#i am slow and it's so overindulgent in a lot of ways that only i specifically understand that i die of mania and cringe every time i write

[icicleteeth]

Another quirk to Warmhoney Steppe fic that I’ve been writing over the course of a year on and off (that I never talk about lol) that I’m only just noticing is the overabundance of fish metaphors I’m sorry I’m like this 😶

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) - Part 1/6

This is a little something that was floating around in my head. This is the 1st of a 2-part series. Let me know your thoughts! :)

---

It wasn't like how it was back in the 8th. Not anymore. Back then, his overindulgence of sake the night before meant sleeping late into the afternoon till Nanao-chan deemed it necessary to come find him. 

Last night, he'd spent a bit of time with Ukitake, toasting his life with just a cup of sake. It had meant to be just one cup but toasting his best friend's life in front of his memorial slowly spiraled into a full-on imbibing session to forget the reality.

And now, here he was, in his office way before he wanted to be, keeping his eye open by force. Being the Soutaicho took a lot out of him. Especially his sleep. Not to mention his peace of mind.

At least he had Nanao-chan.

"Taichou," she called out to him, softer than usual. She didn't hesitate when needed to snap him out of his laziness with a strategic slap from her kido text book but she couldn't today. Not when she knew where he'd been last night. 

They never really spoke of it but Ukitake-Taichou's death had hit him hard. Now, even ten years or so later, the pain was yet to lessen. She thought it was understandable and perfectly reasonable. You couldn't stop missing someone who'd been by your side for over a millennia in the matter of decades. So she tried to be softer on him when she could.

"Hmm," he murmured startled out of his own company.

"You're here early."

The shock in her voice made him give her a lazy impertinent smile. "Or I never left."

She shook her head in disapproval but said no more. Instead, she laid out the mail and some paperwork in front of him before settling down at her own desk to see what was on their agenda for the day.

Most of it were fund requests and what not from divisions for certain projects. There were some formal correspondence addressed to the 1st Division. Among it all was one envelope that caught his eye. For one, it was far too fancy to be just another Squad related missive. It was also addressed to him too casually - "Kyouraku Shunsui" written in an elegant feminine hand with no mention of his title or division in sight. He suspected it to be a hand delivered invitation of some sort so he opened it first.

The contents left his mouth opened in awe.

Dear Shunsui-kun,

Even if I lived a million lives, and felt a million things, I still would've fallen a million times for you.

I wish I could forget the distance that lies between us and truly tell you what's in my heart but...

You are you and I am me, and I don't know how it all could ever be.

So let me leave my love for you confined to these words and hope some day this distance won't matter.

That love alone would be enough.

Until then,

With much love,

Your secret admirer.

Nanao glanced up at him. Noticing his strange expression, she almost laughed but her professionalism made her bite it back. "What is it?" she asked calmly.

Startled, he held the paper he was reading to his chest, as if trying to hide its contents. "Nothing!" he told her.

Nanao narrowed her eyes at him, knowing very well that it was not in fact nothing. But she didn't push further. He seemed excited for some reason, and despite her curiosity, she was reluctant to burst that bubble. She hadn't seen her Taichou excited - genuinely truly excited - for anything in so long. Not since the Quincy war. He'd lost so much in one single war - his eye, his father figure, his best friend, and his freedom to name just a few. It was a rarity to see him with that mischievous glint in his eye so she let it go.

He stuffed the missive inside the inner pocket of his haori that was usually reserved for sneaking in sake to unacceptable places. "So, how do you want to torture me today, Nanao-chan?" he asked.

She took a pile of forms and dumped them on his desk. "Sign these, Taichou, and I might let you out for lunch."

"Lunch?" He glanced at the pile in front of him in mock-despair. "It's barely 8 in the morning! You are mean, Nanao-chan," he whined.

She ignored him mostly, and concentrated on her own work while he whined on and off. They were used to this dynamic. It felt familiar in a world full of responsibilities and burdens.

As Shunsui mindlessly lazed over the paperwork, his thoughts kept drifting to the letter he had received. Even though he'd only read it once, he could remember it word to word. And he kept wondering who it could be - this secret admirer. 

The letter smelled of lemon and books. The script elegant and neat. Definitely a woman. He was certain of it. But as much as he thought of it, he couldn't come to a clear conclusion who it could be.

---

The next one came a few days later - almost a week had gone by. It was left on the window sill he usually napped on when he could and was the first thing he saw the moment he arrived back from lunch seeking his favorite nap spot to take in some afternoon sun. 

Nanao was scribbling away at something at her own desk, oblivious to his shock and dilemma. He quickly walked up to it and opened it as quickly as he could without tearing it in the haste.

This time, the contents actually made him gasp.

Nanao looked at him with a strange expression on her face, so he quickly schooled his expression to one of normalcy. 

"Taichou?" she inquired.

"Who was in the office after I went to lunch?"

She found his question strange but answered nonetheless. "I was here for a bit, waiting on some paperwork from the 13th. Then I went out to get lunch myself. I got back just a few minutes before you did, actually."

"Was this here when you left?" He held up the letter, now carefully folded once more.

"Uh. I'm not sure. I suppose I didn't notice it. Why? What is it?" she asked.

"Oh nothing. Just wondering...don't mind me," he said, dismissing it casually. Too casually. "I'm going for a walk."

"Taichou, you just got back."

"Well, I'm going again. See you in a bit, Nanao-chan!" he said cheerily, sauntering out before she could stop him.

Once at the tree under which he usually sought his solitude, he settled down and re-read the letter.

Dear Shunsui,

Sometimes, I wish I was the sun, so I may linger upon your skin. 

I wish I was the sake you sip, so I may kiss upon your lips, with none the wiser to our love. 

To let my body drown in yours under the moonlight, to love you endlessly in anyway you'd let me.

I yearn for you. You could never know just how much I wish you were truly mine, nor how much I wish I was forever yours.

Love,

Your secret admirer.

Unlike the one before, this was more serious and sensual. His secret admirer was attempting to seduce him with her words. 

It was working, he realized, as his mind instantly went to thinking of slow lovemaking under the moonlit sky on a crisp summer night. Perhaps under this very tree, away from prying eyes. The thought had him adjusting his hakama unconsciously as his body responded.

Who was she? he asked himself, uselessly. And he vowed to himself that he would find her out. But in the meantime, he decided to enjoy being romanced and seduced by an ardent admirer.

After all, it wasn’t every day that Soutaicho got sensual love letters...

---

Part 2

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[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 2

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! This is kind of consuming me so you’ll be getting these pretty often, I hope! thanks to @sancocnutclub for all her encouragement ;)

rated T / 2.2k words / part 1 / AO3

He didn’t wake until mid morning the next day, and was still fairly fatigued, but otherwise felt alright—just a bit tender about the middle. 

A shower helped dissolve most of the lingering soreness, and he took some time in front of the mirror to look for any changes. 

Given that his stomach had never returned to its previous hardened state, it was hard to notice any discernible change in shape, but when he poked around, there was definitely a rounded area that hadn’t been there before. 

He also took a moment to memorize his body as it was; it wouldn’t be long before the babes made their presence visibly known, and the changes that happened while pregnant with Hope were still fresh in his mind. He was both glad that Belle was keeping track of his stats, and already dreading it. 

But she was probably waiting for him, so he needed to get a move on—and something to eat; he was starting to feel peckish, but couldn’t tell whether or not it was more than usual. 

His normal jeans still fit comfortably, albeit a hair snug. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d relish it while it did. At least his shirts would last longer; he’d found a new appreciation for the forgiving cotton knits of this realm in his second trimester. 

Emma was already at the station when he got downstairs, but she’d left behind plenty of pancakes, and he ate a few more than normal; he wasn’t sure how to interpret that. 

Before heading to the library, he went to pick up Hope from her sleepover with her grandparents. David greeted him at the door, with tiny Ruth asleep on his chest.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, hardly able to keep his eyes away from Killian’s midsection.

“Fine, as far as I could tell. Weird, but fine.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, thankfully, but I’m sure there will be plenty of aches and pains later.”

David winced. “Man, am I glad they asked you and not me. This one was enough,” he said, patting Ruth’s back gently.

“I don’t disagree, but…”

“But you feel like you owe them,” David finished. 

“Aye.”

“Well, I think it’ll be the other way around by the end of this, but we’ll help you out as much as we can.”

“I appreciate it—and I’m sure we’ll need it with this one,” he replied, nodding at Hope, who was attempting to escape out a window.

She was easily wrangled, though, and happy to see him. He had no idea what fairy infants were like, but if they were half as charming as his daughter (who definitely took after her grandfather), this whole town would revolve around them.

As he thought, Belle was waiting for him, tape measure in hand. “Seriously?” he griped as he set Hope down next to Gideon in the playpen behind the circulation desk.

“You can’t possibly be surprised,” she threw back. “But if it’s any consolation, I won’t do it again until next week.”

“You only did it monthly last time around.”

“You were only carrying one babe.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

Though his waist measurement remained unchanged, his weight was slightly higher (more than could be expected by a few extra pancakes). “I can feel it,” he confirmed when she asked. “There’s definitely something in there, though I only notice it if I go looking for it.”

Belle made a note and then flipped back and forth between some pages. “That matches up with when you found out you were expecting Hope; so do your measurements, and that was, what 8 weeks?”

“Yeah, thereabouts.”

“Second pregnancies do show sooner, too.”

“Especially this one,” he grumbled. 

“Oh yeah,” she agreed.

The day continued normally, although his hand did gravitate to his stomach pretty often, without thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t noticeable, he still knew what was there, and his subconscious seemed to have already set out to protect it—that, or his hormones were already starting to affect him. 

Based on his reaction when Emma arrived that afternoon—particularly to his train of thought when she bent down to pick up a napping Hope—it was definitely hormones. His jeans felt a very different kind of tight then; something he acted on later that night, after a slightly larger than usual dinner. 

“Those hormones kicked in fast,” a sated Emma breathed as they came down from their shared high. “You haven’t been that voracious since we found out we were having a girl.”

“Are you complaining?” he panted. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Good.” And they went for another round. 

In fact, he was so insatiable the next couple of weeks that, despite his elevated appetite, no other discernible change in his weight was noticed; his waist actually went down a bit.

“Are you feeling alright? Keeping food down and everything?” Belle asked, worried, as she recorded his 2-week measurements, comparing them to his 10-week from his first pregnancy. “Last time, you couldn’t eat more than chicken rice about now.”

“Trust me—I feel more than fine,” he assured her. “Were it not for Emma’s implanted contraception, we’d likely need to be planning for a more traditional pregnancy.”

“That’s a very eloquent way of saying you can’t keep your hands off your wife.”

“I could have phrased it crudely—how many synonyms for ‘sex’ did you want Gideon to learn today?”

“None!” she exclaimed, covering her son’s impressionable ears. He was at the age when he repeated anything said around him—a fact they noticed when Gideon’s favorite phrase became “bloody hell.”

“What are uncles for, though?” he teased with a wink. 

Belle just groaned and threatened to teach Hope how to read with romance novels. Killian, however, was just glad she slept through the night so she didn’t interrupt the real thing. 

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

Where there had been some hubbub about town during Killian’s first pregnancy—and quite a lot of gawking—no one seemed as shocked this time around. They’d made no effort to keep it a secret, letting the Storybrooke rumor mill do its job, but either the town was more aware than Killian had been about fairy reproduction, or they had become jaded to such magical oddities (he assumed the latter).

That said—he had to assume the gawking would eventually return. 

Especially with the way Granny was feeding him. To be fair, she wasn’t letting him overindulge, but he’d noticed his portions were larger, and the amount of vegetables increased. He wondered if Blue had given her some nutritional instruction, or if it was just her innate grandmotherly instincts. 

The first time she slid an extra helping of broccoli over, he tried to protest, delicious as it looked. 

“Oh no—eat up, young man,” she commanded. “If my math is right, you’re eating for 10. I should probably be feeding you more, actually.”

Emma snickered next to him—they were on lunch break from the station—but he wasn’t sure if it was at Granny’s tutting or the fact that Killian had just realized the magnitude of…well, all of it. 

So when Granny slid some extra onion rings across the counter, he didn’t complain (but obviously shared them with his wife).

He wanted to blame it on those extra treats—onion rings, fries, pie, muffins—when they noticed an expansion in his waist measurement at 3 weeks, but it was definitely the babes; he could still wear his normal jeans, but was seeing some rounding behind his navel. 

And at 4 weeks—a month since the babes were transferred—it could finally be deemed a bump: there was a gentle curve to his whole stomach, from just under his pecs to his hips (which had been aching a bit as they widened some, likely in anticipation of the heavy load to come). Given the way he and Emma’s evening activities hadn’t slowed, he knew it was all the babies. 

Belle hummed as she compared the notes she’d just taken with those from last time. “Well, that’s interesting,” she commented.

“What is?” Emma asked; she’d joined them for that week’s check in, curious to see where things were.

“This week’s measurements match up with those from the end of the first trimester last time, which I suppose isn’t a huge surprise, but…”

“But I have a lot more to go than two trimesters,” he finished.

All eyes were on his stomach for a long while after that, likely all wondering the same thing: just how large would he get?

The only thing that took their attention away was the ringing of the bell over the door as someone arrived—Blue, it turned out. “Hi,” she greeted, clearly trying to be casual. “Just wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d stay away from him for the duration of the pregnancy, although he had expected more subtle surveillance.

They chatted briefly about how he was feeling, and she studied his stomach with an outstretched hand, he assumed to do her own magical assessment. “Yes, they seem to be doing quite well; that’s good.”

“Did you think they weren’t?” Emma quipped.

“No, of course not,” Blue assured her. “Would it be odd to express my excitement?”

Well, they all understood that. “How long has it been since your last brood?” Belle had to ask.

“Over fifty years,” Blue answered. “They’re usually every five to ten, depending on the solstice.”

“And when you don’t have a series of curses in the way,” Emma added.

Blue glanced over Belle’s notes with interest. “That does seem to match up with past broods, though I don’t think anyone ever thought to take such detailed notes.”

“Are there any?” Belle asked. “I don’t have anything here, but if you had some back at the convent, it’d be great for comparison.”

“I’d have to check our library,” Blue answered. “There might be a few scrolls, but we’re not much for recorded history.”

“I can tell,” Belle complained.

After some more chatting, Blue excused herself, but did ask if it was alright if she checked in periodically.

“Of course,” Killian said. “It’s your brood. Plus, I’m certain we’ll need to take you up on the offer of help sooner rather than later, if this is where I’m already at after only 4 weeks,” he added, gesturing to his still-small bump.

“Absolutely,” Blue said. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled her wand out of nowhere and twirled it at Killian’s midsection. His skin grew warm for a moment, but then returned to normal. “I’m not sure if the original spell will account for the size, as far as how it treats your skin; that should eliminate any damage.”

“No stretch marks?” he wondered.

“No—not any new ones, at least.”

“Oh, thank goodness.”

She then left as quickly as she appeared.

“Guess that’s something we’ll have to get used to,” he sighed, and then they went about their day. But he was starting to grow very concerned about what lay ahead for him; he knew this wouldn’t be a small feat, but was worried it would be more than he could handle.

As time progressed, his bump steadily grew, though not unnaturally so. At 5 weeks, it was yet more noticeable; at 6, he finally had to concede defeat and dig out his maternity jeans, though they were still plenty roomy. By the end of the second month, he wasn’t quite where he’d been at the end of his second trimester, but it was definitely a baby bump—roughly where he’d been around 24 weeks with Hope, even though he was only at 8 with this one.

It was around then, though, that he noticed the first flutterings inside. He thought he’d noticed it the week before, but chalked it up to gas or something like that; Granny had been feeding him a lot of black beans lately. But late one night, after yet another glorious session of lovemaking, Emma’s hand had drifted to his belly and even she took notice.

“Wow, they’re actually starting to move in there, huh?”

“Seems like it. You don’t suppose they actually have wings already, do they?”

“Normal babies hardly have limbs at this stage, so probably not.”

They lay peacefully in the afterglow for a bit, before he asked quietly, “You are okay with this, right?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d ask, nor was it likely to be the last. But it was a large undertaking and though she hadn’t exactly protested, he knew it wasn’t something she’d have volunteered for.

“For the hundredth time, yes. Even if this was partly fueled by guilt, I know you probably would have agreed anyway, and that big heart is why I love you so much. And can I say something else?”

“What’s that, love?”

“I was so attracted to you with that baby bump last time, even when you thought you were massive. So as long as your libido holds out, I think we’re both going to be very happy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, I think I might need some convincing.”

“Then let me show you.” And oh, she did.

Gods, he prayed he’d be able to do that for a while. The next several months were going to be very interesting.

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[1tarot1with1k1o]

hey! congrats on 50 followers! :)

if you still have spots for your game, I would love to take part! I was gonna ask a reading on my career? I am planning on going into the medical field and i would love to hear your thoughts!

thank you! And take your time! School and work can get to be a lot

Hi! Thank you <333

cards I got: 9 of wands, 2 of swords, 8 of pentacles

I mostly asked for advice on career matters for you, so take this however it best feels fitting to your situation. (I didn’t ask specifically about taking the medical path). They didn’t really give clear clarification in regards to the messages I’ve received, so I feel that it is something you have to ponder on, by yourself. (Obviously if it’s too unclear at the end, you can come back to ask for further help. I definitely won’t turn you down).

They’re telling you to not give up or feel defeated when things won’t go your way. Even if you were expecting a certain result, if you don’t get it, it’s because there’s something much more valuable awaiting you, later on.

The path you’re taking, might put a lot of pressure on you. There might be a lot of things going on at the same time, and perhaps at times you might feel overwhelmed. But they know you can do it. They fully trust you to win every obstacle you might face, and even achieve more than you were expecting to. You might doubt yourself at times, but they want you to remember you’re doing your best, and that you don’t have to be perfect at all times.

You definitely will manage to achieve your goals in the future. So even if you might feel lost from time to time, try to not get too discouraged about it!

Sometimes, compromises might be needed in order to advance. Value wisely your options, and what they can give you in the long run. They’re advising you to not choose what you think would more appeal others, but to choose for yourself. What makes YOU happy? That’s what you should always ask yourself.

Sometimes less is more. Stressing too much, or working more than you should, won’t really help you achieve your goals faster; quite the opposite actually. You might slow down the process by wanting to “impress” yourself and others. Taking extra steps can only cause you to feel fatigued sooner. So take it slow, and proceed only with the necessary tasks. It will be enough (they’re a lot of work as it is…).

Taking a logical approach, rather than a more emotional one, will be more beneficial to you, more times than not. Going after what your heart desires it’s wonderful! Just make sure to not overindulge in that mindset too much, and to actually ponder in a smart way about which prospect would aid you more.

I see you liking to learn new things, as well as getting deeper into the craft as time goes by. I think you love experimenting and discovering different things. But if you have perfectionist tendencies, try to acknowledge when you’re getting too lost in the pursuit of perfection, and take a step back. Look at the situation from a different perspective, and remind yourself that you got to this point all by yourself. So you can do it, and there’s always room for improvement. You’re just starting to “grow”, so it’s okay to make mistakes along the way. It’s just human!! Convincing yourself that you aren’t capable, might take the motivation to do stuff, away from you. So remember to keep a positive outlook (as much as you can sweetheart), and respect your progress; no matter how fast or slow it might be. They want to tell you “You’ve got this!!”, and encourage you to embrace your dreams.

