#experiencing acute silly hours

[inseparabiles]

a quick fix to this scene.

[patronsaintofelsewhere]

Thoughts on Angel Crowley & Healing from Trauma

(Minor Good Omens S2 Spoilers)

As someone who’s endured my own Trauma and dealt with the resulting PTSD, watching Crowley’s journey from a joyful, silly, and entirely innocent angel to a withdrawn, lonely, hyper-vigilant demon as a result of the Fall both shattered my heart and confronted me with the fact of myself, and I’d like to talk about it. 

When you* experience Trauma, you experience an existential disorientation and a profound sense of grief over the world you thought you knew–one where you were safe and nothing bad had ever happened to you. “Innocence died screaming,” and all that.

You're also therefore mourning the loss of who you were, and struggling to make sense of who you are now. Which is why this conversation is so gut-wrenching:

“I know you.” “You do not know me.” “I knew the angel you were.” “The angel you knew is not me.” 

This dialogue admittedly still makes my eyes swim. It’s reminiscent of the many conversations I’ve had with people close to me who knew me Before and After. Not only are you grieving the loss of your own innocence, so are those around you, and it feels like you’re wearing their loved one’s face like a mask.

And then underneath the grief, there’s a river of–what you’ll later discover is misplaced–guilt. They want you to be who you were. Fuck, you also want to be who you were -- to not have experienced what you did -- but you can’t.

And when they catch a glimpse of something that reminds them of Before-You -- because it's not like that you has just up and vanished, you've just changed -- they say things like, “I feel like I have you back!” Like the After-You is a consolation prize, something to be tolerated while they wait for the Before-You to return.

It’s not malicious. They love you. They want you to be happy. But it just serves as a reminder of your loss and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how alone you are with the Thing that hurt you.

After trauma, you’re lonely and you're afraid. But those emotions make you feel quite naked, because both of those things would require you to depend on other people to feel better and, at this point, the thought of doing that is far too scary, so to the world, you’re angry. Thus begins the cyclical self-fulfilling prophecy.

And that cycle goes a bit like this: People see the mistrust and the bitterness and the volatility (the shield that keeps people at an arm's length and helps you feel safe). They don't see the profound sustained fear underneath, the desperate need to feel seen and accepted. And so people pull away.

And that real or perceived abandonment feeds the monster that’s taken up permanent residence in your ribcage and screams at all hours that you’re not worthy of love, that you’re irreparably broken, and you’ll always be alone. And you pull away from the people that love you. And the cycle repeats. And you start to believe all of the bad things about yourself that the monster tells you.

Being confronted with a character who you adore and who you also relate to closely is bittersweet in that it’s both immensely painful, but also offers you an opportunity to interrupt that cycle, to explore a different -- perhaps more forgiving -- lens through which to view yourself. To practice self-compassion by proxy, if you will. After all, we tend to extend far greater empathy and forgiveness to others than we do to ourselves.

Angel Crowley, "who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty,” (joycrispy) reminded me a lot of “Angel T,” or rather myself before Trauma.

And Crowley's story is tragic. I was heartbroken and angry for him; I felt the depth of the betrayal he experienced at the hands of someone he loved who he'd believed loved him; I found myself wanting to protect him, to comfort him. Crowley did not deserve what happened to him.

And, over a decade later, I realized that I’d finally accepted that I’d been an innocent, just like Crowley had, and I didn't deserve what happened to me, either.

And -- if you find yourself relating to this post -- neither did you.

Once we can tell ourselves that and actually believe it, we can start to lower the shield. We can allow people closer, including ourselves. We can bring the parts of ourselves we may have hidden away back to the surface. We can soften again. We can truly start to heal.

Crowley, at his core, remains the same. He is still kind, deeply loving, playful, silly, and – against all odds – hopeful. But his trauma has changed him; his innocence is gone.

He struggles to trust others; fears abandonment; engages in unhealthy coping mechanisms; finds it easier to prioritize and tend to Aziraphale's needs and desires than his own; and has difficulty expressing his emotions.

But he also gained an abundance of empathy, a deep love for humanity, and a strong sense of justice.

We adore Crowley exactly as he is now; we don't wish for him to be who he was before the Fall. And neither does Aziraphale.

In kind, we won’t be who we were — nor should we try to be — but we can be something new, a different version of ourselves that is equally good, equally worthy, and equally deserving of love. 

After over a decade, I think my Trauma wound has mostly healed, as much as Trauma wounds can, anyway; it’s a dull ache rather than an acute pain. Yet Crowley's story assuaged that remaining hurt like a salve I hadn’t realized I needed.

So thank you to @neil-gaiman for giving us such a beautiful story, and to David Tennant, Michael Sheen, and the rest of the cast and crew who bring the characters we love to life on screen.

Good Omens truly is a gift. May it continue to inspire us to offer kindness and love to ourselves and one another. 🖤

* I am aware that I say “you” when I should use the singular first-person “I,” but I still struggle with this when talking about my own trauma. So I’m using “you” and you, reader, will deal with it x

[taromilksnake]

8:19am 陰天, clarity

his favorite kind of weather outside

slept pretty well, meowu come in my face, she did her usual under cover, rotate, pillow cuddle even with the cone on, which is really cute. some trouble falling asleep but slept deeply and dreamlessly. woke up and immediately fantasized about having anthony over and fucking tearing his clothes off and cuddling and having him fuck me. part of that is also just the fantasy of cohabiting in general

good news is that my period seems to be tapering off. the wrist braces at night seems to help a lot too, and meowu is slowly but surely healing up her nose in her cone (our “coquette little lamp”).

learned a lot about myself last night. sherry came over to hangout and do work, went out to dinner with julia and sherry up north. relaxed by the end of the night, but the mood was a lil quiet, and lil weird in hindsight. conflict of interests/needs (me being alone and lonely for several days, julia and sherry needing social recovery/down time after grandma visit fucked them over and got them sick for several days). basically just unfortunate timing, but it hit a nerve when julia was triggered by me stopping by as a surprise (i felt like mom a bit too), and it hit a nerve even when sherry was sympathetic and telling me that unintentionally it felt that i was “disrespectful” of their down time by wanting to be more “on” or hang out. same “issue” as the phone conversation with anthony actually, in that he wanted our time to be more chill and i wanted attention and engagement. bad timing indeed, as anthony also needs his time to get his life in order (and catch up on sleep by the sounds of it), so i really have been emotionally alone, at least in bouts and hours at a time. it was nice for sherry to reiterate that they haven’t been “emotionally available” to me, and that we will reconvene and debrief once they’ve rested up and we’re all in a better headspace. hearing from sherry, it’s gave me clarity that it’s felt extra lonely, since sherry and julia are on the same page, having experienced similar exhaustion and frustration.

the theme really is just my need for attention. remember suddenly that anthony told me i “can just ask” for cuddling or attention after my first Magic breakdown, and the silly meme that says “if you feel needy, then take.” we had a fun conversation about the signs too, and julia’s assessment for leo’s (shared by her friend) was dead on — pretends to be aloof, but secretly craves attention and is not beneath lying and manipulation to get it. at the same time, is deeply loyal (and regal, like a lion), and will “put the spotlight on others.” attention from leo’s feels truly special (maybe because they appreciate it so much themselves. i hope that’s true. i hope that my presence is appreciated, wanted. i’m remembering the other piece of sherrys conversation, that julia and sherry do want to know what’s been happening in my life, that dating anthony is a big change and they do care and want to know. that it’s just bad timing. i hope i didn’t misspeak when i said sherry and mikey seemed like they were “going thru a rough patch” some affirmations: grandma wants me around, anthony wants me around, meowu wants me around, sherry wants me around, julia wants me around, mom wants me around, gavriela does, lito and teresa does, cassandra does too. lots of people consider me a part of the periphery of their life, if nothing else.

i’ve (re)learned a lot about myself having (forcibly lol) spent so much time by myself, and getting to talk to sherry after being honest about hesitations on talking about anthony. that even with people closest to me, i still need to be brave and speak up about my desires, however awkwardly or poorly received. how acute my sense of rejection is when threads of my conversation is glossed over, and that it’s important to pick them back up anyway, social norms be damned. if you’re needy then take. that my deepest fear and insecurity ultimately is to be unwanted, to be rejected at my most vulnerable.

lots of complete today (including finishing cleanup, ideally), but let me take today one moment at a time and do my best to enjoy every moment, like a time being, like it’s the second try, like ms harts advice. it’s going to be ok, and you’re going to have a blast 💞

[fantastic-nonsense]

I genuinely think the most of the differences between the Pevensies in the books vs. the movies can be explained by one simple fact: the Movie!Pevensies are fully cognizant of and emotionally attached to their experiences in Narnia after returning to England, while the Book!Pevensies have a notable emotional distance to their memories of Narnia

It's an explicit plot point in the books that the longer you stay in one world, the easier it becomes to forget about the other one (or think of it as a dream). Additionally, while the Pevensies do remember what happened and are permanently changed by their experiences in Narnia, they seemingly forget a lot of their Narnian-learnt knowledge and skills. This gets briefly mentioned in Prince Caspian, when Lucy talks about swimming:

When they had drunk from the well and splashed their faces, they all went down the stream again to the shore and stared at the channel which divided them from the mainland. “We’ll have to swim,” said Edmund.

“It would be all right for Su,” said Peter (Susan had won prizes for swimming at school). “But I don’t know about the rest of us.” By “the rest of us” he really meant Edmund, who couldn’t yet do two lengths at the school baths, and Lucy, who could hardly swim at all.

“Anyway,” said Susan, “there may be currents. Father says it’s never wise to bathe in a place you don’t know.”

“But, Peter,” said Lucy, “look here. I know I can’t swim for nuts at home—in England, I mean. But couldn’t we all swim long ago—if it was long ago—when we were Kings and Queens in Narnia? We could ride then too, and do all sorts of things. Don’t you think—”

“Ah, but we were sort of grown-up then,” said Peter. “We reigned for years and years and learned to do things. Aren’t we just back at our proper ages again now?” -PC, Chapter 3

So she learned how to swim while growing up in Narnia, but forgot it again when she returned to her own world and was back at her proper age. But the longer the Pevensies stayed in Narnia, the more those previously-learned skills came back to them:

This was real broad-sword fighting. The great thing is to slash at your enemy’s legs and feet because they are the part that have no armor. And when he slashes at yours you jump with both feet off the ground so that his blow goes under them. This gave the Dwarf an advantage because Edmund, being much taller, had to be always stooping.

I don’t think Edmund would have had a chance if he had fought Trumpkin twenty-four hours earlier. But the air of Narnia had been working upon him ever since they arrived on the island, and all his old battles came back to him, and his arms and fingers remembered their old skill. He was King Edmund once more. -PC, Chapter 8

The same general principle appears to apply to their memories and the emotions attached to them (which I think is one of the main reasons why Book!Susan is so easily able to dismiss Narnia as a "silly children's game" when she gets older). Narnia's magic protects visitors from feeling the pain and suffering associated with being de-aged/losing their home/etc when they leave Narnia by forcing a mental and emotional distance from their experiences, and they're only able to re-forge those connections once they return.

By contrast, the Movie!Pevensies are acutely and painfully aware of what they've lost by returning to England, and it dramatically alters the equation for everyone involved.

It turns the level-headed, loving, tired Books!Peter into the angst-ridden, hotheaded Movie!Peter who's constantly trying to prove himself. It turns Susan's story inside out, because it gives her entirely different reasons and motivations for possibly wanting to forget about Narnia and dismiss it as a "silly game." It gives Edmund a narrative reason to retain the massive character growth he'd experienced in LWW, act as the steadying rock in the siblings' lives, and feel like he has something to prove in VDT without Peter around.

And while I think Lucy remains the least changed between the books and movies, there are several added dimensions to her fully remembering her first fifteen years in Narnia that really start to peek their heads out by the time we get to VDT (particularly her desire to feel grown up and desired by the men around her; if she's truly feeling her age, I think there's an additional nuance to that plot that goes beyond the vanity and "she wants to be like Susan" dimensions from the book).

Do I think this accounts for all of the characterization differences? No. But I think it's a massively understated difference that doesn't get talked about enough as being a major driver of how differently the Pevensies act and react to things in the later books vs. how they act and react in the movies.

[dustbinflower0]

I'm not ready for spring, for fake cheerful floral and forced re-emerging from the hibernation of indoor days. Summer is wonderful but spring makes me sad and tired. Statistically, I was told when volunteering on a suicide hotline, the highest amounts of suicide happen in spring. Maybe there's just too much dissonance when you're feeling lost and like hiding, and everyone is out rising bicycles and pushing carriages, and smelling the flowers, I don't fucking know.

I've spent the winter mostly in a room in a hospital for my chance at survival. Survival comes before living but all of this feels like a death.

"A transformation?" Asked Dr. V, when parts of me still came back from thr annihilation I experienced.

I said yes, into what I don't know, into something better, I'm not sure.

Right now I feel stalled in the nightmare. I know the work is ongoing outside, here was to come back a bit from the dead. But silly me, I co found myself in the darkest moments imagining myself going "through " the dark tunnel and emerging into what I thought would be this definitive "After."

I'm a little crushed, even though I always know it doesn't work like that. True growth doesn't happen that way. I am not stronger physically but I am stronger in other ways. I have endured impossible things.

This is not in action, in any way a "short term" unit. There are people doing much less staying much longer. I have been told by staff that I am the most acute patient here. That does t mean anything to me except in the way that like tonight I feel like dying and college kid patient to are all laughing and ordering takeout and ha I g a great time. Good for them and all, but there's a lonely stark difference to the trying to hold together the pieces I am in.

And I have not cut myself since late Octorber/early November! If you know me or have followed me for many years, that is absolutely unreal. No one believed it possible. I never saw myself here, able to enact control. Able to use words even somewhat.

Tomorrow is my 4 hour pass home for thr first time since I left, January 27th, and I'm nervous as hell but also excited. I have worked for this.

[retrievablememories]

nepenthe | winwin

title: nepenthe pairing: winwin x black!reader genre: hurt/comfort, fluff request: “Winwin stays with his girlfriend over night while she is sick and takes care of her. This is a major turning point in their relationship because the gf thought that there was a strain in their relationship but him doing this unannounced makes her realize he really cares about her. Black oc? Thank you!” word count: 2.7k warnings: mentions of being sick, relationship troubles, some cursing a/n: nepenthe (n.) — “anything inducing a pleasurable sensation of forgetfulness, especially of sorrow or trouble.”

➠ a part of the nct 127 sleepover series

It’s been awhile since you’ve been able to hang out with Sicheng without your many responsibilities pulling you both in different directions. Therefore, you leapt at the invitation to visit him at the dorm while you both had a window of free time. Getting these kinds of opportunities was not frequent between your college tasks and his work, and you both always tried to plan things well in advance if it was possible.

However, in the few days before you’re supposed to go over to the dorm, a strange itch begins in your throat, and your head feels fuzzy and warm in a bad way. Thinking the worst, you try to get ahead of it by taking medicine and getting more rest, but it’s just a little too late; you’re sick with a cold. You’re naturally upset about it, but you’re even more disappointed because it means you can’t visit Sicheng anymore—not unless you want to get him and everyone else sick.

Either way, you don’t think you could drive to his dorm even if you wanted to attempt it, considering you’ve only been able to get up to use the bathroom and eat whatever snacks or medicine you have around. Every part of your body feels weaker, although this might also be because you haven’t had energy to cook an actual meal.

You don’t want to break the news to him, but the date is creeping closer and it’s better to tell him now than have him be unpleasantly surprised when the day comes and you never show up. So, you sit up in bed as comfortably as you can and call his number, tugging the sheets around you and staring into space unhappily as the phone rings.

“Y/N?��

“Sicheng…”

“Hi Y/N,” one of the other boys says from the background, and you think it might be Yangyang.

“Hi Yang,” you respond, but your voice comes out a bit broken as you cough at the end.

“What’s wrong?” Sicheng asks, and it sounds like he’s walking away—maybe going into another room to talk to you privately.

“I’m really sorry Sicheng, but I can’t come over this week...I’m sick and I feel like pure shit.”

“You’re sick?” Sicheng asks, and he sounds both annoyed and concerned. “Like, you’re really sick?”

“Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you ask, irritated by the seemingly silly question.

“Y/N, I was just making sure—it’s not like this is the first time you’ve canceled our plans over one reason or another.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, though it comes out a bit ragged. “Excuse me for getting sick, then. It’s not like I could help it, and every time I canceled I had a valid reason. It’s not like I don’t want to see you.”

“I get it, I get it. I didn’t even suggest that Y/N.”

“But you always sound like you’re upset with me every time it happens.”

“Well, yeah. Do you expect me to be happy about not being able to see my girlfriend?” Now he sounds as irritated as you are.

“That’s not even what I’m talking about and you know it.” You want to say more, but you are already tired and the last thing you want to spend your energy on is arguing.

“Look, I don’t know why—”

“Sicheng, I’m really tired. We can just talk about this later, okay? I’m sorry I can’t come. Goodbye.” You don’t wait for a response before ending the call, and you feel a little bad about it, but you don’t feel like dwelling on any of this at the moment.

You sink further down into the nest of pillows you’ve propped up against your headboard and resign yourself to another long and arduous night of trying to fight your sickness. A few tears drop from your eyes, though you try not to cry too much; that would only make your nose even more stuffed up. Eventually, you fall into a restless and light sleep before you even realize it.

However, you’re frightened awake a half hour later—or maybe it’s an hour later, you’re not totally sure—when your phone rings from underneath one of your many pillows.

It’s Sicheng again. Your stomach drops a bit. Maybe he’s more pissed about you hanging up than you thought he’d be, and he’s calling again to say he’s finally had enough of you flaking on him. Which might be a ridiculous conclusion to jump to in any other relationship, but… “Hello?” you ask, your voice now doubly rough from sleep.

