#i know it's because exercise was a big part of my ed and now i ser my body changing and i know i can make it change a lot more

[erraticroses]

...........

[gloryfore]

Hello! I’m so glad you’re doing well and are happy!!!! I hope you and bean have a wonderful year! I was wondering if you don’t mind speaking about it obviously, how you’re managing to gain weight, my goal this year is to workout to build muscle but I’ve been “skinny” my whole life (+ had a ed) and do just for whatever reason struggle to put on and keep weight. I’m not going to lie I have always been quite embarrassed of how skinny I am because I don’t look my age and I don’t look fit? If that makes sense, anyways don’t feel like you need to reply to this or anything but thanks anyway!! 🫶

Hello to you too!! Thank you so much, it’s off to a great start already and I’m feeling very positive about the rest of the year! 💗

I completely understand what you mean! I’ve felt the same way, I have struggled with my weight my whole life but not as much as I have over the last 5 years honestly, stress and other things going on in my life played a huge part in my weight loss, I’m not big now but I’m certainly in a much better place than I was and very close to my current goal weight 💪🏻

I honestly just started out small, I had small meals 3 times a day (stuff like pre-made sandwiches, microwave meals etc, stuff I didn’t have to think about or put any effort into) and I was having high calorie shakes to try and get my appetite back and get my body used to having more than a bowl of cereal every other day 😅 Then I just increased the amount of food I was eating, started cooking more (nothing fancy, just pasta mainly) Now I have breakfast, something for lunch and i try to have a big dinner with lots of snacks before bed!!

I have also slowed down massively! I was exercising a lot, walking A LOT which isn’t great when you’re not eating enough to cover how many calories you’re burning! So try and chill out and snack more!

Just be consistent and don’t get disheartened when you don’t see results straight away, I know how easy it is just think oh fuck it it’s not working and slip back into old eating habits but you have to push through it!!

Good luck lovely and I’m always a message away if you wanna chat 💗

[seinfieldyaoi]

Having a good social life would alleviate my sadness and my exhaustion and the fact that I often see no purpose in living or waking up or going on social media or drawing or doing pretty much anything. Having close friends that I can have genuine conversations with daily would help me immensely. Too bad it'll never happen because for some reason I am doing something wrong by existing and nobody wants to interact with me because of it, I'm doing something wrong by trying to talk to people, I'm doing something wrong by initiating conversation and asking people questions and trying to make them feel welcome in my presence, enough to crave interaction with me, talking or hanging out or just being around one another for elongated periods of time. I follow almost all of the advice I am given on how to make friends: make it all about them, relate to them, initiate the interaction, be happy and smile, listen to every word they say. But it still disgusts them? The advice that they gave me and give to others disgusts them when I put it into action? People tell me to just talk to people and that it's not that hard-it is that hard for me. The funny part is that I don't even know why it's hard. I don't try to make it hard. I dont not try to talk to people. Thats not the issue. Whenever I try to talk to someone, they get uncomfortable around me instantaneously, even when I put on a smile and a happy voice, make jokes and make the conversation about them and their life, be empathetic with them. I dont know how else to do it. Nobody taught me. I was supposed to be naturally able to make friends, but now that I know that I can't, I know this world isn't built for me. I can't even make friendships with the people who are bad at making friends, too. It's something in my demeanor, in the questions I ask or the way I talk, that makes people not want to be around me. The worst part is that I'm the only one who can't see it. Anyone who watches me talk about how I lack friends and social enrichment doesn't think it goes that deep. They think it's a fatuous complaint about something that isn't true and that I will get over, that really isnt that big of a deal. It goes deeper than I can express. It pummels through my mind and makes it a mental Mariana Trench. The lack of socialization that I exhibit is the sole reason for why I crave sleep every second of the day, why I swim in and out of fits asking myself what the point of my entire life is, why life has become so banal and overcasted for me. It is the golden glow of perfection that I cannot touch. It is the worldly temptation I cannot sink my teeth into; its skin is too tough. And I'll rant about this all day, I can shout at the top of my lungs till the sun rises and falls and the day completes full cycle, but at the end of my bloodcurdling announcements life will go on the way it was. People will talk to the people they like, the people they love, they just won't be me. People will read my lengthy, dolorous monologues about how I'm so lonely and how I'm spiraling and losing my sense of self because of it, but they'll move on almost immediately, as soon as another attention grabber seizes them and I am left to be nothing but words they read on a screen hours or days or weeks ago, that they wouldn't recall unless someone asked them about it. And I'll continue on with my life. I will continue living. I will continue waking up, writing, learning Spanish, scrolling aimlessly, doing drivers ed, driving around town on the same backroads, doing the dishes, posture exercises, drawing, listening to music and fantasizing about a life out of reach, the universe's taunt sent through my own neurons; I'll continue living with this sagging, moldy tumor puckering at the back of my brain, uncurable by even the most intricate and renowned of treatments. It will continue to haunt me and bleed out through the form of text on a screen on an app that will never be thoroughly acknowledged. I will continue living with everything in sync save my socialization habits. I have no other choice.

[lyssophobic1pls]

Accidentally fasted for two days bitches🖕🏾🖕🏾🖕🏾 I forgot how much being in a relationship stresses me out 😭 anyway, I really do appreciate my relationship with food more these days. No binges, no endless cravings, no eating everything in site even when I’m not hungry. I literally have intuitive eating down! My connection to food is not as related to my emotions anymore!!!!! I eat when I’m hungry but the portions are smaller! my stomach is smaller! my body is getting smaller! One major thing I’ve had to learn is to quit eating when I’m full. I’m used to finishing the whole plate even when I was full because I was afraid of waste and now I’ve also realized my eyes are way to big for my stomach. I’m not the same person who 7 months ago could binge 4 birria tacos and soup or a pint of rice and chicken from Leeann Chin alone. I’m learning the new portions for my new body. When I come home with food from work it spoils because I can’t finish those whole meals in a day. I don’t even recognize myself when I’ve realized how little I’ve eaten and I put the food away for later. Biggest thing I need to work on is exercise. I’m a naturally lazy person so this is nothing new😂. I do get my 10,000 steps in everyday tho. But I want to be more active, going for walks, swimming more, playing sports, hanging out with friends not only for my goal body but because my body has protected me from so much it deserves to be taken care of and used to the best of its abilities. My body deserves to do what it is capable of! I really like who I’m becoming. And it’s been a long journey. Sometimes I feel like I’ve pressured myself into having an eating disorder because I knew there was something wrong with me but I could never point it out. Part of it was my weight but I know now my weight was just a consequence of my mental state. I would spend hours a day ruminating about my next meal or my ideal body. Those were the only things that took up space in me and to fix that I thought I needed the most extreme form of control over myself. To deprecate myself of nutrients and fuel in order to punish my mental state. The most life changing quote I’ve hear this past year was that you can’t hate yourself into someone you love, so why would I punish this girl who was already hurting?

This isn’t a recovery page for anyone, not even for me. All I want to say is that my journey has been long and I’m grateful for it. I do still have tendencies of identifying everything I believe is wrong with my body or dreaming of carving my ideal shape, but I’ve learned deep underneath that is just a girl that wants to be loved and yearned for. And you don’t have to do that in a healthy way it’s taken me 3 years to figure all of this out and I still know nothing. But first and foremost I am addressing my motives and what lies underneath and after my body reflects my growth. Low key I still love the toxic mess of this community tho😂 don’t shame me. But I’m growing and I’m reaching goals, though in more time than I like, in a healthier safer manner.♥️♥️♥️

[everydayofmystruggle]

5th March 2023

Thought i'd actually start documenting everything related to my food habits. I have some stuff I have written since it started. Maybe one day i'll add them here. Maybe not.

My relationship with eating and food is currently at the worst it has ever been. Writing it all out is a kind of therapy for me. Maybe it will actually help me, or even someone else someday. I do hope so.

I'm such a private person, maybe too much so sometimes. The thought of anyone finding out that I am struggling so much is my worse fear. I don't really know why I'm so emotionally inept, and so fear letting anyone see my feelings. That's a whole other therapy topic for another day. Now onto my eating.

I don't like the phrase 'Eating Disorder'; I can't imagine anybody does. But if I'm being totally honest with myself, in the past month, my poor relationship with food has definitely developed into one. It seems to be a mixture of many; either that or I just haven't settled into one or another yet.

For as long as I can remember, i've wanted to lose weight. Honestly, years. At least a decade, maybe longer. I've always been average- never truly overweight, but big enough to never be considered thin, or to be comfortable in my own skin. I've always had flab and fat, body parts i've wanted to change. I've gone through many diets through the years- the classic cutting foods, restricting, exercising lots etc. They've never really worked. And by this I mean I have never stuck to any of them long enough to notice a difference.

This is where my relationship with food comes in- I love it. Or, well, I did. I feel that because I have always enjoyed food, my periods of dieting/ restricting just crash and burn with a binge when I realise I can't resist for long. I don't think I ever had BED per se, but it definitely seemed like an abnormal, not so good way of eating.

This cycle has gone on for years- with myself never really being able to resist a binge, never strong enough to not give in to urges or cravings.

In the past, I had thought about all this, but not really enough. I have always been aware of EDs- I'm aware that the type of person I am means I research anything and everything. Bulimia for example, I had considered, if that's the best way to phrase it. I'm pretty sure there were a couple of times in the past I had given a half-hearted attempt to purge, but never bothered to actually do it.

Until last year, I had almost a phobia of throwing up.I hated it. Even the thought of it gave me such anxiety. Hah. To think where I am at now compared to even a year ago is insane.

So, past attempts at puring after a binge were always half-assed as I could never actually bring myself to throw up, and just felt gross. This all changed this year while I was away abroad. I can't pinpoint exactly when or how it happened, but something in me changed.

I spent a chunk of time travelling abroad, and I absolutely loved it and want to go back. I spent Christmas and the New Year with new friends, and was eating without thinking about any of it. We were eating big full meals, I was going out my way to eat ice cream, or extra slices of pizza for lunch. Just generally having a good time and enjoying my food. Sometime after that it must have clicked that I needed to lose a bit of weight, and should probably start watching what I was eating a bit more. I think a big part of it was knowing a friend from home was meeting me out there in a few weeks, and I didn't want to be fat with her.

I remember consciously chosing to not get ice cream a couple times, and trying to not each big lunches. As soon as I was back to travelling alone again, I started to eat less. I'd eat cup-a-soups, Granny Smith Apples, Ritz Crackers and cheese slices. These became my staple travelling foods. After eating like this for just a couple of weeks, I noticed that I was actually losing a bit of weight. This gave me a massive confidence boost, as well as motivation to keep going.

I stayed eating this way up until I met up with my friend, and we spent three days on an island with all our meals prepared for us. Already here after just a few weeks, I was worrying about eating. I remember thinking about the food situation the whole time.

Afterwards, I was planning to get straight back to my cup-a-soup diet. The turning point came when I spent one night at a hotel airport before travelling to another area. I had no time to shop for food and so ordered a Pizza Hut. I think even when ordering I was already starting to consider trying to purge afterwards, but wasn't 100% convinced i'd be able to. But after eating it all- a pizza and bolognese pasta bake, and feeling the post-binge cringe, I said to myself I would sit by that toilet for as long as it took to get it back up. And that was exactly what I did. It was gruelling; it took absolutely ages, it made me sweat, cry and cough a ridiculous amount. But it was the first time i had ever been able to make myself throw up, and it felt like an acheivement.

It was like a switch had been flicked. A new possibilty had been unlocked. I now knew I had the ability to get rid of a load of food after eating. Now, I'm not foolish, not completely anyway. I knew this was a dangerous game to play, and knew I should set some ground rules to myself there and then. I told myself this was to be a last resort option, for when eating a lot was unavoidable. But even while thinking this, I was also mentally planning how I could practice and get faster and quieter. I was treating purging like a new skill to be improved upon.

It's silly. I know how dangerous making yourself throw up is, both short and long-term. But instead of trying to stop, I found myself googling mitigation methods. How to lessen tooth damage from stomach acid, and what foods are the easiest to get back up. Yikes.

Anyway. After that first night, I went back to my Ritz and cup-a-soup diet again for the next few weeks. The next time I purged again was completely intentional. I was craving a McDonald's burger, and so rationalised in my head that I could eat it then throw it back up. It would satisfy my craving, and serve as practice for my technique. So i did just that, munching on some extra chocolate for good measure.

I think the first time I really reflected on my new view of food was on my flight home again. I was given two full on meals, and felt like I had to eat them, so I did. Then tried a few times to purge it up in the plane toilets. I think I got some up, but the small space and the anxiety of someone hearing got the bette of me and I gave up. Looking back, that was a low point. Squatting in the toilet of a plane, trying desperately to vomit up cauliflower soup while hoping no one was outsidee the door and could hear me.

Since properly being back home, it's gone from bad to worse. The first few times I purged again was after unavoidable eating- meeting friends for dinner a couple of times etc.

I have still been restricting, but in my own home with access to food it's easy to get tempted. I think while I was away and busy all the time, I was more distracted from eating. I want to get back in that frame of mind, where food and eating doesn't take up so many of my thoughts.

This past week has been particularly bad. From Saturday to Friday, I purged every single day. It started when a friend stayed at mine Saturday night, and we ate out lots. Being re-introduced to food like that again has messed me up. I'm now having cravings again and I hate it. I hate wanting food.

I threw up in a Nando's toilet one evening, and then later in Krispy Kreme. I'm not even ashamed. The whole time while eating the meal, I was planning my trip to go purge. I was intentionally drinking lots of water while eating. The same goes for the following day when we ordered food to the house.

As for the rest of the week, I can't even remember why I purged most of the days. I think first when I snacked a little too much of an evening. One of the days I was craving pizza, so ordered Pizza Hut with the intention of purging after. This sort of stuff is what makes me wonder if i'm more bulimic or anorexic. I guess it doesn't really matter.

When the pizza arrived, I decided to try chewing and spitting the food, and then purging the little amount I did eat. I can't lie, C/S did satisfy my craving nicely. It's just hard to say how much food I actually took in from it. I have managed to overcome a few cravings since then, to which I am quite proud, as I was hungover and could have easily given in and ordered food.

Oh, after a night out on Friday, the first thing I did when I got in to my hotel room was try to throw up as much as I could. It's mad that even when I was that drunk, it was still at the front of my mind.

Today I threw up again. For stupid reasons. All I had eaten was soup and some side bits, but I wanted a Belvita, and somewhere in my head I could only justify it by purging first. I'm going to try and stop doing it this frequently, beacasue it really will be a one-way ticket to every nasty side effect. I just need to work on my cravings and binges. Maybe I need to rid my house of any foods like that. I dunno.

My number one fear is definitely anyone finding out about any of this. I am forever lying about eating or what I have eaten. I laugh at jokes about eating disorders as if there's no way I have one. I am a good liar, am good at hiding things, so I don't doubt that I will successfully hide this from people.

I guess i'll keep writing this all down for as long as necessary. Currently, I have no intention of gaining a normal eating habit. Maybe it's bad, but I don't really care. I'm losing weight and I love it. I weigh around 63kg at the moment. I can see and feel where I am starting to look slimmer and I love it. This is why I don't really try to stop, and why everything revolves around eating less. I do want to not purge as much as I know how bad it is. I'd rather focus on restricting than bingeing or purging.

I like to think I have some control, but it's been a month and I already feel it slipping. Maybe writing this down is the first step to reclaiming some.

I like to think that one day, I will be happy both happy with my body and not focused on food/ eating so much. I hope the time comes, beacause as much as I am focusing on this to lose weight and lool the way I want, it is exhausting. It's all- consuming, and a constant battle. It's a battle I am happy to be in right now, but I hope to not always be in it.

<3

[annebelle93]

Obey me boys react to an MC with a Th.D

You just finished your Th.D (Theology and religious studies Doctorate), younger of the class and now you’ve been struggling a bit to decide on what to write. Lucky you, you wake up in devildom, surrounded by all of the figures you’ve been reading about for the last years.

Lucifer

Is a bit impressed at first. You’re so young and already speak Latin? Maybe this exchange won’t be a total waste of time

Then he is annoyed

You just ask SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

“MC, I swear to Diavolo, if you ask me one more time to teach you Sumeric I’ll lock you in your room!”

After you pester him over and over again with questions, he secretly asks Barbatos to find him a copy of your thesis

It’s about him. 300 pages of him.

The man is intrigued.

“Did you really spent three years writing about me?”

“Yeah, man” you shrug “the history f***ed you up. I always thought you were a much more complex character then described in the Bible”

He will teach you Sumeric now. And ancient Latin. And whatever dead language you ask him.

Honestly, he will marry you if you ask him nicely enough

Mammon

He doesn’t like you very much at first

Why do you use so many big words? It’s confusing

Very disappointed on how little you know about him compared to his brothers

“What do ya mean not enough lore?”

“I’ll show ya lore”

Lucifer may or may not have to “rescue” you from field trips to the fourth circle

Levi

Snake boy is flustered

You know him?

You actually like his stories?

You are i-i-interested in the g-great admiral?

“Why should I share my stories with a normie like you?”

Is very confused by you and he doesn’t like to be confused, so he keeps his distance

Until you slide a copy of an article you wrote about “Leviathan through cultures: similarities and idiosyncrasy”

You are a big obsessed nerd like him, only he likes video games and you books (don’t get me wrong, you like playing too, you just suck at it)

“I’m your Ruri-chan” he whispers after reading it

“Come with me! I’ll tell you every thing you need to know!” *anime pose*

Satan

HE. LOVES. YOU.

Finally someone who understands the beauty of spending hours reading in a library

At first was a bit bothered to always find someone else using the library

But you are very quiet when you concentrate

And you concentrate. For hours.

Very different from your overall hyper and impulsive behavior

Will happily explain to you all the inconsistencies in human literature

His memory is amazing, so he remembers every single event

Is very eager to explain why Satanás is far superior in literature and not at all the same character as Lucifer

“Why the humans always get it confused? It’s not that hard” procedes to give a very hard explanation

By the end of the program your research is so detailed and refined you can’t even publish it. No one will believe THAT level of details.

Asmo

Like Mammon, doesn’t like you at first.

Goes batshit crazy when you ask him why he doesn’t have three heads

“You appear one time to one human as an ugly beast after loosing a bet and then suddenly everyone thinks you are ugly!”

Demands you write at least one article proving to the humans he is beautiful

Will send you 7728372 selfies for you to use on the article

Likes to braid your hair and do your nails while you study, because “by Diavolo, you can be quiet when you focus!”

Is constantly worried about you because you don’t stop studying to drink water, eat or exercise

“Who is going to spread my beauty to the humans if you die?”

Secretly he just worries about you, nothing to do with spreading his beauty

Beel

Is VERY confused by you.

He didn’t ever remember he was once a god after he fell, how do you?

“What do you mean Mammon is seen as a part of me? Mammon is Mammon, I’m Beel”

Eventually he begins to enjoy listening to you talk about your research. You are very passionate about it and he enjoys when people like his brothers

Was upset when you reminded him about the god thing, because he recalled humans used to give him food offerings all of the time and now they don’t

You walk around with food on your pockets now

Belphie

Doesn’t like you. Doesn’t dislike you. You are just there.

Thinks you’re weird for writing 300 pages about Lucifer. Who would want to know that much about him?

Eventually he finds out you like to cuddle when you read in bed and “whatever, you are warm, I’m sleepy. I’ll indulge you”

He is like a big cat around your legs while you read

One day he peaks at what you are writing now

It’s about Lilith and how much of a power figure she is through history

You don’t see her as a fragile little girl

He will hide his face, he can’t let you see him emotional after all

But he’s is much more affectionate. He’ll even let you run your fingers through his hair now

Will tell you everything about his sister

And I mean EVERYTHING.

The rest of the boys are here now!

[queerdiaz]

Eddie falling asleep with his head in Buck's lap or on his thigh as maybe Buck's looking down at him-? I don't know take it from pls. there

A/N: I know you completely forgotten about this prompt but I'm still sorry it's taken me so long lol.

