#he wouldn't be where he is today without the support he's received

[mrinafria]

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

[w4w4lycsss]

VKS try to sabotage castle coming but the reader eats the cupcake instead and Hook is the only one to care enough to check on you

PINK MAKEUP | JAMES HOOK

summary: you are very positive for a VK and you fall for the prank that Uliana planned for Bridget, with Hook being the only one who cares to know if everything is in order pairing: James Hook x gn!royal!reader warning: panic attacks, insecurities, teasing, social pressure, social anxiety a/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT I LOVE RECEIVING REQUESTS ❤

You were really very happy and excited about the dance, even though you weren't invited, maybe it wasn't so much because of the dance itself but because you had a splendid outfit that you were going to show off. You really cared about your physique.

One day before the dance, you were in your room trying out the possible hairstyles you would do once you were in your costume. You were leaning on your mirror table when someone knocked on your door.

"Happens." You said calmly, your tranquility being interrupted by the VK group without Uliana; Morgie, Hades, Maleficent and Hook.

Maybe I didn't say it but you were part of their group, even though you were part of royalty, you were very good at manipulating and you used your physique to your advantage, but you were a good person in everything.

“Sorry for arriving unannounced.” Maleficent announced without much importance as she entered your room.

“Oh, Mali, it's good that you came!” You downplayed what she said, moving closer to her. “Can you help me with my hair?”

“Are you still excited about dancing?” Hades asked.

“Yes, it's really going to be a great night.” You answered confidently as the only girl in the room ran her hands through your hair in thought.

"You have a couple?" Morgie asked innocently as he grabbed your things without permission. You shake your head. “Hook, you should invite them.” He whispered not so quietly.

Luckily for both of them, you were too focused on Maleficent's recommendations to hear what they were saying.

“No, you know I wouldn't have a chance.” He responded in the same whisper, only lower.

Hook let out a soft sigh of resignation, watching you carefully as you spoke excitedly with Maleficent and melting every time you smiled or made faces that were too adorable in his opinion. Morgie tapped him on the shoulder to stop him from looking so attentive and to at least hide his obvious infatuation.

Maleficent was standing behind you as you sat on your vanity chair, combing your hair and placing pins where needed so it would hold until the end of the night. You smiled as you looked at your hairstyle.

“I love it!” You turned around, standing up and hugging her. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing, if I spent one more moment near Uliana planning today’s prank I was going to go crazy.”

“Don’t worry.” You took her hands. “Are the boys ready yet?”

“Do you want to go with them?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, nevermind.” You rolled your eyes a little.

“Come on, we have to be with them at the time of the prank.” She smiled mischievously and laughed somewhat sinisterly, taking your hand and leaving the room.

It was a shame you didn't notice the kind of look Hook gave you when they arrived with the rest of VK, he looked so absolutely in love that Hades had to hit him so he wouldn't start drooling in front of everyone.

Hades and Maleficent were going to be together, Morgie was going to eat, Uliana was going especially for the joke and Hook and you were wasting their time, plus him. You were determined to flirt with someone who would invite you to dance and show off how splendid you looked.

Two hours had passed, the night was threatening and boring for those who didn't do anything special, like you now. You were sitting on one of the benches in the place, you had already let down your hair and played with the hair clips in your fingers and your tired look. You felt the disappointment caress your skin, making you think about leaving. Maybe you should.

You began to walk towards the exit, dodging people regardless of what they answered or how they reacted. Unfortunately, a few meters from the exit you stole a cake from someone's hand, you didn't care to see who it was because of how bad you felt about yourself.

You took a bite of the cake, feeling nauseous almost instantly. You threw the food on the ground, raising your hand to your mouth to cover it when you felt something gush all over your face, when you looked at your hands you saw how it was dyed an unpleasant green color.

You felt even worse, seeing how the people who had noticed your physical change surrounded you wanting to know what was happening, some laughing loudly.

Your world was collapsing, running to the exit and pushing those who crossed your path, reaching the outskirts and running even more in search of a fountain; the magic water was supposed to help you. You submerged your head and then your whole body, coming out completely soaked but returning to normal.

Wasn't it enough?

You broke down in tears, sitting on the edge of the fountain with your hands on your face and your elbows resting on your knees. The little makeup you had put on had fallen off, your outfit was wet and your hair was tangled.

Not far from where you were sitting you heard someone running in your direction; high heel boots clicking on the floor.

“Y/N!”

“Leave me alone, James.” You reproached, lowering your hands from your face but not looking up.

“Please, I came to see if everything was okay.”

“Do I look okay?” You answered suddenly, looking up at him with a frown.

He gulped, sitting next to you, running a hand close to your face to brush away a damp lock of hair that was blocking your vision, putting it behind your ear so it wouldn’t get in your way.

“Absolutely. You look so gorgeous.” He sighed in love, wishing he hadn’t confessed that out loud. He cleared his throat and tried to say something different. “You weren’t supposed to eat that cupcake, it was for Bridget. We’ll find another way to humiliate her, okay? Trust me.”

“Do you think I look gorgeous?” You placed a hand on your chest nervously.

The words caught in his throat when he noticed you had heard him, sighing shakily. He placed his good hand on yours, removing it from your chest.

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, absolutely perfect and divine. There will never be anyone like you, you looked beautiful today, you still look good but…wet.” He let out a laugh and kept a smile.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, concluding when he took off the suit jacket he was wearing to put it over your shoulders.

“What was that?”

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m still wet.”

“That’s why you can keep it.” He smiled softly, leaning towards you and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

That night, he walked you to your room to make sure no one mentioned what happened at the dance, threatening anyone who came near you with his hook. You let him into your room, keeping you comfortingly company while you regained your stability, leaning on his chest as you listened to him say how in love he was with you.

[lanassgirlll]

I so can u do a smut for Klaus.

Where he is on rut and is very horny but does not want reder to help him .

This goes very time when it's his that time of the month.

But now when he is again in rut and his wolf is more agressive because it's blood moon .

Reder convinces him to use her as his fuck toy to help him in his rut .

So we all know klaus is a rough sex of a guy now multiply it with 100000000 .

Yes he fucks reader in that kind of way and usees her as his toy without caring about her .

If u are not comfortable with this it's ok to say no .

Red sky

Klaus Mikaelson x Female Reader

Summary: Whenever there’s a full moon, Klaus always gets more aroused than he usually does around his girlfriend. No matter how many times she offers to help him, he always refuses, too afraid that he’d hurt her. But one night, when there’s a blood moon, a rare natural occurrence, he finally gives in and uses his girl just like she had said he can do.

Warnings: angst, smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, hair pulling, a little bit of choking?, oral (m receiving), let me know if i have missed anything, because i'm pretty sure that i have

Words: 3k

AN: I really hope you guys like this! Let me know if you have any requests.

Enjoy!

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Klaus was waiting for his girlfriend to come home and let her know that he's leaving for the night. There was going to be a full moon tonight and he usually left his girl alone for a day or two every month. He didn't like being away from her, but now when he was a hybrid, he had to make sure he wouldn't hurt her by being near her when his wolf wanted to come out.

He didn't turn often, but still he had to stay away. The sweet girl who he loved more than anything, always huffed and puffed whever he had to leave, saying that he didn't have to. She always says that she can protect herself if he did in fact try to hurt her, which she knew he's never do, but Klaus didn't trust himself enough to believe that. She was a powerful witch so if needed, she would protect herself, but Klaus never gave in. She always offered him her help and her support, yet she was always left disappointed, feeling like the hybrid didn't want her even though he had explained his reasons to her many times.

Klaus would always have his emotions even more hightened whenever a full moon came. His anger would be slighty worse than it usually is, his temper just as much. He'd get aggresive even, at times. But the worst thing of it all was how aroused he'd get around his girl whenever it was a full moon. He knew if he let go, and took her the way he needed, he'd hurt her.

It's not like they haven't tried before.

They had been together for two years. She's always helped him and been there for her, so it naturally hurt her when he started pushing her away and leaving every month. A few months after Klaus had broken his curse, the witch had finally convinced him to let go. And when he did, it didn't take long before he'd stop his actions with her. He could see that she was struggling with how rough he was being. He hated himself for hurting her and after that had happened, he never did it again.

Klaus looked over at the door, hearing his girl closing the front door of the house they now shared. He quickly stood from the bed and listened to her steps as she was making her way to their room.

Opening the door, she saw him standing in the middle of the room and smiled softly. She put her bag down on the small table next to the door and slowly made her way over to him.

''Hey Nik, I've missed you today.''

He was just stood there, hands behind his back without saying anyhting, already feeling himself get aroused just by looking at her. She wasn't even wearing anything revealing, since it was cold outside. The outfit she had on was a simple pair of black jeans and a puffy jacket. What was under it was a mystety for Klaus.

Before the witch could wrap her arms around him for a hug, he took a step back and took a deeo breath before speaking up.

''Tonight's a full moon. A blood moon actually.''

The girl frowned a little and put her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

''I know that. Does it- mean anything different for you?''

Klaus clenched his jaw, his anger rising for no reason. She had done nothing wrong and yet he was already angry?

''You're a witch. You're supposed to know, aren't you?''

She was a little taken back by his sudden anger and sighed, making her way over to the bed and sitting down at the edge where Klaus had been sat before she came in.

''Yes, I am a witch, and yes, I know about the blood moon. However, I'm afraid I don't know why you are anrgy with me all of a sudden, Nik.''

Klaus tried his best to control himself before he spoke up again.

''Then you know that it makes it worse for me tonight. You know I have to leave.''

Looking down at her feet, she sighed again. She was tired of his excuses about hurting her whenever it was a full moon.

''I do know that too, Nik. But it's not just hard for you. You know how much I hate sleeping alone, not knowing if you're safe and okay, but yet you leave me anyway just because you're too selfish.''

Realising what she had just said, the girl looked up at him and let a small shaky breath escape through her lips.

''I'm sorry, I didn't mean-''

Before she could finish her sentence, Klaus was stood in front of her, looking down at her with anger in his eyes.

''I'm selfish?! I've told you a thousand times, that I only want to keep you safe. I leave you, so I don't hurt you! How does that make me selfish?''

The witch has had enough of him. She stood up and glared up at him.

''You hurt me, by leaving me and pushing me away! All this time, all I have wanted was to help you. But you're too fucking stubborn to let me do it. I am not fragile Niklaus, I can keep protect myself and you know that damn well!''

Klaus was surprised by her outburst. She rarely yelled or got anrgy with him. In all honesty, whenever she got angry, he found it hot. And that just made the situation worse.

''You offer your help by offering your body.''

''Yes, because I know it is what you need, yet you deny and push me away.''

''Do you not remember the last time I accepted your help? Let me remind you, it did not end well.''

Clenching her jaw, she pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him back a little.

The second he felt her hand against his chest, he grabbed her wrist and pushed her down on the bed, making her fall down on her back.

''Niklaus what the hell?! Just let me help you, idiot. Stop being to damn tough all the time, I am your girlfriend for the love of God!''

The girl was back on her feet in the matter of seconds, looking up at him again. She knew he was angry, yet he was scared for her. She could see it in his eyes. She had also noticed the way his face reddened just the slightest bit when she touched his chest, she could see the way he looked at her. Hunger. That was what she saw in his eyes. He wanted her, she knew that, they both knew it. But he was scared, trying so hard to hold himself back from just giving in and taking what he wants.

''Nik... baby, please. I can see how hard you are trying to hold back. I've told you a million times that it's okay if you need me. You can do what you want.''

Klaus swore he heard a crack by clenching his jaw so hard. He craved her. He wanted to ruin her, to leave his marks all over her body, to take her over and over again until she begged him to stop.

''You don't know anything, love. You think you do, but you don't.''

The witch smiled softly at him and moved her hands up, gently putting them over his shoulders. She wasn't going to let him leave this time.

''Then show me. Tell me. Or simply just do it. I know how much you want to fuck me, Klaus, you're not hard to read when you're horny. Like now. You're giving it all away.''

Feeling her hands on his shoulders, he took a deep breath and stared at her. He knew what he wanted but the only thing going through his mind was the thought of hurting her. No matter how much he needed her, he had to stay away.

''I don't want to hurt you. This blood moon it- just makes it so much worse. If i give in now, I won't be able to stop until I've gotten what I need. You're human, love, you can't take all that. I'm scared I might actually break you.''

Sighing a little, she moved her hands away and slowly took off her jacket, showing that she was wearing yet another simple blouse under it. Putting it to the side, she looked up at him once again and drew in a breath.

''I can take anything you give me. I am not fragile, I'm not made out of glass. The one time we did this, I was only too worried for you that I couldn't focus enough, I was lost in my thoughts and that is why I started crying, but not because you hurt me. You could never do that.''

The witch slowly pushed her hand under his shirt, gently trading the pads of her fingers over his torso while looking him straight in the eyes. He had to give in, this time she knew he would.

Taking a deep breath, Klaus looked down at where her hand had disappeared under his shirt. He loved the feeling of her warm skin pressed against his. And at that moment, he snapped. He couldn't hold back anymore, he had to have all of her.

Putting one of his hands on her hip, he vamp sped to the wall, pushing her against it whilst wrapping his other hand around her little neck. Hearing her loud gasp at the sudden movement, he held her tightly and leaned his face closer to hers, their lips just a few centimeters away.

''Fine. You win. But remember that I warned you and now I will only stop once I have taken what I want.''

The girl nodded her head quickly, trying to move forward and kiss Klaus, but his grip around her neck kept her still. Whining quietly, she moved her hands and pulled on his shirt, wanting it off.

''Nik...''

He could hear the desperation in her voice. She craved him just as much as he did.

Finally he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and gently at first before quickly getting more eager. Klaus pushed his tongue inside her mouth, and used the opportunity to slip his hand under her blouse, putting it over her soft tummy, letting out a small groan into her mouth. He slowly pulled away and looked at his girl.

She was out of breath, a dark shade of red creeping up her face as she stared up at him. His hand was still wrapped around her neck and his hand was still under her blouse.

''You are the most beatiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.''

Klaus took his hand out of under her blouse and dragged her to the bed by her neck. He let go of her before turning her around and pushing her down so she was bent over the bed.

The witch loved being manhandled. Having Klaus be so rough with her turned her on so much, she thought she could come just by that. And they were just getting started.

As he was looking down at her, a smirk dancing on his lips, he gently put his hand through her hair before wrapping it around his fist and pulling it back harshly, a small whine leaving her.

''Do you like it when I'm rough with you, love? Hm? I bet you do. I bet that when I strip you of your clothes, you'd be dripping for me already, wouldn't you?''

Turning her head slightly to the side, she tried to look up at him. A small teasing smile took over her face before she spoke up.