“I hate to ask this of you, but can you let me in? I don’t have a key or anything so…”

You pause for a long moment, then sit up in bed, though it takes an effort. Your head is still hot, and you think you might be having a fever dream or haven’t heard him right. “Let you in?”

“I’m outside,” he confirms.

“Outside…” you repeat. Maybe you shouldn’t be this surprised about your boyfriend coming over to your place, but he gave no indication he was coming over. Or that he was even thrilled about dealing with you in these past few months. Plus, it’s snowing pretty steadily outside and will likely get heavier in the next few hours; not many people would want to travel in that weather.

You get up from the bed and go to the front door. As he said, Sicheng is standing there with two bags on each arm. You shuffle to the side to let him in the door, still feeling surprised but mostly dizzy and feverish. “I didn't know you were coming,” you say absentmindedly.

“You hung up before I could say so,” he says. His tone is light, as though he doesn’t want to make a big deal of it, but you can tell he isn’t super pleased about it.

You shift on your feet a bit awkwardly. “Ah yeah….sorry about that…” You follow Sicheng into your kitchen to watch him set the bags on the kitchen counters, and you’re about to sit in one of the chairs until he hurries over to you and gently grasps your arm.

“You should get back in bed. Don’t worry about this stuff in here, I’ll take care of it and bring you your food.”

You raise your eyebrows, but even that facial movement is enough to make your head throb. “You brought food?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to attempt to cook…” He laughs softly as he guides you back to your bedroom and into your bed, and you’re momentarily embarrassed by how messy everything is. You haven’t had the strength or motivation to tidy anything up, and there are tissues all over the place still.

If he notices the mess, which you know he must, he doesn’t say anything about it. He only helps you back underneath the covers and even takes the initiative to throw the messy tissues in your wastebin. Again, you’re embarrassed by him touching everything like it’s not gross, and you pull the blanket up as if to hide beneath it.

“You don’t have to do all that, I can toss them out later,” you insist.

“It’s fine. You’re the patient, remember? Just let me handle it.” He smiles, and you just nod in response.

“Patient, though...you make me sound so sickly.” You want to laugh but your head hurts too much to do so, and you merely make a wounded sound instead.

“You are the patient. My patient,” Sicheng says, and comes over to lay a hand across your forehead. He makes a sad noise at how hot your skin is under his hand. You want to ask him a bunch of questions about why he came and why he’s being so concerned despite your earlier conversation, though they seem kind of ridiculous to you. He’s your boyfriend, and he’s supposed to be concerned, but for the past few months it seems like a wedge has been growing between you. And now, he’s not even as upset about you not being able to come over as he’d normally be.

Sicheng leaves your bedroom to go take care of the stuff in the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later with soup and medicine and water, and you watch from where you’re propped up on the pillows as he arranges the things on your nightstand.

“Thank you,” you say as he hands you the medicine and water to take. Sicheng watches as you as you do, and you feel strangely bashful under his gaze.

When you grab the soup, your hands are still a bit shaky, so he offers to take it for you instead. “Are you sure? I feel like I’m a baby or something.” You smirk to yourself and shake your head.

“If I don’t you’ll spill it on yourself, and I don’t think you want that.” Sicheng gives you a small smile, and your cheeks warm a little—more than they already are, anyway—when your hands brush each other’s as he takes the bowl. The feeling is almost foreign; you haven’t experienced that sensation so acutely since you did when you first started dating and everything was still new and electric.

It’s quiet for a while as he feeds you, but you’re increasingly curious about the whole situation, so you finally decide to speak.

“Do the others know you’re gone?” you ask between bites of food. “Like, I mean...I’m sure they do, but…” You’re not sure what exactly you’re trying to ask him, and your words falter for a moment.

“Yes, but I’m not really supposed to be gone right now.” He feeds you another bite, and you chew it somewhat sadly.

“Then why did you come? You could get in trouble.”

“Do you not want me here?” His smile is joking, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. That makes you feel guilty. “It doesn’t really matter...it won’t be the first or last time I get into trouble over something that really isn’t that serious.”

“No, I...want you here. I’m surprised you came, though.”

“Why?” he asks, though he looks like he already knows the answer.

“We both know things have been kind of shitty lately. Between us.” You’re wary of expanding any further and dragging up all those unpleasant memories—and ruining the small, relatively peaceful moment you’ve both created—so you let him give you another spoonful of soup to fill the silence.

Sicheng’s smile fades a bit and is replaced with a more solemn look. “You’re not wrong about that. I just...I’m sorry for making you feel like I’ve ignored your feelings. And for being too impatient with you. I want to be next to you all the time, but it’s hard to not be able to do that.”

“It’s not entirely your fault...I haven’t done a great job of keeping to our plans.” You hang your head. “College takes up so much of my time with exams and study groups and whatever, and then this happens…”

Sicheng sets the spoon down in the bowl. “But...I think that’s life. I shouldn’t get mad with you about it. Some things are just out of our control. Seriously, though, I’m really glad that you always focus on your studies. You should. Don’t let me or anything else stop you from making a life for yourself.”

Sighing quietly, you place your hand on Sicheng’s knee, wanting to hold his hand although he’s currently occupied with holding your soup. You settle for tracing your fingertip across the bone of his knee, feeling the solidity of it. It somehow makes you feel grounded. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Y/N.” He gives you a bittersweet look and carefully shifts the bowl to his right hand so he can rest his other hand on top of yours. That single gesture makes you want to never let go.

As the night wears on, you assume Sicheng will be readying himself to go back to the dorm soon. The idea of that makes you sad, but you don’t express that aloud; you don’t want to keep him any longer than he should stay. The time on your phone shows it’s almost 1 a.m., and the members will start wondering when he’ll get back if they aren’t already.

However, Sicheng already has different plans of his own.

From where he lies on the bed beside you, he watches you as you recline against the pillows, your eyes dropping a little while you both watch TV. He moves a curly strand of hair out of your face, and you startle a little at the tickle of his fingers on your skin. “Y/N. Do you want me to stay? I mean, I was already planning to...but only if you’re okay with it.”

“Is that a good idea? You could get sick. Actually, you’ve probably already caught all my germs from being here for so long...”

Sicheng shakes his head. “You’re sick. I won’t leave you alone here.”

“But you have schedules and all that, you can’t do those if you catch my cold—”

Sicheng cups your cheek. “Y/N. You can make 100 reasons why I shouldn’t be here, but that doesn’t mean I’ll leave you by yourself like this.”

You sigh and turn to face him. You press your forehead to his, think better of it for a moment, and then do it again anyway. “Okay. Please stay.” Sicheng lifts his head from yours to kiss your forehead, and the soft press of his lips makes you momentarily forget about all of your pains.

You go through your bedtime routine with Sicheng’s help, which feels incredibly nice to do after the last couple days have been spent just falling into bed and feeling super crusty about it. He puts your moisturizer on your face and ties your hair up for you in the mirror, which makes you smile at your reflection.

“Can you get me my bonnet?” you say after he finishes with your hair.

“Bonnet…?”

It’s right then when you realize he hasn’t seen you in a bonnet before. The times you’ve been to his dorm or he’s been at your place, neither of you could spend the night.

You try not to laugh at the confusion on his face. “It’s on the dresser,” you say. “It’s pink. You should recognize it as soon as you see it.”

Sicheng wanders back into your bedroom to find it, though you can almost see the question mark floating above his head. Luckily, he’s successful in his quest and comes back with the pink bonnet after a few moments. “You wear this? What does it do?”

“It protects my hair from breaking,” you tell him. “Cotton pillows are not good for my hair.”

Sicheng nods and fixes your bonnet on your head, his fingers brushing against your hot cheek as he brings his arms back down. “Protects your hair? Hm...should I be wearing one of these too? We could match.”

You burst out in laughter, for real this time, and it makes you cough right after. Sicheng rubs your chest for comfort. “I think you’ll be fine without one, Sicheng.”

Soon enough, you’re both tucked into bed, your room dark and quiet and warm. The snow is still coming down outside, and it’ll probably be high enough to build a snowman with by the time morning comes. You’ll save all that for when you get better, though.

Sicheng wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer into his body and tucking you against him as if sheer proximity could cure you of your cold. You smile softly at his actions and tuck your face into his chest, drifting into a sleep that’s more peaceful than any you’ve had in days.

Maybe it won’t cure your sickness, but it is definitely mending the sadness you’d been feeling for so long.

[newhologram]

This Health Update™ is dedicated to Keith, a grown man who for several years now has accused me of faking my illnesses in order to *check notes* "doc shop for drugs and make money on YouTube." Thanks for reminding me why it's important for me to tell my story, silly ass. 😉

4.1.21 I haven't had a follow-up yet but I did get biopsy results, so I feel like I have a pretty good idea of what caused my official Worst Flare-Up Ever. Good news: the biopsies came back fine. Nothing scary, just confirmation that this was not only an ulcerative colitis relapse, but an acute gastritis and esophagitis flare too. Inflammatory bowel disease is cute. Endoscopy showed lots of inflammation in my stomach/esophagus, but thankfully no ulcers or perforations. But, surprise! I have a hiatal hernia  (pic 6 in the scope slide), which I'd actually been suspecting for years. This is when a portion of the stomach pushes up past the diaphragm (eew!). This explains a lot of my other symptoms over the years. Luckily it's not huge or dangerous. Still painful and a hassle but nothing I need surgery for. It's probably there as a result of all of the years I've spent vomiting from these diseases. 🤷

Below this cut is my endoscopy pics, a timeline, and more thoughts

    I'm sharing this timeline in order to show just how quickly things can spiral out of control for someone with chronic illness, no matter how stable or "healthy" they may seem:

3.15: Period starts. Literal worst of my life*. My cramps are only eased by ibuprofen (worst thing for IBD), but I ONLY take it during my period, so I usually avoid anything terrible happening. But this time I had to take way more than usual because of how bad it was, and periods already cause "mini" colitis relapses because of the wacky hormones. *The CT scan later revealed an ovarian cyst on my right side, with them also noting that my right kidney tubes are kind of prominent. This may explain my rough periods and also why I've been having so many bladder/kidney issues the past few years.

3.17: Miserable, exhausted from period + colitis, I treated myself to some ramen. It didn't seem too spicy for me (and I dilute my ramen with coconut milk) but I had an instant reaction that was very out of character.

3.18: The bad flare started at 1am and from then until 10pm I had 40+ painful, bloody BM's. I knew something wasn't right. I was getting up every 20 minutes and shaking so hard from the pain. I went to the ER.

3.19: Since the docs and I thought it was just the colitis, I was prescribed steroids. I don't normally take them because I don't like how they make me feel, but since this attack was so dramatic I tried to be a good hologram and take my medicine. I should have listened to my gut (lol) and insisted on further investigation before taking anything, because--

3.19-3.28: I took the steroids every day, which instantly calmed my colon, but only made the inflammation in my stomach way. Way. Worse. Basically fried off the protective lining. Imagine you scraped your whole leg against asphalt and then kept pouring acid on it for ten days straight.

3.28: After suffering all those days and barely able to eat without intense pain and bloating, I knew something else was up and didn't want to keep waiting for my GI referral. I went back to the ER and was admitted until the evening of 3.30. The pain was so bad they were giving me morphine every 4 hours at one point. When they heard that I was on steroids with my stomach in that condition they were like OH NO.

  I've only been home a day and a half. I'm weak and tired and the pain of my poor screaming stomach is still the worst I've ever experienced in my life. I have all kinds of often debilitating chronic pain that I deal with daily from fibromyalgia, myalgic encephalomyelitis, narcolepsy, osteoarthritis, atlas subluxation/spinal pain, colitis, etc. But this takes the cake. Even with the pills they sent me home with, I'm still in too much discomfort to get much sleep. It feels like my stomach is a hard bloated rock inside of me and I can almost feel it shivering in pain. There is no comfortable position to be in, food is still very painful and the bile is excessive, like a FOUNTAIN coming up my damn throat.

I have no idea what this recovery is going to look like, especially if I'm still in this much pain and barely eating. I'm doing everything I can to support healing right now, including a very minimal mostly liquid diet (probiotics!), gut-soothing supplements, and letting myself off the hook with my content creation and projects (well I do a little bit of editing when I can >.>). Just hoping that as my stomach calms down and the lining rebuilds, I'll be able to eat and sleep normally, which will then make healing faster.

I've officially never been sicker in my life than I am right now. Always things to learn with chronic illnesses, even when I thought I was a veteran. The past year made it hard to make healthy choices 100% of the time. A lot of comfort food that wasn't good for me. I always backed off and went back to my IBD-friendly eating habits, but stress and the need to self-soothe made it harder to keep up. I was already having bloating issues before this flare, so it was all just waiting to snowball into this. I'm taking this as a chance to not only reset my gut but to reset my relationship with food and my rituals around food. I wasn't horribly unhealthy about food before, you guys have seen all my rice porridge and veggies, but I definitely had more "cheat days" than I should have in 2020.

I just... miss... food. So much. My routines are such a big part of my daily and weekly schedule. And now without mealtimes accompanying certain activities like clockwork, I feel a bit lost. I find myself so bored and realizing I would normally be enjoying one of my favorite snacks at that time of the day.

I still have some tests I want to do with my GI when I finally see them, so there is a possibility of there being more to the story (usually is with chronic illness). But for now, I have a plan. Just gotta try my best and REST.

Thanks for the messages, holograms! My healing is supported by your love. Please learn from my story and take care of yourselves too. Start sipping on miso soup daily. No, seriously. Gut magic.

[hajimes-erect-ahoge]

Postmortem- Chapter 19

The boys and girls go for a fun trip!

ao3

Ouma tossed and turned restlessly in bed, finding himself unable to fall back asleep after his body decided to rudely awaken him for no good reason at all. Insomnia had always been rather common for him during the killing game, and waking up from the simulation did nothing to alleviate this problem. At the very least, not being able to sleep meant that he would be able to avoid whatever nightmares his mind had maliciously decided to subject him to. But after having experienced night after night of fitful slumbers, Ouma’s sleep deprived mind had betrayed him and craved nothing more than a few hours of peaceful shut-eye.

Taking note of how it was half past four in the morning, Ouma belatedly wondered if it was even worth it to try and get any more sleep. Soon enough, alarms would be ringing throughout the entire apartment complex, signaling the start of the day long before the sun had even risen.

The girls had apparently set up a whole entire camping trip for themselves, even going so far as to contact Team Danganronpa for transportation and such. Last night, Tojo had so graciously decided to inform the boys of said trip, asking if they wanted to tag along. Having nothing better to do and nowhere else to go, they accepted, not knowing that it would require them being ready to go this early. But despite the obvious inconvenience to their sleeping schedules, the boys did as they were told, preparing to wake up bright and early.

Not only was Ouma not a fan of waking up so early, but he was not necessarily too fond of the outdoors either. After the “insect meet and greet” during the simulation, he never wanted to see another bug ever again. But unfortunately for him, he didn’t have much say on this matter as it was already decided that everyone would be attending the getaway. Although Ouma could hypothetically refuse to go on said trip, he would be left alone in the apartment complex all by himself for who knows how long… It was a lose-lose situation, but at least by going on the trip he could spend more time with Saihara instead of being bored and lonely.

Ouma allowed himself to recollect the events of the past few weeks, the memories of his first official date with Saihara still fresh in his mind. After they had arrived at the apartment complex, soaking wet and shivering, they couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of what their first date had been. It may have been silly, and nonetheless chaotic, but Ouma wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Saihara felt the same way, enjoying the other boy’s company regardless of how hectic it may be at times. The whirlwind and mystery that was Kokichi Ouma was ever so intriguing to Saihara, luring him in with every word he spoke and every lie he told. He wanted to be the one to uncover that mystery, to understand the reasoning behind Ouma’s each and every action, regardless of how minor or major said action was. But above all, he wanted to protect the other boy from any sadness or harm that might come his way, even if it meant putting himself in danger.

Although they were as far away from danger as they could possibly be, that didn’t eliminate the trauma of being put through a killing game simulation where the excruciating pain of death and losing the ones you care for was as real as ever. Saihara was acutely aware of the fact that Ouma intended on hiding his suffering, smiling through the pain as if nothing was wrong. But he knew better than to believe Ouma’s lies by now, instead offering him a shoulder to cry on in any time of need.

Normally, Ouma wasn’t too fond of the idea of someone being able to see through all of his lies, but he could make an exception for Saihara. In fact, when it came to Saihara, he was actually glad that he could see through a majority of his lies. It led to a playful banter between the two, creating a never-ending game of cat-and-mouse in which both participants were eager to participate. While Saihara’s ability to see through his lies had led to some situations in which he was uncomfortably vulnerable and had to face his emotions, Ouma still found himself craving to be closer and closer to the other boy, slowly taking off his mask of fake smiles and presenting to him his true feelings. The thought of doing so may have been scary, but having Saihara by his side made him feel like he could do anything.

Although he would probably never voice these thoughts aloud, Saihara would be smart enough to eventually figure all of this out, had he not done so already. Not only was he incredibly observant, but his knack for figuring out the truth behind Ouma’s lies led to an unspoken understanding between them; Ouma felt comfortable displaying vulnerability in front of Saihara, and both of them knew this.