That being said, thank you so much for the prompt anyways :)

ao3 version here

----

"Are you okay?" Buck asked as Eddie wiggled ever so slightly in his seat for what felt like the millionth time. 

"I'm fine." Eddie answered also for the millionth time. 

The blond rolled his eyes. This was getting out of hand. 

"Eddie." He gave his best friend, who was stubbornly staring ahead and pretending to watch the cartoon that Christopher had enthusiastically picked, a pointed look before sofly kicking his ankle. 

The other man jerked and swivelled his head to meet Buck's gaze. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Eds, you're hurting." 

Eddie huffed a quick, "I'm fine." 

Before he could protest Christopher chimed in from his current spot on the floor against the couch that he moved to earlier after being tired of bumping into his dad whenever they moved at the same time. "Daaaaad." He started to say before letting out an exasperated sigh that made him seem like an actual teenager and not just a pre-teen. "You're hurt."

Eddie opened his mouth to protest but then closed it before letting out a sigh of defeat. "My shoulder is just aching a little from sitting on the couch for too long. It's not that big of a deal."

Both Buck and Chris shared a long-suffering look, used to the older Diaz's stubbornness but still a little exasperated from having to deal with it more frequently the past few weeks. Although, they'd didn't complained because as long as Eddie was still alive that was all that mattered. 

"Eds," Buck began to tell him in a soft voice, "do you need to lay down?"

It was Eddie's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm fine." He repeated with emphasis. "I've been in that damn bed enough these past few weeks to last a lifetime."

"Eddie." Buck told him sternly, knowing that if Eddie was showing discomfort and talking about his shoulder bothering him then it must've really been hurting him and he didn't want his best friend to exasperate the wound and hurt even more.

"Buck." Eddie mocked.

"Donkey!" Christopher exclaimed, breaking the tension. 

The two men blinked at each other, looked at the ten year old who started to giggle, then looked back at each other before starting to laugh as well. 

After a few moments of laughter, Buck let out a soft sigh. "Eddie, I'm serious. If you need to, I can help you to bed."

His best friend gave him a fond smile which wasn't until recently that Buck had realized the full effect it had on him. "I know. And thank you for caring, like you always do. But it's almost Chris' bedtime anyways and I want to spend as much time with you guys out here as possible."

Buck sighed, always ending up giving in to Eddie. It had taken his best friend getting shot for him to realize exactly why he had that effect on Buck. "I know you do." He said ever so softly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so overbearing. It's just..." He paused. 

"We worry about you." Christopher finished for him, patting his father's leg as he gave him a serious look. 

Eddie smiled down at his son. "I don't want you to worry, Mijo. That's my job."

"But dad, we do worry. It's what family does."

Eddie's smile brightened. "Well when you put it that way..." He then began to tickle his son, who's giggles echoed happily throughout the living room. 

However, the older Diaz could only tickle for a second or so before wincing in pain, although he did a pretty good job of hiding it. But Buck could tell how much his best friend was hurting. He always could. 

"Okay, that's it." Buck announced, moving closer to the end of the couch until his left side hit the arm. He then patted his thigh. "Come on."

Eddie's eyes widened ever so slightly, making Buck realize the innuendos that motion caused. 

He then cleared his throat. "Lay your head on my lap." 

Yeah that didn't sound quite better either. 

Buck then quickly added. "So you can finish the movie with me and Chris and be at least somewhat more comfortable."

Eddie gave him that small yet fond smile once more, eyes slightly widened as he looked at him in what seemed to be in awe. 

The blond shifted in his seat. "What?"

His best friend cleared his throat. "Nothing." His eyes then fell toward Buck's lap before travelling back to meet his gaze. "Are you sure?"

Buck rolled his eyes before patting his thigh again. "Of course. Come on, we're missing all the good parts."

Eddie's smile widened as he proceeded to lay down on the couch, his back against the cushions as his head tilted slightly to see the movie. 

Trying to help him be as comfortable as possible, Buck went to delicately rest his arm around Eddie's side so his bad shoulder could have more support. 

They surprisingly got settled in comfortable positions rather quickly as Christopher gave them a bright smile before turning his attention back on the tv and proceeding to rewind the little bit that they missed.

They watched the cartoon in a peaceful silence besides the laughter coming from all three of them at different points. It didn't take long for Buck to subconsciously begin to to rub small, soothing circles on Eddie's arm with one hand and softly run his fingers through Eddie's hair in the other. 

His best friend hitched a breath at first at the touch, which made Buck about to stop his small movements. But before he could, Eddie sunk further in the blond's hold, and let out a moan of contentment. 

"Hmmm. That's nice." He muttered, shifting his head ever so slightly so he could softly rub his nose against Buck's thigh, like a cat who was enjoying a head rub. 

And wow, okay. This was new. 

Though Buck could add it up to the list of small yet new and slightly alarming - but in a good way - things that Eddie had done since coming home from the hospital.

For a man who had gotten shot in broad daylight and almost… died, Eddie had surprisingly been... lighter in a way.

Even while he was struggling with dealing with having to only use one arm and needing other's help since Eddie always had a hard time asking for help. But at least with Buck he had been more open about it, more willing to tell the blond what he needed. Even though there were still plenty of times where Buck had to guess and not be told Eddie's needs, like just a few minutes prior. 

But, whenever Eddie would ask Buck for help and the blond immediately said "Of course" or when Buck gave him exactly what he needed at the moment without being asked, no matter what Eddie would always give him that fond smile. 

Buck had noticed it before that fateful day, but there was something about those fond looks that sorta...grew afterwards. A certain openness that always took his breath away. 

And then of course there were those lingering touches that Eddie had given him countless of times as well. 

Sure, Buck had been helping him with his PT exercises so of course they'd be touching a lot. But it wasn't just then. Like whenever Buck would hand Eddie something and their fingers would graze each other. Or whenever Eddie needed to walk pass Buck and his hand would press on his back for a moment. It was used to be where the touch would only last a milisecond but now it'd just linger there for a few secondw too long. In fact, whenever they'd accidentally touch - and that had been happening a lot in these past few weeks - Eddie would always just… linger there. And whenever he'd finally move away, he didn't look bashful or embarrassed or anything like that. No. He'd just give Buck this lingering, secretive smile that always made his stomach flutter, before going back to what he was doing and acting like he didn't just almost give Buck a heart attack with all of the palpitations that he caused. 

However, Buck would just try to tell himself that he was just overreacting and that it was just because his feelings for his best friend had been present more than ever and hard to keep in since the incident. That Eddie had always acted like that because they were best friends and close and that was what they did. Nothing changed except Buck temporarily moving in to help out which made everything seem more intimate than it really was. 

That was it. Nothing less. Nothing more. 

Well...besides the fact that Eddie had apparently put Buck in his will as Christopher's guardian if something were to happen to him. A fact that Eddie had kept to himself for a year. Something that Buck may or may not still be reeling from during these past few weeks. Especially as he and the Diaz boys had fallen into this somewhat domestic bubble that Buck kept trying to convince himself that it was just temporary as Eddie recovered. 

And it worked. For the most part. 

However, it had been more and more difficult for Buck to convince himself of it when it came to moments like his current one. 

With the way Eddie didn't second guess to lay on Buck's lap after getting the okay and proceeding to sink further into the touch. Eddie's little moans and noises of contentment as Buck continued his gentle movements. 

And...did Eddie's lips just gently graze the skin on Buck's thigh where his shorts rode up?

That...that had to be a mistake right? 

Because, sure, there had been moments here and there where it really felt like they were gonna kiss before one or both of them pulled away. But, again, this was all mostly likely in Buck's head. 

Right?

Daring to look down at Eddie, he noticed how his eyes were now closed as his breathing had gotten more even. It seemed like Eddie had fallen asleep, looking more peaceful than Buck had seen him in a long time. 

His heart was beating loudly in his chest, as his stomach tightened while every fiber in his being lightened up like they were on fire. Buck hitched a breath. He couldn't take it. His love for his best friend encompassed him. 

Every night he had nightmares of that day. Of the absolutely devastating fear of losing Eddie. Buck had never been more terrified in his life. But it were moments like this current one where Buck thanked the universe with everything he had that Eddie was here. That he was alive and breathing. That even after getting shot and dealing with the traumatizing struggle of his recovery, Eddie still seemed lighter. More open and sure of himself in a certain vulnerability that Buck had never seen on him before. Like a certain puzzle piece had clicked. And even when there were days where Eddie had been frustrated and angry and just flat out stubborn with his recovery, that lightness had still somehow been there, keeping him grounded. 

Eddie was alive. Eddie was getting better. And as he did, Buck was going to continue to be with him as much as possible. 

And even though his recovery was going to take a long time between the physical therapy and his therapy for his PTSD, and it was still gonna be a long and hard road, there were still moments where Eddie was happy. Happier than Buck had seen him in a long time even. 

Moments like these where it was just Eddie, Buck, and Christopher, being together. 

And Buck? Buck could live in these moments forever. As long as he had Eddie and Christopher then he'd be okay. 

At that thought he looked away from the sleeping man in his lap to check on Chris. The kid was now laying on the soft carpet, head on one of the couch pillows, now fast asleep just like his dad. 

His two Diaz boys. Who had both gone through so much more than anyone should in a lifetime and now were both sleeping happily, with small smiles both on their faces. 

Buck's heart clenched in his chest.

Now this? This was what pure happiness felt like. 

He then looked back down at the soft expression on Eddie's face as his best friend slept soundly. 

Buck couldn't take it anymore. 

Sure this was a very bad idea, but his heart felt like it was going to rip out of his chest. His love for the best friend he'll ever have was just too much. 

And so, in a moment of weakness, Buck leaned his head down and kissed Eddie's forehead, lingering there for a few seconds or so before whispering in a hushed tone, "I love you."

Eddie's head shifted ever so slightly which made Buck immediately rip his hand away. 

His best friend's eyes slowly fluttered open before meeting his gaze. 

And there it was. That fond look yet again. But this time it was brighter than Buck had ever seen it before.

Eddie smiled up at him, "I love you too."

And just like that Buck finally knew what that missing puzzle piece Eddie had seemed to find. Because he was now feeling it too as everything fell into place.

Not being able to contain himself anymore, Buck leaned down and placed a small yet emotional-filled kiss on Eddie's lips. His best friend returned the kiss with as much vigor. 

After Buck lifted his head up ever so slightly, he placed his forehead against Eddie's as they smiled softly at each other. 

Yeah, he could get used to this.

[horriblyunprepared]

ED MYTHBUSTING

Eating disorders are NOT contagious! Stop treating them like they are. It’s a mental illness, just like any other...not contagious!

Thin celebrities aren’t The Reason™️ people have eating disorders, although the way thin bodies are presented may cause or contribute to feelings of insecurity or shame about food and the body.

The invention of size 0 and 00 are not The Cause™️ of eating disorders—and they aren’t unrealistic sizes, some people are just small and need those sizes.

That whole idea that we look in the mirror and see a big fat person when we actually look like skeletons?? It’s just not universal, and it’s strange to assume that it would be. I’m sure some people do have that experience, but it’s not universal. My eyes are fine, I can see my body just fine, it’s about feelings—not about what my body actually looks like.

Not everyone with an ED is super skeletal skinny, or white, or female, or able-bodied, or teenaged. Just like everyone else, we come in all shapes, sizes, colors, ages, etc. We aren’t all skeletal, white, teenage girls 🤷🏽‍♀️

For some reason, in all the fiction I’ve seen about EDs, the girl with the ED has divorced parents with whom she has a rocky relationship? Dysfunctional family situations are a big risk factor and can contribute to stress and disordered eating. But everyone has different experiences and, needless to say (I hope) some of us have good relationships with our parents, some of us have parents who aren’t divorced, etc etc. This one feels particularly harmful though, because it kind of implies that it’s the parents’ fault that their child has an eating disorder because they got divorced.... And divorced doesn’t always mean bad! *EDIT* Divorce can also be very good, as it ends marital conflict that can be traumatic to children and can remove children from a toxic and abusive situation. Unfortunately, this doesn’t erase the trauma that happened before the divorce and doesn’t mean that the divorce itself won’t be traumatic either. Children need love, care, and stability—which they can adequately receive from divorced parents, if no abuse is involved, but sometimes this isn’t provided and the trauma can manifest as an eating disorder.

People with anorexia DO actually eat. Sometimes, we even eat normal, balanced, sufficient meals. Which leads me to...

Not all days are bad days, at least not for everyone. I have an eating disorder, but some days I feel totally fine and normal. Just like any other mental illness...it’s not constant uninterrupted anguish.

“Diet culture” is not The Cause™️ of eating disorders, but it may contribute to feelings of shame about food and the body.

Eating disorders are “about” a person’s relationship with food and their body...but they aren’t really ABOUT a persons relationship with food and their body. For some people, it’s about control, or shame, or gender dysphoria, or fear of adulthood, or purity. For some people it’s about a fear of abandonment, fearing that people will leave you and not take care of you unless you’re sick.

Not everyone with EDs hides their body under baggy clothes! Not all of us feel the need or want to cover up.

Like all mental disorders, EATING DISORDERS ARE NOT A LIFESTYLE CHOICE. They’re complex mental disorders, trust me! No one just chooses to starve themselves, force themselves to vomit, eats until it hurts, or exercise till they pass out. These aren’t fun quirky lifestyle choices.

Not all of us “look sick,” you can be a normal weight and still have an ED. This goes back to #5. I’m olive toned and tan which makes my complexion look healthier than the skeletal, white, teen girl you’re expecting—that doesn’t mean I’m doing great.

Getting up to a healthy weight or “looking healthier/better” doesn’t mean someone in recovery is actually doing better. If they were in inpatient care, they likely HAD to gain weight to get out...this doesn’t mean the mental part of this MENTAL ILLNESS is cured.

On the other hand, being thin doesn’t mean someone, even someone with a history of EDs, isn’t doing okay. Again, and I cannot stress this enough, people with EDs come in all different shapes and sizes. Even if someone is “too thin” and in recovery, it doesn’t mean they’re faking, all bodies are different maybe this is normal for them, or maybe they arent at a normal weight for them but they’re really trying to gain weight and get better. Maybe they’ve broken the ED in their brain and are waiting for their body to follow—don’t invalidate their progress by commenting on their size.

Anorexia and Bulimia aren’t the only eating disorders! There’s orthorexia, diabulimia, binge eating disorder, OSFED, etc. No one is worse than another per se, everyone has different experiences, different severity, and no matter what ED someone has it is always deeply painful and everyone deserves help!

Not all eating disorders are connected to or caused by a single traumatic event or by any traumatic event at all. Everyone has different experiences, and some people are just predisposed to develop eating disorders...

If you haven’t guessed by now there is no single Cause™️ of eating disorders. People have different life experiences, different brains, different habits....

People with EDs are not an enemy to people in larger bodies, fat acceptance, body positivity, etc. That would be like saying that people with depression are an enemy to happiness and positivity, and I think we can all agree that that’s not the case. Body positivity is wonderful, and I’m sure there are far more people with EDs than you think who are strong advocates for body positivity or who want to be able to accept the body positive message but aren’t currently capable because of their disorder.

Having an eating disorder doesn’t mean that you just hate food, that you judge others for eating or what they eat, that you fat shame others, etc. I know a lot of people with EDs who LOVE food and are wonderful cooks. Some people with EDs may feel uncomfortable being around people who are eating, but not everyone feels that way. As with any insecurities, people sometimes project their body insecurities onto others—it’s not a great thing to happen, it’s not fun, but it is fairly normal and it doesn’t mean that someone with an ED is necessarily judging other’s food choices or body.

Treatment and recovery are different for everyone—and they should be different for everyone. It’s wrong and dangerous to administer the same treatment to every person with an ED. People with both Type 1 diabetes and an ED (usually, have been misusing insulin to lose weight) need vastly different care than someone with a different condition, and beyond that different people just need different care. No single thing works for everybody, it would be nice if that was the case though!

Please feel free to keep adding, it’s really important to bust these myths, stereotypes, and misconceptions. Just like everybody else, people with EDs are widely varied and diverse and it’s important that we recognize this to make it easier for people to recognize disordered eating and get help.

Feel free to comment on this post. Are there any ED myths I missed that really bug you? Am I wrong?? Let me know!

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi Goldy, JK was bold in the past, around 2017-2019 (to me, gcf & rosebowl can be considered as ‘coming out’). But it seems he now prefers to stay closeted? E.g. he snatched JM’s hand in the Xylitol x BTS shoot, then looked at the camera. Holding hands is normal among members… a lot of his interactions with Jin, V and other members are more intimate than holding hands… his reaction makes me feel like he wants me to pretend I didn’t know…?

Sorry I've been a bit AWOL lately...

I'm busy being the man of my woman's dreams in a cis het anti black capitalist world

Fun times.

I saw that bit, uWu-ed and kept it pushing.

It's nothing new really. I think a few months back when I was out here screaming Jikook are toning down, acting super professional around the cameras yadda yadda people out here were looking at me like I'd lost my two delulu heads- but this segues into that theme for me and since I've exhausted the topic I don't know what else to add.

I've said before they've both been very conscious of the cameras within certain periods post October- again nothing new, they be like that every now and then every season every phase and the whys will always be up for debate in these ship streets- on that subject, I've read a lot of opinions yet I think like mine better and will stick to it. Thanks Kimberly of Delulu precinct. Walk along now. Lol.

Jimin was like that during the Coway behind the scene shoot too when he noticed the cameras and quickly elbowed Jk to draw him away from the gaze of the cameras.

I don't think it's because they stopped being 'bold' or want to pretend. It takes a lot of courage to even pretend or even perform the gay in front of the world and your peers. I think they are just awfully aware and conscious of the people they work with as well as corporation's growing awareness, intentions and interests in them. You just never know which saessang is moonlighting as a brand PA or marketing director for a company they are working with. You just never know who is watching especially whenever they have to work with these 'outsiders.'

Think of Dispatch. Were they not allies or business partners, they'd be careful around them too if they worked with them. Know what I mean?

Toning down and exercising caution is necessary sometimes. I don't know why some people think that's absurd or Tuktukkerish when I say stuff like that. Especially with the kind of reputation they have as a ship and just how commercially attractive that image is. It's common sense at this point if you ask me.

Jikook sells. Argue with the analytics. I don't know who thinks they don't. Must be the clowns and penguins. They sell period. BigHit knows this, BTS knows this, companies know this. We don't scream Jikook is a brand within a brand for no reason.

And a lot of the toning down in recent times has perhaps inadvertently mitigated that growing power and demand of them as a marketing resource- who knows, that could have as well been by design, intentionally instigated for obvious reasons which I argue is the case but don't mind me. I'm delusional, gay and apparently the man of my woman's dreams uWu. Gotta wear that pants in my relationship. Ayaya Hwaiting.

When you say he prefers to stay closested- I thought they are both closested already?? They both have never been fully out in our opinion. Yes our opinion because I feel we are like minded. Let's be delulu mates.

On the topic of closets, I want to save that for a separate post. What I can say though is they are both growing and maturing and learning and unlearning. Jungkook's desire to 'come out' or act reckless with his glass closet in my opinion stemmed from him placing more value on his personal happiness over other values perhaps because he was young and hadn't fully grasped the full and complex nature of happiness or understand the privilege he has as part of BTS.

We make decisions based on our values most times. It's how I make sense of their actions really. I'm more likely to assume things that are consistent with the values they each have expressed openly and tend to reject any theory that contradicts or is inconsistent with those values. A guy who values his career is less likely to act in a way that puts that career at risk. And I'm well aware their values evolve over time.

These days he has never quit as one of his mottos next to rather dead than cool- do you see the contradictions in those values? Rather dead means quitting life. Yet now he says never quit. Don't mind me. I'm in a grumpy mood.

But what I'm saying is, the desire to want to show the world who this person means to him is not fixed or a priority all the time. Now i think he values his career a lot more than before which means he is more likely to compromise and less likely to do things that may put that career in jeopardy.

