dust. The only other legitimate option is to allow oneself to become trampled; to become soil early. I don't say legitimate to give this option legitimacy, but to make clear that again, there is no door three. Door three is a casket. A one-way bed.

I didn't vote in 2016, and I'm hoping that you'll vote for the status quo this time, because that's the route that gives me the best odds of having a long and healthy life to regret my failure through inaction.

Just please

Fucking vote.

Or again, if you're taking the apathy route, probably just save me the time of blocking you, because you're not going to magically pull a viable third-party candidate out of your pocket less than six weeks before the election.

[justghostly-things]

Why Mike Wheeler should get Vecna'd

I might need to rant about Mike Wheeler (to like the surprise of no one.) because if it's gonna be anyone its gotta be him, right? I don't think he is gonna die, or it's gonna be the exact same as it was for Max. (Simply because we have seen it before.) but I don't think it would be beneficial to Vecna any of the other characters.

and assuming that the Duffer brothers aren't just bad writers we know Mike has been acting weird for two whole seasons now. (I personally think it was worse in season 3 but it was still strange in season 4.) The show established him a certain way in season 1 then nailed it into the coffin that this is who he is in season 2 but then season 3 rolls around and he is just... Different. (An ass) Of course, we have our theories and analysis (thank you, to anyone who have compiled all the hints into one place what would we do without you 😭This or This or This)

but still.

Since we are talking about Stranger Things S4 and S5 there are a lot of uncomfortable topics that are going to be mentioned, I do not go into details. I barely mention it. I do not describe anything, but I do talk about the themes. Please stay safe while reading

We should look at this in three ways.

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

Let's talk about Max first. Because we can work out the logic with her and then try and translate it to other characters.

I think its import for this section to know that what Max has delt with is a very scary real thing. Many children have a very similar life as Max, and all I am going to do is talk about them from within the show. I will say is you are not a bad person because you wish death on someone who is hurting you. But from here on I am talking about Max from both her Pov and Vecna's. None of these things are my thought or feeling on the greater topic of abuse and dysfunctional families.

From a story perspective why was Max the one who got Vecna'd and not like, Dustin or Lucas? If you answered because she watched Billy die. Yes. Anyone who understands a progression of a story can figure out why it makes sense for Max to be Vecna'd. We create this guy who shows you your trauma reflected back at you and then kills you as seen in both Fred (Nancy's friend) and Chrissy.

Which of the main cast of characters just went through a trauma event just the season before? Max.

I think if this is all you take from season 4 you have fundamentally forgotten one important thing about Max getting Vecna'd. It isn't just about the trauma of her watching her brother die. No, Vecna specifically targets the fact that Max deep-down wished-for Billy to die, she used to fantasize about it. It isn't just survival guilt. And we are shown this visually through Fred who also has survival guilt. Their trauma is different because Max's guilt isn't just about surviving. That is why it had to be Max. Because all of the characters could feel some sort of Survival guilt. They have watched so many people die and get hurt. it reveals two things. One is how Max truly feels about Billy's death, and two it tells us more about what Vacna is actually doing in the vision. Because he isn't just trying to torture a traumatized Max to the point that she willing to just give up. it is showing Max some "ugly truth" about her to herself. Because that is what Vecna is. Or thinks he is. He sees the world as horrible and should be corrected and the only way to do that is by "starting over". This is him showing max what is "wrong" with her and killing her (so he can start her over/create a new her)

I feel like I need to rewatch season 3 again because I can't remember exactly but I think Max most likely played a big part in season 3 where she kept meddling with Possessed Billy. (Mike did too but we will get to that(this thing is gonna be long btw)) She showed that she is willing and able to mess up Vecna's plans.

(It is kinda a debated if it was just the Mind Flayer or if it was Vecna himself that possessed Billy (and Will in season 2) but for the purpose of this we will say that he at least knows the role that Max (and Mike) played in the mall fight.)

All of this to say from Vecna's Perspective, he sees a group of kids who keep getting in the way, And they are all close to El? And one of these kids has extreme guilt about Billy? Yeah of course he targets her. It is so useful. It'll get to El and the rest of the party. Making them weaker and affect them emotionally so they are more likely to react irrationally. It's so perfect for him. Literally Max says so in the show.

and Max, (I can tell some people aren't gonna be happy with me for this so just know I love max so much please, but) she up until season 4 was a bit of a weird character. She is a confusing character. Especially in season 2, she has a lot of character inconsistencies. This video explains all of what I am talking about in this section this really well. but she isn't really a main character until season 4. She plays more of a supporting role. Especially in season 3 where she is helping El find part of independence. And yes, we know Max has a hard home life and how Billy is an ass to her. We know this but we don't really understand it until season 4. She just feels like an inconsistent character up until this point. (you know who else is an inconsistent character-) Her getting Vecna'd shows us a direct shot into her head and we can start to piece together the truth of her character. We really get to understand why she is inconsistent. And how it isn't a flaw of the writing, it's Max being 13 and dealing with a terrible home life.

the best part about it is that there are clues all over that are screaming at us and I can tell you right now that there were probably so many children who saw themself in Max. And people who were screaming about how this is why! It's because of her home life! while the rest of us were just calling it inconsistent writing. And yes, I am gonna bring it up because this is exactly what we see with Mike Wheelers character. Because the truth is that we haven't seen the whole story, we have barely seen anything of Mike for the last two seasons. (mentally i know he is on screen I mean mentally) we just have a theory on what is going on in his head. and I think it would be a waste not to use Vecna to do the same thing they did for Max for Mike and this is ignoring all of the parallels the two characters have. this is just from a story point of view and omg can you tell how passionate I am about this??

Now do i think it is impossible for any of the other character to get Vecna'd? No? it would probably be more similar to how Nancy got Vecna'd. Mostly because if my other theory is correct (is this shameless self-promotion?) I don't think there is time for like all the character to get Vecna'd.

But yeah, lets talk about a few of the character and why I do or don't think they could get Vecna'd. I will try to make this quick.

Steve: Steve is very interesting and I kind of wanna make like a character analysis about him at some point (probably after I rewatch the show) but I think it could go either way. Steves whole arc for the whole show is to show us how someone can change. Steve started as an ass and has slowly been evolving to become a better person. And I think there is a place for Vecna to come into that but idk if he needs it. I think Steve's can jump over the last hoop by himself (unlike some people who haven't even started jumping... (Mike)) Overall I don't think it will tell us anything we don't already know about Steve, but I can see Vecna wanting to incapacity Steve because of his physical strength. Dustin: Again, I am not sure what more Dustin getting Vecna'd will tell us about Dustin. If anyone has any thoughts, please don't be scared to let me know. I can see Vecna also wanting to take out Dustin because of his smarts. So strategically I can see this being something Vecna would want to "Take out" (but i am not sure how strategic Vecna is? I certainly don't think it would be the main reason that he targets someone.) Lucas: Idk, I think it would be great to have Lucus be more import to the plot but if he is gonna get Vecna'd it's gonna be about Max and him "teaming" up with the Basketball? guys. (I say hesitantly because I don't remember what sport it was...) Which we don't need to be told he feels bad about because he told us. So, idk. I guess we can talk about Will as well: but it's really all the same thing, I don't know what new information we can learn if we see him getting Vecna'd. Sure, its angsty and that might be reason enough for some people, but I know if I was writing Season 5, I wouldn't even consider it. We know almost everything that is plaguing Will. We see almost everything first hand. And sure, we knew about Billy for Max but like I said it was more than just "she watched Billy die" and sure maybe there is something I just don't see or don't know. I just don't see reason for this poor boy to go through more. The other thing is I don't see why Vecna would want to not just kill but make Will suffer. Make him have a pain full death? If Vecna wanted Will dead, Will would be dead. its plain and simple. the amount of times Vecna had Will in his grasps? I don't believe it was just luck. I would actually love to see if there aren't times where Will could be in danger, or it would make more sense for the danger to target will but for some reason it didn't, and he came out unscathed? (if I notice anything in my rewatch I will add it here) but yeah. also, there is all the parallels between Will and Vecna, so I think Vecna sees himself in will, maybe like how he saw himself in El and maybe will try and recite him. Idk but it seems (to me at least) that Vecna has more planed than, make him suffer and then die, in store for will. This is a really good analysis and this I agreed with on why Will was probably not gonna get Vecna'd. But it is a really good (and funny) video so go check it out if you haven't.

all of this is making me want to do an analysis on Vecna/henry. I don't think he is a partially new kind of villain, but I think it would be fun to try and dive into his head.

Hopeful this is my last point where I finally get to talk about my boy Mike wheeler. This is a Mike wheeler safe place. (I say as I am about to make my point on why he should go through pain and torture next season.)

I kind of have talked about some of this but let's dive into more detail (like we did with Max) and talk about my three main points

What it brings to the story

What advantage would it give Vecna (aka why would he want to Vecna them)

And how does it help the character

I feel like the story has been building up to this for a long time actually. Not only with the stalker shots that Mike is shot in but everything we see about his character. From how much we have seen his character change between season 2 and 3, to how little we actually know about Mikes inner workings. Mike is a puzzle right now. He is surrounded by character who are at least decently written and at most complex and compelling. And he is a main character? Like if Mike was a Minor or supporting character (like Erica and arguably robin) it would be weird sure but at least expectable. But Mike was THE main character in the opening season. We learn the most about him. And we see a lot of the story threw his eyes. And what? Were just going to throw all of that away? Like it was nothing?