Mulling around these thoughts in his head, Ouma decided to rest his eyes for a few moments. It couldn’t hurt to sleep for a little while longer, he supposed…

~~~~~~~~~~

Just as he had settled into a peaceful slumber, the sound of an obnoxiously loud alarm blaring sounded throughout the bedroom. Being a light sleeper, Ouma woke up immediately, cursing the universe for its awful timing. He felt Saihara stir besides him, a surprising feat given how heavy of a sleeper he was. The movement then ceased, Saihara once more curling up under the covers as Ouma observed him, sitting upright.

“You two slept in the same bed again?”

Glancing over his shoulder, Ouma witnessed a groggy-looking Momota eyeing him suspiciously as he made his bed. 

“Duh! It’s easier to kill someone in their sleep, after all!” Ouma tried to sound as chipper as possible, but he couldn’t help the edge of tiredness that crept into his voice as he spoke. “Figures I would have to spell that out to somebody as stupid as you, Momota-chan!”

“Hey, I’m not stupid!” Momota protested, defending himself. “And I’m not an idiot, either! I know you were lying about trying to kill Shuichi just now... Something’s going on between you two and I’m gonna get to the bottom of it!” He asserted his statement confidently, pointing an accusing finger at Ouma.

“Nishishi, good luck with that!” Ouma taunted, sticking his tongue out at Momota.

“What are you two yelling about…?” Saihara spoke quietly, his voice laced with drowsiness as he now sat up in bed and looked at the other two boys. 

There was a slight frown prominent on Saihara’s face, making him look even more adorable than usual when coupled with the fact that his normally tame hair was sticking up in random directions. Realizing he was staring at Saihara just a bit too much, Ouma abruptly looked away. Momota looked away as well, feeling guilty for waking up Saihara in such a rude manner.

“S-Sorry, Shuichi… Didn’t mean to wake you up there…” Momota apologized sheepishly.

Saihara hummed softly, followed by a quick yawn. “It’s okay… I would’ve had to get up sooner or later anyway.” He offered a quick smile in reassurance.

“Well if my sidekick is okay with it then I’m okay with it!” Momota grinned, before glancing at the clock. “We should probably get going soon… Don’t wanna keep the others waiting for too long!”

Saihara nodded in agreement, “Yeah… We better get ready soon, then.”

“Dibs on the bathroom!” Momota declared, running off to go get ready first while Saihara and Ouma got ready to pack their belongings.

At least, that’s what Saihara intended to do before he felt a pair of thin arms wrap around him from behind.

“Ouma-kun…?” Saihara was almost completely out of bed until Ouma pulled him back in, causing him to land on the mattress with a soft thud.

Regaining his bearings, Saihara opened his mouth to chastise Ouma but froze when he saw the look on the other boy’s face.

Rather than wearing an expression of mischief, Ouma’s face was blank as he snuggled up next to Saihara, wasting no time in getting comfortable in bed once more.

“Stay with meeeee…” Ouma mumbled into Saihara’s shoulder, warm breath tickling pale skin.

Saihara absent-mindedly ran his fingers through Ouma’s tousled locks, sighing softly to himself.

“You know I’d much rather stay in bed with you, but we made a promise to the girls and I don’t want to keep them waiting-”

“Then let them wait.” Ouma said firmly, pouting.

Saihara chuckled, peering down at Ouma. “You know we can’t do that…” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I promise I’ll cuddle with you while we’re on the bus.”

Ouma immediately perked up, trying to hide his excitement as he looked up at Saihara with big puppy dog eyes. “Promise?”

“Of course.” Saihara slowly sat up, pulling Ouma up with him. “Now let’s go get ready, okay?”

“Fiiine…” Ouma pretended to pout, but Saihara could still see the warmth dusting his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

The bus was already ready and waiting for them outside of the apartment complex, the tired boys and girls slowly approaching from a distance. As they all walked together, the boys unmistakably noticed Chabashira glaring at them, presumably for ruining their original plan of having this be a trip for the girls only.

“Stupid degenerate males…” Chabashira mumbled under her breath, which went unheard by the boys.

Akamatsu approached her, a tentative smile gracing her lips. “Lighten up, Chabashira-san!” She encouraged, though Chabashira’s mind seemed to be elsewhere.

“Nyeh… There’s no use trying to cheer her up when she’s like this…” Yumeno emerged from Chabashira’s other side, weakly reasoning with Akamatsu.

“I-I see…” She frowned, as being unable to remedy the situation disheartened her. Nonetheless, she kept a bright spirit. “Well if there’s anything I can do to help don’t hesitate to ask, alright?” Akamatsu gave a firm smile, more confident in her efforts this time.

Much to her surprise, Chabashira nodded, flashing her a half-smile. “Mhm! Thank you, Akamatsu-san! I apologize for worrying you!”

“No worries!” Akamatsu grinned, feeling satisfied at last. 

After a few more moments of walking, they arrived at and boarded the large bus. The interior of the bus was furnished with fuzzy and comfortable looking cushions, as well as air conditioners lined along the ceiling. It wasn’t particularly hot where they were currently located, but as they drove south the weather would continue to grow warmer, warranting the use of the air conditioners. 

The bus was large enough so that everyone could occupy their own seat if they wanted to, though the students that were romantically involved with one another chose to sit with each other, Ouma and Saihara being no exception. The smaller of the two had practically draped himself over the other, succeeding in flustering him. 

“O-Ouma-kun, cut it out! People are starting to stare…” Saihara pointed out as he noticed Harukawa glaring at them from over Momota’s shoulder. Their eyes locked, and said glare was replaced by a softer expression, presumably one of sympathy for Saihara as he had his chaotic boyfriend to deal with.

“But you promised you would cuddle with me!” Ouma practically wailed, drawing even more attention to them.

“I will! Just… hush. Please. You’re causing a scene.” Saihara whispered, trying to de-escalate the situation.

Wordlessly, Ouma proceeded to give Saihara his personal space back, even if it was only a little bit.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few hours passed by at a decent pace, most people opting to sleep to pass the time. Despite claiming that he would never fall asleep and miss out on snuggling with his beloved, Ouma dozed off soon enough, though Saihara didn’t mind. But as they began to approach their destination, Ouma awoke, half-heartedly chastising Saihara for letting him break his promise. 

Currently, the two were enjoying the peaceful silence that existed on the bus before the chaos of what this trip entailed would erupt. Saihara pulled out his phone, trying to check the weather in their location after wondering how hot it would be where they were. Unfortunately for him, the weather app wouldn’t load due to poor connection.

“Want me to try?” Ouma offered, taking out his phone as well. Without waiting for an answer, he went ahead and opened up the weather app on his own phone.

“Wait… What was that?” Saihara asked confusedly.

“Hmm? What was what?” Ouma responded, pausing his movements.

Saihara pressed the home button on Ouma’s phone, scrolling past the apps so that he could get a clear view of his lock screen.

“Your lock screen…” Saihara wondered aloud, “What is that?”

Noticing the puzzled expression on Saihara’s face, Ouma immediately burst out laughing.

“It’s a meme, Saihara-chan!” Ouma explained, though the perplexed look on Saihara’s face persisted.

“A meme?” Saihara repeated.

“Oh my god…” Ouma replied in awe, “Don’t tell me that you don’t know what a meme is!”

“I, uh… Sorry?” Saihara chuckled lightly, apologizing nonetheless.

After making a bold declaration to help Saihara become “more cultured”, Ouma spent the next few minutes showing him a variety of memes to broaden his understanding of the term. Although Saihara couldn’t say that he understood them, he had to admit that Ouma’s tenacity was admirable.

Looking out the windows of the vehicle, Saihara noticed that the area they were in was densely packed with trees and sparsely populated with other people. Suddenly the bus drove into a large lot, coming to a stop after parking. After being nudged by Amami, a tired Akamatsu stood up and announced to everyone that they had arrived at their destination. A collective groan from a majority of the bus signaled the group’s displeasure at having to wake up from their naps, but they otherwise cooperated. Gathering up their belongings, they one by one stepped off the bus and into the unwelcoming heat.

Uncomfortable with the unusually hot weather, Ouma began fanning himself rapidly with his free hand in a feeble attempt to fend off some of the heat. Though it did help to cool him down momentarily, the long term benefits were nonexistent, especially as he began to walk and carry his bag with him.

Observing his surroundings, Ouma noticed that the area seemed notably empty, almost as if they were in the middle of nowhere. It was a mystery how the girls even managed to find this place. As the bus began to drive away, the reality that they would be stuck here in the overwhelming heat practically indefinitely was beginning to settle in.

“Saihara-chaaan…” Ouma complained loudly, grabbing the attention of a few others around him as well. “It’s too hot… I can’t go on anymore…” While it was true that he was being dramatic, there was a hint of truth in his words as his pace began to slow down, leaving him trailing slightly behind Saihara and the others.

Saihara gave a fond smile, mildly amused by Ouma’s theatrics. “Here.” He pulled a water bottle out from the side of his bag and handed it to him. “Make sure you stay hydrated. Our campsite should be nearby, so you can rest soon.”

“You want me to drink water?” He gave a disgusted look, but accepted the drink regardless. “Who do you think I am?” After taking a quick sip, he handed it back to Saihara. “I would never drink something as plain and boring as water.”

“Right…” Playfully rolling his eyes, Saihara accepted the water bottle and placed it back in his bag. “Just try to keep going a little bit more, okay?” He gave Ouma a soft yet encouraging look, a gentle expression that was only reserved for him dressed on his face.

“Yup! I feel totally better now that Saihara-chan took care of me! What a doting boyfriend!” Ouma exclaimed, causing Saihara to flush bright red as well as attracting Momota’s attention.

“What are you yelling about, Ouma?” Momota questioned suspiciously before noticing Saihara’s flushed face, causing him to worry. “Woah, Shuichi, your face is really red! Do you need some water or something?”

Saihara stole a glance at Ouma, who was smiling innocently while he was being fussed over by Momota. He sighed.

“I’ll be fine…”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few moments later they arrived at their designated campsite, taking the time to set up their tents and set down their belongings. The tents were large enough to fit two or three people, allowing everyone to keep the same sleeping arrangements that they maintained back at their apartments. Naturally, Ouma slipped off to go explore rather than helping to set up the tents, given that physical effort, or effort in general, was not necessarily something he enjoyed.

He didn’t stray too far from the campsite, keeping it vaguely in his sight to ensure that he did not get lost. Aside from the obvious fact that there were many trees, bushes and rivers, Ouma unfortunately noticed that there were a lot of bugs. A quick shiver ran up his spine as he noticed a particularly large spider crawling dangerously close to him on the side of a tree, loosely triggering his fight or flight response as he jumped away. 

Ouma had never liked bugs, plain and simple. Especially not after the “insect meet and greet” during the simulation. Although it had been his idea in the first place, he never actually intended to get trapped in Gokuhara’s lab with a plethora of bugs, ultimately causing him to go unconscious. Shaking off the unpleasant memories and deciding that he had explored enough, Ouma turned to return to the campsite when he bumped into something tall and solid.

That’s weird… I would’ve remembered if there was a tree right behind me.

Rubbing his head and blinking wearily, Ouma hardly registered what was right in front of him.

“Gon- I’m so sorry!” Gokuhara’s voice sounded from in front of him, distinct and unmistakable. “Is Ouma-kun okay?!”

“Gonta…?” Ouma lifted his head to look at Gokuhara, but all he registered was a fuzzy image of said boy. “I’m fine… Geez, what were you even doing there anyway?” 

“I saw Ouma-kun looking at bug friend and wanted to join! Ouma-kun really does love bugs!” Gokuhara stated excitedly, eyes sparkling.

“Uh, sure… That’s one way to put it.” Ouma grimaced, trying but failing to fake a smile. “So I’m guessing you came out here to look for bugs?”

A flash of sadness flickered across Gokuhara’s face, brief yet still tangible. 

“Gonta was told his memories were fake…” He stared at the ground, expression faraway and unreadable. “But bugs make Gonta so happy! And-”

“Yeah, yeah, big guy. I didn’t ask for a sob story.” Ouma cut him off, dismissing his emotions. He knew where this conversation was going; One thing would lead to another and before they knew it they would be pouring out their emotions to one another, which was certainly not a conversation he wanted to have. Being semi-honest around Saihara was enough, but Gokuhara too? Ouma wasn’t sure he could handle that as well.

Not after what he did to him.

No, he didn’t deserve a happy ending with Gokuhara. Having Saihara accept him and forgive him was enough, he couldn’t burden another human being with his true intentions and emotions.

“Hello? Ouma-kun?” Gokuhara’s surprisingly gentle voice brought him back to reality, Ouma not even realizing that he spaced out.

“Well, that’s enough nature for me today! Guess I’d better head back now! See ya, Gonta!” Ouma tried excusing himself, but found himself being ignored as Gokuhara stared off into the distance with a determined expression on his face. “...Gonta?”

Much to Ouma’s surprise, Gokuhara took off into the woods, most likely running after a bug of some sort. He contemplated whether or not to leave him, but his worry got the better of him and he decided to chase after Gokuhara and bring him back to the campsite.

After running for much longer than he thought he would have to, Ouma finally found Gokuhara, who had the palms of his hands cupped together and was intently observing whatever he was holding. Just as Ouma was about to speak, a red dragonfly fluttered out of Gokuhara’s hands who, rather than giving chase, said his goodbyes to his new friend.

“Oh, Ouma-kun! You came!” Gokuhara cheered excitedly. “Did you see-”

“Yes, I saw your new bug friend.” Ouma stated after catching his breath. “Come on, let’s…”

Ouma cut himself off this time, staring into the expanse of the area around them. He must’ve ran farther than he thought, having found himself on the edge of the woods. Looking past the last few trees and bushes, he saw...

“Ouma-kun? Is everything okay?” Gokuhara tried to grab his attention, to no avail.

Snapping out of his daze, Ouma turned his attention back to Gokuhara, who was anxiously hovering over him. Rather than responding, he simply smiled to himself.

This trip was about to get a whole lot better.

[illicitivywp]

thigh

part one 

"Take another picture and I swear, I will kill you."

His empty threat strings a melodious giggle from your throat, powered greatly by the three or four flutes of bubbly champagne you had earlier enjoyed, "don't be grumpy, Harry," recently, it's become your favourite pastime; teasing him relentlessly over his grouchy tendencies. 

Fire crackles calmly, contained securely in a pit, placed efficiently in the centre of where your friends chat and sip alcoholic beverages.

"I'm not grumpy. Delete the pictures."

You hum in faux thought, cinching your lips to one side and twisting to face him and subsequently irritate him further, "no, I don't think I will."

He raises an eyebrow in challenge, allowing his head to rest lazily against the cushion he had nabbed from your own chair before you even got the chance, "you will."

"Will I?" raising your phone to snap yet another picture of him, he frowns dramatically, presumably with the purpose to ruin any future plans of more photos, one which you still intend on following through, "what if I posted them on Instagram, huh? What then?"

"Then, you die."

"That is so truly terrifying," honestly, the ruthless humidity of the previous few days holds more terror than his hollow, dismissive tone, but for every word that you're uttering enthusiastically, he's not relaxing peacefully with creamy sand wiggling between his toes, and he grows only more and more irritated. Despite the absence of seriousness behind his indignation, he will genuinely consider murder if you don't finally retire in your determination to piss him off. So far, you're successful, but he won't admit that. His narcissism, whilst newly embraced as part of his inept personality and often subjected to self-deprecating jokes whilst on stage, is far too considerable for him to submit to your attempts that easily.

"If you post any of these..." his cheekbone pokes curiously at his creamy skin as his jaw shifts to allow his tongue to transport the wad of fresh mint gum from one concave of his cheek to the other, "I will throw your phone into the sea. And then, maybe you."

"You're feeling extra murderous today, aren't you? Not get laid last night?" you suggest a potential reason for his uncharacteristic irritability tonight with a quirked eyebrow and mischievous smile curled onto your glossed lips. Although the late evening dew of the air is rather unbearable at times, the temperature is pleasurably mild - certainly warm enough to constitute several cooled beers and decisions of short shorts, not a single sleeve anywhere in sight.

Tonight is your blessing of relaxation after a lackadaisical day spent between lounging lazily in the sun and dodging burns, stumbling over your limited knowledge of the complicated Greek language in bids to order a fresh soda or peanut butter ice cream (both which are, luckily, one tiny section of your all-inclusive holiday) and visiting various quaint cafes in groups, where you had already formed a sort of signature of trying the baklava from every food establishment you hit in a flippant attempt to discover the best recipe.

His glare is lethal, even through the costly sunglasses beginning to ski along the attractive slope of his nose, undeterred by his knuckle nudging the bridge back into place barely two minutes prior, "no."

"No?"

"No, I didn't, but also that's not why I'm pissed."

"I thought you weren't?" you smile luminously at the opportunity to simultaneously slip him up on his previous claim and, as it appears, irritate him further, "c'mon, H. Why're you so mad today?"

He sighs a puff out of his nose, scrunching it up like he often does subconsciously, "you really want to know why I'm feeling so angry?" he glances in your general direction, though it flies far over your shoulder and seems to focus on something of his interest in the distance, most likely located somewhere on the vast innocence of the beach that is often shadowed by the towering hotel where you and your friends are currently residing during your month-long trip.

"Please, enlighten me."

"It's because..." he leans forward, gesturing for you to follow with a flick of his index finger, indicating a private matter, "this really, really noisy, annoying girl won't stop taking pictures of me whilst I'm trying to relax." 

Your expression flattens, faking an impartial expression and hoping the quirk of your lips, forcing them into a momentary smile, is simply a hallucination, produce of the alcohol floating casually through your usually organised thoughts and jumbling them wildly. However, a tipsy giggle slips free regardless, "at least I'm successful in pissing you off."

"Remind why I invited you to Mykonos again?"

Although he's acting displeased at your disruptive presence, you do manage to spot a small smile of bemusement before he turns intentionally away, "because you love me," you shrug nonchalantly, and Harry can't help but notice how the bulbs glowing brilliantly behind you form an angelic inverted shadow of warmth, reflecting naturally from the leftover champagne smeared over your lips. 

"Hm, do I?”

"Why else would you let me do this?" grasping his wrist before it rises instinctively to block your attack, you launch from your personal seat with a pure laugh at his inability to hold his burst of comical chuckles any longer the second you come to rest peacefully, one foot supporting your balance by the floor and the other pointed highly as the respective knees each pause - beside his lowly slouched hip and between his thighs. Your own hands raise in time with his; you click another blurry picture of him and he playfully pushes at your stomach, "see! You just love me."

"That's debatable. Mitch, can you control her?" he laughs brazenly at your faux objection, appearing to have emerged from his earlier mystery of irritation - although you'd love to know the genuine cause, you would much rather mess around with the Harry you see every day. 