I hope this helped you somehow. I felt very tired while doing your reading. To the point I completed it in 5 times haha. I had to take long breaks. If it’s your energy that I was picking up on, please TAKE A BREAK. You’ve worked really hard, and you must feel pretty tired. So just relax whenever you need to!!

If you have doubts, feel free to ask for clarification! Thanks a lot for waiting so patiently. Much love!! <333

[justlightlysedated]

I would love to know more about the aftermath of your planetary alignment fic - chapter 11 of the Untitled Collection of Malex Fics. What happens the next day?

a continuation of this

Maria was expecting to have at least forty-eight hours to wallow in self pity and then pick herself up and dust herself off and forget she ever heard the name Michael Guerin, but of course, she doesn't even get a full twenty-four hours to prepare herself before Michael shows up at her door.

Maria gets startled out of the daze she'd been in staring blankly at the tv while the local morning show was going on, and she looks to her right first where Isobel is passed out with her mouth open, drooling on one of the cushions, snoring slightly, hair a disheveled mess, one arm hanging down from the couch, an empty bottle brushing the tips of her fingers.

The knocking sound comes again and Maria looks away from Isobel to the door, and she wonders who the hell it could be this early.

A quick glance at her phone tells her that it's nearly ten, but the question still remains.

She pushes herself up to her feet, and walks, or well more like shuffles towards the door.

She doesn't think that she's still drunk, because her head is beginning to ache in the way it does when she overindulges. She definitely doesn't want to be sober, so she detours towards the kitchen and finds an open bottle of wine, halfway done and grabs that.

The knocking sounds again, this time sounding a touch impatient, and Maria definitely feels like she needs to rip into someone and it may as well be whatever asshole decided to knock on her door today.

She walks towards the door, and barely looks at her reflection. She already knows she looks like she spent the night drinking and hadn't gotten any sleep, but she doesn't particularly care.

Well, she doesn't care until she pulls the door open, mouth open ready to curse someone out, and finds herself face to face with Michael.

Michael might look a little twitchy, fingers clenching and unclenching, and rocking on his heels, like an addict jonesing for a fix, but the second his eyes catch hers, she feels her heart shattering even more.

It's not just that he looks completely focused, it's that she hasn't seen him look so completely clear headed in weeks, months never mind the last couple of days.

He looks almost like he got something that he'd been missing, and it's that thought more than anything that fuels the embers of her anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Maria asks harshly. "Shouldn't you be elsewhere fucking your brains out?"

Michael winces a little, but he also looks back towards where his truck is parked in front of her house.

Maria doesn't want to see if Alex is in the truck or not so she keeps her gaze resolutely on Michael's face.

If she were thinking more clearly, she knows that she technically can't be upset that he cheated on her, because they're not dating at the moment, but it hurts more than she thought it would, the thought that it's probably for good this time.

It hurts even more to know that the person who has him now is Alex, not because it's Alex per se, but because it was always Alex.

Alex is the common denominator before and now after.

She feels like a waypoint. Like their relationship both good and bad, was just something for Michael to do to pass the time before he was ready to be with Alex again.

And that's what hurts more than anything.

"Yeah, listen, I'm sorry, about how this happened," Michael starts turning to look back at her, eyes wide and pleading, like he wants her to try to understand and be forgiving, but Maria passed that two bottles of wine ago, and she really doesn't feel like being understanding and forgiving.

She understands that she went after Michael even with the knowledge of how Alex felt. She understands that Alex in his own way, told her that he was still in love with Michael when she'd finally bit the bullet and went to talk to him. She can even forgive Alex for pushing her to date Michael since he'd thought that was what Michael wanted.

But she has no interest or desire to understand and forgive Michael for this. Maybe if she had been the one to admit that their relationship wasn't working it would've been another matter entirely, but this last breakup had been because Michael needed the space, and she had been hoping that this whole thing would've brought them back together again.

Maria shakes her head, cutting off whatever Michael had been about to say.

"I don't forgive you," she tells him, and Michael takes a step backwards, eyes going even bigger and hurt. "You told me that whatever was between you and Alex was long over. You came to me and gave me pretty speeches about wanting to protect me. You begged for me to give you another chance every time that we broke up. You told me that I was the only thing that mattered. You promised that we were good, and that we were solid and what you wanted. But when it was actually important, it all turned out to just be words. Pretty, empty words you said because it's what you thought that I wanted to hear."

Michael shakes his head, taking a step closer, causing her to take one backwards.

“I know it might not seem like it now, but I meant every word that I said to you,” he tells her, and he sounds so earnest that Maria is inclined to believe him.

But she still scoffs and looks away from him, shaking her head.

“I mean it,” Michael says, and she hears him shuffling his feet like he’s trying not to move closer. “I really did think that I had put Alex behind me, but I guess I was just lying to myself.”

He sounds a little sheepish and earnest, and Maria knows that he’s probably telling the truth, but she doesn’t want to deal with it right now. She thinks that after the last couple of months that they’ve had, she deserves at least a few days to be petty and wallow in self pity.

“Look,” she says, cutting off whatever else he’d been going to say. She turns back to look at him, and she can tell that even though he’s standing right in front of her, asking for forgiveness, his attention is starting to wander.

He looks behind him one more time before turning back towards her.

She shakes her head at him. “I understand what you’re trying to do, but you need to give me some space. It’s one thing if you’d decided to get back together with him. It’s something else that your alien biology almost killed you, and the only one who was able to save you was Alex. Okay?”

He looks at her like he still doesn’t understand where she’s coming from, but he takes a step backwards, rocking on his heels, fingers twitching on his side.

“Just, leave me alone for a bit,” she tells him, and at this he nods his head, giving her a look that she can’t really decipher.

“I really am sorry,” he tells her, and Maria just shakes her head again, and turns around and heads back inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

She stands right at the entrance, and listens as he leaves, taking a little too long to start the truck, and then waits until the sounds of the truck disappears, and only then does she let herself collapse against the door, sliding down to the floor.

She takes a swig from the forgotten wine bottle still in her hand, and leans her head back against the door, exhaling roughly, and willing herself not to cry.

-

Alex has to force himself to not actually get out of the truck when Michael’s emotions dive into sadness, before jolting up and down and all over the place, sending heat spiraling down the back of Alex’s neck, in a way that tells him that they might not make it back to his house in time.

He hadn’t wanted to stop at Maria’s house, but he knew that she was important to Michael even if they stopped dating, and he could feel how much he needed to do this, to clear the air between them.

So he let him go with minimal complaints.

He stares, barely keeping still as they talk, and he can tell from Maria’s body language that she doesn’t want to deal with Michael, and he holds his breath, waiting tense, until she closes the door.

Michael whirls around and hurries back to the truck like someone is chasing him, and he opens the door, and gets into the truck.

Alex barely lets him close the door behind him before he’s digging his fingers into Michael’s hair and pulling him in close for a kiss.

Michael gasps into his mouth and the desperation that had been slowly been making his skin crawl dissipates a little bit, just enough that Michael parts their mouths with a gasp, dropping his forehead to Alex’s and closing his eyes tightly, fingers digging into the back of Alex’s neck.

“Feel better?” Alex asks, already knowing the answer.

Michael just exhales softly, and shakes his head. “I’m still feeling guilty, but it’s only because I don’t feel guilty.”

He opens his eyes and stares at Alex, and Alex really doesn’t need him to explain, because he knows exactly how he feels.

“Let’s go home,” Alex says, just to see the way that Michael reacts to the words, smiling slow and sweet before he presses a kiss to Alex’s mouth again.

Alex can still feel the desperate feeling at the back of his head, and he’s sure that if he had paid more attention to Liz’s explanation yesterday he’d know exactly how long this was going to last, but at the moment, that was the furthest thing from his mind.

Michael lets him go, and turns to start the truck.

Alex reaches out, and grabs Michael’s hand, threading their fingers together, and leans back in his seat.

Michael squeezes their fingers together, and pulls away from the sidewalk.

Alex knows that there’s a lot of things that they have to talk about but at this very moment, he feels like no matter what happens now, they’re going to be okay.

[bicount-de-lettenhove]

Preferences are a privilege that Geralt doesn't get to have - Part 3: Toussaint just ain't the same without your bard

Not really any trigger warnings in this one, apart from drinking and a bit of self hate from Geralt

----------

After spending a long summer winding their way across the continent, Geralt and Jaskier find themselves in Toussaint as autumn sets in. It’s only a few weeks before the festival of the vat and the harvest is in full swing, the women and men of Toussaint out in the vineyards as long as the sun will allow it, the sweet smell of crushed grapes filling the air. Much to Jaskier’s surprise, Geralt agrees to stay for a few days. It’s only because Roach could do with the rest, especially with the long journey North looming, and so when Jaskier mentions the word ‘holiday’, Geralt shoots him a warning glare. Surprisingly, it isn’t mentioned again.

They quickly fall into the rhythm of life in Toussaint, and the bard is a bad influence and encourages Geralt to overindulge in women and in fine wine. Each night when he returns to his room he finds his coin purse a little lighter. On their sixth night, Jaskier plays his last set for the people of Beauclair and steps off the stage to riotous applause. Geralt is deep in a game of Gwent and before the round is up Jaskier is singing again - this time, without his lute, he’s leading the inn in a rowdy and seemingly neverending version of fishmonger’s daughter. Geralt wins the game and they start another, and Geralt can feel the comfortable warmth of the wine settling in his shoulders and knees, Jaskier’s songs fading to background noise as he concentrates.

Suddenly there’s a hand on his shoulder and then a yelp and Geralt finds himself with a lap full of bard, Jaskier sitting sideways on him, one hand braced on his shoulder, the other making a mess of the deck of cards on the table.

‘Oh, Geralt!’ he sounds slightly slurred, and Geralt can immediately feel the heat of him through their breeches, even in the warmth of the inn. ‘Thank Melitele that was you! I think…’ Jaskier turns his face towards Geralt. He trails off, his gaze dropping to Geralt’s mouth. Geralt suddenly realises how close the bard’s face is to his, their wine-sweet breath mingling in the space between them. Jaskier’s pink tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip, then he blinks rapidly and shakes his head minutely. ‘I think, my dear Geralt, that I am drunk.’

‘Hmm’ agrees Geralt.

‘And therefore, I think.’ he prods a finger into Geralt’s chest, frowning as if the coordination is taking all his concentration ‘that I am going to bed.’ The bard stands up with surprising speed and Geralt reaches out to steady him. ‘And furthermore,’ he adds, now facing away from Geralt and projecting more than is necessary. ‘I am going to your bed, because these people tip in wine, and hence I am penniless.’ He frowns again, like he’s forgotten something. ‘And drunk,’ he remembers. Then he adjusts his doublet and sways his way towards the stairs, gone as suddenly as he arrived. After Jaskier has left, Geralt continues his game, but his opponent is no longer playing as well as he was and he finds himself losing interest. It’s not long before he’s packing up his deck and climbing the stairs himself.

Inside their room it’s dark, but Jaskier has opened the windows onto the balcony so it’s cooler and a thin strip of moonlight is filtering through the thin curtains. The air is hardly moving but the thick scent of jasmine has filled the room from outside. Jaskier lies strewn across the bed as though he’s been dropped from a height. He’s taken his doublet and boots off and his shirt is open down to his navel, exposing his chest to the moonlight. Geralt carefully doesn’t look as he strips down to his smallclothes and climbs into what’s left of the space in the bed. He lies on his side, facing away from Jaskier, carefully arranging his limbs so he doesn’t risk taking advantage, but once he’s in the bard makes a soft, contented noise and folds himself around Geralt, throwing one arm over him and hooking his knees into the back of Geralt’s. Geralt stiffens slightly. It’s far too warm to lie like this, he thinks. It’ll take hours for him to sleep with the bard pressed up against him like some kind of lover.

It doesn’t.

The next morning, Jaskier complains tirelessly of sore feet and a sore head as they climb up through the vineyards. Geralt is trying to reach a mountain pass he last used several years ago.

‘Really, Geralt.’ the bard complains, each phrase punctuated by a dramatic huff of breath. ‘I don’t see why we can’t take a path that’s less hilly. Do you want me to pass out?’

Geralt grins. ‘There is another way. We could go through the flooded caves under the mountains and avoid the hills completely.’ Jaskier reconsiders - actually stops walking for a moment as though his brain and his feet can’t both be in use at once - and then has to jog to catch up.

‘Actually, you make a very good point.’ he concedes. ‘But at least we would be out of this relentless sunlight. I feel like someone’s used my head as a battering ram.’

‘Your hangover is your own fault, bard. You know the wine here isn’t watered down.’ Jaskier grimaces, as though the mention of wine physically pains him further.

‘Ah, well. One can’t say no to one’s adoring fans.’ He stops talking as he squints around at the view, his boots and Roach’s hooves scuffing on the dusty track. ‘How was your evening anyway, Geralt?’ He asks, lightly. ‘How was your Gwent game? Did you win?’ Geralt didn’t. But as they reach the mountain path and look back down on the lush green of Toussaint, he finds he really doesn’t mind.

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

Geralt leaves Kaer Morhen early that year, heading South under the misapprehension that the weather has broken. The path through the mountains is treacherous and Velen, when he reaches it, is as sodden and miserable as he has ever seen it. One night, the wind howls as he huddles under the bare branches of a long-dead tree, knees drawn up into his travelling cloak to preserve any semblance of warmth. His clothes are already soaked through and caked with mud, rain dripping off the hem of his hood where it dips over his face. His breath forms plumes in the freezing air. Roach stands by the tree, huffing her own breaths into the cold, her mane plastered to her neck by the unrelenting rain. He offers her a conciliatory grunt.

‘I know. We’ll head South.’ As he says it Geralt realises exactly where he’s heading. He’s not expecting to rest in Toussaint - the year is still new and he hasn’t earned the luxury - but there’ll be contracts in the area; work he can take up. The days he spent there last year have taken on a hazy, dreamlike quality and the thought of returning fills him with warmth, despite the freezing rain.

It takes him around a month to reach the feet of the Amell mountains. He’s skirted wide around Oxenfurt, knowing that if he stops then Jaskier will find him and the bard will slow him down. As he climbs the mountain pass, he’s glad of the quiet.

Geralt spends a month in Toussaint. It’s nothing like he imagined. The grapes aren’t ripe and the vintage from last year isn’t as sweet as he remembered. The working women fuck convincingly but they’re cold and impersonal afterwards. Geralt understands that it’s a contract like any other, and so one evening he pays one of them double to stay and hold him. He sends her away before an hour has passed, filled with hot shame and frustration. After she’s gone he opens the balcony windows and lies stiffly on the bed, willing himself not to cry. Pathetic, he thinks. What made you think you deserve that? The wind rustles the plants outside, but the jasmine isn’t flowering and all he can smell is the woman’s thick perfume on the pillow. He leaves the next day, and this time, he doesn’t look back at the view.

Much of the year passes as normal, and Geralt accepts contracts that take him further North. He’s drinking alone in a dingy tavern in Novigrad when he meets Jaskier again. The bard, as ever, is full of stories of his winter, and questions for Geralt, and he keeps flitting back and forth between the two as though he can’t decide which is more pressing.

‘So Geralt, tell me, where have you been? I must say I was a little disappointed when you didn’t pass by Oxenfurt on your way South, but I assume you left the mountains late this year? The snows didn’t ease for a long time, even in Velen! You should have seen oxenfurt in the snow, it really was beautiful! Little Eye found this sledge, and- No, I’m getting distracted.’ He really doesn’t even stop to breathe, thinks Geralt, smiling gently. ‘I’m sure you have lots of exciting tales just begging to be woven into ballads. Where have you been?’ The bard finally stops and takes a swig of his ale, watching Geralt over the rim of his mug.

‘Went down to Toussaint.’ Jaskier gulps down his mouthful of ale.

‘Oh! So early in the year; you’re finally learning how to treat yourself. Was it as lovely as ever?’

‘No.’ The disappointment of his wasted trip rises in Geralt again, and he swallows it down.

‘Oh.’ Jaskier sounds unsure now, and there’s a glint of something in his eyes. ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that. I thought you liked Toussaint.’

Geralt grits his teeth. He had thought so too.

‘Or the time we spent there, anyway.’ adds Jaskier, very softly. Geralt knows the bard is watching him for any reaction, but he can’t stand to look at his foolish, earnest face. Instead, he swallows hard and stands up from the table.

‘No.’ he grits out, and then he turns away before he can see Jaskier’s face crumple, and goes out to fetch Roach. He should be on the road. When he leaves the city gates that evening, he lets Roach choose the direction; it makes no difference to him.

She picks North anyway.

----------

I'm sorry for the no comfort ending!! Nothing felt quite right as an ending for this but Jask will find him again I promise!

This is part of a freeform series of short and unconnected drabbles based around Geralt denying that he has preferences, and Jaskier’s reactions. Part 1 is here, part 2 is here.

[nissakii]

Is Kageyama Tobio an ISTJ? - MBTI Analysis with functions

Spoiler warning for the entirety of the Haikyuu!! anime Parts of the manga after chapter 292 will not be discussed. Thread with caution dear reader!

This is the new and improved MBTI type analysis for the Haikyuu!! character Kageyama Tobio. You can read the old one here.

After a lot of research and also input from other readers and writers, we have started to analyse and type differently when it comes to the Myers Briggs Type Indicator. There are tools out there better equipped to type and examine the abundance of personalities out there which are called cognitive functions.

You might already be aware of it, but Makii has delved deep into those functions for her BNHA Compatibility : La Brava and Gentle/Sidekick and her Villain post. With extensive research, she has brought up beautiful points there, please feel free to check it out!

Now that we know about these functions, and Haikyuu!! To the Top is in our arsenal as well, I shall go over Kageyama’s personality type again and we will see if he still is our ISTJ setter!

Now to explain first before we dive into Kageyama’s personality, what exactly are those functions?

This time, instead of going with the Letters that you might already know (I/E, N/S, T/F and P/J) and shuffling those together, we are looking at four core functions that play out differently in each person.

Explanation is coming, stay with us!

These core four are the perceiving functions; Sensing (S) and Intuition (N), and the judging functions; Thinking (T) and Feeling (F).

The judging functions, as the name reiterates, shows us how someone judes things. How they make their decisions and what their values are. What does the person do with information taken from their surroundings? How do they analyse it?

The perceiving functions on the other hand are all about the perceptions of said information. When you look at the world, what do they see? What stays in their head? What catches their eye and how do they interact with it all?

It's easier to remember when you think of the concept as taking in information and then sorting it.

Now each person has a natural preference as to how they use their function. In this case we look at extraversion and introversion again, and see how their functions are used. If one f.e. prefers to use their Sensing trait internally we will add a small ‘i’ next to it so it becomes introverted Sensing Si.

Looks familiar?

These are the small abbreviations you might see around when looking at type discussions, and then they are arranged in the order of preference.

With the stack we always alternate between introverted and extroverted functions, and the order of the functions are always JPPJ or PJJP (Perceiving and Judging) which now forms our previously known 16 personality types!