But! I bring up the point I made about Max again. About what she was like in season two, what our impression of Max as a character and how that changed in season 4. The reason her character acted like that was because of things we didn't have connections for until season 4. All the parts were laid out in front of us they just needed to be connected. Mike getting Vecna'd will literally connect the dots for us. it'll show us an obvious and clear answer for what is wrong with Mike. Because how, honestly, are they going to show us all of these complex things that has been haunting Mike without a Vecna vision? It's the last season. We do not have endless time to unpack everything that is happening inside his head. Especially if the season is going to be as busy as I expect. We have like 20 other character who needs screen time, and we are getting introduced to more characters? And we have to fight the big bad? and there is gonna be a time skip (I swear to whatever higher being there is if they try to pull a "all Mikes' problems got fixed over the time skip" bs I am gonna be on the news for homicide. no-one will ever hear the end of it, omg. i don't even care if Byler becomes cannon, there will be war.) point is this matter is delicate and Mike lips on the matter are sealed so tight. If he hasn't said a word about this in 3 years he isn't gonna talk about it now. He needs a push, and Vecna is going to push him down a flight of stairs.

I do feel like I am repeating myself but it's crazy how similar Mike and Max character are. Almost like they are shining bright neon lights saying like look at this! notice this! and I know I am not the only one to point this out. But like what was stated in this video, Mike is almost the perfect person to Vecna'd , he not only has a connection with both El and Will. He, as Will would put it, is "the heart" of the party. He is connected to all the other character in some way. And if taking Max out would of killed motivation/ made the party unstable imagine what killing Mike would do to them? Which is why I do believe in the Mike was the original four victim theory (I think I saw someone go into more detail, but I can't find it. If I do, I will update with both links)

Also, remember when I mentioned that both Mike and Max have meddled with Vecna's plot in season 3, I just think I should point out how in the gym scene where they trap Billy in the sauna it is Mike taunting Him. And in season 2 he was the one who figured out that Will was possessed. All I can think of for season 1 is that he took El in and formed a kindling with her, which isn't strong evidence but idk maybe Vecna gets jealous easily idk.

And I think to understand this last point I would recommend watching or reading threw the links I linked all the way at the top of this discussion. but I would urge you to watch this at the very least: This video

if you haven't caught on yet, I do believe the Vecna visions are going to reveal to the audience that Mike is gay and has been the whole time. aemiron-main has a very good theory on how I think this is gonna go, because that falls into the same thought bubble as Max's. Where I think the theme isn't just that he is dealing with internalised Homophobia but his guilt surrounding his queerness. which we can easily explore through a vision. and it explains why he has been acting this way, especially in season 3. Like, can you even think about what this poor kid is going though mentally because, your best friend, literally your person got possessed, you watched as they lead to your friends new dad's death? like you can do nothing? and you blame yourself because if you had stop being gay for two seconds just to notice that there is something off about him you could have saved everyone? YEah I would be an asshole as well. Honestly, I think all the clues are there we just Vecna to piece them together.

And even in the very unlikely situation where I and like every other Byler are wrong about Mike being gay. Mike getting Vecna'd can only mean positive things for his character.

I feel like I had another point to make but I genuinely can't remember what it was T_T so, if I remember I will update this. But that is my point. Mike wheeler is gay and will be tormented by demonic infused visions of him being gay in the next season. so, you know. like an average Tuesday for any queer.

[cottagecoreismysaltlick]

Arlecchino’s story quest just revealed how old Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet are. (Spoiler kinda)

Tl;Dr: late 20s

“I wish Genshin would give us solid numbers for character ages!” Sometimes they do. And those numbers give us ages of other characters too, if you pay attention. And yeah, I know the Genshin community doesn’t like to read, but you don’t even have to do much reading for this.

And let me preface this. When you go through this much work to “justify” characters being adults some people will say it’s just “an excuse to sexualize minors”. No. This isn’t even about that.

This is about me being absolutely sick and tired with the teenagers with careers trope.

First of all, what we know:

Childe is the YOUNGEST of the Fatui Harbingers.

Childe woke up the whale when he was 14 years old, and that was 20 years ago. He is 34 years old.

Arlecchino became the Knave at 17 years old.

The Hearth siblings came to the house within a few months of Arlecchino gaining control.

Lyney and Lynette met a magician named Caesar who over 10 days, helped them hone their stage magic skills

Caesar died 10 years ago.

Toddlers can’t do street magic.

Honestly the last couple of points aren’t even needed, but they’re helpful to solidify this number. You’ll see.

Let’s do some basic Arlecchino math first.

Again, she’s canonically older than 34, but if you want her and the siblings to be as young as absolutely possible, we can start there. (Maybe she’s a few months older than Childe. Idk)

34-17=17

Absolute bare minimum, Arlecchino has been the knave, and the siblings have been in the house for 17 years.

And quite frankly, I don’t think the “kids” were embryos when they joined.

But now that we have a minimum, let’s get a maximum to cover our bases. I’m going to use the serial disappearances as a marker here, because given what we know about her she would definitely look into that sort of thing. So she can’t be much older than 37.

So, when did the siblings join the house?

First of all, let’s get a few facts from earlier involved. Cesar died 10 years ago. That means he died while they had already been in the house for 7-10 years (depending on Arlecchino’s age.)

And a widely overlooked fact that personally I think needs to be taken into account more often, is that TODDLERS CANT DO STREET MAGIC.

But I get it, this is an anime game. And for some crazy reason some fans are convinced that characters should be as young as they can possibly be.

So let’s be just, the most generous that I could possibly be here and say those kids right there are 6 years old (anime 6 year olds don’t act like real 6 year olds so I’ll give you that), and it’s been an EVENTFUL couple of months worth of mastering street magic, trauma, and joining the House of the Hearth.

6+7=13 13+10=23

So the absolute bare minimum you are being silly at this point age for the siblings is 23, and depending on how old you think Arlecchino is, up to 26.

Personally, I feel like Freminet can help us out here, but we’ll have to apply just a teensy tiny bit of real world logic if we want to get anywhere. So,

How old was Freminet when he was sent to the house?

Freminet was very close with his mother, he was incredibly skilled at fixing and building things, to the point where he would help bring in money for the family for a few years before he was dropped off at the house with the old Knave where he’d notice other children with depression who he’d seen kill themselves.

Now I ask you, does that sound like a toddler? If you’re going to look me in my eyes and try saying he was sent to the house at 5 or 6, when the earliest of memories are being DEVELOPED, you’re not just silly, you are high. There’s really only so much disbelief I can suspend here.

Let’s be generous and say he was 8 years old. You can still have your over developed anime 6 year old, but at least it gives a few years for him to have been tinkering and making happy little memories before the trauma.

Again, using the youngest possible Arlecchino age,

8+17=25

So baby brother Freminet is bare minimum 25 years old.

In conclusion, let’s use those concrete numbers here to make an age range for the House of Hearth siblings. (I could absolutely give you my personal head canon timeline, yes. Will I? Maybe if you ask nice. But this is about cold hard numbers)

You’re absolutely fucking kidding yourself here ages: 22 for Freminet and 23 for the twins.

Low end: 25 for Freminet and 26 for the twins.

Reasonable maximum (the oldest I think they could be in the flashback is 13) 32 for Freminet and 33 for the twins!!

[drewharrisonwriter]

Lifeline - Ch. 4: Restarting

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader, referred to as “Honey” 

Series Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.

Author's Notes: I have been working on this fic on and off for the past year, and this story is a little personal to me. Yes, I am trauma dumping in some scenes lol but I also want to say that there will be so many unrealistic things about Hollywood, actors, and PR/Marketing agencies here, to which I apologize.

Warnings: Angst, a little drama, lots of flashbacks. More warnings to come as the story progresses.

Read this on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dieter stepped into the bustling community center, the sound of children’s laughter and clattering art supplies filling the air. The place was alive with energy—kids of all ages crowded around long tables covered in paper, paint, and glue sticks, their eager voices blending into a cheerful chaos. The scent of acrylic paint and the faint undertone of cleaning supplies lingered in the air, grounding Dieter in a reality far removed from the sterile sets and glitzy parties he was used to.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to tamp down the unease simmering in his chest. He felt out of place in his worn jeans and plain black t-shirt, like an imposter stepping into someone else’s life. He’d agreed to this only because Honey had insisted it would be a low-pressure way to start repairing his public image. No cameras, no staged photo-ops—just him, some kids, and a couple of hours where he’d be seen doing something halfway decent. But as he stood there, Dieter couldn’t help but feel like everyone was staring at him, judging him for who he’d become.

A young volunteer approached, a bright smile on her face. She was in her early twenties, with colorful streaks in her hair and paint smudged on her apron. “Hey, you must be Dieter! I’m Sam. Thanks for coming out today—we could definitely use the extra hands.” She gestured to the chaotic tables behind her. “We’re making Mother’s Day cards, so it’s a bit of a mess.”

Dieter forced a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. “Yeah, sure. No problem. What do you need me to do?”

Sam handed him a stack of blank cards and a box of markers. “You can help the kids decorate these. They’re going all out today—glitter, stickers, the works. It’s kind of fun once you get into it.”