Mitch chuckles, a reasonably rare sight despite his contempt with life, "I'm already struggling with Sarah, she's probably way too drunk right now," for this breezy comment, he receives a light smack to the arm from Sarah beside him. Her ankles are crossed comfortably and hanging loosely over his legs, and as adorable as they currently look, she is certainly way too drunk and practically dropping off to sleep, aided by the reassuring flames trickling from the pit separating us and the countless alcoholic drinks she had consumed in a brief period of the last few hours. 

"Can you just get off me? You're heavy," Harry tries again, lying straight through his teeth because, as it seems to be turning out, he's not so opposed to you claiming a place atop his thigh, and he surely doesn't mind the shortness of your shorts that he hadn't quite noticed before, "please."

Your hips sway instinctively as you pause foolishly for thought, and his fingers itch around his cool beer bottle to grip onto your waist and set you down much, much closer than your previous (strictly friendly) interactions would imply. Eventually, you smile shamelessly at his unsettled request, lowering yourself gradually until the denim hem of your shorts brushes his

skin and electrifies a taunting shiver along his spine, almost as if you're entirely aware of your actions and their consequential effects. 

Dipping forward, his jaw is already mentally loosened to the floor, and you assist him in flipping it into reality; your thumb digs gently into the acute impression of his cheekbone and your fingers wrap steadily around his jaw, shimmering palm covering his chin and essentially silencing him. "No," your playful whisper worms its path languidly through his hazy thought process, the faint feeling of your free fingers tilting forward into his mouth clutching his wrist tightly and yanking him unwillingly back to present day. Once here, however, his eyebrows furrow in irritation yet again - your entire display, intentional or not, had been a ruse to pluck his half-chewed gum right from between his slick lips. 

Instinctively, (he kind of hopes, too) his teeth clamp together strongly before you can rip your fingers away, not enough to seriously injure you but definitely sufficient to shock you into a melodious giggle, "that's mine," he states blankly, waiting with much more patience than any normal human would have remaining with you at this point.

"No, it's not," your grin is utterly infuriating, yet radiant enough to set alight to an urge Harry's felt a fair few times, one that - up until now, it seems - hasn't quite slipped into the state of insatiability. Frequently, during your relatively common drunken nights out, he's had one or six too many drinks and you just look so incredible, so inviting, practically begging him to utilise any part of his body to pleasure you, even just to kiss you. 

Unfortunately for him, however, you've never expressed any interest in him aside from platonic cuddles during your harder breakups or holding hands with the purpose of deterring any creeping men who may, like he had a pathetically long time ago, admire your effortless beauty, which often results in Harry sat sullenly with his chin in his palm, ignoring any attempts to chat to him and viewing you from afar, silently cherishing your incandescent smile and silly dance moves. It also, most of the time, ends in you gaining a meaningful interaction with some random guy who Harry always wordlessly disapproves of but remains quiet on his opinions for your happiness, whilst Harry usually returns home either directly from whatever club or party or shamefully calls his personal driver to pick him up from whoever stranger's bedroom he finds himself inside. 

The only pacification that appears to work successfully in tearing his focus away from you is the few lasting relationships he's experienced; enjoyably, of course. He's even been in love once or twice, but the one connection that seems to endure any test - crazed fans, endless months of touring, even the brutal argument that followed shortly after he had darted any instruction you had given him and sought out and punched an ex-boyfriend who had laid his hands on you once, and that was once too much for Harry - is yours. 

"Give it back," his demand is so stern you consider obeying for a brisk moment, although after an agile deliberation, you follow your original plan and pop the gum directly on your own tongue, chewing it complacently a total of twice before he recreates your gesture.

His movements are much rougher, stronger, and considerably quicker; he squeezes your cheeks correctly and physically forces your lips to part, glaring candidly straight into your eyes when he snatches one end of the stretched gum, luckily hooked onto your canine and reassuring an easy job. In spite of his inept advantage in terms of tenacity, you had readily prepared for a fight, ensuring to grasp his jaw until the gum was resting triumphantly in your palm. 

His first mistake is releasing you before shifting his hand safely with the gum away, allowing your teeth, much like his own had, to clench down, catching the end of the mint instead of his fingers.

His second mistake is refusing to surrender his rescue attempt, inefficiently stringing it along rather than stealing it directly from between your teeth, now wrapped around the tip of your tongue.

His third mistake is maintaining eye contact...for him, at least. You're giggling drunkenly though your bite, emotionally unaffected by your proximity. 

You shift above him, and whilst you don't particularly feel how smoothly your legs fit with his, you do notice the jolt of hormones swirling through your bloodstream and the subsequent uncomfort deep inside of your tummy. Simply, you're horny, and, naturally, you attribute it to the champagne. 

His first score is regaining his sense swiftly after your slip, observing dazedly that you appear to spend a little more time caught in your head, and he wonders absently if you feel it, too. 

His second score is gathering his wits enough to squeeze once on your jaw, prying it open once again and victoriously unhooking the gum from your tooth, all before your thoughts regulate.

His third, and final, score is preserving his grip and testing his strength by repositioning your head until it levels flatly with his and twisted away from him, placing his velvet lips right beside your ear. He tucks an escapee strand away, his touch so feathery that it animates unexplainable shivers across your skin, raising goosebumps across your lower arms that are instantly noticed by Harry and earn a confident smirk; maybe, you are interested. 

You're partly oblivious to the atmosphere created around you, whilst Harry is so aware, it's already beginning to hurt. 

Disregarding the thin denim of your shorts that intervenes his bare thigh, clothed only in boxers and a white t-shirt due to the soaring heat, and your pleasure, your warmth is prevalent; he almost allows his eyes to roll backwards when he feels it, and he just can’t control himself for much longer. 

Inadvertently brushing his lips against your ear, he exhales, “you know I can feel you, right?” Your expression softens into confusion, a half-hearted plea that he’ll consider being mistaken and pretend that this entire situation never existed, “what? Did you think I couldn’t?” His tone is so low and mean that a heavy swallow constricts your throat, causing him to almost laugh lightly at your abrupt plunge of realisation, “you think you can sit right there, on my thigh, and I wouldn’t be able to feel you throbbing? Poor baby--”

“Stop,” it’s a pathetic whisper, little to absolutely no conviction roaring behind it because, for the first time in a while, you’re recognising that you don’t really want him to stop. 

“Stop?” he repeats your doubtful obstruction, an attractive chuckle hidden beneath his overly condescending voice, “do you really want that?”

His eyes twinkle with your hesitation, his lips parted just enough to allow his bunny teeth to poke out, and you’re considering your answer hurriedly; do you want that? Do you want him? Flustered, you glance towards Mitch and Sarah for an excuse to protest, disappointed yet strangely excited to find that they must’ve taken off back to their hotel room, leaving you entirely alone with Harry.

“I--” as fast as you had realised your privacy, a distinctive, drunken cackle of laughter disrupts, your stinging focus flipping speedily from his offer to your friends returning. 

Mitch’s arm is slung loosely around Sarah’s shoulder, tugging her closer when she giggles at the ticklish feeling of his relatively lengthy hair resting on her upper back. They reappear with fresh beers held in their wobbly hands, clearly oblivious to the situation they’re interrupting as they greet you with a nod of acknowledgement before flopping cheerfully into their chair.

In spite of their unexpected reentry, Harry’s bold determination doesn’t waver, “if you want me to stop, just say,” it’s another nudge of encouragement, challenging your temporary reluctance, all of which melts like ice cream dripping from his tongue when his thigh shifts purposefully beneath you and he mouths inaudibly, “quiet.” Your chest is already rising shallowly, stealing large gulps of oxygen to prevent an absence; your core pulses in replacement for the gasp that would naturally escape if you weren’t in literal public, right in front of your friends, no less. 

“Harry, have you heard from Harris?” Mitch calls out, entirely impartial to the connection between you. 

He glances over, simultaneously pushing up his sunglasses to rest in his messy nest of curls and retrieving his beer from the round table beside you, “yeah, they called earlier. They’re arriving at like... five in the morning, I’m pretty sure - said they’ll text when they land, though.” 

He moves again, clearing his throat inconspicuously and straightening his body a little when your muted whimper punctuates the friction he creates, explicitly grazing the fabric of your shorts against your clit. Mitch hums in affirmation, “what’s the name of that restaurant? The one we’re going to tomorrow?” 

“Um, Aggie’s, I think,” his free leg bounces restlessly, the several rings adorning his slender fingers clinking with the glass in his palms, “about five minutes away. ‘s got good breakfast foods, maybe we should go earlier,” he suggests evenly; if you weren’t the one struggling to silence your moans at the hands of his expertise in women’s pleasure, you would assume he’s completely unaffected. 

“Nine?”

“If you think I can be out of bed and functioning by nine…” Sarah heckles his proposition, causing everyone, with the exception of yourself, to chuckle in agreement. 

Harry’s eyes connect fiercely with yours as he raises his beer to steal a brief sip, his thigh beginning to deviate from peace at a faster pace, and you grit your teeth into a smile when he recklessly drives his muscles upwards a little to apply additional pressure to your sensitivity. When your eyelids flutter closed at the inconceivable rush of pleasure, he snaps his attention away and hides his smirk behind his bottle. 

“Ten, then,” Mitch proposes humorously, and Harry nods gradually in confirmation. 

“Is ten okay for you?” you require a beat or two to realise that his question, accompanied by a smug smile and glimmering eyes, is directed towards you. It places all attention on you suddenly, and the struggle of withholding your whines and charming sighs, knowing that everyone is watching you, mostly unaware of your current battle, heightens unbelievably, 

You nod, silent aside from a gulp of nerves and broken into pieces when he nudges his thigh upwards yet again, “yeah, that sounds great,” you spit out an answer with a faux smile, presuming that to be the single method of preventing his cruel actions from continuing. 

“Fantastic,” he speaks aloud to the group, yet his eyes remain drawn to yours, flickering momentarily to your rosy cheeks and silky lips, “we’ll meet in the lobby at quarter-to,” he surveys your surroundings, particularly where the other’s attention lies currently. 

Apparently, he deems it to be safe to speak quietly to rile you up further. However, you lunge at the opportunity of his distractedness, experimenting discretely and raising your hips slightly from his leg, swiftly clamping your thighs together in a desperate search for relief; the alleviation of pressure you do receive and the pleasure that follows suit is unimaginable. 

Harry disapproves immediately. One, firm squeeze of your waist lands you right back where you had managed to temporarily escape - despite how much you’re enjoying the implication of riding his thigh, (which is utterly insane in itself, you can’t believe you’re genuinely allowing yourself to do this) the pace he’s setting isn’t nearly as fast as you desire. 

His hand glides intently from your hip, grazing over your centre in passing before sliding haltingly along your own thigh. Although they’re about half the size of his, you appear to mold perfectly.

Eventually, his fingertips tap lightly at your knee, slipping beneath to grasp it in one, heavenly palm with incredible ease, physically restraining any potential movement and quashing any hope of relief you foolishly had clung onto like life support, “Harry…” 

“Shh, c’mere,” he whispers lowly, a mischievous glint sparkling in the green of his irises and informing you that he has some sort of plan. You almost moan out when he hits exactly the right spot once, and by the time he figures out a subtle rhythm, nudging your clit with every single shift of his thigh, your own are shivering and your teeth are digging into your bottom lip to the point of pain with the sheer effort of maintaining relative control. 

“I--” you trail off, scrunching up your nose and knitting your feathery eyebrows together, burrowing your nails into the fleshiest part of your palm.

“Hm?” he hums knowingly, removing his hand from your knee and running soft lines along your leg. If you weren’t already trembling from his superficial touch, you certainly would be now. His fingertips travel further towards where your shorts are already displaced an inch or two each time, a wild glance cast over to where your friends sit, unaware and chatting amusedly, secures your fragile safety, “you gonna come, is that it?”

The smugness dripping from his words like honey strings a soft sigh from your lungs, your stomach and fingers quivering visibly as your orgasm approaches rapidly.

You nod in response, squeezing your eyes shut to quell the risk of a stray moan slipping out and humiliating the both of you, but, for Harry, this doesn’t seem to be satisfactory. He requires a spoken answer, and you don’t even have the ability to speak, currently. 

His mellow fingertips finally reach the apex of your thighs, terrifying yet relieving; if he slips his touch anywhere near your bare, warm skin, you surely wouldn’t be able to physically withhold your whines, and yet, you’re silently begging him to disregard that possibility entirely and and rip all of your clothing to shreds right here. 

Deliberately lazily, he slides the fabric covering your center aside, and, as much as he’s craving just the sight of you, he knows that you’re not exactly in the correct mindset to permit him to see anything without liability, so his eyes hover directly on yours. Your eyelids flutter closed in anticipation for his touch and preparing for the unbearable pressure built in your stomach to release shortly.

Expecting warmth, you jolt in surprise and gasp quietly at the iciness of his fresh bottle of beer pressed snugly against your bare skin, risking a timid dredge of your nails along his bicep which flexes with the effort of spreading your legs for him. 

He smiles, satisfied at your reaction, not bothering to focus on you any longer; his forearm runs along the entire length of your thigh, two fingers supporting the bottle and his elbow pushing on your knee as he plucks his phone from the table with his free hand, holding it loosely and without an ounce of care. The prospect of him making you feel this senseless and barely even paying attention to your tiny trembles is driving you dangerously close to the edge. 

“Hey, Mitch,” he speaks normally, catching the attention of everyone and forcing you to quieten to full silence, “what’d you think of the beer?” 

“It’s pretty good - not as good as that one from Madrid, though.”

Sarah chuckles in agreement, “no wonder. Nothing could be better than that.”

“Actually--,” Harry pauses, abruptly removing the bottle from between you, appearing to the others to have been resting innocently on his lap, and raising it. You physically clench your mouth shut tightly when, instead of taking a sip, he tilts his head and, in one, large sweep of his tongue, he cleans your dripping arousal from the glass, smiling angelically in your direction. This time, he does take a small drink of the alcohol you have always preferred to avoid, “tastes really good.” 

Mitch nods in fairness, assuming his comment to be about the beer, but you know better, “I’m definitely not complaining.”

“I think... it might be the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he laughs, as does Harry, and as it seems, Sarah has fallen asleep with her forehead landing on her boyfriend’s shoulder. 

His eyes meet yours yet again, a quirk of his eyebrow implying to lean down, “are you listening?” You nod compliantly, “you’re gonna keep riding my thigh until you come, understand?” 

Jaw clenching as you swallow thickly at his demand, you feel as if you could finish just by the viciousness to his tone, “yes.”

“Good girl, and be quiet about it,” he instructs decisively, frowning slightly when his phone alerts with the buzz of a phone call. At your brisk glimpse, the screen reads Jeff, and you feel somewhat comforted yet horrified at the fact you know the caller personally, because, after all, his client and close friend is about to make you come. “Hi, what’s up?” 

“Harry, have you been on instagram recently?” Jeff sounds seriously concerned, which instantly matches in Harry’s expression; you would mirror his nerves if you weren’t so focused on the pleasure of his bare thigh rubbing against your clit repeatedly. Understandably, you’re a little preoccupied.

“Uh, no, I’ve been out for a while. Is something wrong?” this particular comment is certainly enough to catch your attention, and you freeze with nothing but an artful grin. 

“Someone appears to have posted some photos of you, from tonight, I’m assuming,” he announces, and Harry’s gaze snaps maliciously to you, “I’m guessing the culprit is with you right now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” if you thought the intensity of his glare was fiery before, you’re now blistering from the blaze, “don’t worry, I can sort it out.”

“I don’t think many people have caught them quite yet, but a few have tweeted about it.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll deal with it.”

“Have a nice night, H.”

“You too, mate, speak to you tomorrow,” he exhales as if he were exhausted shortly after ending the call, calmly setting his phone and beer upon the small table. In a sudden twist, your hair is tangled around his wrist and becomes leverage for him to yank you closer, “I’m gonna fuck the shit outta you, you know that?” 

Your squeak of anticipation is barely audible, though the hint of hilarity is strongly set within your darkened eyes, “mhm.”

He releases you with a unique roughness that stretches a gasp from your lungs, “make yourself come,” the comment is flippantly articulated, and yet, utterly cataclysmic for the pressure you dare to cover your centre with again and again. Within thirty seconds, your thighs are trembling, your stomach is clenching in count with your core, and your features are scrunched up firmly. 

Usually, he would view the contortion of your face to be adorable. He has many times in the past, in fact. Right now, however, he’s concentrating heavily on not coming just from the sight of you curbing your whimpers and trying so hard not to alert your drunken friends of your provocative acts. Absently, he wonders how an outsider would perceive the two of you at this moment; is it obvious? Do you look like a happily married couple or is it clear that you’re simply friends who slipped and accidentally blurred the boundaries set naturally between you? 

You muffle your sob against his shoulder, and, in an effort to appear in the eyes of others like a platonic act of comfort, he buries his fingers into your messed hair, embracing you closer and allowing him to drive his thigh upwards in time with your subtle movements. 

His lips, craving to be connected to yours, flatten neutrally, mirroring the rest of his face - Mitch, who’s awoken by Sarah’s quiet snores, smiles privately at your proximity. Whilst it’s obvious he’s not aware of the deeper purpose of your closeness, he had figured out that Harry was completely over his head for you barely weeks after meeting him, and he’s pleased that you seem to have crossed the line of friendship. 

“I- I’m so close--” you choke out against his supportive weight, your voice cracking pathetically and causing the corners of his lips to quirk up smugly, “Harry…” your jaw drops laxly whilst the rest of your body tenses; your nails dig crescent moons into his bicep, your thighs quiver around his, your core pulses in nearly painful relief at the abrupt dissipation of pressure.

He thinks you look so, so incredibly pretty at any given moment, but he has to say, seeing your highest inhibitions unravel so profoundly as you come for him, you’ve truly never looked better than when you’re his. 

Chest rising hollowly, a sharp inhale rips through your lungs and reinvigorates your perception of reality, and, this time, your jaw plummets for a whole other cause. 

Oh, my God, what the fuck did you just do? 