''Is this all that you've got?''

He let go of her hair, instead pushing her head back down onto the matress. Slowly taking a step back, he took off his belt and threw it on the ground before unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them off. He didn't want to play games anymore, he wanted to have her.

Klaus then grabbed onto the hem of her jeans and ripped them apart, quickly pulling them off of her. She gasped and tried to look up at him, an anoyed expression on her face.

''Really, Nik?''

He only gave her a smirk in return. He got closer to her again, the bulge in his boxers pressing against her ass. He put his hands on her hips and held them tightly. The girl was sure, that the grip was tight enough to leave bruises on her skin.

''This is your last chance, love. If i start, I will not stop.''

Without saying anything, she pushed herself back, slowly grinding against him and letting out a small teasing moan. That was all that Klaus needed.

The hybrid pulled down his boxers before getting rid of the girl's panties as well. The need to come was the only thing he had in his mind at that moment. He brought his hand up, spitting in it before moving it back down and wrapping it around his cock, pumping himself a few times, a small groan leaving him.

The girl was curious about what he was doing. She tried to turn her head to look at him, but Klaus noticed that and instantly pushed her head back down once again. Before she could protest, she felt him pushing his cock between her dripping folds. She moaned softly and closed her eyes.

Klaus grabbed onto her hips again before slowly pushing inside of her. A moan escaped his lips as he threw his head back.

''Fuck.''

Whining a little, the girl tried to push herself back, needing more of him. She thought that she was just as desperate for this as he was.

''Klaus just do it already!''

He looked at her, his jaw clenching as he gripped her hips tighter. With one quick movement, he bottomed out inside of her, the tip of his cock hitting her cervix. The hybrid heard her cry out but he was too lost at the feeling to care. There was no going back.

Holding her, he started thrusting into her, fast and rough. He has never felt so good while having sex before. Klaus could already feel himself getting closer to the edge, even though he had just started.

Another moan left him. He brought his hand to his girl's ass and slapped it hard, loving the noise she let out at the feeling.

He kept thrusting his cock deep into her, almost pulling all the way out before slamming right back in, his balls rubbing against her clit.

He didn't notice when the witch came all over him the first time, he just kept up his pace, trying to reach his high.

''You're taking me to well. You're my little fuck toy, aren't you?''

He just couldn't help himself. He loved to praise her, knowing how much pleasure it brought to the both of them.

Klaus thrusted a few more times into her, a loud moan leaving him as he threw his head back again, his seed spilling deep into her.

He took a few seconds to calm his breathing before he slowly pulled out and flipped his girl over. She was now looking up at him with a pleading face as she tried to reach her hand down and grad a hold of his cock. He just stared at her, letting her touch him.

''Get off the bed and on your knees. Now.''

She quickly got up from the bed, giving him a small smile before slowly kneeling down into his feet, sliding her hands down his chest as she did so. When she looked at his cock, she was surprised it was still hard but she quickly got to work. She knew what Klaus wanted of her.

She gently wrapped her hand around his thick cock, giving it a few strokes, sliding her thumb over his tip every now and then. Hearing him moan her name under his breath, gave her all the confidence she needed.

The witch stood up a little bit so her face was right in front of his cock. She kept stroking him as she moved her other hand up to cup his balls in it, squeezing them gently.

Klaus looked down at her and groanded.

''You're teasing. I can't be having this right now.''

Moving his hands down, he held her hair back, pushing his cock to her lips. She instantly opened her mouth and mentally prepared herself for what was about to come.

Klaus smirked at her before roughly pushing himself into her mouth, starting to fuck her throat like it was her pussy. He ignored the sound of her chocking and gagging around him, just focusing on his own pleasure. He had never been more selfish in his life, and right now, he loved it.

He kept fuking her throat like his life depended on it. The girl was sure it's hurt days after that but she didn't care. All she cared about was him.

''You're such a good girl, love.''

He groaned and let go of her hair, patting her cheek with his hand whilst looking her straight in the eyes.

''When I come. you're gonna swallow it all like the good little come slut you are, okay?''

She couldn't do anything except just let him keep fucking her throat. When she felt him throb, she knew he was close. The witch felt him moving his hand to the back of her head, pushing it down, making her take his cock balls deep into her mouth as he came once again, spilling his hot seed down her throat.

He held her down for a few seconds after his orgasm had washed over him, making sure she swallowed everything he gave her. Klaus then slowly pulled out of her mouth and wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes with his thumb.

''You did so good, my love, but I am not quite done with you yet. Now get back on the bed.''

AN: This is bad, but it's only like my first try to bear with me, lol.

[misscammiedawn]

Gender, Dissociation and Clinical Stigma - The Third Person

Before I begin I just want to note that typically Media, Myself and I entries are aimed at depictions of dissociative disorders in popular fiction. Today's entry is a graphic novel memoir by a transgender woman with dissociative identity disorder. As it's both not in the public zeitgeist and good representation by virtue of being lived experience of someone who struggled within the mental healthcare system I want to recommend people buy the book (or check it out of their local library). I fully support the artist and want to prop up something good and beautiful.

With that said, let's begin...

CW: therapy abuse

With all the recent hysteria in the US and UK media over transgender healthcare it can be easy to forget the hurdles we all have to climb to receive care. Though Informed Consent is becoming more of a standard practice these days the DSM-5 Criteria for Gender Dysphoria indicates a 6 month requirement for observation before HRT can be prescribed. Many of us needed to jump the hoops of living 6-12 months "in the gender role that is congruent with their gender identity" before we were allowed to begin our gender journey in earnest.

Of course. This requires a clinician (or two for surgical options) to observe this, monitor it and sign off on it. But therapists are humans and are full of prejudice, bias and their own beliefs. They aren't guaranteed to think it is medically necessary or positive for a person seeking gender affirming care to receive it.

So where does DID fit into this picture?

A study, published in 2015, states clearly that 30% of transgender individuals met the criteria for a dissociative disorder.

Yet even still, The World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), the gold standard for transgender care included this warning in their Standards of Care up until September 2022.

(source)

Fortunately that passage is no longer included in WPATH guidelines as of the 8th revision released in 2022. I shall say the above passage did grant a scare for us, though, as it was very much the practice when we were going for our surgery.

Standards of Care improve and medical understandings of both gender and dissociative care are becoming kinder towards clients.

Even still. There's always that fear. That months of therapy could be wasted on a clinician who was never going to sign off on HRT and was never going to believe our lived experience as a system.

We wouldn't have gotten nearly half as far as we have gotten without our therapist helping us identify our condition, manage our symptoms and develop cooperation and communication.

It's terrifying to think what life would be like if our symptoms not only went unmanaged, but we were made to feel fake and attention seeking by the very person we paid to take care of us...

-

With that intro in mind, The Third Person by Emma Grove is a memoir told in graphic novel format over 920 pages covering the period of life where she began therapy in hopes of receiving feminizing HRT not realizing she had an undiagnosed case of dissociative identity disorder.

When one opens the book they will see an Author's Note declaring that every word in the book is as accurate as Emma's memory will allow and any edits are to streamline the story, not to tailor anything to match the author's point of view and there is a dedication:

"For Katina - We finally did one together"

The story proper begins in media res Winter 2004, as Emma asks her therapist if he would like to hear about the book she was reading and the therapist responds asking why the client decided to speak with him "as Emma" today. Emma, confused, does not understand the question and is probed about her parts, about Ed and Katina and about her childhood. That last word being enough to cause Emma to freeze up, dissociate and...

This simple intro gives us all the context a reader needs to understand the antagonistic dynamic between Toby, the therapist, and his patient(s). Both client and patient are unable to understand the other and harbor suspicions about the other's intentions.

Without the context we only know Emma had a book, she no longer has a book and she suspects her therapist of being a mean person who is playing tricks on her.

We will get context later.

The first chapter of the book provides an introduction to the author's late teens and early 20s where they explore their gender identity and have their first experiences with their masked dissociative disorder.

The book goes to lengths to show the stress of the author dividing themselves between having to present male in their public life and sneaking out to bars where they can wear make-up, wigs and outfits to present female.

They take on their legal name, Ed, during their public life and when going out to clubs take the name Katina, from the first bar they visited presenting femme. The name Emma comes later when the system is working to transition into living as a woman in all aspects of their shared life.

The book patiently explores the stress of having to divide ones own self for their safety in spaces where they cannot present their truth without threat from an intolerant society. If 30% of transgender people suffer from dissociative disorders then a much higher number of them know the stress of having to compartmentalize themselves into different presentations for different audiences.

For us, we know that pain all too well. Our birth identity remains with us as a member of our own system. Less a ghost of our past and more a remnant of a mask we constructed to perform the version of self required for our safety.

The artwork does a good job of displaying switches and co-consciousness with subtle expression work, the hair style/wigs that each alter favors. For example we have the left displaying co-consciousness and a switch.

As the years go on, Katina finds ways to go out to the club and exist in her comfort and Ed labors hard to ensure that they can live for the times they get to "become" themselves.

Katina is established to be a fierce personality who will get aggressive when people push against her. She loves to dance and sing and party at the club. She is both a free spirit without inhibition and a fierce protector who will keep the system safe.

I recall feeling a deep fondness and connection towards Katina when we first read the book.

Once the narrative has firmly established the history that lead to the system seeking HRT we are brought into the meat of the book. A white void with a sofa and an armchair. The therapist's office where Katina, Emma and Ed speak with Toby.

Toby is a trans man that Katina believes to be an ally who will sign off on their HRT once the prerequisite 3 month waiting period is over. Unfortunately over the course of those months Toby becomes aware of Emma and Katina's switches and is convinced that it would be unethical for him to sign off on HRT when it is possible that there may be another 'guy part' in there who will 'wake up' one day and decide that he did not want to transition.

To his credit, once Toby suspects a dissociative disorder he does offer Emma a referral to a specialist. They do not take it as they just want to be signed off for HRT and have no interest in exploring their situation beyond transitioning. So they stick with Toby, convinced that another transgender individual will support them.

Toby, however, sticks to his guns and refuses to agree until they manage the DID.

In the opening, sampled above, Emma switches out at the mere mention of her childhood. Here we find that Katina will front any time Emma is made to think about her past and she refuses to allow Toby to force her to think about it or discuss it. She goes as far as to demand Toby promise not to push which, again, Toby refuses.

During this conflict both sides have exaggerated gestures of frustration, many exclamation points and underlined words. This is not a healthy dialogue at all. Toby is refusing to find middle ground or guide the therapy towards its intended destination. He denies all Katina's attempts to negotiate around the need to talk about her childhood (something she is convinced at this point has nothing to do with her stated goal of HRT) and continuously pushes that she needs to talk about it, without elaborating as to why.

Toby, untrained in dissociative disorders, is focused on getting her to open up about her childhood trauma. Katina, uninterested in exploring trauma, wants to be signed off for HRT. Neither side is willing to budge.

This isn't therapy. This is an argument.

Recently I wrote a Tumblr post about the "Hair Dryer Incident"

The Hair Dryer Incident is a story about a patient with OCD whose life was being massively disrupted by the fear that they had left their hair dryer plugged in at home and it would burn their house down. The clinician advised them to take the hair dryer to work with them every day so that they could see the hair dryer with them and not have to drive home to ensure it was safely unplugged.

There was debate in medical circles about whether this was "enabling" because it did nothing to treat the illness, only managed the life disrupting symptom of needing to drive home to check that the dryer was not plugged in.

For Toby in this scenario he believes that allowing Emma to transition would be "enabling" the sickness that he perceives, that being dissociative identity disorder. He has brought his own baggage into the office and only views Emma and Katina as parts of Ed. No amount of Emma and Katina self-advocating in his eyes will change his mind because they are not "real" in his view.

Of course, he is not fully sold on Emma's condition being real either. There is a sequence in which Emma is left alone in the room and she, having a fascination with books, checks out Toby's bookshelf. This causes Toby to become suspicious and decide that Emma has been reading the medical textbooks on dissociative disorders in order to fake an illness and trick him.

This is not a healthy therapeutic alliance and Toby is breaking all 3 key pillars of establishing a strong patient/client partnership.

Much of modern therapy techniques are based on the concept of Therapeutic Alliance. The history of which dates back to Sigmund Freud and the concept of transference but was refined and redefined by Carl Rogers in the modern Patient Centered Therapy (sometimes referred to as Rogerian Therapy).

With that in mind let's examine the 3 key elements of successful PCT(*) and how Toby failed.

Lead with a Patient Centered Approach This means to check all baggage at the door. Cultural biases have no room inside the clinic (during the book Toby openly mocks Emma's faith in God) and that the patient's priorities are the ones that should be focused on. Both client and clinician should be on the same page of what treatment is being sought, what goals are and how they will be achieved. Toby and Emma (or Katina and Ed) never establish this agreement during their time together. Katina/Emma/Ed are firm in their desire to transition and Toby is firm on his refusal to allow this until the DID is addressed.

Set clear goals with a treatment plan. A good treatment plan will have dates, targets and regular review and reward honesty for both/all parties involved in the alliance. Toby is telling Emma and Katina that they need to open up about their childhood but does not explain how this will benefit or what their goals are. Simply "it's good to talk about it" with no direction or assurances.

Regularly review satisfaction with the therapeutic process, relationship, and treatment plan. This element states that it is important that the clinician be upfront with any potential misdiagnosis and discuss any skepticism in the process and lead from a position of patient satisfaction. I do not need to highlight how Toby failed to lead from a position of patient satisfaction here.