Dieter nodded, glancing at the kids who were already knee-deep in their projects. He could feel eyes on him, a mix of curiosity and recognition that he’d grown accustomed to but never quite learned to embrace. He pulled up a chair at one of the tables, sitting down between two boys who were arguing over a tube of glitter glue.

“Hey, guys,” Dieter said, trying to inject some warmth into his voice. “Mind if I join?”

One of the boys, a freckle-faced kid with a gap-toothed smile, looked up and stared at him for a long moment. “You’re that guy from the movies, right? My dad says you used to be really famous.”

Dieter chuckled awkwardly, unsure how to respond. “Yeah, something like that. You got a name, buddy?”

“Ethan,” the boy said, then pointed to his friend. “And this is Jake. We’re making cards for our moms, but he’s hogging all the good stickers.”

Jake shot Ethan a glare but shoved a handful of glittery heart stickers toward him. “Fine, you big baby.”

Dieter watched the exchange, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. For a moment, it felt almost normal—just another day, just another table. He picked up a marker and started doodling on a blank card, his lines shaky at first but growing more confident as he lost himself in the simple task. The boys chatted beside him, occasionally asking for his opinion on their creations, and Dieter found himself giving advice on which colors looked best or how to draw the perfect smiley face.

Art had always been Dieter’s secret refuge, a talent he rarely showed publicly but took great pride in. He could lose himself in a sketch for hours, finding solace in the simple act of creation. He hadn’t picked up a pen in weeks, maybe longer, and it felt strangely soothing to be doing something that wasn’t for show, just for the sheer joy of it.

Half an hour passed, and Dieter was surprised at how quickly he’d settled into the rhythm of the activity. He helped a girl struggling to cut out a paper flower and showed another kid how to draw a puppy that didn’t look like a potato. It was mundane and messy, but it was real in a way that Dieter hadn’t experienced in a long time. For a brief period, he wasn’t Dieter Bravo, the scandal-ridden actor—he was just a guy helping kids make cards for their moms.

Ethan watched as Dieter drew a quick sketch of a sunflower, his eyes widening with admiration. “Whoa, that’s really cool. You’re good at this.”

Dieter shrugged, trying not to let the compliment go to his head. “Thanks, kid. I’ve been at it a while.”

Ethan leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. “Did you ever think about doing this instead of movies?”

Dieter paused, caught off guard by the question. “Yeah, actually. Once upon a time. But life had other plans.”

The boy nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and went back to gluing glitter onto his card. Dieter watched him, a bittersweet smile on his face, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t entirely lost. The world outside could wait; right now, he was doing something that mattered, even if it was just to a group of kids with markers and glitter glue.

–

The weeks that followed Dieter’s first volunteer gig at the community center were a blur of carefully managed appearances, low-profile events, and calculated steps to rebuild his image. Honey had planned every detail meticulously, curating opportunities that would put Dieter in the public eye without overwhelming him—or giving the tabloids more ammunition. Each event was a test of Dieter’s resolve, pushing him to engage without losing control, to be present without falling back into old habits.

One of their first few outings after the community center was at a local soup kitchen. It was an early morning, and Dieter showed up half-awake, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and a hoodie that did little to hide his tired demeanor. The kitchen was already buzzing with volunteers, and Dieter felt the familiar pang of self-doubt creep in.

Honey was there, clipboard in hand, already talking to the staff and making sure everything was set. She spotted Dieter and gave him a quick once-over, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Rough night?”

Dieter shrugged, trying to muster a smile. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

Honey handed him an apron, her expression softening just a bit. “Well, let’s keep it together today, alright? The cameras might not be here, but people still talk.”

Dieter nodded, tying the apron around his waist. He spent the next few hours serving meals, exchanging small talk with the other volunteers, and gradually finding his footing in the repetitive tasks. It wasn’t glamorous, but it felt purposeful. Honey watched from the sidelines, her eyes never straying far from Dieter, noting every slip and every small triumph.

As they wrapped up, Honey approached Dieter with a bottle of water. “Not bad today,” she said, her tone approving. “You looked… genuine.”

Dieter took the bottle, unscrewing the cap. “I was trying, you know. Not to screw it up.”

Honey smiled, a small, rare thing. “You didn’t. Let’s keep it that way.”

—

Dieter stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. The suit Honey had chosen for him was sharp—classic black, tailored to perfection, and a far cry from the disheveled, carefree style he’d grown accustomed to. He tugged at the collar, feeling the fabric tight around his throat, as if it was trying to choke the confidence out of him. This was the first real event Honey had lined up, and it felt like a test he wasn’t sure he’d pass.

Just as he was about to grab his jacket, Dieter’s phone buzzed with a message from Honey: Be there in ten. No surprises tonight.

Dieter smirked, grabbing his keys and heading out to the lobby to meet her. When he saw her step out of the car, his breath caught in his throat. Honey was stunning in a sleek black dress, simple but elegant, her hair loosely pinned back. She looked every bit the poised, professional woman she’d grown into, but there was something in the way she glanced around that reminded Dieter of the girl she used to be—the one who would wait for him at the stage door with that same mix of nerves and excitement.

As she approached, Dieter gave her an appreciative once-over. “Damn, Honey. You clean up nice.”

Honey rolled her eyes, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks. “I could say the same for you. But remember, we’re here to make an impression.”

Dieter shifted on his feet, suddenly feeling the weight of the night ahead. “About that… I was thinking, maybe you could, you know, be my date.”

Honey raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Dieter, I’m not your date. I’m your PR manager.”

Dieter’s grin turned boyish, the kind that always used to make her laugh. “Not like that. I just meant, you know… for old times’ sake. Make it look good, keep me in line. You’re the only one who knows how to.”

Honey hesitated, the words catching her off guard. There was a softness in Dieter’s eyes that she hadn’t seen in a long time, and it stirred something in her. “This isn’t a date,” she warned, but her voice lacked the usual firmness. “I’m just keeping an eye on you.”

Dieter nodded, his smile never wavering. “Deal. Just keep me from jumping out of my skin.”

As they walked into the venue together, Dieter couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm with Honey by his side. The grand ballroom was filled with soft lighting and low chatter, the clinking of champagne glasses mingling with light jazz that played in the background. Dieter’s anxiety spiked as they stepped further in, his gaze darting around at the familiar faces—some friendly, some not. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at his tie again, feeling like the walls were closing in.

Honey noticed immediately, her expression shifting to one of quiet concern. “You okay?”

Dieter shrugged, trying to mask his discomfort. “Yeah, it’s just… a lot. I haven’t been in a room like this in a while.”

Honey nodded, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “Just breathe. You’ve got this. Remember, you’re not here to perform. Just be yourself—well, the best version of that,” she added with a teasing smile.

Dieter let out a breath, her words grounding him. “Yeah, thanks. It’s just… you know, I used to own rooms like this.”

Honey gave him a reassuring smile. “And you will again. Tonight’s just a start. Think of it as practice.”

Dieter laughed softly, her encouragement calming his nerves. They drifted to a quieter corner, sharing light conversation. Honey slipped easily between friend and PR manager, checking in on Dieter’s mood and making small suggestions—“Smile when you’re talking, it reads better,” and “Don’t grip your glass so tight; it makes you look tense.” But there were also moments of genuine connection, where they talked about the little things: the absurdity of the silent auction items, the hilarity of the overly fancy appetizers, and the nostalgia of being in a setting that once felt so natural to Dieter.

“You remember that one movie premiere?” Dieter mused, his eyes distant with memory, when in fact it was just a few weeks ago where he was invited to attend a premiere of a former castmate’s latest movie. “The lights went out and you tripped over the red carpet? You were so mad.”

Honey laughed, covering her mouth. “Oh my God, yes. I was mortified. You just kept telling everyone I was making a dramatic entrance.”

Dieter chuckled, a warm, familiar sound that pulled Honey back into their shared past. “You were. Best part of the night.”

They fell into an easy rhythm, the conversation flowing effortlessly between the past and present. Honey kept Dieter engaged, nudging him to mingle with a few key people, each time offering a subtle nod or smile of encouragement that helped him push through his hesitations. Dieter found himself more at ease, moving through the crowd with a confidence he hadn’t felt in months, buoyed by Honey’s quiet presence beside him.

As the night wound down, Dieter lingered near the exit, Honey by his side. He looked at her, the soft lighting catching the glimmer in her eyes. “This was… nice,” he admitted, his voice lower, almost shy. “It’s been a while since I felt like I wasn’t completely drowning.”

Honey nodded, her expression softening. “You did well tonight. This is just the beginning.”

Dieter hesitated, then took a small step closer. “Hey, why don’t you come over? We could catch up a little. I’ll make coffee. You can chew on all the ice you want.”

Honey laughed lightly but shook her head. “I can’t. I have somewhere I need to be.”

Dieter frowned, a flicker of disappointment flashing in his eyes. “Well, at least let me drop you home.”

Honey opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. A tall, handsome man with a perfectly tailored suit stepped out, his presence commanding but casual. He rounded the car and greeted Honey with a warm smile, wrapping an arm around her in a way that felt both familiar and possessive.

“Phil,” Honey said, her tone brightening as she introduced him. “This is Dieter. Dieter, this is Phil.”

