#its really debilitating to go from one mood to the other and the fact i never feel happy or at peace makes me think about ******* myself

[icanseethefuture333]

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[doll-elvis]

How and why did Elvis go down hill so fast after the Aloha from Hawaii concert

ahh this is a really interesting question, thank you for the ask <3 !! also I’m sorry if I didn’t interpret this correctly and if you mean’t the immediate aftermath of the special, I kind of answered in terms of the long run 😭

now this might be an unpopular opinion but I don’t believe that Elvis actually ever went ‘downhill’ at a constant or steady rate

Many fans, biographers, and reviewers sort of see the Aloha special as ‘past the point of no return’ for Elvis, meaning they see it his last moment of “greatness”, or the last moment where he was truly on top

The Aloha special was no doubt a peak moment for Elvis, but I don’t definitely don’t view it as his “final truly great moment”. I also don't see the special as him reaching the top of the mountain and then next 4 years are him going down it. I see the special as one peak of many, in fact I think he continued to have peak moments up until his passing, which is why the suddenness of his death is so tragic because I don’t believe he was done. He was of course physically not well but not to the point that he wouldn’t have been able to overcome it if he had more time and proper care

Another reason that I can’t say he ever steadily declined is because that throughout his career, particularly in the 60s and 70s, Elvis had periods of highs and lows that often coincided with how his personal life was going i.e family, friends, girlfriends etc.etc

For example the tail end of the summer in 1976 was a particularly rough patch for Elvis. His health was declining, his relationship with Linda was on its’ last legs, his group was split (Dave, Red and Sonny had been fired), and Doctor Nick even stopped being his physician after a fallout had occurred and Doctor Elias Ghanem stepped in

Doctor Ghanem was even more neglectful in taking care of Elvis and as a result Elvis was loaded up on anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and other extremely debilitating narcotics. He was rendered almost completely incontinent. Thus resulting in one of Elvis’ worst tours yet, and one of his worst rated shows ever aka ‘Houston we have a problem’ which was taped on August 28th 1976

Reportedly Elvis was slurring and stumbling so badly on stage that several fans walked out, one reviewer even noted fans crying as they left

“People had witnessed the side effects from Elvis's medications during his performance in Houston. Elvis had taken Sparine (for depression), which contributed to muscle and speech problems. It knocked the bottom out of him, dropped his blood pressure. He couldn't do diddly-squat”

excerpt from the book “The King and Dr. Nick” by George Nichopoulos

It was one terrible show/performance after the next and Elvis was pushing himself to the limits and suffering because of it. According to band members Elvis had to be convinced to go on stage because he was so worried about disappointing the crowd. He wanted to perform better but his body physically wouldn’t let him. It was so terrible that just after 3 days of Elvis being under Doctor Ghanem’s care, Doctor Nick was called back and began working again to regulate Elvis’ prescription use

And then on November 19th, 1976, Elvis met 20-year-old Ginger Alden, and to just say he had “improved” would be a massive understatement. He began performing like he hadn’t been for years, resulting in one of his best tours, and some of his best shows such as his New Year’s Eve performance on December 31st, 1976. And more than just his career/shows, Elvis’ mood had visibly lifted, he was out of his depression and he was much more optimistic for the future

excerpt from the book “Elvis: My best man” by George Klein

excerpt from the book “If I can dream” by Larry Geller

So Elvis went from having one of his worst-rated concerts, to one of his best-rated concerts in just the span of a few months, which again proves to me at least that his “decline” wasn’t steady

When he was motivated and inspired, he could do incredibly great things, whether that motivation came from a single girl he wanted to impress in the audience or billions of people around the world like in the Aloha special

And this pattern can be seen throughout his career

Like in the 60s where Elvis would tend to let himself go a little bit between films and then when a script was given for his next picture, he would find the motivation to get back “in shape”, even reducing the amount of prescriptions pills he was taking in order to do so

But even the films eventually grew tiresome and Elvis didn’t find that motivation for his career again until the 68 comeback special. dontbeecruel breaks down the lead up to the special like Shakespeare I swear- please take the time to read it for yourself if you haven’t (it’s amazing) 😩 ⬇️

Another instance in the 70s where Elvis was able to recover from a low/downhill period and rise again was after his divorce with Priscilla. His saving grace, inspiration, and motivation this time came to him as Linda Thompson

excerpt from the book “A Little thing called Life” by Linda Thompson

The divorce undoubtedly caused was one of the lowest periods in Elvis’ life. He began taking pills and prescriptions that he had never had before such as Demerol and Dilaudid, his behavior became more erratic than ever, and he was in a deep depression, resulting in the decline of both his physical and mental health

It took him a while to recover but he eventually did, and I do honestly credit that to Linda’s presence in his life as she helped him move on

excerpt from “A Little thing called Life” by Linda Thompson

This decline and then rise can even be seen physically ⬇️

Left: Elvis in 1973, the day his divorce was finalized, where Priscilla says she was stricken by his appearance and worried for his health

Right: Elvis in 1974, visibly healthier, and performing in one of his best shows of a incredible tour

So again, Elvis went from enduring one of the worst periods of his life, declining mentally and physically, to improving and performing at his best again… all within the span of a year

I guess that’s why it breaks my heart when people act like Elvis’ last great moment was at 38 in the Aloha Special, and then every year after that was just downhill. He was always singing his heart out as best he could, even towards the end, and again, if his career was managed in his best interest and if his doctors acted in his best interest, I believe he would have many more moments like the Aloha special, he just wasn’t given enough time to do so

[c0pernicus]

I feel like I never really see people talk about just how bad the long term effects of prolonged abuse, or C-PTSD can really be in people, especially young people, and I wish it was talked about more.

I pretty much never talk about my own experiences for safety reasons, because I would always receive a whole mess if I did choose to try and tell others what I went through, and maybe that's what has made my experience with C-PTSD so bad, but its genuinely so debilitating.

The burn out, the exhaustion, the body aches and horrible sleep schedules and inability to maintain a job because my emotions and brain had really never recovered even years- half a decade- after everything stopped. The digestive issues, the memory problems, the entire lack of a sense of identity and self. The lack of want to put effort into my identity and self.

I feel like I'm chronically searching for someone that's supposed to be me. Constantly, I'm stuck now trying to validate a sense of self I no longer possess. Old passions, old hobbies, old things I liked and enjoyed- It feels like I've been stripped down to bone and nothing sticks anymore. If I have an interest it's very fleeting and I usually will drop it once I find I start to enjoy it, as if its been so heavily ingrained in my brain that peace and happiness and to just enjoy things isn't something I'm allowed. I've become incapable of thinking anything even neutral about myself at this point. I don't believe nearly anything anyone else says to me, and I feel very passive towards others in general if I'm not terrified of them instead. I lack friends and connections, and I constantly hide away from others.

I'm constantly frozen. I can't function on even a basic level if someone else is present in my home; I have to be doing what they're doing, or engaged in some way with what they're doing (Watching, observing, next to them at the very least and quietly doing something unobtrusive) or I can't do anything at all. If I am left alone I'm riddled with anxiety and my mood plummets, my intrusive thoughts are constant and like a horrible movie montage I can't turn off. Trying to lay down and sleep is no better, for years I've been stuck having to just occupy my brain until I pass out.

It's a constant ghost I just can't seem to exorcise from myself. No amount of trying to forgive or forget or let go or move on or accept has made a pebbles difference in the mountain I'm stuck under. I forget everything and anything except for what caused all of this; my wife and friend constantly cut me off to tell me that they've already heard what I'm telling from before from my own mouth, and they I know there are times where they let me continue like it's the first time I've ever told them the fact or the story and I'm simply none-the-wiser. I can't remember things I've done, things I need to do, events or recent days even. I feel stupid and airheaded on the best days, and I know it shows to others because they've told me before.

Work is hard because of the anxiety, the agoraphobia, the memory problems, the health problems. I'm sick constantly; I can't eat or retain food, I have the flu, I've caught Covid for the 8th time despite trying to be good about cleanliness when I leave the house and return. I can't eat a lot of food without being in pain, with it going right through me or sitting like a rock in my stomach for several days. My joints ache more often, my muscles are sore, my traps are solid to a concerning degree from the daily stress of just living with it all. I can't remember the last time my eyes weren't sunken in and purple-blue.

Therapists have only wanted to slap me with a diagnosis and an array of medications- none of which have worked. I've been told it's depression, it's anxiety, it's PTSD, it's bi-polar, it's BPD, it's psychotic depression, it's schizoaffective, it's DID. The DID one threw me for a loop, I'm not going to lie, but the rest were believable enough. I don't look at my medical charts anymore, so I don't know what I have or haven't been branded with by now. The meds and talk therapy never help, I never feel release, I don't believe words anymore- especially from strangers. The meds make the brain fog worse, or I feel numb, or people don't like the person I've become, or my self harming gets much worse, or I just want to kill myself enough to really try to.

Stress tips me over the edge so easily. The hallucinations suck and I resent them. They're a one way ticket to being unemployed and unfunctional for potentially months at a time, and it's humiliating after the fact as well. The last time I had a bad episode I believed there was a man living in my closet, and I couldn't go inside of it. I would hear him moving around inside, he'd yell and get so angry if you opened the door. I've thankfully forgotten the name I gave him; it was something stupid for sure.

I've become a miserable ghost, and I don't see any light at the end of the long tunnel. There is no way back to my body. I'm just lost and wandering and witnessing but never participating. It hurts the most to think of how I was before too many things piled up; the passion and the drive and the creativity. Always making something, always doing something, there was always some project or plan or thing I was doing that I felt pride for. I didn't care if I was weird to others, because I was confident in myself.

I just lay down now, when I can. I do my dishes and my laundry, I try to shower when it doesn't make me nauseous to. I take care of my cats and I work jobs infrequently. I sit with my parents disappointment in who I've become like it's an old friend, and we share coffee and reveries.

I exist, begrudgingly. That is the only thing I try to take pride in now.

[xtrablak674]

Debilitating Mental

Good morning Ms. Stone, while at the supermarket this morning I realized that my mental health can be monitored directly by seeing how often I am journaling and taking self portraits versus when I am not. Something that has been hard for me to determine is when I am having a depressive slump. I've gotten better, but this is something more tangible which makes it clearer. • 8:32 AM

Good morning. Is the correlation that you take more pictures and journal more when you're feeling in a better state or is it the inverse of that? - Ms. Stone iPhone) • 8:42 AM

Its exactly that, when my mental health is better I journal more and do my little mini-photoshoots when I go to the supermarket. The screenshots show the last three months and June. June and July I was nearly writing about something everyday. But these last two months my writings have continually diminished. • 8:52 AM

I haven't heard from you as much either.

Has anything specifically happened or do you think this is just a low swing? - Ms. Stone (iPhone) • 8:53 AM

The default of my depressive phases are withdrawal.

This is the thing that truly drives me crazy, my last few months have been relatively the same, no dramas, traumas, upsets or anything. And I understand that depression needn't have a specific trigger. Its just hella-frustrating when you're doing a good balance of exercise and diet and you take a depressive tumble right on your face. • 8:57 AM

I was contemplating whether I wanted to even post this discussion, but Ms. Stone asks such good questions, and I love the very meta-nature of using this mini-blog as a way of gauging how I am doing mentally.

None of this was really news to me, I used to be a window-seat demon, perched up there from the time I woke up until the sun stopped shining on my bare backside. Over the last two months, after I get in from my walk its like I never leave the bed, using it a a chaise after making it up. Taking in my television shows on my back as opposed to jacking into my Yamaha speakers for a more deluxe audio-experience.

Seriously, I thought I was just going through a new phase in my apartment where I just wanted to be more horizontal through the day, but over the last week or so I have felt my energy diminish so much that once in the bed, it was a trial to get up and leave it, even for the most innocuous of errands like flipping an album over or getting a drink of water.

I am known to have seasonal depression on top of my garden variety depression or dysthymia, and albeit we have literally moved from Summer into Fall, my mood change is usually relegated to the Winter equinox, when the amount of sun we are getting severely changes. I have noted also during the last couple of weeks I have been sucking up sun like Krypton's favorite last son, making sure that I was always position on the bed to catch the most rays.

The one thing I haven't done is talk about this depressive dip, and it was only my realizing my journaling was directly related to it that I shared it with Ms. Stone. I realize she has her own struggles with mental health issues and I thought my struggles could possibly shed light on her own, and assist her at some future time.

The other thing is I don't really see the point, the only other folks I am interacting with are the children, and I don't think it appropriate for me to bring up such a burdensome topic on folks who are still learning to navigating their own bodies and brains. Then there is that annoying purview of novices in the mental health arena, always asking you how you are. Which isn't really helpful. Life-Kit on NPR did a really good episode of how to approach depressed people or maybe it was anxious folks and interact with them.

I realize that I have become more isolated as I have gotten older, and generally speaking I don't have an issue with that. The thing that drives me a bit crazy is the fact that I don't have any control over when a depressive bout will show up and even with all the tools Ms. Kennedy gave me, I can sometimes still find myself at a loss, no matter how well I was doing previously, and this can be extremely frustrating.

[Photos by Brown Estate]

[microdosingwithjoe]

The Entourage Effect

Some people just want to get drunk or get high, and they could care less how they get there. Those people shouldn’t bother with this blog. This is about learning how to experience the high you want, when you want it, and how to get the most relief from your chronic ailment, so it affects your life as little as possible.

You might be a wine snob: Ahh, the complexity of wine; hundreds of taste combinations that determine the quality and craftsmanship of a given vintage. But even though you might perceive it differently, alcohol is one high, and the variations on that one high are more due to the psychological impacts from your environment than from the drug itself.