The four functions get stacked and form the “Function stack” or “Cognitive stack” which can look a little like this:

Fi (Introverted Feeling) Ne (Extroverted Intuition)

Si (Introverted Sensing) Te (Extroverted Thinking)

This would’ve been my personal stack as an INFP, and an even better way to properly look at how the personality type works. The first function in the stack is the most prominent and the last is the weakest, which can already tell you a lot about how a person sees the world.

Now that we have finished this rather lengthy explanation, let’s dive into Kageyama Tobio’s cognitive functions shall we?

Dominant Function: Si

The dominant function is the first function, and the one that encompasses said person the most. It is their core being, what they truly are and what most people see for the first time.

The dominant function also establishes if the person behaves like an extrovert or an introvert.

“I am not introverted!” is what we hear from Kageyama the first time this topic is mentioned in the anime. But is that really true? He is often seen as reserved and collected from the outside. A forceful and possessing figure,

“The King”.

Extroversion and Introversion is easier explained if we take it like the workings of a battery. As Makii has mentioned in her post as well, if you spend a lot of time with people do you feel more energized or is your energy depleted afterwards?

I feel like it’s important to mention that Kageyama’s biggest passion is volleyball, which is amplified by him saying how he would despair only if he couldn’t play volleyball anymore.

As an athlete Kageyama can’t really play volleyball alone, so saying he’s extroverted just because he’s always adamant on playing doesn’t really prove if he’s an extrovert.

In this case, what is the first thing we see with Kageyama? What would be the most dominant function for him?

If we typed him right the last time, and he actually is an ISTJ, that would be the Sensing function.

Sensing is the perceiving function that is all about organisation and strong discipline. People with dominant Sensing have the innate ability to look at what they do and maximize everything to the fullest potential. As we’ve established that kageyama definitely behaves like an introvert even though he might have some outbursts, that makes his first function ‘introverted Sensing’ or Si.

Kageyama still has his priorities laid out in front of him, but he is also very particular on how things are supposed to be done. He accumulates information and experiences from his past and uses those to evaluate current facts.

That is why Si-Te characters are often shown to be adamant on their strategies or typical 'textbook' learners. They do things in a mundane and familiar way rather than try out new things.

He’s known as the genius who is able to make incredible sets with shocking precision, and he has the highest expectations on himself and others. His Si is what makes him think deeply of only the things he is interested in, and makes sure to use practical and methodical ways of action. All of this is internalized in Kageyama’s brain, he doesn’t talk much about it and sometimes even has no concept of it himself, but his work ethic and controlling nature shows us that this function fits him very well.

Auxiliary Function: Te

The Auxiliary function is the second most preferred and used function, especially there to support the first dominant function. As the first function in introverts is internal, the second is external and therefore extroverted.

It is the first and most immediate thing that will be noticed by others when they interact with Kageyama.

His Si might be internal and therefore established when he is focused or when he lets other people see it, his Auxiliary as an ISTJ would be the Thinking function.

Extroverted Thinking, or also Te would show his love for routine and efficiency and also the reason why Kageyama often works to his limits and trains properly everyday to attain his goals. It also fuels his competitiveness, which is the first thing Hinata sensed about him when they met.

It is all about winning and winning until he beats Oikawa and becomes the best of the best.

Him being a hothead would explain that his Thinking trait is extroverted, when it comes to his training regimen for example Kageyama is very strict. He understands the importance of pushing his limits and working through every obstacle until it is solved.

His first two functions Si-Te show the adamant way of carefully planning the way he needs to pursue their goals.

Like mentioned before with the first quote of Kageyama wanting to win all his games in the future, those are not just empty words. He is shown to have a training routine that he follows diligently and he always nags Hinata to not just hit spikes but also work on his weak receives.

This also explains the white board in Kageyama’s room that shows a very complex workout schedule.

Kageyama’s goal is to stay on the court the longest and become the absolute best, and he is aware that all of that doesn’t come from nothing. Logic, strategy and internalizing and sticking with his own principles is a strong indicator for his Si-Te stack.

We often see that Kageyama still has some difficulties using his Auxiliary Te, as he tends to overindulge in this function. Especially when Kageyama is stressed or overwhelmed by a situation, we can see that more clearly.

He then tends to become very stiff and his judgment turns very black and white, which is seen for example when he already decided for himself what the role of the setter entails. Instead of looking at it from the perspective of Hinata as well, which was a piece of advice Oikawa had to give him before he could understand that more fully.

These traits make him very inflexible which turns to him not being able to change plans and ideas, we see this when he was reluctant to change the quick attack to something that could've been improved.

His recent interactions in season four are also an indicator of his stiff and humorless attitude that conforms his Auxiliary. It's the reason why Atsumu was able to get into his head space while calling him a "goody two shoes", which Kageyama couldn't fully understand until he broke apart.

Tertiary Function: Fi

The Tertiary function is now one of the weaker and strained functions that a person exhibits. As the first two functions of the stack show us the accumulated personality of someone, we must know that balance is very important.

The third and supporting function makes sure that there is a healthy balance in the cognitive stack and it also acts as a slow break to the first two.

Kageyama’s third function should be an internalized one, as we’ve established in the beginning that the functions alternate from being extroverted and introverted. For his personal stack, the next function is his introverted Feeling or Fi for short.

To his very analytical and strategic behaviour, to conform to a good balance the setter needs to learn how to factor his own and other people’s emotions into the mix.

Fi exhibits itself as a sort of sensitivity to other people’s feelings. In the first season of Haikyuu!! We see Kageyama slowly and politely trying to sense the people around him in a very clumsy manner. He needs to know how he can take the perspectives of other people and apply them to his own course of action.

“Azumane-san, how was that toss just now?”

Pairing well with his observant nature, he accumulates actual facts to accommodate his peers. He might have a problem getting his emotions in check, but when it comes to volleyball his straightforward approach is what helps him determine how to f.e. set to someone new. In this moment his Fi becomes a gentle reminder that he needs to dial it down sometimes and consider how others feel.

Even if he does register other people’s emotions he uses them in a logical context instead of an emotional one, while keeping facts and logical aspects like skill and technique as a first priority.

And that is why his Feeling trait is less prominent, but still an important asset to his whole stack. If he overindulges in his Auxiliary and uses his inferior Feeling trait to compensate for that overly stiff and possessive nature, he might fall into what we call on this instance a Fi loop.

Signs for such a Fi loop would be the reluctance to see that problems are getting worse by using a black and white approach or knowing that the current course of actions could be improved but not changing it.

We can see this when Kageyama knew exactly that the first quick attack was stopped by other good players and could be improved, but did not back away from his original play. Even though Hinata told him to his face that it soon wouldn't work anymore.

He then interprets his own feelings as immediate facts and factors them into his decision making as "facts" which only fuels his Auxiliary Te, and then the loop continues.

Kageyama sees himself as the best and strives to overcome everyone who is in the way, so in his case he interprets his own feelings of "I am good/better" into actually being factual. His own feelings then cooperate to back up his own strategies.

Inferior Function: Ne

The infamous last function is also called the inferior function, and as the name states the most weak.

It is a person's emergency break or great strength and if not developed fully, can be their achilles heel.

It may be the weakest function of one's stack, but it has a huge impact for when it actually comes out. For the analytical type that Kageyama is, his Feeling and Intuition are bound to be the latter functions in his stack. That doesn't mean that he is emotionless or doesn’t like to try out new things true to his Intuition, it just means that he personally would rather value things by rationality and logic than emotion and theory.

Still, his Extroverted Intuition or his Ne is what wants new and exciting ideas to develop in his thought process. As it is the inferior function, it is only usable in small amounts of time and often associated less with Kageyama’s true character.

A good example for a Ne and Si conflict would be the season two improved quick attack.

As a Si-Dom he is less imaginative and likes to use things that always work for him. If he finds a safe route, he will cling to that stability and continue to pursue it, disregarding everything else.

When Kageyama started on the “freak attack” with Hinata he found said stability. Seeing the immediate boost it gave the team and the satisfaction that Hinata had in the beginning, it was especially hard for him later when the middle blocker demanded more.

Why change something if it is already perfect?

To have a direct comparison, Oikawa with introverted Intuition (Ni) as his Auxiliary function immediately saw room for improvement behind the success rate and a chance to make something “perfect” even better, while Kageyama was clutching on the current path that was successful.

Oikawa took his time to give every member in Karasuno advice and tips on how to improve, he is often seen observing in the background and pushing everyone he works with to their fullest potential. That is his internalized dialogue that plays with new ideas and concepts as he takes in his world.

When it came to the freak quick attack, it was shown that Kenma with extroverted Intuition (Ne) as his Auxiliary saw the weakness in it as well, pushing Hinata to want to improve it.

Kageyama's weakness is that he didn’t see the bigger picture, but only the short term solution that was most effective.

Another reason why the inferior function is so important, is because under high amounts of stress any personality can fall into an episode called ‘the grip’, in Kageyama's case that would be the infamous Ne-grip.

If caught in a spiral of routine that is a lot higher and alarming than most other days, a Si-Te with Ne grip can get irrationally scared of the future and compare it to bad things that happened in the past. Freezing up and getting the feeling that something may have already gone wrong 'just like last time'.

A good example for a really strong Ne-grip for Kageyama would be his middle school experience with his team when they abandoned him finally after he taunted them for their efforts and this memory makes him stop in his tracks and over think his current state.

His fear of situations taking a wrong turn and reliving past mistakes again makes Kageyama show signs of Ne-grip.

It's Hinata or the general new support system of Karasuno and even Oikawa who have to pull him out of his grip, when he starts to get overwhelmed by the sheer possibility of something going wrong just like last time.

Conclusion:

After this new analysis and with the help of other researchers and the personality database, it is now well established that I truly believe Kageyama is an ISTJ.

The reserved and logically inclined Si-Te setter who can still be a bit emotional with his Fi might feel quite ambiguous, still I think that his responses to sudden change and inefficiency due to his inferior Ne already determine a lot about him and his personality.

It truly was a pleasure to look at this whole analysis again and see if Kageyama was truly typed correctly, and I encourage every single one of you to look into your own cognitive stack to find out more about yourself!

Now what do you guys think? Agree or disagree with me? I would love to know if you have typed with or without functions in the past and what your experience with it is!

Until then, to the next tea time!

Ah~ this tea tastes the same and yet… Quite different now~

-Nissa

[thinkinem]

seeing discussion of lgbtq+ representation in one chicago on the dash so I’m taking this as my opportunity to float my overindulgent head canon* that Matt Casey is one superbly repressed queer.

*this quickly got out of hand and is likely well into au territory, but if I have to think about-- it as incoherent as it is--then you do too!

The reason he botched his moment with Sylvie so hard was that when things slowed down and Sylvie asked her Gabby question, Matt got majorly overwhelmed by the reality that he was about to jump into another relationship with a woman that already has all these ideas about who he is as a man and as a boyfriend. 

Usually he can ignore the dull feeling of disconnect that always comes when he’s first intimate with a woman. But dammit, he really thought Sylvie could be The One. He really thought this time those feelings of affection and aesthetic appreciation that he could conjure when he pressed himself to meant something. He was so sure that he was going to feel that spark people write songs about with Sylvie. That it was going to redeem him for all the ways he couldn’t be enough for Gabby, for all the times he looked Hallie in the face and wasn’t truthful.

But that spark, swoop, tingle, whatever it’s supposed to be, it isn’t there. Sure, he’s got the motions down, a smooth execution of the classic moves, and he likes feeling strong and needed and scooping Sylvie up without hesitation does that for him. But it’s not the aha moment he was expecting. The moments they’d shared over the past two years, the little glimpses of a future with this woman in his arms turn stale just like they always do when he goes to seal the deal. 

When Sylvie pulls back, Matt’s heart stops. He’s sure this is it, that if anyone is going to finally see through him it’s going to be Sylvie Brett. And in a lot of ways he’s relieved. Sylvie is a safe space, a trusted confidante, he knows she won’t mock or laugh. But also the idea of putting words to the way he feels scares the life out of him, to say it out loud would make his Otherness too real. (Even when he and Kelly were in the middle of whatever it was they had, Matt could never fully admit to it out loud, not even just as a whisper in the dark to the man that had already seen all of him and stayed close anyway). 

But Sylvie doesn’t see through him. Or she thinks she does, but really she couldn’t be farther from the truth. So when she asks if he’d go with Gabby, it feels easiest to say he doesn’t know. 

But his “I don’t know” was less about going with Gabby as an individual, and more about the idea of committing himself to another/any woman again. The divorce gutted him. It forced up a lot of thoughts and feelings that he was relying on that relationship to keep a lid on. But also, it felt a lot like checking off a task from a to do list: he did his due diligence as a man to have a wife and attempt a classic version of a family just like he was always expected to do (and in a lot of ways it felt like a big fuck you to his father and every one of his sneering insults).

The thing is, Matt knows in his bones that he wants someone like Sylvie Brett by his side for the rest of his life; she’s amazing, loyal, funny, understanding, everything he’d want in a partner. But in that moment Matt decides he cannot go down this road again. Sylvie is all those wonderful things and more, and she deserves a guy who wants all of her, not just the idea of her. 

For a moment he thinks it’s going to work out. He gets out the cliched “it’s complicated” and is almost ready to do it, ready to own who he is right there. But the words get a little stuck and then Sylvie is filling in the blanks with all the wrong colors (and, Jesus, isn’t that familiar). Then the next thing he knows, he’s breaking Sylvie Brett’s heart exactly the way he vowed to never do. The moment is quick and messy and feels terrifyingly unsalvageable, but it’s happening, then it happened, and there’s nothing he can do about it. (He sleeps with Sydney because that’s what he does when a relationship ends: he sleeps with a stranger, always female, and does everything opposite what he did in the relationship, just to double test the theory that it really is something in him and not just around him. Sydney: sexy and funny and charming; The Theory: confirmed)

And suddenly Matt is exhausted. He’s got decades of built up secret and accumulated grief on his shoulders and he can’t move with it all weighing him down. So he just sort of stops fighting it. He puts up the token efforts with Sylvie, tells her he doesn’t regret it, that she’s still very important to him, then lets her walk away when she informs him that it can never happen again, that he is a man still in love with his ex wife. On net, she’s actually kinda half right, and he lets himself have a quiet, sardonic chuckle at that.

Matt’s got the job, his rank, his men, the city. They’re more than enough to live for, to love, to give his all. They’ve got expectations of him too, and they’re ones he can meet with an ease that doesn’t exist anywhere else in his life.

Five weeks after Matt decides he’s really only meant to be Captain Casey, he wakes up on Christie’s couch with the mother of all hangovers. He gets a solid five minutes of laying awake, nauseous and self-loathing before his older sister comes in with a steaming cup of coffee and smile more gentle than he’s ever seen her wear. She digs her hand into his shoulder and tells him about coming home from her freshman year of college for Thanksgiving. 

She tells him about letting herself be dragged back to the high school stadium by friends she hadn’t quite lost touch with yet for the annual cross-town rival Turkey Bowl football game. She tells him about not watching a single moment of the game, about missing the moment when Star Quarterback John Murphy’s collar bone snapped. She tells him about becoming the most committed high school football fan in the five minutes after the ATs got John Murphy off the field, and the coach decided that what the hell, they’d finish the game anyway, that scrawny freshman Matt Casey would finally get some playing time after a whole season of sitting the bench. She tells him about flying off her seat, about going hoarse the next day from telling everyone in the stadium “that was my brother, Matt Casey, the kid who made the final point, that’s my brother.”

Matt, sitting up now, gives Christie a soft smile and mumbles that it was fluke really, that he didn’t see a second of playing time again until his junior year, that he was always more of a hockey guy. Christie reaches across him again digging her nails into his shoulders, says with the mean kind of love only older sisters are capable of, “Matthew Michael, you are not a fluke.”

A week after Matt pulls himself off Christie’s couch Sylvie tells him she is done needing space, that she misses her friend. He’s grateful for that and does his best to not be annoyed when she starts looking surprised that he isn’t ‘fighting’ for her or doing whatever charming manly bullshit he would’ve done even just a few months ago. But Matt is done fighting for things he doesn’t really want, is done fighting himself at every turn and is ready to start fighting for himself. He isn’t a fluke and one of these days he’s going to prove it. 

In fact, he proves it when he goes to dinner at Stella and Kelly’s new place on a warm fall night just under a year since he was standing in the hallway of Sylvie’s apartment exhausted of himself. It’s him, Stella and Kelly of course, Sylvie but not her boyfriend, and Sam Kidd, Stella’s older brother who just moved to Chicago and is “desperate enough for friends that I’m hanging around my baby sister, I know it’s--ow, Steve, don’t hit me!”

Sam Kidd is funny and charming and tells terrific stories about a precocious preteen Stella. And after dinner when he and Matt end up alone in the kitchen having volunteered for clean up duty, Sam puts a firm hand on Matt’s shoulder and says he appreciates how Matt has looked out for his baby sister these past years, that he was skeptical of the stories Stella told him about her Captain right up until he shook Matt’s hand earlier that night. Sam readily agrees when Matt insists that Stella has never needed any looking after but his hand lingers in an appreciative squeeze on his shoulder anyway. 

They walk down the block toward their cars together after seeing Sylvie safely to her Uber. When they get to Sam’s sleek black sports car (he’s in marketing and apparently very good at it), Matt is less surprised than he thought he would be when Sam crowds him against the passenger side door and sweetly asks “would it be alright if I kissed you?” (Matt says yes, to the kiss and a date, as well as a second date and third one too).

They don’t make a big announcement or anything, but they also don’t hide it. When Stella and Kelly get married in the Spring, Sam pulls Matt out onto the dance floor and holds him close right in front of everyone. For the first time in his life, Matt doesn’t mind the attention a single bit because he’s finally where he fits.

When Matt is all danced out, and Sam is cutting in to dance with his sister, Matt finds himself in the little anteroom straightening out gift bags and taking a moment to feel quietly pleased with himself. Sylvie comes in then, eyes shining to compliment the new ring on her left hand. For a moment Matt worries she’s upset with him, but then her face breaks into a soft grin and he barely catches her “oh, Matt” before he’s catching her. When they pull away from each other Matt gives her a grin of his own, one that he hopes says I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry it all got so messy but I can’t be sorry for who I am. Sylvie must understand him because she’s still grinning as she says, “you’re happy.” It’s not a question, but Matt nods anyway because finally, after years and years, it’s fully and all the way true. He’s happy.

[appleb0mb]

Cardenalia: Lyric Analysis!

To all those theorists who want confirmation, here you go! Note that this is unedited. Long post below!

Verse One:

Silk laced with poison – ‘poison’ is in reference to Pomefiore’s chapter and the Evil Queen, when she poisoned Snow White.

The apple falling from the tree – The apple in this case is a second reference to Pomefiore, or more specifically Epel. 1Since apples only fall when they’re either fully grown or decayed, this is in reference to Epel leaving his hometown, entering a new environment – specifically Pomefiore.

It can also imply how 2Vil is raising Epel to be of a higher standard of beauty.

The wheel of fortune – 1In eastern cultures, there is a spiritual rebirth known as ‘reincarnation’ – or in this case, the cycle (also reference to the term ‘Lottery of Life’).

The Wheel of Fortune is based on people being separated and sorted into groups of status or wealth as they are born. Some humans believe that this is permanent till the day you die or be ‘reborn’ once again.

Has not been kind to me – (The following is more focused on the term ‘Lottery of Life’).