Transferring that to his relationship, I don't expect him to be breaching the glass closet anytime soon. And if he do, it might be incidental and may carry with it consequences which I believe he is well aware and concious of now. Will that change? You bet. Again it depends a lot on what his values in a given moment are and which ones he prioritizes.

It's their relationship. They chose which aspects of it they want to share with the cameras. Some of it get written off as fanservice. Fair enough. But the nonfanservice passing moments has always been questionable- although I must say, I find all Jikook moments and interactions questionable lol.

It's just skinship. Holding hands I mean. Why would he be conscious of that right? II'vetalked about consequences and repercussions of their actions. Sometimes I think it's the off screen scolding that gets to him. The ones silently whispered at his back. I mean we saw his reaction when Jimin was getting scolded by the hyungs for sleeping late. He's talked about skipping sleep too if I recall correctly. Jimin is hyung and I know the hyungs expect him to know better and do better. I'd Imagine Jimin would equally scold JK if his actions reflected poorly on him too.

So why the hell would he not say anything to Jungkook for posting on his birthday when he hadn't posted at all for any hyung's??? Sigh.

It's sad his guards are back up- but it's for good reason I believe given the context of the situation.

I don't think dramatizing his dynamic with Jimin makes him bold. Nor does Jimin's propensity to over express himself with Jungkook mean he loves Jungkook more than. Both are extreme takes for me.

Nevertheless, I contrast that moment with a Tae Kook moment which is one of my favorite tuktukk moments. In this moment, JK is staring at Jimin, his whole body turned towards him. Tae notices the cameras and draws JK's attention to it. I think there are two such moments like that from the recent contents? I don't know I have to cross check.

Tae in that moment reminded me a lot of Jimin. Jimin does this too- play out their relationship infront of the cameras to the point one might say he likes to show off their bond- which is such a BTS thing to do too so no big deal. I mean they like to show off their bond and chemistry as Tae said a while back.

It's one thing for JK to hesitate to act with a member because of the cameras, it's another for him to act self conscious only after the fact.

And JK has always been him like this with Jimin as Jimin used to say- JK acts different with me off cameras than he is on camera. He had a history of suppressing himself around Jimin owing in part to his personality

He's talked about putting on a mask around people and in a recent interview Jimin have talked about pretending and acting one way when he's not- I mean I've ever talked about the boy being in love with the Maknae being a facade- one of many.

They have public personas which, from what BTS themselves say, looks slightly different or similar to what we see on screens- or that they've grown to be more like what we see on screens.

I guess what I'm getting at is that 'pretending' isn't exactly a new thing or out of the ordinary. Personally I'd say he's being conscious of his surroundings like Jimin was and not that he is 'pretending.' If you know what I mean.

If he's pretending he has good reason to I believe and we can only speculate on that- we can't know for sure why.

If Jikook is fanservice then there's no need for either of them to worry about the cameras picking up on their interactions or who's watching them.

What goes on in Tae's head? I wanna know.

I don't know where to direct this post because you didn't really ask a question.

I'm fine thanks for asking. I'm really fine. I'm thinking of joining Jimin in the gym at 3am to bench press and build some biceps to match my role in my relationship😒

And no I don't need any advice. Keep it.

This is going to be my attitude until we switch back😐

I'm gonna be a boyfriend from hell and a blogger from satan's ass.

Also I think I overshare💀

GOLDY

[zoopzopp]

A post for some BAMF Izuku fics <3 (more of these will be added and the list will be updated as i read them)

Fics i've read:

The Secret Ingredient is Crime- Izuku only had a whole month to further prove himself worthy of Yuuei's golden acceptance, and he was going to do whatever it took to make it in. Yuuei would never truly know what hit them until it was too late. (The secret crime AU in it entirety is fucking amazing and what wouldn't i give to read more stuff with it)

Deku the Villain Hunter: Support Hero - We all know the story: After being told he couldn't be a Hero by All Might, Midoriya Izuku still wandered over to a supervillain attack where he could save Bakugou Katsuki. But what if he had made the other turn? The answer is a butterfly effect that would lead him on a path to paving his own future. A path of revenge, finding his own moral compass, and doing the impossible. (OKAY MANY THOUGHTS. Very cool story and aspects. I binged it overnight and lost a bit of sleep the next night as well.)

The Story of How Midoriya Izuku Asserted His Dominance (And Traumatized Japan) - The Sports Festival was supposed to be a break from stress. Shouta should have known there is no such thing as a break with his class.

making it right (for real this time) - - Izuku is a support course student at UA, and Katsuki's neighbor, best friend, and former bullying victim. After Izuku's performance at the sports festival, Katsuki realizes something. He has to make things right. -

Hero Fall (UA Civil War Exercise) - It's now the end of the first year of UA for our students. Nedzu had decided to bring back the annual Heroes vs Villain fight. The fight shall last 5 days and the villain leader is Izuku Midoriya, with the commanding officer of the hero team being Katsuki Bakugo. But, what happens when Izuku is left alone?

Hero Class Civil Warfare - Heroes lead by Bakugo. Villains lead by Midoriya. Seven days prep time. Three days for Izuku Midoriya to show why they should be glad he's not a real villain.

"I Didn't Know You Had It In You." - Midoriya goes feral rage mode in his fight against Overhaul. The beat down still happens, but with Eri no longer at his back, he gets more violent. One For All reacts in an interesting way and Midoriya commits a terrible and unheroic act - the cold blooded murder and maiming of Chisaki Kai. Shigaraki is there to watch it all unfold.

Plan C meets Plan A - Even if All Might is right and Izuku can't be a hero, Izuku refuses to be useless. So Izuku uses his analysis skills to develop Plan C: Consulting in order to help the heroes. Eraserhead is impressed by this mysterious new consultant but alarm bells in Deku's behaviour quickly have Aizawa recruiting help for Plan A: Adoption.

Q. A. B. - One month after @hawks_unofficial's initial viral post, the blog titled "Quirk Analysis Blog for the Future", otherwise known as "Q. A. B.", has gone from an average of 10 views per post to an average of 20,000 views per post. Midoriya Izuku does not know how to view the impressions analysis for his suddenly popular blog, and only notices that sometimes, people actually comment on his posts now. He does not google himself or his moniker and thus does not see the rise in online articles and speculation. He is unaware that the "kyuu-ei-bee" he begins to hear about in passing refers to his own blog. He does not have a Twitter account. At the time, Midoriya Izuku is 15 years old.

How to murder your father - It's dangerous to be a bad father when you have a life insurance. Just saying.

Negation - Passive Quirks are a bitch. Izuku is reasonably done with the situation.

Thanks For Your Support - Izuku has the talent and the intellect to be the first Quirkless pro hero, and everyone at UA knows it. Unfortunately, his desire to become a hero has long since been buried thanks to the words of his childhood friend and childhood hero.

Policed To Meet You - Izuku takes All Might's advice and becomes a cop.

Vigilante Work And Other After School Activities - Izuku is a vigilante, Aizawa likes cats and therefore kids who help cats, and sometimes breaks must be forced upon overachieving teenagers.

When the Commission Lost Total Control - The hero polls have a small part where one can suggest their own hero. This is done just because of the amount of heroes is to great to name them all. This creates a little problem for the commission because a vigilante is assumed to be a brand new hero by the public- and ranks pretty high. Because of that, this vigilante now is too popular to hide and they can't come out with their mistake either! Think of the chaos that would bring.

Izuku being Badass but like in not that grand of a way but still tearing-people-down-in-some-way kind of way

He Was Quirkless - Midoriya get's sick of discrimination against the quirkless and decides to do something about it. It leads to some interesting situations. A trilogy.

bloody, but unbowed- It's Advocacy Week for Yuuei's hero students and it gives Midoriya Izuku a lot to think about about what kind of hero he wants Deku to be.

Called Out - When Izuku is hit by a quirk that will cause him to call out the first person to be rude to him on the way to school with every mistake they've made in the affected persons presence or have otherwise effected said affected person, Aizawa is in for a rough ride. In other words, with some help from a quirk, Izuku rakes Aizawa over the hot coals until he gives out. (a great fic but i've got mixed feelings on this one because on one hand, izuku is badass but on the other its Aizawa bashing and really like him skhdskdb so yea! Read it as per your tastes!!)

The time when everyone learned that izuku respects Bakugo more than all might. - I didn't like how Bakugo was tied up during the sports festival and so izuku didn't. Badass izuku roasted all might and midnight.

Villainous Sunshine - After an innocent question, Class 1-A learns just how terrifying Izuku's analysis is. Nedzu's along for the ride.

Never understand ( and you can't ) - Midoriya is sick and tried of his classmates bias and prejudice against the quirkless community and finally breaks

Mastermind: Strategist For Hire - Izuku Midoriya never got the chance to save Bakugo from the sludge villain and impress All Might. With his dream crushed, Izuku becomes bitter and angry. It also doesn't help that he faces discrimination at every turn. All he ever wanted was to be appreciated, so when the villains are the ones to recognize his talents rather than the heroes, well, Izuku just can't resist. He might as well help those who actually want him around. Mistakes were made, and now society must face a villain of their own making: Mastermind.

Malignance - Deku is far scarier than anyone gives him credit for.

Fics in my to read list which has/probably has BAMF izuku

Young Midoriya - Izuku Midoriya couldn't help himself when he saw someone in trouble. Even at 12 years old, his instincts drive him to help those in need. So when he sees Kacchan and his goons about to ambush another student, he has to step in, right? It's not like this hasn't happened before. What is different this time though, is that he's never had an audience that consisted of the Number One Hero.

Heroics and Other Things That Don't Require Superpowers - Izuku doesn't have a quirk. That's the long and short of it. After being told his whole life he can't be a hero, General Education at UA is the best he can hope for, right? Wrong. Dead Wrong. So super wrong that his best friend from Gen Ed, all of Class 1A and a whole mess of Pro Heroes are going to prove to him how wrong he is. Izuku has the makings of a hero, and his lack of a quirk only throws those qualities into starker relief. After all, who wants to be as strong as All Might when you can be the cleverest hero in the business?

Cases of More Than - Izuku is known as Deku online. He's an analyst of quirks, sometimes even working with the local detective, Tsukauchi, on a case. He meets new friends, builds a few relationships, and slowly crushes on his best friend. But then he's thrown into the General Studies Course at U.A. It doesn't help that All for One is showing an interest in him at all.

No Regret - In this world there is no hard set villain or hero. No victim and aggressor. Everyone is at fault for something and Izuku, with his own villain group, will make everyone pay. Even the bystanders who did nothing. This is what society gets for abandoning it's people. Deku will manipulate everyone and be the greatest villain, all so the world can be a better a place. With the stakes so high there is no time for regret.

We Are a Different Kind - Mirio doesn’t think he can be a hero anymore now that he’s quirkless, Izuku calls bullshit.

Live a Hero - "You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Or, you're raised a villain, rebel when you're nine, and fight against the odds to become a hero anyway. That's how it is in Izuku's case.

Prodigal - After being convinced to give One for All to Mirio, Midoriya Izuku must rebuild his shattered dreams with bloody hands.

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Vigilante - Izuku is orphaned at the age of four and is sent into the Japanese Foster Care System. After multiple failed attempts at finding a forever home and some unfortunate circumstance, he ends up on the streets. Eventually, the vigilante, Deku appears. Eraserhead must gain his trust to bring Deku back to the right side of the law. If he he does, however, the untrustful but pure-hearted boy may just be a bit more than Aizawa Shota can handle.

From Muddy Waters - - but the sleeve of his tracksuit was bulging, tearing and ripping and a mass of twisted flesh, nearly as big as the boy himself and nauseatingly familiar (the arm of the man that had torn a hole in his side with a grin and left him a frail shadow of himself) swung forward and slammed into the flat face of the giant robot. Izuku wants to be a hero more than anything.

Pieces are easily sacrificed when they're nameless - Nobody ever thought quirkless, weak, weird Midoriya Izuku was dangerous. This perception carried over to his first year high school class, because really despite the super strength Midoriya didn't have it in him to be dangerous. That was their first mistake. And the one that would see them fall.

Not exactly BAMF izuku but i just wanted to rec these fics <3

In the shade of a sunflower - Being biologically quirkless came more with an extra pinkie joint in the toes and a stunning lack of vestiges mutations. It came with smaller things, like extra teeth that did virtually nothing, exploding organs, and weird exposed nerves that weren't designed to feel pain.

Throat Punch - In which Aizawa attempts to teach Izuku how to use various battle tactics and it goes just about as well as you'd expect. At least Shinsou is there with his fantastic commentary. (just a fun lil thing where izuku is really stronk and trains with shinsou and aizawa)

So Be It - He could still do good. Midoriya could show them all what a hero without powers looked like. If he had to break a few rules to do it, so be it. So be it… (as stated not exactly BAMF but its a vigilante izuku so ye-)

Never Enter a Drinking Game with Bakugo or Izuku - Izuku walks in on Kirishima and Kaminari having a drinking competition (no alcohol involved). And it reminds him of an old story.

5 Times Midoriya Taught Class 1A about Memes and 1 Time they Found a Villain that Understood Them - After being diagnosed as quirkless, Midoriya gets into pre-guirk media and finds memes. He shares them with Class 1A. Aizawa doesn't get paid enough for this. (THIS FIC???? FUCKING AWESOME. LITERALLY WHAT I WANTED TO SEE)

Midoriya: JD Version - Nedzu has decided that a play should be put on so that the students can learn how to "go undercover", an idea which Aizawa thinks is utter bullshit. They're putting on Heathers and when Nedzu chooses to cast Midoriya for JD, everyone objects. Midoriya is a much better actor than they thought.

that is a lot!! I hope you have fun reading it!!!

[velkynkarma]

Big List of FMA Parental Roy Mustang Fic Recs

Recently a family member of mine has been enjoying Fullmetal Alchemist for the first time. I’ve been revisiting it too for fun. While I was at it, I decided to poke through the fandom, revisit old fic favorites, and see if there were any good new ones. 

Turns out: there are!

I was always a big fan of Roy Mustang, and especially fics where he acts as a surrogate parental figure for Ed and Al, accidentally or intentionally. It was hard to find good ones though, so I thought I’d throw together a list of fic recs. 

Everything here is platonic, and does not focus on romantic relationships. Fics can be from the 2003 anime, Brotherhood, or the manga. 

To the Night Sky by Ranowa 

Summary: They tell him he lost his mind. He doesn't remember anything else, so he believes them. But if that's the case, then why does he sometimes feel like he doesn't belong here... and neither does that little, annoying, blond kid named Ed? 

Comments: In the author’s words, ‘not a traditional amnesia fic,’ and it sure isn’t. Long, eventful, has a ton of hurt/comfort but also a great background plot that ends up becoming more important the farther you go. This author also has a few other great FMA fics that are worth checking out, but this one stuck out to me the most. 

War Heroes by Akarii

Summary: Drawn by rumors of a Philosopher's Stone, Edward travels to North City along with Roy and the soldiers of Eastern Command who plan to compete in the North vs. East Training Exercises. However, Ed and Roy find their lives at risk when they get captured by a rebellion group who aim for the end of all State Alchemists and the entire Amestrian government.

Comments: Great adventure fic with some good hurt/comfort, but also plenty of Roy and Ed both kicking ass and taking names. This author also has some other FMA fics that are definitely worth checking out as well, but this was again the stand-out for me. 

Number Twenty Eight by Sevlow

Summary: As of today, Edward Elric had been missing for four months, two weeks, and five days.

Comments: An oldie but still a goodie. Ed goes missing, and when he’s found again, he’s a Nina-esque dog chimera in bad shape. With Al on the other side of the country chasing down another lead on his missing brother, it’s up to Roy to try and fix Ed, and take care of him in the interim. Chimera!fic was a dime a dozen back in the days of the 2003 anime fandom, but this was one of the ones that delivered on the premise. Years later, it still holds up and remains a personal favorite, with plenty of hurt/comfort and dark humor moments. Sevlow has a lot of other Roy-centric fics that are equally good, though not necessarily parental!Roy.

Warning: Parts of this fic do get super dark, with references to suicide, gore, and implied sexual abuse during Ed’s missing months. 

Bookwrm389: This author had some of my favorite FMA fics back in the day. Imagine my shock when I discovered their FF.net account has been completely deleted within the past year. Thankfully, they only orphaned their stories on AO3, so they’re still available. Since it is an orphaned account now, I can’t link to it for people to browse at their leisure, so here’s individual links to all my favorites:

Gold from Lead ~ There were whispers. There was absolutely no way to stop them. Ed would rip out his spleen if he knew what all those people were insinuating about the two of them.

Comments: Ed gets kidnapped by insurgents to be used as ransom against his father. The problem? Thanks to the rumor mill, everyone thinks his father is Colonel Roy Mustang. 

Your Son ~ "I'm not your father. It's not fair that you can affect me this much." A military function becomes a nightmare when Ed accidentally takes a poisoned drink meant for Roy.

Comments: Exactly what it says on the tin. Somebody tries to assassinate Roy, and Ed gets caught in the crossfire. Excellent hurt-comfort. Also features Maes Hughes being awesome, and Roy having an existential oh my god am I a dad????? moment. 

Tempest ~ Ed is adamant that he doesn't need a father. And it's only when he's about to lose the closest thing he has to one that he understands how very wrong he is.

Comments: Has a solid dose of both action-adventure and hurt/comfort and found family moments. It’s the full package. 

Shadow of a Doubt ~ It was meant to be a simple inspection, but a disturbing dream makes Ed uneasy and fearful. His anxiety intensifies when the mission takes a dangerous turn, putting his and Mustang's lives at risk. Can he hold it together long enough to save them both?

Comments: Another nice, long fic with a good combination of action, hurt/comfort, and family moments. One of my favorites.

Likeness ~ One morning mere hours before an inspection, Roy is amazed to receive absolute proof that his young subordinate is growing up.

Comments: A surprisingly adorable fic in which Roy ends up being the one to teach Ed how to shave. 

Bonus fics that aren’t specifically parental Roy but do still have some hilarious Roy and Ed interaction: 

Military Courtesy ~ Ed learns how to do a proper military salute and promptly drives the Colonel absolutely insane (or not)

Who’s the Alchemist? ~ A Who’s on First parody that goes exactly like how you’d expect but still had me cracking up

Name Calling by Lost_And_Longing

Summary: From the start, Roy Mustang had always believed in Edward Elric. Even after he'd learned the horrific story of their attempt at human transmutation, Mustang had just looked at Ed and offered him a chance. He'd come when Ed was despondent, weak, and helpless...and offered him a way out. Maybe that was why, out of all the men Ed knew, Roy was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

Comments: A 5+1 based on all the different names and titles Ed uses for Roy. Has a nice dollop of humor, hurt/comfort, and parental moments. 

Of Hospitals and Health by ReminiscentRevelry

Summary: Al is still recovering after the Promised Day, so Colonel Mustang pays him a visit.

Comments: Post-series (although not by much). A nice fic where Al actually gets a little moment with Mustang. Most parental Roy fics are with Ed, so this was a nice change of pace as well as as sweet little fic in which Roy shows he cares about both of the Elrics, even if only one is technically his subordinate.

Twelve Cups of Coffee by BeyondtheClouds777

Summary: Roy finds a sleep-deprived Edward in his office.

Comments: Just a cute little one shot in which a freshly appointed State Alchemist Edward Elric overworks himself trying to find the solutions to his and Al’s problem, and Roy makes sure he knows not to push himself too hard.

Point of Exhaustion by Took-Baggins

Summary: Roy never thought he'd be the one to be there when Edward finally pushed himself too far, but when the Fullmetal Alchemist suddenly collapses there's no one else to hold him down until he can stand again.

Comments: Another fic in which Teenagers Are Just Bad At Knowing How To Take Care Of Themselves, so the adults step in to make sure they do. Ed’s not eating or sleeping properly when he’s so obsessed with getting Al’s body back and makes himself sick. Features both a parental Roy and a parental Hawkeye, because both of them are fed up with the smallest youngest member of their team not properly taking care of himself and are not gonna let that stand. 