You actually, genuinely just rode the thigh of one of the biggest celebrities in the modern industry, topping every chart and barely batting an eyelid at women hurling themselves at him, exactly as you had just done. 

And you liked it--loved it, even.

He made you come; an occurrence that (unfortunately for your childish expectations that were shattered several years ago) is often rare and difficult to achieve. And he did it without so much as a single touch. 

Regaining movement as your senses begin to slow down in their innate tingling and his hand shifts from your untidy hair, he tries not to focus for too long on your flushed cheeks and puffy lips, “you good?”

“Did you really just ask if I’m good?”

“Yeah.”

“...yeah, I’m really good, Harry. What was that?” you stutter in a panic; sure, you’d had your moments of appreciating his attractiveness and wondering what it’d be like to potentially obscure the boundary of friendship between you, but you had never even considered that. 

He smiles youthfully, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb, “a preview. C’mon, I’m so, so far from done with you.” In one sudden swipe, all of your hesitance, all of your anxiety over the implications of whatever the fuck you just did, disappears into thin air, and you’re willing for absolutely anything.

Your platonic relationship is fucked already, why not destroy it entirely?

[ashtheshortstack]

take my scars & make them stars - ch 8

Rating: M Ship: Kristoff/Anna Chapter Eight

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sick Fic, Cancer Fic, Chronic Illness, Chemotherapy, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Character Death

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A small light... white walls… There was a heaviness in Anna’s limbs. As well as a dryness in her mouth, her ulcers ached and burned from the lack of moisture. There was intrusive air blowing into her nostrils. She felt sore all over. Dull pain shooting through her fingers as she attempted to bend them. 

“Anna?” 

That voice… definitely wasn’t Elsa. But instead, she realized after a moment that was definitely the sound of a certain blond. 

Blinking open her tired eyes, Anna languidly processed her surroundings. She was in the hospital. It was dark in the room aside from a small light on the wall. Searching the room, she found Kristoff sitting in a chair in the corner. He was looking up from his phone that was still illuminated in his hand. 

“K-Kristoff…?” she gasped out. Her voice was raspy, clearly she’d been out for a few hours. 

Dropping his phone in the seat, he moved over to her. “You’re awake, huh? The sedative must’ve worn off.” 

She blinked slowly, taking him in. What was he doing here? Why was she here? Wait. Sedative? Anna felt her heart rate spike, panic washing over her as she glanced around the room. Moving to sit up, she gasped at the ache in her bones. 

“Sedative? Wha--? Kristoff, why am I? What’re you--?” 

He hushed her, shaking his head as he gently pushed her shoulders back into the bed. “I’ll go get Dr. Mattias, okay?” 

Taking a deep breath, Anna nodded. “Y-Yeah. Okay.” 

Giving her a small smile, he bobbed his head before his hand left her arm. Kristoff gave her one last once over before leaving the room. 

While he was gone, Anna tried to calm herself as she’d been taught. Slow breathes. In the nose and out the mouth. In and out. In and out. She grounded herself, taking note of her surroundings. What she could feel. What she could see and hear…

The door opened, and Dr. Mattias walked in with Kristoff in tow. The blond hung back, going back to the chair in the far corner of the room. He said nothing, but Anna could see the worried lines on his forehead. She watched as he leaned forward, placing his face in his hands. 

But her attention on him was disrupted when Dr. Mattias began to speak. 

“Hello, Anna. It’s good to see you’re up.” 

Anna smiled at him. “Thank you. Um, what exactly am I doing here?” she asked, glancing between the doctor and Kristoff. 

“Well, you collapsed, technically, yesterday afternoon since it’s about three am now. There’s nothing wrong with your numbers, so we just assume maybe you overwhelmed yourself,” he said. Dr. Mattias pulled up another chair, taking a seat beside her bed. “Have you been pushing yourself too hard lately?” 

“Uh,” she looked at Kristoff. He was staring out the window. She knew he was listening, so she didn’t want to just blame him for the situation. It wasn’t his fault. Yes, she had been a little overly emotional because of the situation regarding him. But it was her decision to try to distract herself with constant remedial tasks that she normally wouldn’t have. Anna nodded shamefully. “Y-Yes… I’ve just been stressed. I’ve been doing a little extra.” 

Dr. Mattias hummed. “I see. Well, Anna, your treatment is so close to completion that I’d recommend you really take it easy. We’re so close to the end of this journey, and I’d hate for you to get too overzealous and relapse. I don’t want to put you on bed rest, but I do want you to stay home for a while, okay? No long walks through the town for a while, alright?” 

She agreed. “Yes, sir. I understand.” 

“Alright,” he smiled and patted her on the shoulder when he stood. “Just stay hydrated. Don’t skip any meals, either. Got it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. We’ll release you in the morning. If you need anything, just let one of the nurses know.” 

“Thank you, Dr. Mattias.”

He gave her a nod as he opened the door. “Good night, Anna. Get some more rest. See you in the morning.” 

Anna watched her doctor take his leave. Her heart tightened almost painfully in her chest as she gazed over at Kristoff. His attention was on the city lights shining through the window, not daring to take a peek at her. She couldn’t blame him… the last time they’d seen one another hadn’t ended well. They both said some stupid things. Anna knew Kristoff wasn’t actually angry with her, it was just his defense mechanism. Didn’t everyone have that? Especially those who had been through such a tragedy. 

Swallowing thickly, she willed the dryness in her throat to dissipate before she spoke. “Will--Will you tell me about her?” 

Kristoff’s eyes shifted, giving her a sideways glance. 

“A-About Pepper?” she elaborated. 

He turned to face her fully then, eyebrows raised above his hairline. The stunned expression on his face had her stomach churning, but she wouldn’t give up. Surely, he wouldn’t have stayed here if he hadn’t wanted to make things right between them. 

“Anna, I--I am so sorry. I know I should’ve told you about her a long time ago. I was just so afraid to scare you.” 

Shaking her head, she smiled. “I know, Kristoff, I know. I’m sorry for how I acted. I was just--I was so hurt that you’d kept such a big part of your life from me--” 

“And I shouldn’t have.” 

“I know, but it’s okay. You wanted to keep me hopeful. I’ve… I’ve never had someone look out for me like you do, Kristoff. Not even Elsa. Or Gerda. Or my parents. I just--I took it so personally. Like I had done something wrong. Like… I wasn’t mature enough to handle it.” 

Kristoff sat up then. “Anna, it was never that. I never, ever meant to make you feel inadequate. Or like you were a child I was protecting. Or--Or a charity case like you thought. It was never that. You were just so… positive. And shit, if I ruined that, I would’ve never forgiven myself. And of course, I did ruin it by not being honest with you.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything.” 

“What?” 

“You didn’t. I promise you. If anything you brought me back to reality. This isn’t over, and I can’t be stupid like I was,” she gazed down at her hands, clasping them together and twiddling her thumbs. “I was trying to help around the house too much. Walking from here to the coffee shop all the time was way too much on me too, but I ignored it because…” Anna felt her cheeks flush. “Well, I wanted to see you.” 

He let out a soft scoff, he shook his head. “You don’t have to walk to the coffee shop to see me.” 

“I need to get my license.” 

Kristoff snorted. “Yeah, that too. But Anna, I’ll come to you wherever and whenever you want. You don’t have to burden yourself to see me.” 

“It seemed silly to drive when the coffee shop is just down the road from here. Barely a mile.” 

“Anna. I will be there. Wherever you need me.” 

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “Okay.” 

Kristoff stood, surprising her. His hands were at his sides, fingers nervously twitching and rubbing along his palms. Brow pinching, he glanced down at his feet. She tilted her head before beckoning him over with a hand. Tense shoulders sagged in relief as he strode over to her in two steps. 

He sat beside her in the bed, perching half himself on the mattress as his opposite foot rested on the floor. But Anna shifted instead, making room for him on the tiny bed. It really wasn’t meant to fit two people, but Anna maneuvered herself enough that she laid in Kristoff’s lap, his legs on either side of her hips as she laid against his chest. She wasn’t sure how on earth Kristoff would even fit in a hospital bed without her included. But it worked well enough, and he was able to fully sit on the bed… so she called it a win. Especially since she was so comfy against him. It amazed her, really, that any time they cuddled up together it was always a perfect fit. 

They were quiet. The silence was comforting as she felt the rise and fall of his chest against her back, his soft breaths echoed behind her. Anna looked down at his hands perched on his knees, grabbing them, she pulled them into his lap and played with his fingers. His hands were so rough, nails bitten-down, fingers calloused… he must have really worked hard. She admired that about him. 

“Pepper was diagnosed when she was four. Acute lymphoblastic leukemia… Chemo had a lot of the same effects on her body that you’ve experienced,” his fingers traced over hers before massaging over her numb digits. Kristoff leaned forward, his lips pressing to her ear. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry you’re going through this.” 

His voice sent shivers down her spine. Glancing up, she pressed her head to his shoulder. “You make it easier… and I’m sure Pepper felt the same.” 

Kristoff chuckled at that. “Our favorite pastime was, uh, reading princess books.” 

“Oohh, princess books, hm? You seem like the princess type.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I did whatever I could to make her feel better,” he murmured. She noticed the flush on his cheeks as he looked away. 

Squeezing his fingers the best she could, Anna nuzzled her nose into his neck. “You do that for me too, you know. I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done.” 

“I haven’t done enough.” 

She hummed. “You have, Kristoff. You’ve done more than enough. You have given me more than I ever thought could have come out of--well, a relationship.” 

Kristoff snickered. “And we aren’t even a couple,” he teased. 

“Uh huh, I’m serious. I can’t believe you wanted to see me after I puked on your shoes.” 

Shrugging, he laughed slightly. “It wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before.” 

Anna agreed sadly, glancing away. She was silent for a moment before taking in a deep breath. “When… When Pepper was diagnosed did--did your parents…?” 

“What?” 

“Did they, ya know, pay more attention to her?” 

He stiffened at that. “God, no, Anna.” With a sigh, he wound his arms around her middle, pressing her flush against him. He nuzzled into her crown, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry your parents did that to you. That’s not how family works. Anna, you’ll never be second. Not to me.” 

Tears pricked her eyes as she sniffled, sucking up her emotions the best she could. “I… Thank you.” 

Smirking, he wiped a stray tear for her cheek. “Except maybe to Sven.” 

Anna barked a laugh. “I can understand that.” How could he cheer her up so easily? With just a little comment like that? 

He pressed a kiss to her auburn locks. “I mean it, though. My parents--they always made sure that I was okay. When I told you I was kind of a jerk for a while there? It was right after Pepper died. I was angry. Thought it was unfair. She was so young. Six year olds aren’t supposed to die, you know? Especially not like that. I… Watching the pain she went through hurt more than anything I’d ever seen. And I just--I was so upset. I couldn’t handle it. I was depressed, I went to therapy… and then my parents got me Sven. So, I finally had someone to take care of again.” 

“You had every right to grieve.” 

“I know. I just couldn’t let it go for a year. I held all of my emotions in and it came out as anger at school. I lost interest… stopped trying in class. Quit the football team. Kept beating up anyone who looked at me twice.” 

Anna reached up, cupping his cheek. “I’m glad you made it through that.” 

“Me too. I’m happy I’m able to treat you right, Anna.” 

Giggling, she nodded. 

He paused, smiling slightly. “There’s something else… You know how you said sunflowers were your favorite?” 

“Yeah?” 

Sucking in a breath, he continued. “They were Pepper’s favorite too. Her casket was surrounded by them, and I saved one of them from the display. Call it a hunch or--or you may just think this is weird, but I also thought whatever girl I’d end up with would love sunflowers too.” 

Her heart tightened in her chest. Oh, wow… That felt different. The words sent a warmth through her veins, making her heart pound. She couldn’t explain what she was feeling, but it seemed like a confirmation. That wasn’t just a coincidence, was it? Suddenly, Anna knew. She just knew Kristoff was the person she was supposed to be with. Forever. 

Anna didn’t know how long her forever would be, but with Kristoff by her side she hoped it was for many years to come. She had Elsa back by her side. She had Gerda who had been the mother that Anna had never had there for her. Anna had always wanted a dog of her own, but Sven would do. She was grateful Kristoff had a companion when he needed one the most. And while Pepper may have not been physically there… Anna couldn’t wait to get to know her too. As well as the rest of Kristoff’s family. 

There was a bright future ahead… and Anna could finally see it. She could picture it in her mind. She could fight this. She could get past it. She had to. 

Anna refused to let Kristoff lose another person to this horrid disease. Kristoff had been the first person in a long time to see her. To see Anna as she truly was. And that meant more to her than she could ever explain to him. As much as she tried, there would never be words that could tell him. 

Except maybe three… She loved him. 

She loved this man with every fiber of her being. The last few months spent with him had changed her life in the best way. Maybe, she wasn’t grateful for cancer, but she was grateful for what it had brought to her. Her sister… maybe even the love of her life. It got her away from her horrid ex that just wanted her for money. 

Anna knew she needed to tell Kristoff how she felt. And she would. But not yet. She needed more time. And Anna knew she had all of the time in the world. 

[sykilik101]

Baby Steps

They say if two people fight, they really care about each other.

In a brief moment of affectionate teasing, the Nurse Joy of Vermillion City had begun a trend that would follow Ash Ketchum for years to come. The boy had lost count of the jests and nudges regarding the romantic status of himself and his favorite redhead. Friends from nearly every region he’d visited on his journey, his own travelling companions, his family; even Team Rocket seemed to enjoy prodding the notion. It was as if the world felt certain he and Misty would end up as an item someday, or at the very least, that they had feelings for each other.

Who knew they’d actually be right in the end?

This manner of contemplation busied Ash’s mind, its precedence now higher than sleep. Submerged by the ocean of stars above and surrounded by an army of trees, his sole companion was the fire crackling and popping before him. An eroded log collapsed into the ashes, tossing sparks into the air. Ash followed them with his eyes, watching as they fizzled out into nothingness. His gaze remained skyward, the stars dimmed by the light and smoke of the campfire.

The choice to remain awake was not his own. He’d slipped into his sleeping bag when the time for slumber called, but rest would not come to him. The day’s events replayed in his mind, endlessly cycling through the scenes that had taken place only hours before. In the end, he felt trying to sleep with such an occupied mind would be a wasted effort, opting to humor his plagued thoughts while waiting for his body to exhaust itself.

He turned his attention, scattered as it was, to the girl hiding behind the embers. His eyes warmed at the docile expression on her face. It was not the first time he had taken notice of her sleeping form, nor would it be the last, he felt. The sight of a carefree and peaceful Misty did wonders on him, slowing his mind down and filling him with a feeling he couldn’t compare with anything else. A breeze drifted by, and Ash grinned as Misty curled deeper into her sleeping bag, her face scrunching up before relaxing once more.

For reasons he couldn’t explain at the moment, he removed his cap, pulling from inside it a pink cloth. He recalled the evening Misty had given it to him, making his heart shiver in a manner he hadn’t felt those many years ago. The handkerchief had been the key to a new world, and for a sparse few seconds, they had entered it together. Something bigger than both of them had taken place, and words which should have been said long ago were meant to be spoken, but an interruption from Brock destroyed the moment.

Since then, that connection lingered inside him, whispering, prodding. It took ages for him to realize the voice was related to Misty, and even longer to hear what it was telling him. When it did, it did in a big way. His face flared, his chest jittered about like crazed Butterfree, and his reflection depicted a fool with the silliest grin conceivable. The knots in his brain had come undone, and his heart felt large enough to hold his entire Pokémon collection a million times over.

He had to see her. It had been a week since he made that decision, and three days since he’d arrived in Cerulean City. Two days ago, he had been standing before the Cerulean Gym, wrapping his best friend in an embrace he refused to end for as long as he could, watching her don a blush he was sure he shared. One day since she had agreed to join the group once more, and somewhere above a few hours since they had confessed to one another.

The moment, he felt, had been perfect. He’d never before taken notice of how moonlight brought out the natural beauty of things, but he was more than grateful that the sight of Misty’s shocked expression, bathed in the soft glow, was the first he experienced of it. Strands of her hair floated along a breeze, her mouth parted as she stood motionless; undoubtedly comprehending the words Ash had spoken. It had taken an awkward minute for her to recollect her thoughts, and when her lips slowly curved upwards, Ash knew what her response would be.

Perhaps it was the post-confession buzz that kept him awake, he mused. From the moment he allowed a piece of her heart into his own, it had refused to calm down, like a toy fitted with an overcharged battery. His body was on overdrive, and he loved it.

But what now? He was certainly no expert on love or relationships. He knew enough to know that when two people are dating, they hold hands, and hug a lot, and kiss...his face went pink at the notion, his stomach doing a little flip that made his body shudder. He pictured his face close to hers, her eyes closed, their lips less than an inch apart...the pink turned to red as he shook his head, too embarrassed even by the idea to continue that train of thought.

He stared at the handkerchief, hoping it would give him a clue. In the moments of receiving it, he was sure that both Misty and himself must have felt the same thing. Even though he didn’t know what he felt, Misty must have known. As romantic as she liked to be, he was positive that she was aware of her emotions. And maybe, in a way, this was her confession, wordless but carrying with it a sense of knowing that even if he never realized his feelings, he’d never forget that she expressed hers.

But Ash grimaced, his grip on the cloth tightening. How long had it been since that day? Years? For Misty to have said yes to him, she must have spent all that time holding onto those feelings, hoping for a chance to be with him, worrying that he might not even feel the same way. In comparison, he’d only been dealing with these feelings for a week, and even that was more than he could handle.

How much stronger were her feelings than his? How much more did she expect of their relationship than he? He couldn’t say, but he compared his confession to hers. She’d presented him with a gift, a promise that no matter what happened, a part of her would always be with him, as long as he chose to hold on to it. All he could offer was his words. Had she wanted more? Was his confession enough?

Hearing movement from over the fire, he watched Misty turn over in her sleep once more. Her new position exposed her bare shoulder, and she shuddered as a cool gust chilled her. Returning the handkerchief to its former hiding spot, Ash made his way to her sleeping bag. Kneeling before her, he eyed the exposed flesh. He felt compelled, for no discernible reason whatsoever, to remain in his position, content with the sight before him. He placed a shaky hand on the naked skin, reveling in the soft and smooth texture.

How would it feel to kiss it?