Dieter’s stomach dropped, his earlier confidence evaporating. He forced a smile, shaking Phil’s hand with just a touch too much force. “Nice to meet you,” he managed, though his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Phil grinned, seemingly unaware of Dieter’s internal turmoil. “Likewise. Honey’s told me all about your work together. You’re in good hands.”

Dieter nodded stiffly, feeling the sting of the moment. He watched as Honey and Phil exchanged a look that spoke volumes, one filled with an unspoken history Dieter wasn’t part of. His chest tightened, like he’d taken a punch straight to the gut. He couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in his own story, like he was watching a scene he wasn’t meant to be in.

Honey turned back to Dieter, her smile kind but distant. “I’ll see you Monday, okay? And remember—no parties, no social media… for now.”

Dieter swallowed hard, managing a tight nod. “Yeah. See you.”

He watched as Phil opened the car door for Honey, their laughter mingling with the soft hum of the city night. Dieter stood there, feeling the weight of everything he’d lost and the ache of everything that could never be. As the car pulled away, Dieter’s heart twisted painfully, a mix of jealousy, regret, and something deeper—something that felt like hope slipping further out of reach.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[savagewildnerness]

I’ve been thinking about Rolin Jone’s adaptation of Interview with the Vampire and self acceptance.  

Let’s look at our main characters: Louis, Lestat, Armand, Claudia and Daniel…

You may disagree with my pondering, but I’m really curious to hear anyone’s thoughts! I thought maybe we could have a little discussion...?

As I see it...

Louis: struggles to accept his full self.

- For all the anger and violence at the core of himself.  He is afraid to look too far internally in case what he might find would be too terrifying, so instead he tries to be morally good in action.

Lestat: struggles to feel his self is worthy of love or acceptance from others.

- Lestat feels he is *too much* and there is something inherently *wrong* and flawed with himself.  He accepts and likes himself, even while acknowledging (& often revelling in) his bad, evil and negative sides, but he struggles to feel he deserves love because of how often he has been told he is wrong and unloveable and because of the *evil* side he knows is part of him.

Armand: struggles to know who his self is.

- Armand has the most traumatic of all the vampires’ backstories.  And not only that, but it was compounded by centuries of reinforcing the notion that his self doesn’t matter through serving in covens. Who truly is Armand? He never got a change to truly discover it. So he can only try to fill himself up with external input in whatever way - be it via the rules of some organisation or the input of one individual. The tragedy is, Armand has a lot of love to give and desperately craves to be loved, but he doesn't understand truly how to love or be loved, and how can he be loved when he doesn't know who he is?

Claudia: struggles to feel perceived for her full self.

- Made a vampire too young, but a full adult in her mind now; By both those who love her and even mores by anyone new she meets (at least initially), Claudia is most often spilt into either “child” or “monster” with nobody truly seeing her for all she is.  (In a way Claudia’s struggles are similar to Lestat’s I feel, except you could call Lestat’s lesser as they are more related to love, whereas for Claudia it is more fundamentally getting anyone to even see *who* she truly is.)

Daniel: struggles to feel successful in relationships.

- Daniel has had a successful career.  He knows himself and is secure in himself professionally.  But he feels he has failed anyone he has loved.  He feels he has failed in his relationships, failed with his children, failed to love others in the right way. What has his life outside his work been?

This could obviously be gone into in way more depth, including the impact of character’s race, the eras and societies and locations they were born into and their status in those eras when they were mortal, as well as their mortal experiences of love and trauma and acceptance… but I wanted to just keep it all as simple as I could.

I don’t know… I’m just wondering if by the end of the Vampire Chronicles, whether Rolin might have something to express about whether, given eternity, these immortal beings can ever fully truly accept the entirety of their selves…?

I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this or on any other themes if you'd like to share?

[theeggoman]

I am genuinely scared that once AI starts officially and somehow legally stealing art from artists on Twitter to feed into Elon Musk's AI company that there will be no more spaces for LGBT people to exist online. I'm talking about NSFW art, NSFW writing, discussions about kink and BDSM and leather, advice about transitioning and surgery and STD testing, resources for homeless LGBT youth, comics and animations and stories about queer love. The internet loves to hate gay sex. They demonize us, humiliate us, infantilize our bodily autonomy and choice and the moment you bring up anything relating to your own sexual experiences you're now a target for ridicule and shame. We are not profitable. We are not family friendly. We are "inappropriate" for normal people, and across every single social media platform we are banned. Our discussions about the basic human experience of sex expressed in ANY WAY are eventually banned. Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Youtube, Tik Tok, Deviant art, the restrictions and requirements and borderline threats from Patreon. As much as we've all hated it, Twitter has been a final stand. It's a place for furry art and gay porn and weird kinky fanfiction and BDSM. There's a community of people who exist together online and nowhere else. And people don't care that we're losing it, yet again, because they want people to like us. They want people to approve of us, to accept us. They want to be palatable for a straight audience, for a heterosexual society that has only barely begun to tolerate us out of necessity and the turn of deemed popular opinion. It's the internet mob mentality that crucified trans youth as "transtrenders" out of fear that they themselves would be targeted next. It's the accusations against drag queens being inappropriate for children. It's the LGB without the T because they fear they will be next. If they could just package us into something respectable, maybe the rest of the world wouldn't hate them so much, right? Get rid of the "bad" gays and suddenly our parents will love us again. Show them they're wrong, we're not pedophiles and rapists and groomers like they've been accusing us of being for centuries, we're NORMAL and GOOD and PURE, we like Heartstopper, not Yaoi! We don't fetishize gay men, we don't sexualize our trauma! We don't even LIKE sex! See, we think sex is immoral and shameful and wrong just like you. Will you love us now?

The truth is they will never love us. They will never want us. They will never accept us. The more we fight for our rights, they more they will try to take them way. The more we fight amongst ourselves, the more they will try to divide us.

I probably sound insane talking about niche queer Fandom spaces like some kind of gay revolution, but the ability to be unapologetically gay and trans and gross and weird and find a community of people you can be with who are all like you, who are working through that trauma together, who you meet online and fly out to visit in real life, who you love: It matters. It matters so much that they keep trying to take it away from us. I don't really know what the future holds here, I'm just rambling my anger onto the only platform that actuslly gives a shit about the artists on it. I just want the young people in the community to understand that this IS a community. And it matters.

[unlikelyjapan]

s2e6 rewatch notes - part 1

I'm breaking this up over two days (for length, clarity, and my own mental health) - I pause and scribble my way through scenes as I go, so there may be a few repeats here and there.

Natalie's bereft face in the opening, attempting to disassociate but failing miserably because that's not her coping style. She obviously doesn't even smoke by the way she's holding the cigarette, she just does it because - much like working inside a commercial kitchen - it's the only legitimate excuse for a break from the chaos. Both she and Mikey act like they've just exited the fog of war (because they have) and - unlike Carmy - they've never had the emotional or material means to escape it.

Sugar's "No one can make anyone else act a certain way" comment to Mikey - it's very clear that they perceive mental illness from very different angles. Mikey admonishes Natalie for her check-ins as an attempt to blunt/control Donna's outbursts, and Sugar's skepticism of Mikey's strategy of just riding the lightning/ignoring the outburst (while acknowledging that he and Carmy have more success, but she attributes most of that to being the female middle child of a grievously ill female narcissist).

Carmy coming out = a hot mess of family dynamics. He asks Mikey (innocently enough) to come in and handle the crowd by being "fun cool guy" and Mikey assures him that he will, but with a vacant look in his eye (no wonder this man was on drugs, what other choices was he afforded?). Fak is literally yelling indistinctly inside, upping the chaos, as Richie bursts outdoors amidst the three siblings to ask if "there's any family shit going on that he should know about".

Along with just trying to be ok themselves, these three adult Berzattos are a magnet for every other wayward adult-child who needs a home to reckon with their own trauma, and their inclusion becomes their problem as well and only ups the frequency of the despair. Mikey literally makes space for the three of them by dismissing Richie "for a minute", and you can tell that's not normal protocol.

"Would it kill you to pick up the phone?" - Carmy is already wounded by Mikey more than 4 years before his death. You can immediately tell by Mikey's earnest response (along with his previous discussion with Sugar) that he was just keeping Carmy at arms length to ensure he never returned, to spare just one of them from a life of hardship. In spite of everything else we see about Mikey and how poorly he manages his trauma in this episode, he is an inherently good brother who started early in inciting loathing in the person he loves above all others just to save him.

I wanted to peek behind the "Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us" bit, as you know damn well it wasn't selected by Storer by accident. The whole idea is that Mary, the Mother of Victory "pleads our cause with a mother’s heart and concern with whatever we bring her. Confident that Our Lady’s prayers are always heard we pray"

I may be reading too much into this, but that's a whole fuckton of power projected onto Donna. Even though it's said in jest, its maternal compassion and mercy that was never extended to the Berzatto kids. It could also be seen as "only Donna's prayers are heard and answered" (through the placating and emotional gymnastics performed by her children) so they utter this little prayer to her as much as they do to God - for control, for relative calm, for the day to simply be ok. They know better than to expect much more than that.