Then there's weed. It has millions of possible individual flavors and effects, and the way it's grown drastically affects not just the flavor and smell of the variety, but the high, and its value as a medicine as well. It is natural, and even two buds on the same branch can produce noticeably different highs.

To further complicate things, the effect of the strain on any given individual, or even on any given day, create effects that differ significantly from person to person, and from day to day.

But the most dominant characteristics of a strain will affect most people the same way, so we use sloppy classifications like indica, hybrid, and sativa to provide a basic guide to consumers. Add to this sensory complexity the fact that odorless, flavorless cannabinoids like CBN, and THCV contribute—sometimes massively—to the effects, as do terpenes. Flavonoids? Who knows? You can begin to understand how truly complex cannabis is.

In reality, what most people find to be a heavy indica, may send YOU into semi-upbeat cruise mode doing chores, as if the strain were mildly sativa, with no drowsiness at all. Depending on the state of your endocannabinoid system, a particular sativa might even induce a nap.

Mastering The Entourage Effect to suit your personal biology is the key to tailoring your high to suit your own moods and desires, or to getting just the right combination to stop the agonizing pain from your sciatica. I've dramatically improved my ability to treat my debilitating neck joint and disc issues, which are caused by inflammation caused by my injuries, but I've had zero luck in three years of trying to control my sciatica, which is neuropathic (nerve pain,) because I don't know enough about what mechanism in it I need to address, and I'm too old for med school. I will keep trying though, and maybe someone else will find an entourage effect that works for me too.

For my neck pain, I use strains rich in the terpene, caryophyllene (the smell in pepper, and the main reason oil of cloves stops a toothache) humulene (similar in effect to caryophyllene.) In the evenings, I sometimes add linalool, the main scent and taste of lavender and other purple flowers, including purple cannabis, and higher myrcene (evening,) which is the most common and a mostly-sedative terpene; or high limonene (daytime,) for a more energetic high. I also take a puff off a CBD vape pen. That’s my main entourage for MY neck pain; yours might be helped substantially, or not at all. It might be myrcene or limonene that rocks your world.

In my case, a strain that relies wholly on myrcene as an anti inflammatory just makes my neck feel worse, but myrcene is my friend (when I combine it with my go-to elements) to get a good night’s sleep.

Here are some basics. First of all, if all other factors are removed, cannabis with high myrcene levels and low limonene levels are more likely to relax, and when levels are reversed, you’re more likely to become energetic. Myrcene’s effects are intensified by the presence of the cannabinoid, CBN. CBN is what THC turns into when it gets old and oxidizes, but it can be in therapeutic levels in ‘fresh’ weed too. When those two get together, you might experience “Couch-Lock” ...or it might eliminate anxiety from a really bad day, or it might put you right to sleep-after a few potato chips. If limonene is combined with the terpene, alpha pinene, and the cannabinoid, THCV, you’re sweeping the floor, organizing drawers, having energized conversations…and your appetite is literally non-existent.

The entourage effect is complicated.

To simplify your life, start with the basics of UP and DOWN: do I want to relax, or do I want to whoop it up?

For most people, heavy myrcene combined with linalool, caryophyllene, and/or CBN will relax you, perhaps into oblivion. Limonene, with pinene and/or humulene and/or caryophyllene, can make you quite zippy, and adding linalool replaces the anxiety some may get from it with a sense of wellbeing.

The only way to start is to buy a couple of grams and try them out. Get the dispensary’s speediest sativa and their most sleepy indica. You’ll have a starting point. Try the sativa 6-8 hours before bedtime, and try the indica an hour or two before bed. If you dislike the effect of either, put it away for a week or so; if after a week it still has unwanted effects, toss it.

If you can, write down what you smell, taste, and feel in detail, trying to always use the same terms for an effect, positive or negative, and you’re on your way! The more strains you have, the more specific high you can get. Although every strain you buy will cost $6 to $15 most places, they are going to last forever because you're microdosing!

As always, only take one hit, and wait for 30 minutes before adding to the dose. Once you know what effects you can expect from a strain, and you want to get “high AF”, you can start with 2-3, but NO MORE, unless you’re going to bed soon. Bedtime is the only time you can overdose, but I highly recommend that you add CBD, to regulate the absorption of THC during sleep. After 8 hours of sleep, your ECS has reset enough to “wake and bake,” but you should never follow a heavy high night with a heavy high morning: try just taking one hit.

Once you know you like a strain, try drinking herbal tea 30-45 minutes before you dose. With energetic strains, try a tea similar (using Bigelow’s brands) to Lemon Zinger, or Orange & Spices, and for relaxants, try Sleep (chamomile, and lavender) tea. These make more of the terpenes you crave available, to enhance your experience.

[emoyuuta]

Sashisu vs Itafushikugi: an Astro Analysis

So this is going to be an analysis about these trios and the similarities and the differences they have (I’m also basing this on my precedent analyses about all six of them, feel free to check those to know more).

First of all, when analyzing different groups of people we have to keep in mind their social and generational planets.

Sashisu: Cancer Jupiter, Capricorn Saturn/Uranus/Neptune, Scorpio Pluto.

Itafushikugi: Leo Jupiter, Gemini Saturn, Aquarius (Megumi&Nobara) and Pisces (Yuuji) Uranus, Aquarius Neptune, Sagittarius Pluto.

The thing that could easily explain the overall mood of all of this is probably this meme:

Scorpio vs Sagittarius Pluto

This picture is especially representative of the difference between Scorpio and Sagittarius Pluto. Pluto defines the overall “existential mood”, the survival spirit of entire generations. It’s not a surprise that Scorpio Pluto kids (1984-1996 circa) were emo/scene teenagers, and that Sagittarius Pluto teenagers (1996-2008 circa)  now are “the meme kids”. Pluto is the planet of death and rebirth and “life cycles”, and it is in domicile in Scorpio. You can really understand how Scorpio Pluto kids were the conclusion of an era and the start of another, their job was (and still IS) to use the power they have, even if they think it’s scarce and not enough, to end whatever system existed before. And from the ruins of that emerges the Sagittarius Pluto generation.

Sagittarius is the “explorer” so it’s its job to travel through the wilderness and find another way of living, a new model to follow, so it’s normal that nowadays teens may feel a deep sense of “lostness” that they try to cover with “at least I’ll have fun”.

Saturn vs Uranus

Another reason why Sashisu may feel more “mature” compared to Itafushikugi is that they have that Capricorn Stellium really “grounds” them a lot. The fact that their sense of discipline and morality (Saturn), their views of innovation (Uranus) and their inspirations and their dreams (Neptune) have all the same common denominator. To quote another person from the same generation aka Nanami, it really looks like what they think they need is a 9-5 job that gets them enough money to retire early and then go finally live their life. That Capricorn energy, especially since it’s trailed by that Saturn in domicile, invites them to grit their teeth, to calculate your actions and stick to your plans, to “sacrifice” a bit because the results of those efforts are “delayed”, it’s like putting aside any spare coin you have and only a lot of time later you’ll see how much cash you made. Heck, I’d say that meeting them when they’re adults and then discovering that they too were young and vulnerable seems like a very Capricornian thing.

Itafushikugi’s social and generational planets lack earth energy, and that’s why their generation may look more “active” and dynamic.That air energy makes them more free-minded while the fire energy makes them more “fiery”. Their Saturn is in Gemini, which is a very weird placement because it’s debilitated or anything but you can already feel that struggle between a curious, “mercurial”, childish (or better, teenager-ish) sign and the hard job Saturn requires. I’d argue that this generation is lead by that Uranus (in domicile) in Aquarius, because if Sashisu were the people who discovered the system (Saturn) isn’t working anymore, then it’s up to younger kids to lead the revolution (Uranus).

It’s also very interesting how Yuuji is actually NOT part of the Aquarius Uranus generation. He’s the youngest character in the series and his Uranus is already in Pisces. I think it’s a distinguishing trait that makes him seem a bit different from his peers, like standing out as the “weirdo” in the group because his sense of originality is different from them.

Cancer Jupiter/Capricorn Saturn vs Gemini Saturn/Sagittarius Pluto

It’s very interesting how both generations present an opposition among social/generational planets.

Sashisu’s one is marked by the Cancer Jupiter theoretically opposing three Capricorn planets, but I think that overall the Jupiter/Saturn is the most important one because those planets represent concepts that seem to be antithetical. Cancer (exalted) Jupiter incites you to share your resources with others, no matter if it’s influence, information or material stuff or just “gut feeling”, to create a warm and welcoming environment. Capricorn Saturn (in domicile) tells you to stick to the rules, to deal with the responsibilities dumped on you by higher structures, no matter how hard they are. The one who has the tightest opposition here is Shoko, while Geto doesn’t really have this aspect because the two planets are too far away, but he has so much Saturnian energy that I think this works for him too.

Itafushikugi’s generation is highlighted by the Gemini Saturn/Sagittarius Pluto opposition. If Saturn is related to rules and authoritative figures, and Pluto represents regenerations and crave for power, we could say that there’s an innate feeling of antipathy for any social norm or structure, which could literally try to prevent their rise to power. It’s interesting how the person who has the tightest opposition is Yuuji, followed by Megumi, while Nobara basically escapes it (Yuuji risking execution, Megumi defied the laws by saving Yuuji, and Nobara...well she’s the least tied to that occurrence).

Similarities and differences among their personal planets

It’s very curious that Sashisu all have their Suns square their Moons, which highlights a struggle between what they feel and their sense of identity. I have already said this, but a very very peculiar thing is that Geto and Shoko’s Suns are perfectly squaring their Suns (Aquarius and Scorpio), and so do their Moons (Taurus and Aquarius). So Shoko’s Moon is conjunct to Geto’s Sun, while Geto’s Moon is opposing Shoko’s Sun. I think that this scene is the perfect representation of this kind of synastry, it’s like Shoko gets him but Geto doesn’t think so because his idea of her seems to be opposite to what he feels.

Gojo’s Moon doesn’t really square his Sun, and the fact that both are in Jupiterian signs (Sagittarius and Pisces) may ease just a teeny tiny bit this aspect.

Another thing that is very very interesting about Sashisu is that all three of them have Venus in Capricorn.

Itafushikugi, instead, all have Suns inconjunct their Moons, so that kind of struggle is not there. There’s kind of a parallel: Nobara’s Sun sign is the same as Megumi’s Moon (both in Leo), while Megumi’s Sun and Nobara’s Moon are in opposite signs (Capricorn and Cancer). The planets are all far away from each other so it’s not a real conjunction/opposition, BUT Megumi and Nobara’s Moon (being at early and late degrees) are actually kind of conjuct (?) each other.

Also not a parallel but let’s not forget that both generations have a person with a “what the fuck” chart (in very different ways: Geto with his six (6) planets in Capricorn (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Saturn, Uranus and Neptune) vs Nobara and her five planets in domicile (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus and Uranus).

Somebody said that Yuuji and Geto seem a bit similar, the closest explanation I can think about it is that they both are Venusian Moons (Libra and Taurus) with an (exalted) Capricorn Mars (why such gentle souls have a bazooka in their hands???). Actually, all Sashisu have dignified Mars: Gojo and Shoko’s are in domicile in Scorpio, and Geto has an exalted Mars in Capricorn; Megumi has also Mars in Scorpio, Yuuji in Capricorn, only Nobara has it in Leo, which means it’s not dignified BUT it’s very very tightly conjunct her Sun and trining her Pluto so it’d be an insult to not take that into consideration.

Another difference between the two generations is that in Sashisu each person lacks an element (Gojo lacks Air placements while Shoko and Geto lack Fire placements), while Itafushikugi all have at least one planet in each sign.

As a conclusion, here are some elements that jump to the eye when analyzing each character’s chart:

- Gojo: enough Jupiterian energy to contrast those four Capricorn planets

- Geto: Six planets in Capricorn + Sun in Aquarius, aka SEVEN Saturnian planets

- Shoko: both Mars and Pluto in Scorpio, but only Pluto possibly in her 1st house while Mars slips in her 12th house

- Yuuji: Pisces/Aquarius energy

- Nobara: Leo stellium (Sun, Mars, Jupiter), Sun very closely conjunct Mars and Sun perfectly trine Pluto.

- Megumi: Pluto in the 4th house and Jupiter in the 12th house perfectly conjuct.

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai Chapter 12

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 5651

Chapter notes: Nothing terrible, a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff. The usual, haha

++++

Work came far too early the next day and you tiredly rubbed your eyes as you made your way towards the nurse’s station where Lizzy was standing, a coffee in her outstretched hand.

"Wow, you weren't lying when you texted you looked like a zombie." She quipped, "Aren't you glad I got you a pick me up?"

"Always an angel." You murmured, pulling the coffee to your lips and sighing into it as you leaned your elbows against the counter.

"So, I saw him." Lizzy replied smoothly.

"Who?" You asked, eyes still firmly shut as you focused on not sleeping where you stood.

"Dr. Jeon, of course." Lizzy sighed, slapping your arm.

"Oh." You said, eyes opening and staring down at your paper cup. Honestly, you'd forgotten about him in the aftermaths of a late night giving physical comfort to Jimin and an early morning at the hands of the sweltering heat.

"Oh?" Lizzy repeated blankly, "Y/N, no physical description does him justice and all you can say is oh? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," you said softly, "just really tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh," Lizzy smirked, "really? What exactly was keeping you up, my dear friend?"

"Take a wild guess." You chuckled and Lizzy squealed like a teenage girl.  "You act like you haven't gotten any in months!" You complained.