Clearly Toby has a personal concept of what the correct approach is and is holding Emma/Katina's gender affirming care hostage until they can satisfy his unspoken objectives. Correctly applied PCT should be a discussion of mutual agreement and achievable goals worked over a period of time. Toby is not applying these principals at all. His modality simply seems to be "talk about it." I'll be an ethical writer who discloses their biases and say I despise PCT/Rogerian therapy. It is, however, the leading modality within western therapy and it is well researched. Not to mention it is the modality Toby appears to be utilizing in the book. I firmly disagree with Freud on all things (except the concept of infant experiences have lifelong ramifications. A broken clock is right twice a day) and disagree with Rogers on the idea that the client has all of the answers and needs to get out of their own way. An issue with this is that DID is a covert disorder and it will do everything it can to stay hidden. PCT does not offer an environment where patients will be able to navigate their condition as unless they are aware of their symptoms, how and when they manifest and are open to discussing those facts they will naturally steer away from circumstances that would lead to a diagnosis. Most people, including myself, have to exist in the mental healthcare system for 5-12 years before being correctly diagnosed with DID(*) and will experience a number of incorrect diagnoses before finding appropriate care. For us it was 9 years and 7 diagnoses. So. Toby's directive is that the system needs to get to the root of the condition and neither Katina nor Emma are willing to open up about their childhood. Katina continues sticking to her guns and refuses but Emma, desperate to start her medical transition, agrees to open up and the two form a shaky alliance where week by week the pair go back and forth between alliance and conflict. In time Emma describes her childhood being raised by her grandfather who was physically abusive towards her. All too quickly Katina's fears are justified by Toby's combative approach to patient care. One session Emma demands to know why she cannot work on her DID while she transitions and Toby states firmly that she is "not transsexual" which triggers Emma to dissociate into a black void that no one can reach her within. She wanted to be seen and regarded as a woman and a trans man told her flat out that he cannot and does not see her as such. Going back to the hair dryer incident as a reference for a moment. Ed is a member of the system and does show up for therapy on some days. At a point Katina, fed up with being denied treatment, makes a plan to quit their job and start a new life living as a woman 24/7. Ed creates a safety net to prevent this from ruining their collective life and continues to work in the meanwhile. Ed's role in the system has been ground down to working and working alone. He spends his days keeping so busy that he cannot dwell, a panel having the thought bubble "I can't slow down! If I slow down I have to think!" which is depressingly relatable to how we were in the worst years of repressing our gender identity. If Ed is unhappy living as a closeted man who has to occupy himself 24/7 to stop from caving in on himself, if Emma and Katina are both completely stunted by their inability to transition; is it ethical to allow them to transition and to work on their condition while allowing them the freedom to live openly as their chosen gender and prevent a circumstance that is harming the entire system? Toby seems to think it is enabling.

30% of the transgender individuals in the study above were observed to meet the criteria for a dissociative disorder. Living a life where one must mask has severe detrimental impacts on a person's psychology. This is true not just for transgender individuals but for those with autism (*) and other individuals on the LGBT spectrum (*) where the cognitive dissonance between who a person values themselves to be versus how they must present to the world causes the mind to dissociate further and allow contrary thinking to exist in individual pockets of a person's life as well as creates an alienation of the self. Healing under these circumstances requires accepting and embracing oneself, not creating a further divide.

After Toby "caught" Emma looking at the bookshelf he became convinced that she was faking her condition. That she had been plucking symptoms from a book and performing them for him. That she fit the criteria "too well"

Emma rightfully demands to know why she would complicate her receiving HRT by doing something that prevents her being able to. The pair bicker and Toby cuts off the session abruptly.

in the heat of the moment, assuming that Emma was an attention seeker who does not deserve care, Toby declares "Your grandfather was right to hit you."

Even Emma later admits later that therapy should have ended with Toby right there and then. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. Alas, a mixture of finances and sunk cost keep Emma returning to the chair week after week.

Being trans and having DID are terrifying. In order to receive care and treatment we must insist to a world that what is happening in our hearts and minds is true in spite of all that the world outside tells us is true. We need to not only reach that conclusion within our own lives but must express that truth loud enough that the people around us see it, regard it and accept it.

As so many things in this world are, it's so hard to earn and so easily burned.

"You're faking it for attention" is such an easy sentence to fling at someone and in a therapeutic setting all things should lead to curiosity. Even if a person were faking, it's not normal and healthy behavior for someone to do that. Toby is displaying a complete lack of curiosity and compassion. He is framing himself as the victim in a potential deception from someone who is paying what little money they can put together to receive his care.

I hate Toby.

As the story continues, Emma and her system begrudgingly continue, flitting back and forth between a healthy and unhealthy dynamic with their therapist that shares a lot of similarities to abuse honeymoons. It is worth noting that as the book is a memior it will inevitably be painted with the author's personal view of past events because, as discussed in the Umineko article on recontextualized memories, a human mind cannot avoid applying present understandings to past experiences when recalling memory. This is seen in the book when we see things that Emma cannot possibly have witnessed, such as Toby's facial expression after she leaves the office.

This is not to throw shade at how Emma depicts her former therapist, as he was quite horrid to all 3 of them and quite obviously did more harm than good during their time together. I just wish to note that skewed perspectives are an inevitability. Even still. They do make some progress in talking about the situations. We come to learn of the system origins and how Katina was a friend to the young and lonely child they used to be and that their abusive childhood was centered around physical abuse from their grandfather. While discussing this Emma notes that she could make Katina go away forever with a single phrase. A few short words that she can never ever say and mean or Katina would go away and never come back... and I think that's where I'll stop with the synopsis. I (specifically me, Dawn) broke down in tears the first time I read the book and I have no will to put myself through that again at this exact moment and I wish for you all to have the catharsis of experiencing it for yourself.

I will say in way of positivity that the story is quick to make its conclusions in the final chapters by displaying therapy done right and the fact that even if parts can no longer be heard or even felt, they will always endure in moments where they can add a little color to the world.

They got to write this book together, after all.

For all the sadness this memoir elicits it speaks an honest and hard truth of the desperation, isolation and confusion that can be found in managing sentiments of identity and gender in a time when there was so little understanding and acceptance, particularly for transgender people.

We are lucky these days to have the internet as it is where we can create community and find our people and in finding our people have a better understanding of who we are and how we can live our truths. Visibility of transgender and plural populations has been increasing in part due to the fact we are able to feel unalone and forge community.

2004 did not have those luxuries and I am saddened that Emma Grove had to live through that stigma and lost so much time to unethical and prejudice care from a clinician.

I do hope that in the future we can continue accepting and encouraging one another and living lives where we are not forced to hide, mask or pretend.

-

For other Media, Myself and I articles, please check out the following:

[wnderkoo]

SWEET | JJK

୨୧ it's so sweet, knowing that you love me

this is a part of my drabble series, read more here!

With a measured amount of stealth and caution, Jungkook enters the apartment almost silently.

When the door closes with nothing more than a soft click he lets out a breath, one he didn't realise he was holding, and mistakenly takes his silent entrance for a sign that he was clear.

If he could just make it to the bathroom undetected, he could lock himself inside and tend to his wounds without being scolded.

It's not like he was scared of you..

You loved him, he knew that, and that was why you cared so much whenever he got hurt.

You'd supported his new hobby of boxing, it was the hottest thing imaginable- your boyfriend, all hot and sweaty, flexing his muscles in the ring. But he often got carried away when he was sparring with friends, his competitiveness along with his nature of pushing himself always ended up with Jungkook coming home with cuts and bruises more times than you would like.

Despite receiving punches and blows all day, he still had to brace himself for the wrath you'd subject him to when he walked through the door. The hand on your hip as you narrow him with a gaze that makes a shiver run down his spine, or the way you'd be deathly silent as you patched him up. He'd mumble a shaky thank you before spending the rest of the day being wary of his every move so that he wouldn't upset you further.

It turned him on and terrified him at the same time.

He thinks he's in the clear, and his shoulders relax in premature celebration as he turns for the bathroom. But Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, looking like a deer in headlights, when he sees you on the couch looking at him with a passive indifference.

"Hey baby.." he smiles, scratching the back of his neck with incredible awkwardness.

"Don't hey baby  me." you say with a clipped tone, narrowing your eyes ever so slightly, getting up from the couch and stalking off to the bathroom where Jungkook follows you in hurriedly, grabbing your hips that fit ever so perfectly in his palms and spinning you around before you can reach for the first aid kit under the sink.

"I'm okay!" he exclaims, looking down at you as you glare up at him.

You shrug his hands off you and pull the first aid kit out, grabbing the usual supplies. He wasn't so bad today, which eased your concern, though you don't let that show as you take his face and wipe his cuts with an antiseptic wipe.

Jungkook hisses, and you whisper an apology that lets him know you're not actually mad at him. Not that you ever were, you just worried.

"How was your day baby?" he asks, hands still grasping your hips, massaging them soothingly.

"It was fine," you reply, resolve slipping quickly when Jungkook tries to kiss your fingers. You push his face away with a roll of your eyes, grabbing the mini bandaids from the first aid box and peeling the backing away.

You had purposely gotten the kid bandaids as an indiscreet way of punishing Jungkook, but he was so hot that he managed to pull off the Disney Princess designs.

"Thank you," he says once you're finished with him.

He steals a kiss from you, pulling away with a grin that makes you roll your eyes, despite the smile tugging at your lips.

Oh, he was absolutely insufferable.

some boxer jk because who doesn't love him? please let me know how you liked this drabble! i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

[sucrows]

KANATA SHINKAI + INSECURITIES

The only thing he doesn’t ever do is scold you, and that is something you couldn’t be more grateful for.

Contains: AFAB Reader, Non-penetrative Sex, Praise, Making out, Intercrural sex, Oral sex (reader receiving), Snowballing, Vaginal fingering

Word Count: 2408

(NSFW UNDER CUT)

Sometimes, you can’t help but feel a bit bad about yourself. It’s hard not to, even though others may insist that you’re overthinking, or that you’re exaggerating- that doesn’t stop your brain from saying otherwise. After all, you’re the one who lives in your body, it only makes sense for you to be aware of your flaws. 

You try to keep it to yourself, to not be a bother, but it’s hard. Sometimes something will slip out, or you’ll do something you typically wouldn't, or avoid doing something you would normally do. Sometimes, the pressure of these thoughts and words inside your head is too much and you just can’t help letting some of them out. 

Including in front of Kanata. 

He’s typically the carefree type, but you know he is a person that considers everything said to him. He’s not stupid by any means. Sometimes the response you get is him saying something positive to counteract the negative things you say about yourself, other times it’s a simple hum and a pat on the head. The only thing he doesn’t ever do is scold you, and that is something you couldn’t be more grateful for. He lets you be honest about the way you’re feeling without repercussion. 

As thankful as you are for his influence and support, it’s not a solution to your problems. Even as you get closer and closer to him and slowly open up about the things that you dislike about yourself.  His support may be unwavering, but so are your insecurities. 

It’s a calm day and you’re both relaxing in his room. He’s still soaked from his most recent escapade into the water he oh so loves, but you convinced him to at least change into dry clothes while you both hang out on his bed. At some point, this devolved into him sitting while you lay your head on his lap. 

Unfortunately, though your mind wanders as per always. Kanata is such a kind person and today, he’s spending some of his limited free time with you.

“Hey... Kanata...” 

He hums at the sound of his name being said, continuing to pet the top of your head. 

“What do you like about me?” 

He pauses for the briefest of seconds, before continuing just as before. 

“There are many ‘things’ to ‘like’ about ‘you’.” 

He shifts his position, gently sliding your head off his lap and moving so that he faces you more directly. For a second, you prepare yourself for what you think might be your first ever lecture from Kanata but instead, he reaches out his hands to cup your face in them and smiles. 

“I like ‘these’ a lot.” 

His hands thumb at your lips, touching them as he speaks. 

“i think ‘these’ are nice too.” 

His hands reach further up your face and he ghosts his thumbs over your eyelids, making you close them until he continues. 

“I like what comes out of ‘here’.” 

He holds both sides of your face and cradles your head in his hands. Is he referring to your brain as a whole? His words are tooth-achingly sweet. You had hoped for some reassurance, but you weren’t expecting to receive such definitive answers from him. 

He hums for a second, seemingly contemplating where to go from there. After a second, his hand moves downwards. 

“I ‘like’ this ‘part’ a lot too.” 

He places his hand over your chest, directly in front of your heart. 

“It’s probably ‘my favorite’.” 

Curiosity nips at your inhibitions, and you can’t help but ask. 

“In what way do you ‘like’ me?” 

Something sparkles in his eyes when you ask that question. Excitement? Mischief? You can’t quite pin down the emotion, but it excites you nonetheless when he answers you. 

“Do you ‘want’ me to ‘show’ you?” 

You think about it for a second. You could say no and stop this now but... You know damn well where this is headed, and you’d be a fool to stop yourself from getting what you want now. 

You nod and he leans in to give you the most delicate peck on the lips possible. It’s a bit awkward to have him leaning over you like this, but it does give you the perfect opportunity to reach your arms around his back and pull him back in to properly kiss you when he pulls away after the first one. 

His eyes open in surprise, but close just as quickly as they opened while he kisses you again.  

And again. And again. And again- 

He really does actually like you, huh? 

You don’t know who parts their mouth first, but before you know it, your tongues are meeting in each other's mouths, and you can barely get a full chest of air. You’ve craved this longer than you’d care to admit at this point. He truly is such a sweet person and you can’t imagine anyone else who you’d rather be having this moment with. 

Your arms reach the hem of his shirt and pull at it. Perhaps a bit of a bold move, but if there was any time in which to take this chance, you think it’s probably right now. Thankfully, he responds in kind and begins pulling at your clothing as well. 

As layers start to come off, you both get more and more excited. It still catches you off guard though when you reach for his briefs and find that underneath them, he seems to be rock hard. It actually manages to drag your face away from his and make you stare at it instead. 

“May I?” 

He pulls at the waistband of his own underwear. Asking permission to remove his own underwear? It’s a considerate gesture, but you don’t think there’s any way you could want to remove it faster than you do right now. 

You nod, grabbing the fabric and help him pull it down his legs, letting him kick them off.  

“...May I?” 

He asks again with a little giggle at the end as he reaches for your own underwear as well. You also think there’s no way you could want those off any faster either. 

You give another nod, and he immediately takes his freedom to grab and slide yours down. Briefly, you feel a bit embarrassed at being exposed, but a single glance at how hard he his swiftly eases your thoughts. 

With you both bare, Kanata now returns his lips to yours and slowly pushes you backwards until you’re laying on your back once again. 

He settles himself in between your legs without hesitation and you worry for a moment. You’re most definitely not prepared to take him yet- just making out is not enough foreplay to make penetration comfortable. You open your mouth to warn him but he places a finger in front of your lips before you can voice a single concern. 

“Don’t ‘worry’.” 

He hums softly as he places his cock in between your legs, resting it on your sex. 

“I’m not doing ‘that’ yet~.” 

He thrusts against your body, not making any move to actually stick anything inside of you. Your anxiety eases at the sight and you lay your head back and decide to just relax. It feels... good. Better than you expected. Just some humping like this has you wanting more. You do suppose the majority of your nerves are outside your body rather than inside.  

He grabs your legs and pushes them together, creating the perfect place for him to thrust his dick in and out of. It also adds pressure onto your cunt as well, making you want to squeeze them tighter as well. He moans out loud at the feeling and starts to slowly move a bit faster. 

Your folds glisten from a combination of his precum and your own slick. His breath hitches every time you two rut against each other. When you look down, you can see the head of his cock poking out between your legs. It brushes against your clit, providing you with stimulation that has you fluttering your eyes closed. 