What is the actual point of Fak and Ted? I mean this narratively. I know that the Ricky actor who plays Ted originally worked on the set of The Bear in S1. Did the producers think they had an awesome "boys club" vibe and just plop them in as chauvinistic comic relief? Or is this part of a long-con? Do Fak and Teddy embezzle all of The Bear's money and retreat to Hawaii or something? Right now it's giving "Matty Matheson needs to sell more cookware" and I need a reason for this set-up, as the rest of the players offer more than enough relevant chaos to the episode.

Also, when they ask "Mrs. B, are our skateboards in here? Can we sleep over?" as Donna is cycling in the kitchen - Matty Matheson is in his 40's, so he time-traveled back to a rough-looking 35 to freeload off of his fake-besties Mom and aid in her spiral? I don't get the age timelines/ideas on what arrested development in this show are anymore....

"Say the fucking words" - ooof. I feel like a lot of ink has already been spilled on what the word "love" means in the Berzatto realm, but no wonder Carmy can't comprehend it even when it's right in front of him. Love to him is sacrifice and struggle, panic attacks, pacifying meltdowns, idealization and inevitable betrayal (hello other shoe!), and just saying the word because it diffuses an argument - not unlike rubbing one's chest.

So....what's the likelihood that the abusive chef at EMP is just a projection of Donna living rent-free in Carmy's head at this point? The way she lobs the ball at Carmy with all of the elements that need to be swapped when the timer goes off, the practical matters of running a high-pressure kitchen trailed with jests and insults and total emasculation. Yeah...I think it's pretty high up there.

The second Richie and Carmy trade off the homemade Sprite (before Carmy can grab the prosciutto and mortadella that his mom asked for 2 seconds ago) is just enough silence for Donna to feel abandoned and start unravelling again/start screaming about moving the pot. I can't quite place my finger on the weird amalgam of mental illnesses they gave this woman (hit me up, psych majors) but if its not over-scripted/acted, its a lot.....

Richie and Mikeys "Just take a break from being a mopey little fuck" - phew, these dudes really think that a high-school chick will be Carmy's salvation.

"I don't have a love of my life?" Carmy doesn't even flinch or show recognition of who they're talking about at first, and then it dawns on him that they've probably embarrassed him and he wants to crawl in a hole and die (which is the most honest feeling expressed this episode to date).

And wow. Donna intercepts the whole thing by throwing a spoon at Stevie and screaming "Richard, bring her the fucking pop!" - a.k.a the title of the previous episode with the house party. Those words ended the gang's harassment re: Claire, but then future Carmy willingly waded right back into the abyss of thoughtless conversations, bullying, projections, others' expectations, and the terrible Christmas.

Ok, that's it for now - I'll be back on my bullshit tomorrow.

[thornsent]

On RAMCOA, Satanic Panic, and the dangers of conspiracy theory

Lately I've seen a term gaining usage in online DID/OSDD communities, and I would like to talk about its origins and implications.

I want to establish right away that while I do not believe in RAMCOA or SRA, I do believe that these people are genuinely traumatized.

This is not written with the intent to invalidate anyone, rather I am legitimately concerned about the negative impact this is having on survivors of severe trauma as well as marginalized people targeted by conspiracy theories.

Let's begin with what RAMCOA is, and where the term comes from.

RAMCOA stands for ritual abuse, mind control, organized abuse. The term has its origins in the ISSTD, with the creation of their special interest group (SIG) dedicated to the topic. The ISSTD, which began in 1982, has a long history of controversy and is in no small part responsible for the beginnings of the Satanic Panic.

Multiple significant parties of the ISSTD have made claims of transgenerational Satanic cults dating back to two thousand years.

Michael Salter, who would eventually become the chair of the RAMCOA SIG in 2018, claimed in 2008 that there were secret tunnels and chambers beneath the school to facilitate the abuse. This claim was not only disproven, but it is reminiscent of both the Satanic Panic and Pizzagate-era allegations, both of which have also repeatedly been disproven.

Michael has continued to assert his claim as recently as 2019. In 2023, Michael Salter would become president of the ISSTD.

But Michael isn't the only sketchy person involved in the ISSTD. Founding member and former president George Greaves would lose his license for engaging in sexual activity with his patient in 1994.

Bennet Braun, the founder and another former president, has faced multiple malpractice lawsuits due to misleading his patients, resulting in distorted memories and more harm done to an already vulnerable person. Braun’s license would be revoked in 2023.

Also accused of malpractice by multiple patients is Colin Ross, president of the ISSTD From 1993-94. Ross is also known for his claim that he can shoot energy beams from his eyes. This, unsurprisingly, was disproven.

In 2020, the RAMCOA SIG was renamed to the Organized and Extreme Abuse SIG due to the optics of the term no longer suiting the organization.

We have established that the ISSTD was founded and consistently led by conspiracy theorists and abusive psychologists who have since had their licenses revoked. Let's dig a bit into the Satanic Panic and SRA.

The Satanic Panic is a moral panic that began in the 80s and still goes on today. In recent years there has been a resurgence of the same rhetoric taking new forms, but it all has roots in allegations of Satanic Ritual Abuse. The Panic of the 80s properly began with the publication of the book Michelle Remembers, written by Lawrence Pazder and his patient-turned-wife, Michelle Smith.

The text contains an account of SRA recovered through the pseudoscientific modality of recovered-memory therapy. The claims in this book have no substantial evidence and are generally regarded as a work of fiction influenced by social morality and pop culture at the time.

Over 12,000 claims of SRA were given during the height of the Satanic Panic, but even after the FBI launched an investigation no evidence of the legitimacy of SRA could be found.

The stories offered by SRA survivors are shocking: Multigenerational cults, sometimes stretching worldwide, going on for hundreds and sometimes thousands of years, in which children were bred as sacrifices and/or as slaves to “the elites of our society.”

That phrase should give you pause, because it's an antisemitic dogwhistle, and a loud one at that. The Satanic Panic’s roots go deep into history, back to the burning of so-called witches and back to the antisemitic conspiracy of blood libel.

Blood Libel is an accusation that Jews use the blood of Christians (typically children or infants) in the making of Passover bread and other religious practices. Such claims have resulted in the murder of countless Jews.

These accusations against the Jewish people have continued into modern times, seeing a resurgence within conspiracies such as Qanon’s claim that “Hollywood elites” are harvesting adrenochromes by enacting SRA upon children.

You cannot separate the concept of blood libel from the concept of Satanic Ritual Abuse and the Satanic Panic, and subsequently, you cannot separate conspiratorial thought from SRA and associated terminology.

Abuse that is orchestrated by multiple individuals is real. Conditioning is real. Religious and spiritual trauma is real. Cults, too, are real-- But Ritual Abuse, Mind Control, and Organized Abuse is not. Using these terms promotes conspiracy theories that put Jewish people and systems both at risk of harm.

Let's talk about programming now. The idea that a system can be programmed purposefully into a child is unrealistic pseudoscience.

The sheer amount of knowledge and effort an individual would need in order to maintain a constructed system like that is impossible, and this also assumes a much more widespread knowledge of DID and OSDD than is actually present.

While it is technically possible that an abuser (or abusers) may pick up on their victim's ‘quirks’, while it is technically possible that an abuser may realize doing X action leads to Z desired result for them, this is not programming. This is conditioning.

It is still a horrible abuse to inflict upon another person, but the concept of programming and mind control has its roots in yet another disproven conspiracy theory: Project Monarch.

Project Monarch was alleged to be a subset of Project MKUltra. It was said to be a project which trafficked children, using torture-based mind control to force them into becoming sex slaves for international trafficking rings, drug barons, Satanic cults, and “elites”.

These claims originate from Cathy O’Brien, who claims she uncovered repressed memories of this abuse under hypnosis, similar to Michelle Smith. She claims that this abuse led her to develop Dissociative Identity Disorder. This is echoed in the concept of programming as we see it today.

While we are on the subject of DID directly, I'd like to talk about HC-DID.

HC-DID is a community term meaning Highly Complex Dissociative Identity Disorder, which was coined to specifically describe DID caused by RAMCOA/SRA.

Other than the specific claim of origin, HC-DID is virtually indistinguishable from C-DID, otherwise known as polyfragmentation. This is a term with professional research and backing behind it, unlike HC-DID which is a term coined by someone within the RAMCOA community.

In my opinion there is no need for this term when there is already a well-known, scientifically-backed term to describe the same cluster of symptoms, and it is also well known that DID is already a highly complicated disorder with presentation varying widely from system to system. Usage of this term seems at best an alternative description for something which already exists, and at worst a way to further isolate an already vulnerable population.

To be clear, I don't for a second believe that the RAMCOA community has a secret agenda to isolate survivors or anything of the sort. I think the community as it currently stands is full of deeply traumatized, lonely, isolated, and younger plurals who are grappling for language to describe the horrific things they suffered.

I also believe that it has become a dangerous echo chamber that not only distorts people's memory, but may further traumatize and isolate them.

The RAMCOA community does not use plain language to discuss their experiences. Frequently they speak in a code, using esoteric community terms when they do not outright refuse to discuss what RAMCOA may be like whatsoever.

That is not to say that we are entitled to the stories of trauma survivors, rather that this language and how guarded the community is regarding information on RAMCOA results in a very insular community where discussing the subject with outsiders becomes difficult due to this inaccessibility of information. And this leads to these survivors feeling all the more cut off from the outside world, left with only the language coined by conspiracy theorists to describe the indescribable.