"I haven't!" She whined, "I'm living vicariously through you so you have to be generous with me."

"I am not sharing the details of my sex life with you, Lizzy." You smirked and she pouted.

"Well, the least you could do is give me regular updates of the good doctor."

“Lizzy!" You complained, "I've got better things to do, you know. Besides, I have a boyfriend and I don't think he'd like me paying so much attention to another man."

"Again, I am living vicariously through you. My appetite must be filled or I cannot be responsible for my actions." She insisted.

The doors to your right suddenly swung open and you glanced over to find Jungkook walking towards the nurse’s station, already dressed in his scrubs and dark hair pushed back across his head.

You watched as Lizzy practically drooled and you had to stifle your groan. "I was told you had a file for the Gibbons surgery." Jungkook said, coming to stand beside you at the nurse’s station, his gaze trained on Lizzy.

"Oh, yes I do, let me just grab that for you." She squeaked.

You stood silently, staring at the wall and squeezing your coffee just a little too tight and you noticed Jungkook incline his head towards you. "Good morning, doctor."

"Ah, yes, good morning." You replied awkwardly.

"You slept well; I trust?"

"Yes, I slept fine, thank you."

Jungkook nodded silently before the two of you plunged back into silence and Lizzy finally found the file, frowning at you with furrowed eyebrows as she handed him the file. "Here you are, Dr. Jeon."

"Thank you." He replied, flipping it open and waltzing back through the doors he'd come through.

"What the hell was that?" Lizzy asked.

"What was what?" You asked, casually.

"Oh, no, no. You can't act all coy and avoid the elephant in the room. The air was so tense just now, even I could feel it and I'm pretty oblivious. What happened between you and the good doctor? You only met him yesterday!"

You sighed, fiddling with the lid of your drink and shrugging. "Look, it would take too long to explain and right now I honestly am not in the mood for it. I'll explain it to you someday...maybe."

Lizzy pouted and you smiled softly. "Well, I suppose I can't pry it out of you, but just know I will probably die of curiosity."

"That's a shame," you hummed, "I was really growing fond of you." Lizzy's expression turned sour and you laughed, lifting your cup at her and backing away. "I'll see you later."

++++

Today you were spending most of the day in the blissful clutches of labor and delivery. Under normal circumstances you hated the labor and delivery unit. There were moments of reprieve where the mothers were thanking you profusely for the gift of an epidural but usually there was a lot of shouting and screaming, especially if you couldn't make it to their room in the 2.5 seconds after they requested your services.

However, anywhere that was not forcing you into Jungkook's company was a welcome relief and since he was spending the majority of his morning in trauma surgery, you were happy to greet your new favorite ward.

"You've got an epidural in room 12." One of the nurses sighed in lieu of a greeting. "She's been asking for you for the last 30 minutes in between crying and hitting her husband for ‘putting her through this.’"

"Oh goody." You smiled. "I suppose I'll head that way, then."

You were honestly trying to like the maternity unit, you really were. Babies and life were beautiful things and of course you knew that, but the ugly head of debilitating pain always reared its head in the form of screaming mother's to be and that could be overwhelming for even the most practiced of physicians. You were more used to your patients making no noise at all because 9 times out of 10 you were assigned to some sort of surgery that didn't involve neonatal work but there was always that occasion. Today you at least had 2 cesarean sections and that was an area you felt you could thrive in.

Despite your best efforts at keeping a positive attitude, you were absolutely exhausted by the time you slouched into your seat in the cafeteria and Lizzy looked up at you from her yogurt and grinned. "Babies got you down?"

"No!" You insisted, sitting straighter, "in fact, I'm having the time of my life over there. I'm just tired from last night, that's all."

"OK." Lizzy grinned and you rolled your eyes at her.

"So how has your morning been?" You asked, unrolling your sandwich and picking through it for any tomatoes and dropping them on Lizzy's plate.

"I suppose I can't complain. I really only had to draw a couple vials of blood and give one sponge bath. You know I'm jinxing myself right now, though, right?"

"Probably," you admit with a grin, "you'll have to let me know how things go the rest of your shift."

"What about you, Ms. L&D? How's your shift really going?"

You shrugged, swallowing your bite. "It's OK, the usual, you know? There is a sense of freedom, though."

"Really? Normally you say it makes you feel like you've been given a prison sentence."

You laughed, nodding and crumbling the sandwich wrapper in your hands as you gobbled half the sandwich in one bite. At this rate, trying to avoid conversation with your friend was going to cause indigestion. "Yeah, that's normally the case. Today isn't so bad though, I find I suddenly have the stomach for it."

"What changed?"

"The scenery."

"The scenery?" Lizzy asked, eyebrows rising, "I don't get it. Did they get some new potted plants or something?"

You glanced down at your watch before standing and stretching. "Hey, I've gotta go take a quick power nap before I head back to maternity. We can chat later, OK?"

"Fine," Lizzy pouted, "but you've gotta stop avoiding my questions. I'm just going to keep asking."

"I know you will." You grinned, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth and walking away with a wave.

++++

The on-call room in your hospital was an unfortunate mix of three sets of bunk beds, one single twin, and a mini fridge on a small wooden table that looked like it was about to give up the ghost. Thankfully no one was in there when you arrived so you dropped down onto the one single mattress (the coveted single twin was prime real estate in the room) and flipped yourself back to bury your head in the pillow. You had an hour until your next scheduled appointment (unless you got paged) and you intended to use the opportunity catching up on the sleep you'd missed last night.

Just as your eyelids were becoming heavy with sleep the door clicked softly as it opened and closed and you pouted, keeping your eyes firmly shut as you grasped at the tendrils of sleep now escaping your vision.

"Sorry." Came the soft baritone and you resisted the urge to shiver. His voice had always been deep but age had served to deepen it further.

"It's fine." You mumbled, refusing to open your eyes to look at him, even as he took the bottom bunk beside you. You could hear the springs squeaking as he shifted a few times and almost smiled. "If you're looking for a comfortable way to lay, you'll be hard pressed to find it. The beds here are all a bit sad, aside from this single mattress that Dr. Watson affectionately named "Bertha"."

"Charming name." Jungkook quipped. "You don't happen to need to leave in the next few minutes, do you?"

You smiled, opening your eyes and glancing at the clock by the door. "I've still got 40 minutes."

"OK," He sighed, "well dibs after you leave."

"Fair enough." You nodded, closing your eyes.

"So," Jungkook murmured after a few minutes and you began to resign yourself to the idea that you probably weren't going to be getting much sleep. "I never knew you had an interest in medicine."

"To be fair, we never really 'knew' each other."

"We did when we were kids." He said softly and you opened your eyes, turning to look at him.

"Yes, we were friends when we were kids but then you got pretty mean for a while. Never did give me a satisfying reason why, either."

He sighed, shrugging. "Because I was a stupid kid. I really don't have a good excuse for my behavior back then. I just hated that we were always forced together by our mom's and I took it out on you, even though it wasn't your fault. I guess it was right around the time that I started making friends with the other boys around and they were kind of mean about girls so I just started reflecting what I was seeing. I am sorry, though."

You chewed on the inside of your lip as you pondered your next words. "Doesn't really explain what happened in high school or, you know, when we got these." You raised your wrist slightly for him to see his name, partially obscured by the green of your scrubs.

"I didn't know what I really wanted back then." He sat up suddenly, leaning forward onto his knees and wringing his hands together. "See, the thing is-"

The chirping of your pager interrupted his next words and you glanced down at the message, frowning. "Someone is begging for an epidural up in L&D." You mumbled. Standing, you shoved your hands through your hair to try and tame it and readjusted the elastic of your pants. "Sorry."

You didn’t give him any time to reply before walking through the door and back out towards the maternity ward. The rest of the day was spent too busy to even breathe and by the time your shift ended you were slumping towards the door that hid your car from view.

“Doctor Y/L/N! Y/N, wait!” You turned to watch as Jungkook came to a halt by your side. “I’m off in 20 minutes, I was hoping we could grab a coffee or something and continue our conversation from this afternoon.”

“I don’t really think it’s such a good idea,” you said softly. “I’ve gotta get home to make dinner for my boyfriend and considering who you are…well, I don’t think Jimin would like that so much.”

“Considering who I am, maybe I could have 5 minutes of your time to just explain myself.”

“We talked about this, Jungkook.” You frowned.

“Y/N, I was 18 years old-”

You could see Lizzy walking down the hallway towards the two of you and the last thing you needed right now was to explain what your history was with the new surgical resident so you shook your head and stepped towards the door.

“I’ve gotta go, Dr. Jeon. Let’s just leave the past in the past, OK? Enjoy the rest of your shift.”

++++

Later that evening after you’d finished eating and the AC repair man had come and gone you looked up at the clock on the mantle, frowning. It was 9 o’clock and Jimin still wasn’t home. Sometimes things did run later with divorce cases and especially with this new couple, but he’d been strangely quiet the last few hours, normally he was sending you at least one eye rolling emoji if things ran overtime but so far…nothing.

You were lying in bed with a book before you heard the sound of his keys in the lock. Shuffling feet and a softly placed brief case met your ears before you finally saw him stepping through the door. “You’re home late.” You murmur softly and he jumped in surprise.

“You scared me.” He chuckles, before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed, laying his head against your stomach and sighing. “I’m sorry I’m home so late.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” You questioned, running your fingers through his hair.

“Didn’t really get the opportunity.” You can hear the frown in his voice and in turn you found yourself frowning.

“Normally you manage to find time.” You wish you had better control of the bite in your voice but as it was you were too emotionally exhausted to really try.

Jimin sat up to look at you, leaning against the headboard. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“What was the giveaway?” You mumbled, pulling your book back into your lap and resuming the page you were on last.

Jimin sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “Baby, I was honestly just really busy today. On top of all of my other cases, I had three new clients today in office and then had to go into court to oversee the completion of one of our divorces and sign a ton of paper work. Then, to top it all off, Mrs. Johnson wanted to meet to discuss some details of the divorce with her husband. He’s trying to shift some funds into another account outside of the country or something, I don’t know. Look, you know I would have messaged you if I could have, I just really didn’t have time.”

“You’ve had busier days than that before and managed to find time, I don’t know why today was so different.” You sniffed, putting your book down and sliding under the covers, turning out your light. “Let’s just talk in the morning, I’m tired.”

“Babe,” Jimin groaned, flipping you onto your back and hovering his face over yours, stroking his thumb down your cheek. “Come on, tomorrow is our anniversary. Please, let’s not fight. I want to enjoy our day off together.”

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just really stressed at work these days. “

“Is something going on? Someone bothering you?” He asked gently, peering down at you in the dark.

This was not the time for this conversation. What were you supposed to do, tell your boyfriend that your soulmate had reentered your life? That he was trying to make amends and “talk”? That was a conversation you did not foresee going well so you smiled, shaking your head.

“No, nothing like that. Just medical stuff, you know. I was back in the labor and delivery department today; you know how I feel about that.”

“Will you be there next shift?” He asked, laying his hand across your stomach.

“No, they only need me sometimes. Usually Dr. Gray takes those shifts but she was out of town so I was filling in. I don’t know, work has just been stressful and I know it’s not your fault. I just felt upset that you didn’t call or text or anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know what was going on. I’ll be more mindful of it in the future, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered, reaching up to kiss him softly. “Did you think about anything you wanted to do tomorrow?”

Jimin smiled, wrapping his arm tight around your waist and pouting in thought. “I for sure want to sleep in, then some lazy sex, breakfast in bed, the usual.”

“And who’s making the breakfast, hmm?” You teased and he grinned.

“We’ll order in, how about that?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” He yawned, standing from the bed and stretching his hands above his head, “you gonna be asleep by the time I get back?”

“Most likely.” You grinned.

“Well then, see you in the morning, my love.” He leaned over, kissing soft into your lips and you sighed, linking your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Goodnight.” You whispered against his mouth.

++++

You woke to the smell of pancakes, inhaling deeply and rolling to your side, hand flailing out against an empty mattress. Eyes blinking blearily open, you glanced around your room, but Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

You could hear pans banging in the kitchen and you smiled, laying back against your mattress. The cotton of your duvet brushed against bare legs and you stretched your arms above your head. You liked the idea of Jimin making you breakfast in bed, though he wasn’t very quiet about it.

You stood, long shirt drooping to your knees and made your way out into the living room. Jimin stood at the counter top, carefully cracking eggs, but when you entered the room he whined loudly, stomping his foot. “Ah, you’re supposed to still be asleep. I wanted to surprise you.” He pouted.

You smiled, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I was thinking…maybe we could skip the food and go straight to dessert.” You whispered, nipping at his chin and he turned to look down at you, eyes darkening.

“Trust me, you’re gonna wanna eat. You’ll need a lot of energy for what I have in store.”  He replied; husky.

Your stomach churned with electricity, chest crackling in excitement. “I like the sound of that. I don’t wanna wait, though.”

You kissed at his jaw, making your way towards his lips and he melted into you, mouth hot against your own as you opened to him, running a hand across his lower abdomen. “Mmm, food first, you naughty baby.” He replied, slapping you hard on the butt and you yelped, glaring before sulking back to the bedroom.

“I was thinking we could lounge and watch a movie today.” Jimin said, walking back into the bedroom a few minutes later with a tray full of food. You held it for him as he sat down, placing it in the center and grabbing for a piece of toast.

“Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He shook his head, pushing his fork into one of the sausages on his plate and taking a bite. “No, you can choose.”

“What if I choose something so horrendously sappy that you want to vomit?”

“Then I would still love you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “but I’d have to go to therapy for all the damage inflicted. On your dime, of course.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl on the tray and popping it into your mouth.