1Jamil believes that he has been deemed ‘unlucky’ and feels that he has lost the wheel of life from the moment he was born. As a result, this affects parts of his life such as his wealth, his family, his job, his wishes and desires, as well as his environment.

All these hands are crawling on me, crawling on me – The following is mainly based on Canon Jamil.

1This is in reference to when the members of Scarabia are constantly bombarding him with tasks and jobs. Jamil is tired of the huge, overwhelming responsibility carried on his shoulders as Vice Dorm leader. He internally feels mentally drained and in distress about it.

2This can include TWSTxDAL Jamil as well, since his power is reliant on Kalim’s power – which involves helping the people and environment around him. Without Jamil, Kalim’s power will be imbalanced and spiral out of control (he may even overblot because of that).

3Thanks to that, he feels like he is pressured and forced to comply with Kalim’s desires – without gaining anything satisfying or desirable from Kalim in the process.

4This can also be applied to Canon Jamil as well!

Time seems slow when I am struggling, I am struggling – 1Jamil feels like his pain of being in an everlasting bond with Kalim is filled with never-ending suffering. Additionally, he feels like his happiness and joy are short and brief – while his suffering lasts much longer and slower.

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil, in terms of him serving Kalim.

Desperate, I try to reach out to your hand – 1Jamil is reaching out constantly, begging for a way out of this suffering of feeling below or inferior to Kalim. In this line, he is hanging on to the last remains of hope that Kalim will realize of the eternal bond they are in.  

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil, hoping that Kalim is aware of the dark side of him being a slave to Kalim.

What is with that smile? – This is in reference to Kalim’s bright and cherry innocence. As a result, when Kalim smiles to Jamil – Jamil is deeply hurt, frustrated and irritated - comprehending that Kalim still is naïve and unaware of the ongoing situation between the two of them.

2This can also be in reference to Canon Jamil.

Chorus:

Keep on singing, Cardenalia – 1Jamil is mocking Kalim and his actions, pretending to be supportive of Kalim and continue to be on his side. Instead, this implies Jamil manipulating and controlling Kalim to achieve his goal of freedom.

This is also referencing of Kalim’s innocence – of Kalim himself being stuck in his own ‘bubble’.

2This is in reference to Canon Jamil as well.

Keep on dancing, dancing backwards – 1In a way, Jamil is telling him to continue to act stupid/dumb of the bond they share. This in relation to Jamil being manipulative and mocking Kalim.

2Can also be in reference to Canon Jamil.

In my womb – 1In a mother’s womb – the baby I given the nutrients needed to grow as well as protection; while risking the mother’s life as a result. This can be applied to Jamil, but instead without nurturing and emotionally caring for Kalim as an individual.

2Additionally, this can be an insult to Kalim being naïve and useless – since a baby can only grow and cannot carry responsibilities or help themselves.

3Thirdly, this is in reference to Kalim being stuck in Jamil’s ‘trap’ or ‘bubble’, where he controls or monitors Kalim’s actions like a doll. In other words, Kalim is the puppet while Jamil is the puppeteer/mastermind.

4This can be taken as reference to Canon Jamil as well.

(I hate you) – This is towards Kalim, and in secret. That is why the brackets are applied.

Verse Two:

Same room, same time – 1This is based on when Yuu (You), Grim and Octavinelle were present with Scarabia (Canon Jamil).

2This can also be based on the TWSTxDAL story, when Yuu, Grim (somehow…?) and Octavinelle met Jamil and Kalim for the first time. In this case, the ‘room’ would be more so a ‘hideout’.

My eyes are dyed with jealousy – This is rather vague (since this can be interpreted in many ways). I will try to consider all the possibilities.

1Jamil is jealous of Azul – The fact that Azul is able to free and able to express his desires or ulterior motives without hesitation or restraint.

2Jamil is jealous of Kalim – This can be carried canonically or not.

Canon Version: Kalim allows Octavinelle into the Scarabia dorm, even though Jamil is against it. He despises how Kalim can be so carefree without carefully thinking of his actions – since Octavinelle is known for being mischievous and duplicitous.

TWSTxDAL version: The same is applied to here, but Jamil is unfamiliar with Octavinelle and Yuu (or is he?) since he meets you five in person as a group.

Kalim is a lot more open to visitors (since he barely receives none), and is annoyed and envious of how Kalim is ignorant of the dangers and risks of his new and unacquainted guests.

3Jamil is jealous of Kalim (2) – In general, Jamil is jealous of Kalim of winning the ‘Lottery of Life’ so easily without hard-work or dedication. He is given everything on a golden platter, without Kalim questioning the circumstances or the origin of the reward.

This can be applied to TWSTxDAL Jamil, except Kalim can use his powers by barely suffering in the process compared to Jamil. Though, it usually depends on who uses their power more (which is usually Kalim).

“Please stop” you ask me – ‘You’ can be the following:

1Yuu/You – Yuu is usually in charge of helping dorms and their Overblots. Indirectly, you are telling Jamil to stop accomplishing any sinister plans ahead of time.

2Kalim – This is based on when Kalim is under the Unique Magic ‘Snake Whisper’. Even though he doesn’t recognize he’s under hypnosis, I believe he would’ve reacted this way instead.

3Himself – Jamil has a sense of fear and worry that he’ll be found out, isolated, or no longer considered to be a friend or kind person to Kalim. This can be applied canonically to his dorm members as well.

Note that the context of ‘Himself’ can only be implemented as a one-liner, not with the line ‘To cease the puppetry’.

To cease the puppetry – This can apply to the following:

1Yuu/You – Yuu is telling him indirectly to stop controlling Kalim.

2Kalim – Kalim is telling Jamil to stop controlling him. Though, he is not saying ‘stop’ not for himself but for Jamil and the other members of his dorm. He doesn’t want Jamil to be hurt or affected in the process, even though Kalim himself is being hurt in the process.

In short terms, Kalim is being selfless.

This can be applied to TWSTxDAL, but he would give up his life for Jamil if it meant saving him (even though this is technically not possible). In this case, he is telling him to stop so he can keep the friendship of Yuu, Grim and the other spirits.

Other Spirits – Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle.

3Himself & Other – Note that this is an abstract interpretation canonically. This may be applied in the TWSTxDAL AU.

However, instead of Jamil this can be applied to his Overblot toying with him or fate, destiny, or a 3rd party playing with him like checkers. 4He feels that he is being used in a bigger plan for an unknown motive.

Now my cup is running over, running over – 1The cup is a representation of his luck and success. 2This is a sign of greed, dictatorship and overindulgence. 3In a way, this can be interpreted as him ‘winning’ the ‘Lottery of Life’/gaining control over the situation at hand. This can be interpreted as canonically or not.

You beg with – This can applied to Yuu/You, or Kalim.

Unceasing mercy, unceasing mercy – In reference to him going along with his plans ruthlessly.

Desperate, you try and cling unto my arms saying, - 1In a way, this is reference to the verse, “Desperate, I try to reach out to your hand”. This is ironic since Jamil was crying for help, but now he is the one being cried to.

‘You’ can only be applied to Kalim.

“End my suffering” – 1This is Kalim begging for Jamil to stop. 2However, the term ‘suffering’ is in reference to hurting the friendship of Yuu, Grim and the other Spirits. But canonically, he wants him to stop wounding the friendship of everyone (Yuu, Grim and Octavinelle) and the Scarabia dorm members.

Bridge:

The following lines are only in relation to Jamil himself speaking to everyone, but more specifically to Kalim.

| - to differentiate that the verses are separated lyrically.

Hate me – 1He wants Kalim to stop caring for him, since he is hurt thanks to Kalim’s kindness. If Kalim did not care for him so much, he wouldn’t have been betrayed him in the first place.

Kill me – 1Canonically, he knows that if he betrays his master/Kalim, he might be put to death. But he doesn’t care of the consequences – even if his freedom will be death.

Despise me – The same applies to the verse “Hate me”.

You shatter me – 1This is in reference to Kalim breaking his spirit, his hopes and desires. Moreso, Kalim ‘broke’ his ability to be who he wants to be as an individual.

Breaking | Slowly – 1This is when Kalim is ‘breaking’ his patience, his individuality/character, and desires. This can also be in terms of friendship as well.

How could you do this to me? – Jamil is questioning Kalim in this case.

The following lines are only in relation to Kalim responding to Jamil.

Time won’t | Heal all the wounds | I made in you – 1Kalim knows that these ‘wounds’ in these friendships can’t heal the mistakes he made in Jamil.

But let us | Live, learn, grow, and love – 1Kalim still wants them to understand each other’s feelings and restore his friendship, including everyone as well. He wants Jamil to continue living (for himself) and loving each other as best friends.

Everyone (Canonically) – Yuu, Grim, Octavinelle, and the Scarabia dorm members.

Everyone (TWSTxDAL) – Yuu, Grim, and Heartslaybul – Octavinelle.

Chorus:

Let us dance, Cardenalia | Let us dance, dance together – 1This is Jamil speaking to Kalim that he wants to dance with him. 2This is a sign of Jamil letting go of his anger and frustration, and turning his joy and happiness into dancing.

To the ends of hope, love, and despair – 1Jamil is stating that in good times and bad times, he will be there for Kalim in return; 2thanks to the promise that Kalim made (“Time won’t heal the wounds I made in you, but let us live, learn, grow, and love”).

Let us fall, Cardenalia | Let us fall, fall together – 1The fall is in reference of them descending either in reputation or ‘falling’ to their deaths.

2In the TWSTxDAL AU, Jamil knows that if one of them dies, the other will die as well.

Note that the word ‘reputation’ in the following paragraph only applies only to Canon Jamil.

Even if | Our hatred is our despair – 1Even if he hates him, he knows that he still cares for Kalim. 2Therefore Jamil states that even in bad times, he will be there in death. No emotion will separate them from the bond that they share.

[ibijau]

30 day otp - day eighteen: Rain

18. R - Rain. Are the otp+ caught up in the bad weather, cozy inside, or are they somewhere like on a space ship or in the middle of the desert yearning for a good storm?

warning for mild alcohol abuse and jealousy 

set after lxc and nhs became a couple, but before nhs discovers his brother’s death wasn’t an accident

It’s stupid to be walking in the rain like that, and it’s needlessly dramatic, and Nie Huaisang doesn’t care because he is, maybe, quite possibly, a little bit drunk. There was too much wine available at this stupid Conference. There’s always too much wine, especially when they’re held in Carp Tower, but it’s the first time Nie Mingjue isn’t there to stop him from overindulging when he’s bored.

And heavens help him, but he has been bored all day. It’s the first time he has to actually pay close attention to what’s been discussed, and his mind spent the entire revolting against the inane conversations around him. Disputes about territories and taxes and petty personal disputes treated as if they’re great scandals. Nie Huaisang doesn’t know how he survived this until the banquet where finally wine was served. He’s tempted to sneak in some wine tomorrow, so he can get drunk in the morning and not have to hear all this drivel. The only thing that can stop him from doing that is if Lan Xichen asks him not to, but… Lan Xichen has better things to do than to pay attention to Nie Huaisang.

The gnawing feeling in Nie Huaisang’s chest is nothing new, but it has been growing stronger since Lan Xichen kissed him for the first time.

He has always envied the close relationship between Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, the affection and respect these three shared (tainted by distrust and resentment, yes, but still Nie Huaisang believes his brother would never have been so furious if he hadn’t still liked Jin Guangyao). He still envies it, but there’s only two of them now, and sometimes Nie Huaisang sees Lan Xichen smile at Jin Guangyao or touch him with easy casualness, and he wonders…

Shivering because of the rain (or perhaps not just the rain, but he won’t admit to anything else) Nie Huaisang gives in and finds shelter under a tree. It’s cold, and it’s lonely, and he regrets not having some more wine with him to make him forget the way Lan Xichen’s hand was on Jin Guangyao’s shoulder when he ran away, the soft smile his lover (his lover) directed at his sworn brother as they chatted.

Lan Xichen who has barely spared a single glance for him since the conference started.

(Nie Huaisang knows, logically, that Lan Xichen cannot show him too much preference, not in such a public space, not when they are supposed to be friends and nothing else.)

(He’s drunk though, and this feels like rejection, especially when Lan Xichen has no problem showing a lot of preference for Jin Guangyao)

Around Nie Huaisang, the night gets darker. The rain gets worse. It occurs to him that he can’t see shit, doesn’t know where he is in those too big gardens, and probably won’t be able to find his way back.

It wouldn’t be his first time spending the night outside, cold, wet and drunk. It happened twice when he was studying in Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian’s antics got him and Jiang Cheng stuck outside past curfew. Back then, it had been a fun experience. Nie Huaisang doesn’t expect this to be, but it’s his own fault for being stupid, so he’ll deal with it.

He’s just starting to look for a less wet patch of grass to sit down and fall asleep on when he stops something approaching through the rain. A pale silhouette, carrying what appears to be a large umbrella. Nie Huaisang hesitates, but eventually shouts to get that person’s attention. Embarrassment is better than sleeping in the mud.

A statement he starts to reconsider once the person gets closer and he recognises the white robes of Gusu Lan. Of course that’d be just his luck to be found by his lover when he is in such a pitiful state.

Lan Xichen lowers the umbrella as soon as he’s under the shelter of the tree, and pulls Nie Huaisang into a tight, warm hug.

“I was so worried! A-Sang, why did you disappear like that?”

Nie Huaisang, clinging to his lover’s robe like a child to his mother, knows that he should be happy that Lan Xichen came looking for him. If he were a little less drunk, if the last few months had been a little less harrowing, he would be happy.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” he grumbles instead. “You and A-Yao were having such fun.”

He can feel the slight jolt in Lan Xichen’s frame at his bitter tone. He can also feel a hand carding through his wet hair, as if to comfort him.

“Of course I noticed you were gone,” Lan Xichen gently tells him. “You’ve looked like you were in such a bad mood all day… why didn’t you join us to chat?”

“Why would I bother? When the two of you are together, I might as well not be there.”

The hand in his hair stills. Nie Huaisang feels Lan Xichen move and guesses the other man must be trying to catch his eyes, but he resolutely looks down.

“I’m sorry if we’ve given you that impression,” Lan Xichen says, slow and careful, as if Nie Huaisang were some sect leader he’s trying to pacify. Which he is, really, and he hates that. “A-Sang, we really do enjoy talking with you. I value your opinion, I hope you know that.”

Nie Huaisang huffs. “What’s there to value? Listen, it’s fine. Talk to Jin Guangyao, I don’t care. I’d rather talk to him than to me, too, if I had the choice.”

For a moment, the only sound is the rain around them, still heavy and loud, isolating them from the world. Nie Huaisang feels warm fingers leave his hair to push against his chin and force him to look up. While he tries to resist, Lan Xichen leaves him no choice. Still he keeps his eyes down, refusing to see whatever anger or pity is sure to be on his lover’s face.

“A-Sang, look at me.”

Nie Huaisang shakes his head.

“A-Sang. Please. Look at me.”

He shakes his head again, but there’s something in Lan Xichen’s voice that he can’t resist and he does look up after all.

It’s pity, not anger, that he sees on the other man’s face.

He’s not sure that’s the option he prefers.

“A-Sang, I really do enjoy your conversation, your company,” Lan Xichen insists. “I love you.”

“Only because he won’t let you love him,” Nie Huaisang retorts, quickly looking down again.

The fingers on his chin tighten for a second before letting go, and suddenly Lan Xichen isn’t touching him at all. Nie Huaisang shivers, but he can’t blame the rain alone for how cold he suddenly feels. No matter what happens after this, he’s never drinking again. Or at least, not around other people. If Lan Xichen ends whatever exists between them out of anger at being discovered, there is no force in the world that can stop Nie Huaisang from locking up in his office once he’s back in Qinghe and drinking every single drop of alcohol that can be found in the Unclean Realm.

“That is not true,” Lan Xichen whispers at last, the words almost drowned out by the rain around them. He sounds hurt, but Nie Huaisang still refuses to look up. “I have never once in my life had such thoughts for A-Yao. He is like a brother to me, he has always been. You might as well accuse me of having untoward thoughts for Wangji.”

“You don’t touch Wangji like you touch A-Yao,” Nie Huaisang hisses furiously.

“Of course not. Wangji hates being touched by anyone, while A-Yao welcomes it,” Lan Xichen points out, the slightest hint of irritation piercing through.

“I’d welcome it too, yet you’ve never done it. Even before… before this started, you’ve never…”

Lan Xichen quickly wraps his arms around Nie Huaisang’s body and pulls him close against his chest, holding him tight.

“I think I’ve touched you plenty in recent times,” Lan Xichen claims in a strangled voice. “Not in public but… with you, I’m never sure how much I could get away with, who will guess what we have if I am too familiar. I don’t have to worry about that with A-Yao because I’m not hiding anything when I’m talking with him. With you… I don’t want people to guess. I don’t want people to know and tell us we need to stop.”

If Nie Huaisang’s face is wet, it’s no longer just because of the rain (but he can still blame the wine for making him emotional, and he will if questioned).

Damn Lan Xichen for being so good, for never getting angry, for being kind even when Nie Huaisang is doing everything to make him realise that he has settled for someone who will never be good enough for him.

“I love you,” Lan Xichen says again. “Please don’t doubt that.”

“I love you too,” Nie Huaisang replies, half convinced that he’ll always doubt the other man really cares as much as he does, no matter how many years they get together.

A little less distressed now, Nie Huaisang rises on his toes to claim a quick kiss, just a peck at his lover’s lips to remind himself that no matter who Lan Xichen really wants, for now he’s the one who gets to do that, him and no one else.

When he pulls back, Lan Xichen wrinkles his nose.

“How much did you drink?” he asks, not quickly scolding but ready to get there if necessary.

“A little too much,” Nie Huaisang admits. “I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Not because he doesn’t think it’s true. Given the choice between him and Jin Guangyao, it’s obvious who anyone would prefer… but he’s lucky that Jin Guangyao is married, that he’s never shown any interest in men, that his life history would make him unlikely to cheat anyway. Nie Huaisang can only ever come second best, but a lifetime in his brother’s shadow has taught him to live with that.

Still, it was a cruel thing to say to Lan Xichen, who must suffer from this one-sided business. And the last thing Nie Huaisang wants, ever, is to be cruel to the man he loves.

“All is forgiven,” Lan Xichen replies, too kind as always. “Let’s go back now, and get you something dry to put on. You are so unreasonable, running into the rain like that without even an umbrella.”

Nie Huaisang nods, and presses himself against his lover’s side so they can share Lan Xichen’s umbrella. It doesn’t fully protect them, not when the rain is still so intense, but Nie Huaisang isn’t going to miss a chance to be touching his lover.

[cagestark]

-Defender//3-

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Longest chapter by far...enjoy. ;) let me know what you think.

warnings: rape is mention in a strictly theoretical sense, but non-consensual groping is referenced.

read here on AO3.

-

‘Whatever kids do’ (I’m twenty fucking years old, Peter thinks to himself) turns out to be just sitting in his room, climbing the walls. Literally. Unfortunately, there aren’t any spiders making nests in the corners of the room, but at least he tried to find kin.

He takes the plastic bag out of his backpack, the one that hold his trackphone and charger. Now with an increased paycheck, he’ll be able to afford a real phone, one that he doesn’t have to risk turning on just once or twice a day to preserve the battery. There aren’t any messages, but Peter hadn’t really expected any different. He turns it off and tucks it back into the waterproof bag.