When the Rain Falls by Marcellebelle

Summary: Colonel Roy Mustang has two problems: Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Comments: Still a WIP, but the first two chapters are definitely promising. A sickly Ed calls Roy asking for help when his brother is kidnapped, and now Roy has to find one and make sure the other is taken care of. Really looking forward to seeing where this one goes.

As always, if you take the time to check any of these out, try to leave a comment or kudos for the writers and their hard work!

[cyhyr]

Whumptober Day 5

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Iruka/Mizuki ; Iruka & Naruto ; Iruka & Kakashi

WC: ~1900

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: A/B/O, pregnancy, abortion, abusive relationship, pack dynamics, lying

A/N: whooo two updates in one night now I'm only two days behind 🥳 this fic has a lot of my own a/b/o headcanons which I don't really explain, sorry. This is a scene of a story idea I've been stewing on for some time, but one which I do not think I will further develop.

This is also unbeta-ed. sorrynotsorry.

Tagging for Whumptober: @sweetysamaa, @atereal, @kelkage

~

Naruto runs ahead and turns the corner into the compound before Iruka can admonish him to be careful and watch where he’s going. He follows behind slower, weighed down by a grocery bag in each hand, and turns into the compound in a good mood. A day out with Naruto is always pleasant and makes him happy—even though the four-year-old isn’t his biological pup, Iruka knows he’s as good as imprinted on the kid. He’s so glad that Hatake-san had approached him to be a part of his pack. He likely never would have gotten this chance, otherwise.

He smiles softly. They’re only an embryo, barely the size of a sunflower seed now, but so very precious and already the whole pack is excited to have their second pup.

“I don’t care if it’s your home, Iruka’s my omega—”

“Our omega,” Hatake-san growls.

“But the pup is mine.”

Naruto creeps back to Iruka’s side at some point and takes his hand. Iruka’s other hand slips to his belly, resting protectively over where his new pup is growing. In the garden, Hatake-san is mostly calm, hands in his pockets and eye staring the other alpha down. Mizuki is… less calm. He’s posturing, pacing back and forth and swinging his arms around wildly.

“This pack wouldn’t exist without me,” Hatake-san growls. “The pup should be given the choice to be raised as Hatake.”

Around them are the pack betas. Anko is trying to put herself between Mizuki and Hatake-san, while Gai-sensei and Tenzō-san are also trying to physically deter the other alpha from starting a fight.

Naruto whines, soft and scared, pulling on Iruka’s uniform pants. “Why are they fighting?”

Iruka puts himself slightly in front of Naruto. “Let’s go inside. We don’t need to be here for all this, okay?”

They barely get to the door when Mizuki explodes. “Iruka is mine and that pup is mine,” he snarls. “I’ll take him and leave this pack without an omega, and then you’ll lose your precious monster-child. I hold the cards here, Kakashi; you’re the one with silly things like bonds.”

Iruka pushes Naruto inside and glares over his shoulder at Mizuki and Hatake-san, still posturing and snarling at each other. If he weren’t carrying, he’d put himself between them just like Anko is doing, but…

He looks over at Naruto, now playing in the corner of the kitchen with the collection of blocks Gai had bought him a few days ago. Mizuki could take Iruka out of the pack; he is right in his claim to be the pup’s sire, and can easily force a mating bite with little or no repercussions. If this were to happen, Hatake-san would lose his right to have Naruto as an adopted pup—Sandaime did say that this whole thing was contingent on Hatake having a pack, and without an omega the pack will fall apart. Naruto would end up back in the orphanage; Iruka’s not delusional enough to believe that Mizuki would let him keep Naruto, even if he has imprinted.

Iruka braces his lower back on the kitchen counter and shuts his eyes. He doesn’t want to have to make this choice.

He lays his hands over his belly and weeps.

~

“I need you to be very good today,” Iruka says, holding Naruto’s hand as they walk through the village.

“You always want me to be good, ka-chan! And I am!!”

Iruka smiles. “That’s true. I do love it when you’re good. But today more than usual, I really need you to be on your best behavior.”

He opens the doors to the hospital and herds Naruto inside. Mizuki is at the Academy, Anko at T&I, Gai is with Kakashi doing some odd training exercises, and Tenzō is… well, Iruka’s not supposed to know that Tenzō is ANBU, but he saw the beta’s mask a few days ago.

Everyone is occupied.

He takes Naruto to the elevator and together they ride up to the second floor. Just beyond the elevator doors is a small waiting room that smells of rich, pregnancy pheromones. Half of the chairs are taken.

Iruka goes up to the reception desk and says, “Hi, I’m Umino Iruka; I called last night?”

The receptionist looks up at him and nods. “I remember. You can have a seat.”

It doesn’t take long at all for his name to be called, and he collects Naruto from the play table and quietly follows the nurse into the exam rooms.

“How far along are you?” the nurse asks once they’re in the privacy of a closed room. The door shuts heavily under her palm.

“Seven weeks.”

“Any mating bites, courtings, packmates?”

“I have a pack—three betas and two alphas. No courting or mating bites though.”

“And the pup here?”

Iruka puts his hand on Naruto’s shoulder and gently squeezes. “He’s adopted. We’re imprinted.”

The nurse makes a note. “Congratulations,” she murmurs. “Do you want to disclose a reason for termination?”

“No, thank you.” He pauses, considering; then says, “but it is urgent, if I could get it done today.”

She looks up at him and sets her folder and pen aside. She takes her glasses off. “Umino-sensei, are you safe within your pack?”

Naruto looks up at him with a small head tilt.

Iruka reiterates, “It’s urgent, and I’d like to have it done today. If at all possible.”

The nurse purses her lips and says, “I’ll see what we can do for you, Umino-sensei. We’ll need to do a pelvic exam first, so if you could get undressed?” She pulls out a modesty blanket from a drawer behind her, and then leaves the room.

As soon as it’s back to just him and Naruto, Iruka falls apart. He leans against the edge of the exam table and hugs his middle, sniffing and crying. And then Naruto is right in front of him, reaching up to his face and patting his cheeks. “Ka-chan, why are you crying?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t—I’m okay, I promise. I will be okay.”

Naruto frowns and rests his temple against Iruka’s belly. “What does ‘terminate’ mean?”

Iruka cries harder, hugging Naruto tightly and tries to think about the best way to answer the question. He hasn’t had Naruto for more than half a year, but he knows he’ll do anything to keep him… even if it means aborting this growing pup before they can become a reason for Mizuki to take him away.

He has a responsibility to his pup—to Naruto. He has a responsibility to his pack—not just Mizuki.

“You… Naruto, you know I love you and wouldn’t trade you for anything?”

“Yeah?? Ka-chan, what—?”

“Your sibling,” Iruka sniffs, “they can’t… I can’t. Naruto, ‘terminate’ means ‘to stop’. We’re here today so that we can stop my pregnancy.”

Naruto looks up at him and asks, “Is this because of what Mizuki-nii was saying last night? Because Kaka-nii would never let him take you away, I know that!”

Iruka smiles thinly at Naruto, brushes back his bangs. “Mizuki has a right to the pup, as their sire. And if he wanted to bond and leave the pack to raise his pup, I can be compelled to go with him.”

Naruto hugs him tighter. “And so you want to stop being pregnant so Mizuki-nii can’t take you away?”

Iruka nods. “I have other reasons, but yes.”

“What’s going to happen to the baby?”

“They… They’re going to be removed from my body, and won’t become a part of our pack.”

“But if they’re removed, then… then, they’ll die?”

“Naruto, they’re not really alive right now. And something that’s not alive can’t die.”

“But—”

“Naruto, what we’re stopping is the eventuality of a new pup. It’s. It’s a hard choice, but one I’m very sure about making.”

“That’s not—” Naruto buries his face into Iruka’s belly and murmurs something, muffled against Iruka’s shirt.

“What?”

Naruto lifts his head and cries, “I don’t want my little sibling to grow up in a bad pack! You’re making the right choice; but can I get another chance at being a big brother someday??”

Iruka kneels down and kisses Naruto’s forehead. “Of course, Naruto. You’ll be the best big brother ever, when the pack is ready to give you one, okay?” Naruto nods rapidly, and Iruka hugs him closer still. “I just hope the rest of the pack will understand someday.”

“If they don’t,” Naruto frowns, “then we leave the pack and start our own. We don’t need people who don’t care about you, Ka-chan.”

A knock sounds at the door and Iruka clears his throat. “Sorry, I’m not ready yet.”

“That’s alright, Umino-sensei. I’ll come back in another few minutes,” the nurse says through the door without opening.

Iruka smiles at Naruto and brushes his hair aside. “I have to get ready. Could you go and sit on one of those chairs and be good and patient?”

Naruto nods and sits down. Iruka gets ready for termination.

~

Later that night, Iruka tells the pack that he and Naruto had been out shopping and he tripped over and landed poorly onto his stomach, resulting in a miscarriage. His betas all cry over him—Gai-sensei, in particular, soaks through the fabric on Iruka’s shoulder. Anko and Tenzo-san both scent him in comfort and solidarity. The two alphas… Hatake-san looks upset, but asks to scent Iruka to ensure he’s alright; that they can always try again for another pup, but they can’t replace Iruka. Iruka accepts the scenting, and breathes in the alpha’s deep woodsy scent in return.

Mizuki is livid. He storms away to their bedroom without offering to scent Iruka. Iruka’s worried about what’s going to happen later that night…

And then, when he’s alone cleaning up after dinner, Hatake-san approaches him and asks to speak to him privately. Iruka dries off his hands and follows the alpha to the library, where they close the door and then Hatake-san asks, “Why did you lie to the pack?”

“I didn’t—”

“Iruka-sensei. Please. I could smell the lie on you,” Hatake-san holds up his hands. “I just want to know the truth, please?”

Iruka folds his arms across his chest. He aches everywhere—the procedure was invasive; he hadn’t wanted to take the pills to force a miscarriage in case Mizuki found out and threw the second dose away. “I elected to abort the pregnancy,” he says.

Hatake-san nods. “Alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

Iruka narrows his eyes. “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would I be? It’s your body. You know yourself better than I, and I trust your judgement. I wouldn’t have asked you to become my omega—my pack omega,” he quickly corrects himself, a light blush peeking over his mask, “if I didn’t trust you.”

He smiles softly. “Thank you,” Iruka says.

“Did you need a separate place to sleep tonight? I’ve heard that omegas tend to want to nest alone after a pregnancy loss, however it happens.”

“No, I’m alright.”

Hatake-san nods and takes a few steps closer. “Is it alright if I scent you again before you head to bed, then?”

“You’re one of my alphas,” Iruka says. “You don’t need to ask.”

“And yet, I’m asking.”

“I—” Iruka feels his own face heat up. Mizuki never asks to scent him… and neither do any of the betas. It’s… nice, to be asked. “Yes, please, Hatake-san.”

“We’re pack, Iruka-sensei. Please call me Kakashi.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Kakashi-san.” Iruka nods, holding out his wrists. “You may.”

[on-maars]

Find My Way Home (Back To You)

Alright I wrote a post Eddie Begins episode fic and I really hope you’ll like it :)

Read it on AO3

Eddie sighs and turns around for what might be the tenth time in the past two hours.

He can’t sleep. He can’t sleep without being back there again. He can’t sleep without stopping the nightmares. Not about the war. He’s had his fair share of night terrors about the war, but lately the nightmares have taken another direction. He doesn’t dream of being the target of a thousand snipers anymore. He dreams of that moment. He dreams of being back there again, buried in the ground, thirty feet of wet earth above him, trapped, without any way of getting back to his son, without any way of getting back to his family. It’s suffocating, and Eddie often wakes up soaking wet, his hair sticking to his forehead, his sheet drenched in sweat. Drenched in sweat, and tears. His tears.

He can’t sleep and he tried everything. Every method he can think of. Every method his mother used to teach him when he was scared and alone at night, suffering from insomnia. He tried some breathing exercises his therapist showed him the week before, tried taking a walk around the neighborhood to clear his head and take his mind off things, he tried reading a book and even went through some meditations videos on YouTube that Buck recommended to him a while back. But nothing is working. His mind keeps sending him back to that place. To the well.

Eddie turns around again and lets his eyes fall on his alarm clock as it reads 2:49am. Eddie sighs and presses his hands to his face, apprehending the 24 hours shift waiting for him in the early hours of the morning. Not necessarily because of the fatigue. After all it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie gets through an awfully long shift with the 118 with only a few hours of sleep in his system.

No, he’s only apprehending it because he knows, deep down, that he’s so far from being in the right state of mind to face the difficulties of his job. He feels more restless, more fidgety, less focused than usual. And if there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that the 118 is going to notice his mood swings. And if they notice, then he’s going to need to explain. Explain the extent of how messed-up he is in the head. Explain how the war still terrorized him sometimes at night. Explain how tight his throat is ever since he’s made it out of that well. And that’s a conversation he’s not ready to face.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling and gropes around in the dark until his right hand finds his phone. He knows scrolling mindlessly the news is only going to keep his brain more awake but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He unlocks his phone and frowns when he notices an unseen message from his sister in his inbox. The message is short, but it catches Eddie’s attention.

“Isn’t he your friend Buck?!”

There is a link just underneath it and when Eddie clicks on it, his breath catches in his throat and his heart starts pounding hard against his chest. It’s a video. A video of that day. A video of the rig, collapsing, and burying him under thirty feet of earth in the process. Only the video doesn’t show only that. It also shows his coworkers’ reaction. It also shows Buck.

Buck

Buck, who collapses on the ground and completely falls to pieces. Buck, who screams his name and starts digging the earth with his bare hands. Buck, who bursts into tears and whose face is contorted with fear, rage and pain. Eddie watches him as he continues calling out his name in agony, he watches him as Bobby needs to physically restrain him to stop him from digging, and Eddie swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the sight.

The scene is devastating, heartbreaking, and the last seconds of the video only shows Buck, sitting on the ground, his head down, tears rolling down his face, as the rain continues pouring down on him.

By the time Eddie finishes watching the video, his hands are shaking and the room is spinning. His whole body is tense, buzzing with a nervous energy and Eddie closes his eyes fiercely but he can’t get the images out of his head. How can he? How can he when he had to sit through and watch his best-friend having a complete breakdown in a video with more than a million views? How can he when until then, he was so far up his own ass not to notice that Buck was hurting too? Not to notice that he wasn't the only one who ended up traumatized by this day?

He sits back straight on his bed, and leans his back against the headboard, running both of his hands through his hair a few times, ignoring how his heart pulses in his head, making it hurt.

He takes his phone in his hand and gets up, stepping out of his room and going down the stairs until he reaches the living-room. Here, he lets himself fall on the couch, rubbing his temples with his fingers, his eyes closed. In vain. It’s no use. It’s no use trying to get his breathing back to normal while the only thing he really wants is to see his best-friend with his own two eyes and make sure he’s okay.

“Can you come over?” He sends. It’s short and vague, but Eddie knows Buck keeps his phone in sound mode at all times just in case this kind of emergencies come up.

But is it an emergency? Eddie asks himself as he brings his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. It’s not. Not really. But Buck’s answer still comes after just a few seconds.

“Be there in 15. You okay? Christopher?”

“We’re okay. Just need to see you.”

Eddie jumps out of the couch and starts pacing back and forth in the living-room, not knowing what to do with himself. He squats down and starts picking up every Lego bricks lying around on the carpet, on the coffee table under the sofa. Christopher was in the middle of building a (more than unstable) house before heading to bed and he seemed so tired from his school day Eddie didn’t have the heart to ask him to tidy. He’s in the middle of retrieving a brick which ended up under the carpet when he hears the distinct sound of someone opening the front door.

He whirls his head around and finds himself face to face with Buck who looks around the living-room in alarm, his eyes wide. His hair is disheveled and his shoes are mismatched and Eddie almost feels bad for waking him up in the middle of the night while they both have a 24 hours shift waiting for them in a few hours. His best-friend’s face softens when his eyes fall on him, and Eddie doesn’t waste any time to close the gap separating them and wrapping his arms around his neck to hold him close.

“Evan Buckley I swear to god you’re going to be the death of me.” He says, not thinking twice before burying his face in the crook of his best-friend’s neck. Buck seems taken aback for a few seconds, but he doesn’t question it and reciprocate the embrace with just as much vigor. “I’m sorry.” Eddie eventually says, grabbing his tee-shirt with his right hand.

“You’re sorry?” Buck repeats, his voiced filled with confusion. “About what?” He adds.

“God I’ve been so far up my own ass these past few days, haven’t I?” Eddie asks, taking a step back and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, following his gaze until he’s sure Buck looks at him in the eye. His best-friend seems reluctant at first, almost as if he already knows where the conversation is going, but then he finally meets his gaze and Eddie’s look is so intense and he’s watching him with so much attention something in his face just breaks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what, Eds?” Buck asks, but from the way his voice breaks, Eddie knows it’s just a way for him to try and take the conversation elsewhere.

“Buck.” Eddie says, and it’s a warning. We’re having that conversation whether you like it or not.

“Eddie, just- Don’t, alright?” Buck starts. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s all that matters.”

“I saw the video.” Eddie says, taking another step backwards until he sits on a kitchen chair, running his right hand through his hair.

“What video?” Buck says, his voice small, but sighs and looks down when Eddie maintains eye-contact. “Took you long enough.” He only adds, leaning against the fridge. “It was literally everywhere on the news. Big headlines too.” He says, letting out a humorless laugh.

“Buck-”

“But again, I’spose it’s fun to see a firefighter completely losing it after his best-friend has been buried thirty feet underground.” Buck cuts in, his voice hollow. “I guess it ‘entertains’ people just fine”

“Buck-” Eddie starts, but his friend is faster.

“As if I want to relive that moment, you know?” Buck goes on and his voice is louder now, more aggressive. “As if one time wasn’t enough.”

“Buck, I-”

“Eddie, you cut the damn line!” He exclaims and Eddie jumps with surprise at how raw and demanding his tone is. “You cut the damn line!” He repeats and a tear rolls down his left cheek. “And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I can’t even blame you for it! You wanted to save that kid… I mean, how can I blame you for wanting to save that kid, Eddie? I can’t. I would be a fucking hypocrite if I did, man. Cause I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed.”

“It doesn’t mean you can’t be mad.” Eddie says, keeping his eyes down, incapable of meeting his best-friend’s gaze. “It doesn’t mean you can’t be angry.” He adds. “Hell, I know I would be.”

“I just- Eddie, did you ever stop for a second to imagine what it was like for me? I was pulling you out Eds. I was pulling you out and then the weight was just- the weight was just gone. You were gone.” He says through gritted teeth and Eddie darts his eyes towards him for just a second, but that’s still enough time for him to see the expression of complete agony and pure heartbreak on his best-friend’s face. Eddie looks away just as fast and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“But that’s not even the worst part, oh no.” Buck goes on and Eddie knows this one is on a roll. He’s determined and he won’t stop until he got everything off his chest. “ Because then this damn rig just collapsed and I- I couldn’t get you out, I- You were… You were buried, Eds. You were buried and I swear to god I would have dug the whole thing with my bare hands if I had to.”

“I know you would’ve.” Eddie only says, staring at Buck, his eyes filled with the tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past fifteen minutes. “I know you would’ve.”

“I didn’t give up on you.” Buck answers, as if he’s trying to justify his actions in a courtroom. “You’ve got to know that, alright?” He repeats. “I didn’t give up on you. Even when people were trying to convince me that there was no way you would have survived that, I didn’t- I didn’t give up on you.”

“Hey, hey, I know.” Eddie instantly reassures him, getting up and closing the gap between them. “I know.” He repeats, cupping Buck’s cheeks with his hands. “You didn’t give up.”

“I didn’t give up.” Buck nods, his lips quivering.

“Buck, do you think- do you think I’m mad at you because you didn’t try hard enough?” Eddie manages to articulate, his fingers playing with the roots of Buck’s hair. “How could you have tried any harder?” Eddie adds, letting out a nervous laugh. “For Christ’s sake Evan, you told me yourself you were ready to dig the whole thing by hands. There’s nothing you could have done. You hear me?”