“Let’s finish breakfast and then we can watch a movie.”

“What about sex?” You pouted and he smirked, tweaking your nose.

“Who said we need to be in the bedroom for that? We could multitask, you know.”

“I like the sound of that.” You purred, leaning over to give him a kiss.

++++

Later that evening, after making dinner together and laughing late into the night, lounging back into the cushions of the couch. Jimin ran to grab something from the bedroom, promising a big surprise. You watched after him as his figure disappeared into the dark of your bedroom, heart thumping eagerly in your chest.

He returned shortly, a small gift bag in his hand and grinned, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to get you something special. We’ve been together 8 years now, which is incredible, don’t you think? Anyway. This year just feels really special and I wanted to get you something big; something that would remind you how much I love you.”

Your heart raced in your chest; pounding against your ribcage. A small, blue velvet box rested inside the bag and you reached in, breath stilling in your lungs. Jimin watched you eagerly, eyes bright and lips rubbing together in anticipation as you slowly opened the box.

“Oh…” A pair of sapphire earrings blinked up at you from the cushion of their casing. Nothing like the engagement ring you’d been expecting.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“Nothing. They’re beautiful, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I…I just assumed…” You trailed off, bottom lip wobbling. All that anticipation built up and still…no ring.

“What did you assume?”

“Are you ever going to propose?” You whispered, and you could already feel the burn of your eyes filling with tears.

Jimin sighed, rubbing at his temples in aggravation and laying back into the couch. “Y/N, I really don’t like when you pressure me.”

“When have ever I pressured you?” You cried, swiping at a tear as it slipped down your cheek. “I’ve never said anything!”

“It’s not with words, baby. You think I haven’t seen the magazines you leave around, wedding rings, wedding dresses, ring sizes? I’m not obtuse, Y/N. I know you want to get married and I know we’ve been together a long time, but I’m just not there yet. Marriage is just a social construct, like soulmates. Just the government and the media trying to get us to do what they want.”

“What?” You gaped, brushing angrily at the tears staining your cheeks, “where is this even coming from? You’ve never told me you thought so poorly of marriage. We both agreed that we don’t like the whole soulmates thing, but marriage? I thought we were on the same page! It’s been 8 years, Jimin!”

“I just don’t know if I’m a marriage type of guy!” He huffed and you glared at him.

“You should have figured that out 8 years ago before dragging me along and wasting my time. I could have been married by now.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. I didn’t say I don’t want to get married, I said I don’t know if I do.”

“That’s practically the same thing.” You hissed, pulling your arm away from him as he reached out for you. You stood, legs wobbling with emotion.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and right now if I pushed myself to get married, I feel like it would really ruin a good thing. Please, just give me more time. You’re the only one I could ever actually envision myself marrying.”

“Then why won’t you?” You fussed, crossing your arms over your chest. He ruffled his hair in aggravation, standing and walking towards you carefully, watching your every move as though you might take off running, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“I love you. More than anyone in this entire world and I want to share my life with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready for marriage right now. I’m only 31.”

“How much longer are you going to make me wait?” You whispered, “I can’t wait around forever. I want a marriage and children, Jimin. Don’t string me along if you really don’t want that.” You looked up at him, his dark hair hanging down into his eyes.

“Just give me a little more time.” He pleaded, pulling you tighter into him, “please.”

You sighed, heart heavy in your chest. In the end, you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was your best friend and the only man you’d ever really wanted. You were willing to wait a little while longer. “Fine,” you agreed, “but you need to figure this out, Jimin. I can’t wait around forever and I won’t. I deserve more than that.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, “I promise I’ll be thinking about it and I’ll give you an answer. Just give me…just give me a year, one year. Please.”

“OK.” You nodded, “One year. But then you’ll have to make up your mind. Marriage and children may not be important to you, but it’s important to me.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. You melted against him, lips warm against yours and you inhaled deeply as you pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, pulling from his arms and retrieving the gift he’d gotten you. “I was thinking…I got you a gift too and it’s in the bedroom. Why don’t I wear both your gift and my gift…and nothing else?”

Jimin grinned wolfishly, holding your hair out of your face as you slid the earrings into place. “That sounds like a really good idea.”

You looked up at him and he smiled, running the pad of his thumb against your ear. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him into the bedroom.

++++

“So, I was thinking. We should do a welcome dinner for Dr. Jeon. It’s been two weeks now and I’m looking for an excuse to get obnoxiously drunk and not be judged for it. Plus, getting to look at his face for a couple hours is like a cherry on top of that already beautiful cake.” Lizzy spun her straw in her drink, feet kicked up on the seat across the table from her.

You glanced down beside you, the dirty soles of her sketchers greeting you. She smiled at you, cheek dimpled and you took another bite of your mashed potatoes. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you’d been giving a longer lunch than normal, so you’d indulged in calorie dense cafeteria food to sooth you.

“Your bias is showing.” You said, staring over at her, spoon hanging from your bottom lip and she scoffed.

“I’m not biased! We’ve always had a welcome dinner for new doctors so it’s not like it’s a weird thing to suggest. I wouldn’t even be surprised if one was already being planned by the supe. Come on, where’s your party spirit?”

“Left it at home.” You shrugged, picking at the roll on your plate. It was a little stale, but it was cafeteria food, after all.

“Is this seat taken?” You looked up to find Jungkook standing beside you, peering down at the seat that Lizzy’s feet currently occupied. Lizzy quickly sat up, dropping her feet back down to the ground and smiling wide, waving for him to sit down.

“No, of course not! Sit down doctor. We were actually just talking about you!”

You glared over at her and she smiled pretty, pushing a corkscrew curl out of her face. Jungkook took the seat beside you, the legs of his chair squealing against the linoleum tiles and he looked between the two of you.

“You were talking about me?” He asked, eyes wide, “good things, I hope.” He smiled and you could practically see Lizzy melt.

“Of course.” She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and you looked at her like she’d sprouted a third head. She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter and leaning forward. “Actually, we were just talking about how we should throw you a welcome dinner. We do it for all the new doctors, or at least the ones we like.”

Jungkook chuckled good-naturedly and you wanted to die. “Ah, yeah, Dr. Ramirez actually mentioned that to me earlier. I think he said the administration is planning one for this Saturday night.”

“Excellent!” Lizzy beamed, “we usually do it in the breakroom since we can’t all take the night off to go out to eat, but we can spare a few minutes to stop by and say hello. Plus, the catering is pretty rad so it’s good for moral.”

You smiled, nodding, “I’m certainly never opposed to free food.”

Jungkook looked over at you, lips quirking at the edges and you looked back down at your food. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time, then.”

Lizzy’s pager beeped and she swore, looking down at it with a sigh. “Duty calls. Anyway, Y/N, I’ll find you later before I leave. I’ve got a dentist appointment so I’m gonna be leaving a little earlier today.”

You nodded, waving her off and she smiled, waving to the two of you before making her way out of the cafeteria and out of sight. You could feel your shoulders, coiled in tension as the sleeve of Jungkook’s scrubs rubbed against yours. He said nothing for a moment, just munching at one of the meatballs from off of his spaghetti and you took another bite of your potatoes.

They were nearly gone and you mourned their loss.

“I like your earrings.” He said suddenly and you looked up at him, fingers going to touch the sapphire studs in your ears.

“Thank you. They’re from Jimin, for our 8 year anniversary.”

“He chose well,” he remarked, looking down at you, “they really suit you. He’s a lucky guy.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, shoving a large bite of stale roll in your mouth to occupy yourself. You still had 10 minutes left in your break and didn’t intend to stand on your feet unless you absolutely had to.

“Lizzy seems nice.” He remarked and you nodded.

“She is; she’s my best friend. You gonna try and date her too?”

Jungkook huffed a laugh, looking down at you. “All I said was she’s nice. I’m just trying to make conversation Y/N. I thought you said you don’t want to talk about the past?”

“I don’t.” You sniffed.

“Well, then what would you like to talk about?”

“Preferably nothing.”

“Come on, Y/N, we’re colleagues, let’s try to get along, hmm?” He chuckled as you shook some hair from your face, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Fine, you’re right. How’s your residency going?” You turned to look at him and he smiled bright. It made your heart ache but you refused to shrink from it.

“Well, it’s only been a couple weeks, but I’m pretty happy with it so far. The people are really nice, the hospitals facilities are excellent. I didn’t think I’d be getting to work with such state of the art technology so that’s been really exciting. Plus, my parents were thinking about coming to visit this weekend so I’ll get the opportunity to bring them to the hospital and show them around before the welcome dinner.”

“How are your parents?” You smiled, “I haven’t seen them in years. I think the last time was just after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree.”

“They’re great. They’ve been traveling around the world a lot. Making me look like a chump with all their cool adventures. What about your family? How are they?”

“They’re all really good. My parents are mostly just chilling. My dad is still working so my mom joined a Zumba club to keep herself entertained. Ella is actually getting married in about 3 months as well, so that’s really exciting.”

“Yeah, she actually sent my family and me an invite. I’m really happy for her.”

“She sent you an invite?” You asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I know, it seems crazy right? We made amends years ago, though, so all is well.”

“Wait, really?” You asked, turning to face him and he nodded.

“Yeah, she didn’t tell you?” At the shake of your head, he continued, “I was a sophomore in college and one day I just decided to call her and check in, see how she was doing. I wanted to apologize to her for dragging her through so much crap, it was never my intention. I really valued her friendship at a time when I felt like I was going crazy and losing it was pretty painful. We talked it out and she forgave me. I’m really glad she found her soulmate, she deserves to be happy.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.” You frowned, finishing off the last bite of your food.

“She probably thought she was sparing you, by not talking about…well, about me. Anyway, yeah, she sent me an invite and I’m excited to say hi to her and Michael. Have you met him yet?”

“Yeah, briefly last year, not long after they met.” You said, distracted. Your pager suddenly beeped and you glanced down at it. “Ah, I’ve gotta go, but it was nice talking Jeon.”

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he called as you stood up, grabbing your tray. You paused to look at him. “You’ll be at the dinner, right?”

“I work that night, so I’m sure I’ll sneak in at some point to grab some food.”

“Come say hi?” He asked carefully, “I bet my parents would love to say hi.”

You looked down at him, dark hair swept to the side of his face and looking so handsome you almost couldn’t look away. “Sure,” you quipped with a shrug, “I’ll make sure I say hi.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You nodded before spinning around and going to return your tray, making your way back out into the hallway.

++++

Ahhh. This chapter was so fun to write! The more I write this story, the more I love it. I am so, so excited for the next few chapters to come. Some interesting things are gonna be happening ^^ Also, I have a job interview tomorrow. Wish me luck! <3

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

Copyright © 2018 by taeken-my-heart (Nora.) All rights reserved.

[mimithings97]

Expensive Taste (M)

Summary: Jimin? Bound to a bed you say? Wet and naked you say? An opportunity you'll probably never see again you say? Then you better fucking take it.

Pairing: Jimin x Y/N

Genre: Pwp, smut (and nothing else), subJimin

Warnings: Bondage, sensory deprivation, face riding, shoe fucking (yes, he fucks a Loubiton), edging, use of sex toys, masturbation, swearing, alcohol consumption ... a lot goes on for 3.5k

Word Count: 3.5k

Fuck, if this isn’t the hottest shit you’ve ever seen in your life. You didn’t realise just looking at something could make your pussy throb and make you want to suck dick like you truly enjoyed it.

Park Jimin spread out on his bed, blindfolded, soaking wet from his shower, naked, is that sight.

Getting him to sub was a task, but how can a boy refuse when you’re wearing the Chanel lingerie and Loubs he bought with you last month. Like hell were you normally a sub yourself but when Jimin first took you home from that £250 candlelit meal to his penthouse with the intent to ruin you, a girl had to oblige. It wasn’t exactly a task to complain about when he’s forcing your fourth orgasm out of you. 

But now into the third month of the mega fancy dates, the introductions as his ‘girlfriend’ at the executive functions and balls and the intense, but totally satisfactory sex life you two had partaken in, it was finally time for the biggest step in the relationship. Sub Jimin.

“Baby if you’ve left I swear to fuck you’re on sex toys and your fingers for a month.”

Tied up and blindfolded and still running his filthy mouth like his dick isn’t hard and at my mercy.

“I’m here.”

His abs untense a fraction as his body slumps back into the bed realising the proximity is close enough that you’re either on or at the end of the bed. 

His body glistens, with sweat or still wet from the shower, you don’t know - also don’t care, because, the way the red hues of the mood lighting carve against his abs and chest is a god-like display for the eyes. The sheets are slightly ruffled around his from when you’d made work of lowering and tying him down to the bed, but the sight is just poetic in front of you all the same. 

His lips part with an apprehensive sigh as you continue to leave him hanging on his own thought and imagination. You know sensory deprivation. Fuck, he’s played that card on you more time than he’s fucked you from behind, so you can just sense the way his entire body tingles with the want for touch, sound, sight, anything to clue him in on how you’ll play him. But just like tasting your own medicine goes, this is going to be a dirty game.

He feels the bed sink below one of his feet first, then it’s the slightest touch on the base of his feet, normally ticklish for him, but like a fire lit and vibrating up his body at this moment. 

You want to string this out a little, play with soft touches up his body like he’s made of strings, but the awaiting dick in your sights calls to another, much more feral part of your brain.

You’re back off the bed and walking to the bedside table where your wine, vibrator, buttplug and lube lay in an organised display. You hear him shift on the bed, and see the way his bottom lip is now caught in a tight clench between teeth - whether to suppress the urge to speak or for him to feel, something, anything, at this point, you can’t quite tell. 