After a time, Peter begins to feel like maybe he’s hiding in his room. He’s hungry—and he lives here now, right, so why shouldn’t he just go out into the kitchen and make himself a sandwich? But every time he reaches for the doorknob, he chickens out. What if Mr. Stark is out there? Peter’s dressed in the only casual clothes he owns, a pair of warm sweatpants and a long-sleeve flannel shirt. Hardly appropriate attire to be seen in by a billionaire. By Tony Stark.

But the hunger wins out sometime around eight in the evening. So he carefully nudges the door to his room open and slips out.

He swallows a gasp, heart hammering when he spots Tony sitting on the leather couch with his socked feet up on the coffee table. Schematics are scattered everywhere, and his StarkPad is displaying something in 3D—fuck that’s so cool. The television is on, muted, the History channel playing a documentary on Ancient Egypt. A glass of mostly empty whiskey sits perched in one of the man’s tanned hands.

Quiet as he tried to be, some noise must slip out because Tony’s head turns. He looks wide awake for the late hour. “Hey, kid,” Tony says, eyebrows lifting. “You’re so quiet in there, I honestly forgot you were here.”

“I get that a lot,” Peter mumbles. He points to the kitchen, one hand absently trying to pat at his curls and decide if he looks like a hot-mess or just a mess-mess. “Can I get something to eat?”

“Mi casa es su casa, now. Literally. Help yourself to whatever you like, and if you want to keep me from eating something, put your name on it or hide it behind the vegetables.”

Peter snorts. “Noted. I just didn’t know if I was like, supposed to pay for my own groceries first. I don’t have any money.” He’s been spending his SI checks on motel rooms so that he’s not sleeping outdoors, but the other man doesn’t need to know that.

“Nobody pays for their groceries,” Tony says absently, already looking back to the hologram projected by his StarkPad. He prods at something with the end of his pencil. “Just eat what you want and let me know if you want me to order you something special.”

“Nobody pays for their food?” Peter mutters, looking into the refrigerator. It’s stocked with everything he could possibly want, and several things he can’t even name: fruits of strange shapes and colors, cheeses that smell nothing like cheese, milk that doesn’t come from a cow. “You just buy all the Avengers food, all the time?”

“I am the Avengers’ wallet, kid,” says Tony. “I house them, I buy them whatever they need, I upgrade their suits and weapons, provide any special technologies my brain can cook-up. I provide most of the paycheck—but SHIELD does help. Truth be told, the risk of the job isn’t worth what it pays, so if that’s why you said yes, you might want to rethink things.”

“No offense,” says Peter, sitting at the stool by the marble countertop. He has three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in front of him made with crunchy peanut butter and organic raspberry jelly and wheat bread that is thick and brown and fragrant. His mouth waters. “But you’ve spoken like a true billionaire. Money and security? That’s worth everything.”

Tony stops what he’s doing. He puts his StarkPad down to rest in his lap, and the look on his face—Peter can’t pin it down, but it makes his shoulders hunch. Did he say something wrong?

“No offense, but you’ve spoken like a Dickensian protagonist. It’s worth everything?” Tony repeats. “Worth dying for?”

Peter shrugs. “If I’m dead, who cares. It’s worth almost dying for, though. Or at least—it is to me.”

Tony’s expression makes him look ten years older than he is, Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Peter, if you need financial security—I can take care of that. Look, I can fill in a lot of the blanks when it comes to your past and how you’ve had to rough it, but here at SI we take care of our own. You don’t need to be an Avenger to eat, to have a place to sleep, to get healthcare. Jesus, you’re only twenty years old; you have your whole life ahead of you. To be honest, kid, this business doesn’t really guarantee longevity. There isn’t a retirement plan.”

Peter stares. His eyes burn but he isn’t a crier. He cried at May’s ‘funeral’, when he couldn’t afford to bury her and they’d cremated her instead—and he’d promised himself that it was the last time he’d cry for as long as he lived. So he doesn’t cry now, but he kind of wants to. In his mind he sees Ben, sees the man who killed him, feels the helplessness and the guilt all over again.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he says. He pauses to clear his throat so it doesn’t sound choked. Peanut butter is sticky; that’s all. “But you don’t know everything about my past. I’m not just doing this for the money.”

The silence lays thick between them, broken only when Tony nods and says, “That’s fair. Would you do me a favor and bring me a beer while you’re over there? Bottom shelf. Behind the quinoa.”

Peter has no fucking idea what quinoa is, but the refrigerator isn’t Mary Poppin’s purse or something, so he finds the beer towards the back eventually and grabs a bottle for the older man. There aren’t many left, and Peter sees that it’s because several empty bottles are sitting in a row by Tony’s feet. The stuff looks expensive, has a foreign label in a language that Peter can’t even identify, much less read. He crosses the room to deliver the bottle to the man’s waiting hand.

Tony goes to drink it and bumps the cap against his lip. Peter snorts.

“Cut me some slack,” Tony says around a smile. “I haven’t slept since your little nighttime creepy crawly act on my building. This takes a bottle opener anyway—no, no, I’ll get it, you just sit and eat, you’ve done enough for me—”

Peter takes the bottle and pops the cap with his bare hands. All the beer he’s ever seen were cheap screw-off tops, or he would have rummaged through the drawers for a bottle opener for the man earlier. It isn’t until he’s handing the bottle back and sees Tony’s wide-eyed expression that he realizes not everybody can pop a bottle cap with their thumb.  

“You weren’t kidding about how strong you are,” Tony says.

Peter just shakes his head, slow.

Tony points to the sandwiches on the counter. “I was just about to order in Chinese. What do you think? Better than PB&J?”

Mr. Stark clears the coffee table of his work and orders Chinese from a place he swears is the most authentic place in NYC. Then they spend fifteen minutes arguing about whether to start watching the Star Wars movies at the prequels or originals (because the documentary on TV is a snoozefest, which is why Tony was trying to watch it while he worked). Tony finally concedes to Peter’s persuasion, but Peter sees him smiling around the neck of his bottle as he takes a generous sip.

They put on the Phantom Menace.

“So tell me about yourself,” Tony says after the Chinese has arrived, sitting in various boxes scattered across the glass coffee table. He ordered an inordinate amount, and Peter plans to make sure that absolutely no grain of rice goes to waste, thanking the older man between bites. “I know more about your scopulae than I do you—and that’s not a weird metaphor.”

Suddenly Peter’s stomach isn’t used to being so full, and it rolls a little with nausea. He sets his plate down to let it settle.

“You made it sound like you already knew everything about me. What do you want to know?” he asks. He’s keenly aware of how painful his life has been. It sounds like a Shakespearean tragedy when he plays it out in his head: his parents’ untimely deaths, seeing his Uncle murdered (his fault, all Peter’s fault—), then his aunt passing away from illness. Losing the apartment. Living on the streets and in shelters and in any buildings he could scale or break into.

“Whatever you want to tell, kid,” says Tony. “It’s not an interview or an interrogation. FRI says you’re a native of Queens.”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Yeah. I’m from Queens.”

“I’m sorry,” says Tony gravely.

Peter smiles. “Queens isn’t bad, really.”

“Any family?” Tony asks. He stares at the screen where Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-Wan are bickering and takes a swig from the long-necked bottle, casual as can be, like he knows the answer is heavy but they have to get it out of the way.

The smile slips from Peter’s face. He shakes his head. “I’m alone.”

“No, you aren’t,” Tony says with conviction. “You’re an Avenger now. We’re all assholes, but we watch out for each other. It really is a family of sorts. A dysfunctional family, with an aunt who’s great at murder, a centennial grandfather, and an uncle who drinks too much, but such is life, right?”

“Who are you in that scenario?” Peter laughs. Something settles in Peter’s stomach, warm, like hot chocolate after coming in from the cold. Tony is so fucking nice. How does this man have everything? Looks, brains, money, and kindness.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Tony holds up the beer bottle. “I’m the uncle who overindulges.”

At that moment, a noise pierces the air. Peter jumps, heart hammering. “What’s that?” He asks.

“Just the bell, kid, no worries. FRI, who is it baby?”

“Captain Rogers, sir.”

Both of them go stiff in their seats. After a moment, Tony relaxes again, but Peter can’t let his guard down, not when that name makes his muscles clench in anticipation for a fight, when it makes his scalp prickle with anxiety and warning. “Let him in,” Tony says, standing. By the time Captain Rogers appears, Tony has a beer out for him.

Steve stops when he sees Peter sitting on the couch. The blond takes it all in: the movie on screen, the mostly-eaten food, the empty beer bottles on the table (which he eyes with disapproval). It must look like Peter and Tony are very familiar with each other, Peter in his pajamas, Tony in just his jeans and the wifebeater that was under his t-shirt while he worked down in the lab.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony says. He holds up the bottle. “Drink?”

“No thanks, Tony. Can I talk to you outside?” The look he gives Peter is apologetic enough. “Sorry kid, you aren’t an official Avenger yet until your induction, or I wouldn’t bother with all the secrecy.”

“It’s fine,” Peter says stiffly.

“I’ll be just a minute, Pete,” Tony says. They step outside.

-

Peter hears everything through the walls from his seat on the couch. The television plays but does nothing to disguise the raised voices from beyond the door. Peter wishes he could see their faces, but (no matter how cool it would have been) he didn’t develop x-ray vision from the spider bite. Maybe it’s for the best—maybe Peter couldn’t be held responsible for his actions otherwise.

“What’s going on between you two?” Steve asks.

“What are you talking about? We were eating Chinese and watching Star Wars.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate?”

“I sure as hell did, but he insisted that we start with the Phantom Menace and not A New Hope—”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Are you grooming him?” Steve sounds horrified at the thought, and Peter can’t assess his face to tell if he’s sincere or not. “A homeless kid you found, and suddenly you’re giving him a room in your penthouse, a job, you’re spending the day with him in the lab? And now, what, you’re plying him with alcohol?”

“I am not grooming Peter,” Tony says. His voice sounds firm. Good! Peter thinks. “He’s in there drinking a goddamn Coke. To be honest, I’m shocked that you even know the term, I didn’t think grooming officially existed in the Stone Age—”

“I take all the classes SHIELD requires of me to lead the team and keep people safe, even from attacks that aren’t always with fists or alien tech. Grooming has always existed; as long as there is prey, there are predators looking—”

“Peter is not prey, he could fucking snap me in half—!”

“But not if you make him like you, is that it? Not if he thinks he owes you—”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

The silence after that lasts a moment too long, and Peter shuts his eyes. Because he can hear more in that silence than he did in Tony’s exclamation—Tony is beginning to doubt himself. He’s beginning to believe the worst in himself. They’ve only known each other for forty-eight hours, but Peter already feels like he knows Tony better than the people around him: the painful vulnerability, the intense self-criticism.

“Look, if it will make everyone feel better, I’ll move his room—”

“God damn it,” Peter hisses.

“—maybe Vision wouldn’t mind rooming up here with me. I’m practically his father, or—something.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Steve says magnanimously.

“I bet you do, asshole,” Peter mutters.

“Is this all you came up here for?” Tony asks. “To read me the riot act over treating the kid like I’d treat any of you—if any of you liked me enough to invite me to your get-togethers or to accept my offers to join me up here—”

“I had a reason. Here,” something is exchanged hands, the rustle of paper. “Fury’s background check on Queens in there. It’s very thorough and enlightening—”

“And not my business,” Tony says. “This is confidential even by SHIELD standards—do I have clearance to have this?”

“I thought there was something in there that might be important for you to know. The kid used to work for Hammer Industries.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Well, this is it. It was lovely, folks! Peter should just pack his bag now. Maybe the windows in his room open so he can slip out and scale the side of the building. For a moment he thinks about how it might feel to just let himself fall. Now that he’s tasted this bite of a better life, returning to his old ways will be even more painful. But Peter doesn’t even know if the fall would kill him—

“Hammer Industries?” Tony says at length. “He definitely upgraded.”

“I want to look out for you, Tony,” Steve says.

Peter doesn’t believe a word of that.

The worst part of all is that he has to sit there on the couch and pretend like he hasn’t heard the entire conversation. How can he explain—how he’s always had a passion for tech, how he never even dreamed of being able to work at Stark Industries, so he’d shot for the moon instead of the stars, settling at Hammer Industries. Only the place had been a shitheap with a perverted boss and Peter saved up enough to cut his losses, and then Stark Industries had accepted him! Even working on machines in the maintenance department…it was more than Peter had ever dreamed.

But Tony doesn’t know that. The look on his face when he comes back in the room is grave.

“Hey kid,” he says. “Sorry I missed some of the movie.”

“It’s okay,” Peter lies.

Tony sits back down on the couch, as far away from Peter as he possibly can. He doesn’t take a single sip more of alcohol, and while he is friendly enough when Peter asks him a question, he doesn’t let himself be roped into conversation anymore. He stares at the television screen like he’s seeing through it, and Peter feels it slipping away—his chances at being close with Tony crumbling like sand through his fingers.

What he decides to do is to say something. Anything.

What he does is scoot across the couch and climb into the man’s lap, straddling the strong thighs. Tony looks at him like two separate heads have sprouted from his ears. Instinct has him pushing at Peter sharply, and it’s only Peter’s enhanced sense of balance and grip that has him twisting to avoid being pushed flat onto the glass coffee table. He lands like a cat in the slim space between the sofa and the coffee table.

“Get off of me—”

“Please let me explain—”

“Explain what?” The man swallows, heavily, staring down at where Peter kneels between his thighs. The sound is loud to Peter’s ears; he can hear it all, the pounding heart too. “Jesus Christ, you don’t need to be in my lap to have a conversation with me, do you?”

“I did work for Hammer Industries,” Peter says. “But I worked maintenance for them, too. They were shit, they treated us like shit, Hammer was a creep who used to grab my ass in the hallways, and I quit before I even had another job, that’s how desperate I was to get away.”

“You heard all that?” Tony asks, eyes wide enough to show white all around the dark iris. “Fuck, kid, eavesdropping—?”

“I have enhanced senses,” Peter pleads. “I can hear everything if it’s close enough. I can hear the Avengers on the floor below us when they’ve got a movie turned up too loud, I just, I didn’t want to say anything because it’s so creepy, but I can’t help it, and, and—”

“Hey, calm down. Here, will you get up? You’re going to give me a heart attack. Come sit on the couch, we’ll talk.”

They resume their seats on opposite ends of the couch. Peter looks down at his shaking hands, clenches them tight until his knuckles go white, but it’s not just his hands: his whole body shakes. Peter has never been gifted with words, something that has only became worse after the passing of his aunt, when he had no one to talk to. If all of this—the chance to be around Tony, the penthouse, the Avengers—if it all relies on Peter talking his way into it…then he’s doomed.

Tony scrubs at his face with a weathered hand. He looks exhausted. “I’m really sorry that you heard all of that out there,” he says at length.

“None of it was true,” Peter blurts. His blood thrums when he remembers all of Steve’s words. “You aren’t grooming me. Not to mention, I’m a fucking adult.”

“A vulnerable one,” concedes Tony.

“So are you,” Peter says through his teeth. “Everybody is vulnerable to something. You want to pity homeless youth, go find one who is really suffering. I’m enhanced! I can climb walls even in the rain to get somewhere safe and dry. I don’t have to worry about anyone mugging me or, or raping me, because I could just pull their arms and legs off. I’m not vulnerable. I’m just—”

“Just what,” asks Tony, motioning with a hand when the younger man’s words cut off. “Go on, kid. I’m listening to you.”

“I’m just a guy who—who is finally getting everything that he wanted,” Peter says. All the anger is sapped from his veins now, and he feels old and heavy and tired, his eyes burning traitorously until he blinks them clear and dry. “I’ve wanted to work with science since I was old enough to go to school. But I don’t have an education, I don’t have a degree. I didn’t even finish high school. Places only hire me for grunt work, but I’m good with machines. I figured maybe I could, could work my way up. To something. Working at Stark Industries was just a pipe dream. I never thought I’d get a chance, but my Aunt May…she used to say that I’m too pessimistic, and I should open myself up to good things, because good things will happen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away Mr. Stark.”

“Peter—it’s okay. I wasn’t worried about you working at Hammer Industries as it was. Hammer isn’t clever enough to infiltrate my building, and even if he were? My secrets are a lot harder to steal than anyone might think. If FRIDAY had seen you doing anything suspicious, she would have notified me in a heartbeat. That’s all shit; I know that.” Tony clears his throat. “But Cap was right about one thing. I don’t want you getting ideas in your head, that you have to treat me a certain way to stay on the team and in the Tower, or that I expect any treatment like that.”

Peter groans. “I don’t think that. I’m not twelve. Besides, the other Avengers treat you like shit, and you keep them around—”

“Hey,” says Tony, raising his voice a little. “They don’t treat me like shit, so knock it off. Having you up here in the penthouse does give the wrong impression. I don’t want you or anyone else to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”

“What—what if I want you to?” Peter asks. He dares a look at the older man; God, he’s so handsome, even looking stunned as he is. His mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn’t sure what to say, and Peter takes the chance to continue. “I know I’m young, and I’m not the best looking guy around, not even the best looking one in the Tower, but I’ve had a crush on you since like, 2008. You’re everything I’ve dreamed of, Mr. Stark, and somehow I’m here in your penthouse and we ate Chinese together and I don’t want to let it go.”

“Peter—” Tony looks stricken, face pale.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Peter amends quickly. “I know you’re busy, and I’m going to be too, I guess. No pressure. You could just let me know when—when you wanted me and I’d be there for you.”

“Kid,” says Tony. “Stop. That’s not the way I work, and that’s not the way I want you to work. You shouldn’t let anybody treat you like that—”

“I wouldn’t let anybody treat me like that,” Peter promises. “Just you, Mr. Stark.”

That does something to the man. Tony groans, reaching up to palm at his eyes. “You don’t make it easy on me, appealing to all my seedy kinks, kid. If I’d met you ten years ago—yikes, not ten-year-old you, twenty-year-old you but, yeah, alright, you catch my drift. If I was the same man now that I was ten years ago, I wouldn’t hesitate Peter. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Besides the spider bite, I’m really not that special,” Peter says. “But I’m okay with that. Most people aren’t special.”

“That’s not true,” says Tony. “I’ve got three emails in my inbox from my head of Maintenance begging to have you back, saying that you’re a wunderkind with the machines and that the HVAC hasn’t been in such good shape since it was first installed. You’ve made quite an impression down there—and on me, too.”

“Really?” Peter asks. He can’t help but sit up straighter, buoyant butterflies in his stomach uplifting him.

“Really,” Tony confirms. “I like the way you listen, kid. The hero worship thing, too. You’ve got to know that that plays right into my ego. Fuck, Steve’s right. I’m really not a very good man.”

“I don’t care what Steve Rogers thinks,” Peter breathes. He shifts up onto his knees, edging towards the man at the other end of the couch. By the time he stops, his feet are tucked underneath him, knees touching Tony’s thighs. Peter reaches out to put a hand on his bicep, and the older man flexes instinctively. “I can hear that, you know. The way your heartbeat just picked up.”

Tony swallows. “Not something I usually have to hide.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me,” Peter says. “Mr. Stark?”

“What, kid?”

“Would you kiss me?”

“That wouldn’t be fair to you. Because after this conversation ends, I’m going to ask you to switch rooms with Vision.”