Buck frantically nods and Eddie sighs, wrapping his right arm around his neck to pull him forward. Buck’s whole body tenses and it’s only when his shoulders start shaking that Eddie realizes his best-friend is full-on sobbing against him, his tears wetting his white tee-shirt. Buck rests his forehead on his shoulder and Eddie simply runs his left hand through his hair while the other traces small patterns on his back, holding him tight. He presses his lips on his hair, closing his eyes fiercely for a few seconds while throwing his head backwards, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry.” Buck says against him. “Here I am again, making the whole thing about me while you’re the one who’ve been buried underground.”

“Don’t be stupid Buck, I’m the one who should apologize here. I was so focused on my pain and the nightmares that I-”

“Nightmares?” Buck whirls his head up to meet his eyes. “You have nightmares about the well?” He asks, his eyes full of concern, and Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah but that’s not the point, Buck.” He says, dismissing his concern with a hand’s gesture. “I should have seen you were hurting. I’m sorry.” He adds. “And yes I have nightmares but Buck you need to know you’re the only reason I got out. You and Christopher? I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Wouldn’t have done it. But I promised myself I’ll always find my way back home. So I did.”

Eddie cradles his chin with his left hand, forcing him to look up.

“That… That was sappy as hell, man.” Buck tries and Eddie snorts, placing his hand on his cheek to make him look away.

“Says the one who was ready to dig thirty feet of wet earth with his bare hands.” He says playfully and then Buck does this thing again where he looks down with a shy smile and Eddie’s heart just melts at the sight.

When Buck lifts his gaze again, their lips are only separated by a few inches of space and Eddie’s head is spinning. He stays there, motionless, not knowing whether he should finally gives in to years of pining and unresolved tension. But then, Buck’s eyes dart towards his lips and all his good sense goes up in smoke. Eddie looks at him for permission and when Buck nods, he places his hand on the back of his neck and presses their lips together. It doesn’t last long. It’s brief, and when Eddie takes a step back, Buck’s lips chase his own a second time and he only smiles and complies happily.

This time, the kiss is more heated and Buck’s hands find their way on the back of Eddie’s neck, biting his lower lip to demand access to his mouth. Eddie smiles against his mouth and runs both of his hands through his hair, bringing him closer. This earns him a small whimper from Buck and Eddie only kisses him harder, pressing his best-friend’s body against the fridge and sliding his hand underneath his tee-shirt.

“God I can’t believe we waited three years to do that.” Buck says Eddie huffs out a laugh against his lips.

“Well I mean you were a bit slow on the uptake.” Eddie teases him.

“Oh fuck off.” Buck taps him on the head playfully. “You know I couldn’t just- I had to be sure.”

“I know.” Eddie says, his voice soft.

“I couldn’t do the first move. I had to wait for… I had to wait for you to do it. Even if I knew that you- because I knew. Of course I knew. But-”

“Hey.” Eddie cuts him off by cupping his cheeks with his hands. “I know.” He repeats. “Alright then Evan. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Lead the way, Edmundo.”

“Not my name.” Eddie says with a smile, taking his hand in his to guide him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry. Eduardo.”

“Still not my name, man."

"Diaz?"

"That's it, you’re sleeping on the damn couch, Buckley.” Eddie warns but the smile on his face betrays him.

“Really? You would make me sleep on the couch? The guy who was ready to dig 30 feet of wet earth with his bare han-”

“Oh my god will you shut up?” Eddie whispers loudly, being careful not to wake up Christopher fast asleep in the adjoining room.

“Make me.” Buck says, a hint of amusement in his voice and Eddie?

Well Eddie wastes no time to crash their lips together another time.

[guessimabasicnerdgirlnow]

Personal dump below

Cw for health issues, fatphobia, ed

I never talked about this to anyone openly and I don’t feel like anyone I have in my life rn would understand it, and I think writing this down may help me cope with it

As you all know, I am autistic and I have food issues that just… it’s bad. Actually when I first read about arfid, I felt for the first time like I was not the only defective human made like this. I’m not sure if what I have is arfid, because I’m 99% it’s an effect of my sensory issues, and idk if it enters the criteria or not. But naming aside, I have a hard time when it comes to food because most of it looks or smells disgusting to me, or just gives me a bad reaction. Used to gag and even throw up just from being forced to sit at a dinner table. I didn’t get an autism diagnosis until a couple years ago so growing up, I got a lot of shit from about everyone I know. No one really gets it, and I didn’t get it either, so I used to believe I deserved it. I will probably forever be unable to look at the faces of some people and not remember the stuff they said to me, or about me, or about my parents who didn’t force me to eat

Really, this is a huge deal for me. It’s a big part of who I am, a part I hated so much for so long and never could change, and that I want to learn to accept. I know now that there’s probably something about my body or my brain that makes stuff not feel the same way as most people and thinking like this makes it feel silly that it was such a big trouble but I used to avoid going to parties and stuff, it together with other stuff made my parents not let me visit my friends and stuff as a kid, and I already have other issues when it comes to creating relationships and it didn’t help at all. I used to believe I could never get married because any husband would want me to cook for him (loool) and that I shouldn’t have children because I couldn’t teach them how to eat healthly, and that I could not pursue my dreams of living abroad because I would be unable to find anything to eat there (I can happily say I got to spend a year in my dream land, and yes, eating was an issue but no, I didn’t starve to death there)

But things can’t be as simple as just me having to learn to accept myself as I am. No. You see, I can only eat a few types of food, mostly breakfast food. Cheese, bread. I eat so many variations of cheese and bread. No meat. No greens. Not much fruit, but then there are other factors here as I can eat some, I just end up not eating much. Whatever you know of Brazilian cuisine is probably a nope for me, which is what makes so many parties very unpleasant for me. I know I don’t eat healthly. Adults told me all the time when I was younger, in an attempt to make me change how I eat. I have never been thin and PE was a nightmare. But as a kid, magically I never had any big health issues. I passed all my blood tests. Doctors hated me /jk

Now that I’m adult things started catching up. This last couple of years studying from home didn’t help, as I stoped walking longer distances than from my bed to the couch. It’s not as bad as it could be, I know, I could be deficient in so many nutrients. I haven’t even had a kidney stone in years. But it scares me. Because the still minor, but unlikely to go away on their own, issues I’m having are all usually related to being overweight, I’m sure my doctor will tell me to diet and exercise and lose weight. I can exercise, I hate it but I can do it, but changing my diet is much more difficult, I just can’t eat a lot of stuff that would be good for me, and because I don’t have many options left I can’t stop eating some stuff that is bed for me. I’m mentally preparing to say it to her because I want her to give me all the options I have, and I don’t want any more thinking that something I didn’t choose and can’t change is my fault, laziness, or me being spoiled, or all those other things I grew up hearing

But what if I’m wrong? What if I can change, and I just read some pieces online and clung to the idea that I can’t because it’s easier? I can’t stop thinking about it, doubting myself

And none of it is the worst. I’m no expert on anything but I think my personal relationship with food entered a new, terrifying chapter. I mentioned living abroad, right? That was my first time away from my parents, who despite their flaws haven’t pressured me into changing for years. I wasn’t fluent in the language, so at first I tagged along some girls from my dorm, and predictably they didn’t understand this stuff and I didn’t understand it enough to explain myself and so every day it was like. They picked a restaurant. There was nothing I ate there. I said I was fine, drank something, bought some snacks somewhere. After a week I was feeling dizzy and realized that couldn’t go on. I managed to prioritize my well being after that but it set a terrible precedent. Once in a while I would buy something new to try and if I couldn’t eat it, I just gave up and stayed hungry. Or I skipped meals because I wanted to save money, or because executive disfunction didn’t let me leave my bed, or I didn’t find anything I could eat. I lost a lot of weight, I have never been thinner (though that was partially due to having no car and walking/taking trains everywhere, which is a good thing that I miss). And I don’t think I was any healthier, because I ate sweets for lunch and bought as sort of snacks as rewards to myself. I think I ate worse, but less and did exercise, and just one of these is a good thing.

Skipping meals has become a thing I go back to sometimes since then. Since I live with my parents, my mother seems to have noticed, so she makes sure to ask me what I ate, or even leave food ready for me. I have lied before. Or not corrected her when she assumes I ate. Last week she jokingly asked to see a picture. I have also pretended to be sick to skip meals. I’m not sure why all this. Sometimes it’s executive disfunction I guess. I do eat more when she leaves stuff ready for me than when I have to prepare it myself. Sometimes nothing seems good. I have had body image issues at some points of my life, of course, and I would be lying if I said I am happy about my body rn (it bothers me a lot when clothes don’t fit anymore) but I don’t think a lot about my appearance because. You know it’s not like I look at myself often. My relationship with my appearance *is* another can of worms, so I just try not to think about it. And tbh sometimes I eat stuff that I don’t even like, but that I’m glad that is at least edible (compared to most things) so I just suck it up and eat. My “yes” list is very small and my “nope” list is huge, so when something falls on “maybe” I treat it like a yes. But I don’t like the stuff, and I think sometimes I want to avoid eating it so I don’t eat anything. I still didn’t figure out if I may be doing it sometimes to hurt myself somehow.

I’m afraid of getting worse because I found out the issue in the exam I did today, and I felt guilty about eating anything after learning it

I’m afraid of doing nothing and those health issues getting worse, and I’m afraid of taking the wrong approach and ending up with some eating disorder. I am afraid into turning this into something about being fat or thin and mixing it with the issues I already have with my appearance. I am afraid of the fact that I can’t eat healthly, I may be able to do better than what I’m doing but I don’t think it will ever be good, and I hate it so much that I’m afraid it will turn into me hating myself (more than I usually do for other reasons). I am currently treating my depression and I am doing better than when I started but I am afraid of all this shit sending me into a downward spiral. I have had days in which I thought about suicide, it never escalated to more than just thoughts, but even just that is something I don’t want to face again

Wow, that’s a lot. If anyone read it so far, thank you for your time and care. Don’t feel obligated to reach out to me. I wrote this as a way of figuring my own feelings and to try and make it easier to bring my concerns to my doctor, my therapist, and maybe my mother. Like I said I am treating my depression and rationally I know that even if it gets worse, there’s no reason to believe we can’t make it better again. Also, my parents, and everyone really, even those who used to say mean stuff to and about me, everyone is much more supportive now that I have an autism diagnosis. They didn’t know any better when they said those things, and neither did I. Yes, it still hurt, it still does hurt, but I sincerely believe their views on me changed with the diagnosis and that they realized things they didn’t know. And with the knowledge I have now, I can educate them on it too. You know, I used to be so ashamed of touching this subject and look at me now, posting on my blog. I can make jokes about my restricted diet and my sensory issues and it doesn’t hurt anymore because I know that I am not a defective human.

(This last paragraph was so important to write. To remind me that no matter how scared I am, I am not alone and I am not helpless. I think I am doing well in learning the therapy mindset 🧐)

[threeletterslife]

Propinquity (Law of Seesaw)

→ [6/7] of the Glossary Series

→ summary: You first meet him on a seesaw. What a surprise, your relationship with him is exactly like that of a seesaw too—there are ceaseless ups and downs. So much so that you wonder when it’ll end. 

→ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 50% fluff, 33% angst, 17% crack | e2l!au

→ warnings: profanity, mean insults

→ wordcount: 9.2k

♫: Seesaw by BTS

You can't remember the last time you've gone a week without fighting.

There is always a new problem that arises. A new argument that is sparked from the depths of trivial problems. Then Yoongi stops talking to you for a day (or days if the fight is serious) and sleeps downstairs on the couch until he wants to crawl back to you and apologize. Other times, you're the one who has to drag yourself to your boyfriend's study with a plate of his favorite fruit and an apology in your head.

But it seems like the fighting never ends.

Now the bed feels cold. It is empty. Just like you.

You know that Yoongi's downstairs, either working with his new client (through the dead of the night) or already sleeping on the small couch. Though you're supposed to be mad at him, you worry. The couch isn't good for his already deteriorating posture. But you can't nag at him now. It'll result in more arguments.

When was the last time you and Yoongi didn't fight, though?

The correct answer is never.

From day one, you and Yoongi were destined enemies.

"Hi." You're a proud little child, standing up straight with your hands on your hips. A bit chubby and round in the middle but you flaunt the extra weight. "My mommy says I need to make friends before kindergarten starts."

"My mommy says not to talk to strangers." The young boy peeks at you through his shaggy black hair. He rocks the paint-nicked seesaw by himself, kicking his feet off the ground only to come back down with a light oof.

"I'm not a stranger," you scoff, crossing your hands over your chest. "Let me play on the seesaw!"

Yoongi doesn't even have time to answer because you're crawling up on the opposite side already. "H-Hey!" he yells but he's too late. The moment you innocently perch upon the seesaw, you’re slammed to the ground and Yoongi's lifted up high in the air.

Ah, the weight difference.

"GET ME OFF!" Yoongi screams. "GET ME OFF!!"

Your eyes turn wide. You hadn't meant to scare the boy. You thought everyone wanted to fly up in the air, and you were just granting the little boy's wish. In your head, you didn't even think of the possibility that Yoongi is afraid of heights. (Which was stupid of him to even try playing on the seesaw in the first place.)

"GET OFF!" Yoongi yells viciously at you. His face has turned a bright shade of pink and purple.

You think he looks like he's about to suffocate.

"I'M SORRY!" you shriek as you dive off the seesaw.

Yoongi lets out a high-pitched, ear-piercing scream as he subsequently flings off the seesaw. He lands on his butt several centimeters away from the rusty playground equipment and bursts out crying.

You gasp. Oh no. This was bad. Very, very bad. So you do the first thing that comes to your head: run away.

The boy's cries become louder and louder as you sprint in the opposite direction, but you grit your teeth and dash on. Eventually, your guilt for throwing off a boy from the playground seesaw dissipates when your mother buys you ice cream for lunch. Food is always the solution.

You have no idea that day you accidentally made a little boy cry was the day you met your future boyfriend. You just thought you met a crybaby coward.

And he thought he met the devil. If the devil was a chubby little girl with chipmunk cheeks and rolls on her arms.

You two had no idea you would meet again.

So far, the first day of kindergarten isn't going so great. All the other girls brought their barbies to class. You brought your stuffed animal snake—Mr. Slithers.

And now the other girls don't really like you. Because "snakes are icky!" Their words, not yours.

If they only knew this week was a rainforest theme in your head. Every day of the week, you would prepare to bring a new stuffed animal that lived in the rainforest. Today would be the green snake, then tomorrow, the tree frog and so on. But no one applauds your genius planning skills.

So you mope around for half of the day. The girls are playing princesses with their stupid barbies and they won't let you join because a snake cannot wear a ball gown.

You end up poking at the seesaw in the kindergarten playground. It's boring when there's no one else to sit on the other side. Mr. Slithers isn't heavy enough to seesaw with you either. You want your mommy.

"You!" a high-pitched voice shrieks.

Jumping, you whip your head around to see the little boy. No. The same little boy who you accidentally flung backward on the seesaw.

"Are you gonna throw me off the seesaw again?" he yells. For such a skinny little boy he has quite a loud voice.

"I didn't mean it!" you yell back.

"You need to apologize to me!"

"No!"

You run away again.

And just like a real big stupidhead, Yoongi tattletales on you to the kindergarten teacher, Mr. Kim. In your defense, you didn't even do anything to Yoongi at kindergarten, so Mr. Kim can't make you apologize to stupid Min Yoongi.

Mr. Kim agrees with your defense. But he doesn't approve of you using the word, stupid, so you have to apologize to Yoongi anyways. While you're positively livid, Yoongi is triumphant.

That is only the start of the rivalry.

In first grade, Yoongi calls you fat.

You aren't normally one to waste your time tattling to the adults, but Yoongi did it to you in kindergarten so it only feels right to get revenge. But apparently calling someone fat is much worse than calling someone stupid. Yoongi has to apologize to you and he has to sit in the time out corner. He also gets a call home so his parents are notified of his bad behavior.

In second grade, you start losing weight. Not because Yoongi called you fat. But because you figured you should start exercising to be as healthy as your gym rat parents. When you tell the second-grade class you want to become a football star and you've planned out your whole athletic pathway, Yoongi is the first one to rudely laugh at you. So you make sure to boo his presentation when he brags about writing a whole book by himself (it's called Dot Goes to School—pretty mediocre stuff). Both of you have your recess privileges taken away.

Staying in for recess with someone you absolutely despise is not worth the satisfaction you got from teasing them. So you and Yoongi become more discreet in your never-ending ways to spite each other.

In third grade, Yoongi calls you a stick during recess. He makes sure to say it loud enough so you can hear his insult but not as loud so the playground monitor doesn't hear. Sneaky brat. You turn to him with flashing eyes and tell him very upfrontly, "Says you."

The rivalry still exists in fourth grade, when both of you feel like you're too old to play on the playground. The seesaw incident is still ingrained in the backs of both of your heads, though. So even when you and Yoongi have your separate groups of friends, you still manage to be mean to each other.

For instance, the day before the annual fourth-grade square dance, you and your new group of friends spread a rumor that Yoongi has cooties. As a result, no one wants to be his partner the next day.

But then your partner, that brat, Park Jimin calls in sick on D-Day and so your plan backfires in your face. You dance with Yoongi. And now you have cooties too.

In fifth grade, girls are starting to talk about boys during recess. When the shy, cute Gayoung confesses her crush on Min Yoongi, you have to excuse yourself from the friend group. Instead, you go out on the fields to play soccer with the guys. Thankfully, cooties are 'for babies' in fifth grade, so you have free reign with the boys.

Park Jimin confesses he likes you in sixth grade. He tells you that you are pretty. But his confession was definitely not in your schedule. You're supposed to go to swim practice in five minutes. So you wave him off. Not because you hate him. But let's face it. The boy ditched you in fourth grade and you had to dance with Yoongi. Plus, now Jimin's Yoongi's friend. There is no way in hell you are going to butt noses with Yoongi's friend.

The whole grade goes in an uproar when they find out you rejected Jimin. You couldn't care less.

Seventh grade is weird. You finally get your period. And the new sex-ed class collectively makes everyone embarrassed. It also starts the influx of period jokes from yours truly, the boys. Whenever a girl is in a bad mood, the boys yell, "YOU MUST BE ON YOUR PERIOD!" You make note of every guy who says this. Then the second time they yell that to a poor girl, you hold up a tampon with ketchup on it. It shuts them up so well that all the girls in your grade start to carry around tampons and ketchup packets.

Surprisingly enough, Yoongi isn't part of the rowdy group of boys who make insulting period jokes. He's gotten much quieter over the years (middle school must've brought some sort of maturity on him), but he still finds ways to make your life miserable.

When there are rumors that Jimin will ask you out to the Halloween dance, you actually prepare to accept—maybe just to spite Yoongi. But turns out the whole rumor was a lie made up by the boy you despise. So you're rendered embarrassed.

In eighth grade, to your surprise, Gayoung asks Yoongi out. Of course, Yoongi would say yes. He knows you hate Gayoung. She had grown ample boobs and fit in with the popular girls who talked about boy bands and got dress-coded every day. You have no idea why such a popular girl would ask out a nerdy, rat-faced boy. But apparently, Yoongi is conventionally handsome. What a load of bullcrap.

It irks you even more when they become a revolutionary couple—the first time a girl has asked out a boy.

You make a bet with your friends that the couple won't last a week. Your wallet cries that year. You lose nearly ₩30,000.

By tenth grade, they are still dating.

You're starting to wonder if Yoongi somehow got his grubby hands on a love potion. There's just no way that whiny asshole can keep a girlfriend for that long. But according to your friend who is friends with the friends of the friends of Gayoung's friends, Yoongi is a good boyfriend. You want to gut yourself after hearing that.