It’s the wine you take. White. And cold. Cold enough that perspiration trickles down the glass and onto your finger, so your press the cold liquid that gathers onto one of his nipples. You earn a grunt in return as he releases his lip, head perking forwards as if he thinks he’ll be able to see what you’re doing. 

Continuing with the task at hand, you ungraciously and unceremoniously pour half the contents of the glass onto his naked and bearing skin. This time, he gasps, swears under his breath probably at the cold, maybe at the sensation the cold brings, and your mouth twitches at his reaction - you almost think you see his cock twitch too in your peripherals. 

You finish the rest of the glass yourself, making the sound of the cold alcohol trickling down your throat as apparent as possible.

“What is it?” He’s not asking because he cares, he’s asking because he needs to hear you speak, needs something to grasp onto so he’s not in this debilitating limbo of silence.

“Taste for yourself.” You lean over the bed and place your mouth against his stomach, licking, sucking and slurping up the liquid that had come to settle between the silk smooth skin at the lines of his abs and the pit of his bellybutton. Then, you find your way up to his mouth and latch onto the thick lips that lay open and waiting for you. 

But you are off him before he can get any further into the action. And he pants, clamping his lips together after swirling his tongue around his mouth to pick up the leftover wine that spilt.

He smirks at the same time you do and you know he’s got it, the rich prick. 

“The Montrachet… 2016.” 

Of course, he’s right. You figured the most with that smirk and the way he’d been drilling into you how he was gonna buy that same wine company that cultivates the wine so glamorously spread across his body.

“And who told you, you could raid my wine. That’s three grand a fuckin- shit.” You want to laugh at his stutter, but opening your mouth to it causes a moan to spill instead as you mount his cold, wet abdomen, and instantly get to the task of rolling you naked lower half against him. You’d undressed everything but the Loubitons as soon as the blindfold hit his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He’s breathless now that he finally has you warm and skin to skin on him.

“Thought you wanted another taste baby. Didn’t want it to go to waste since it was so expensivee-ah.” You lift yourself off, pussy throbbing, before the sensation spreading dangerously down to your toes is too hard to turn away from.

You work your way, on hands and knees up to his mouth, placing a chaste kiss against him before hovering just out of reach, so close his breathing that he’s trying so hard to keep at bay, dries your lips.

“Isn’t that what you wanted, baby.”

“Yeh,” his voice, still low, still heavy with apprehension is cut off as you push up on your knees and then lower yourself onto his unsuspecting lips.

He smells wine and wetness before he is greeted by the warmth of it, and his lips pucker with tongue instantly finding its way into you. He hums and you moan, sensations of pleasure spiking your body instantly despite you already knowing your every move.

“Taste good huh?” And his hum in affirmation, drawn out longer than the first, spikes into you more than you were ready for, so your hand seeks the headboard and your hips begin to move, fucking that sweet mouth of his.

Wet tongue darts out into your cunt, pressing flat and firm and then delving deep inside so that you can move your hips up and down on it. Your clit goes unattended until you shift yourself forward so it presses to his nose and despite your moans and the way he is practically airless underneath you, you’re sure you hear him inhale your scent.

And, you can’t seem to let up, fucking yourself in circles and then up and down as his tongue, and tongue only drives you into a frenzy.

“Fuck Jimin. So good, so so good, baby.” The rambling commences at the same speed that he now moves his head side to side, making every use of his mouth without the aid of his hands to get you off. You didn’t think you’d cum from this, it was merely going to be a pass by, but when he bites down on your clit and then tongue fucks you whilst shaking his head, you nails scrape into his scalp and almost cum right then and there.

So, pulling yourself off just as you feel the knot almost snap and pull at his hair, you look down to see his tongue still darting out to taste your remnants of you that plaster his face and the smirk that he wears after.

“You almost made me cum, you bitch.” And it fuels the fire of his ego, smirk growing into a deep laugh. He’s bound, blindfolded and completely in your hands yet you’re the one who’s like putty. 

You almost say fuck the whole thing and abandon, but when you turn to see his dick is harder than before and leaking, it’s too good of an opportunity to miss.

Climbing off him, you round the bed, watching the smirk falter as he realises he no longer has the upper hand, no longer has a fucking idea where you are and what you’re doing. You grab the vibrator and lube as you go, quietly though, it’s all a bunch of surprises from here. 

“Y/N.” He’s calling out to you, but you reply with the first touch of your heel, hard and cold to his thigh. He shivers, not really understanding the sensation.

You’re sat, ass at the end of the bed, in nothing but your Loubs with legs spread as you begin to trail one, then the other heel up his thigh. He feels the smooth of you calf brush him and swears lowly as he realises what you’re doing - torturing him with his present.

You pull one leg in just before it reaches his crotch and pour the lube, bottle ready and waiting at your side onto the bottom face of the shoe. You realised hygiene was a bitch during sex, even despite the shoes being £800 fresh out of the box, so washed them earlier. You’ve always wanted to make a guy cum from a pair of Loubs - living the dream some would say.

The next time cold heel hits skin is directly on his dick, shaft spiking up when the wet of the lube sinks into him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He sounds angry. Horny and angry at the fact he is turned on by getting shoe fucked.

You press your left leg into his thigh, the heel digging hard into flesh so he hisses - call you petty but you didn’t like his tone - whilst the other tests the water on his shaft, running up and close to the tip, but not close enough. The proximity to pleasure causes him to buck up.

“You wanna cum?” 

“Not with your fucking shoe I don’t.”

The foot tending to his dick pushes harder, heel dangerously close to his balls and he knows it.

“Watch it, or I’ll make you cum with my foot instead.” Feet. He hates them.

“Bitch.” He whispers it and you almost see him settle back, lips releasing their tight hold as he tries to find the pleasure in the smooth and cold sensation of your shoe.

You press harder this time as you run it up and down his dick, his tip getting attention garnering a hiss from him. You find a rhythm, as does he with the way he begins to fuck up into the feeling, chasing the sensation of when it presses hard against his tip, he also begins low groans and the occasion ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“That’s it, baby. You think you can cum like this?”

“No,” another harsh press that this time finds his balls too. He doesn’t seem to mind though. “Fuck-ah, maybe, I don’t know. Just keep going, harder.”

His words, breathless and low cause a new wave of tension in your crotch, blood rushing everywhere and that pit needing release starts reeling in. Your hand finds its way to your exposed pussy, two fingers sliding straight in like light work - Jimin sure did a job on you with his mouth earlier. Fuck you miss his mouth, but seeing him splayed and fucking himself up into you is just as spank bank worthy.

“You look so hot.” 

Either he hears the way your words falter or he hears the rhythmic pumping of your fingers in your core.

“Are you fucking yourself right now?” He sounds both disbelieving and turned on beyond belief. His words are also accompanied by his pelvis stuttering, trying to find more pleasure.

“Mmm.”

“Let me see, fuck, please Y/N.”

You speed up your movement and much to your enjoyment find that spot deep within you - the way you’re spread certainly helps.

“Mmm,” is all he’s met with again and he throws his head back further into the pillow in frustration. It somehow spawns a new sense of vigour in him, the pent up anger and tension as he fucks into your foot harder, grunting as he does so, and you barely have to do the work anymore and the slick of the bottom of your shoe slides from base to tip, hard and fast. No way can he cum from this, surely.

“Fuck.” You both utter at the same time, yours high and breathless and his a growl.

You fuck you fingers at the same speed he lifts his hips and when your palm finds your clit it’s game over for you. You string moans and curses in a random order as you body jolts, your stomach contracts and the throb burns into a frenzy.

It’s the hottest thing in the world he thinks, hearing the moans you sputter when you bring yourself to your end.

“Shit, I think I might cum.” It’s a whine that turns you on all over again despite the thrum of your pussy and the way everything burns.

It’s as he begins to stutter you draw your foot away.

He draws his whine out for longer this time, his dick pulsing and his breathing tenfold.

And it’s with hell to foot fucking, there’s a rock hard cock to be used

“Cum inside me.” It’s a statement, not a question, spoken equally breathless as he is, the orgasm still tingling through you.

“Urgh, fuck yeh.” His head perks up at the thought and his mouth draws open in excitement. 

With his chest glistening more than before, his lips bruised from sunken teeth, you say ‘fuck you’ to the gods that you don’t have a camera at this moment, because like hell are you forgetting this. Your core throbs, maybe in the post-orgasm bliss but the sight is also doing wonders for making your blood pump and your skin burn.

You can’t prologue it anymore, the desire to be filled stronger than the want to hear another whine - only just.

Stradling his sides you experimentally run yourself up and down his dick, pressed against his stomach between your folds, mixing lube with arousal and heat with heat. It draws moans from the both of you.

“Baby, let me touch you, please. At least let me see.” You lean back and take the vibrator that has sat patiently at the back of the bed, bringing it instantly to his balls.

The hum of it and the sensation hit all at once before he realises what you’ve done, and his cheeks blow out - with his eyes behind the silk you imagine - as he jolts against the restraints.

You know it’s sensitive and if you hold it too long he’ll blow his load, so you ease it from his balls to in between where the two of you are connected.

“Y/N, please baby, too much, just let me fuck you. I need it,” he’s whining and your smirking into a moan as the vibration hits your clit. It must hit the right spot of him with the way he growls and the restraints pull taught against the headboard. “Please, fuckkk.”

It’s the way he says it that has you going, vibrator chucked aside but still fizzling away somewhere, and before he can say ‘pussy’ you’re on him, sinking and moaning.

“Oh shit that’s good.” He fills you so fucking well that the position gets him right into your stomach - one hand even goes to that spot where he touches your cervix and pushes as you start moving - his dick is everywhere and it feels so good.

The slow pace has him frantic against the silk that binds his hands away from you.

“Y/N let me feel you.” 

But he’s your personal fuck toy at this point as you sink two fingers into his mouth below you. Instantly, he bites around them with a grunt and the other hand fumbles for the vibrator, still on and now pressed into his balls again, shutting him the fuck up.

You’re faster now as the vibrations sink into you too, him reaching everywhere inside of you and with teeth, baring into fingers harshly but just right that it garners a moan.

“Fuck, so good Jimin, so good.” You repeat it like a mantra.

He moans into your fingers when the vibrations against his balls get turned up by you. 

And you feel him tighten slightly, so pent up, edged when he’s never been edged in his life and his chest heaving with the need to get normal airflow. You only push harder with the vibrator and your fingers in his throat, the control of it all compelling you to almost find your release.

“You gonna come baby?” Fuck, you’re gonna come all inside me yeah? Fill me up good?” You don’t if you’re talking for his or for you, hell you barely even knew you were talking. He’s moaning loud now in affirmation of the impending orgasm.

“Fuck please come for me Jimin.” His feet must have planted at some point because suddenly he’s pistoning into you to find his end, and it throws you forward. Your fingers dislodge from his mouth and find his throat, balancing yourself on his windpipe.

With a strained ‘fuckkk’ and a harsh press of vibrator to his emptying balls, he’s cumming hard into you. His neck muscles pulse in your grip as he keeps fucking into you with pace, and knowing he’s reached his end you bring the vibrator round to your clit, the instant, harsh contact making you cum and pulse around him, head thrumming and eyes rolled.

“Shit. Fuck. Baby, baby,” you keep cumming as you feel him fall limp, body jerking still even once you’ve turned the vibrations off. 

“Holy shit,” you continue to pant to yourself, releasing your grip from his throat that must have wound tight in your orgasm because the man is red-faced and bruising at the seems.

“You good?” 

He licks his lips, mouth dry, throat hoarse. “So good, just get this shit off me.”

Fuck, he’s still tied. You were planning on letting him watch, maybe touch at some point but you’d fucked him and both cum (you, twice) without him laying a finger. You half-laugh at the thought.

“Shit, sorry baby.” 

The ties on his wrist are off first, and they’ve left bruises in their wake that you almost feel bad for. His hands find the blindfold and it’s off in a second before he takes in your form - hair down and falling amongst the beads of sweat of your chest and neck, pussy still around his dick and black Loubitons still decorating your feet.

He’s an equal feast for the eyes, but it’s him who brings a hand to your face to tuck the wild hairs behind ringing ears. 

He pulls it back and covers his eyes as he begins to laugh.

“Your fucking shoes. I cannot believe.” You laugh with him, leaning into his chest as the night’s events catch up to you and him.

“It was kinky as fuck. You legit almost came as well.”

“Shut upp,” he groans in your ear as you press you naked chest into his.

“Never living it down, Park, this is one for the grandchildren.”

He lifts your chin with one hand and furrows eyebrows despite the look of amusement still evident on his features.

“Thank god I’ll make sure our kids aren’t near you when they have their own. No sex stories from the mad granny over here.”

You kiss him briefly because his lips still were glistening and fight a smile at the topic of the future - you lose the battle.

“Kids huh? We’re having kids?”

He shrugs against the hold you have on his cheek with the other running loosely in his dishevelled locks, “You mentioned the grandkids thing not me.”

“Well the way we’re going at it, grandchildren are on the agenda very fucking soon bubs.” You wince as you ease him out of you - he groans at the cold hitting him, nothing like a bit of cock warming, he thinks.

“You’re legit on birth control.”

He says it loudly as you begin to make yourself across to the bathroom because no one likes an inner thigh with dried cum to sleep in.

Still with your back to him, parading your hips as you go, you say, “99% effective, Park, 99%.”

For all he knew you could’ve said, ‘already pregnant, Park’. But, he stopped listening as soon as he got a sight of bare ass and high heels.