Peter can sense the weakness in Tony’s will, and he uses it to shift himself onto the older man’s lap, back where he was when this conversation began. Only this time Tony doesn’t push him away, just leans his head back against the couch cushions and closes his eyes. Peter stares, awed. Something about him is attractive to Mr. Stark, something that has the man barely hanging on to his control. The power is a heady thing, makes his body sway forward the way it does when he’s standing on a tall building too close to the edge. This power over the man is just as great a responsibility as his spider senses, and he would never, never misuse it.

“I don’t ever want this conversation to end, then,” Peter admits, letting his fingers drift up from where they’re resting on the man’s bicep, up along the t-shirt he’s wearing and to his neck where his pulse is hammering away. Peter presses, so gently on that carotid artery, and Mr. Stark’s mouth opens, a silent sound that deafens Peter. The younger man’s cock is rapidly hardening, but he keeps his hips pulled back lest he be too tempted to grind on Tony’s abs.

“Everything ends, kid.” The rumble of Tony’s voice reverberates through Peter and makes him shiver.

Peter carefully lets his weight down—and yes, he feels a distinct bulge in the other man’s pants, hears the way that heart stutters, resumes its beating in double-time. Tony sucks in a breath through his nose and holds it until his lungs must be aching. “I’m going to kiss you now,” Peter warns.

Tony tilts his head back up until there is nowhere to look but at each other. Slowly to give the man time to pull away, Peter ducks his head in until their panting breaths are mingling between their open mouths, and Peter decides that if Tony didn’t want Peter to, he wouldn’t have his eyes closed this way, wouldn’t have let his hands grip at Peter’s thighs to pull him further down on the man’s cock.

“One kiss,” Tony says, their lips brushing. “And then you have to go downstairs, Peter. So make it count.”

“I will,” Peter promises.

And he does. Their mouths are open when they meet, and Tony’s mouth feels better than Peter might have ever imagined it to be: soft and firm and eager, coming to life like a live wire beneath Peter’s less experienced lips. But what Peter lacks in experience he makes up for in exuberance, letting both hands come up to tangle in the older man’s dark hair, letting his hips rest heavy on that hard cock beneath him just to feel the way Tony’s groan makes them both vibrate. Peter reaches out blindly and uses one hand to brace himself on the back of the couch so that he can grind down on the cock beneath him.

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breaks apart to breathe.

“I won’t let you cheat me; I’m not done with my kiss,” Peter says, pulling him back, their mouths raw and red. He sucks on the clever tongue and then pulls away to feel the burn of Tony’s facial hair against his oversensitive mouth, keeping the contact (still counts as one kiss, right? If Peter never completely pulls his lips away?) until it leads him down to that pounding pulse that he can lick and suck at. When he plants his teeth there, Tony hisses, hips thrusting up reflexively to drive his hard cock into the hot cradle of Peter’s hips.

“God, I’ve wanted this forever,” Peter says, scraping his teeth against the warm skin of Tony’s neck. “How am I supposed to stop, Mr. Stark? I—I don’t think I can.”

“Peter—one of us has to—has to—fuck, your mouth—!”

“If one of us has to fuck my mouth, I hope it’s you—”

“Christ, don’t say shit like that,” Tony gasps. “Who knew you had such a filthy fucking mouth.”

“Wait until you see what my filthy mouth can do,” Peter says, desperate fingers tugging down the collar of Tony’s t-shirt to suck a bruise onto his collarbone, and it makes the man’s hips stutter beneath him. Peter finally pulls away (this has been far more than one kiss, but he doesn’t think Tony minds much anymore) and stares at Tony’s face. His eyes are closed, lashes long and dark where they brush his cheeks. He has the loveliest mouth, full and expressive and a little swollen from the way Peter nipped at his lips.

Their mouths are drawn back together, two magnets always seeking each other out. This kiss is better, a little more experienced. It’s give and take, both of them swaying into each other like sails caught in the breeze, the lap of warm tongues like waves against a ship’s hull, their ever present arousal being driven higher and higher. Peter reaches down to slip one hand beneath Tony’s jean-clad ass and pull the man up, harder, the friction on their cocks so painfully good that he can’t help but whine in the back of his throat.

“I can’t believe a tiny thing like you is so fucking strong,” Tony says through his teeth, slipping both his hands down into the back pockets of Peter’s jeans. When he squeezes Peter’s ass, he can’t help but jump, cock spitting precum in his boxers.

“Does—does it turn you on?” Peter asks, already suspecting the answer, the dark flash of Tony’s eyes when Peter popped the bottle cap with his bare hand replaying in his mind. “Knowing how much stronger than you I am? If I, If I wanted to, I could snap you in half just like you said to Steve. But I’d never do that. Maybe I’d just hold you down so that I could climb on top of you and ride your cock just the way I wanted to—”

“Fuck—kid, you keep talking like that and I’m going to blow in my pants.”

Peter’s breath catches. He slows his frantic grinding, turning them into long, deep strokes. “That’s what I want,” he whispers. “I want to see you cum, please, Mr. Stark? You make it sound like this might be my only chance. That would be a crime though, because there’s so much I want to do to you, suck your ridiculous brain out through your cock and swallow your cum and rim you and pin you flat to whatever surface we’re closest to—whatever works—and ride your cock, or, or give you mine—”

Tony’s back arches, cutting off a strangled shout. He stays that way, head back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in ecstasy for an endless moment, and then his hips drop back down to the couch as he groans, burying his face in Peter’s neck, content to let Peter hump him through his orgasm until he is shaking, oversensitive, heart pounding far too fast for a man of his age and cardiac history. It’s all the most sexual, incredible experience of Peter’s short life, and he knows that it’s not the end. It can’t be.

Even though his cock aches, balls protesting the lack of orgasm, Peter gently shifts himself off the man’s lap, wiping the dark hair from Tony’s forehead, slick with just the beginning of sweat. He places a last tender kiss on the man’s cheek, just above his trimmed facial hair.

“I’ll get my bag,” Peter whispers. “Just give me five minutes.”

Then he stands and disappears into his room, leaving behind the billionaire.

-

Peter stands in what was once Vision’s room feeling bereft. Apparently the man(? cyborg? Peter isn’t sure of what to call him) didn’t care much for decoration, because the room looks as the room upstairs did with all the impersonal warmth of a fancy hotel room. The bed is large and comfortable, sheets clean. The bathroom is black marble, shining and sleek. He should be comfortable here. There’s nothing very different—

—except for the company.

Steve Rogers knocks and then looms in the doorway, leaning against the frame. His face is pleasant enough, a little pitying maybe, but Peter is willing to admit that his own feelings on the man might be clouding his perception. “Hey, Peter. I wanted to see how you were settling in.”

“Oh, hi, Captain,” Peter says. It’s easy to slip on a naïve persona, all guileless wide eyes and timid cracking voice. He just plays up all the characteristics he naturally has, though they all seem to melt away when this man is near. “Would you—would you come in, actually? I have some questions.”

“Sure—”

And when the door closes behind him, Peter is there, a hand flat against it so that try as he might, Steve can’t open it. Any pleasantry saps itself from both of their faces until they regard each other with trepidation (from Steve) and undisguised dislike (from Peter).

“I heard everything you said upstairs when you were talking to Tony,” Peter says through his teeth. He barely recognizes his voice, the darkness in it, the disgust. It feels like possession, like his own anger is a demon inhabiting his body and he’s just along for the ride, staring through the holes of his eyes like they are far away windows. “Do not ever, ever mistake me for prey. I might be in the web along with the flies, but that’s because I am the spider. Tell me: what do you know about spiders?”

“Not much,” Steve admits. He doesn’t look scared, though the tense stance says more than his expressionless face; maybe he isn’t afraid, but he isn’t underestimating Peter either and that’s good. Peter can appreciate that.

“I read all the books in the New York City Public Library about them during the summer I turned fifteen. Did you know that jumping spiders can jump almost 40 times their own length? They can hold up to 150 times their own body weight, too. For their size, they are one of the strongest, fastest animals in the world. Maybe those statistics don’t carry over to me; maybe the mass makes things different, maybe since I don’t have an exoskeleton, maybe since I only have four legs and not eight—but maybe they do reflect my abilities. And maybe I am that strong. And I don’t want you to forget it.”

“Are you threatening me Peter?” Steve asks solemnly.

“No,” Peter says. “I’m defending myself, and I’m defending Tony. Remember that.”

Steve looks at him, serious. “I will. Is that all, kid?”

If he thought that he’d find any satisfaction in threatening Steve Rogers, he was wrong. All he feels after the door closes is empty, angry, a pot with the lid on tight even though the pressure builds and builds, desperate to boil over. There’s no relief to be found; his fury is so impotent. Nothing he can do would change Tony’s mind (and he doesn’t want to change Tony’s mind, he wants Tony’s mind to change on its own).

For the first time, he feels scared of himself.

But all he can do is persist, exist, like a weed coming up through the crack of the Avengers’ concrete.

Peter undresses and lays in the comfortable bed, staring up at the darkness of the ceiling. For a while he tosses and turns (can a bed be too comfortable? Too soft and yielding to his every curve? Talk about first-world problems), but then he sits up in the dark.

On the floor above him, Mr. Stark has started playing music. Loud. Loud enough for Peter to hear.

He takes one of the fluffy pillows and tucks it between his arms where (ideally) another body would rest. Closing his eyes, he falls asleep to the sounds of Led Zeppelin’s greatest hits. He dreams of rain on the windows.

[gremmin]

The other day I had a dream:

(There was a chameleon changing colors when I seen him he tried to hid from me this was me and my sister in the same place like a Arizona type house but she’s been being very distant to me lately, ✨)

Ooo he chameleon shows us The ability to camouflage is something that is used to defend against unwanted predators in the wild. To see a chameleon in your dream means that you are recognizing your ability to change and adapt to the environment around you. 🦎 (So it is saying I have to camouflage myself when I’m around Sonya and other people to protect myself and that it is becoming more easily for me to obtain being that way) 🦎 as well as A dream about a chameleon shows that you have the ability to change and adapt to strange and uncertain circumstances in your life, especially if the chameleon in your dream is adapting to a healthy green environment. The dream shows that no matter what is thrown at you, you can handle it.

The chameleon symbolism represents a period of changes. ... The chameleon spirit animal symbolizes sensitivity and clairvoyance. It encourages you to have patience, to gain insight, to always be curious, and to be resourceful. I’ve forgotten what color it changed to but I’m pretty sure it was green turning into a blue.?

The next sign I saw was a mini pig 🐖

To dream of a pig is associated with being rather stubborn in life. It can be associated with gluttony and greed in waking life. Additionally, the pig can also stand for a terrible menace. Perhaps somebody has cost you dearly or treated you badly. 🐖 (since this was a mini pig in the dream this shouldn’t be as big of a problem but a small annoyance, it can mean maybe I’m walking with greed, this could be for certain reason because why would I want to give to my sister who is hating me, maybe I’m being blind in a side, Sonya has been treating me horribly as if I’m not even in the house when she came up stairs, this only adds to how much I won’t want to “forgive” her. Fuck her.

🐖 In dreams, pigs can be a sign of stubbornness, selfishness, filth, gluttony, greed, overindulging and similar things. This dream could represent someone in your life with such traits, or it could reveal some of your characteristics, pointing out that you need to change them ( I’m just going to flat out assume that it’s about Sonya because it only make SO MUCH SENCE) come to a fact that Sonya was actually born under the pig totem in Chinese totem! As well as Kenny! They are about the same people lmfaooooo

The next sign I saw was me riding on a horse I cannot remember the color at this time: 🐎

Riding a Horse – If you dream that you are riding a horse it can indicate a control over your natural instincts and a strong drive towards your goals in life. ... Controlling or Restricting a Horse – If you see a horse that is being constrained and controlled it can indicate a feeling of your true self being repressed. 🐴 ( I’ve learned a lot how to handle myself and respect myself in a lot of ways now, I have strong goals and I could feel tied up because my relationship a bit but maybe I’m overthinking it, but I’ve taken a lot of control myself to be able to drive and feel confident while driving, I’m getting close to some goals.)

Horse. ... The horse is a universal symbol of freedom without restraint, because riding a horse made people feel they could free themselves from their own bindings. Also linked with riding horses, they are symbols of travel, movement, and desire. 🐴 (I’m a half of Sagittarius I have a strong will to travel and a lot of desires, a lot of movement is key to my source of energy)

Other characteristics horses represent are prosperity, forward motion, growth, loyalty, and stamina. Moreover, all horses are associated with the feng shui element of fire, as well as strong yang.

I’m feeling as if the horse was a light brown; Brown is the color of stability, comfort, and the home. Brown horses in dreams can symbolize a time of feeling safe and secure in our relationships at home and even indicate a comfort with ourselves.

Riding a horse in this manner means that we have command over impulses, our instincts, our intuition, and are friends with our unconscious 🐎 (Like Iv said I have taken a lot of time to work on myself along with my impulsiveness and my sexual instincts, my intuition has become quite sharp as well it all makes me super happy and I feel calmer in life now, I now expect for things to happen for a reason. I don’t have a lot of friends but I have quite a few acquaintances, a friend is someone I can be completely open with a someone I can talk to without hesitations and Iv known them for quite some time, you earn your stripes in my eyes lol )

The next sign was walking my dog Harley, 🐕 now Harley has passed for a long time now I’d say about 9 years now wow.. I always need to give him a moment I’m very sad on how I lost him.. rip my babyboy Harley,

To take a dog for a walk in the dream is a positive sign which denotes that, you will have much success and your life is highly productive. So keep working hard to maintain your lifestyle. If you see another person walk a dog in the dream it means that you feel you are in charge of something you are accomplishing. 🐕 (I was actually walking Harley while riding the horse lol it wasn’t hard but Harley was going slow at sometimes and I was nervous about his walking rope/chain. 🐕 ( maybe this was indicating that I will have a big amount of power with a type of business that I have that I will have success but it could be rocky at times,)

To see a dog in your dream symbolizes intuition, loyalty, generosity, protection, and fidelity. The dream may suggest that your values and good intentions will bring you success

The next sign was someone eating a mushroom, that so happened to be Austin my bf eating the mushrooms lmao this wasn’t a very good choice for him in the dream because it was a unknow mushroom and if I remember correctly he didn’t feel good after eating it:

Mushrooms are very symbolic and can mean quite a few different things. If in your dream you are eating mushrooms rather carelessly, this may indicate a sudden abundance of wealth. However, this is a wealth that is dealt with somewhat foolishly. ... Dreaming of a mushrooms that are growing in the ground symbolize fertility. 🍄 (this is probably saying he will get a large amount of money but handle it carelessly, and loose it all this is what I’m always worried with him/: I’m really good at money but he can be very poorly with it)

Eating mushrooms in a dream is a symbol of a happy marriage and a full life, dream books predict. 🍄( it was a dream of Austin and I so we should have a happy marriage one day and a full life together ) 💕

Eating raw mushrooms - unexpectedly interesting relationships. 🍄( Austin was eating the mushrooms raw I’m nervous of him trying to have a affair one day.. even though he’s not like that I still have to suspect it) 💔

if you pick up mushrooms, it means that you will receive unpredictable reward for hard work and diligence, manifested in some deals. After eating mushrooms in a dream, you will have only pleasure and enjoyment in life. 🍄( Austin picked them up lol)

Another sign was a pink prying mantis:

To dream of a praying mantis represents your feelings about a person or situation that has a total disregard for your feelings. Feeling that someone is intentionally unsupportive. ... A praying mantis may also reflect your own attempts to pressure people with fear or unbearableness to get them to go away. ✨( Sonya has disregard for my feelings asf lmao she is a very UNsupporive person in my life) ( I can say that I pressure people a lot into leaving me alone because I know it’s for the best and I guess that’s just how I like to live, easy and simple)

A Spiritual Symbol of Peace and Patience. The Praying Mantis naturally attracts attention. Its beautiful color and graceful form command us to look and ponder. Encountering these remarkable insects may indicate that Spirit is speaking to you in an important way. ✨( that could be saying to have more peace and patience and to watch in silence)

Overwhelmingly in most cultures the mantis is a symbol of stillness. As such, she is an ambassador from the animal kingdom giving testimony to the benefits of meditation, and calming our minds. An appearance from the mantis is a message to be still, go within, meditate, get quite and reach a place of calm. ✨( this week I am home alone Austin goes to work and colter is at my moms for the week I’m going to be cleaning but also working on myself with excersizing and more meditation with my spirit guides) I need to take time to be calm and collected and to understand so much more and love this silence I get to have this week)

The color pink for the pink prying mantis is that Pink, a delicate color that means sweet, nice, playful, cute, romantic, charming, feminine, and tenderness, is associated with flowers, babies, and sweetness. The color pink is the color of universal love of oneself and of others. 💞( this pink is meaning to be sweet and having all that good energy put to use, good things come out of it)

(Before all this a sign I had in a earlier dream before this long dream took place I was with Logan and Crista she was still pregnant and I seen a color black take over, I have a lot of rocky dreams with those two and they seem to always be rough and confusing. ) I’ll look up a lot what it means at some point but here is what the color black indicates:

Color Meaning: Meaning of The Color Black. ... Black is associated with power, fear, mystery, strength, authority, elegance, formality, death, evil, and aggression, authority, rebellion, and sophistication. Black is required for all other colors to have depth and variation of hue. The black color is the absence of color.

[thesagedahlia]

💔 Apryl Jones & Lil Fizz: The Re-Up💔

Gone for a minute, now we back with the jumpoff...no, I'm not talking about Apryl 👩🏾‍🦲☻

When my prediction of their break-up came to past, I wasn't as excited of my skill, as I was indifferent about the loss of this "relationshituation". I pulled cards the day it was announced as well, & I keep getting the tower card (for those that don't know, the tower is faulty foundations that come crashing down, or even self realizations, & a lot of the time is triggered by the powers that be), so I felt they were done-zo, like not for 'play play'. I also picked up on her deflecting the relationship & downplaying what really happened (like, I can't get the tower multiple times & NOT think there was more to the situation). My interest was dying down however, so I almost didn't do this whole project. Thanks to a tip from one of my followers, who spotted Apryl & Fizz together & speculated that she was with child, my 'nosey' nose started itching. Come to find out, it seems their 'paradise' blew up right in their faces, & it was in ways that I both did & didn't expect...