Gayoung is always bragging about how Yoongi buys her flowers before class, and she makes sure everyone knows of this by posting pictures of the aromatic bouquets on Instagram. Yoongi often writes her little love poems and short stories, and though you're 100% sure Gayoung doesn't read them, she posts those online too. God, she is so annoying that you unfollow her. (You've blocked Yoongi's account a long time ago.)

For the most part, though, when hating Yoongi is not on your mind, your life is pretty normal. And you're definitely content. You and a sporty transfer student from America, Jungkook, have hit it off. It's fun taking him around everywhere to taste test all the convenience stores in Korea.

Until the day you catch Jimin and Gayoung lip-locking behind your favorite kimbap store. You and Jungkook look at each other with wide eyes. Before Jungkook can stop you, you snap a quick picture of the action and run away, tugging your friend along with you.

"Dude, you should delete that picture," Jungkook says for the billionth time.

"No can do," you tell him. "I'm sending it to Yoongi."

"To spite him?"

"Duh."

"Aren't you helping him by telling him his girlfriend is a cheater?" Jungkook challenges.

You squint. "You're actually right, Kook. Then I won't tell him."

"Isn't that a little bit too mean?"

"What??"

"I mean, they've been dating since eighth grade. It's been nearly two years, right?" Jungkook points out. "I think Yoongi deserves to know."

"Don't you dare!" you gasp.

"Sorry, Y/N," Jungkook shrugs. "It's just the right thing to do."

Two days later, Gayoung comes to school wearing not the school uniform but a short skirt and tight shirt. Her arm slings around Jimin, her apparent new boyfriend. Yoongi is nowhere to be seen.

Rumor travels around fast. And they're all accurate for the most part.

But it's not very satisfying to see Yoongi missing from all the action. The whole school day, you wonder where the fuck the boy is. Maybe he's crying his guts out. You've never experienced heartbreak before, so you're not sure if you have the right to say Yoongi necessarily deserves it. You can say though, that he had it coming. After all, all those years he teased you, he hadn't felt a single bit of remorse.

Sucks for him.

It's dark by the time you begin to walk home from school. You'd stayed late to brush up on your horrible chemistry skills so you wouldn't completely fail the final test. On the walk back, you notice the familiar playground. You'd grown up with that thing. But it's been a while since you've cared enough to stare at it.

Usually, the rusty old playground is empty. But today, a figure sits in the shadows. More specifically on the seesaw.

It brings back memories. That had been the same seesaw that had started your rivalry with Min Yoongi. And someone's sitting on it.

You squint, your curiosity getting the better of you as you creep towards the figure. Oh god. Once you see the outline of the person, you know this isn't going to be a very fun experience. Ew, you think. Gross.

But that's until it occurs to you that the person is crying.

Holding your breath, you walk closer to the crying boy. He's shaking, hands covering his face. The other side of the seesaw is up in the air.

He's crying about Gayoung, you realize.

You breathe out. "Need someone to sit down to fling you out again?"

Yoongi jumps. He hiccups. Then he quickly wipes away the tears streaming down his face. "Shut up."

You grin, sitting down on the other side of the seesaw. And this time, neither of you fling off. It is completely balanced.

"What are you doing here?" Yoongi croaks when he realizes you're not going to be leaving any time soon. He sniffles, but for the most part, he hides the fact that he'd been crying very expertly.

"I dunno." You shrug. "What are you doing here?" When there's a pause, you add, "I didn't see you in school."

"Oh, didn't know you cared."

"I don't."

"Figured."

"Did you break up with Gayoung?"

Yoongi laughs scornfully. "No. She broke up with me."

"Yikes, really?"

"What is your deal, Y/N?" Yoongi sighs. "Are you going to laugh in my face? Tell me I deserve this?"

"Not anymore..." you grumble. "Because now there's no element of surprise."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I reckon you spread the rumor?"

"...The rumor?"

"Yeah, the fucking rumor!" Yoongi shouts, throwing up his hands. "You're the one who told everyone Gayoung was cheating on me!"

"Woah, there! I didn't say anything about it!" you yell. "It's not my fault your ex decided to hook up with Jimin!"

"What??"

"Here! I have the fucking receipts!" You whip out your phone, aggressively swiping through your photos before landing on the exact one you were looking for. When you show Yoongi, his eyes turn wide but his posture deflates. He looks defeated.

"She actually cheated...?"

The way he says it with wide eyes and a slumped attitude makes you feel a tiny bit of pity. But the habit of being mean to Yoongi sticks.

"I'm not even surprised."

Yoongi glares at you.

"I mean," you say with an innocent shrug, "she's been eyeing other guys since you started dating her."

"I know..."

You are not about to show sympathy to Min Yoongi. You are not going to let down your guard. You are going to stay cold and emotionless—

"I'm... uh... I... er, I guess I'm sorry."

Yoongi lifts an eyebrow. "Why are you sorry?"

"Well, it just seemed like you really liked her—"

"Nah."

"Oh?"

"This is going to sound very stupid."

"Try me." You grin. "In my eyes, you always sound stupid. Remember? I got in trouble for calling you stupid in kindergarten."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "How could I forget?" He grips the seesaw handles. "I don't think I've ever really liked Gayoung."

"Damn, this is tea," you gasp. "Why bother dating her for so long, then?"

"Ha!" Yoongi laughs. "Good question, Y/N. I don't know," he says sarcastically. "I was probably trying to piss you off. Didn't think it'd last that long."

"Oh??" You raise your eyebrows. "But didn't I just see you cry over Gayoung?"

"Er—"

You definitely caught him in a lie. Though it's dark, you can imagine Yoongi flushing a bright shade of pink—he does that when he's guilty. Not that you cared enough to notice over the years.

"It's okay she's with Jimin now. Not your problem."

"Is this your half-assed attempt of trying to solace me?"

"No?" You make a face. "Why on earth would you think I'm trying to solace you, Yoongi? You called me fat in first grade."

"I see you still hold grudges."

"Oh, that's really my only talent," you snort.

"Aren't you a really good planner?"

"Me?" Is this a compliment you hear?—and from the Min Yoongi?

"Yeah, you're going to plan the graduation ceremony, right? They hand-picked you from the student council, didn't they?"

"Well, uh, yeah." You raise your eyebrows in both surprise and suspicion. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't."

Of course.

"Okay, fine by me."

"Why are you even here again?"

You pause. Actually, why are you here? You could've just simply walked away and never had this conversation with Yoongi. But you'd stopped. And now you're talking with him. You answer him truthfully. "I really have no idea."

Another pause.

"Are you gonna ask me to leave?"

"... No."

"Oh." You cock your head. "Okay."

The two of you stare at each other. A staring game commences.

But Yoongi blinks first, claiming you the victor of the little contest. "You can stay if you want."

You scoff. "Excuse me, I didn't know I needed your permission."

Yoongi throws his hands up in the air. "Do you always have to fucking pick a fight?"

"You're the one who starts them!"

"I didn't even say anything mildly rude."

Okay, he might kind of have a point. Maybe all those years of hating him have ingrained permanent hatred in your head, so whatever comes out of Yoongi's mouth seems like an insult that you have to respond to with equal rudeness by reflex.

"Where did we even go wrong?" you sigh, rubbing your forehead.

Yoongi snorts. "Literally right here. On this seesaw."

"You're right," you laugh. This is probably the first time you and Yoongi have agreed on something; it's a foreign feeling that doesn't quite settle right in your stomach.

"Remember when Jimin had a crush on you?"

"Oh stop—" Just one single sentence brings back so many memories.

"Now he's downgraded to girls like Gayoung," Yoongi snorts.

"Oh?" A wide smile stretches across your lips. "Are you saying I'm an upgrade compared to that vile girl?"

"When you put it that way, I'm not so sure."

In any other circumstance, you'd think Yoongi's attacking you again, putting up another unnecessary fight. But right now, it's obvious he's just teasing you.

"Let's face it, Yoongi. I'm better than your ex, aren't I?" you tease right back.

"Barely," he grumbles, but he mumbles under his breath, "but yes."

Thankfully, your owl ears pick up the last part and you grin haughtily. "That's all I needed to hear." Just by habit, you glance down at your watch, frowning when it reads a little past 10 p.m. You're definitely behind schedule right now. Strangely, though, it's kind of worth it, talking to your self-proclaimed nemesis without ripping each other apart with moderately hurtful words.

Yoongi takes notice of you checking the time. Always the same, he thinks. He can't remember the last time he saw you without a watch.

"Anyways... it's getting kind of late..." you say. But you're careful not to stand up from the seesaw—just in case you'll accidentally fling Yoongi off again.

Yoongi nods in agreement. "Yeah." But what he hears next is beyond what he would've ever thought would come out of your mouth next.

"Wanna get some cup ramen? I know a good convenience store nearby."

"With me??" The words slip out of Yoongi's mouth before he can maintain his stoic, chilled composure.

"Why not?" You shrug. "Maybe tonight's the night we can finally stop fighting and act civil for once."

"I am getting tired of the back and forth bickering," Yoongi admits. "Not a bad idea, Y/N."

"I come up with genius ideas once in a while." You flip your hair back and grin. "We just can't stay out before 12 because I need to plan my friend's birthday party before 1."

"I'll get you home by then."

"You're going to walk me home? How boyfriendly."

"It's a habit," Yoongi grumbles.

"A good habit. Keep it up, Min," you laugh. "Then you'll get a new girl in no time."

The two of you count to three before carefully getting off the seesaw together. There are no accidents this time. Everything seems... balanced.

The most what the fuck moment in your life comes when you wake up one morning and realize the person you text and hang out the most is, indeed, Yoongi. Months ago, the thought of him made your blood boil. Now, he's just a friend—a very close friend, too.

Entering eleventh grade with Yoongi by your side is weird. Every other school year, the two of you tried to stay away from each other as much as possible. Yet this year, it's the complete opposite. The two of you solace each other. Even if that involves heavy teasing and harsh verbal exchanges.

"You idiot!" Yoongi shrieks. "And you just let her get away with it?"

"Why yes, why yes I did!" you scream in your shrill voice that makes Yoongi almost flinch back. "What was I supposed to do? Yell at her and tell her I deserved to be class president and not her? Tell her to her face that she cheated the votes?"

"Yes?!"

"Well, I didn't have the guts!"

"Why do you always run away from your fucking problems?"

Yoongi's words pierce through your heart and suck up your anger, replacing it with regret. He’s right though. When something doesn't go the way you planned, you have a habit of ditching. You're afraid of the consequences that will follow when you freestyle everything. And Yoongi knows this.

"I-I... I just... It's easier," you sigh, slumping over your desk seat. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Fight back maybe?" Yoongi's tone is softer after he sees you become dispirited. "I mean, hey, you win some, you lose some."

"I know... I just feel like I'm always losing these days."

"It's okay," Yoongi says. His big hands awkwardly pat at your back. And as funny as it is that he's attempting to comfort you, you're actually well comforted. "Doesn't matter whether you win or lose. What matters is the experience."

"Wise words."

"Well, I'm a wise person." Yoongi gives you a shit-eating grin.

"Oh god."

Sometimes, Yoongi's the one who breaks down, though it's not as often as you do. But once the storm comes, it's hard to make it leave.

"Please don't talk to me right now."

"But Yoongi," you plead, knocking on the door to his room. "I had to practically beg your parents to let me in!" you whisper angrily. "Come on, open the damn door!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you want me to break the door down??"

Silence follows and a small click indicates that the locked door is now open. You carefully turn the knob and push. Yoongi faces you immediately and the way his eyes are red and his cheeks are wet is indicative of a beforehand hysterical crying session.

"Oh, Yoongi..."

"I said I don't want to talk about it," he mutters. But you know he's just saying that because talking about it will make him cry again. You know him too well.

You pull him into a hug. "Maybe music isn't for you," you say. "It's okay if you failed that path. There are many more to take."

He's silent, squeezing you tightly. But you don't mind the silence at all. It's more peaceful that way, and you know he's actually listening to you when he's not talking.

"You're good at writing aren't you?" you whisper, patting his back. "Maybe that's your path. And if it isn't, so what? Poke at every pathway until you find one that's just right for you."

It's advice for yourself as well. Yoongi's upset that he was rejected from a music audition he was preparing to pass for years; he knew he wanted to pursue music and he did it, though it might not have been very successful. You, on the other hand, have no idea what you want to do in the future.

"I guess we both have to start on new paths now, right?"

By twelfth grade, you and Yoongi are beginning to bicker like a married couple. At least, that's what Jungkook says.

"For the last time, we do not sound married!"

Jungkook rests his head on the palm of his hand. "Sure. Sure."

"The thought of even being romantically interested in Y/N gives me goosebumps," Yoongi snorts.

"But the good kind of goosebumps if you know what I'm talking about," Jungkook says. He wiggles his eyebrows in such a suggestive way that you mock vomit.

"Okay, gross," you groan. "The day I catch feelings for Yoongi is the day the whole world will end."

"Um, right back at you," Yoongi frowns. "Don't worry," he says, giving you a cocky grin. "I'm very repulsive. You'll never catch feelings for me."

"We'll see about that," Jungkook snickers.

Every year, Yoongi writes you a birthday letter. Even now, in college, he manages to find time to make the same effort he's made for the past two years. Every year, he somehow makes you cry with his elaborate words. And every year, Yoongi films it because he's a little shit.

This year though, the tone of the letter is much, much sweeter than you expected. Almost as if it's a love serenade and not a platonic letter to your best friend. The writing is elaborately flourished and fluffed up to the point it sounds like a love poem. And you swear Yoongi spritzed perfume on the envelope because the letter smells (shockingly) amazing. The message itself doesn't make you cry. Instead, after you finish reading it, you stare up at Yoongi's camera in shock, jaw dropped open but no words coming out of your mouth. Yoongi seems to like that reaction a lot, and he even zooms up on your dumbstruck face to make fun of it later.

He'd written ten things he loves about you. And it drove you crazy that you didn't know whether it was platonic or romantic.

Love, Yoongi. He'd signed the letter. Not the usual, From your bestest motherfucking greatest friend, Yoongi.

What the fuck did 'Love, Yoongi' even mean??

And it happens so that the two of you fight about it later on.

"This year's birthday video is the best one yet," Yoongi laughs as he tries to turn the camera around to show you the screen.

You jerk away, frowning. "That is not funny."

"Why? Didn't like my letter this year?" He's teasing you but you're annoyed.

"It was different."

"A good different?" Yoongi nudges your shoulder, a smug smirk plastered on his lips.

"Literally, please, stop. Before I wipe that smirk off your face."

"Okay, okay," Yoongi sighs, raising up his hands in defense. "I bet you're just salty you can't name ten things you love about me."

"You're right, right now, I can name zero things," you scoff.

"Liar. You wouldn't have stuck by my side for this long if you didn't love me."

The fact that he's right makes it more irritating.

"Fine. One. You're an asshole—"

"Come on, is that really a reason?" Yoongi laughs. "This isn't ten things you hate about me, you know."

"Hear me out. You're a certain species of asshole that I find slightly more bearable than any other asshole," you say. "I think you're a tolerable asshole. It's a compliment."

"Thanks?"

"Two. You're an idiot—"

"Is this how the rest of the reasons gonna go?" Yoongi scoffs incredulously. "My letter was heartfelt at least!"

"No, but you're a bearable idiot. The kind that irks your strings just enough to make you pissed but not enough to make you explode. No idiot is tolerable but at least once in a million years you give good advice." You shrug as Yoongi shakes his head in denial.

"I always give good advice."

You roll your eyes. "Three. You're not very good looking—"

"I shouldn't even have asked," Yoongi grumbles. "Why did I fucking bother?"

"No, but you're not ugly. Isn't that good news?" you giggle as Yoongi just shakes his head at you. "It's perfect! That way, you attract people with your personality and not your looks! It's a compliment," you add when Yoongi glares at you.

"Whatever," he says.

"Four!" you say triumphantly. "You are drama-free. Except with me. But I'm an exception because I'm special."

"You got that right," Yoongi mutters underneath his breath. "What about five?" Compared to a minute ago, he looks more interested in your list now.

"Five? Well, you're genuine," you say nodding your head. "You wouldn't let me walk around with an eyelash on my face or spinach stuck between my teeth."

"Yeah 'cause you'd embarrass me too because you'd be by my side," Yoongi protests.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that."

"Fine. Six?"

"Six... hm..." you hum. "You have pretty eyes."

Yoongi laughs out loud. "Thanks, I guess."

"Seven... let's see... hm..." You rub your chin thoughtfully. "Well, you put the toilet seat down for me."

"My mother didn't raise a hooligan."

"I actually agree with you on that one," you say, laughing. "For eight, I want to just say you're a good friend."

"You stole my number 8 on my letter to you!"

"Yoongi, you should just be glad I even repeated it back to you," you giggle. "Wanna hear nine before I forget?"

Your friend sighs but he nods.

"You're a very good writer. And I'm not just saying that to boost your already enormous ego or anything, but I genuinely think you can write," you say. "And I love that because then I get these good ass letters on special occasions. It's weird how you can choose each word so carefully that all of the meanings fit in this gigantic well-flowing story. And you'd think you'd use all these hard vocabulary words to throw me off, but your writing's easy to read and comprehend. It makes it more impactful." You quirk your brow at your friend who finally looks satisfied. "Is that enough?"

"Yes, now that's more like it!" Yoongi grins. "Butter up my ego a bit more, won't you?"

"Can't. I don't have a number ten for you." You shrug. "Sorry."

"C'mon, you can only think of nine reasons why you love me?" Yoongi leans into you, poking your cheek. "I thought of eleven but I had to take one off. This isn't very fair."

"Oh? What was the eleventh?"

"It was more of a joke so you don't need to know."

"Excuse me? I love jokes—even though I don't take them very well."

"Yeah, well, I especially don't want you to take this a bad way," Yoongi says.

"Was it something mean about me??"

"Kind of."

You frown, scrunching your nose. "Try me."

Yoongi shrugs. "Fine, then. I called you oblivious. Happy?"

You lean back from your friend, giving him a disgraceful look. "Me? Oblivious? First of all, no. And second of all, why would you love that about me?"

"Oh, I don't know, because you're so oblivious you can't even tell that I like you??"

One look at Yoongi and you can tell he's dead serious. "Woah," you breathe. You want to ask him to repeat what he just said to see if you heard him correctly the first time. But he's already looking a little impatient at your delayed answer. So you gape at him, muttering a soft, "Like? As in...?" You can't finish the sentence.

"As in love?" Yoongi finishes for you. "Sure."

"Bro..."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "I thought the letter made it obvious, Y/N."

"Well, I thought you were joking." You fidget with your hands. "Damn, Yoongi, now what the fuck am I supposed to say?"

"Do whatever you want with that information," he says, shrugging so nonchalantly that you wonder if this man even has feelings.

"Broo..."

"And if that means you're gonna keep saying 'bro,' then I guess that's fine too." He gives you a shit-eating grin.

"No, it's just that... wow. Since when??"

"Like, a year ago? Bit after Jungkook called us a married couple," Yoongi says. "But I'm so dead inside I hid it pretty fucking well. I kept thinking it'd go away too, but man, I still like you now, so I guess the feelings aren't going away anytime soon."

"But what are you proposing??" You run your hands through your hair. "That we go out??"

"Okay, you said it, not me."

You huff. It's weird. This dynamic you have with Yoongi. One moment you're bickering and the next, Yoongi's confessing his feelings for you. Strangely, though, you're not as turned off as you expected.

"One date."

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. "One date?"

"You can buy me dinner, and if it goes horribly, we're going right back to friends," you bargain. "In the case that it goes well, then, uh, you tell me."

Yoongi laughs. "Oh, I'll be the one to tell you, all right."

And unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you look at it), he's right. Four days later, your relationship with Yoongi becomes official. It irks your strings that none of your friends are even the slightest bit surprised about your newfound romantic relationship with the man you'd known for way more than half of your life.

"We all saw it coming, Y/N," they tell you. "We're actually surprised you two didn't date sooner."