He squeezes your legs together even tighter and pushes them further back, shifting your weight higher on your back as he bears down onto you. The space in between your legs is utterly soaked and squelches with every single one of your shared movements- you wonder how good it would feel from behind or with you on top... 

You tap on Kanata’s arms. 

“Here, let me.” 

He swiftly pauses and backs off, still painfully hard and eager to get back at it again. You push on his chest until he’s the one laying back on the bed and you’re the one climbing onto him instead. 

You straddle his hips and place his dick so that it’s flat onto his stomach, then lower yourself until you’re grinding on it. 

If you thought it felt good before, it feels amazing now. Gliding up and down his shaft, the movements has pressure being placed directly onto your clit from behind it’s hood. It’s even better the times you grind over the head of his cock. Whenever you do that, you get the joy of going over the ridge separating it from the rest of the shaft. It’s something that makes not only you want to keel over in pleasure but also brings the most delicious sounds out of Kanata’s mouth as well. 

Before long, you're finding a rhythm and he’s joining in on it too. With every one of your movements, he’s thrusting against you to the best of his ability which makes everything feel all the better.  

Your legs get weaker with every move, and you feel your climax rapidly approaching. You don’t want yourself to be coming before he gets the chance too, so you redouble your efforts around his head to get him closer as well. You grind down even harder and let your clit catch every single time on the ridge. 

It’s like boiling water is coursing under your skin as you finally cum. You moan loudly and press yourself directly onto the tip of his cock as you cum and to your luck- Kanata thrusts up against you and finishes as well. He paints your pussy white with his seed as he moans as well.  

You both sit, panting after the event. It takes a good minute for you to feel your senses returning after it and Kanata seems to be the same. He reaches out a hand to gently caress your cheek and, to your surprise, calls out your name to get your attention. 

When you meet his eyes, he smiles. 

“I ‘like you’ a lot.” 

Your face rapidly starts to burn as you take in his words. Getting pinned down and riding him didn’t have you feeling embarrassed, but a few sweet words sure do have the power to completely throw you for a loop. 

“I like you too.” 

He smiles placidly unlike your reaction; He’s an enigma to you at times. He reaches out his other hand to grab onto one of yours and play with your fingers. It’s a sweet gesture that has you deep in thought while he does it. 

“May i ‘show’ you more?” 

The question snaps you out of your brain. Well.... if one of his ways of “showing you” before was to try and make you cum, well... you aren’t averse to seeing what other ways he has to show you.  

You hum in agreement and nod at him. Just like always, he’s smiling as he pats your thigh to get you to shift off of him. When you pick up a leg to move away, a droplet of mixed fluids slips off your dirtied cunt. You wince as it lands on Kanata’s leg, but to your surprise, he just reaches out a finger and brings it up to his lips. The sight is hotter than you expected it to be. 

As it turns out, that gesture is exactly what he intends to do anyways. He’s quickly parting your legs and lowering his face down to be in between them as he starts to clean you off. It looks completely lewd to see him in between your thighs with his tongue coated in his own spend as he slides it right in between your folds.  

It doesn’t just look nice; your body is still sensitive from your previous orgasm. It makes you want to squirm every time he licks, and your hips buck every time he flicks his tongue against your clit. You wonder how he managed to get good at this. 

He doesn’t neglect your hole either. He uses his fingers to stretch you out and play with you even more. He slides them in and out, curling and scissoring while he suckles on your clit. You bury your hands in his hair but try to resist the urge to guide him by it- it's so much more satisfying to let it be out of your control as he does his best to follow the sounds your body makes.  

It doesn’t take long for you to start moaning out loud again, letting yourself loose with his encouragement. You find it harder and harder to stop yourself from clamping your thighs around his head and bucking against it. He’s good, but he’s also so incredibly slow about it. You desperately want him to move faster, to press harder, but he continues at his languid pace that draws out your pleasure. You teeter on the edge oh so close. Just a little more.... 

Finally, he seems to get the hint, and presses the tip of his tongue straight into your clit, pushing harshly against your pelvis to properly stimulate it. All your restraint goes out the window and your legs swiftly close around his head and you nearly wail in pleasure.  

Kanata takes it like a champ, unmoving and continuing to press on the same spot until you ride out the heaviest of the waves and begin to slowly ease up on the sides of his head. When he pulls back, you can see the lower half of his face completely slick with your fluids. You have half a mind to be embarrassed at just how debauched you both look at this moment but instead of letting that show, you drag him up to your face to make out with him again instead. 

Tasting yourself on his lips, you wonder just how much further you two will go tonight. 

[wesleysniperking]

25 things I remember and tell myself when it's tough to support Usopp in a shonen world.

1. If Usopp had a solo movie, it would make up for his lack of screen time.

2. If When Elbaf is his moment to shine, it can absolutely counter everything haters say he lacks. Usopp is fabulous regardless; he just doesn't see it himself.

3. I'm not sure why other fans get mad when people defend their favorite character. If an Usopp fan sees a comment like "Usopp needs to go die in a hole," it's natural to respond. Insulting someone's favorite character invites a reaction.

4. Usopp is awesome and has nothing to prove.

5. There's a beauty in retrospect. I believe he'll receive better reception by the time I'm using a walker. Yesterday's taboos are today's norms.

6. You can't take away Usopp's sniping abilities. He may be called the weakest, but no one can deny he's the best sniper. Look at his dad.

7. I believe people have forgotten storyteller Usopp, especially when they don't understand why Elbaf is significant.

8. If Usopp doesn't get his moment in Elbaf, fans will be justifiably upset. Franky's Egghead and Zoro's Wano arcs had different build-ups. Who's the outlier here?

9. Saying Usopp doesn't have Observation Haki is the dumbest thing haters say. Even non-canon reminds us that he has it. Some are just mad that he got it.

10. I don't understand how someone can passionately hate Usopp and how he's written without blaming Oda. Criticizing Usopp's writing implies Oda's done some bad writing, which is okay! No one is perfect.

11. Of all the reasons Usopp is hated, the Wano situation where he told Nami to lie is the most frustrating to defend. It genuinely beats out Water 7.

12. Usopp is the most flawed Straw Hat in the fandom's eyes. I compare him to King David a lot, especially since David is considered a warrior king who fought Goliath and was heavily flawed, yet God still loved him. Like King David, who was one of God's favorites because he had a good heart and held no pride, Usopp isn't as prideful, arrogant, or selfish as he seems. He doesn't even lie that much. People wonder why Luffy let Usopp join; it's because Luffy, like God with David, sees a good heart with no pride in Usopp.

13. Whatever happens, flaws and all, Usopp will always be my favorite.

14. I don't understand how fans can talk so badly about Usopp. Yes, people find him grating and irredeemable. But neglecting a humanist approach is scary. If you can't tolerate a character like Usopp and put him down as weak, inferior, and irredeemable, something's wrong.

15. I might project onto Usopp, and he might be my comfort character, but I root for him and accept him for who he is. Recently, I thought I wouldn't pass my finance class at university but managed to get a B with enough grit and tenacity. Usopp faces that all the time!

16. If you're waiting for Usopp to "finally be brave," you might need to find another character. It's like picking a university degree; Usopp isn't for you.

17. Despite everything, Usopp is still awesome. No one will ever overshadow him to me. I'm all in with tunnel vision.

18. Usopp embodies the idea that the greatest are the least, and the least are the greatest.

19. 19. Usopp is only 19. People need to give him grace. At 19, I was still a kid!

20. If Usopp is such a bum, why do people remember him? How does he bring the crew down? Recently, there's nothing to suggest he's hindered the crew's success.

21. Sniper King doesn't need to come back. It annoys me when haters say he needs to return because they hate the current Usopp. It's a weird flex.

22. Yes, Yasopp isn't a good dad, but he's not the worst anime dad. It bothers me when people emphasize this to prove Usopp is a “bum” compared to his crewmates. It's unfair.

23. I believe Oda is saving something big for him. If I'm wrong, it will be devastating, but I'll find a way to defend it. I won't be alone.

24. Syrup Village is a goated arc. Usopp is the reason the crew got a ship.

25. Disregarding all agendas, ships, headcanons, theories, and projections, Usopp is still a character worth respecting and rooting for. This will be MORE evident 20+ years from now. Just wait.

usopp community I created. feel free to join. (still wip, but you can post anything!).

Gif credit

[kasdan]

birthday hcs 🎂

it may or may not be my birthday today so i decided to write some headcanons on how the characters would celebrate with you<3 (saying i'm 20 now is wack)

pairings: loki x gn!reader, frank castle x gn!reader, carol danvers x gn!reader

warnings: fluffffff, very slight itty bitty suggestive themes if you squint and tilt your head, not proofread

marvel masterlist

𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊

doesn't really see birthdays as being that special considering how old he is and how many he's had, but will make an effort for yours since learning traditions are different on midgard 

struggles with being forced to share you on the day where he just wants to lock you in your bedroom all day and have you to himself

plans a party for you anyway, wanting you to feel special on your day

will plan an extravagant outfit for you and leave it on your bed for you to put on before the party

the outfit is green obviously because he wouldn't want you in any other color

he's only a tad bit possessive it's fine

you two walk into the party arm in arm looking like a perfect couple 

finds himself smiling slightly when he sees you having a good time

doesn't leave your side for the whole night and periodically checks up on you to make sure you're enjoying yourself

gets you the most gifts out of everyone, and makes a slight competition on him getting you the most, and best, of the gifts you receive at the party

you figure out what he's doing early on and you just smile up at him kissing his cheek in content, causing him to hold you closer to him as you open the rest of the gifts

ends up not completely minding that he's sharing you with this many people at the end when he sees how happy you are, and just wants to see you happy

but he does get excited when you ask to leave the party finally, done with all the partying for the night

wraps himself around you and doesn't let go until late into the next morning

𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆

would prefer to just spend the day in with you rather than do anything extravagant

however, if you want to go out for it, he wouldn't stop you and would just want to support you in the best way he could

cooks all meals for you the entire day, including any snacks you might want, and will go out to get any missing ingredients that he needs

he knows if you're holding back on anything that you want that day and will force the truth out of you of what you want

will gladly just lay in bed all day with you if that's what you want

barely lets you get up to use the bathroom

all in all just wants to pamper you the entire day

will become your bitch for the day and will do whatever you want without asking twice

you want ice cream? he'll be out the door before you get all the words out and back 10 minutes later with 5 different pints for you to choose from

your feet hurt? he's picking you up and having you ride around the apartment on his back the entire day

no matter how much you try to get off and insist that you can get to the kitchen on your own feet, he's ignoring you and placing you on the counter before asking what you wanted from the kitchen so he could get it for you

just wants you to have the best day possible because he loves you<3

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔

gets up early in order to make you breakfast and will carry it into the room when you wake up so you can eat it in bed

plans out the whole day for you so you can have the best time 

puts together a surprise party for you with the help of your friends and kamala because once she knows there's a surprise party in place she has to help

takes you out to lunch and then tells you that she planned a dinner for tonight so you should both look for a new outfit for you to wear, even though you're really just picking out an outfit to wear at the surprise party

you both end up getting off track and trying on random outfits that don't go together in the slightest and making your own fashion show

eventually you get an outfit and move to the register to pay after being threatened to get kicked out of the store if you don't pay for something

doesn't even give you a chance to get your card out to pay, she's already handing over her card to the cashier glancing your way with a grin before you could even move to reach for yours

struggles to come up with more things to do while the party is still being set up, so she insists on a walk in the park to give more time for everyone to set everything up

finally gets the text that everything's ready and pushes you into the park bathroom to get dressed

makes an excuse that she forgot something at home so you have to go back first before heading to dinner

convinces you to go in with her even though you're sure the thing she's getting shouldn't take more than a couple minutes to get

you understand why she wanted you to go with her when you walk in the doorway and suddenly the lights turn on and there are a bunch of people in the room screaming surprise

brings in the cake that she made earlier in the week with the help from monica because she was failing miserably 

overall, she's just happy that she was able to give you a day that you can be happy about

buy me a coffee ♡

[beardedmrbean]

WILMINGTON, Del. − A federal jury convicted Hunter Biden of federal gun charges, a historic first for the offspring of a sitting president, after a trial featuring wrenching emotional testimony about his drug use from his ex-wife and sister-in-law.

President Joe Biden's son faces up to 25 years in prison for three charges − lying on a federal screening form about his drug use, lying to a gun dealer and possessing the gun − although first-time, nonviolent offenders typically get shorter sentences.

The 54-year old businessman and attorney's case came after a plea deal fell apart in July 2023 that could have resolved gun and taxes charges without prison time. Hunter Biden still faces another federal trial starting Sept. 5 in California for allegedly avoiding taxes.

Biden's legal troubles coincide with his father campaigning for reelection. But the elder Biden as the trial kicked off issued a statement supporting his son and later told ABC News he wouldn't pardon him.

Follow along for live updates from the USA TODAY Network.

What is Hunter Biden guilty of?

The president's son was convicted on three firearms felonies. In October 2018, Hunter Biden walked into a gun shop north of Wilmington, Delaware, and purchased a revolver. People who purchase firearms are required to fill out a standardized form that asks whether they are an unlawful user or are addicted to controlled substances, narcotics and other listed substances. Biden is accused of answering "no" to that question on the form.

But Biden has been open about his longtime struggles with crack cocaine addiction. He's written about it in his 2021 memoir, "Beautiful Things," and discussed it during a court hearing last year, stating he's been sober since 2019.

Biden faces a maximum sentence of 25 years in prison, although first-time and non-violent offenders are often given shorter terms.

– Xerxes Wilson

Hunter Biden looks to lawyer, wife after verdict announced

Hunter Biden pat Abbe Lowell, his lawyer, on the back after his felony conviction was announced. He then turned to look at his wife, Melissa Cohen Biden and hugged other members of his defense team.

He was holding his wife's hand as he was ushered into elevators after the court adjourned.

– Xerxes Wilson and Esteban Parra

Hallie Biden received texts about drugs from Hunter Biden

Hallie Biden, the widow of Beau Biden, testified during the trial about how her brother-in-law introduced her to drugs. She also walked the jury through a series of text messages in the days after Hunter Biden bought the gun on Oct. 12, 2018.

A text the next day said he was behind a baseball stadium in Wilmington “waiting on a dealer named Mookie.”

Hallie Biden later texted Hunter Biden, stating that she tried calling him “500 times in the past 24 hours.” He eventually responded: “I was sleeping on a car smoking crack on 4th Street and Rodney.”

Hunter Biden called Hallie Biden ‘stupid’ for trashing gun

Hallie Biden told the jury she found the gun in Hunter Biden's car 11 days after he bought it. Rather than risk their kids finding it, she put the gun in a leather case and drove to a grocery store, where she threw it into a trash can.