[hovid19]

The Cops (Spencer Reid)

So I have a playlist I listen to when I’m super in my feelings and it’s a bunch of songs about love and broken hearts and all of that sappy shit. One of my personal favorite songs to listen to when I’m in the mood I’m in is The Cops by K.Flay. I suggest you give it a listen, because while it is the inspiration for this fic, it’s also just an incredible song!

This fic is very angsty and there’s like a teeny-tiny mention of smut, but nothing bad! I hope you all enjoy, because I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Word count: 2,236 words

You tried the best you could to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your head rested on your pillow, hands tucked under your cheek as you stared at the man sleeping next to you. He snored softly, his lips parted slightly, allowing some drool to slip down his cheek. You’d give everything to see this man like this every night and every morning and every hour in between. He was so beautiful. His hair was splayed out on the pillow below him, a mess of knots and tangles from the day before. He was lying on his back, though he was facing you, giving you the perfect angle to stare. Sure, it was creepy, but nothing you hadn’t done before. How do you not stare at something so pretty? You reached out to gingerly move a piece of his hair from his face, feeling him twitch ever-so-slightly under your soft touch. You sighed as you pulled your hand away, finally letting the tears fall down your cheeks. It would be eons before you found Spencer back in your bed again like this. Tomorrow, everything would change. The dynamic between the two of you was never going to be the same again, no matter what you tried to do or say to stop the shift. But, for now at least, he was here.

It had been 182 days since he had gotten down on one knee. The ring was absolutely gorgeous, a classic princess cut with a three carat diamond in the center. It was flawlessly crafted and you assumed it cost Spencer a fortune. Actually, you knew it cost Spencer a fortune. He’d complained to you on multiple occasions about how much money he had been spending recently, though you never presumed it had been on an engagement ring. You knew things were getting serious, but you never suspected marriage– and so soon. It had only been a year and a half. For Spencer, it was bold and daring and unlike him in so many ways. He was calculated and careful– everything planned meticulously down to the shoe laces that threaded into his Oxfords. He was never the type to jump the gun like this, but nonetheless, you were as happy as you could be given the circumstances.

You didn’t know love at first sight had existed until four years ago, when you met the man lying in blissful comatose in front of you. You had been anxious when Spencer– Dr. Reid as you knew him then– started asking you questions about one of your coworkers. You became increasingly more anxious when aforementioned coworker held a gun to your head when you were exiting the Virginia Beach Police Department. Spencer was the one to hold you while you cried that night.

But tonight, you held yourself in your own arms as you sobbed into the satin pillowcase, the cold fabric soft against your cheek. Your brain was on autopilot, shoving memories of Spencer to the forefront of your mind as you tried your hardest to just forget about him– forget about his hand on your neck as he held you close in a kiss and forget about his lips on your ear as he whispered secrets you and you only would ever hear. You took that as proof. Proof that somewhere deep down in his heart of hearts he saw you in the same way you saw him. There was intimacy in you and Spencer’s relationship you couldn’t find anywhere with anyone else. But it wasn’t blatant. No, for the two of you it was holding hands under the table and stolen glances at a friends party and make out sessions in an empty bathroom. He was risking too much for him to not feel the same fire in his heart you had whenever his contact flashed across your phone screen.

Two years ago, at 9:32PM, Spencer collapsed onto your couch in a messy, blissed-out heap. “You’ll never believe this girl, Y/N,” he had started, hands tugging at his hair in disbelief. “She’s unreal. I didn’t know a girl as perfect as her could exist.”

The sting in your chest was almost debilitating, your knuckles white from their grip on the granite counter in front of you. You were scared that if you let go, you’d collapse into a pile of tears and swears and cries for Spencer to hold you like he had done so many times before. “What’s her name?” You choked the question out, knowing the answer would puncture your heart.

“Natalie,” he sighed, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. You knew his daydreams were running wild with thoughts of her, and you could only hope you could be someone he would talk about to his friends. But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t Natalie, and you would never be. It took a lot to be good enough for Spencer. That big brain of his held only so much space for romantic feelings, and unfortunately, you hadn’t ended up as an object of his affection.

“Well, good,” you replied, finding something to keep you busy enough to stall the burn in your chest. It ached with every syllable he spoke about her. You settled on a bottle of Jameson that was hidden away in your pantry. “I’m just glad you’re happy.”

Six months after that, at 4:19 in the afternoon, Spencer texted you to tell you he had made things official with her. This pain was something new. It creeped into your throat and through your fingers, the pain coursing through every fiber in your body. You were accepting death as an inevitable outcome of this situation. You had heard of dying of a broken heart, and rolled your eyes every time at its mention. But now, sitting against the kitchen island and sobbing into your hands, you wished for the grim reaper to come take you any second and end the torture that your heart was receiving.

Three months later, at 10:47PM, Spencer had you pressed against your mattress, his lips pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin of your neck and collarbones for the first time, but definitely not the last. He had worked his way up to your ear, your legs squeezing tighter around his hips as he whispered, “we’re perfect for each other. Don’t believe anything else.” This was two hours after he had dropped Natalie off at her apartment.

It was an odd situation to catch yourself in. You felt dirty and confused and cheated, even though you weren’t really the one being cheated on. But every time Spencer slipped past the front door and into your bed, you forgot her name, as did he. But every time Spencer’s phone rang on the bedside table, you remembered, and so did he. It was one big mind game, but it was one you didn’t mind playing.

It took a couple of weeks to realize the reality of the relationship you’d found yourself in. It pained you to say that you were his back-up plan, especially when he was your first choice, but you had to face that fact early on or else your heart would split in two further than it had. At least you could have him, even if it was only part of him.

It was a Tuesday when he came over, throwing down his things quickly before pinning you to the kitchen counter. His hands grasped either side of your face, his lips attacking yours in a heated kiss. He knew you would never and could never say no to him. He used it to his advantage. “I want you,” he breathed out, lips moving to nibble the skin of your earlobe. “I want you so bad. Right here.”

You knew he had never truly wanted you. He just wanted your hunger for him, your desperation for him. He wanted you, but not all of you– not completely. You would never be wanted by him in the way you sought. “Take me, then, Spencer.”

That was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen floor, breath ragged and heavy as he zipped up his pants and left. Your lip trembled, tears escaping your eyes. You were his to use, whether you wanted to be or not. He had a way of getting in your head and knowing what to say. It was probably the profiler in him. He knew that no matter what you said, at the end of the day, you would always be his. And no matter how he made you feel and how much he used you, you would let him slip under your sheets whenever he wanted.

You could see the sun peer over the horizon as you stood at your kitchen counter, lips around a half empty bottle of Jim Beam. It was full this morning, but you needed as much distraction as you could get today. You had tried to run away from it all this time, hoping that it would go away on its own and you wouldn’t have to face the harsh, harsh truth of it all. You desperately wished you and Spencer could continue to live in the fantasy you had lived in for the past year that he had been playing both sides. Even though you both knew the casual sex would inevitably continue after today, there was just something so different about sleeping with the Spencer who had a fiancé than the Spencer who had a wife.

He came into the kitchen, arms slipping around your waist as he kissed your bare shoulder. His lips sucked on the skin and you were sure he was leaving a mark. A reminder that you were still his even if you couldn’t really be. “It’s eight thirty.” His voice was raspy.

“And?” you questioned, brining the bottle up to your lips again. “You’re getting married today.” It was a fact, a reminder and a reason. He seemed to hold onto you a bit tighter than before, just for a moment.

Silence enveloped the two of you as you stood there, getting drunker by the second. “I don’t know if I want to.”

You laughed, capping the bottle in your hands and setting in on the counter. You leaned back onto Spencer, feeling the warmth of his body around your frame. If only every morning could be like this. “Then don’t.”

“We can’t keep doing this.” At this, you turned in his arms, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing him away. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Decide what you want,” you spoke, voice quiet as your eyes flooded. “Decide exactly what you want. You know me, Spence. You know I’m going to be here no matter what. It’s up to you to choose. But either way, just know you’re hurting someone.”

He licked his lips, leaning onto the counter behind him while he thought. You were scared. Petrified, actually. God, you loved this man with everything in you. He could do absolutely no wrong in your eyes and that’s what made him so dangerous. You waited for his answer, nearly holding your breath in anticipation.

“Well?” you questioned after a moment, words biting into the air. “What do you want, Spencer?”

He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “I want you.” The words were almost silent. “But I want her, too.”

You nodded, a tear falling down your cheek. With that, he turned and walked out of your front door. You slid down the cabinets, a sob escaping your lips. You told yourself when this started that no matter what you’d love him. Even if he didn’t choose you, even if he wrecked you, you’d never fault him for it.

By the time you had collected yourself off of the floor, Spencer was already getting dressed in the back room of the church. He stuck his hands in his pants pocket, fishing for the note you wrote him two and a half years ago, a mere months before he met Natalie. He unfolded it, reading the words as his eyes stung with fresh tears. You wrote it when he had gotten out of jail, a reminder for him to know that he always had someone on his side, even if no one else was.

Even if the cops come calling, I’ll never talk. I love you.

Maybe, he thought, he loved you too. Derek knocked on the door to the room, stepping in and looking at Spencer. He smiled sympathetically at his friend, eyes drifting to the note held in Spencer’s fingers.

“Ten minutes.”

Spencer nodded, reading the words scribbled on the paper one last time before folding it back into his pocket and wiping at his cheeks.

Maybe he loved you too. But he knew he also loved her just as much.

[elonscult]

The Awakening - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sabrina managed to put herself together before coming out of the bathroom, she and Elon were supposed to be leaving soon. He had left to say goodbye to some people and they were going to meet at the door in approximately 10 minutes.

She walked out towards the entrance of the house, catching a glimpse of Alec before opening the door. The tall blonde blue-eyed man approached her.

“You’re leaving?” he asked “I thought we were leaving together later”

“Yeah, I.. uhm, Elon’s taking me home” Sabrina said.

Alec’s eyes widened and a smirked formed on his face.

“I see” he said.

“Shut up” Sabrina said rolling her eyes and smiling at her old friend. “I’ll call you tomorrow”.

Outside, Elon was waiting patiently in his car, anxious to see her again. When Sabrina walked through the door he was already in front of it.

“Hey” she said getting in the car.

Elon smiled at her and then they looked at each other as if they had the world’s oldest most precious secret.

The ride to Sabrina’s place was silent. He could feel her breathing, feel the racing of her heart.

As they got out of his car, he walked ahead of her and took her hand. He drew back for a moment and stared down at her. Sabrina met his gaze steadily, In the moonlight her hazel eyes could have been black.

“Do you mind if we catch up tomorrow?” Sabrina asked before they could get inside.

Elon stopped and reached for her hand. He felt confused, wondering if she was doubting the feelings she had confessed earlier at the party, worried that Sabrina was regretting what happened.

She squeezed his hand lovingly reassuring him, almost like if she could read his mind.

Elon leaned in and kissed her forehead, then he gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

“I’ll come by tomorrow” he said.

Sabrina smiled and nodded. She knew she needed time to process what happened today. Chemistry was never their problem  but she knew there were other factors to the relationship, other people to consider, uncomfortable conversations they needed to have. But they were together now, and that gave her the comfort she needed to sleep peacefully through the night, knowing they could face any obstacle if they had each other.

Elon arrived early the next day, wearing his usual all black outfit and bringing some breakfast along, when he walked into Sabrina’s house, she was already awake and taking a shower.

Elon wandered through her house, a big Bel air Spanish house that she was very proud of buying on her own. He stopped to look at one of the pictures in the wall, it was an 8 year old Sabrina riding a bike, he smiled, imagining a child of the two of them together.

“Sorry I took so long” she said smiling, almost running down the stairs to finally throw herself into his arms. She gave him a kiss. “Missed you”

“Missed you too” he answered.

Sabrina was wearing jeans with a black tube top and some long gold earrings that Elon followed with his eyes as they moved, unconsciously leading his gaze to her neck. His thoughts were all over the place.

Sabrina smiled. They were now sitting at the table eating breakfast.

“Here” Elon said, offering her a piece of pancake with his fork.

Sabrina opened her mouth but instead of giving her food he took advantage of the circumstances and pulled her in for a kiss.

Dear god! A tongue like that should be immortalized with a monument or someone should find a way to preserve it for posterity. And those lips.. Sabrina didn’t want to stop and think about those lips and what they were capable of doing.

Elon placed his hand on her waist bringing her closer to his hips, in the exact spot where his jeans were feeling tight.

Sabrina felt how Elon was getting tense and his breathing was starting to get fast. They were getting carried away, and she feared that if they didn’t stop in that moment none of them was going to be able to stop later.

Even if she wasn’t happy about distancing herself from him, she softly pushed him away, freeing herself from his hands.

“Get it together” Sabrina said, teasing him and going back to her seat.

“It would be easier to behave if you weren’t so damn desirable” Elon said.

“Shut up” she said.

Fascinated by the harmony in his movements, Sabrina stared at Elon as he took a bite of some fruit.  The idea of locking him in her bedroom for a whole month was starting to feel tempting.

Elon’s phone ringing took her out of her thoughts. He looked irritated as he looked at the caller ID.

“I have to take this” Elon said standing up and walking into the other room.

Sabrina also stood up and cleaned up the empty plates while she waited for him to come back.

“You’re ready to go?” he finally said.

“Sure”

Something was wrong. Sabrina could tell just by looking at him. He was driving but his mind seemed to be somewhere else away from his body.

She had tried several times to make him talk but he was just quiet. Sabrina thought about the call he received earlier, maybe it was that.

He parked in a public parking lot near the beach. Sabrina was unsure of where she was but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Wow, it’s really hot out here” she said as she got out of the car, feeling the dense hot air in her face.