But Yoongi is actually a good boyfriend, so there are no regrets. Aside from the small bickering here and there (the married couple kind of arguing), your relationship with him is sound. And the fact that not much has changed in the way you treat each other since you began dating makes you wonder if you were technically in love with Yoongi this whole time but you were way too blinded by your stupid senses and habitual, platonic teasing that you didn't think you actually liked him romantically. It doesn't really matter now, though. Because you're with him anyway.

Yoongi's love language is quality time and coincidentally, so is yours. College becomes a blast. When you're not studying, you're with Yoongi and when you're not with Yoongi, you're 'studying,' but really thinking of your boyfriend.

Yoongi has a way of plaguing your mind. It's been like that since you were little, too.

Once out of college, things become more difficult. Marriage matures into a serious question that neither you nor Yoongi is ready for. So both of you put it off.

As soon as you secure a job as an event planner and Yoongi becomes a professional grant writer, the honeymoon phase of the relationship plummets to the ground.

For nearly eighteen years you were a victim of Yoongi's 'teasing.' His judgmental remarks. But there is a time and place to be a critique.

"Oh, come on, the food isn't even that bad, Yoongi. Just a little bland. That's it."

"There was a hair in my soup," your boyfriend complains. "I'm asking for another bowl."

"Okay, fine, but don't ask for the manager like last time."

"Last time, the waitress called me a tightwad!! What was I supposed to do?"

"Just let it slide? You yelled at her for bringing you bad food when she didn't even cook it! Can you please stop acting so above everybody?"

"Whatever." Yoongi sets down his silverware. "I'm gonna Uber home." He tosses you his credit card and it slides across the wooden table and stops right in front of your dish. "And I'm going to write a Yelp review of this shitty place."

"You're not a fucking entitled writer! Stop acting like one!" you call out to him as he turns his back to you and storms away.

You end up eating dinner at a restaurant by yourself. Yoongi's right, the place is shitty, and the food is bland, but it's not downright intolerable.

Often, these days, it feels like your relationship with Yoongi is spiraling downward. The two of you cannot seem to agree on anything. It reminds you when you'd hated him in your younger years. But you can't hate him now; you live with him.

He's unavoidable.

Usually, Yoongi drives. The car feels foreign to you only because you normally don't sit in the driver's seat. The short mixtape of songs Yoongi wrote and produced for you plays the moment you turn on the engine. He'd gifted that to you a few months ago, after one of your bigger fights. You let the soft serenades play as you drive home.

No matter how many times you and Yoongi fight, the two of you make it up to each other somehow. There is no fight without a resolution. Yoongi will be waiting for you when you get home.

And he is. He's waiting with a blueberry yogurt cake from Paris Baguette sitting on the kitchen island and a letter in his hand. A written apology. Because Yoongi thinks he conveys his feelings better in writing than with spoken words.

"I'm sorry for storming off..." he says almost shyly. The man is nearly twenty-five years old but he sounds and looks like a guilty child with his lips pulled out in a pout and his eyes glancing nervously at your face to see if you weren't going to yell at him. "I, uh... didn't write the Yelp review."

How can you stay mad at that?

"And I wrote you an apology..."

You walk closer to your boyfriend and hug him. "Thank you..."

"Yeah," he says. "And good news, the cake will be really flavorful compared to what you had for dinner."

You smile. "Good thinking."

After a storm, there is always a rainbow. When there is a down, there is an up. And vice versa.

"Can we please stop planning every single fucking second of our lives?" Yoongi says exasperatedly. He flings away the brochure you had handed him that detailed the week's trip to Hawaii down to the last minute. "We're going on vacation. This makes me feel like I'm going to a stupid summer camp."

"If we're going to Hawaii, we shouldn't just relax around in the hotel all day, Yoongi," you scoff, gathering the abandoned brochure and tugging it to your chest. "There's stuff to see on the islands. We need to try everything my friends did! Why would we even go to Hawaii if we're not going to do these fun activities?"

"Come on. 7 o'clock breakfast? 8 o'clock hiking up to the falls? 10 o'clock scuba diving in the ocean? 12 o'clock lunch at the top of a big ass hill that we have to climb up ourselves? 1 o'clock zip-lining meters in the air? 2 o'clock festival? I could go on, but isn't that too much? When can we breathe?" Yoongi shakes his head. "No way. And all of that's just in one day. And the second day is even worse. Y/N, I want to go there to rest."

"If you wanted to rest, then you can do it at home," you argue. "Why go to Hawaii to rest?"

"There are different types of resting," Yoongi sighs. "What's a better way to fall asleep than in front of the ocean? We get to relax in a hotel, which means we won't have to make our beds or cook our meals or even do the dishes. That's relaxing for me."

"Well, it's not relaxing enough for me."

"Come on, Y/N. We went to Banff and you planned every single second of the trip there. I thought it was miserable. Can we please relax just once? For literally one trip?"

"But I already booked everything..."

Yoongi curses. "Why are you always four steps ahead of everything? It's unnecessary!"

"Maybe I'm not four steps ahead and you're just four steps behind!"

"Oh, so you're telling me that everyone else in the world plans their days down to the last second." Yoongi rolls his eyes. "Bullshit, Y/N."

"It's not my fault you're so—so, fucking lazy!"

"I'm not lazy!" Yoongi's eyes flash as he slams the dinner table. "You're just too high maintenance! Fucking nobody can keep up with you!" Before you can react or even yell back, he pushes his chair away and stands up, stomping away in a fury. You can hear him enter his study. There's that familiar door slam again. And the click of the lock means you won't be getting in that room anytime soon.

You're left by yourself, clutching the Hawaii brochure to your chest. A little angry at yourself but a lot madder at your boyfriend. With a bitter scream, you toss the brochure in the trash and curl up in a ball at the side of the couch.

But the thing about you and Yoongi is that with time and space, you recognize each other's perspectives. The rest is history.

Three hours just crying out your pent-up anger gets the irritation out of your system. By the time you're done though, you're a little hungry and guilty. You make a few phone calls and switch things around.

"Hey." You knock on the door of Yoongi's study. You're too afraid to turn the knob yourself. "I know you're in there."

No answer.

"I canceled the excessive activities..." you whisper against the door. "We can plan the trip together... I mean, better yet, we don't even have to plan anything at all... We can be..."—it pains you to say but—"spontaneous."

"Go away. I'm trying to work."

Sometimes Yoongi takes a bit longer than you to come around.

But by dinnertime, he's crept out of his study and has already ordered takeout from your favorite restaurant. The steaming pile of white rice and perfect side dishes lie on the dinner table, waiting for you. He waits for you too.

"I got a new client," he says, looking down at his hands. "And I got your favorite food." You notice that he's holding the Hawaii brochure you'd thrown away. It's a little wet on the sides. Maybe because Yoongi had to wipe off the remnants of the leftovers in the trash that had stuck onto the paper. Your boyfriend finally looks up at you. Shyly. Almost cautiously. "Wanna compromise?"

"Compromise?"

"We plan half of the trip and wing the rest of it," he offers. Yoongi slides you the brochure. "See, so I was thinking..."

You've always hated roller coasters. They are almost always unpredictable with head-jerking twists and turns that bring you closer to vomiting the contents of your stomach rather than pure bliss. There are one too many ups and downs.

Yoongi likes to joke that your relationship with him is a roller coaster. Only because there are too many dips that rocket up to the sky only to plummet down again. You disagree. Because, eventually, no matter how shitty the ride is, roller coasters do end. Your relationship with Yoongi is not over.

You like to compare your relationship with Yoongi like the ocean waves. But during a tsunami. The ups are great; the towering waves give you a beautiful vantage point. And it's all fun and games until the waves crash down on everything you once loved, destroying them. And the process repeats so much that in the end, there is nothing left.

That's what you feel now. Empty.

Alone in the bed with Yoongi downstairs and nowhere to be seen near you.

After a while, even the highs of the relationship makes you feel numb. The lows wreck you past your breaking point. It takes more time to find resolutions—the fights go on for longer than days, even weeks.

When you were younger, fighting with Yoongi was irritating at most. Now, they leave you sobbing and drinking alone in the corner of the bathroom. But it's so late in the game.

You've known Yoongi for over eighteen years of your life, since kindergarten. You keep telling yourself that he's the only one in the world who could understand you; and you're the only one in the world who can understand him. But other than that, you can't find another reason why you're with him.

Sometimes, you listen back to the mixtape he made you years ago. The lyrics don't apply to you now. And this year, for your birthday, he half-assed a letter for you last-minutely because he was 'busy.' Busy drinking with his friends the night before. You've stopped planning your dates for months.

Actually, when was the last time you went on a date with him?

You can't recall.

Maybe the back and forth arguing you and Yoongi had gone through in the majority of your relationship was a sign—a bad sign. If only you hadn't met him on the seesaw that day. Then maybe none of this would've happened.

You might be dating someone you have things in common with. Maybe someone you don't argue with as much.

Falling asleep with tears in your eyes that keep the pillow wet until morning is an occurrence that you're too familiar with. It is an occurrence you want to stop. When Yoongi isn't downstairs by morning, you're thrown into further misery. He usually works from home... He must be really angry to leave without saying anything.

You eat breakfast by yourself. Lunch consists of ramen. And dinner... Yoongi's still not home so you skip the meal altogether.

By 9 p.m., you look at your phone. You don't want to be the first person to break—the first person to apologize—but you worry. Will he hang up on you? Tell you to go away? The possibilities seem endless.

So much thinking hurts your head. Some fresh air might do the trick. Before you know it, you're wandering around a familiar rusty playground again. It brings back childhood memories. When your hand trails across the paint-chipped monkey bars, you're brought back to when you were only six years old. The towering obstacle had looked so big when you were little. Now, you could easily cross the bars by simply walking.

It's strange to see the once-bustling playground be completely empty and in the dark. You hear that they're going to tear down this place to construct a little convenience store so no one must've visited this playground in a very long time. You'll miss it when it's gone. You had a lot of fun around here.

Just as that thought passes through your head, your eye catches sight of the seesaw.

Ah, the start of everything.

Slowly, you walk towards it. Each step makes your feet sink further in the smoothed over gravel but you manage to sit at the very edge of the seesaw. Immediately, the other side flings up in the air. It reminds you of when you flung Yoongi in the air. A pretty funny memory. But not right now. Thinking about Yoongi now hurts.

You hate it when you start to contemplate the worst-case scenario. A breakup. Moving out. Stress. Tears.

You run your fingers across the rusty handle of the seesaw. Hopefully, things don't come to that. But how much longer can you handle the arguments? They seem to be elongating as time passes. What if one day, the argument lasts a month? Several months? A year?

If there is one thing in your life that you strive to achieve, it's predictability. With Yoongi, there is none of that. He makes last-minute plans out of nowhere and doesn't tell you until the last second. Then you have to go on a frenzy to reschedule everything. It is a cycle that you've become sick of. And he's sick of you planning everything.

That has been the issue of the last ten fights.

The same issue.

And it's unfixable.

You and Yoongi are rock bottom on the very floor of the Mariana Trench. The back and forth game of banter has turned into something more serious, and it just isn't as light-hearted and funny anymore.

"Hey."

You nearly fall off the seesaw at the sound of Yoongi's voice. He's got his hands shoved in his pockets and he looks like he was awake for more than 24 hours.

"H-Hey," you say.

"The seesaw, huh?"

"Yeah." You nod. "The seesaw."

Yoongi smiles but it's not a very happy one. Even now, you don't think either one of you wants to apologize for the fight.

"I've been thinking," Yoongi sighs. He doesn't spare you another glance before he sits on the other side of the seesaw. You're suddenly jerked up in the air. There used to be a balance but it seems like Yoongi's gained some weight—or you've lost a lot. "Remember when I said our relationship is like a rollercoaster?"

"And I said I disagreed."

"Right." Yoongi sighs. "I take that back. We're not like a rollercoaster. We're in a game."

"A game?"

Yoongi gestures at the seesaw. "This is our game."

"...The seesaw?" You raise an eyebrow at the man but Yoongi doesn't budge.

"Yes. Look." Yoongi pushes off the gravel with his feet, putting himself in the air while sinking you to the ground. "And when you push..." Following his words, you launch yourself back in the air. Yoongi looks up at you as he sighs. "We're always on opposite sides, opposite places."

"Even when we try to balance," he continues, trying to lift his body to bring you down to the same level as him, "we fail." He ends up higher than you now and you look up at him.

"Some game this is..." you mutter.

"It's a game of ups and downs," Yoongi tells you. "It's tiring, isn't it?"

"Of course it is."

"And like all games... there is an end."

You raise both eyebrows. "Oh."

"From day one, you know... we weren't really supposed to get along," Yoongi says. "But somehow seeing each other every day, bickering with each other... all of that let us be in closer proximity with each other. And then we thought we were meant to be."

"You're analyzing our relationship?" you scoff.

"Don't act like you haven't done the same, Y/N."

You're silent.

"It doesn't matter whether we love each other at this point, Y/N... Does it? Love or not, I don't think I can live like this."

It's ridiculous. You're having a grown-up discussion possibly leading to a breakup on a fucking seesaw of all places.

"You want to separate?" Your voice comes out smaller than you expected. When it becomes a reality, it's much harder to digest.

"You've been thinking about it too, right?" Yoongi sighs. "I mean, I heard you call your mom the other day. And it didn't sound too good."

Guilty. "Well, yeah, I've been thinking about it... Just... I just didn't think it'd become a reality so soon." And you always thought you would have initiated the breakup, not the other way around.

"Yeah... I felt bad you always took initiative with things so I decided to save you the stress and do it myself."

"Wow. Thanks." You shake your head. "Real thoughtful."

"Right?" Yoongi grins. "I don't think a lot will change if we break up. We've always hated each other a little."

You let out a wry laugh. "I'll never forgive you for calling me fat."

"And I'll never forgive you for calling me stupid."

"Looks like we're even."

"Yeah, for once." Yoongi shrugs. "I guess we can be platonic roommates until I find another apartment."

"Sounds good to me." You ignore the tears welling up in your eyes as you try to smile. "Let's get off this seesaw to seal the deal then."

"The end of the game." Yoongi's voice shakes just enough for you to know he's crying.

And as the two of you walk back to your shared apartment with tears streaming down your faces, you realize you wouldn't have it any other way. A breakup any later would be regretful—even wasteful of time. A breakup any earlier would've left you to separate forever. A breakup now is perfect.

You're acquainted enough to still possibly be friends. But not bound by marriage to make the procedure worse and more complicated.

Of course, you love Yoongi. But sometimes, you love the wrong people—the people you don't belong with, the people who won't make you happy. You're just glad you didn't run away in the beginning. Yoongi taught you a difficult rivalry, a difficult friendship, a difficult relationship. But you don't always have to go the hard way.

When a relationship becomes like a game—repetitive with the addition of wins and losses—that's when you know you can stop.

You'll be on the easy route now and find someone who is as crazy about planning as you.

You look up at Yoongi. His cheeks are wet with tears but he doesn't necessarily look sad. Instead, he looks hopeful. Like he'll find somebody who can appreciate his love for leaving sarcastic Yelp reviews or somebody who loves spontaneity as much as he does.

And when he finds that special somebody, you'll be happy for Yoongi. But, of course, not before you tease the living shit out of him first.

—masterpost

—masterlist

[themockingcrows]

Faint

Chronic invisible illness sucks. Sometimes we stay quiet. Sometimes we cope by giving our favorite characters our condition to get some comfort. This fic is the latter case, wherein Rose Lalonde has Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome and Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and deals with everything that brings in order to spread a bit of awareness.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31556225

She’d thought it was normal, till she brought it up to the others. The chest pain, the exhaustion, the dizziness. The sense of running on an internal timer so precise that if she overstepped its bounds it would be time to collapse into the void itself. The darkness at the edges of her vision when she’d been upright too long, when she was stressed, when she was running, dancing.

She’d thought it was normal, that everyone just had more stamina than she did before they had the same symptoms occur.

“That’s not normal. You should maybe see a doctor!” they’d unanimously said. John had been concerned, Dave had been flippant with jokes but the worry was easy to detect, and Jade was forceful with her reasoning.

Rose had finally told her mother something was wrong, to spur a visit to the doctor. It was hard to explain at first, but when her guardian further questioned how she felt, how long she’d felt that way, it had nearly turned into a shouting match.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What if something is really wrong, Rosie! This isn’t something to just keep quiet!”

If she’d known it was abnormal, perhaps she would have mentioned it sooner. If she’d known. If she’d had a reason, she might have even been able to keep up with ballet instead of having to quit, feigning disinterest when it still made her heart sing. Violin was hard enough to deal with, with her arms raised the entire time. But ballet was just a no go anymore.

To the doctor, then, after a few weeks of edge of seat waiting. The family physician, who they’d known for years. Who didn’t believe her. Not at first, at least.

He’d checked her weight first thing, and finding her normal range, asked about her habits. While he spoke, he checked her joints and how stretchy she was, keeping her moving while talking till she was reeling on her feet before he let her lay down. Stupid old man. Her problem felt like it was in her chest or her head, not her joints! She’d always been plenty bendy, able to pull off poses ahead of her ballet class with minimal effort, the stretches never quite feeling like enough to really pull in her body in a satisfying way.

Head swimming till she lay flat on the exam table, arms crossed over her stomach absently, Rose continued to answer questions.

She was doing okay in school. She was just more tired than usual.

Yes, this had been happening for quite some time.

No, she’d fainted before, but only once. And only because she’d been up too long dancing. She didn’t miss the curious look the doctor gave her mother, the raised brow. He checked her abdomen, he checked her glands, looking for distension or rigidity, looking for clues. Nothing. Nothing that she could see, at least. Nothing that felt any different from normal. He continued to talk, keeping her lying down for a while, and checked her blood pressure while she rested, the pulse oximeter being placed on her opposite finger.

75bpm, 120/80. Everything normal, everything fine. He left the devices in place, however, and then did something strange.

“Could you stand up for me, Rose? Nice and straight, right here by the table.”

There were no questions this time to keep her occupied. Just two sets of eyes staring at her in the small room, watching as she felt the cold sweat start up on her forehead, the shake beginning in her limbs. It was stronger when she stood still, when she couldn’t prowl around. She felt nauseated as the sweat turned to a hot flash and started to soak into the fabric of her shirt, and with it came the panic as she saw the darkness at the corners of her vision.

“Can I sit down please.”

“Not yet, try to hold out a little longer,” the doctor coaxed, inflating the blood pressure cuff once more. She focused on the discomfort on her arm instead of the pounding in her chest and head, the increased breaths. Nausea rose in her throat, bile, bitter, salt from excess saliva.

“Can I sit down. Please,” she said again, not caring that it sounded like begging.

“Nearly there, just a moment longer.”

She didn’t have a moment. She felt her knees quaking, felt the floor rushing up to meet her, but gratefully felt her mother’s hands hurrying to catch her waist and balance her till the doctor finished his data gathering.

80/50. 145bpm.

The monster had a name now. Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. There were hopes she’d just grow out of it, but there was a chance it might be long lasting. In her case it seemed to be at least partly linked to how bendy she was, how loose her skin felt, how stretchy it was, how easily she bruised. That, too, had a name. Ehlers Danlos Syndrome.

What had been a slow appointment was suddenly moving very fast. Referrals were being made, appointments with different doctors at the big hospital in town, and paperwork was being handed to her mother in a thick stack. Informative pages, recommendations for diet, for exercises, safety precautions, warnings, risks. A whole new world was opening up below her and swallowing her whole, and Rose didn’t know how to feel about it.

One thing was certain, however.

She didn’t plan on telling her friends. Or anyone, for that matter.

It would be her little secret.

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

“...Is it going to hurt?” was Rose’s only question. She felt very small, much smaller than she’d felt at the clinic with her mother. The room here was bigger and more sterile, with strange looking machinery and electronics. She’d asked the same when she had her first EKG earlier, and had been relieved that the most painful part was having the gummy electrodes pulled back off after the painless test was performed. Something about being in a hospital gown and swinging her legs on a different looking exam table just made her feel even more fragile than the long walk through the building had. At least her mom was there with her.