“I realized it was a stupid idea now, but I was just panicking,” Hallie Biden said.

Hunter Biden confronted her when he discovered what she had done.

“It’s hard for me to believe anyone is that stupid,” Hunter Biden said in a text. “Do you want me dead?” he asked in a later text.

Retiree found gun in grocery store trash can

An 80-year-old retiree, Edward Banner, who scavenged trash containers for aluminum cans, found the gun outside Janssen’s Market in Greenville. A state police lieutenant tracked him down and asked whether he’d found anything unusual.

“I definitely remember finding that,” Banner said.

FBI chemist found cocaine residue on Hunter Biden gun pouch

Forensic chemist Jason Brewer testified that he found cocaine in the residue on the leather pouch that held Hunter Biden’s gun. Two spots on the pouch had a “minimal amount” of “off-white powder,” which Brewer pointed out in a picture prosecutors projected onto a screen in Biden’s trial on gun charges.

“Cocaine was identified within the residual white particles I sampled,” he told the jury.

Biden trial followed collapse of plea deal for gun and tax charges

A plea agreement that fell apart last July offered the possibility Biden could avoid jail time for all of the charges. Noreika rejected the deal because of disputes between prosecutors and defense lawyers about Biden’s protection from future charges.

Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed the U.S. attorney in Delaware, David Weiss, a special counsel to continue an independent investigation. Biden's lawyer, Abbe Lowell, argued unsuccessfully the charges should be dismissed because no new evidence had emerged since the plea agreement.

The gun indictment charged Biden with knowingly deceiving a firearms dealer by buying a Colt Cobra 38SPL revolver. He was charged with falsely filling out a federal form denying he was addicted to any narcotics. And he was charged with knowingly possessing the revolver despite the restrictions against people addicted to drugs owning firearms. The three charges carried a maximum penalty of 25 years in prison.

The tax indictment charges Biden with three felony tax offenses and six misdemeanors. He allegedly engaged in a scheme in which he failed to pay at least $1.4 million in self-assessed taxes from 2016 through 2019, and also evaded tax assessment for 2018 when he filed false returns.

The previous agreement would have allowed Biden to plead guilty to two misdemeanor tax charges, which could have resulted in no jail time, and enter a pretrial program for a gun charge that could have been dismissed if he complied.

But Republicans blasted the agreement as a sweetheart deal and Hunter Biden became a lightning rod for criticism of his father.

[janedoecreations]

It had been quite some time since I had last heard from Rusty Nail, which was unusual. The last communication I had received from him was a simple request, asking me to check if he had a package waiting for him on his porch. He didn't mention anything about the contents of the package, but he had entrusted me with the task of driving to his house and checking for it.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no sign of Rusty Nail. The silence was deafening, and my worries began to escalate. I couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly happened to him. Had something gone wrong? Was he in trouble? My mind was plagued with countless questions and concerns.

The drive up to Rusty's house was filled with unease and worry. I had grown close to Rusty over the past few months, and something inside me knew that today was different. As I pulled up to his house, anxiety coursed through my veins. Would he be okay? What had happened?

Stepping out of the car, I made my way towards the front door. But before I could even reach it, my heart sank at the sight that met my eyes. The door was kicked in, splintered wood scattered across the porch. Panic gripped me, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had someone broken in? Was Rusty in danger?

Without a second thought, I rushed towards the house. The usual calm and serene surroundings had now transformed into a scene of chaos. As I entered, my head turned back my eyes immediately went to the spot outside where Rusty's diesel tanks should have been standing tall. But all I saw was the aftermath of an explosion. The ground was scorched, metal twisted and mangled. It was as if a bomb had gone off.

Fear gripped my heart, my hands trembling as I took in the devastation. Rusty wouldn't just leave his diesel tanks lying around like this, let alone let them explode. Something was terribly wrong. An icy dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

I couldn't waste any more time. Ignoring the danger that lay ahead, I sprinted through the house, desperately searching for any sign of Rusty. Every room I entered felt like a heartbreaking disappointment. He was nowhere to be found. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Tears welled up in my eyes, a mixture of fear and frustration. "Rusty!" I called out, my voice trembling with both desperation and hope. Maybe he had just left, oblivious to the destruction around him. Maybe he was somewhere safe.

But silence was my only response. There was no trace of him, no reassurance that he was alright. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I had to keep searching. I couldn't just give up. As I sprinted out of the house, my heart sank as I saw Rusty stumbling down the dirt road towards the house.

My feet froze in place as I took in the sight before me. Rusty was covered in dirt and grime, his clothes tattered and charred. The pained expression etched on his face made my body shake with fear. Something terrible had happened to him.

Without a moment's hesitation, I ran towards Rusty. His leg gave out, causing him to stumble, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around him, desperate to keep him from falling. But as soon as my arms made contact with his burnt skin, he let out a scream of agony.

"Fuck!" I blurted out, quickly retracting my arms. I immediately apologized, panic coursing through my veins. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!"

Rusty wheezed as he struggled to catch his breath. He stuttered, his voice barely audible, "I… it's al… alright… darl… darling."

Guilt washed over me as I watched him grimacing in pain. "Let me help you inside," I offered, gently supporting him as we made our way towards the house. Rusty's body trembled, his burnt skin fragility evident. I couldn't help but worry about the extent of his injuries.

It was a frantic and adrenaline-fueled moment as I struggled to help Rusty Nail up the stairs. His tall and muscular frame made it especially challenging, but I was determined to get him to safety. With each groan and barely conscious step, Rusty's face contorted with pain, making it evident just how severe his injuries were.

Every inch of my being focused on supporting Rusty, ensuring he didn't collapse from exhaustion or the excruciating pain that he was battling. His body was covered in burn marks, a testament to the traumatic event he had just endured. The sight of the gruesome burns sent shivers down my spine, filling me with a deep sense of urgency.

Step by step, we slowly made progress up the stairs, but it seemed as if the weight of the world was pressing down upon us. My muscles strained, my breath becoming shallow from the sheer effort of keeping both myself and Rusty steady. The staircase seemed never-ending, a cruel reminder of the seemingly insurmountable obstacles we faced.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the top of the stairs. Beads of sweat clung to our foreheads, our bodies trembling with exertion. Rusty's strength was fading rapidly, evident in his unsteady gait and the way he leaned heavily on me for support. It was as if the weight of his pain had multiplied tenfold, threatening to consume him entirely.

I led Rusty towards the nearest bed, delicately guiding him to lie down. As his back hit the mattress, he let out a low grunt of relief, a fleeting moment of respite amidst the storm raging within him. But before I could even catch my breath, Rusty's eyes fluttered shut, succumbing to the exhaustion that had overtaken him.

Desperation surged through me as I cupped his face in my hands, my voice filled with anguish and fear. "Rusty, please! Wake up! Open your eyes," I pleaded, desperately hoping for a sign of life and reassurance that he would be okay. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I struggled to maintain composure.

I walked down the aisle of the drugstore, my eyes scanning the shelves for any tube of ointment that could help with Rusty's burns. It was an urgent situation, as his burns were severe - four degrees - and needed immediate care. Rusty didn't have any medical supplies at his house, so it was up to me to buy some and treat his injuries before they worsened.

Grabbing every tube of ointment I could find, I hastily placed them into the shopping cart. The burn care aisle seemed endless, filled with products promising relief and healing. But I needed to find the most effective ones to ensure Rusty's well-being.

Approaching the counter to check out, I noticed a friendly middle-aged man standing behind it. He smiled warmly as he started scanning the ointments, clearly noticing that I had quite a selection. His curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "Did somebody get hurt?"

I sighed, my worry evident on my face, and replied, "Yeah, my boyfriend. He was… burning leaves when he got burnt. It's pretty bad, four degrees. I need to treat it right away, but he doesn't want to go to the hospital because of severe anxiety. I'm not sure how to properly treat his burns at home."

The man behind the counter nodded sympathetically, understanding the urgency of the situation. He leaned in a bit closer and said, "Four degree burns are quite serious. It's crucial to seek medical attention, but I understand his anxiety. In the meantime, you can take certain steps to provide some relief and aid in the healing process."

He reached for a notepad and pen, scribbling down a few points as he continued, "First, you should gently cool the burns with warm water for at least 20 minutes every hour. This will help reduce the heat and alleviate some of the pain. But be careful not to use cold water, as it may further damage the skin."

I nodded, grateful for his guidance, and listened intently as he added, "After cooling, you can apply a thin layer of antibiotic ointment to the burns. This will help prevent infection. Then, cover the burns with a non-stick dressing or sterile gauze. Change the dressings regularly, ensuring cleanliness."

I thanked the man, appreciating his helpful advice, and proceeded to pay for the ointments and other necessary supplies. As I left the store, I couldn't help but feel a mix of worry and determination. It was a daunting task, treating such severe burns on my own, but I had to do it for Rusty.

As I walked into the bedroom, my eyes immediately fell upon Rusty, who was still lying asleep on the bed. His rugged features and unkempt hair somehow managed to make him look vulnerable in his slumber. In my arms, I carried bags of medical supplies, ready to tend to his wounds. The sight of him stirred a mix of emotions within me - concern, love, and an overwhelming sadness.

Tears involuntarily welled up in my eyes as I beheld the extent of his burns. The angry red marks covered his arms and face A deep breath filled my lungs as I tried to gather my composure and focus on the task at hand.

Carefully placing the bags on the nearby table, I moved closer to Rusty, cautious not to disturb his peaceful slumber. His breathing remained steady, oblivious to the turmoil raging within my heart. I reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from his forehead, feeling his warmth against my fingertips. It was in moments like these that I truly appreciated the delicate balance between life and tragedy.

Turning my head away, I allowed my tears to flow freely, dampening my cheeks. It wasn't just the physical pain etched on his skin that tore at my heart, it was the knowledge that somebody did this to him as I looked at his broken body, seemed unbearably steep.

Sniffing back my tears and wiping my face, I knew I couldn't let my emotions control me. I had to summon the strength within to assist him, to provide the care he desperately needed. Pulling out the medical supplies from the bags, I prepared myself to clean and dress his wounds, gingerly maneuvering around him. Each touch, each movement carried a weight of tenderness and concern, a silent plea for his healing.

Then, as if sensing my presence, Rusty began to stir, his eyes fluttering open. A raspy voice parted from his lips, filled with grogginess, "W… what's going on?" His gaze focused on me, registering the tears on my face and the supplies in my hands.

As I turned my head and slid closer to Rusty on the bed, I could feel the tears streaming down my face. My heart ached as I assessed the severity of his burns. It was a painful sight to witness, but I knew that I needed to act swiftly to alleviate his discomfort. Through my tears, I mustered up the courage to ask for his assistance.

"Rusty, I need your help to get your clothes off so we can treat your burns, okay?" I said, my voice quivering slightly. "Do you think you can help me with that, sweetheart?"

Rusty's coughs soon turned into laughter, surprising me for a moment. He chuckled, leaning back against the pillows, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Anything to get me out of my clothes, huh?" he smirked.

His wit amidst the pain was unexpected, but it brought a small smile to my face. Despite his burnt state, Rusty still managed to find humor in the situation. I slowly reached out and gently took his hand, supporting him as he sat up. My eyes met his, reflecting a mixture of concern and amusement.

"Even when you're burnt, you still have the time to make a move, huh?" I responded, a playful tone creeping into my voice. It was a relief to see him finding solace in humor, even in such difficult circumstances.

As I helped Rusty pull off his shirt, my eyes couldn't help but focus on the burns that covered his torso. Each mark told a story of pain and suffering, and my heart sank at the sight. Calculating the severity of the burns, my mind raced with thoughts of whether I had enough ointment to heal them completely.

Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly brought back to reality when Rusty began unbuttoning his jeans. My eyes froze on him, unable to look away. It was as if time stood still, and I found myself unable to tear my gaze away.

Interrupting my silent contemplation, Rusty hesitated and spoke softly, "The burns…they aren't…down there, you know?" His voice trailed off, filled with undeniable vulnerability and a hint of embarrassment.

Startled out of my daze, I looked up at him, a weak smile playing on his lips. With all the strength I could muster, I responded, "We need to clean the burns with warm water. Why don't you lay back, and I'll get a bowl of warm water and a cloth? I'll be back soon, okay?"

Rusty nodded, relief evident in his eyes as he trusted me to take care of him. With determination, I left the room to gather the necessary supplies, determined to provide the care Rusty needed.

Returning with a bowl filled with warm water and a soft cloth, I gently set them down beside Rusty. His breathing had steadied, but I could detect a hint of nervousness as I prepared to help him clean his burns.

I reached for the cloth, moistening it in the warm water before gently wringing out the excess. Locking eyes with Rusty, I whispered, "This might sting a bit, but I promise I'll be gentle. Just bear with me."

With his trust still evident, Rusty nodded in understanding. As I began to carefully wipe away the dirt and grime from his burns, Rusty winced slightly. Despite the discomfort, he didn't flinch or pull away, granting me access to the wounds that needed attention.

As my touch caressed his damaged skin, Rusty's grip tightened on the edges of the bed, his body seemingly straining against the pain.

Rusty had passed out again his burned body still in need of care and attention. I looked down at him, worry etched across my face, knowing that this next step would be crucial in his recovery. Slowly, I sat on his lap, mindful of his injuries, as I grabbed the tube of ointment.

Squeezing the tube gently, I watched as a small amount of ointment oozed out onto my fingers. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the ointment against his burns, feeling the heat emanating from his skin. As my fingers made contact, Rusty let out a soft groan, his body instinctively pressing against the bed for some relief. I couldn't help but let out a sigh, the weight of his suffering bearing down on both of us.

"I know, Baby, I know," I whispered softly, my voice filled with empathy. Even in his unconscious state, I hoped he could sense my attempts to ease his pain.

Every hour, I would repeat the same routine, carefully cleaning his wounds with warm water, being gentle yet thorough in my approach. Then, I would apply a fresh layer of ointment, making sure to coat every inch of burned skin. It was a meticulous process, one that required patience and a steady hand.

With each passing hour, I found myself neglecting my own needs. The hunger in my stomach and the exhaustion in my bones were pushed aside, forgotten. All that mattered was Rusty's well-being. I couldn't bring myself to leave his side, not even for a moment, as I watched over him, waiting for any sign of improvement.

As time went on, I realized that Rusty's condition was not improving as quickly as I had hoped. His body temperature began dropping, adding another worry to my already overwhelming list. Without a second thought, I made a decision. I had to offer my own body temperature to keep him warm, no matter the cost to myself.