She looked at Elon who looked really dashing with his black aviator shades on, a thin layer of sweat covered his skin.

“Is it too hot for you?” Sabrina asked him.

“I’m not gonna die if that’s what you’re asking” he answered almost like if he was too tired to speak.

“A little irritated, aren’t we?

“Sorry” Elon apologized grabbing her hand and then walking towards the exit of the parking lot. “I’m taking it out on you, it’s just work stuff”

“It’s okay” Sabrina said, her big eyes trying to find some kind of expression on Elon’s face. “If you have to go I understand”

“Don’t worry” he kissed her hand and continued walking. “So, we’re going to the aquarium, thought you might enjoy that”

Elon remained in silence as they bought the tickets and got into the building, he didn’t say a word until they were standing below the subaquatic tunnels that allowed them to see the different species in their natural habitat.

“Amazing” he babbled when a huge shark swam just over their heads. He had a childish expression and the light that shined in his eyes warmed Sabrina’s heart.

Suddenly, Sabrina’s phone started ringing. She took it out to see it was a call from her office.

“Hey, Ms. Vanderbilt” It was Mary, her assistant “I’m here at the office and someone broke in last night” she said.

“What?Why? Who would do that”

Sabrina caught Elon’s curious gaze. She offered him a smile and kept listening to Mary.

“No idea, the police is already here looking for clues and fingerprints. For what I’ve seen they didn’t take anything important, did you have anything valuable here?” Mary said.

“Just my computer” said Sabrina.

“Its still here, anything else?”

“No, I never leave anything important” Sabrina answered.

“Wait, the police officer wants to talk to you”

Sabrina waited until she heard the masculine voice.

“Ms. Vanderbilt?”

“That’s me”

“I’m officer Jones. It looks like they took your agenda and some files. Do you have any idea of who would be interested in that?” he said.

“Not really, do you need me to go over there?” Sabrina asked.

“No, no. We’re looking for prints but if you think of someone please let us know” Then, he gave the phone back to Mary.

“Do you want me to go?”Sabrina asked again.

“No, there’s nothing you can do. Really, it’s kind of boring” she said.

“Right, call me if anything happens”

Sabrina placed her phone in her back pocket again.

“Everything okay?” Elon asked.

“Someone broke into my office last night”

He frowned.

“What for?”

“No idea” Sabrina paused for a moment making Elon’s frown intensify while she thought about the possible cause. “I can’t imagine why someone would want my agenda or any of the files I have there. It’s really weird”

“Do we have to leave?”

She shook her head.

“It’s not needed”

Sabrina let Elon guide her through the different aquariums while he read to her the descriptions that explained details about the different animals.

God! How much she liked to hear the sound of his voice while he read. There was something so relaxing in Elon’s voice. He took one of his arms around her shoulder while they walked and she rested her head on him for a moment.

The sweet gesture caught him off guard and managed to debilitate him. Elon realized he spent hours wanting to feel the sweet touch of her body, he thought about how much better it would feel if they were naked right now.

When Sabrina smiled at him his heart began to race uncontrollably. She had something that made him feel things he never felt before. But deep inside he knew what it was, she saw the real him, beyond his appearance or wealth. She saw his soul. Could a woman so wonderful and compassionate like her care about some guy like him?

Sabrina stopped to read another inscription. Elon hugged her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder, observing the animals swimming. The smell of his skin invaded Sabrina’s senses and she wished they were back at her place, where she could take his clothes off.

She wasn’t able to remember when was the last time that she desired someone as much as she desired Elon. In fact, she didn’t think it was possible that it had occurred before. She wished to feel him on top of her again, filling her completely.

Sabrina was terrified, he had a place in her heart that would destroy her if he ever left again.

Back at Elon’s place they spent the day in peaceful solitude and when the night came they sat in front of the couch over some pillows. Sabrina rested her head in Elon’s shoulder as he talked to her about some project he was working on. She was doing everything she could to hold herself and not turn around and explore every inch of his body with her mouth.

But Elon was still in a dark mood, ever since that call he received earlier.

“Tell me what’s bothering you” Sabrina said, sitting down correctly on the couch.

He looked away for a moment, contemplating if he really should tell her.

“It was Camille on the phone earlier” he sighed.

“Okay” Sabrina said urging him to continue.

“Nothing relevant, something about a signature for the divorce” He said.

“Is this about money? How much is she getting this time”

“No, she’s not getting anything. She cheated on me” Elon said darkly.

Elon’s answer took Sabrina by surprise, suddenly making her feel sad.

“I’m sorry” she finally said. “You didn’t deserve that”

Elon’s gaze finally met hers.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’s in the past now”

But she knew better, he was hurt. And as much as she would’ve liked to pretend that his whole relationship with his ex wife didn’t happen she knew he loved her at some point in time.

Sabrina carefully sat on his lap facing him, with her legs on each side of him. For once, he kept his hands still on her waist and only touched her with his lips, placing them on her own. It didn’t matter, Sabrina’s head began to spin anyway.

How could his ex wife had chosen another man? How could anyone reject him? He was heaven on earth.

Elon deepened the kiss, exploring Sabrina’s mouth with his tongue. Sabrina felt the beating of his heart while he got closer and closer and his muscles surrounded her.

She had never been so conscious about the presence of other human being. He took her to the limit, made her feel sensations that didn’t know existed.

Elon pulled away to look at Sabrina, making her skin crawl.

“I have urging desires to be inside of you, Sabrina” he mumbled “I want to feel your legs around me, your body beneath me, hear you moan while I make love to you slowly. I want your scent to be forever impregnated in my body.”

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

Sorry for taking so long to post this! And for ending it like that hahah I promise next chapter will be more interesting,  will try to upload on thursday:) Thanks for reading!

[wizardnuke]

you’re making me cry with these arc reactor posts 😭😭 did you get any good fic recommendations? if so, could you link them?

hi!! this is SO late but I made a list of my favorites!! they're all wildly different in terms of genres and ships and stuff. they're mostly hurt/comfort but that's all I've got. these are in no particular order

One of Those Days by kerravon

The arc reactor, despite being a technical marvel, is quite invasive. There have to be side effects to its presence in Tony's chest beyond the now-resolved Palladium poisoning. The team are about to find out just how debilitating it can be. This would be easier if Tony didn't feel the compulsion to hide the fact that he's sick. Misunderstandings all around, especially given Stark's reputation.

Division of the Heart by TylerM

Tony Stark is sick.

Surely that's not going to be a problem? When he doesn't tell the team a normal cold is a little more complicated with the Arc Reactor, things get a little out of hand.

There's A Hole Where My Heart Used to Be (I Want it Gone) by nightwalker

Tony has issues and an arc reactor and he never thought he'd get rid of either.

They Don't Know Where We Come From by ladyflowdi

“Shrapnel,” Tony says, and alarms go off around his ears and he can’t breathe and the pain is going to eat him up from the head down. “In my heart. I made it. Not the shrapnel. ...Well. The shrapnel too.

Till Human Voices Wake Us, and We Drown by Blossomsinthemist

Tony still has nightmares, and it drives him crazy, because he should be done with this, it should be over, but it's not, and he can't control how they make him feel. Luckily, Steve understands a little bit about how that goes. Established relationship.

and possibly i like the thrill by queerlyobscure

Despite knowing that the arc reactor is a marvel of technology and a life-saving piece of equipment, Tony hates it sometimes. He hates that it makes him visible, and vulnerable, and a danger to his team, and he maybe even hates that Steve has to see it all the time. Steve loves it for all the reasons Tony doesn't, and he's determined to show him how much it doesn't matter to him.

It Only Hurts (When I Breathe) series by Ocean_Born_Mary

Tony could see the mass of scar tissue built up around the reactor, could see the little pieces of shrapnel in his lungs, and he wondered, even now, how he was able to Not-Breathe so well with his heart and his ribs and his lungs all squished out of place.

Arc Tremors by MountainRose

Tony's light had flickered out in the aftermath of the fight with the Chitauri, but his team was there and, hey, he'd just been to space, give a guy some slack. The next morning they accepted, but when he collapses weeks later, they're not going to let him brush it off again, and neither is JARVIS.

Kludged Together by Veldeia

When he cut his morning jog short to join Tony Stark on a reconnaissance mission off the East Coast, Steve sure wasn’t expecting to end up stuck on a life raft in the middle of the ocean, his hand knuckle-deep in Stark's chest.

Pink Is the Color of ...? By Annehiggins

The new element Tony created for his arc reactor core responds to his moods. Once the other Avengers move into the Tower they quickly figure out what all the colors mean. Except one – pink.

Deep Waters by AlchemyAlice

His power's running low, the arc reactor flickering. Cold, rancid sewer water is rushing into the fissure at his torn up shoulder, filling up the gaps, rising along his neck in frigid fingers. He's been like this before.

Proof that Tony Stark Has a Heart (and is Also an Idiot) by TunaFishChris

Tony Stark is the most egotistical, self-centered, arrogant, narcissistic, immature Avenger on the team. Right?

The Song Without Words by Lelantus

Everyone knew what happened when soulmates touched each other. Whether it was hands clasping together, fingers brushing across a jaw, or lips meeting in a kiss - it didn’t matter. Any skin-to-skin contact and chests started glowing with soft, white-blue light. Soul-light, it was called.

Tony woke up in a cave in Afghanistan with a hole in his chest and wires coming out of it and felt his blood run cold. He knew instinctively what it meant. He’d lost his ability to produce a soul-light. And so no matter how much he yearned for it in the secret, hidden corners of his heart, Tony would never find his soulmate.

The Arc Ain't All That by MountainRose

Tony doesn't know why they make such a fuss.

Night Light by WeebDa

"I don't understand, what do you want from me? I've fed you, I've changed you, I've rocked you, I've turned you on your belly, heck I've even sang for you but you're still crying. Come on, talk to me, munchkin," Tony begged rocking Peter and walking around the penthouse of the Avengers tower.

The Hiccups Are No Laughing Matter by orphan account

Excerpt: See, when you have something like the arc reactor lodged in your chest and your diaphragm suddenly tries to push your lungs into space that doesn’t exist, hiccups abruptly jump out of the 'annoyingly amusing' category and right into the 'really fucking painful' one.

(aka - That time Tony gets the hiccups and freaks everyone out)

In the Company of Friends by DarkestSight

Tony wakes up feeling like crap and finds himself longing for the time he lived alone and it was a lot easier to get a simple cup of coffee.

and you're out by Zekkass

A villain kidnaps Tony and removes his arc reactor and Steve's the one to rescue him. Tony proceeds to try and deal with this. Steve tries not to think about the gaping hole he saw in Tony's chest.

remember to leave comments and kudos!!

[talabib]

How to Break Free From The 9 to 5 Grind And Find A More Meaningful Life.

What did you do last week? Was each day about getting up, going to work and coming home exhausted?

Is your house filled with gadgets and toys meant to distract you from the dreadfulness of those 50-, 60- or 70-hour work weeks?

In case you haven’t realized this for yourself, there’s little happiness to be found in devoting your life to a job that only provides you with a paycheck. And to make matters worse, the meaningless things we buy to make the job easier to cope with only serve to clutter up our lives and cause more anxieties and distractions.

As these post points out, it’s time to reprogram our minds and bodies away from the corporate culture of fast-food, disposable goods and instant gratification. With some simple techniques and a bit of effort, you can reclaim your life, declutter it of all that’s hollow and useless, and refill it with meaning and purpose.

Money and stressful jobs are not keys to happiness.

Many people grow up with the expectation that getting “a good job” is everything. From this perspective, true “success” is based on how good the job is – which is largely dependent upon the size of the paycheck. But the truth is: money doesn't buy happiness.

Even rich people will tell you that more money comes with more problems, including being so stressed that you resort to comfort eating, waste money on meaningless gadgets and constantly think about the future while never enjoying the present.

Success often comes at another great cost: very few hours to spend with loved ones. Hired help raises many children from families of success-oriented adults, just so their parents can spend more time earning money.

So, more often than not, the thing that money really buys is unhappiness. Ask yourself this: Is any stressful job worth having?

Ryan Nicodemus asked this question while working at what many would consider to be a great job. He was even on the rise, getting promoted to a managerial position, but the role came with 80-hour work weeks and huge amounts of responsibility and pressure. What it added up to was debilitating anxiety, stress and depression.

Nowadays, Nicodemus believes there is no amount of money to justify the toll a stressful job has on your mental health. However, when you’re wrapped up in the job-is-everything mentality, it feels like you always need to make more and more money.

Both Nicodemus and his friend, Joshua Fields Millburn, thought they would be happy once they hit $50,000 a year. But after reaching that milestone, the goal quickly crept up to $75,000, then $100,000 and so on. At no point did they feel satisfied.

Part of the reason for wanting more was that, as their paycheck grew, so did their financial commitments and responsibilities – in the form of loans, cars and mortgages. Eventually, enough was enough and they both quit their jobs and decided to live on less money.

It was at this point that Millburn and Nicodemus finally experienced happiness. All thanks to their decision to adopt a minimalist lifestyle of working and consuming less.

But as we’ll see, the minimalist ethos is about more than money and work; it’s about letting go of everything that holds you back.

To begin your shift to minimalism, pay off your debts and declutter your surroundings.

If you were to ask yourself “What are the anchors that are dragging me down?” the answer might not be readily apparent. But there’s a good chance that you have some form of debt, be it a mortgage, credit cards or student loans, that weighs heavily on your well-being.

That’s why the first and most crucial step to minimalist living is to pay off all your debts.