This inadvertently pushes the narrative of these dangerous conspiracies I've spoken about throughout this post. To once again make myself clear, I believe these victims in as far as I believe they went through something unspeakably traumatic at a very young age.

But with the volume of RAMCOA claims ever-increasing, yet substantiation of those claims ever-lacking, I cannot logically believe that the intense claims purported are completely and factually true given the evidence in front of me.

SOURCES AND FURTHER READING

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.ojp.gov/pdffiles1/Digitization/136592NCJRS.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwiigJ75pNuIAxX8LtAFHfjvIdUQFnoECBAQAQ&usg=AOvVaw1rF29SeYdt2ZljtHvnOLqI

https://greyfaction.org/isstd-exposed-a-culture-of-conspiracy/

https://www.nytimes.com/1997/09/10/us/hypnosis-may-cause-false-memories.html

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9531675/

https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/blood-libel

https://www.the-independent.com/news/world/americas/satanic-panic-film-movie-michelle-smith-memoir-b2300716.html

https://web.archive.org/web/20131014102812/http://www.process.org/discept/2010/02/08/dr-colin-a-ross-psychiatry-the-supernatural-and-malpractice-most-foul/

https://www.ojp.gov/ncjrs/virtual-library/abstracts/abuse-innocence-mcmartin-preschool-trial

https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1999-mar-07-mn-14693-story.html

https://www.dallasobserver.com/news/colin-ross-has-an-eyebeam-of-energy-hed-like-you-to-hear-7121325

https://web.archive.org/web/20240119125127/

https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-2004-02-13-0402130313-story.html

https://rentry.co/ssct_satanic-ritual-abuse https://scholar.google.com/scholar? hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C24&q=programmed+dissociative+identity+disorder&oq=programmed+diss#d=gs_qabs&t=1715683073093&u=%23p%3Dc6utAUJfID0J

https://guilfordjournals.com/doi/10.1521/jscp.1997.16.2.112

https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fo/r476y63t603wc9p7kpzoh/ALUZm1JXJ--kDpn34rXCSwg?rlkey=vkkkqm8w28fi11741hak63y55&e=1&st=drvkpis9

https://archive.org/details/ozian-u-w-chainless-slaves-trauma-programming/page/n210/mode/1up?q=illuminati

https://rentry.co/xy7zpu83

https://www.pepijnvanerp.nl/2022/12/dutch-commission-finds-no-evidence-for-satanic-ritual-abuse/

[archivalofsins]

It's been a good while since the end of trial two and a lot has changed in the fandom overall. Even more will change over the course of trial three. I think in this area of uncertainty and impatience it's easy to forget everything that transpired.

Admittedly I'm kind of proud of my growth over this period of time and how the experience has impacted how I interact with fandom and the internet overall.

Not to sound incredibly old fashioned but I think there's still much to unpack from trial two before heading into trial three. So, the down time between the end of trial report and now has been greatly appreciated.

A lot happened.

Haruka's broken 50/50 as people highlighted the risks of him remaining unrestrained not only to himself but others.

People stating that anyone voting Yuno guilty was a pro-life conservative, politicizing her trial as pro-life pro-choice debate. Even going as far to state that Milgram was a sexist series for including her at all.

Futa's was just funny because it was a bold faced admission by the audience that they were in fact too much like Futa to properly judge him. Amongst other things.

Mu's trial was a bunch of people politicizing it in the opposite direction using a bunch of right wing buzzwords like calling it fake news, for some reason bringing race into it from headcanoning her victim as half black, then victim blaming like her victim attacked first so she deserved to die.

Shidou well fuck we need a doctor so go off king. Like it wasn't even about him it was about Mahiru I know who I really cared about here. I couldn't give one singular fuck about Shidou even now. Oh he might hurt Kotoko I don't give a fuck if he does his doctor role what he does in his off time is his business. Nobody was thinking oh my god what about the harm the guy with the medical degree can do to others here when they voted him innocent nobody cared. Like honestly he has a medical degree he can do a lot of harm but that wasn't our problem or main concern.

Mahiru ah see he hung himself and he's probably a cheater anyway. Yes some people thought it was justified to drive a man to suicide for being unfaithful. That was a weird hill for some people to build a house on but they did. I don't know a lot of people just conveniently forgot women cheat and can be abusers as well. I don't know how some forgot that but I wish I were them.

Kazui the guilty shrine- seriously a shrine? Really... Oh also men shouldn't be allowed to get divorces because it makes women look bad. Isn't that what abusive husbands were saying when women wanted divorce rights and fought for things like no fault divorce wild. No one was thinking there yeah go on cook me nothing that would be better than the poison you're trying to disguise as feminism. It'd be less detrimental too.

Amane's second trial really was like,

"Sure her mom kills cats and beats children but we can't forget she's a cult survivor too and being a parent is hard."

Bro as someone with an abusive single mom who did some shit and went through some shit um no that's not an excuse. You can't just go parenting is hard get me my taser or my childhood was hard too it's my turn to beat kids. Like not tobring up Oshi No Ko again but the Amane trial really was just chapter 141 to me in real time (read it because that got messy later in).

"She had to live through the cult too. She was having a hard time as well what about her upbringing? Do you know how hard it is to raise a child by oneself."

Her husband was at work not dead what the fuck did y'all mean by this???

What were these takes? Nobodies trauma gives them a free pass to traumatize others- wait we'll get to you hold up put those dogs back where they came from! She's a single mom of one girl meanwhile the woman with two sons and an absent doctor husband. Not doing any of this shit. She was my rock Shidou says fully meaning it. Yuno mom two kids haven't heard a word about her killing cats or beating kids. Wild it's like it's pretty easy to choose not to do the things she did. Every other shit parent here did decide to be shitty Amane's mom included.

Mikoto oh suddenly your trauma does excuse how you responded to a situation. Work hard, such sad boy. Yeah I can believe the stigmatized version of dissociative identity disorder in this one niche situation. Japan is so backwards of course they'd still write it like this they don't know any better. So, of course the other alter is the evil one and Mikoto is still the goodest of boys- Also dissociative identity disorder isn't real unless you have a certain number of alters that act x specific way that's why there has to be this many.

With a tiny hint of if the child is guilty let's just kill this man too~

Fuck Mikoto he's had it too good. Bitch could have went home in fact we see him do it in the video! Where the fuck was Amane gonna go the streets?! We saw how that worked out in her video. Snitch ass streets, if these streets could talk- Don't worry with snitch advisory they can even if you don't want them to!

Kotoko well if you think she's bad then you don't have real trauma. Also grooming can only be sexual actually I heard the term from twitter and never looked into the act of doing this ever outside of that context. God don't even ask me to define groom as a verb.

So on and so forth. It's been a lot and this all just shit I personally experienced.

Trial two showed us one of the worst aspects of humanity,

Our ability as people to use our own experiences as the blueprint for all life.

Our stubborn commitment to seeing something only one way. Because that's always been how we've seen it. That's always been how it was. Milgram trial two and the audience for better or worse put the definition of closed-mindedness on full display.

Regardless of how inclusive, progressive, or forward thinking people believed themselves to be in the moment. We saw what a commitment to only one way of thinking could cause and who it ends up hurting. I think trial two can teach people that even the most progressive leaning individuals can cause harm.

Even those who want to support marginalized individuals or are marginalized themselves are capable of causing harm. Because when we convince ourselves that the only voice that matters is our own we silence, belittle, and ignore the experiences of those around us. It doesn't matter what politically correct framing a person attributes to their belief if one is being closed-minded it will still harm others and the movement they're purporting to care about.

It will more than likely do more harm to the people one is attempting to help the most whether that is themselves or others. That's the only thing being closed-minded can do.

[schattenhonig]

Just some thoughts on Crowley's and Aziraphale's approach to boundaries:

Crowley alters reality around Maggie and Nina, he makes it rain, after checking with Nina how she would react to a sudden downpour. He gives them a situation which will hopefully lead to the desired behaviour, but leaves them with a choice. They can shelter under the awning or go inside or whatever. But ultimately they are given a situation and a choice.

Aziraphale on the other hand goes a little further and not only creates a situation, but makes choices for them. Yes, Nina chooses to dance as well as Crowley, but I don't think Maggie and Aziraphale felt like they had a choice here, for very different reasons (Maggie is forced, Aziraphale forces himself because he wants this so bad with Crowley). And I don't think any of them know the steps to this particular dance. We know Aziraphale can dance the Gavotte, this however is not a Gavotte I believe. Correct me if I'm wrong. Aziraphale, in order to make their plan work, forces everyone and especially Nina and Maggie to dance perfectly to steps they admittedly never learned, seriously meddling with their free will. And Nina calls him out for it while Maggie doesn't see a problem there because she got what she wanted. And this mirrors our ineffable partners' relationship so well!

I think this is not just a case of desperate measures for desperate times, it shows how much Heaven doesn't care about boundaries and free will and the right to mess up something. Aziraphale employs this method because he isn't aware of the overstepping since he hasn't broken free of the trauma and control imposed on him by Heaven. Crowley on the other hand has had centuries to work through this and acknowledge the damage done because I think he fell for basically suggesting and showing free will. He can see Heaven from the outside as the manipulating lot that they are while Aziraphale still has to accept and acknowledge the damage that was done to him by Heaven. And Crowley calls him out whenever Heaven does something so wrong and Aziraphale is about to accept it, like the flood or Job's children and goats.