I crawled under the covers next to him, gently wrapping my arms around his unconscious form. I focused on transferring my warmth, my body heat, to him, hoping that my presence would provide some comfort. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make, knowing that his recovery depended on it.

Three days had passed since Rusty's eyes had last opened, and as they slowly fluttered open, he found himself staring up at the familiar ceiling of his own bedroom. The haze of unconsciousness slowly fading away, he couldn't help but question whether he was still alive. Testing his doubts, he instinctively reached up and pressed two fingers against his throat, searching for the reassuring thump of his pulse. A wave of relief washed over him as he felt the rhythmic beat beneath his fingertips.

However, as Rusty attempted to sit up, he was immediately met with resistance. Confusion etched across his face as he lowered his gaze, he discovered the source of his constraint. It was them, the person who had been by his side through thick and thin, pale and looking incredibly unwell. In that moment, he forgot about his own predicament and focused solely on them.

Panicking, Rusty pressed his hand against their cheek, only to be met with an icy coldness that sent a chill down his spine. Quickly comprehending the gravity of the situation, he gathered them into his arms, holding them close as his hands began to rub their body up and down, trying to generate warmth. "Shit, you're freezing. I've got you."

As I gradually regained consciousness, I could feel a comforting warmth enveloping my body. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found myself staring up at Rusty, my heart skipping a beat at the sight of him awake. Relief flooded through me, but I couldn't help but notice the concern etched on his face.

Before I could form any coherent words, a shiver ran down my spine, reminding me of the cold that had settled deep within me. My voice caught in my throat as I hesitated, trying to hide my discomfort from him. However, his observant nature didn't let anything slip past him.

"Are you okay?" Rusty's frown deepened as he reached out a hand to gently brush against my cheek. I couldn't help but lean into his touch, his warmth seeping through his fingertips and spreading comfort through my body.

I couldn't hold back anymore and mustered the courage to meet his concerned gaze. My eyes lowered, instinctively drawn to the now healing burns on his body, evidence of the harrowing ordeal he had just survived. My voice wavered as I finally responded, "I'm… I'm just cold."

Rusty and I were lying together, basking in the warmth of his strong arms. The room was filled with a calmness that only comes after moments of intimate connection. As I lay there, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment, my stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.

The sudden noise startled Rusty, his eyes snapping open as he looked around in confusion. He furrowed his brow and muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

I groaned softly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and hunger. My stomach growled even louder, as if to accentuate its hunger pains. Rusty turned his gaze towards me,.

"What was what?" I questioned, my voice laced with equal parts confusion and discomfort.

Rusty's brows furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the situation. "That noise. It sounded like a wild animal or something."

Rusty Nail's piercing gaze bore into me as I tried to come up with some sort of explanation for the embarrassing sound my stomach had made. The silence in the room only amplified the awkwardness of the moment, making me fidget under his intense scrutiny.

"I uh… I didn't hear anything, Rusty," I stammered, attempting to deflect attention from my hunger. But it was clear that he wasn't convinced, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. I had to think fast before he started probing further into the matter.

"Oh, that!" I exclaimed, feigning surprise. "I, um… I didn't eat in, uh… three days." Rusty's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his expression a mix of concern and disbelief.

My heart raced as attempted to leap out of bed I felt Rusty Nail's strong hands grab my wrists firmly pinning them against the bed. As his weight pressed down upon me, I could feel the warmth of Rusty's body seeping through my clothes. It was a close proximity I wasn't prepared for, and my gaze involuntarily shifted downwards, his snapping fingers brought my attention back to him, demanding my focus.

I reluctantly tore my gaze away and met his intense stare. A mixture of concern and frustration etched across his face, he implored, "Wait a fucking minute here. You didn't eat for three days?"

My voice caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard before managing a shaky response. "I… "

Rusty's grip on my wrists relaxed slightly, his concern softening his demeanor. He leaned in closer, his voice filled with genuine worry. "Why didn't you eat, darlin'?"

As I stared up at Rusty Nail, the words seemed to escape me, leaving my mind blank. I was lost in thought, contemplating how to address the situation at hand. After all, I had been so preoccupied with tending to his burns that I had forgotten to take care of myself, a fact that I was just realizing now.

"I um… I guess I was so distracted in taking care of your burns that I forgot to eat…" you hesitantly admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rusty scoffed, disbelief etched across his face as he retorted, "You forgot to eat for three days?"

Feeling a mix of shame and frustration, I turned my head away from him, unable to meet his piercing gaze. A single tear rolled down my cheek, and I sniffled, attempting to hide my vulnerability.

As tears began to flood my eyes once again, I squirmed underneath Rusty, desperately wanting to escape the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you. With a shaky voice, I pleaded, "Let me up…"

But Rusty shook his head firmly, denying my request without hesitation. His gaze softened slightly, but his resolve remained unwavering. Looking up at him, I repeated my plea, my voice more forceful this time, "I said let me up!"

"I said no!!" Rusty replied sternly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation or defiance.

As I stared up at Rusty, my heart was pounding in my chest the words that slipped out of my mouth were angry and frustrated. "What the fuck do you want me to say, huh?!" I shouted at him, my voice cracking slightly.

Rusty just stared at me, his hands still cupping my cheeks as if he was trying to calm me down. And then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed me.

The kiss was slow and gentle at first, but then it deepened, and I found myself pressing my hand against his chest as I kissed him deeply. It was like all of my anger and frustration melted away in that moment, and all I could feel was the warmth of his lips against mine.

When Rusty finally pulled back, he looked down at me with a small smile on his face. "I don't want you to say anything," he said softly. "I just want you to wait here in this bed while I go and get you something to eat."

I swallowed hard, my heart still racing from the kiss. "Alright," I said quietly. As Rusty got up from the bed, I couldn't help but watch him go, my eyes following the line of his body as he moved towards the door.

But then Rusty turned back to me "I'll be back soon," he promised, before disappearing out of the door and leaving me alone in the room.

[okiedokiegoosey]

theories w/ rocki bc @caterva told me to put it on the dash:

today's edition: cooper howard is not a naturally occurring ghoul.

i am pointedly putting this on lucy and not barb because we're going to talk about how it affects lucy and cooper's interactions. i may expand upon it on barb later. under the cut bc i am long winded and do not want to clog your dash with my cooper was an experiment theory.

disclaimer: these are my thoughts and opinions and that's it. they aren't law. do not have to apply to anyone. they're just here as thoughts and theories. that's it.

let's discuss how cooper howard is nothing like a naturally occurring ghoul in the fallout universe.

the first time we meet the ghoul, he's in the ground, and he's let up every year by dom pedro, but he's hooked to the same chem that's in the vials via iv. this directly goes against the general knowledge of natural ghouls being a. highly chem resistant and b. able to go on for at least a few decades without intervention for turning feral. it's important to note that todd howard himself said the show was canon, so that means game lore is in play here.

he called himself a bucket of drugs, which also, doesn't make sense to a naturally occurring ghoul or his personal character motives and development to that point. chem addiction itself is not uncommon in the fallout universe, but if we take his character as a whole. he takes it as it comes, he's a bucket of drugs. we see no indication in his supply that it's a chem addiction. hancock had a chem addiction that started his ghoulification. howard? yeah. no way.

and we have to consider how close he was to the memories of his past life after two hundred years and what he says about torture to lucy. he strung her up and lucy immediately dived into her own memories and personal mission to make him see reason. he immediately brings up studies, and if you look at his face, you can see a whole play of emotions before he said anything. that points in the direction of him having been where she was at some point. on the receiving end of what he perceived as torture.

so, let's say he was an experiment and not the product of continued radiation exposure. that also explains why his reaction was SO BIG to lucy smashing his supply. There is something inherently wrong with his regeneration and degeneration rates to need support beyond maybe radaway/radx on occasion to keep the radiation at a healthier rate? If the radiation were that bad, for him to need chem support so frequently, people would be dropping like flies due to the radiation. we don't see any evidence of that.

in theory, there's more than enough evidence to say he was tested on in a vault (hence why he knew at least janey made it in to one and not where she went after) and he likely wasn't the most willing to go in but did it for his daughter (dad of the century. take notes hank). If they'd separated them under the guise of protocol, he likely would've been more receptive to letting janey go before they went to night night sleep. it would also explain why he asks where the hell they are, because he knows for a fact at least janey is in a vault and likely trusts barb followed her own plan and went in one, too (more on that later. on barb). yes, he hated vault tec. that isn't up for debate. what is up for debate is how far he went to protect his daughter. his memory of where he knew she should be is too clear to indicate he was knocked out at any point. he knows they're in the vaults. that part he doesn't debate. he wouldn't know that unless he put janey in one himself. it would be more likely that he assumed at least she died.

now, what does this have to do with lucy? i'd be kinda hostile if i saw someone in a vault tec suit and i was their pet project, too. let's be clear about that. It's how he tells her he's her and to give it time is what I want to draw on first. we assume he means physically given the constant callback to her checking her radiation levels, but consider he meant mentally. that he too was a product of their design and look at how he turned out. he'd already called it quits with vault tec before the drop to think that kept him bitter. something in what we didn't see has his ire for them even higher.

plus, the name maclean would've triggered some memory. moldaver, too. we saw that. we know he's got a good grip on his mind (another reason the constant chem recall makes no sense in the grand scheme of things). i truly think his initial motive with lucy was to fuck with her because of her connection to vault tec. it was luck and chance she was useful to his personal mission, at least in the beginning.

let's put this naive (not dumb unless it's street smarts, in which she has no experience) girl in front of someone who has been through hell and back and still just wants to find her family. You see he's still capable of humanity (which goes against him being on the edge of turning feral too) because he does, in a way take responsibility for her, covers for her, and at least invites her along later.

nothing about this is to say the relationship can't turn romantic, okay? we aren't discussing that. if you want that for what you're writing, go for it. the room for interpretation is a beautiful thing, but at the very least, he cares enough about her to help her see her mission through to the end, too.

we aren't even going to mention the ghoul organs for sale which really wouldn't do anyone any good unless they're for science and research, which feeds back into the logic that someone is running experiments.

AGAIN ROCKI; TL;DR: all of this is to say that there are inconsistencies in the lore we know about ghouls and cooper howard to say he was a naturally occurring ghoul. his chem dependence leads to inaccuracies of his own cognitive function, and he was likely experimented on. it also explains why dom pedro kept him as he did in it's own way. his chem dependence also makes him unique in terms of a ghoul, and it's my theory that vault tec made him the way that he is.

[twcwheeler]

Freed from a golden cage - drabble

" Aaah!" With a crash, Arcee landed over her pede, grasping it. Others turned towards the noise.

Past them all, the director made his way towards her with haste.

" What is going on? Arcee... what happened?"

Quickly, Arcee got up, briefly supporting the left pede with both of her hands. Grunting, as putting weight solely on the left felt like she could loose balance anytime. Different position, and optics shut in response of pain.

She could hear some whispering in the room. While some were clearly showing empathy, she knew on the other side of the coin - many saw an opportunity. Hadn't she herself, fought so hard to get where she was today. And now, her opportunity was slipping away into servos of other dancers. Arcee knew, they were both friends, but also, all aiming for certain roles and visibility.

She couldn't give up now. Not now... she could fake it. Somehow.

" I just... ah, It's nothing... just a tricky bolt. Just little bit of rest and self-maintenance and I will do just fine... " Carefully, she let go of the pede. Looking down at it as she huffed and tried again.

But the director's expression showed no confidence, as if he wasn't convinced, at all. He listened her explanation without a word. Gave her time to gather herself. Then, watched her once more try to balance, only to collapse down on both of her pedes again. Slightly, he shook his head.

Arcee was adamant, if not stubborn to try to get up again. Despite obvious pain flashing over her face plates. Gently, the director placed hand over her shoulder, guiding her back down as he knelt beside her.

" Tricky bolt? Arcee. I have seen enough. What comes to your pede... You, nor I shall have an opinion on that. I suggest you are free of duty, until you have it resolved."

Shocked, the respond was quick. " Wait. No. Please... Give me a chance to rest it for tomorrow... then try again. I worked so hard for this role. I passed all the quality checks!"

" And you can barely walk or balance after that fall... Look. It happens! And that kindle, that strong will to go on despite pain and injury. Admirable, what we look for... when it is only case of a tricky bolt." Helm shook, as he let down a deep breath. He knew too well how hard working and passionate she was about her duty. How they all, aspired to be the next star. Seen and loved by the audience. But he also knew, how quickly one would fall when reaching the greatest hEights, and never climb again. " However. Understand. Letting you on the stage would bring disgrace to you. I cannot let that happen. Our patreons and guests expect to see talent and art. To think you wouldn't show your best..." He got up and straightened his back, optics still directed downwards at the defeated femme. Offering his hand to help her up. Silent, she carefully got up with his help, back to balance with her both pedes. " You cannot risk it to get worse... What is a dancer without functioning pede? Within these walls... Nothing. "He began to walk towards the remaining cast. Few steps later, he glanced over his shoulder. "There is no point to push a broken frame. As I said. you are dismissed until you get it professionally fixed. Once you are ready to return, I expect documentation from a proper medical professional. Take your time, and worry not. We will find you a replacement till the end of this run and recast you once you are better. All clear?"

She frowned, then nodded reluctantly. "Clear..." She couldn't believe after receiving a notable role, she would bring this upon herself. She wasn't angry to the director, nor anyone coming to her place. It wasn't anything pre-planned. Rather, her luck. Her own mistake that cost her now a role.

Stupid pede. She cursed, picking her belongings as she carefully walked with careful steps. What is a dancer without a pede... and what if it wasn't a little thing? Thoughts cross her mind as she makes her way out. Standing on top of the grand stairs of a building that invited even the high-class. Great sight at the city, at the busiest hour.

Iacon. So vast and large. Busy with all kinds of function. And among them, she is dismissed, waiting for judgement and time. What is she even supposed to do, should it take longer than one adjustment?

Well, time to make searches and find a medic and get it dealt with. The quicker the better... the more experienced with frames... the better. The least she wants is some crowded hospital with who knows what kind of doctors at hand.

With search open, the small femme walks among larger frames - subconsciously dodging and moving through narrow openings surprisingly well, even though she couldn't glide or transform. She stops by a stop, ready to pick a train.

Somewhere peaceful. She just has to digest these news, somehow. Maybe, a park and fresh air...