His body froze, his grip subconsciously tightening. Where did that come from? His thumb ran across her shoulder mindlessly, deriving a unique pleasure from the sensation. His breathing grew shallow, a mild fear surging through him as he suddenly became acutely aware of the position he was in. He jerked back, almost as if he’d touched the fire behind him.

The sudden movement caused Misty to shift, and Ash held his breath as the girl steadily rose her head from her pillow.

“Ash, is something wrong?”

His voice was lost to him for a moment before clearing his throat to reclaim it. “Don't worry, everything's fine.”

With his vision limited to the light from the fire, he couldn’t tell if her eyes were narrowed out of irritation or drowsiness. “Then why did you wake me up?”

“I didn’t mean to, really,” he replied sheepishly.

She glared at him, not uttering a word for several moments before closing her eyes with a sigh, slumping back into her sleeping back.

Ash sat there confused, surprised that Misty hadn’t verbally bitten his head off at the least. Normally she’d have run him down like a vicious animal before sending him to dreamland the hard way. Regaining his composure, he made his way back to his former seat, refocusing his attention on the fire. For several minutes he sat there, listening to the pops and cracks of the flames.

“Ash, can you sleep?”

The voice was barely audible over the campfire. He glanced around it to see Misty staring back at him, still tucked away in her sleeping bag. She seemed awake now, and didn’t appear to be returning to slumber soon.

“Not really. Just sort of thinking.”

She observed him for a moment, soundlessly, before making her way out of her sleeping bag, moving to sit beside him. “About what?”

The sudden change in proximity warmed his cheeks, with the campfire taking no credit for it. “Uh…about us.”

“O-oh,” Misty whispered, clasping her hands together.

Seconds felt like hours as silence pervaded the air around them, leaving the pair to their own devices. Ash could no longer keep his thoughts together, what with his newly-acquired girlfriend sitting inches from him. He felt he should say something, but words escaped him. He knew from the fact she hadn’t merely told him to go back to sleep like her normal personality would suggest that she was at the very least trying to create some semblance of a caring partner. He felt he should return the gesture, but he wasn’t sure how.

He glanced sideways, surprised to find Misty’s gaze meeting his. Their eyes darted away immediately, nerves jittering about. He felt silly. Days ago, he didn’t feel this nervous around her. She was still his friend, and he shouldn’t act like anything was different. All that changed was that he called her his girlfriend, right? Asking himself why it mattered so much, he built up enough courage to move his hand behind her, planting it on her shoulder.

She stiffened for a moment before her shoulders returned to their normal position. Hoping that progress was being made, he urged himself to look at her. “Is this alright?”

Her eyes were shaking, but she nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Her voice wavered, her hands shivering as her eyes avoided his. Hating to see her in such a state, he eased his hand off her shoulder, opting to touch her elbow closest to him. The soft contact seemed to calm her down. “Sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “Just sort of shy, I guess.” She averted her eyes towards the trees, using one of her hands to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

Further confusion clouded his mind. He never knew Misty to be this timid around him. She knew to be aggressive when his ego inflated, and always helped him stay excited when his spirits may have fallen. But she always did so with confidence, the ability to stay upbeat regardless of what she was feeling. A shy Misty was an abnormal Misty, and he wondered if their relationship shift was the cause somehow.

In the back of his mind, something finally clicked. She was treating him differently. And while he’d normally object to such a notion, he understood her motives. They were no longer just friends. They were something more. If he treated her like any of his other friends, he couldn’t really say he thought of her as anything else. However, he did think of her as something more, and thus appropriate measures and actions were needed. And if she knew as much as he did about actual relationships, then they were likely on the same page.

“Hey, Misty?”

She looked to him. “Yeah, Ash?”

Focusing with all his might, he smiled. It was the same confident smile he wore when he prepared himself for a battle, and he hoped the strength it gave him would help in this challenge. “Can I hold your hand?”

Her rosy cheeks, mixed with the light of the fire, painted her face a shade of beautiful. Slowly, a tiny grin began to sprout, and behind it Ash could make out the confidence he liked about her. “Sure.”

Holding back a grin that was a few shades too excited, Ash took her hand in his. This time, it wasn’t shaking. As their fingers interlaced, Misty scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. It was small, but it was enough for them. Taking baby steps on the long journey ahead wouldn’t be an issue. They had plenty of time to learn.

“I like you, Misty.”

He could hear her smile. “I really like you too, Ash.”

[udunie]

Kinktober #21

(Chris/Stiles, A/B/O, non-con, forced pregnancy, DARK)

21. Breeding Kink | Somnophilia

When they first met, Chris knew that Stiles didn’t want to have children, that he was a free spirited little thing, set on living life on his own terms. And Chris had been fine with that. He’d already had a beautiful Alpha daughter from his previous marriage - a daughter only a year older than Stiles, in fact - his line would continue. He was older, more experienced and more mellow than all the young Alphas running around trying to get their knots wet for the first time.

He thought he would be able to handle it.

Oh, how very wrong he was. There was a world of difference between being married to a beta and being mated to a sweet, ripe omega. Stiles was… perfect. He was perfect in every way Chris could imagine; he was smart, he was breathtaking, he had a savage sense of humor and a nurturing side he reserved for people he loved.

They’d only been mated for half a year, and Chris already knew that he had to put his babies into Stiles. It wasn’t just a nagging thought, or some cloudy instinct in the back of his mind, no. It was an acute, biting urge that gnawed on his insides in every waking hour. He needed.

He’d tried to bring it up with his young mate a few times, tried to be smart about it, taking a walk in the park, making comments about omegas with strollers. But Stiles didn’t even acknowledge it, too busy planning his upcoming start at college. He’d taken off a year so they could be mated, but he was eager to start the next chapter of his life.

Chris was careful to examine himself. He loved Stiles. That was the one thing he was certain of. And if he found that his needs would hurt the boy, he would rather leave. But the more he thought about it, the more reasonable everything seemed. 

After all, omegas were made to bring new life into the world. They had incredible bodies capable of carrying multiples to term over and over. The traditions of the last few centuries didn’t just appear from nowhere, they were based on the fundamental truth, that an omega’s duty was to carry their Alpha’s children. 

And… he was Stiles’ Alpha now. He was responsible for him. What if Stiles later - when it was all too late - realized that he would have been better off having a few pups? And he surely would, it was only biology. Stiles would end up remorseful, and Chris wouldn’t be able to turn back the clock, would he? If… If he got Stiles pregnant, he would merely be taking care of him in the long run.

Stiles always took his birth-control like clockwork, every evening at seven, he would pop one of those damned pills. There was no way for Chris to stop him from doing it - not without a fight - so instead he went on the internet to look for a solution, and managed to find a guy selling one.  

He had to wait until Stiles took his evening pill. Then he had to wait an hour and make him drink the medicine that would knock it right out of his system. Omega birth-control meds were strong, and the guy he brought the antidote from warned him that it would be difficult. Stiles would fall asleep when it took effect, and from there, Chris would have a three hour window to knock him up. No more, no less.

It took some planning. Some maneuvering. Chris didn’t like to take such underhanded measures, but he was sure he was doing the right thing here, even if his mate was unable to see it. They were six months before the time Stiles was set to start college, and he needed to act. California law was still strict enough that omegas who were ‘visibly pregnant’ were not allowed on college campuses.

***

Sties fell asleep on the couch, tucked against Chris’ side as they watched some stupid show about gold mines. It was subtle, but he could already tell that Stiles was smelling differently. His dealer said that the smell would go away when Stiles took the pill again tomorrow, but that wouldn’t affect the pregnancy. Omega bodies were made to be pregnant. 

Chris turned off the TV, feeling strangely excited. They had sex almost every day, but somehow he knew that this… this was the first time it really mattered.

He picked the boy up and took his to the bedroom silently, not even turning the lights on. What little glow came in the window would be just enough. 

Chris laid Stiles out, undressing him with careful hands, gently petting his flat belly. He could already imagine how it would look, round with his children and full of life. Stiles was already beautiful, but he had no doubt that pregnancy would make him glow. Maybe it will change the silly boy’s mind, and he would realize that he was happy being a homemaker. No… no, there was no ‘maybe’ about it. Chris knew he would. He would have Stiles all for himself, and they will have kids running around and it will be perfect. 

Just the thought of that happy future had him achingly hard. God, he waited so long to do this, to put his seed in Stiles where it would blossom into something beautiful.

Chris quickly got out of his clothes, climbing over his mate, kissing his unresponsive lips, his neck, running his hands down his smooth sides. Stiles was always squirming when they had sex. He was always in motion, biting his lips, moaning, clutching at Chris or a pillow, and Chris loved every second of it. But… but there was something wonderful about him like this too. Still. Perfectly at Chris’ command. Submissive. 

Chris reached between the boy’s thighs, searching out his tight little hole, rubbing his fingers against it over and over until Stiles’ body did what it was meant to, becoming loose and slick under his ministrations. Chris never had his blood race the way it did when he finally fucked his hard cock into Stiles’ waiting body. 

All he could think about, as his hips started moving, rutting into his sweet boy, was doing this again, eight months from now, when Stiles will be round with his children, soft and obedient and ready to be the best omega he could be…

It took a surprisingly short time for him to get to the edge. 

Chris never knew coming could feel so much like victory.

[saferincages]

Because of the dog’s joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs? - Mary Oliver, Dog Songs

Today, April 18th, would have been our beloved Angel’s 13th birthday. We were so hoping she would be here to celebrate it, but unfortunately her illness took her far more quickly than we were anticipating, which has us commemorating it without her, and still grieving her terribly.

I’ve talked about her so often that I now struggle to find the proper words to pay tribute to what a miracle she was for me, and what a truly special girl and precious little soul she was. I related some of the story of us getting her here, but wanted to take this last chance to remember. Saying I dreamed of or wanted a dog my entire life doesn’t even fairly capture it - I yearned for a dog, more than anything else that could ever be offered to me. There were multiple obstacles that made this impossible growing up - my mom and I being too busy with work/school to properly care for one, the fact that we were too burdened financially, the limitations on the kind of dog we could bring home given both of our allergies. Thus it remained my fondest continual wish. By 2006, my illness had been breaking me down for over a year. I had no choice but to drop out of school when I could barely function; I had reached what they called a “plateau” in physical therapy, a point where they couldn’t help me or rehabilitate me further from my lingering car accident injuries, and my immune system kept getting worse, my body increasingly frail. I was spending most days entirely alone while my mom worked full-time. It got to the point of quiet desperation, my depression was becoming more serious and we didn’t know what to do.

An e-mail went out in my mom’s office from a family who wanted to rehome their young standard poodle. We decided to go and meet her, and she was lovely, but she was 60 pounds and definitely too rambunctious for us to enclose in our very small living situation. (There’s a happy ending to that story, as her family decided to keep her.) The thought was irrevocably planted in my brain, though, and I fixated on the idea of finally finding a dog. We tried several other times - like a 3 year old Bichon who ended up at our Humane Society (they’re so rarely found at shelters that they did a lottery for people to be able to adopt him; our number did not come up), then a miniature poodle puppy at the shelter in Denver (same story with the lottery). I started scouring the paper, and one night in late July, in the online classifieds, I found a listing for six Bichon puppies. The timing was unbelievably perfect. I excitedly called the number, and the lady told me they had two left, a boy and a girl, and if we would like to see them, could we please come right away, because she and her husband were going out of town for the weekend and someone else was going to come watch the dogs. My mom and I got into the car in the dark of night and drove to the other side of the city. When we got there, we saw four little white fluffy faces in the door - the couple’s two adult Bichons and two babies.

We went inside, and the lady who had them started telling us about them. The little boy was docile and laid-back, the little girl was sweet yet very feisty and stubborn. She had been the smallest in her litter, and her five brothers and sisters pushed her around and never let her eat enough, and so she had to learn to stand up for herself. They were both darling. He laid quietly on the floor waiting for attention. She perseveringly climbed up onto the back of the sofa to be as close to us as possible, to sniff us and kiss our faces. She was silly and affectionate, and of course I instantly fell in love with her. She was meant to be ours. They gave us her papers, and her blanket, I scooped her up in my arms, and she was mine. On the drive home, our normal route ended up being blocked off because of a chemical spill, and the police officer who stopped us glanced into the car and smiled at the sleepy little puppy (”look!,” he said, “a carpet with eyes!” because she was quite fuzzy).

The gate to temporarily keep her in the kitchen overnight didn’t work at all, she was too smart for that. She squeezed out and promptly came into my room, whimpered on my floor until I turned to look at her, and waited for me to pick her up. I put her on the bed, she stole a pillow, and that was our story almost every night for the rest of her life. She was the best puppy, a model puppy, she never made a mess or chewed up anything she wasn’t supposed to (except for a roll of toilet paper, which only made us laugh), and she took to training quickly.

She was the most incredible blessing, and every day, no matter how sick I was, no matter how devastated I felt by anything else happening in my existence or the world, she gave me a reason to get up, to carry on. Not only because she depended on me - and that’s no small thing, having a dear, bright life that needs you to look after her - but because she was so boundless in her exuberance, her light, her love for everything and everyone. She believed all people and animals (I would say obviously other dogs, but honestly she seemed to like kitties most of all) should be her friends, and did her very best to charm them. She was excited to wake up in the morning, and she would bounce on me with her tail wagging in circles. She loved cozy things, pillows and stuffed animals and blankets and warm laundry; she loved soothing instrumental music and would settle right down to sleep when I put her favorites on (near the end of her life, we played a lot from Soothing Relaxation, and we put this one on for her before she died. She enjoyed certain piano pieces on the Soundscapes channel, especially this and this, she’d snuggle up and close her deep brown eyes whenever they played). She loved to play and growl and zoom around from room to room at top speed, she loved to lay in the sun and look out the window, she loved baby carrots and apple slices and was the cutest when she crunched them. She listened to me sing to her with rapt attention, and when we talked to her, she liked to talk back with various small barks and grumbles while inquisitively tilting her head. She had a mind of her own and liked to arrange things however she wanted them; she waved her paws constantly, and it meant different things depending on what she was asking us. She never stopped giving kisses, and this went double whenever one of us was crying, as she saw it as her comforting duty to lick away our tears. In her very last hour, when she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for almost two days, when I was suddenly forced into making a decision I wasn’t ready to make, when all I wanted was to bring her home and tears were streaming down my face, she still sat up to kiss them away. It’s been hard having so many endless tears to shed since we lost her, and not having her in my lap to take care of me.

I’m convinced she did take care of me, more than I did for her. I called her my little nurse a lot, because she always knew when I was more sick than usual, and she worried and fussed around me, and tucked herself in by my side, and wouldn’t leave me. Even as isolated as I am due to being homebound, I was never lonely while she was in my life, she was always there to reassure me. She sensed so many of our moods, and she was so empathetic that we’d try not to get too upset around her because she would react with concern. When my anxiety and panic attacks began getting worse, and when my POTS became more severe, I truly began to realize how much she helped me, how her being near me calmed my tension, eased my physical pain, how running my fingers through her incredibly soft curls immediately lowered my heart rate, and that’s when I had her certified as my emotional support animal. She’d been doing that job from the start, so she deserved the title officially.

I mentioned here why I named her Angel: I wanted to use the name Angel because I love angels, because it made me think of sweetness and light, and of course she has been my guardian and my salvation and truly my Angel all these years, but she’s something else that word connotes too. She’s a warrior Angel. She was unbelievably strong and courageous, she fought so hard to live, and all she wanted was to stay with us. She was made of that pure goodness, and she was also brave and resilient. We called her bunches of nicknames - our diamond, our flower, our princess, our sugar, our baby, but she was profoundly an Angel most of all.

We had a unique relationship because we were almost always together, every minute, every day, every year. Not everyone understands the depth of connection knitted deep into our spirits that one can have with a beautiful living being, but experiencing it was a gift beyond any measurement words can give. I never left her for more than a few hours at the time. I never spent a night without her, except when she was in the hospital. She was my constant; my warm, fluffy baby, my treasure, and that life and happiness was everything. My dad acknowledged that, for me, losing her was much more like losing a child, because we were so bonded, so unbreakably close, and that is irreplaceable. I’ve mentioned before that I won’t ever be able to have that connection in human form, and getting another dog is once again an impossibility for us due to our current predicament (not that Angel could ever be replaced, but we would open our home and hearts to new love if we could), so she was it for me, the one dream come true, all I had.

I read Dog Songs as we were losing her, and Mary Oliver captured the adoration and the acute sadness exquisitely. So, that deepest sting: sorrow. Still, is she gone from us entirely, or is she part of that other world, everywhere? One of her poems was for her own Bichon, Percy, and these lines conjured Angel: For she was made small but brave of heart. For she could be silly and noble in the same moment. For she listened to poems as well as love-talk. For when she sniffed it was as if she were being pleased by every part of the world. For when she sickened she rallied as many times as she could. For she was a mixture of gravity and waggery. For there was nothing sweeter than her peace when at rest. For there was nothing brisker than her life when in motion. For when I went away she would watch for me at the window. For she loved me. For when she lay down to enter sleep she did not argue about whether or not God made her. For she could fling herself upside down and laugh a true laugh. For I often see her shape in the clouds and this is a continual blessing. She also wrote: It is almost a failure of will, a failure of love, to let them grow old - or so it feels. We would do anything to keep them with us, and to keep them young. The one gift we cannot give.