[noveratus]

Ok, I have just finished listening to the new WTNV episode and based on reactions here, a lot of people are having issues and while I agree it wasn't perfect, it's not for the reasons most people are, so let me give my two cents. Spoilers below

Alright, so let's start with the elephant in the room: People are upset that apparently nightvale is affirming that all abuse is cyclical and you cannot escape from it. That's literally not true, if anything, it's quite the opposite. What the Palmer lore has told us is that, yes, abuse cycles can be broken, you can always become a better person than your parents *however* it does require someone to make an attempt, to realize their own flaws and start working on them. You can only be better if you want to be better, which is the key difference in Kevin and Cecil in their respective arcs. Cecil wants to be there for his children, to his family, he wants to love them unconditionally and give them a better life than his father and mother ever gave him, and his relationship with his sister and in law and how much it has grown, even if he doesn't have the memories of their talks, is the best example of that. He is growing.

Meanwhile, we have Kevin who is someone who refuses to see his issues, who refuses to admit his flaws and uses religion and the idea of a perfect city as an excuse to hide the trauma he has endured. I know want him to be ok, to realize his wrong doings and be ok because people like Kevin but that just isn't how his character works. He is a tragic character. There is no way to put it. He is his own father, his own creator and his own greatest enemy as the boy wanted Kevin to be killed, possibly so he wouldn't end up like him, but ultimately he failed to realize what and how he would break the cycle. Its not through violence, its not through power and he didn't want to see that. He is a tragic character. I know people wanted a happy ending, but it's just not the character's point. He wasn't poorly written either or our of character. In fact, Kevin remains one of the most well written characters in the show.

No. My issue with this episode comes in the form of Tamika and Mother Lauren because I think that Mother Lauren was a genuinely interesting antagonist, however, she was done dirty by being so tied to Kevin. Despite the fact her actions affected all of Nightvale, all of her story was essentially solved by just Kevin and I don't know why the writers didn't just focus on that? Like, instead of having she fuck with the whole city, imagine if she just took young Kevin offering him the power to become stronger than his double while Cecil and Tamika tried their best to get him back, but he didn't want to. It ultimately ends with him trying to escape, getting absorbed and only being capable of being rescued by adult Kevin who takes him to be raised. Hell, maybe you can have Lauren's power to start reaching the other citizens, but she ends up feeling so powerful that it just falls flat. She is so powerful that she doesn't even have a goal anymore she just exists and a character without a goal isn't a character, it is just an obstacle. Compared that with the last arc with the university of everything that was genuinely terrifying, not because they held absolute power, but because the power they did hold affected the characters in a way that truly threatened them and changed their way of life.

Worst of all though, is Tamika. I don't know what the show is trying to do with her character anymore. Time and time again, she is shown that just diplomacy and talking without any actions doesn't solve any conflict. I thought that they were trying get her to be somewhere in the middle, someone who while doesn't enjoy violence, isn't passive as she has been lately. Someone who takes actions, pacifist actions, sure, but actions nonetheless but time and time again they just keep using her as this passive moral ground that is technically in the right, but never actually does anything about it and seeing what what she used to be, it just sucks, but hey, I still have hope. Maybe this is the point, maybe they are building her up and we will finally get to see Tamika grow to be, not extremes of violence and pacifism, but somewhere in the middle.

Mother Lauren though, I have no hopes for. After this ending, even if she does come back, she will be relocated as just a joke, a punchline for the arcs related to Kevin and the DOW that we might get in the future. That being said, I think it would be interested to see more residents of the other world as antagonis, like Charles for example using the intellect Carlos often uses against nightvale instead of in favor of it.

Also, I've seen some people complaining about this as well, so I will briefly tounch on it, no, Carlos didn't do much this arc, but I'm fine with that as the previous arc was essentially his arc and in character I can see his actions as being due to pressure and trying to get used to his new job as he has a much important role than before so he can't just fix all of Nightvale's problems anymore. I would like to hear more about his research and such, c'mon Cecil, you are lacking there, brag more about your husband pleaaaaaase.

All and all, I liked this arc, but I do agree that the ending fell flat in the sense that they misunderstood what should be focused on. You don't need to have an eldritch horror take over the city to have a worthy finale. You can have just a boy and a beloved character being taken away and get so close to a good ending only to end up being doomed by his own actions. Nightvale is not great because of the eldritch horrors, the aliens, and the magic. It is great because of the characters that were able to grow thanks to this environment and sometimes just focusing on these characters is enough.

[granulesofsand]

Do you have any tips for deprogramming, specifically fighting against silencing programs? We’ve reached a weird part where it seems like it’s impossible to continue and we can’t see a way forward with how to fight against the physical silencing that’s happening.

🗝️🏷️ RAMCOA, programming and deprogramming

It depends on how urgently you need to get around it. Undoing the silence is different than squeezing past it, and both have their place in the process.

We often spend some time decompressing, abiding by the silence. This lets the one(s) who enforce the program calm down a bit, get out of the hyperarousal state that keeps them activating it.

When they’re less jumpy, we can ask what happened to turn on the silence. Usually it’s something we did, internally getting too close to blocked memories or externally disclosing information the system wasn’t ready to. Sometimes it’s environmental, someone inside getting triggered by similarities to trauma time or current contact by abusers.

Once you know how the silence was brought on, you can negotiate with enforcers to turn it down or off. Let them know about your external life, how it’s become safer with distance or deprogramming. Talk about your values, and why this program doesn’t align with those values. Encourage them to take part in daily living, eventually giving them the option to breakaway from rules they were given.

If it’s taking too long — because you’re in danger or have reason to disclose right now, not because cooperation is difficult — ask them whether you could write instead, or draw, or talk to someone outside you can demonstrate is safe.

They’re likely to be fearful, and their fear may be mixed with anger or shame or dependence. They might not want to communicate at first, and it’s up to you to show up anyway. Present stability, acceptance, and care. It’s okay if you have other emotions, too, but you should process those away from them; it’s like external children, they’re dependent on you now, not the other way around.

Some of them might be able to build reciprocity, but others are likely developmentally young and/or heavily traumatized. They need support before they can give it.

You might all be at a similar stage of needing more than you can give. If that’s true, different insiders can take turns giving and receiving. You can make it circular — leaving out the ones who can’t give at all — where each of you tends to someone and has someone to tend to you.

We like to do the support circles with our subgroups first, then have groups arrange themselves into support circles.

There might be a few insiders who can take on more caregiving, and they might be partnered with others who can’t do any caregiving. Both ends of the partnerships should try to fit into circles to some extent, and the circles should gain nodes and connections to resemble more of a support network than just two lines of communication for everyone.

Building those support networks allows for more relationships in the system, and those receiving support will begin to branch out with time. They’re simultaneously getting care and learning to interact healthily with other system members, and those two things facilitate deprogramming better than any intervention we’ve tried. Changing programmed behavior comes naturally once you have internal community.

You also mentioned physicality, which might mean you have to work through the memories that manifest symptoms in your body. Memory work is about the last stage of deprogramming (with resolution as the true finale), and insiders changing behaviors can stop the somatic symptoms.

If insiders agree to make a program stop, you might have to put away memories before you can process them. We use boxes to assemble memories and books to store them, and you might already have an archive of sorts where programs are stored. You can use any method that works for you, but with the understanding that the memories will have to be processed eventually.

Memories that sit too long might leak, and memories with missing pieces often resurface as flashbacks while your brain tries to integrate them into storage.

Completing the whole task takes time. Start with giving space and inquiring about cause, then move to negotiation. Once the silence is less of a problem, you can figure out why the program exists and work through the training memories. Either way, you’ll get there, and you should celebrate every step of the way.

[greazyfloz]

Bend Til We Break - Chapter 18

previous chapters

[POV Quinn]

“Mr.Hughes” I hear as someone stand in front of me, I open my eyes slowly realizing it is a nurse. My eyes shoot open and I sit up straight. She gives me a soft smile and it gives me hope. “I’m Grace, I was Dr. Leland’s operating assistant, I’m here to give an update as Dr.Leland finishes up the c-section” she tells me and I nod waiting for her to continue, “your son and daughter were born. Your son was born first at 11:56pm and your Daughter was born at 11:59pm, both Valentine babies. Dr.Leland and our team scrubbed in at around 9:15 when we left you but Ms.Y/l/n’s injuries were more severe than initially introduced to use so we had to wait for Dr. Gregory to stabilize her to allow us to perform a c-section to allow less trauma for her and the babies”. 

“I-is she going to be okay?” I ask scared for the response

“I cannot speak on the behalf of Dr. Gregory at this moment but I can inform you that the reason we were not able to start the c-section until 11pm was because they had lost a pulse before we scrubbed in” she says and my head dropped to the floor. “I can give you any update on your children though”

“Are they healthy? I know that they are going to be here for a while but how are they looking?” 