[themickey]

task 3.2: mickey's eulogy

mickey has been dreading this moment since the moment she received the letter from mrs. tristian about richard's passing. this made it real, no matter how much she pretended it wasn't happening or how many times she prayed to a god she doesn't believe in, there was no denying it now as she watched as so many people gathered around the yard and cemetery to say one final good bye to richard woodrow.

she doesn't cry, at least not yet, though it's hard for mickey to hide her true feelings on her face. her eyebrows were turned down, tired eyes, and a frown on her lips; she was trying her best to hold it together as various people speak and say their goodbye. she knows it's expected for each of the wards to say something. the night before, she tried to put it down in writing, but it was too hard. she decided to just wing it, though maybe that was a bad idea.

when it was her turn to stand in front of everyone and give a eulogy for her father, mickey took a deep breath and just let the words come to her. she was the last to speak which was intimidating in a normal situation, let alone saying goodbye to her father.

"i think everyone here can agree that richard was a great man. he was a renowned professor, a philanthropist, a friend, but to me, he was a father. i was the last to be taken in to the woodrow house, maybe i was a sign that he was getting too old to take in trouble making children," she pauses, hoping to get a chuckle from the staff or the other wards who understood. she was sure at least reece and dante shared her sentiment. "i lost my mother when i was just seven years old and when my own father didn't want me, i was put into the canadian foster care system until richard took me in at eleven. i don't know what he saw in me to give me such an honor to join his house, but there must have been something to the hyperactive, trouble making kid, who barely spoke any english, that he saw on one of his many visits to schools over the years. he gave me the resources to expand my mind and reach my full potential. but most of all, he gave me a home and a family. i know i wouldn't be where i am today without his guidance and support." she could feel her throat tighten up the more she spoke but she kept telling herself not to cry, at least not in front of everyone.

"i think my favorite thing about richard and growing up in his home was how he always made me feel special. i remember how he used to encourage my love of space; he'd share text books with me about black holes and theories of life on other planets. he even found footage from the space race and we watched it together, putting up with all of my questions and ramblings about everything even though his specialty was literature. richard made me feel special, even in a house with fifteen others." as much as mickey tried to hold back, she felt a single tear start to roll down her cheek and decided it was time to wrap it up. "i loved him like a father, and i hope he saw me as a daughter. and... i hope i made him proud. i'll never forget what he's done for me and i am going to miss him dearly."

finishing her speech, mickey quickly rubs a hand over her cheek and went back to her seat, biting her lip to stop more tears from falling. god, she could go for a drink right now and probably a cigarette but that would have to wait until everyone dispersed for the wake.

[madsworld15]

I Am Still Right Here Chapter 2 Part 1 (Brian x Justin, QAF, Support Group AU)

I have been a writing fiend when it comes to this fic. I have uploaded all of Chapter 1 on AO3. This fic will have 2 chapters in total.

As always, I wouldn't be here today writing for the QAF fandom if it weren't for the support of @winderlylandchime @maryp50 and @lostcol

Two Weeks Later

Justin was getting better about being around crowds. Something about having met Brian really eased his mind, even when he wasn’t around the man. Which, if he was dead honest, wasn’t very often. Brian’s cancer treatments had really started to take their toll on Brian’s health. Justin still saw him because he would go to Brian’s office sometimes just to hang out. But, it seemed like each time he went, Brian appeared more and more ragged.

True to his word, Brian never turned him away and never complained about Justin being there. In fact, if Justin were a gambling man, he would bet his next paycheck on Brian getting as much comfort out of his presence as Justin got out of Brian. It was very clear to him that Brian hadn’t told any of his clients or employees that he had cancer. Well, aside from Cynthia and Ted, who seemed to be readily there to cover for him more times than Justin had been able to count. 

Justin wasn’t worried about Brian until he didn’t show up for support group. It had been two weeks since the night he stayed at Brian’s loft, and they’d seen each other every few days since then. The previous Thursday, they had done their now routine visit to Emmett’s business after their group sessions were over. However, this week, Justin waited in the lobby for Brian to show up and was almost late to his own support group because he couldn’t leave the lobby without seeing him. But Brian never showed up, and walking past the room where the cancer group met, Justin could see that Brian wasn’t in there either.

The whole time Jessica was talking, Justin couldn’t focus. He wanted to desperately find out where Brian was and be sure that he was okay. Only, in all their time hanging out together, Justin still didn’t know Brian’s number, nor could he remember the address of his loft, considering how messed up he was that night. So, he worried his lip and played with his fingers while everyone else in the group shared and discussed coping methods for moments of extreme anxiety.

“Justin.” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Jessica’s gentle voice.

“Huh?”

“I was wondering if you would like to share how you are doing with your tolerance of crowds.” She was kind, but Justin wasn’t in a headspace to talk about that. 

So, instead, he talked about what was going through his mind. 

“I met someone. Actually, I met him that night we had to combine the various support groups. Since then, we’ve kind of been hanging out and looking out for each other whenever we happen to cross paths. But tonight, he didn’t show up, and now I’m kind of worried. I haven’t seen him in a few days.” Justin could feel his chest tighten, and the words came out in a panicked squeak by the end.

Jessica got up from her chair and approached Justin’s. She moved slowly and didn’t break eye contact with him.

“Justin, breathe in. Out. Focus on the sound of my voice. Breathe in. Breathe out.” By the time she finished her first round of reassurances, she was standing in front of him. Jessica kneeled down to get level with him.

Once Justin’s breathing calmed down, Jessica came back into full focus, and he could feel tears streaming down his face. Justin swiped at them to make them go away.

“Better?” Jessica smiled and gave his upper arm a squeeze. Justin nodded.

“Is there a reason to be concerned?” Jessica’s question was an attempt to get Justin to rationalize his feelings. At first, his brain resisted, but after a few moments of thinking about it, Justin was able to understand that she only meant well.

“Well, he’s receiving radiation for cancer treatments. And the last time I saw him, he looked really tired and ragged.” Justin bit his lip, “But he was at work at the time, so I figured he must be okay if he was still working. It’s been three days.” 

Justin could feel the tears streaming down his face again. This time, he let them out and even allowed himself to sob.

“Did you try calling him?” Jessica continued to pepper him with questions.

“I don’t know his number. If I want to see him, I usually just go by his office, where he lets me hang out when I get too overwhelmed. Or I see him here.” Justin could feel his chest getting tight again. “What if he’s really sick and no one knows to tell me because the only person in his life that knows about me is his friend Emmett?”

“Do you know Emmett’s number? Maybe you could call and ask him.” Jessica gave his arm a squeeze once more.

Justin shook his head and wiped at his nose, which had started to drip snot. “I know where he works though. Maybe I could go by there.”

Jessica nodded at him encouragingly. “I think that is a smart decision. Allow it to ease your mind and your fears. Or if by some chance something is wrong, it will allow you to know and then deal with it accordingly.”

Justin nodded in agreement and let Jessica wrap him up in a hug. 

“I’m so sorry you’ve been having a rough week. I know how important it is to have people in our lives who keep us grounded. So for that person to be unavailable must be very challenging.”

Once their support group session was over, Justin bolted out the door, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone. He ran until he was standing in front of Milk & Honey. Justin wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get there without even thinking, but he was beyond grateful to see lights on in the building. It meant that Emmett was there. Sure enough, the minute Justin knocked, Emmett opened the door and stood aside to let him in.

“I figured I would be seeing you tonight. It is tradition, after all.” Emmett’s voice was flat, unemotional. It wasn’t the same energy Justin had come to expect from the man, which was his first clue that something wasn’t right.

“I haven’t heard from Brian in a few days, and he didn’t go to support group tonight,” Justin said around each heave of his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong? I know something is wrong. Please.”

Emmett turned ever so slightly away. Justin’s heart fell into his stomach. This couldn’t be good. At all.

“Justin.” Emmett turned back to him, wringing his hands, concern all over his face. “I decided to be here tonight because I figured you would come by and that you didn’t know.”

Justin could feel a lump forming in his throat. “Just tell me,” He begged.

“Brian passed out at work two days ago. Cynthia called an ambulance, and he’s been in the hospital ever since. It turned out he hadn’t been able to keep anything down, and his body had gotten too weak.” Emmett moved forward and placed his hand on Justin’s shoulder.

Justin’s tears began anew. He couldn’t breathe, his chest tightened. He couldn’t lose Brian. Sure, he’d only known him a month, but already he’d become Justin’s anchor, his rope when he felt untethered. His vision started to swim as the tears streamed down his face, and his throat swelled up from the excess spit that had nowhere to go.

“Justin. Breathe. Please.” Emmett’s voice sounded extremely far away. But Justin couldn’t latch onto it like he always could to Brian’s when the panic set in. Justin stumbled away from Emmett’s touch and fell to the ground in a ball.

After a few minutes, his tears subsided, and he could slowly breathe steady again. That had been the worst panic attack he’d had in months. Not since before he met Brian. Justin sat up and stared out at Emmett. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Justin suddenly felt self-conscious.

“I may not know how to help you, but I understand. Brian helps you feel like you won’t float away. The prospect of him being really sick sent your brain into a panic.” Emmett came forward and extended his hand out.

Justin glanced at it, and then into Emmett’s eyes accepting his help. “That’s why I knew I should be here tonight. I’m the only one in our group who knows about you. I didn’t have a contact for you, so I waited.”

“Is he okay?” Justin’s voice came out small and scared.

Emmett gave him a fixed smile. “Oh baby,” He rubbed Justin’s hair soothingly, “He sleeps a lot. He’s not awake much at all.”

Emmett gave Justin a look that silently asked if he could hug the young man. Justin nodded his head in agreement. Not because he fully trusted Emmett’s touch but because he needed a hug from someone he was familiar with, and Emmett was the best he had.

“Tell you what. I’ll call us a cab, and we will go over to that hospital right now.” Emmett clapped his hands and walked over to the phone on his wall.

“But it’s after visiting hours.” Justin knew enough about hospitals, having recently been in one, to know that they had strict rules about when people could come by to see patients.

Emmett dismissed his concern with a wave of his hand. “Baby, I’ve been sleeping with the male nurse who works on Brian’s unit. He would do anything for me. Even a short unauthorized visit.” The Southerner gave Justin a wink and dialed the number for a cab.

When they arrived at the hospital, Justin shuffled along behind Emmett. He was still nervous in hospitals. Emmett either didn’t notice, or he didn’t mind. Whatever the reason, Justin was grateful he could just exist in his shadow.

Emmett directed him up to the third floor. Once they got there, Emmett was greeted by a crowd of people Justin didn’t know. Everyone started chattering at once, excited to see Emmett. Justin pulled away and crossed his arms around his chest, staring down at his shoes. He was trying to prevent another panic attack from surfacing, but all the excitement and loud voices were already too much. 

Then, someone was standing in front of him. He looked up to find Ted. Justin let out the breath he’d been holding and gave a small, appreciative smile. 

“Hey, Ted,” Justin mumbled.

“Hey, Justin. I wondered if anyone had told you. I asked Emmett yesterday, and he said he didn’t know how to reach you. I’m glad he figured it out.” Ted started to reach out and place a hand on Justin’s shoulder, but Justin flinched, and he thought better of it. “Anyway, he’s stable but sleeps a lot.”

“Yeah. Emmett mentioned that.” Justin whispered, dropping his gaze to the linoleum floor once more.

“Hey, baby.” Emmett came up and addressed Justin in his kind, gentle tone. “Deb said the nurses weren’t around, so if you wanted to see him now might be your chance.”

“Deb?” Justin looked up questioningly.

“She’s our mom. Well, not biologically, unless you’re Michael, but yeah, she adopted all of us.” Emmett motioned to a woman with red hair and very loud clothes.

Justin nodded. Emmett wrapped his arm around his shoulder and led Justin down the hall. At about the third room on the right, Justin found Brian in a bed. He looked so pale and small under the fluorescent lights. He sucked in his lips and fought back another round of tears.

“Come on,” Emmett whispered. “Deb also said that when he was awake earlier, he was lucid enough to ask for you. She was very confused, but I cleared things up.” 

Justin slowly approached Brian’s bed. It felt like every time he got up the nerve to take another step, the machine measuring his heartbeat would signal a new beat. After what felt like ages, Justin was close enough to him to touch. He took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and grabbed Brian’s hand.

Brian’s hand almost immediately shifted in his and their fingers linked. Justin stared at the hand incredulously and then glanced up toward Brian, who was waking up. The older man turned his head and slowly opened his eyes. 

With the tiniest of smirks, Brian croaked out, “Hi.”

Justin let out a sigh of relief, and his tears escaped, falling down his cheeks once more. “I was so fucking scared.”

Brian shifted, his face looking concerned, “I’m fine. Just needed a little R&R.”

“Nobody told me what had happened. I showed up to group today, and you weren’t there and I had a panic attack. Then I went to Emmett’s, and he finally told me.”

“I’m sorry,” Brian’s voice was sincere, but that didn’t mean Justin trusted it. After all, Brian wasn’t one to give apologies.

“I have been really out of it for a few days. I didn’t even think that no one would contact you.” Brian continued, his voice low, no higher than a whisper.

Justin immediately jumped to reassure him. “No, don’t. No one knows me, and the ones who do definitely don’t know where to find me. It doesn’t matter. I know now.”

“But you had a panic attack.” Brian was clearly more concerned about Justin, despite the fact he was the one in the hospital. It warmed Justin’s heart to know this man cared that much.

“Yeah, well, I have them all the time. You aren’t special.” Justin quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. Brian gave the tiniest of smiles. It wasn’t much, but Justin would take it.

Just then, a nurse came in with an irritated look on her face. 

“Mr. Kinney needs his rest. Visiting hours ended two hours ago. I don’t know what it is about you people thinking you can bend the rules. OUT!” She motioned for Justin to leave.

Justin leaned over and placed a kiss on Brian’s cheek, not stopping to think they didn’t do that, and told him to get some rest. Once he was in the hall once more, Justin started to freak out about the fact that he had broken the rules and had gotten caught, but also that he had kissed Brian.

Emmett gave him a questioning look as Justin returned to the waiting area and collapsed into a chair. He didn’t even give attention to any of the people milling about. He didn’t know most of them, and he needed time to unpack what had just happened. He kissed Brian without even thinking, it was like second nature to him. 

Why did I do that? We don’t kiss. We aren’t even dating. The fuck, Taylor!

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice screeched out, drawing Justin back to his surroundings. Before him stood a short, dark-haired man, his face was contorted into an indignant expression, and his eyes were shooting bullets at Justin.

“Oh, um, I’m Justin Taylor. Brian and I met at support group.” Justin shrugged and looked beyond whoever this man was to the familiar face of Emmett, who also shrugged.

“Oh honey,” The red-haired woman named Debbie stepped forward with pity in her eyes. “You have cancer, too?”

Justin forced a smile and shook his head, “No, I go to a support group for PTSD. We just happened to meet because one night, about a month ago, our groups were combined into one due to staff shortages.”