By the way, they still unfollow each other till this day 💅🏾

**DISCLAIMER**

I am not declaring, nor am I insinuating, that anything I say in my predictions are true accounts of any of the parties involved. This reading is for entertainment purposes only, & should only taken as such. All in good fun, folks 🤷🏾‍♀️🧿

💔The state of Apryl & Fizz's relationship energetically❔

I feel like their break-up was triggered by some reckless or careless behavior out of boredom or lack of fun. I feel like one or both people started to become discontent & dissatisfied within the relationship. Undelivered promises may have caused some loneliness as well, which is pointing to a possible infidelity. Their foundation wasn't as strong as they made it seem to be, & if feels like Apryl was who created issues outside of the equation. I also have reason to believe whoever she 'slept with' (if she did) led to a pregnancy scare/unwanted pregnancy. I feel like there was confusion as to who fathered the child. I feel like there was a separation to were Apryl probably didn't tell this everything, or she did & it wasn't believed. It feels like there is a complete lack of clarity or illumination regarding this possible pregnancy scare. I also feel like if Apryl was pregnant, she may have had fertility issues or as she may have contemplated an abortion or went through with terminating the pregnancy. I feel like they argued a lot of about what happened & it caused a lot of stress. I don't think there in the best place & Apryl may be remorseful & apologetic, but I also feel like she is defensive of her actions. Fizz feels like he has a chip on his shoulder over this, & he firmly believes that she's repeated negative patterns out of boredom. I feel like Fizz has also found peace within his solitude, & I don't feel like he is looking to fix things with Apryl. I feel there was a reality check of the stagnation they were experiencing, but I think it put a damper on their actual friendship. I'm also getting a strong feeling that whoever it is that she is being accused of sleeping with feels like an old friend or an ex of hers. Until there is ability to assert control or to receive some sort of revelation, there is an energy of uncertain outcomes or playing the waiting game. Fizz may not have been as active regarding her 'pregnancy scare', because of the overwhelming possibility that it could have been someone else's. This could honestly be a case of unrequited love or challenges to let go of a heartbreaker I'm also getting the feeling that they tried a long distance stent and their relationship but it still wasn't enough to bring things into balance.

💔 Did they break up/why❓

I'm going to say yes, they did at that time it was announced that they did, & it was a case of possible infidelity. Apryl comes off as the 'party girl' type, so she definitely has doing some overindulging, but it led to some confusion in the relationship. Apryl was being recognized around the streets, if you dig what I'm saying. It feels like it was a friend, or ex of Apryl's, that she may have been rumored to have hooked up with (I'd say it was either a friend of Apryl's, Fizz's, or this can be a mutual friend of both) that seemed to be a 'one night', if you will. I feel there was a clinging on to this relationship after a while, & a shred of it does seek the attention that comes with being together, but the connection got a little routine & burdening. It did feel like someone was searching outside of the relationship, but it didn't seem intentional; it felt like it happened naturally. Apryl is wanting a happy family life, but she is looking for in all the wrong ways out of loneliness. I feel like her children with Omarion became a priority when custody was awarded to him. I feel that dealing with that became more important than her relationship with Fizz, so plans have changed. I also feel it was hard for Fizz to process if Apryl was dealing with the friend or not, & I think the whole situation of that changed the dynamic of their relationship as a whole. There was a realization that they weren't going to grow from this, as there was no real direction. I feel like it not only drove a wedge into their relationship but also the friends relationship with each of them.

💔SINGLE LIFE💔

💃🏾 How is Apryl Jones coping with the single life ❔

She seems like she is focus on her foundations & achievements namely her family/children. It's also a strong energy of her focusing on herself & not looking to deal with love or a relationship. This is the age of someone who is single, but I do feel like she hooks up from time to time; single, yet mingling. I certainly don't feel Apryl in the house every night, & she does deal with men (or it can be a specific water sign man) that aren't emotionally mature, are emotionally manipulative, & comes off as the non-committal types. I don't feel her wanting to commit right now & it may be from discouragement or fear of uncertainty. She has a blocked heart chakra so emotionally she may be unstable herself. I do feel her really being hung up on what she went through with Omarian, but I also feel she still wanting a happy ending with someone. She's not in the right emotional state right now, so anyone she gets involved with will be unorganized or unconventional. I feel like her relationship with Fizz was a way to lash out through what she was feeling. I see her being attached from her emotions & love as well, & she may be attracting non emotional men to 'tame her beasts'. I feel like this is her way to cope, but it doesn't stick for her. She doesn't open up about how she may be suffering, & she copes in silence as well. I feel like she doesn't want to have relationships/friendships because I feel they have caused her a lot of drama & stress in her life in general, as well as her love life. She's operating on inner conflict & pain, so she is in the mindset of not allowing friends/partners into her life for too long if they begin to cause her stress.

🕺🏾How is Lil Fizz coping with the single life❓

Fizz feels like he isn't making any decisions or movements to be committed to anyone, as I feel he is getting over the relationship with Apryl & I felt that to have been taken as a failure or an embarrassment to him. I feel he felt good about his relationship with her in the past, at first, & he felt it to be fulfilling his wishes. I think really committing is a challenge for him, so I don't see him being open to a relationship anytime soon. I do feel like he's not sitting at home either & he is also in much of an in-&-out player energy with women. They both seem to be lacking introspection, but with Fizz, he seems to be coming out of his emotions as opposed to them. I do feel like he is coping with the same methods as Apryl, but he seemed to be content with this function (or so he is making himself believe this). I feel he will open up intuitively & spiritually when he begins gaining clarity on why love hasn't worked out for him in the past, & a lot of the time he would either be mismatched or we he would attract very logical or cold women. For him, this may be a slow discovery/recovery from this, & it will be a matter of gaining illumination to patterns. I also feel Fizz really does want to find someone he has genuine feelings towards & someone he would be willing to commit to, just like Apryl, but he needs to understand why he attracts certain women. I also feel he gets wary of women who gets involved with him because he's 'Lil Fizz'. He wants security & stability with someone he cares for, but he has to start getting serious about the type of girl to be with. I feel like these types of women are familiar to him & he may have a hard time implementing these expectations right away.

💔 Do they ever plan on getting back together❔

Right now, their relationship is in a state of conflict regarding some gossip or misinformation about an affair, & it is coming up as an accident that they are both aware of, but I don't think the details or as extensive or as clear. Despite this knowledge putting a wedge into their relationship, the spark went out in their relationship rather quickly as well. Also I think Apryl was trying too hard to force a family with Fizz, which also cause discontentments further promoting the connection has run its course. I feel like in their relationship, Apryl was drawing a lot of negative attention to herself, & it also felt like she is the source of a lot of drama & conflict. I feel Fizz was committed to a fault, but I think he began to become discouraged about the security within their connection. I feel that day felt it was best to close the cycle out & separate, & it feels like deception may have resulted in an unwanted pregnancy, or scare (or at least that is what's speculated). Whether there was issues with the pregnancy fertility issues or mis carriage was experience fertility is coming up a lot; which coincides with Apryl being the permiscuous type. Moving forward, trust issues came up more often than not; even though there was loyalty to the friendship, it feels like an issue of letting go of the past. It feels like they would need to be open to healing the past, but I don't think they are in this space just yet. It may be hard to overlook Apryl's alleged actions, & I feel Fizz is fearful of being cheated on or rejected. This break-up feels final & it feels like there needs to be a mutual effort & desire to be together, without it coming from and unhealed place. The alleged cheating was kind of what called everything off & turn the desire off. Overall, I think the ship has sailed since the situation isn't healed all the way.

💔What lies in the near future for both parties❓

💃🏾 Apryl will be focused on her own stability, or lack thereof, & I feel like she isn't in the best place financially, or in the coming months it will get to an uncomfortable place for her. I'm not sure of her living situation, as it seems she either has roommates, or she is living in between places, but I feel she is dealing with someone she may be dependent on. It's giving me the impression that her only claim to this man is financial stability, while he is only attracted to her for physical appearance. I feel her focus will also be recovering her reputation after the backlash of dating Fizz, which the attention from that was a possible reason why she dealt with him for that time, other than how she felt about him. I feel like she is wanting to build herself back from her relationship with Fizz, as she has had a strong fall from grace with all that has happened, & it may be difficult to recover her respect from the public eye. She has the energy of an underachiever & hasn't got into a place in her life (yet) where she can genuinely say she's financially stable or happy.

🕺🏾 Fizz feel like he is in a mentally entrapping situation that feels like it has to do with Moniece because I'm picking up mothering energy. It feels like he keeps her at bay (or tries to), but I feel like it may start to become difficult to keep her happy, let alone be able to cooperate or coparent with her. I feel this is a never-ending cycle with Mo for him, but I think he is really needing to focus on bringing positivity & optimism to this situation. I feel like he feels a lot of hostile energy, but the only reason for her hostility is due to the lack of forward movement & his lack of discipline/commitment to coparenting. I would even go as far as to say that he can be a absent father at times, or he may wait too long to take any action because he got a chip on his shoulder when it comes to Mo. He really tries to keep any monetary advances away from her but that is putting a wedge within his relationship with his son. In layman's terms, Moniece is gonna fuck around & take his ass to court, which will put him in an even more financial bind.

💔BONUS QUESTIONS💔

👶🏾 Was Apryl ever pregnant by Fizz/is there a child promised to their relationshituation❔

I see the possibility of a scare, but I feel Apryl either had complications or had the pregnancy terminated (or it was just a scare). I feel like she & Fizz had already been broken up, & it is coming up that the scare was revealed after she was separated from Fizz. I also feel Apryl had an affair around the time they separated in a may be a source of reference within a timeline of conception. I get the feeling of reluctance on having to come clean about what was done in the dark because they seem to have been already in a tight space I also believe there was gossip of Apryl being unfaithful that seem to be getting around through mutual friends & that that was where the scare stemmed from, rather than the fact that they were seemingly separated at that time. I also feel like there was even some run-ins regarding these parties. I also feel Fizz was good friends with the man she allegedly had an affair with, or he may have been familiar with him by way of a close knit network. I feel like this hurt Apryl's reputation even worse in private, yet I don't feel there will be a baby to come out of this relationshituation.

🤳🏾 Why have Apryl & Fizz unfollowed each other on Social Media❓

I'm getting the energy that it was obstacles & challenges in regards to continuing to be able to see what one another is up to. Their break feels indefinitely, & it was a combative situation that was lacking balance, even now. I also feel they were needing to understand what they were doing in their relationship together, & things were dying down as a result. I'm also getting the sense that they were beginning to recognize the lack of stability & immaturity that seemed to cause disharmony between them, & I'm also seeing that monetary issues played a part in their break-up as well. It also feels them unfollowing each other was ego-driven as well. It seems to have been a lot of conflict that seemed to be bringing out toxicity in both of them; basically they need to separate physically & visually. I don't think they are on speaking terms either, since communication is coming up with what needs to be organized.

💏 Did Apryl ever cheat in Fizz when they were together❔

It feels like it was a situation where there was misinterpretation or disillusionment regarding what is & what isn't. It feels she was focused on asserting her truth, which led to a need to control the rumors of this. In her inner truth, that is coming up that there WAS an opportunity to cheat that she did not seize, with the same individual that I kept picking up on a regards to this allegation. With that said I'm going to have to say no, she didn't cheat on Fizz. I feel like this was a rumor that blew up & caused strife between her & Fizz but the exchange of this information is what needed to be organized. There already seemed to be some boundaries in place against the possibility to cheat, by way of her own rejection. I do feel like this has had a profound effect on their relationship, & I don't think Fizz was able to trust her the same after that.

[fatmatt450lbs]

You asked for it... I just caught a reflection of myself in the window at the mall. It always takes me by surprise when I realize that the human whale I am looking at is me. Its so surreal to imagine what I have become. Today is a special day. Its my partner’s birthday, special enough for me to sneak out of the house to the mall without him knowing. I had to call ahead for a Van as I no longer can ride in a conventional sedan. This trip took some special planning as everything is so much more time consuming and exhausting. Even as I slowly plod through the mall I know its worth it. For as hard as this is becoming for me…. Its hard for him also. But the one thing we share is our YING-YANG love of my ever increasing obesity. It started 4 years ago shortly after my 35th Birthday. I was Living the “LIFE.” I had everything. A perfect house, a perfect job, a perfect husband, good money, fast lifestyle, and was completely miserable. You see I used to be fat. Not enormous but fat. At 5’10 and 330lbs upon my 30th birthday I decided that it was time to make a change. I have always needed and craved attention, at 330lbs you are basically non-existent. Once in a while you get noticed but it is not often. I thought if I could get skinny, then FIT my life would change. Well it did, but not the way I’d hoped. I got Skinny, then Fit, (using drastic if not outright stupid) measures. I came out of the closet, got deep into the GAY CIRCUIT scene, had some fun but that was just it. I still hadn’t realized my “POTENTIAL” and was still craving that attention, not to mention real food. I was hungry. I knew what I was hungry for, but was so afraid to “give in” to who I was, who I am, and what I am becoming. I met my partner a while back as I was coming to terms with myself. He is a strong, intelligent, beautiful man. His body is the exact contrast of mine, Hard, Strong, Defined, Developed, MUSCULAR, and cut. The more he develops his body, the more enrapt I become. He knows the power he holds over me, Sometimes I think maybe I should slow this down but he enters the room and all of that doubt just seems to fade away. Along with the entire tray of fresh Lasagna, Last week I actually tried to take a real stand, tried to demand that we slow this down. He said “sure” with that arrogant yet SEXY smirk. He then just left for work. Left me lying in the bed, he knows it is impossible for me to get up on my own. He used this to let me know my place now. I rocked and struggled to try and raise myself, to do anything for this last stronghold but all I accomplished was to get both feet on the floor, but with no way to pull my body upright. I am sweating, gasping for breath and stuck. Now I realized why he’s always insisted on having the phone on the other side of the room instead of beside the bed. He knew this day would come. As I laid there, with nothing to do but think I realize, this is it. Its where I am going to end up, a living monument to gluttony, self indulgence, lack of control. An enormous blob of a human, unrecognizable, BURIED. Not long after 1:00pm he comes home. He stands over the bed, and just looks at me. He is aroused, the DARK passion in his eyes lets me know he sees my future the same way. The sex that day, that easily dark day closed the deal. Now most of my days are filled with lazing on the sofa or waddling to and from the bathrooms and Kitchen back to the sofa. Food is always easily in reach. I don’t have to exert much effort. There are snacks all over the house all the time. He knows what I can’t resist. He knows all the foods that make me fall. I usually am surprised when the 2lb bag of Peanut M&M’s are just gone. I don’t remember where they went or even that I ate them but I find myself at the end of the day surrounded by wrappers, cartons, cans and bottles. He always goes to the GYM before he brings home dinner. Then the real eating begins. At least 3 nights a week I eat until I pass out. The more I eat the more aroused he gets, the more aroused he gets, the more I stuff my face. He just stands there, Beautiful, perfect, a GOD. Its like I am eating all his sins and I can’t get enough of them. I can tell he is so turned on by my depravity, my dark obsession, my food. His arrogant control is hypnotic, hot, and what I want. Last time I was weighed, I was 640lbs. Amazing what 4 years of happiness can do to a man. My partner LOVES the attention, the stares, the laughs, the spectacle. People just stop and stare, the looks of shame and disgust turn us both on. The dichotomy of the 2 of us side by side only adds to the event. One the Ideal, one the fear of most anyone. A living example of what can happen to someone who gives into their weakness. I realize that this is one of my last trips to ANYWHERE alone. I am already over 2 hours late and I haven’t even set foot in the store. Its so much harder than I thought. I guess he knew. I was kidding myself. And to imagine, I used to run 10k races. Now I can’t even walk 10 steps without resting. Finally, I have been sitting on this bench for over 2 hours. I couldn’t do it. I can’t even make it back to the street. As I look at what has been reduced to, what I have done to myself, I can’t help but feel that I deserve my fate, my fat. He is shaking his head as he walks toward me. I had to break down and finally call him to come get me. No surprise, but I can tell he is pleased all the same. He just walks up, hugs me and helps me up. We take a whole lot of time to get out of the mall, all the while he is patting my back. Once we get to the Van, he helps me into the back and closes the door. I can feel the gravity of my belly and tits as we take the curves back home. All the while I keep seeing him looking at me in the rear view mirror. There is something different in his eyes… I am a little excited, and a little scared at the same time. Once we get home he helps me out of the car and heads into the house ahead of me. Finally I make the front door and open it to a BIG Surprise. He is standing there completely NUDE, Pumped and aggressive. He says as he pushes me down on the sofa… Your are mine from now own… By the end of the year you’ll be housebound and after that it really starts to get interesting. He continues “I’ve helped you become what you said you wanted to be, NOW you are going to become what I want you to be. You are going to become the pathetic, overindulged blob that you were MEANT to be.” Admit to yourself… the food? You can’t control it, and now you are dependant on me and you know what? I’ve just gotten started on you. Here pig,” At that point he pushes a cheesecake all over my face, starts stuffing it in my mouth, I am gagging and still he keeps pushing and pushing. You wanted to eat well then EAT. I’ve watched you bury yourself in food, in fat, in gluttony for the past four years, I have helped but I took it easy on you. Now that you are SO FUCKING fat you are helpless, you can’t even roll out of bed without my help YOU NEED ME I own you and … well guess what porky, NO MORE MISTER NICE GUY. Now eat pig…. Finish that fucking cake before I get back in here or there will be hell to pay. With that he gets up and starts walking into the kitchen. I am shaken, afraid, and I can’t believe that I have allowed this to happen. I look down at my cheesecake stained clothes, I try to get up and realize that this is going to happen, that I am gone, I have buried myself. I look up in time to see him walking back … oh shit.

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 3 Part 2

Did I skip a week ? Yes. Was it on purpose ? No. Will it happen again ? Maybe.

Sorry :s

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Monday January 21

He tried his best to stay calm. Why would he be mad ? It wasn't something important at all. And he had his cock in Amber's pussy right now. He couldn't be mad. Not before he came. Screw it. I'm mad. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey stood up, enraged.

"What are you doing ?" asked the cheerleader's captain. "We ain't finished yet. You promised me ten orgasm in one go, I got only nine."

"It was before you ruined everything." he replied. "Stupid bitch."

"Don't be vulgar. It makes me hornier."

This fuckin' little scumbag. She dares. He decided to ignore her. He put his briefs and his pants.

"C'mon Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey." she begged with a sweet, touching tone. "I'm sorry if it piss you off, but it's done now."

"You gave to this shitty Theophile your bmw and three tickets for the incoming big musical festival ! I mean, why the fuck ?"

She lowered her eyes. I don't like this. At all.

"Some people think you might be... out of touch with the prey. Look, we all know it had always been easy for you to hunt. And maybe, just maybe you got a bit overconfident and lost some skills."

The Dean's grandson hesitated. Should he strangle her or just beat the shit out of her ? He slowly put his shirt. This asshole, after all the things he did for her.

"There are bets among the hunters." she confessed, a bit scared by his attitude. "Most of us think Theo will win this. But hey, you're still the best in bed. Girls, boys, trans, you're our favorite when it comes to sex."

"You gambled against me." he realised. "That's why you helped Theo. And that's why you're distracting me here. You little dirty toad. I'm not a gigolo you can call when you want."

"To my opinion ? You should withdraw and just enjoy your already well developped sex life. Your pathetic strategy is working too slowly. Did you kiss him once already ? Theo will have him in bed wednesday night, whatever you try."

It was enough. All those stupids jerks thought he wasn't able to win the hunt ? Let's have some fun.

"Who's organizing these bets ?" he asked.

"Obviously Steve. Who else ?"

He left without a response.

When he arrived at the music club, it was running late but they were still playing some dumbshit music. Most of them were off-key, and it sounded horrible. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey waited outside until Steve noticed him. The conductor decided to make a break, and came closer.

"You want something ?"

"Hell yeah. I'm here to make a bet."

"A what ?"

"Don't make yourself dumber than you already are porker. Listen carefully jackass. I'm betting 1000$ that Theophile will just fail like the contemptible shit he is, and I'll catch the prey. Do you understand ?"

Steve blinked, shocked. Stupid pitiful bonehead. You wanted to bet, we're betting.