“Your son is looking healthy from the impact the womb had just taken, his tests all came back looking quite well for his state and will be transported up to the NICU momentarily. Your daughter is still being monitored as she received less oxygen from her mother, causing some brain and heart issues. It is likely we will need to operate, but as of now, she will need to be monitored in a secluded room with 2 nurses. You will be able to see your son as soon as he gets to the NICU but your daughter may need a bit more time. If surgery is required for her, do we have the go ahead? The quicker we can get to her the better”

“Of course” I say, still not looking up, “Where do I sign?” 

“I’ll tell Pamela to bring you the papers” she says “Do you have any questions?”

“N-no not right now” I say finally looking up and running my hand through my hair and checking the time, 12:54. I signed the papers from the receptionist and call Brock not even caring for the time, he answers almost immediately, “Hey, Hughesy”

“Can you and Bella come to Van Gen?” i ask

“She’s having the baby? Isn't it a little early?” he asks me with a little excitement and confusion in his voice I don’t answer as I feel my eyes fill with tears. I try not to sniffle into the phone but fail, “Oh no, Is everyone okay?”

“Y/n- She- No, she’s not” I say as the tears fell

“We’re on our way!” He says hanging up. 

They got here around 20 minutes later. I stand and make my way over hugging them both before we go and sit down. I explained the whole night and all of the information I had gotten so far to them. I had to look away from Bella as she began to cry. 

“Hey bud, she’s strong. Dealing with your shit proves it” Brock says jokingly yet serious

“Don’t say that” Bella says, swatting Brock’s arm, “So did you have to name them or, how is that working?”

“They didn’t ask” I say and we begin chatting 

Around 5:24am, Brock and Bella both fell asleep in the seats in front of me while I waited. A man in scrubs approached me. “Quintin Hughes?” he asks and I nod standing “Yes, I’m Quinn” I say back

“Hi, I’m Dr. Gregory. I was the surgeon leading your girlfriend?” he questions before continuing

“Yes” I say with no hesitation

“I was the surgeon leading your girlfriend's surgery. Grace had already informed me that she had informed you of losing her pulse earlier tonight, so I am here to give a greater detail of her condition and injuries” he starts and I take a breath, “After Dr. Leland had closed her up from her c-section, the trauma was much too significant for her body and she went under cardiac arrest. We were able to immediately operate. We lost her pulse once more for 15 seconds, but were able to successfully revive her. She is now resting in the ICU, but the surgery caused major trauma throughout her body as she faced a broken clavicle, nose, and a slight brain bleed, then birth. Her surgery was successful though but there won't be a speedy recovery as she was put into an induced coma” 

“Oh wow” 

“She is in room 235 B, the room was turned private for her and your family’s convenience” he says. I thank him before making my way up to her room. I wake Bella and Brock and let them know what is going on and we make our way up. Because she was in a private room, she did not have the same visiting hours as others so all of us were aloud in. As we approach the room Grace, the doctor’s surgery assistant for the kids, was waiting at the door. 

“Go in, I’ll be right in” I say to Brock and Bella as we get to the outside of Y/n’s door. 

“Hi Quinn, I’m sorry but your daughter was just sent back to be operated on, I came to let you know since consent was already given that the surgery has already started. We did catch her heart slowly down fairly quickly”

“Thank you” I say and she nods

“Your son has been transported to the NICU, if you would like to go see him” she says smiling before leaving to assist in my daughter’s surgery.

I walked into the room and Brock stands up giving me a hug. “She’s in surgery” I say and Bella stands from beside Y/n and makes her way over to me giving me a hug. “My son is in the NICU right now” I say after pulling away from the hug

“Go see him, we are here with y/n and if anyone comes with news we will tell them where you are” Bella says. 

When I got to the NICU, I had to look down at my son in a sealed cradle. He is so small. I can’t even tell if he is more me or more y/n he is so small. I sit in the room with it for a bit until the nurse says she has to do some tests on him. I tell her I will be back in a bit as I make my way back down to Y/n.

I walk in the room and both Brock and Bella stand, we are going to head out now, but : “your mother was actually just here. She got the last red eye out of Detroit” Bella informs me

“We are going to head out now” Brock says, “I’ll tell em where you are today, don’t worry about it” he says referring to morning skate. They leave the room and my mother walks in handing me a coffee and giving me a hug. 

“What time is it?” I ask her

“Almost nine, how are they?”

“He is in the NICU, and she is in surgery” I say starting to tear up but my mother brings my in for another hug as someone knocks on the door. Y/n’s parents walk in with Grace behind them. Grace asks us all to take a seat. 

“Grandparents?” she asks looking at my mother and Y/n’s parents and they all nod. “Okay, so Quinn, you’re daughter’s surgery was successful, I came right from her operating room so this is the most up to date news, she is headed to a private area in the NICU. We were able to put her brother in the same room since he is also in a sealed oxygen vented cradle” she says and gives us more information about her condition and what is next for her. 

After she leaves, my mother suggests I go home and sleep. And I nod. I make my way to the car and drive but not to my place. I go back to Y/n’s. The nursery still isn’t ready. I make my way inside and start building the other crib that was giving Y/n a hard time along with the rocking chair and painting what needed painted. 

Between then and the next week, I was between Y/n’s and the hospital. A week later my son, showed significant process and I got news that it was possible that both kids may be able to leave before March. Y/n however still asleep. It was 12 days after the accident when Y/n and I finally were alone in the room she was resting in. The nurse that was checking up on her looked down at me and said, “have you talked to her yet, sometimes even if you don’t think she can hear you it helps.” before leaving the room.

I take her hand and plant a kiss, before looking up at her sleeping figure,

 “You did it baby. We have two beautiful kids. Our boy is so easy. I already know he is going to cause us no trouble. They told me today that he could come down and share a room with you very soon, but you have to open your eyes. And our girl, she is so strong. Surgery on her very first day on this earth, maybe she will be our handful always given dad a heart attack. she took in like a champ though! She is getting stronger and stronger everyday. She is strong like her mom. Fuck I hope they are both like their mom. For her sake. You have to open your eyes so you can meet them. 12 days without you is way too long” I began but I start to cry, I reach into my pocket and slide the ring I bought her on her finger. “I’m giving this to you now just inca- no, I’m giving this as a promise to always be there for you. I bought this for you the day after you moved in. I wasn’t planning on promising to you anytime soon then but I knew it would happen. And there was so many times that I was going to but I knew it had to be special. I’m giving it to you now for the same reason that I kept it for this long, hope. When it comes to you, I’m never ever going to lose it. Just please, please wake up” I say as I lay my head on the bed beside her. 

I lay my head there looking down at the ground. I feel her hand wiggle a bit and I look up at her, she still has her eyes closed but her lips move and words finally escape her mouth, “Quinn”

[nerdyvocals]

Remember like....oh god four months ago??? When @look-at-those-niceass-rocks and I had some unhinged things to say about Julie and the Phantoms? Well, our schedules finally lined up again and we have more unhinged things to say! Once again nearly a week after we watched!!! We made it through 4-7, please enjoy

Bee: Y'know, when he (Trevor) said "meditate", I expected him to get tweaked out of his fucking gourd Me: ...Ah, first thing for the quotes list Bee: He looks like he doesn't vaccinate his children

*two minutes of haunting later* Bee: No I've changed my mind; he has to be high, he's not reacting correctly to that

We both commented on how Savannah Lee May (Carrie) looked simultaneously fourteen and thirty, but was 20 when the show released (around 19 during filming)

Me: How does it feel knowing she's a year older than me? Bee: *forcibly remembering we have an age gap friendship* I love it soooooooo much

Caleb: where do we go when that final light is snuffed out? Bee: Hell, I hope

Caleb: If you'll forgive me fellas, I gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I'm saying Bee: if he wasn't dead, I'd assume he meant cocaine Me: I mean it could still be cocaine Bee: ...ghost cocaine

Bee: homosexual ghost makes a valid point

Me: I love how women weren't working so he (Caleb) sent men to Alex Bee: I know what you are! Me: He's an equal opportunity cult leader!

Julie: *Lecturing the boys on letting her down* Me: No she's right Bee: Yeah, let her cook! Me: *dead silence* Bee: That's. That is what the kids say? Me: Sometimes I forget about our age gap, and sometimes I become painfully aware of it Bee: I'M DOING MY BEST OKAY

(after deciding to stop for the night after episode seven) Me: That'll give us a good stopping point, because the last two episode Hurt Bee: Oh good, emotional trauma!

(about Ray Molina) Bee: Look at his forearms, he's a slut! Me: I mean, yeah! Also, I blame you fully for this newfound type of mine (muffled voice in the background) Bee: [Husband] just yelled from the other room asking if I was alright

Willie: *gets caught spying in the garage* Bee: That wasn't even sneaky! That was his whole-ass head! With a helmet! Me: Not the ass head Bee: Motherfucker Me: Weird way to say butt face Bee: ...ass butt

Me: Flynn is really pushing this corpse thing Bee: I wish I could remember my little corpse song

(following "Girls, amiright?" "No!") Bee: He a little confused, but he got the spirit Me: He is a spirit! Bee: Fuck you Me: :(

Me: That was his (Jeremy Shada's) actual reaction, because that little kissy thing was unscripted Bee: Oh I believe that, I just watched all thoughts leave his brain

(honorable mention: rewatching that scene at least three times to laugh at Reggie's face)

Luke: (singing) It's never straight-

Us, simultaneously: Me neither

You can find part three here!