“So, you met Brian once, and what, now you are stalking him?” The short, dark-haired man piped in again.

“No, Brian and I hang out sometimes.” Justin shrugged. 

“It’s true. I’ve seen him at Kinnetik regularly for the last few weeks.” Ted piped up in Justin’s defense. “Brian doesn’t talk about it, but it’s a thing.”

“So, you bother him while he’s trying to work? What is wrong with you?” The angry man continued. Now Justin was irritated.

“Michael,” Debbie warned.

“What is your problem with me?” Justin stood up, going toe-to-toe with the man named Michael. “Is it really that threatening to you that your friend met someone going through something similar, so he started spending time with them?”

“How the fuck is PTSD anything like Cancer?” Michael spat out at him in response, not answering the initial question.

“What the fuck does it matter to you.” Justin was done. He had seen Brian, so now his brain had settled, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to stand there and be attacked by other people in Brian’s life.

“Justin, please don’t go.” Emmett stepped forward and begged him.

“I should get some sleep. I have to work tomorrow. Thank you for bringing me here, Em.” Justin surprised himself and Emmett by wrapping the man into a deep hug.

“Come by tomorrow after work, honey. I’m sure Brian will be grateful to see you.” Debbie spoke up.

Justin nodded and gave Emmett another hug. Then he went back down to the hospital’s main lobby and walked out into the night air. It was only just now 9 pm, and the weather wasn’t too cold. Justin needed the time to think over everything that happened, so instead of calling a cab he decided to walk the mile to his and Daphne’s apartment.

As he walked, he thought about how much his life had become intertwined with Brian’s without actually being introduced to the whole picture. Somehow, Justin had come to rely on Brian without knowing his family or his friends. And while Brian had repeatedly told Justin he was never in the way when he came by the office, Justin couldn’t help wondering if it had all been a lie.

Michael’s words rang in his ears. Was he being weird and inserting himself into Brian’s life where he wasn’t wanted? Did Brian feel the same way about it as Michael? Sure, in the hospital room Brian had seemed concerned about Justin, but that could just be an act. It could just be human decency, worrying about someone you know as an acquaintance. There was no way Brian actually wanted Justin around or even wanted him to visit him in the hospital. Once was enough. He wouldn’t bother the man again. After all, the nurse had said he needed his rest.

[thewonderknight]

Between Link and Revali who do you think Saki would see more as a son and have more of a parental bond with?

This is quite the interesting question to receive!

Well for these types of questions, I like to look at them objectively, so I can answer in way where it makes sense, and so my thoughts are understand.

Personally I think Saki would likely see Link as more of a son and develop a stronger parental bond with him compared to Revali, even though he's from the same race.

This is in many ways similar to the case where I was asked who Tulin would have a closer bond with, and like that ask, Link would ultimately have a closer relationship with Saki primarily due to the time Link would have spent with her and her family, including Teba her husband, and her son, Tulin.

Link’s consistent presence in their lives over several years creates a sense of camaraderie and shared experiences, not to mention he's resolved serious problems that have happened within Rito Village during that time. As he engages with Teba and Tulin, Saki would naturally feel closer to him, seeing him not just as a heroic figure, but as an integral part of her family. His commitment to protecting Hyrule and supporting her family whenever he can, would deepen her affection and admiration for him. Plus I do feel considering how young Link is, physically and mentally, Saki's maternal instincts would kick in fairly quickly, as Link would have spent more than enough time with her, to where a close relationship would be established.

In contrast, while Revali possesses great skill and a strong sense of pride, not to mention his status as the Rito Champion, I don't think his personality would resonate with Saki in the same familial way. I do believe Saki would be there support him when needed, and I do believe Revali would appreciate the aid from her when given, however his more aloof demeanour, penchant for isolation, and focus on his own accomplishments would prevent Saki from fostering the same emotional connection that Link's constant involvement and care for her family would.

That's without mentioning Revali belittling Link in front of Saki wouldn't to him any favours, considering Link has saved their village twice, the life of her husband and actively helped nurture Tulin in the young warrior he is today.

Ultimately, all in all, it’s Link’s many interactions over a long period of time and shared moments with Teba and Tulin that would result in him being seen as a son-like figure to Saki, in comparison to Revali, who I feel she would see more as a fellow Rito warrior that she can provide support for when needed.

[littleskeletonprincessss]

I love you - Ryan Magee x Reader

A/N I'm sorry i'm so bad at endings.

He laid there, staring at the ceiling fan.

Normally, the rhythmic spinning would calm his mind enough that he would be able to fall asleep. But tonight, his mind wasn't running 75 miles a minute with millions of little video and skit ideas that'd he'd need to remember to bring up to Matt tomorrow. No, tonight, his mind could only focus on one thing.

Her.

He glanced to his left at the empty space next to him.

She'd got to work two mornings ago, after they'd both gone to bed angry after a fight, and by the end of the first day he'd received a single text.

'Staying w/friend 4 a while.'

She wasn't one to use abbreviations when texting so he knew she was still upset and purposely keeping it short.

There hadn't been any contact since.

He turned his head back to the fan with a heavy sigh. They'd been fighting a lot lately. When they first started dating, arguments - if you could even call them that - would end in laughter and the occasional make out after realizing how stupid they were being. Now, fights would start at the drop of a passive comment about the other not starting the dishwasher, or putting the laundry on to dry. And the more often they fought, the more serious things they'd suppressed feelings about would come to a head. He'd shown up late to dinner one too many times. She didn't show enough support for his career. Eventually it felt like the only thing they really had left was sex, but neither of them wanted to address it.

That wasn't true for him though. He loved her with all his heart and he knew a long time ago that there wouldn't be another girl for him, she was the one he wanted to spend forever with.

He pressed his palms into his eyes once he realized he had started to cry. He couldn't lose her, or if he did, not without trying.

Grabbing his phone off his nightstand he pulled up her contact. The picture of her smiling face looked back at him, the same smile that made all his bad days better. He saw his lips pressed against her cheek, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist from behind as she took the picture. It was taken on their last anniversary, when he'd taken her on her dream trip to Italy. Back when he was a better boyfriend.

It hurt to swallow as his thumb hovered over the message icon. What if she didn't want to talk to him? What if he'd been blocked? Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding he started a new message.

'Can we talk?'

Send. He put the phone down and turned on his side facing her half of the bed, hugging her pillow tight to his chest where she should have been, and closed his eyes, inhaling the fading scent of her, trying to calm himself down.

The phone vibrated quietly against the blankets but it may as well have been a gunshot in his ears. Heart pounding and hands shaking, he looked at the screen.

'Coffee?'

--------------

Ryan stood in front of the bathroom mirror after already spending too long picking an outfit for today.

It was 11:30 and they had made plans to meet at their favorite coffee spot at noon.

He pulled his hair back in a tight bun, the way she liked, and looked at his reflection. He spent a little more time this morning, making sure he looked the best he could. She always told him that she didn't care what he looked like, that she loved him for who he was, but she deserved someone who looked as good as she always did.

Zipping up his jacket, he walked out of the bathroom into his room to grab his phone. Lego laid on her side of the bed, whining.

"I know buddy," Ryan said, sitting next to him and scratching him behind the ears. "I miss her too."

A small PING pulled Ryan's attention away from the dog.

'I'm here. I'll order.'

Ryan stood and walked out the door, grabbing his keys from their place on the hook that she'd insisted on buying, locking it behind him and heading downstairs.

---

Pulling open the heavy cafe door, Ryan stepped inside, thinking back to the memories they'd shared here.

Their first date, he'd made dinner reservations at an outdoor restaurant without checking the weather forecast and they'd ended up wet and freezing. The cafe across the street was quiet when they ran in, the bell over the door ringing to signal their arrival. Picking a corner table next to a big window, fireplace not far away, they sat and talked to get to know each other. The fire drying their clothes, and their drinks warming their insides - black coffee for him and apple cider for her - they stayed until closing, neither wanting the night to end.

The time he asked her to officially be his. He smiled as he remember how she'd laughed, saying she already thought she was.

The first time they said 'I love you'. It wasn't even a date, exactly. They were just hanging out and when she caught him staring, she asked what was wrong. Without thinking, he'd blurted the words, eyes going wide as dinner plates when he realized. She flashed him that perfect smile again and said she loved him too.

So many good memories, he prayed that today wouldn't end in a bad one that would erase them all.

Glancing around, he found her sitting at their table in the corner, warm by the fireplace. She looks perfect he though, taking her in. Her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, and her face looked so perfect that he wouldn't think she was real had he not known her. She was wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of leggings, his favorite outfit on her, though he'd never told her that.

He stepped toward the table, slowly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere she gave off.

"Hey."

Her head turned to glance at him and her eyes nearly took his breath away, the way they always did.

"Ryan, hey."

She stood up and after a moment they hugged each other awkwardly, not nearly as long or as tight as he needed.

"I um, I got you a coffee. I hope that's okay." She said, sitting back down and motioning towards the steaming mug.

"Yeah, that's great. Thank you." he said, sitting across from her. "You uh, you look good - beautiful."

"Thank you." She blushed. "You don't look bad yourself."

He half smiled. He was glad they were talking, but he also knew it wasn't their normal.

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment.

"Ryan I--"

"I miss you." He interrupeted, without meaning to. "So much. I'm sorry we've been fighting so much lately." He grabbed her hand. He knew it was sudden, he didn't care, he just needed her to know.

"Ryan, I miss you too." She whispered.

"I hope you know that I don't mean to miss dates, or show up late to dinner. Nothing is more important to me than you and I promise I'm going to try harder to be there on time and I love you so much and--"

"Ry. Ryan, calm down." She placed her soft hand on his cheek, tucking a loose piece of hair behind his ear as she stopped his rambling. "I love you too, Ryan."

Those words alone lifted a weight off his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been as supportive as I could be when it comes to your career. I really am proud of you, and Matt too, for working so hard to be successful with your channel and your podcast."

Ryan smiled, then wiped his eye, stopping it from tearing up.

"Come back home. Please." he begged, intertwining their fingers.

"I don't know, Ryan. I miss you, and I miss Lego for sure. But are you sure it's a good idea? What if we just go back to fighting all the time? I know we both want to be better but we get busy and it gets harder. What if we decide that we don't want to deal with it all anymore and we just...end?" She was the one rambling now, and the more she spoke the faster she went, tears misting her eyes.

"Hey, hey. Calm down." Ryan stood up to sit next to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She buried her head in his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck, like she was scared to let go.

"Listen to me. I am never going to want to end anything with you. I love you too fuckin' much to do that. If you don't want to come back to the apartment right now, that's fine. I'll understand. But please, come back to me? I can't stand not seeing you or talking to you everyday. You're my best friend and these last couple days have been complete hell without you." Pulling back he kissed her forehead and wiped tears from her cheeks.

"Maybe...maybe we can go back to the apartment and watch a movie or something?" She sniffled, wiping her eyes with a napkin.

"I'd love that." Ryan smiled kissing her forehead again.

----------------------------------

The walk back to Ryan's apartment was a complete 180 from the heavy feeling at the cafe. They spent the trip laugh and joking around, the rockiness in their relationship never coming up.

The only stop they made was a pizza place around the corner for dinner before finally reaching his front door where Lego barreled down the hall, jumping on her and assaulting her with kisses.

"Okay, Okay Lego! I missed you too buddy! Who's a good puppy?" She laughed, bending down to hug him. It was one of Ryan's favorite sights to see her with Lego, loving him as much as Ryan did.

"Alright buddy, come on." Ryan set the pizzas on the counter, leading Lego over to his bed and giving him a treat before bringing the pizza's into the living room and setting them on the coffee table.

Handing her the remote, Ryan took a slice of pizza, sitting back against the cushions and throwing his arm across the back. She scrolled through until settling on a movie, leaving grabbing her own slice and leaning back.

Ryan wasn't sure if she was aware of it, or if it was his own mind playing tricks on him, but she seemed to scoot ever so slightly closer to his side. Smiling to himself, he grabbed another slice and turned his attention to the screen.

----------

A few movies later she grabbed one of his controllers, switching to Mario Kart.

"Want to play?" she offered, handing him the other controller. "I'll let you win."

"Fuck you, you will. I'll let you win if anything. Ryan responded, taking the controller and entering the game.

-----------

A few hours later they looked at the time.

"Wow, I've been here for while. Sorry, I didn't mean to stay this long." she yawned, stretching her back.

"No, don't worry about it."

"I should probably go." she sighs, standing up and starting to gather her things.

"Oh. Yeah, okay." He stands, following her to the door.

"Thanks, Ryan. Today was great."

"Yeah, it was." he says, biting the inside of his cheek as she puts her hand on the doorknob.

"I'll see you." she says, opening the door.

"You don't have to leave." Ryan blurts.

"Ryan?"

"I mean, if you want to, I won't stop you. I told you that you didn't have to come home yet, and I'll stick to that. But you don't have to leave, if you don't want to. I mean-" He rubs his mouth, stopping himself from rambling again.

"Actually...I'd love to stay, if you're okay with it." She grins, shutting the door.

Walking to the bedroom, she opens his closet grabbing a tank top to change in to and lies on her side of the bed while Ryan pulls off his gym shorts, sliding next to her and wrapping his arm around her waist out of habit.

"Ry?"

"Oh, fuck. Sorry." he apologizes, pulling his arm back.

"No, Ry-" she turns over to face him. "I love you." she states, meeting his lips with her own for a short but meaningful kiss.

Turning back, Ryan responded with his own 'I love you', replacing his arm and burying his face into the back of her neck, nuzzling her as they both nodded off to sleep.

------------------

Ryan woke a few hours later, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

Had it all been a dream?

He looked to his side and found her slightly curled up, snoring softly.

He smiles, leaning down to kiss her shoulder, seeing her tattoo and thinking back to when she'd first showed him.

-------------

She walked in to the apartment one day standing in front of him and simply saying "I have a surprise for you."

Ryan was surprised- it wasn't his birthday or their anniversary - and his curiosity only grew as she started pulling off her shirt.

"What are you-" he smirked, turning off the TV.

"Shut the hell up. Just look." She said, sitting on the couch and turning her back to him.

Noticing the bandage on her shoulder he was only slightly worried as he pulled up the corner to see what it was hiding.

---------------

It was his name. Just 'Ryan' with a dainty heart at the end.

He looked at it now and knew that they wouldn't end. He loved her an almost impossible amount and, for some reason, she felt the same way. They'd have their struggles, but that made it worth fighting for, in the end.

Kissing her tattoo gently, he whispered in her ear, telling her once again, even in her sleep.

"I love you, so much."