"Okay..." he eventually whispered. "But I can't tell you who already gambled and..."

"Don't bother cretin. I know them by heart. Theo himself, you of course, Amber, Sam from the Beta Omicron, and the professor Linda Webers, all against me. Archie gambled for me. Am I right ?"

The dumbass's eyes spoke for him. All the greedier and most sutpid hunters, except Archie. The clevers didn't gambled yet. They're too cautious. He was glad to know Summer did nothing yet. The girl might be useful soon to get rid of those hyenas.

Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey then headed straight to his apartment. At the moment, Theo probably had already invited Liam for the festival. And my baboon of a boyfriend said yes, for sure. But what about the third ticket ? Not for Laura, it wouldn't make sense... It's for Nicolas. The fatty roommate. Oh man, this greedy Theo, he wants both of them. The blond lad looked at his phone. Zack had called him twice this evening. He would talk to him later. First, the business. He dialled Nancy number and waited.

"Geek to best dick in the world, what's the matter ?" she answered almost immediately.

She had her own way to communicate. I like it anyway. My cock is one of my favourite subject.

"I need a ticket for the festival of wednesday. I know the sales are off but can you find one ?"

"Of course sir. Send dick pick or butt pick and you'll be fulfilled."

He quickly and gladly sent both. He was still a bit hard from Amber's session, Nancy would like it.

"Nice." she appreciated. "I'm adding those to my collection asap. Damn, now my ceiling is almost covered like my walls. I have too many screen of your body dude."

I wonder what would happen if someone entered her room. It wasn't his problem anyway.

"Okay... I found someone selling his ticket for 250$." she announced after a moment. "Let me see if I can do better. By the way, it seems your ass is getting rounder again."

"Yeah, I overindulged in pastries lately. Long story."

It wasn't much, but Nancy was good to notice small detail.

"Oh, there we are. A moron who wants a revenge against his girlfriend and... whatever, we don't care about the story. Ticket is bought sir. You owe me 100$, but you know how I am, you can pay in kind."

"So nice of you milady. Send the ticket and let's have some fun."

Liam Wednesday January 23

His shrink Ms. Hang and him were on their third session. They hadn't talked much during the previous one. Mostly because he wasn't inclined to. He came only because he liked the couch. And I'll have to go soon, because Nick, Theo and me are going at the festival. He intented to protect his friend, because he knew the ogre was up to something bad.

"Tell me Liam." spoke eventually Ms. Hang. "What are your favorites hobbies ?"

Sleep. Going to the gym. Sleep again. Talk with the unicorns. He didn't answer. (Now that he thought about it, there was another thing he liked lately : make blowout with Dami's bakes). (His boyfriend, even if they never really formalized the thing, was a damn good baker, and cook in general). (They had only three more date after the movie, and each time, Liam ended up stuffed like a turkey).

"You know silent is an answer ?" asked Ms. Hang. "It help me to understand you. And there is a piece of advice I can give you."

"What ?"

"You should act more like your father."

Liam feigned to sleep. I didn't hear, nanana. It was the worst advice he ever heard.

"I don't mean to do the bad things he did." she insisted. "But you sure could use some of his confidence. He's a successful millionaire, known and respected. And you are the complete opposite, a shy, dreamy young adult who flee from his problems. You can learn some stuff from him."

"It's not a good idea." he contradicted. "And I'm sorry, but I need to go."

"Of course. The session is over anyway. But think about it Liam."

He went back at his apartment as fast as possible. And he tried to not think about it at all. Be like his father ? Learn from him ? I'm pretty convinced he's with the forces of evil. I think he and the witch made an alliance to fight us. (By us, Liam meant mainly the unicorns who lived under his bed). Anyway, he changed for more causual clothes, sweatpants and pullover, and then joined Nick.

"I've a bad feeling about this." confessed this one. "I mean, why Theo invited both of us to a music festival ? Where's the catch ?"

Make you eat your content. Kidnap you. Eat you. The ogre probably planned this. But Liam would protect his friend.

"I don't know why I'm asking you. I'm guessing you didn't even realised you put your pullover backwards..."

Theo picked them up in a nice car, and they arrived five minute later. The festival took place in a vast shed and all around. Quickly, they got lost in the crowd. The junior led them towards the center, and bought them food. (Obviously he did). (Greasy, rich food). And they started to dance, and listen to some bands. Nothing seemed to happen, and Liam started to feel reassured. After all, maybe Theo was just nice ? At some point, Nick whispered to his roommate :

"You know, I'm supposed to lose weight but fuck, if Theo keep feeding me like this, I'm gonna burst."

Liam himself had to admit, he had eaten a lot too. (But far less than he could handle).

"Maybe we should go somewhere less noisy to rest a bit." suggested the chestnut lad.

He expected to put some distance between them and the ogre. If we have to run, bloated like we are, it'll be fun to watch. (He pictured to stuffed turkeys running, and it made him laugh). Anyway, they found themselves next to the toilet area.

"Good call buddy." congratulated Nick. "I'll be back."

He entered in one cabin. Liam waited a bit, looking at the crowd. There were spotlight of several colors. People were dancing with ardor. He glanced at what looked like fairies and human-butterfly. (It was a real thing).

"Baboon !"

The lad turned his head. He glimpsed Dami coming closer.

"Dude, I'm calling you for almost ten minutes now." he said once here. "Are you deaf ?"

"Maybe." conceded Liam. "Sometimes I become blind and I can't see. Sometimes I can't hear. I don't know why."

(In truth, it probably was because he just went out of touch with the real world). (Literally in fact).

Dami tried to say something, but suddenly, a girl grabbed him and kissed him with passion. She shouted :

"Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, where have you been ?!"

And then she kissed him again. For a long, very long time. Liam watched them, a bit surprised. He didn't know how to react properly. She is... Dami tried to do something. His eyes were burning with a mix of anger and surprise.

"Let's finish what we started." continued the girl.

She tried to pull off the boy's pants, apparently ready to do... Liam couldn't stand it. He just ran. Even his slow brain could understand what it meant.

Barbara Thursday January 24

She closed a book with a sigh of relief. Military stuff could be so scary sometimes. But also very instructive. The conquest of power wasn't an easy path, but Barbara was confident. The queen of this college, this Summer, she wouldn't be a problem. Then, she would've to get rid of this abusive king, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. Not easy, but one thing after another.

"Can you give me the plate ?" asked Jessy. "I'm still hungry."

Yeah, of course she was. Back in highschool, Barbara had saw her grade fall into decadence. Several people became greedy fatties. Even now, she was still wondering if it was Raphaël's doing ? Did he have manipulated people in order to make all his rivals become worthless ? You can't be at the top when you're too fat. People judge you only by your look. A bit of chub was the sign of a weathly life, but too much was just a proof you ain't able to control yourself. If you're not the master of your body and your mind, you can't be the master of the other. Jessy just let herself go for two years now. She wasn't in the race anymore.

"So... are you seriously gonna meet the football team captain today ?" asked Jessy. "When did you became so important ?"

"Well, you know, it just happenned."

"And what about Colton ? You said you would arrange a date between us."

I said it, right. She had planned to find a cover for her since the very beginning of their relationship. When she had met Colton in 12th grade, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Unlike Raphaël, who she never truly understood, he was a simple-minded lad. Since then, she had been searching someone to replace her when the time would come. Because she didn't need him under her feet, and neither his sister, Leila.

"I'll go see him." she assured. "Don't worry, he'll like you."

"I know, everybody likes me."

In your dreams maybe. Barbara just smiled and then left. She had an important appointment after all.

She met Oliver Thompson, the football team's captain, in the library C. He was a man of culture as well as a athlete. He was famous in the university and the town, because his team had managed to go the the national each year since he was captain. That was why Barbara needed him in her side.

"Hi." she greeted and sat in front of him. "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

The lad was tall (187 cm or 6'2") and corpulent. A mix of fat and muscle very imposing. She honestly looked like a tiny little girl in comparison. I'm 151 cm (4'11") and weight around 44kg (97 pounds). Of course I can't impress people with my stature.

"You probably know that I'll be the next head of the student union." she smiled. "I'm gonna make some important change, and first of all, I want to support our most important clubs."

It was the weird thing about this college. Fraternities and sororities weren't as powerful as she thought. Many student didn't even joined them. But activities's clubs were the center of the power. If I control them, I control the university.

"It's nice." admitted Oliver. "Summer's giving us a considerable budget already, but more is always welcome. But sorry, I'm not sure you'll have the real power to do it, even as the head of the student."

"I know what you mean. It depend of the hunters right ?"

The hunters. The women and men who chased for power and sex. As far as I know, they rule the university. Summer is one of them. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey is one of them. I'm one of them.

"Exactly. Trust me, we all know the next general assembly is coming soon for the budget of the second semester. We all want our slice of the cake. But it's the community who prevails. The better hunter you are, the better are you chances."

"Even for me ?"

"Even for you. Maybe you think you'll be head of the student, but you'll have zero power if the community is with Summer. She's good ya know ? As long as the hunters respect her more than you, she still have the power."

Make sense. Barbara thanked the football player, and left, her head full of thought.

The petite blonde then attempted to her lessons. And this evening, she headed towards the pool. She had no interest at all for swimmers. They were only a few and in great majority useless. Especially this bastard, Liam. She hated him with her body and soul. To be honest, she only knew the story from Jessy, but it was enough. The chestnut brown lad had always been a bit weird. It wasn't surprising that he had tried to kill someone eventually. Anyway, she was here for Colton. Her ex-boyfriend had joined the swimming club when she had left him. A bit pathetic to my opinion, but whatever. She glanced him. Sadly, he was with this damn Liam. For a moment, she looked them do lenghts. They were both good. Colton was a bit shorter and thinner. More athletic. Liam was thicker, with a flat but slightly soft stomach. He had quite an ass, she noticed. What am I doing ? I'm not here to covet this dumb guy. Eventually, she decided to come closer.

"Colton." she hailed. "Can we talk ?"

The dark-haired lad glanced at her with a strange look. Next to him, Liam closed his eyes, maybe in order to disappear. But I can see you idiot.

"I won't be long." she assured. "I just want to introduce you to a friend of mine. I think you'll like her, and it could be good for you to be distracted. Why not next week ? I'm only worried for you, of course."

"Okay, I'm fine with it but only if I can bring a friend. Nick for example ?"

"Whoever you wants except Liam."

This latter pouted. Jessy doesn't need to see you. In fact, she might try to kill you if you two meet.

To be continued

Barbara’s pov help us to discover more about both Liam’s past and the hunter community... Where a war is starting. Will Theo surpass Dami ? Or maybe Liam will not fall for either of them. Right now, is main goal is to protect his fattened roommate anyway.

[getting-rid-of-anniex]

An (Un)Healthy Check up

This is me, probably about 6 / 7 years old...?...(looks like I’m busy burying a vampire I’ve just staked?)...what I would give to let that little girl know that she really is enough, and to never let the world get her down so much so that she questions herself.

Fast forward 31 years and I’m now on a quest to try and get back to being as much like that carefree child. The most stressful thing I had to think about then, was whether I would get some sweets at the weekend and if Barbie and Ken would like the salon I’d made for them out of toilet rolls and a load of old boxes.

The unfortunate thing about ‘LIFE’ is that - ‘LIFE HAPPENS’(!) and the person you become is built up of many moments and experiences. In my case, my moments and experiences ended up helping to construct someone lacking confidence and overflowing with anxiety. I started dieting from about the age of 15 (and since then the weight only went up!) Friendships became toxic and I ended up having to build myself a new peer group. I developed a pattern of using food and drink to both celebrate and commiserate. I overindulged on happy days, sad days, sunny days, rainy days; to plaster over a stressful situation, and gee myself up when I needed some dutch courage. My health took a battering, developing asthma, bad knees (at one point the doctor did say I had arthritis...later on rescinding this?!?), IBS and depression. I’ve gone through stages of going totally bonkers with exercise, from running every day, to not at all and just lying on the sofa eating crisps. I tried so many times to follow weight loss programs - if only I’d saved that money instead. After repeatedly falling off the wagon I’d restart another program with so much excitement, only for the hard work to start and the realisation that this wouldn’t be a walk in the park, to hit. I’d throw in the towel and unhappily stuff my face (self sabotage anyone?) My stomach was in a constant mess resulting in time off work (and increased time in the loo!). I tried gluten free, but again after a month or two of symptoms easing and feeling good I’d then decide it wasn’t as bad as originally thought and devour everything in sight, only to go shooting right back to the beginning. As well as feeling like crap because my stomach was in agony, I’d also be mentally berating myself for not being able to stick to anything AGAIN. Why didn’t I have the ability to stick to anything? Especially when all the things I was doing, I was doing in the hope of helping myself?

Appointment no.1

After realising finally just how much I was hurting myself, and how much I was struggling, and after crying on the shoulders of some very amazing friends and family (I really hope you guys know who you are) I decided to see the doctor. To help with my IBS, anxiety and stress (which was a bowlful of Catch-22 IBS related loveliness!!!) I was prescribed anti depressants. Whilst these helped initially, they didn’t touch my inner demons. Self destructive patterns were repeated and the only thing I learnt, was how better to hide things from others.

This must stop!

Back in 2018 my body finally had had enough. After feeling like utter shite for months on end, monitoring over the course of a few weeks how my heart would start racing (just sitting at my desk) and having increasing episodes of hot flushes, I knew I needed to get in contact with the doctor. This time I really wanted to do something...and I was scared. The ball got moving though earlier  than I’d planned.

Sitting at work my heart suddenly started to race. (There were no harsh words/emails, up-coming meetings/reviews, and I hadn’t eaten a heavy or spicy meal, there wasn’t anything in fact that could explain why this was happening). It felt as though I was having a panic attack (although never having had one, I couldn’t say for sure?). Luckily I was able to get an appointment with the doctor (another one) later that same day. I feel forever grateful to have been given an appointment with this particular doctor. For the first time ever I felt listened to, rather than just hurried along with the explanation for everything being the bog (pun intended) standard ‘gluten intolerance’. This went so much deeper. I was booked in for blood tests (and stool samples - yuck!)  to check for any intolerances (also checking for Crohn’s and Celiac disease)/vitamin deficiencies, given leaflets on the FODMAP diet (although I do feel like this isn’t the full answer for my stomach issues, it definitely helped to fully monitor what foods were triggering my IBS symptoms). We also had a bloody good talk. I didn’t feel like I was just another foot through the door and that the clock was being watched; I really could have hugged my Doc. I left feeling so positive (for most probably the first time in years). Even if we couldn’t rule everything out straight away (there would be a lot of trial and error in the up-coming months), it felt as though someone was on my side and wanted to help. Someone had finally just sat and listened (I’m not including friends and family in that comment - believe me, they definitely have done more than their share of hand holding and listening. This just meant so much, having someone from the health profession listen rather than assume.)

Blood test results

Well the results came in: B12 deficient and lacking folic acid. (I did have to have a further round of blood tests to rule out Pernicious Anemia, but this came back negative.) I also had to provide a ‘sample’, but the only embarrassing part about this was the idiot monkey behind the reception desk deciding that she needed to shout out across the waiting room that my little tube contained pooh (ground please swallow me up!!!)

Diet

B12 and folic acid were tackled with supplement vitamins and a controlled diet (at the time I was going through the FODMAP diet - which was so hard to navigate. So in the mean time I’ve knocked that on the head, but have tried to limit certain foods and just be more mindful about what I am putting into my body - for example I don’t eat apples as they really don’t like my stomach, I have to be careful how much beetroot/coffee/chickpeas, nuts and chocolate I have and I do try to limit bread/pasta. I was put on a list to speak to a dietician....I’m still waiting to see them!)

I have also rejoined WW online (but if being truthful, I’m still struggling with this. It’s still that bit too easy for me to not track all foods). It’s definitely a work in progress. The recipes are fantastic - I just need to be more honest with it if it’s going to work. One positive with this app though is that it has helped learning to track my weight only once a week (I used to have a day ritual of weighing myself).

I’ve cut right back on alcohol (to be another post soon, as this is a whole other story in itself). I’m already feeling the benefits, and some of them in unexpected ways - my skin has never felt/looked clearer (and from someone who is obsessed with studying the wrinkles on her forehead, this has been a fantastic bonus).

Fitness

I’ve downloaded some fitness apps to try and increase the amount of exercise I do (sitting at a desk for 8 hours a day does not help with general fitness!)

ZR5K: I’m currently doing a 5K training app (learning to run whilst escaping from Zombies - I’ve not used this app when it’s dark, I think it would unnerve me too much).

Race at your pace*: I’ve signed up for ‘Race at your pace’ (it was only £10 (medal only option)...and I get a medal at the end - as long as I complete my target of 25 miles run through out January). This has been a real motivator - I love the idea of getting a medal at the end of the month. This has also been mega easy to implement - I just track at the same time as escaping Zombies! *£10 for a medal - more if you want a Race at your pace top. **mile target is set by yourself and you can complete it by either running/walking or swimming for that particular month. MapMyRun: I currently use this as well, to track where I’m going and how long it’s taking me. It’s been a brilliant tool for monitoring average pace, and I’m hoping as the months role by to see this improving. Yoga: I’m also starting to implement some yoga into my daily routine too. I find that as well as it helping to stretch and loosen my muscles after a run (very slow shuffle), it also helps me to unwind and switch off.

Mindfulness

Breathe: I have downloaded a relaxation and meditation app. As with all the apps I’m currently using, I’ve gone for the free option so with this particular one, I don’t get the longer/more specific meditations, but there are still a great range to select from. They have been really helpful unwinding before bed. I just need to get into a better routine of using this daily.

Supportive networks

The hubby, friends and family have all been invaluable to me getting to where I am now. My husband is an amazing man (also a pain in the arse, but hey - I’ll forgive him that) and I absolutely cherish all he does in order to help me on my journey to being a better, happier human being! I cannot stress enough, how you need people around you who (may not have the answers but) will listen - without judgement. I feel so incredibly lucky to have the people around me who I know I can talk to, cry on and ask opinions of. I’ve been incredibly honest with my boss. Luckily he is someone who I know I can talk to and he’s been very understanding. After worrying about time off work due to sickness (stress/IBS/depression issues etc) I opened up completely about everything - food, health (mental and physical)....and I’ve even asked if I can set my health goals as part of my personal development target at work. (Being proactive about helping myself can surely only have a positive impact on my work/life balance. A happier/healthier worker will have a better attitude at work and (I’m hoping) a more productive output???)

Other ‘things’

I’ve also tried to absorb anything and everything that is supportive, positive that will help shore up my personal goals on my journey to self improvement.

I’ve downloaded healthy living podcasts, listened to audio books on being alcohol free and been reading ‘self help’ books - such as ‘The Happiness Equation’.

So this is me - minus the fringe and wondering if I should have curled my hair (see, I’m still a stress head). I’m not 100% healthy or happy but I’m trying my hardest to get there. I’ve got a lot of things to figure out but this time I’m willing to try. I may not be a little six year old happily sitting on the beach, but I’m determined to approach life with that same open and curious mindset...and vampires beware, I’ll still stake and bury you, no questions asked if you try to bite!

______________________________________

That’s all for now folks.

Along the way Annie X came on the scene. I’ll explain my relationship with her in the next ‘session’.

Thanks, be kind to each other and I’ll see you next time R (and Annie X) x