“No, not at all. It might be a little uncomfortable, or a little cold, but there’s no pain,” promised a technician with a smile. She smiled back a little uncertainly, unconvinced. “All we’re going to do is get some pictures of your heart. I promise, an echocardiogram doesn’t hurt. It’s just a paddle with cold jelly, you’ll hold your breath when I tell you to and stay very still, and we’ll see how things look from different angles.”

“And you’ll tell me if I’m going to die or not.”

“No,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll be telling you if you have any issues with your heart valves or not.”

“Same difference.”

“You underestimate just how much the human body can handle before needing intervention,” he chuckled. “C’mon, legs up on the table and get laid back. I’m sorry for having to keep the shirt open, I know it’s embarrassing. Mom, you can see everything, yes?”

“Yes. Rosie if you need to hold my hand, I ca-”

“I’m fine, Mother. Thank you.”

“Well. If you change your mind, I’m right here.”

“Can you see the screen?” he asked Rose. She nodded, then went very still to watch the technician lift a bottle of gel and squeeze a splurt onto the paddle's end instead. “Right. Sorry this will be chilly, just try to bear with it. And-”

“Stay very still,” Rose finished for him as he opened the front of the gown and pressed the paddle to her chest. She hadn’t been watching the screen at first, but when it lit up with a fluttering white and gray form it was hard to ignore. She knew what it was, of course, though not what the technician was looking for. Seeing your own heart pushing blood around, flaring and calming as it cycled pulses, was kind of amazing. There it was, the only thing keeping her alive, and they were checking to see if any potential defects inside of its valves from the EDS were making her sick.

The procedure was quick enough. A roll here or there, a drop down section of the table for him to do further measurements underneath of her as she lay on her side, and soon enough she was done.

“What’s the verdict, am I dying,” Rose said, voice carefully calm and face deadpan. The papers from the physician had said this was a non-deadly condition, that neither of them would kill her, but the concept of damage to a heart valve of all things being real had brought out the morbid part of her brain.

“There’s a bit of a leak,” he admitted. “But your measurements are just fine and within normal ranges. I wouldn’t be too worried about it, but if you start feeling worse or new symptoms we might recheck within the next few years.”

Rose wiped off the gel with the offered cloth and covered back up while the technician spoke with her mother, the words flowing quick and easy as she asked questions and they discussed the findings. Rose herself stared at the blank screen for a moment before setting her hand over her heart, feeling the pulse, remembering how it had looked.

She was fine then.

All the more reason not to make anyone she knew worry.

She informed her friends that it had been a vitamin issue and that she was going to be just fine before changing the subject, getting swept up in conversations about games and comics and music all over again. Same as ever.

Same as always.

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

Treatment wasn’t much. Increased water consumption, and a stupid amount of salt. Compression stockings, when that alone wasn’t enough. Rose drank gatorade till she could smell it in her dreams, ate pickles and pretzels till salty foods lost their amusement and her mother had to get creative in the kitchen and with the ordering in catalog. Everything was salt and fluids, compression stockings just tight enough they gave her the will to live back. Thankfully they came in black and she could just pretend they were normal stockings, and for anyone just looking in passing, they would be just another part of her wardrobe.

Yet none of it was enough. The weakness persisted, the fatigue, and through it all that awful, stupid racing heart. If the sound of a beating heart could drive a man mad from beneath floorboards then, surely, the persistent throbbing in her ears and the pain in her chest from her own rushing tempo would be enough to drive her mad. Going to the grocery store made her sweat through her clothes, made her vision blur even as she clung to the cart for balance. More than once, she had to go find a deserted aisle to sit down on the floor in, legs stretched out in front of her, waiting for the worst of it to pass as she debated just how much she might regret laying down flat to hurry it along.

Rose assumed this was just how life was going to be. Stockings, salt, water, constantly living on an internal timer to get things done. Annoying, but not much of a burden. She could imagine living her life like this, one way or another. Others did it every day.

Then had come SBurb.

Fire from the sky and the end of the world, rushing, hurrying, breaking the bottle. She hadn’t been wearing her stockings for the day, but was grateful for the opportunities to sit, few and far between as they were. There was plenty reason for her heart to be beating out of her chest then; plenty of scary, inexplicably stressful things were happening. She had entered the medium with grim determination, and set about the task of destroying imps with a bit of glee.

She had to be quick in dispatching them, there was no alternative. Fainting around these things was unthinkable, and she had plenty of stress to get out with her knitting needles. Rose combined aggression with ballet and her own trained limberness for maneuvers that, in a normal situation, she’d never have reason to use.

It was thrilling.

It was-

Gasping and out of breath, Rose settled on her knees and held her chest after her latest kill, needing time to recover. To rest. It was like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t open her lungs enough. Like she was drowning on dry land. She gagged, saliva thick and sticky from exertion and, somehow, early dehydration. Slowly, she flopped onto her back and threw her legs up against the wall, feeling the ache and throb as the pooled blood rushed back towards her torso and brain.

Maybe she should get her stockings before continuing, given she had no idea what to expect going forward…

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

The game up through getting to the meteor had been quite the experience. She’d been able to pace herself somewhat, exerting herself in bouts that she could control better once she’d gotten some thoroughly upgraded weaponry in hand. Now, godtiered and being able to fly, she found she was able to handle being upright longer than usual.

Well.

Mostly.

She still had an affinity for walking normally. Maybe it was because it let her track her internal timer better, a long ingrained pattern she was comfortable with. Maybe it was the fear of falling from height, knowing it wouldn’t kill her but that it would still hurt unless someone caught her. There was also the setback of getting enough fluids and salt.

Gatorade was too much to hope for, but water was doable at least. Salt as a base was also available, but drinking straight salt water would have been anything but subtle.

...Maybe it was time to be honest. Rose was fairly certain that Dave already had an idea something was up, having been around her for some time by then. He always seemed to be watching her carefully, and after a few conversations with Kanaya she’d walked in on, even Kanaya had begun to have a more cautious air in their interactions.

Would that just get worse, if she told everyone?

How would Vriska react to such a thing? Such a weakness? The Seer of Light, waylaid by darkness brought on by standing for too long, she could hear it now. Brought on by sitting upright too long, sometimes. It had progressed in ways that she was frustrated about, spending time reading and trying to figure out how to make compression stockings of the right elasticity out of her god tier outfit in her down time. A dress? Sure! Simple! A garment that would help her out without cutting off all circulation to her legs or being useless? Bit more difficult.

At least Kanaya was content to let her recline whenever she wanted. She never asked, never brought it up. Instead she welcomed the blonde head to her lap, the subtle tug on her hand that meant she was going to slide to sit on the ground against the wall for a time to watch the vast space they were traveling through.

Maybe she would just keep it quiet forever. Or, at least, till after their final battles were done. When there was time to rest, when there were doctors again, Gatorade or something similar, she could get this under control and go back to her plans of dealing with it like she had imagined on Earth. Whatever lay ahead of them could be handled.

She’d keep it quiet. It would be her little secret.

Till she’d fainted in front of everyone, at least.

Another argument had broken out between Karkat and Vriska, Terezi egging on from the side and Dave adding the occasional beatbox for effect much to everyone’s annoyance and amusement in equal measure. Rose and Kanaya were observing and commenting for the most part, following them all up the stairs, but the growing intensity of the clog meant that the foot traffic had come to a stop.

Moments ticked by, then minutes.

Rose felt the shake in her knees, the cold sweat on her brow starting up.

“Dear, are you quite alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she promised with a smile, looking ahead at the group who took up the stairwell. Surely they’d move any moment. Any time now. Any second. They couldn’t argue forever, not even Karkat and Vriska on a bad day, it would end any time. She just needed to hold on, and then she’d be back upstairs with her book on the sofa, feet up, recovering stealthily yet again.

The argument dragged on, and the pain in her chest started up. Vision blurring, Rose turned her head to glance down the stairs, half turning. Maybe she could go back downstairs and use the restroom or something instead, buy time for them to move while having an excuse on hand so nobody would be suspicious.

“I’m-” she started to say.

Her legs buckled beneath her, and she knew no more.

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

“See, if you’d just moved your ass instead of backing up into the wall like a cornered meowbeast, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s not like I pushed her! I don’t know who pushed her!”

“Nobody pushed her, she just collapsed, I was right there. We’ve been over this.”

“Well, why did she collapse then!”

“Has she been drinking or something?”

“No, not that I’m aware. She ate earlier, too.”

“Sleeping?”

“Plenty.”

Rose slowly opened her eyes and stared up quietly at the ceiling, the view from the floor at the bottom of the staircase. The argument had a new source now, the squabble more contained than before, but still lively. Kanaya was watching Terezi pull Karkat and Vriska physically apart like she wanted to jump in and do it herself, but she kept her cool hands on Rose’s arm instead, immobilized. Dave had a notebook he was using like a fan over her face, cooling her off, drying the remaining sweat on her brow. He stopped when he realized she was awake, setting it aside and pushing his shades up the bridge of his nose.

She knew that look. Worry. Suspicion. It made her stomach ache a bit with guilt.

“You good now?”

“...Yeah. I fell?”

“Swan dived face first for the concrete, more like.”

Kanaya’s head jerked her direction and she smiled broader, leaning down to hug Rose tight around the shoulders.

“I was so worried! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No,” she admitted, surprised. “How-”

“I’m quick,” Dave shrugged, glancing to the side. Kanaya pressed a kiss to her cheek before carefully helping her to sit upright. “Hey, yo, shut the fuck up, she’s awake now. Everyone can stop the blame game, new topic after a quick five.”

“Lalonde, what was that about!” Vriska said immediately. “Did you just trip over your own feet?”

“Kanaya said she collapsed,” Terezi sighed. “Not tripped.”

Karkat glowered, but crossed his arms and was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Thanks for not painting the floor with your thinkpan, we’ve got enough problems around here witho- UGH” he grunted, Terezi’s elbow making swift contact with his side, halting his contribution to the subject.

“Are you sick or something?” Terezi asked.

Rose furrowed her brow, looking around at everyone. Looking back to Dave, looking to Kanaya, both of whom briefly exchanged knowing glances. It appeared the jig was up. Now to just let the cat out of the bag properly so it would stop suffocating.

“I fainted,” Rose said.

“No fucking shit,” came Karkat’s helpful response.

“It’s. ...I’ve done it before,” Rose said, trying to measure her words, trying to figure out how to explain quickly not only to Dave but to members of an entirely different species. “On Earth I was sick. I’m still sick.”

“So we just need to get you medicine or something, right?” Dave said.

She shook her head.

“I’m already taking my medicine best I can.”

“Man, if you know how to make meds can you whip up some pepto or somethin’, because I think I’m gonna die if I don’t get hold of some before the next time we eat makeshift Alternian shit,” Dave said. Rose shook her head again.

“Water and salt.”

“What about it?” said Kanaya, rubbing Rose’s upper back when she still looked a bit woozy. Rose accepted the invitation and leaned into her shoulder, hugging her with one arm to give herself a bit more courage.

“That’s the medicine.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Rose groaned and dropped her head against Kanaya’s neck for a moment before sighing and straightening once more.

“I’ve got a condition called POTS.”

“Like-”

“No, not like fucking weed. It’s Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome.”

“What the fuck does all that mean? Are you contagious?” Karkat asked, getting another sharp elbow from Terezi, hard enough he slapped at her arm afterwards a few times in annoyance. “Will you knock that the fuck off?!”

“Don’t you think she would’ve mentioned something if she was?”

“SHE’S A FUCKING ALIEN! How do we know if it’s not contagious to US?” he argued, taking a quick step back to avoid yet another elbow coming his direction. Vriska caught him around the neck and scrubbed her knuckles deep against his scalp till he cringed.

“Preeeeeeeetty sure she would’ve said something that important before no- YOW!”

More than a little annoyed, Terezi yanked a section of Vriska’s hair till she released the thrashing Karkat, then quickly slapped a hand Karkat’s direction to keep him at bay.

“What’s it mean,” she said simply.

“It means my body is stupid and my brain doesn’t get enough blood to it when I’m upright. It all goes to my legs and can’t get back up to my head fast enough,” she said. “My heart races very badly and I feel like I’m dying and I get very weak. I get tired. I get sick. And if I’m not careful, I faint.”

“So it wasn’t a vitamin problem,” Dave mumbled. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Kanaya frowned a bit, lifting a hand up to stroke a section of Rose’s bangs away from her face, to stroke down the side of her cheek with her thumb. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We could have watched out for you.”

“I didn’t want to hold anyone back,” Rose shrugged. “I thought I could handle it. And I didn’t want-”

“UGH great! Now we’ve got a whole person who’s useless to cope with!” Vriska shouted, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

“That,” Rose said flatly, more than a little annoyed.

“She’s not useless, she’s sick,” Dave said.

“SAME DIFFERENCE! It’s a weakness! A BIG weakness! We’re heading towards a huge fight and we can’t count on you at all now!”

Rose set her jaw. “I can handle myself. I just have to be quick an-”

“You can’t handle yourself, you just fell down the stairs from standing still! What if you collapse during battle, huh? What then? I’m sure as shit not sweeping in to save you, and we need all the god tier powers we can get to be FUNCTIONAL during a fight!” Vriska continued, yanking her hair free from Terezi’s hand to stalk closer, staring down where Rose sat, arms crossed. “What can you do? Ranged attacks while sitting down?”

Releasing Kanaya, Rose stood up quickly, immediately regretting it when her vision swam again. She braced herself and bent her knees before locking them in a wider stance for balance. It was a weak spot. A point of pride was that she’d come this far just fine as it was, and now that the cat was out of the bag her worst fears were coming true.

“Hey, easy, don’t go down again,” Dave said from behind her.

“Shut up, I’m fine!” Rose insisted. “What do you want me say, Vriska! That I promise I won’t collapse? You don’t know what I’m capable of in a fight! You don’t know what options I have on hand! Don’t discredit me just because I have this bullshit to deal with. If I can work around it, so can you. If you can’t then which of us is weaker in the end, me or you?”

It was spoken as a challenge, pure and simple. Tension was thick in the air as they stared each other down, Rose with her hands balled into fists, Vriska with crossed arms. Everyone was waiting for something to give, for the other shoe to drop.

“...Whatever,” Vriska muttered, the first to break position. She turned around and lifted her arms behind her head to stretch as she went up the stairs. “Humans are so fragile and booooooooring! Terezi, come help with dinner, I don’t know what to aim for this time.”

A collective breath was released. Terezi smirked a bit.

“That was pretty good, Lalonde. Normally she’d have kept going, but I think you got her in a corner now.”

“TEREZI, COME ON, I’M HUNGRY!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, keep your rumble spheres tethered!” she shouted, before turning with a laugh like broken glass to run up the stairs after her friend.

Karkat, alone with the trio, watched Terezi run off before looking back towards Rose. She shuddered, then quickly sat back down on the ground and flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh.

“I’m fine!” she was quick to say. “Just. Need to be down for a second. Just a second. Holy shit.”

“What, think you were gonna get into a catfight?” Dave asked, picking up the notebook again to sway over her face a few times just in case it was useful again.

“Yes!”

“Would’ve been funny,” he admitted.

“Would’ve been hilarious if this is what finally got us at each other’s throats,” she said sarcastically.

“How do you feel now that everyone knows what has been wrong?” Kanaya asked, stretching her legs out before scooting closer to Rose’s side and laying back as well. “Relieved?”

“Yes. ...Though. What if she’s right…?”

“First time for everything,” Dave shrugged. “Here, lift your heads up,” he instructed as he dropped the notebook and instead lifted his cape, scooting it in a wad beneath their heads. He settled opposite Rose and stretched out as well, one knee bent up so he could tap his foot occasionally, arms splayed out.

Karkat waited for a moment before Dave patted the open space in the circle, then came closer and flopped down as well, hands on his stomach.

“...So you’re SURE you’re not contagious.”

“Dude, with how often she swaps spit with Kanaya I’m pretty sure you’re safe just breathin’ the same air if she’s unaffected,” Dave pointed out.

“Well, good. ...Sorry for asking earlier,” he muttered. “I just didn’t know what to think! Lalonde being sick out of nowhere is-”

“It was rather obvious, if you watched her closely. Something was wrong even if I didn’t know what,” Kanaya said. Dave nodded as well, making Rose groan and cover her face with her hands.

“How obvious was I?”

“Real obvious,” Dave snorted. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got your back now, and we’ll have your back durin’ a fight. You know that.”

“I’ll slice anything that comes for you if you go down,” Karkat said helpfully. Given how much work he’d done hoping to be a threshcutioner before,

Kanaya reached for Rose’s hand as it came away from her face and gave it a squeeze. “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Rose sighed. “Yeah. I know. You’re right.”

She had backup now. And a while to think of how to explain everything to the others when they met up with them.

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

It felt like years ago, that final battle. Maybe because it had been years by then. It was kind of hard to keep track sometimes, really. She’d held her own, had backup, and they had all come out on top. They’d made a new world, populated it, let it grow and come back to live amongst everyone. She’d been hopeful that after all that, after all the advancements, there would be progress in her own disorders. Treatment options beyond salt and water, beyond stockings.

The fact there wasn’t, that it was still a chronic illness, that there was no magical cure in a special pill to take even after all of that, felt a bit like a slap in the face. Somehow, despite everything, having that bit of hope crushed had been enough to send her into a depression deep enough that it took months for friends and family to help pull her out of it.

There was no ‘better’. There was just coping. And she had to be okay with that.

She had options at least, thankfully. She could fly to get places faster than walking, even if she was on a harsher timer than before. She could drive. Her home was comfortable and easily accommodated a wheelchair that she could use outside of the home as well, half the time pushing herself along and the other half of the time being pushed by Kanaya when she got too tired. Life was good in many ways, even if there was no miracle to be had.

She was alive, married to the love of her life. She had friends and family surrounding her. She had aspirations for a long future, and hobbies that kept her plenty busy. It was enough for her.

When Kanaya leaned down behind her to kiss the side of her neck, sharp fangs barely there on her skin, Rose pulled the brakes on her chair and reached back to stroke Kanaya’s hair fondly. Her wife sat down beside her on the dock, overlooking the vast lake, and squinted out over the shimmering surface to make out where their friends were. A boat was heading this way and that trailing a water skier behind on a tow line, while two people flew above it keeping an eye on whoever was below kicking up wake behind them.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to participate?” Kanaya asked, amused when the skier went down into the water and was pulled up by the two flying lifeguards. “They said they had an innertube as well. You could sit and be towed.”

“Mmm. I’m fine,” Rose said with a smile. “Maybe next time, I don’t much feel like getting wet today. What about you? It looks plenty safe. Roxy and John wouldn’t let anyone drown.”

“I’d rather be near you,” she shrugged. “Perhaps we can have a turn in the boat instead later. We could take a tour around the lake without getting wet.”

“I love how your mind works,” Rose chuckled. She stretched a bit, then pushed the legs of her chair straight out, propping her legs straight out in front of her with a grateful sigh, pooled blood circulating somewhat easier again.

The skier was, apparently, Karkat. At least that’s what the shouting and cursing indicated as he struggled in the air with the duo holding him up safely. He dropped back into the lake with a splash, only to be carefully fished out again and deposited on the boat. Rose snorted a laugh before giggling at just how silly the situation looked from a distance, knowing she’d hear all about the details of it later from everyone involved. Kanaya looked at her with a soft smile before leaning against the side of the chair, nudging Rose’s leg till she stroked at her head and horns as one would pet a cat.

“I’m so glad to hear that sound…”

“Laughter? I’ve laughed a lot recently, haven’t I?” Rose asked, a little confused.

“Yes. You’ve been in such a good mood lately, compared to before. Every time I hear you laugh or see you smile it’s like sunshine.”

Rose leaned forward to press a kiss between Kanaya’s horns, making her wife hum softly, blissfully.

“You know just what to say to make an already good day better.”

Somehow, Rose felt, every day was just more proof that everything was going to be okay now.

((If you would like to learn more about POTS please visit this website for information!

http://www.dysautonomiainternational.org/page.php?ID=30))