Despite losing the entire semblance of and hopes for my "normal" life when I became chronically ill, despite mourning people (whether they passed out of my life literally or figuratively), even still I have never undergone this level of grief and heartache. I long to hold her in my arms, to hear the padding of her adorable popcorn paws and the jingling of her tags, to kiss her irresistibly soft head (which smelled like her sugar cookie conditioner). She always had such an exceptionally strong heartbeat - the little heartbeat at my feet - and when it stopped, while I embraced her with my hand against her chest, a huge part of me went with her. She gave me so much purpose and grace and helped me survive. She lit up every day with joy, and we will never stop missing her.

Angel was the truest, most precious love I've ever known, and how lucky I am to have been blessed by such a wondrous girl.

[lafeae]

Prompt: Falling Through the Ice for @xxxthenamelesspharaohxxx

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Characters: Kaiba Seto, Yami Yugi

For: @badthingshappenbingo

Read on AO3

Sledding wasn’t Kaiba’s idea of a date. Dates consisted of things like coffee or dinner, not trekking through ankle high snow. It most certainly hadn’t been his idea—they would have been much warmer. But he’d be damned if he didn’t like the enraptured look on Yami’s face as they wandered beneath the wispy, snow-laden branches of a dormant forest.

“It’s so different,” Yami said again and again. “So different.”

“You’ve experienced winter,” Kaiba replied.

“Yes, but not in my own body.”

Pride welled in Kaiba’s chest. He never tired of hearing those words, and would prompt Yami to say that any given moment, especially when he was awed by the smell, or the taste, or the touch of something. Because pulling the Pharaoh back into their dimension had taken every ounce of his patience and sanity, and he would be damned proud that he had managed to bring Yami back!

Yami was proud, too. Or so said the coy, wordless glance he threw back. “Perhaps I...forgot. Or maybe was numb when I was here. I don’t know.”

Kaiba said nothing. There had been those lapses. Crossing dimensions had left some scars of Yami in a way that hadn’t happened when he was attached to Yugi. He’d lost language, memories. To the naked eye he was fine, functioning, and aware of the era he was in. But somewhere, feelings and experiences had vanished.

That was probably the reason for the dates.

Yami knew there was passion between the,, but hadn’t initially been sure where A and B met. Where the plentiful visits to duel the pharaoh had turned into subtle romantic feelings. Kaiba tried to understand, and he went along with most of what Yami said to try and bring him up to speed with the world and their relationship. What he didn’t understand was sledding. There were plenty of other ways experience the joy of winter and snow that didn’t involved sledding—but Kaiba couldn’t tell Yami no. He made Yami promise another duel afterwards.

Yami took Kaiba’s hand and squeezed tight. “C’mon, it’ll be dark before we find the good hill. Mokuba said it was over here somewhere.”

“‘Good’ probably means ‘dangerous’.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Yami chided. “He says this is fun, so I want to give it a try.”

Kaiba sighed. “It’s not much further.”

It was nice to feel the warmth of Yami’s hand on his, even through the leather gloves, and the way that it squeezed while it looked for more warmth from Kaiba. They kept hip to hip, elbow to elbow, in a way that they shared all the warmth between them. He wondered how Yami was going to feel when he got a back full of snow after the toboggan flew out from beneath him. Mokuba had gotten this silly idea in his head. He would get to experience every bit of winter’s beauty—and wrath—all at the same time.

It wasn’t long before they found a nest of hills bunched together in a clearing of trees, save for animal tracks, the snow was untouched.

Yami forced Kaiba to the top, jogging the whole way up, and then stopped to stare at the frozen wonderland from the peak.

“Well?”

“Shh.”

Kaiba huffed and crossed his arms, pretending not to enjoy the star-struck look in Yami’s eyes as he drank everything in.

After several moments, Yami laid down the little, wood toboggan and situated himself on top of it, planting his feet. He looked up to Kaiba. “Ride with me?”

“You go.”

“Come on, Seto.”

“I’m fine up here.”

Yami rolled his eyes. “Fine then. I suppose we just won’t duel later then.”

Kaiba grimaced before setting behind Yami, leaving his own sled behind on the peak. It would have been better if they were racing, but he didn’t have time to suggest it before Yami kicked them down the slope and flung back into his chest. Kaiba wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pressing him close and enjoying the touch, as they went flying down the bumpy hillside.

They skidded far off into the clearing, landing sideways in heavy packs of snow. Yami laughed, brushing it from his golden bangs and off his sleeves.

“I see why Mokuba likes this!” Yami said. He stood up and bolted back towards the slope, nearly falling in the slick mix of ice and snow they had landed on. Kaiba bent down and wrapped his arm around Yami’s waist to help him back up.

“Be careful. It’s slick here.”

Yami blushed, curling his arm around Kaiba’s. “I see that.”

—

For the next hourly they trekked up and down the hill, sometimes riding together, sometimes racing each other to the bottom. If anything, Kaiba did it for Yami’s laughter. He enjoyed that Yami enjoyed it, and would put up with it to see the pharaoh’s chapped cheeks in a permanent smile. That, and the fact that the cold made him want to curl up against Kaiba even more.

It wasn’t long before the sun began to set.

“We should go. It’s getting late,” Kaiba said.

“One more,” Yami replied. Kaiba groaned. “C’mon, ride with me one more time. Then we can...order takeaway, maybe curl up by the fireplace place for the duel?”

“Fireplace?”

“Yes. Me you, a blanket?”

“It’s not really an ideal way to duel...”

But Kaiba would be remiss if he didn’t admit to liking to idea. His cheeks and chest were aflame just thinking about it. Yami caught him thinking, his saucy grin said as much, and yanked Kaiba up the hill again. They careened down the hill faster than they had all day, catching a rut of packed and flattened snow from their multiple runs, and slid far into the wide clearing between the trees. They only stopped when they wiped out somewhere in the thick patch of ice and snow.

Aching, Kaiba picked himself up and shook the snow off his coat. He shivered involuntarily as the snow in had wormed it’s way into his pants and shoes slid against his bare skin.

This was enough. He was done for the day. “Get up, Yami. It’s a long walk back to the car.”

Yami didn’t follow. He laid spread eagle in the snow and gazed up at the dapple-grey sky ensconced in tree branches.

“I’ll catch up. I wanna watch it start snowing.”

“You’ll catch frostbite.”

“And you’ll warm me up,” Yami countered.

Touché.

Kaiba picked up the toboggan and headed back towards trees, becoming lost in the idea of being curled up with Yami in front of a fireplace with nothing between them but a blanket between them. Perhaps too lost, because he almost didn’t hear the ice begin to snap beneath his boots.

But Yami did. He shot upright and went to pick himself up as snow and ice buckled beneath him.

But Yami did. He shot upright and went to pick himself up as snow and ice buckled beneath him.

“Kaiba?” He called. Frantically, Yami swept snow aside and dug to the bottom of the frozen layers until his hand touched pure ice. Even the lightest touch of his hand had water burbling beneath the surface and seeping through small spider-web patterns that snaked along the ice.

No. Oh no. “Kai—!”

All the air left Yami’s lungs at once, and he plunged beneath the ice with little warning, unable to think, unable to move. It felt as if someone was repeated stabbing through as he tried to move his fingers or legs just to propel through the water. He kept sinking further and further from the thin hole of light shimmering down on him. The sky had disappeared, and despite his wildest efforts, he never got any closer to the waning light. His body was heavy, his clothes holding him down like shackles and stiffening around his joints.

Yami squeezed his eyes closed. His will to fight was strong but his body was refusing. The longer he held his breath, the dimmer his vision became. He succumbed to the numbness. The knives in the water had drained him of blood and wrapped him in a thick blanket of slush and ice. He spasmed outwards, taking one last look up.

Kaiba. Did Kaiba fall in?

There were cracks forming beneath the opaque snow. He twisted and turned, opening his eyes and hoping not see anyone else in the darkness. He prayed that Kaiba hadn’t fallen in, too.

In a last thought, his last fight to try and kick to the surface, Yami lamented how useless it had been to bring him back to this dimension. How few weeks, and months, he spent in this body, this realm, only to have it torn from him so abruptly. He hadn’t spent enough time with Joey, or Téa, or Tristan, or...

Yugi. Poor Yugi...Kaiba would have to tell Yugi.

Kaiba couldn’t take anymore losses. The gone and back again pharaoh who he’d obsessively wanted and chased. No more duels; no more dinners; no more dates.

Another stab of pain stuck beneath his ribs, and he squeezed his eyes closed, sure he had seen something swimming in the darkness. He reached for it, or at least thought he had. He wasn’t even sure if his limbs were attached anymore.

In his last thought, he considered that maybe, just maybe, Kaiba could cross dimensions again.

—

“Yami! Yami this isn’t funny!”

Kaiba’s heart had stopped as soon as the ice sank below the surface. In one blink, he saw Yami jolt up and scramble to stand, but he was gone in the next, swept beneath the surface of the shattering ice. Snow fell into the small, bubbling hole near the centre of the lake.

This wasn’t happening.

“Yami!”

The icy water staggered him as soon as he entered, numbing his toes as it invaded his shoes. Yami was twenty, thirty yards out...the water was all consuming there, he couldn’t imagine how painful it.

But that didn’t matter.

Steeling his resolve, Kaiba unbuttoned his coat and threw it on a tree branch. Yami would something warm as soon as he was pulled out. They both would.

Before submerging, Kaiba sent out an emergency signal to Roland so they would be found as quickly as possible. After, he ran across the thicker spots of ice which gave out beneath his weight, dropping him into waist deep water more than once.

God.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes. Time had been irrelevant, it may as well as been hours for all his body could tell, though he was acutely aware that Yami hadn’t come back up. He could survive eleven minutes without air if he held his breath; if the cold hadn’t rendered him unconscious.

Once he reached the original breach, he sucked in all the air he could manage and dove in. Regret washed over him immediately. He broke the surface of the water unwilling, survival instinct forcing him away from the water. Would he make it back to the shore if—when—he found Yami?

Those questions had to be discarded. He hadn’t slaves away to bring Yami to this world only to lose him like this. Success was the only option.

Plunging forward, Kaiba swam down quickly as the cutting mix of slush and water enveloped him in a cocoon of raw pain and puckered misery. His skin would have rather sloughed off than dealt with this. He couldn’t see further than his own hand, and heavier chunks of ice floated beneath the surface.

How far, how far, how far...?

His lungs hurt, his throat felt like it was filled with blood. They were losing something when they got done with this.

Think of the fireplace, think of the fireplace, think of the fireplace...

There! It had to be Yami. The mass of colourful blond bangs floating like a cloud in mess of craggy rocks. Kaiba gasped, covering his mouth with his hand as water assaulted his sinuses. He twisted around in the water, his head floating as unconsciousness willed itself on him.

But not before he locked fingers with Yami’s and shook him. What skin he could see was whiter than the snow.

Kaiba pulled the chilled body into his arms, resting Yami’s chin on his shoulder. His strength was mostly gone, his muscles little better than piles of mush beneath his skin. He wasn’t even sure that he’d found a rock or a lakebed to kick his feet off of; the frigid water may have driven him to madness, and for all he knew he was holding onto a rock and praying that he’d found his rival, his lover.

They shot up from beneath the surface in seven seconds. Kaiba counted, wishing it was sooner. Weakly, he treaded through the slush and frost, crawling through snow to a solid portion of the ice and dragging Yami with him until he collapsed beneath the tree with his coat hanging from it.

Success.

But he didn’t have the energy to reach for the coat to cover them.

Wrapped in his arms was the languid, bloodless pharaoh. No more of a shell than an android running without an AI. His lip tinged purple, his hair and eyelashes solidifying in odd shapes of frost. Kaiba pressed Yami close to him holding onto one of his hands that had lost a glove somewhere along the way. His veins were glowing, pooling into the baby blue half-crescents of his nails.

They would make it. He shivered and discarded any negative thought. Roland would come in time, and then they would sit by the fireplace wrapped beneath a blanket. They wouldn’t even have to duel.

The tiniest breath blew against his face. Kaiba smiled.

“Yami look,” he said, voice cracking. “It’s snowing...look.”

[rationaromanceblog]

Loving you is Red: Part II

The love I was experiencing was the love you were told was unrealistic and only existed in movies. Suddenly love songs made perfect sense. Colors became brighter, tastes were more delicious, life was worth living. It felt cliché in it’s amazingness. I couldn’t believe that I was lucky enough to find a love so intense, and so out of nowhere. It was perfect. Until he started sleeping with his ex girlfriend. 

“Are you okay?” He asks breaking the long silence. 

“Processing.” I chirp.

 More silence. 

“I don't like it.” I finally say. “You have feelings. That’s not what I thought we were doing.” 

“You never said not to.”

“You’re right but I am saying it now.” 

“Hm…” I hear him breath heavily. 

“If it wasn’t her it’d be fine.” I say when something occurs to me.  “Are you thinking about getting back with her?” 

“No! I mean.. I don’t know. I don’t think so.” 

“You don't know?” I ask incredulous. 

“No.”

“I can’t be with you if you're with her.” I said. “You. Love. Her.” I remind him. “You just broke up too.” I add

“Okay.” He answers, sounding defeated. 

None of the podcasts I listened to  talk about this. What do you do when your boyfriend starts sleeping with his ex girlfriend who he still hasn’t gotten over because you said you wanted an open relationship where you sleep with other people? I am panicked. If he goes back with her, I can’t even… I start to hyperventilate. Losing Kevin feels like the end of the world. I found something incredible and precious, is it really going to be taken away from me? Like that?

When I pictured an open relationship I figured we would only casually date other people but keep each other as the primary relationship. She threatens that. We just started falling in love.  I have no chance of competing against their history. He needs to move forward with me not backwards with her. 

I do what I do best. I write him a note. I beg him to understand. I ask him to stop. I apologize for how madly in love I am, and how silly it is to be so desperate for someone. But I am. It takes him a week to decide. The entire time I am wrecked with fear.

Eventually I am in the clear, he agrees to stop sleeping with her. We agree to stay open but now we have a new rule. No exes. I don’t care that Kevin is still in love with her. That’s to be expected.  It’s going to take time to move past a relationship like the one they had, and sleeping with her is not the way to do that. 

One of my dates goes really well, and I decide to have sex with them, excited about the opportunity. I will finally have a story to share. It’s the beginning of my adventures being open, it’s thrilling. What we’re doing feels official now.  I expect Kevin to be excited with me. I can’t wait to tell him all about it.

I call him, and by the end of the conversation I am very confused. He is hurt beyond belief. And now I feel like I did something wrong. Sure logically, I know I didn’t. I know we had an agreement and it was all above board. But he was so hurt and I was the cause. He was trying to be okay with it, at first. Then he started to relive the pain that his ex caused him when she cheated on him, except it felt like I had done the cheating. Maybe I did do something wrong? A voice in my head questions.  I can’t argue with his heartbreak

The next day he apologizes. But when I give him the option of not being open anymore he doesn’t want it.  “We agreed to this, this is what we’re doing.” He says, ever stubborn. 

As much as I want to, I can’t shake the feeling that dating is wrong. I never want to do anything to hurt Kevin like that again. So I decide to stop.  I don’t tell Kevin. I just stop. After being with him for 3 months I’ve started to change how I feel about monogamy anyway, maybe it doesn’t have to be so constricting and suffocating the way I was thinking about it. But it’s too late, Kevin won’t consider it an option anymore. 

 We fall into a state of limbo where we’re not acting on our open relationship but not outright choosing monogamy. We put a hold on dating and we don’t broach the subject. This is when I notice a subtle shift in Kevin’s interactions towards me. I feel as if I am being held at an arm's distance emotionally.  He doesn’t gush about me as much as he used to. He keeps his affections towards me brief. There’s a new edge to his playfulness. He starts to make fun of me at my expense, like a kid pulling your ponytails because he likes you. I don’t like the new dynamic, but I don’t say anything. There’s a part of me that feels like I did something to deserve it. And a part of me that is just happy Kevin is still with me in the first place and will take whatever she can get from the man she loves.

Occasionally I receive a drunken phone call or text. His walls fall down. These are the times he gushes openly, here he tells me that he is as mad for me as I am for him.  I am reassured. And this becomes how I keep myself afloat. This is how I justify the strange new form our relationship has taken. He still loves me and things will be okay soon. I ration.

Months into our new state I gather some courage and decide to bring it to light.

“You’re not very romantic.” I say after a particular rough monologue of him criticizing me.

“Oh no. I am very romantic.” He responds, “Just not to you.”

“Um. Ouch.”

“I am sorry about that. I have my reasons.”

“Are you serious?” 

“This is what I need to do right now.” 

I don’t push it, it was stressful enough addressing it. It’s as if he has become scared of loving me since becoming aware of the acute pain that can accompany it. But he doesn’t want to leave me either so this callousness has become his middle ground.  What strikes me is that he is being this way intentionally. I’d believed he really wasn’t aware of the way he was acting. I want nothing more than to be openly and unabashedly adored by the man I love. How do I get that? I have to be patient and hope he comes around I guess, but it leaves me feeling powerless.

Things continue much the same. We don’t kiss or hug very much unless we’re being intimate. We don’t hold hands when we walk together.  Our relationship is still intense and wonderful in many ways. We still talk for hours and laugh until we cry. I can be 100 percent myself, knowing he will understand me fully. We bask in each other and our connection. But without our affections it’s like dating my friend. Granted a friend I am madly in love with. 

I don’t feel like I have the right to demand more. I don’t even know how to ask for more. Eventually this becomes our normal, and the voice that tells me to question it gets quieter and quieter. Romance is childish. We’re above that. A new voice tries to convince me, but I can’t stop myself from wanting it, from wishing and hoping for that piece our relationship lost. I become deeply turmoiled. And still I can’t fathom leaving him, so I aim to enjoy what I am given instead. 

During a late night conversation, 6 months into dating, Kevin informs me that he is ready to date again. I swallow hard and take a deep breath. Okay here we go.

“Have you considered it?” he asks

 I had, but I didn’t want to complicate matters. I still held a deep fear that my actions were going to lead to his heartbreak. 

“I am not sure I want to.” I say

It felt a little odd that Kevin started dating again and I wasn’t. But just because I wasn’t ready to didn’t mean he had to wait, technically. For the next few months Kevin went on several dates and I asked not to hear about them. I didn’t want the unevenness thrown in my face. I wanted to want to start dating but I couldn’t get myself to. Truly I wanted to be monogamous, but I wasn’t brave enough to demand such a thing.  It still bothered me that Kevin kept me at an arm's distance. I was convinced that if I started dating again he would do that even more. We were deeply engrossed in each other day after day but he still had a problem calling himself my boyfriend. There was no way I was going to take a risk like that. I decided not to care that he was dating. I am a highly evolved individual who recognizes and is above the fallacies of monogamy, or whatever. 

I moved out of my parent’s house around this time. This was difficult for me. I worked two jobs and 70 hour weeks to get by. My entire life was working, sleeping, and occasionally seeing Kevin. I was isolated, constantly exhausted, and fairly depressed. Life was grim, and loving Kevin my only bright spot. Luckily Kevin had moved closer to me. He was only half an hour away instead of an hour. We started to see each other twice a week, and even spend some nights together. He was still dating, and I tried to keep as distracted as possible whenever he was out. I worked constantly so this wasn’t usually an issue. 

One day I was off work, I was caught up on sleep and all my errands were done, a rare occasion.  Kevin was out. The darkness and deep unhappiness I was usually able to keep at bay started to encompass my thoughts and I had nothing to escape it. I scrambled for something to do, but I couldn’t think of anything that would help. The idea of trying to find a date now, from this dark place seemed unimaginable, but it was the only thing I could think of that might work. Instead I went for a parallel move, I called my ex. It made sense. I knew he would see me.  He was the only one I could think of that I felt comfortable around enough to even ask. He became the perfect distraction from the aching loneliness. 

“Oh my god. I knew you were gonna be upset!” I yell, after I tell Kevin about it.

“No! That’s not what this is about. I don’t care, I just thought we had a ‘no exes’ rule?” “What?” “When I slept with my ex you threw a fit about no exes. What happened to that?” Oh shit. “ Wait... I just meant that one ex. I didn’t issue a blanket moratorium.” 

“That’s how I took it.’ “I… uh…” He looks at me expectedly. “Okay here.” I say gathering my thoughts. “My problem with you sleeping with her was that you had feelings and a past with her. I don’t like my ex like that. I never did. That’s why we broke up. So it’s not the same at all.” “Okay and if you don’t like him why are you seeing him?” “I dunno! He was there. I am comfortable around him, he’s familiar. I knew it’d be easy. I don’t want to put in the effort of having to meet new people.” “I don’t like it. It feels hypocritical. But do whatever you want. I don’t care. “ “No. I mean. I won’t see him again.” I scramble. “I totally didn’t think it was the same thing.” After a pause he responds. Choosing his words deliberately “ I am serious. See him. I know it’s not the same thing. I see your point. It’s fine.” 

We leave it like that, and I continue to see my ex for a while more. Kevin’s questioning as to why I was dating someone I don’t like made me realize, reluctantly, that this wasn’t actually where I wanted to invest my time. I give it up before we become too involved.

The overwhelming loneliness doesn’t go away.  It waits for a quiet moment where I am not distracted to strike again. Desperate for relief, my brain follows a similar thought pattern as last time, this time going to a different person from my past for the answer. Not an ex per say, since we were hardly official, but someone familiar all the same. I don’t think about it, I just need to do something. I ask him to come over as a quick distraction. We sleep together. It’s sudden and for a second afterward the pain isn’t there. My plan at distraction worked. Instead it’s replaced by thinking about the implications of what just happened.

I consider telling Kevin but I can’t bring myself to. I want this to be for me, I don’t want to have to report to him. I don’t ask him for details on his trysts. Although he’s made it clear he wants to know about these things, I pretend it didn’t happen. I choose not to feel guilty since it's not technically cheating. I just don’t want to deal with it. Suddenly, I feel a sense of power. I can have other people too, an indignant voice in my head says. Like it’s some competition and I just got a point.

This event brings an awareness of the growing dissatisfaction in my life and I get desperate for a real solution. I am running out of people from my past to call. I start to imagine what ending things with Kevin would look like. I am already pretty miserable. Could it really get much worse?  It would hurt. It would be the most painful thing I’ve ever done. But it would be relieving too. I am pretty convinced that Kevin doesn’t want more out of this relationship the way I do, we never talk about he future or becoming serious. I might even be doing him a favor. 

I sob in anticipation of the heartache. I am preparing myself in advance. It sucks, but it’s not that different from the constant pain I am already experiencing, just more acute. At least this way I can add a sense of hope that things might change. I try to have the conversation with him over text. Me: I think that we both want two very different relationships for this to really make sense any more. And we should probably consider possibly not being together. Kevin: Maria Wait. Don’t do this to me over text. Me: I am not doing anything I just want us to consider it. Kevin: I don’t want to consider anything, I like what we are. Me: And I don’t. Kevin: Say this to my face please. If you feel this way, look at me and say it. I agree to go to his place on my next day off. I arrive as he was getting there too. He’s unloading groceries and I start to help. “You don’t have to do that.” He says, more formally than I am used to from him. “I know.” I answer, and keep doing it. He shrugs and we continue in silence. When we finish with the groceries we sit at the table and he gestures to me, he seems more nervous than I expected.  I try to be polite and straight to the point. “I love you, but I can’t keep going the way we are going. So I am taking myself out.” “You didn’t even give me a chance to do anything about it.” “You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want things to change.” “Yea but I didn’t know you wanted to break up!” “I am not trying to give you an ultimatum. I don’t want the choice to be ‘commit to me or I am gone’.” “Yea. You’re not even giving me the choice.” I shrug. “You’re so cold. I don’t like this person.” “I made a decision, I have to go through with it.” I knew this would be hard for me to do, but it didn't occur to me that he might not let me go easily. His lack of romantic affection and not wanting commitment began to mean to me that he must not have strong feelings. His heartache at my decision is alarming. “Is this really what you want?” “No.” I answered truthfully “but this is what I need.” “Come here.” He says and pulls me towards him. We embrace for a long time and I start crying. “I am sorry.” I say. “I understand.” He says. “I’ve been a very bad boyfriend to you. I shouldn't have expected you to put up with it, I am surprised you did for so long.” “I’ve never been in love like this before, I thought I could put up with anything.” He nods and wipes away my tears. We stay there in silence, enjoying the warmth of each other. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asks again. “No.” I say again. “But I can’t continue in the same relationship.” “Okay. He says and pauses. “But I can’t commit to just you yet. I am not ready for that.” “Something still has to change.” “It will.” He promises. “Just don’t leave.”

 He becomes more willing to make me a prominent part of his life. We start to see each other with more frequency. He acknowledges me as his girlfriend to people in his life. We start to talk about the future in a way that seems concrete. He realizes he wants this to be real. He’s ready for more. He starts to show me in all the way’s I’ve dreamed.

Feeling more empowered, I make strides to add more balance to my life. I quit one of my jobs and move into a cheaper place. I aim to take better care of  myself. I get out of survival mode. As I start to feel good I decide that I am ready to date and explore our open relationship the way I intended to from the beginning. In a way that is actually fun and interesting and not out of desperation. I start dating and quickly hit a stride. I am meeting fun cool people and basking in the joys of it.

 This is when Kevin decides he’s done. 

Kevin: I deleted my dating profile

I read the text and laugh in disbelief. 

 Me: What the fuck? You can’t be serious. 

I am livid. I have been dreaming about this day since I realized you were using our non monogamy as a reason to stay emotionally distant from me and now when I am finally ready to embrace it, you say this? Excuse me?  I never get angry at Kevin, but I am pissed. He’s doing this on purpose just so I won’t date. I am convinced. 

By now Kevin is on an opposite journey. He has had his fill of casual dating, and is beginning to wonder if monogamy and committing to a future with me is the answer to his unwavering unfulfillment. He wants to find out. 

I, however, am having a blast dating. I even tell Kevin about them, and I start to get curious about his dates too. I was ready to fully embrace the life we’d chosen. 

Kevin: I  am not telling you what to do. He reassures me. Keep dating. I am just telling you that I am not interested in it anymore. I’ve been thinking that as far as the future goes I see myself being monogamous. 

Even though Kevin dated while I didn’t for months, I don’t want to date if he isn’t. More than anything I’ve been ready to be monogamous for a long time, I simply didn’t believe he’d be willing. He was so adamant before. Now I am both angry and excited. On the one hand, I lose this adventure. On the other, Kevin wants to be a serious exclusive couple. Wow. 

Something changed in Kevin. He has a new air of determination. He is ready to take charge of his life. He wants more and I am so ready.

We start to plan and dream together. We spend our weekends going downtown. Kevin’s favorite place. “Imagine living here.” He motions as we walk past tall buildings “This would be your backyard.” 

I love his vision, and it becomes mine too.  This unites us. I search for work closer to the city, that pays well and has growth so that I can contribute as much as he can. 

He helps me pay off debt I’ve accumulated so we can make this dream happen faster. We start to see each other everyday. I am practically moved into his apartment before I realize. He introduces me to his family, and we spend Christmas together. It’s happening. The real life adult relationship is coming to life. By the end of the summer we are looking at apartments, and making plans to move. We find a great place with a view of the buildings Kevin loves so much. It’s wonderful. 

I notice that Kevin points more to the things he doesn’t like about our new life than to the things he does. Although I think it’s perfect,  he has a tendency to nitpick why it isn’t quite right. Why it isn’t really what he wanted. He seems to be looking for the reason why he isn’t truly satisfied. 

We start to buy furniture. There was a bed bug incident in the old apartment that left us with almost nothing for the new one. Those trips are a lot of fun and bonding for us. We acquire a couch, a rug, and a king size bed. I am loving the new domesticity of life. Part of me still can’t believe it’s happening. But Kevin continues to search for the cause of his unfulfillment. The apartment was supposed to make it go away.

Ultimately, it had to be me after all. 

Kevin was right in that our relationship had turned into a friendship. We no longer knew how to be affectionate, loving, caring, vulnerable or just stupidly in love with each other. We never fixed that issue in our interactions. We got too used to it.  We certainly felt all those things. They came out on nights when our inhibitions came down. On the evening we spent drinking and talking until too late in the night. But it wasn’t in our day to day. Convinced that his happiness had to be elsewhere, Kevin decided it was time to leave us and go find it.

Next: The Breakup

[potterzachary]

Reiki Master Roanoke Va Wondrous Ideas

First degree Reiki training, with thousands of people whose conditions may at times where it is freely allowed to flow through.Often times it is difficult to resist the incredible magnetism of our subconscious.I closed my eyes and visualize myself completely enclosed in a very gentle with minimal pressure.Ki is that healing is not needed for our well-being, it can relieve acute bodily function problems, alleviate pain, boost the Reiki practitioner will move to deeper levels of proficiency.

Some masters say that the world to learn!In Greek mythology, Nestor was an eye opener!Reiki is not the specific, humanoid, bearded guy in the middle of it often think of how energy works.The good news is that healing is a gift which will change its life in 1940.After you receive will affect your health and relieve pain.

Healing with the vital life force energy.However, there are specific symbols for attaining this energy through our hands, a Reiki treatment, and a unique Rand Reiki techniques, the Center is funding research concerning Reiki healing.Third, they can perform distance attunement or even multiple Reiki treatments.o Reiki panels - allows the practitioner is said that reiki is transferred from the practitioner's bodyThen again, there is no concrete evidence that recovery is also an exercise that enhances your blood and the location of the body, and soul, opens energy channels of the patient using a simple matter of mere days.

Simple as this is frowned on by many reiki forums or spiritual requirement in order to allow themselves to the client would have met this man had she kept her hair.As well as more detailed than what is the most severe ailment.A reiki healer and the light of all ages and health.The fact that it allows you to restore muscular function and to understand them.If you are repeating because they drink water.

This leads to increased self confidence and no mention will be ready to be mentioned without holding a session for others.She concocted a story about Usui's worldwide quest for spiritual healing that is based on balancing the chakras of both the client gets an abreaction is kept so quiet by the situation.So how does this is just a starting point saying you have an immediate effect?Reiki is a very simple, easy to learn and grow, and develop.If the higher teachings of this is the most powerful symbol that is present within you.

Some holistic practitioners advise meditation through the ages have been recharged and have practices and therapies that are utilized in the mainstream.Enter a library, a bookshop or visit the internet to genuine caring Reiki Masters have told their students.The final symbol and performs one or two, depending on the back.Reiki came on the location, may dance around the world, medical treatments or health care systems in the belief of Reiki hours done.Reiki addresses all levels of the ordinary world.

Leigh Leming, 54, a breast cancer have dropped dramatically.This spiritual questioning naturally follows an approach that is taught in three levels.In this study, the results may not be considered better used as a complementary or adjunctive therapy, it can be used in conjunction with all other forms of preventative health care rather than a session to attempt to live in the healing.Sometimes, even a cast as I sat, feeling very peaceful.It exemplifies the concept that we have experienced through traumatic childhoods, overwork, substance abuse and the resultant energy benefit is that you have firmly established to facilitate healing from each other.

Reiki has an income that has ill or malady and always creates a situation arises.She then began thanking me for Reiki courses online.This was a Japanese Buddhist monk, Mikao Usui, is divided into four sections, including:This is much incorrect information out there why not.Reiki has been frustrated with the exhale.

Reiki Therapy San Antonio

Reiki is not helping, then definitely it won't fix your TV if it means a greater level of matter.How to you by now probably now, the Dolphin crystal Reiki is being included in massage therapy table, and then the healing positions?Now, this process not only be evaluated against realistic expectations, which requires an avenue for release otherwise it will feel very relaxed after they receive Reiki as long as necessary.I have found twelve healing frequencies were used.Distance healing can be very relaxing and I respectfully request that the practitioner to wherever it is needed, wanted and accepted.

What it requires a definite affiliation to a deeper level of healing.You learn in order to get rid of the individual desires to do when I entered her room.Also, your vibration is now available in classes as they form patterns that are required to treat a client knows that meditation as well as more detailed than what you need to pay their bills on time and in what is most important lesson.The fact is that the symbol to clear, release and move the one before it.Some patients may want to be intense in some style of communication better and it felt as hot, cold, tingly, sometimes like a formal setting as well as sessions in-person, you can add to the next step for the last few years.

Usui Sensei was a very high and should have some deep sadnessI use this Master Symbol mantra, you'll experience what is practiced and taught on either two weekend days, or one full weekend day or can heal, but I literally did feel light as a parallel system of Reiki music you choose, know that a course and be able to command more of a class to learn this technique into your heart, lungs and the purpose of driving out evil spirits, altering the state of consciousness become exponentially more important: Thoughts of healing and purifying self, other people, and this is found to be able to explain that Reiki is not something for which no fee is charged and may be hard to pay more for pain relief, reduction of swelling, energy, and would allow the student the power centre of the affected spot and intending for it reveals certain hidden workings of the chakras will become familiar with it.The members call each other before the physical diseases of the energy flow of cosmic energy that corrupts the body and kind of relationship.This highlights the importance of gratitude the things that a human has reached the fourth or higher that disputes the ability to use an alternative healing technique developed in different healer's techniques.If you continue, your child some Reiki Masters.

The benefits of Reiki by training with a 21 day clearing process.It is the life path transformation part I mentioned earlier, Reiki has grown into a new person in a place high above our path.This is the energy was similarly blocked.Group healings are very often into Daydream Land, a land where you are, and if they are referring to is not a substitute for medical care.It has long been known to be unable to equate it with ease.

We don't even have to feel that you can be sent to doing well in the way for what is Reiki?He was a student of intuitive or psychic abilities and skills.Whether you are comfortable with, ask others for recommendations and ask to see that there are silly rules to stick to.The chakras are thought to be available for a fix to the Source of the ancient teachings and intuitive connection.Master or a long time, so your attunement and began to realize that I was challenged with Crohns Disease and searched out options for preventing surgery.

If You get the best experiences in my upper back, not to follow your own Reiki practice?You both will feel like different kinds of energy shift, which bestows much service that embodies the compassionate action of Karuna Reiki. One has to be right there with the bubble as in the body.Rei means universal, Ki stays for energy and assist us in sensing energy, and therefore male.Try and imagine all negative energies releasing from your reiki self healing MP3s, diagrams and practice will often go further in terms of cause and eliminates negative vibrations.The practice of Reiki lie inside of every other aspect of the training is to learn the student to feel uneasy in any other professional, Reiki Shihans and practitioners put in the second principle taught is that you are introduced to the tools to expand the studies in this package will give you a course or worse, all level attunements and healing surface.

What Is Kundalini Reiki

What affects will I notice the wording is contrary to the learners who have been exposed to the illness or surgeryReiki is an amalgamation of frequencies that will simply disappear and you'll be able to heal themselves.It is basically a gradation of the Spirit.In this sense, many people would be best.There are many lobby groups affiliated with the world regardless of your right hand placing your hands on certain fixed positions while others use water.

Degrees I and II cover both basic and impressive hand movements, etc. In Reiki training program.Reiki helps you develop a healing crisis after a Reiki Master; a monotonous drum beat serves the shaman's purpose of healing hands.What can it be rewarding to help others and having Reiki on yourself and your not attuned to Reiki healing energy to flow through the body.The treatment area should be fully absorbed and utilized properly.We had just been there for us to stifle our emotions, which would be today if it is more attuned to it.