At some point, you may have been fooled by credit-card ads or a banker telling you to take advantage of a certain mortgage, but let’s be clear: there’s no such thing as “good debt.” All debt is bad, plain and simple.

As Joshua Milburn was preparing for a minimalist existence, he followed a strict budget and spent two years saving as much as he could to pay off his debts. This meant a hundred weeks of no vacations, no restaurants and no luxuries of any kind. But it was worth every minute for the relief he felt in finally paying off his debts. He was now free to live the life he wanted.

While you’re decluttering your finances, you should also turn your attention to reducing your material clutter.

First of all, it’s important to recognize that your possessions aren’t a meaningful statement about who you are as a person. Instead, you should ask yourself whether your belongings truly help you live in the present or if they prevent you from doing so.

For decades, Joshua Milburn’s mother had four sealed boxes in her home that she never opened. They contained every scrap of work John had brought home from elementary school, from handwriting tests to drawings.

Millburn understood that she was hoarding these things in an effort to hold on to her little boy, but the cherished and meaningful things in life aren’t objects, they’re our memories and relationships. This doesn’t mean you need to throw away everything, but Milburn’s mom could keep one meaningful drawing in a frame rather than four sealed-up boxes.

By decluttering, we not only give ourselves more physical breathing room, but we also provide more mental breathing room. Having objects everywhere vying for our attention can easily weigh us down mentally.

Minimalism is also about reducing the amount of junk you put into your body.

There’s no shortage of diets or fitness programs out there. In fact, the sheer amount can seem overwhelming. But you can avoid trendy diets and temporary fixes by reprogramming the way you think about your body.

From now on, think of it as a machine: when you give it high-quality fuel, you’ll allow it to perform at its maximum potential. With this frame of mind, it should seem obvious that junk food, like processed and prepackaged goods, should be avoided.

This kind of food is full of additives and preservatives that add zero nutritional value to your diet. All they provide are empty calories, especially sugar, which are terrible for your health. Sure, these foods may taste good in the moment, but they can often make you feel awful afterward. So any temporary pleasure is far outweighed by the long-term damage they can cause to both your physical health and your mood.

A good decluttering regimen should also include dairy and bread. We’ve been eating wheat and pasteurized milk for a relatively short period in human history – only since the invention of agriculture. Our bodies were never designed to digest the vast quantities of dairy and bread contained in the average modern diet.

So, whether you have a gluten or lactose intolerance or not, you can benefit from cutting back on these foods and replacing them with natural whole foods like vegetables, fish and beans. Once you’ve made this adjustment to your diet, you’ll soon find yourself with a surplus of energy. And this is a good thing to have for the next step: getting the most out of your body.

Fitness is something that works best when you have a constant growth mind-set, which means you’re always aiming for more than last time – whether it’s a faster running time, more repetitions or heavier weights.

To adopt this mind-set, you need to demand more from yourself. To help make this happen, you can reprogram your thinking away from “I should...” to “I MUST...”

Don’t tell yourself “I should go out jogging three times this week;” instead say “I MUST go for a run tomorrow at 8 a.m.” With some persistence, you can even make yourself accomplish new things.

Maybe you can’t do a single pull-up now, but you can probably hang from the bar for 30 seconds. So, do that and then tomorrow, hang for 40 seconds, and then continue doing more until you build up enough arm strength to do a pull-up.

Change and improvement don’t have to impact your authenticity; they can lead to better relationships.

Friends and loved ones are important. If you’re currently feeling isolated or unhappy with your relationships, it may be time for another round of reprogramming, this time to become more accepting of others as well as appearing more acceptable to others. The first step to making this happen is to have a willingness to change.

It’s hopeless to try and change other people – in fact, it’s cruel to even attempt to do so – but it is possible to improve yourself.

However, you may be resistant to the idea of change if you think that there’s nothing wrong with being your “authentic self.” But it’s important to take an honest look at your behavior and recognize when you’re doing something that upsets people or is a turnoff.

If you’re unhappy about being shy, a poor listener or overweight, don’t think “that’s who I am.” Instead, do something about it and be proactive in your self-improvement.

Changing yourself isn’t betraying your authenticity; it’s simply a way to attract better relationships. Would you rather be lonely or would you rather work on yourself so that you’re a better conversationalist and a more appealing person?

Another avenue toward self-improvement is to be more accepting of those with different opinions than your own.

Don’t think that you’re meant to find someone who thinks and shares the same opinions as you – this is just another fallacy. Relationships aren’t about hobbies and tastes; they’re about love, so you should accept that people are going to think differently than you.

If more people were open-minded about whom they hang out with, there would be far fewer lonely people in the world!

So, don’t just tolerate and accept your loved ones' peculiar habits; respect and appreciate them!

Let’s say your loved one has a hobby you find annoying, like collecting action figures. After all, isn’t a silly collection the opposite of minimalist living? Actually no, especially if they get a lot of meaning and pleasure out of that collection. So don’t deter them; understand that the collection enriches your partner’s life and therefore should be cherished as part of what makes them the person you love.

With this in mind, here are the four steps to help you better tolerate, accept, respect and appreciate the person you’re with:

Tolerate their unique hobby or passion;

Accept that it will always be there;

Respect the effort your partner puts into their pastime;

Appreciate the hobby as a part of your life because it is an important part of your loved one’s life.

Don't let work define you as a person.

Just as we saw the importance of breaking away from the idea that money and work are the most important things in life, so too should we avoid thinking that our jobs define us.

Think of it this way: You’re a complicated person with a variety of interests and talents, some of which make money, some of which cost money. So you’re far more than just your job. Nevertheless, it's easy to fall into the trap of letting your job title define you.

Many people will find a job in a certain industry and feel they should stick with that industry for the rest of their lives as if it's a part of who they are. But remember, a job is just a job. In fact, your job might even be an anchor that weighs you down.

Consider this: your job isn’t even one of the top five most important aspects of life. Those are: your health, your relationships, your passions, your personal growth, and your contribution to society.

These are the aspects of your life that make sense to measure yourself against, not your job title or how much money you make.

This is why you should avoid the annoying small-talk question of “So, what do you do?” This is often asked early on in a conversation as if it were the most important characteristic of someone’s life and not just a different way of asking, “So, how much money do you make?” Instead, why not ask them, “What are you into?” or “What are you passionate about?”

And if someone asks you, “What do you do?” you can redirect the conversation by saying something like “Oh, I do a lot of things, but my current passion is gardening. How about you?”

For more freedom, reduce your dependency on money.

One of the primary purposes behind minimalism is to spend less of your life working at a job. Naturally, this means finding ways to become less dependent on a big paycheck.

There are a number of ways to help with this, including learning how to make things yourself rather than buying them, and selling off the needless clutter in your home. But the next reprogramming you should learn is how to live on a small income.

The first step here is to create a monthly budget and stick to it. So start by making a list of needs, which includes all your fundamental household costs, such as food, pet food, gas, electricity, insurance and transportation. These are basic needs that have to be met, so there’s no getting around them.

Next, start a second list of wants, which might include categories like new clothes and entertainment. Now, at the start of each month, separate your extra money so that both of these categories are given a budget. And to make sure you don’t break the budget, you can separate them into different spending accounts.

Remember, every dollar in the budget should be accounted for. So, if you dip into the entertainment budget to buy new shoes, you’ll have to wait until next month to go out to that restaurant.

To reduce hard feelings and make things fair, get the entire household to agree on the budget. Since everyone has a say, there should be a feeling of mutual responsibility for making it work. For example, by making the kids part of the process, they’ll know not to bother trying to get extra money for video games when that money is being set aside for school supplies. But it’s still wise to set up a safety net.

Once you get yourself set up, you’ll find that it isn’t hard to live comfortably with less money, but that doesn’t mean life won’t surprise you with something unexpected, like an illness or the car breaking down.

This is why it’s smart and sensible to establish a safety net of at least $500 to $1,000 at first. You should not only do this as soon as possible, but you should also put the money in a place where it isn’t easy to spend.

Once you're out of debt, you can add to this safety net. And with your new found powers of budgeting, you’ll find that this fund can grow quite quickly.

Make life more rewarding and purposeful by taking on difficult work that contributes to society.

So you’ve cut all your anchors and are finally free from your dependencies. The only question now is: What are you going to do with your newfound freedom?

Sure, you have your new plans to get healthy, fit and friendly, but you won’t get far without a strong purpose in your life. And true purpose only comes from a meaningful life that allows you to actively contribute to society.

You might think that donating money to a charity means doing enough for society, but you can only have it be meaningful and purposeful if you’re directly involved.

What you’re sure to find is that the most rewarding activities are the ones that are the most challenging.

Some activities are easy, like reading in the park or swimming in the pool, and while easy activities are fun, they aren’t very purposeful.

Challenging activities, on the other hand, might make us feel uncomfortable while we’re in the middle of them, but afterward, they make us feel fantastic. This can include child rearing or running a marathon – there are a lot of difficulties involved, but the rewards make these efforts feel worthwhile, and they become the most significant experiences in our lives.

That’s why these are the kind of events we should seek and build our lives with, especially when we don’t just contribute to our lives but to society as a whole.

Fortunately, there is no shortage of charities looking for volunteers for this kind of meaningful work, whether it’s building affordable homes for the poor or turning vacant lots into community gardens. This is tough work, but it’ll be extremely rewarding when you’re looking back on it.

You can still make these tasks fun, too. If you’re building homes for the needy, there’s a good chance some days will be rainy or cold, and morale might take a dip, but you could rally together to sing songs. Or you could have an emergency supply of hot chocolate with marshmallows.

But unlike a cushy office job, where you may not even understand how your work contributes anything of value, this difficult work comes with a strong sense of purpose that will make your days a lot easier to get through – no matter how bad the conditions might get.

You are not your job, and you don’t need as much money as you think. You can restart your life by dispensing with all the “stuff’ you don’t need and the relationships that are dragging you down. Living simply will help you open up to and relish a more meaningful life.

[puppywritings]

the kindness of a stranger

pairing: kim doyoung x male reader word count: 2,971 description: doyoung is little more than a stranger, though you can’t help but feel drawn to him. masterlist

Your commute to and from work had never been the source of anything interesting. You would meander to the bus stop around the corner from your apartment building, take a fifteen-minute bus ride, then repeat this on the way home in the evening. It was mundane, uneventful, and generally unremarkable. Which was perhaps the reason why, on a dreary Monday evening when you were exhausted after a long day and yearning for your bed, something unfamiliar struck you as so surprising. When you hopped onto the crowded bus, headed towards the bed you so longed for, you caught sight of a man you had never seen before.

You didn’t aspire to be overly dramatic, but that man’s face had undoubtedly been sculpted by the gods to serve no purpose other than making him the most beautiful man to ever walk the face of the earth. You didn’t consider that description to be too dramatic, considering that he genuinely might have been the most attractive person you had ever seen. 

And the man, it just so happened, was sitting next to the only empty seat on the whole bus. You gave consideration to the idea of standing the whole way home, but you were sure your aching back would have something to say about that. Reaching deep into yourself for any last morsel of bravery, you approached the man.

You found yourself cursing the lack of effort you put into getting ready that morning - washing your face and combing your hair was decidedly not enough preparation for encountering somebody like that. Moreover, you were sure the day had taken a toll on you, and you smoothed your hair self-consciously as you descended into the seat, taking care not to sit too close to him. You were well aware of the fact that you would combust if your leg happened to graze his.

Mere moments after the bus pulled away from your stop, your hubris got the better of you, and you chanced a glimpse of the man. Much to your alarm, the following events ensued: just as you initially picked up on, the man was beautiful; your heart was sent into a frenzy by the man’s beauty; you made eye contact with the man; the man smiled at you; you attempted a smile back, but you were sure it came across as more of a pained grimace; you looked away, vowing not to look back for the remainder of the journey.

Hurriedly, you pulled your phone and earphones from the pocket of your coat, untangling them from the twisted mess they had grown into. Though the bus was due to arrive in only three minutes, you wanted to eliminate any possibility of executing small talk with this guy. You would surely make a fool out of yourself if you spoke even a single word to him, and you didn’t need such an extreme embarrassment to sully what had been already a pretty dreary day.

The duration of the bus ride seemed dreadfully long. Mentally, you had been chastising both your mind and your heart for reacting this way to a stranger. You had never fallen prey to a pretty face like this before - though it was true that you had never seen a face this pretty before. By the time the bus reached your stop, you felt even more exhausted than you had done when you left work. After you disembarked, you stopped in the bus shelter to unplug your headphones and return them to your pocket. 

When you looked up, however, you were met with yet another surprise that jolted you again. The man had got off at the same stop as you, and was now walking a few paces ahead. You were somewhat astonished, and unsure of how you had failed to notice him getting off the bus behind you. Although you supposed you had been too focused on trying not to fall on your face in front of him. 

It was as though a higher power was intervening with your day and gifting you with the most commotion it could conjure. Ahead of you, you noted in utter bewilderment, cute bus guy turned a key and entered an apartment building. Your apartment building. The one where you lived. You shook your head, resigned to distant perplexity at this point.

As you had ended up walking a little distance behind him, you took relief in the knowledge that he would have already ascended to his floor in the elevator. However, when you stood in front of the tall metal doors, you found them open just a gap. And through that gap, you viewed, for another time, the man. The man from the bus, that was. You saw him hurry to jab the open doors button for you, allowing you to step in the lift beside him. You mumbled a quick “thank you” to him as you entered. 

You felt tense in the few moments it took for the elevator to reach Doyoung’s floor, as an irrational fear that he could hear your racing heartbeat wracked you. As you climbed higher, you willed the metal box to stop to allow him to leave, but each floor passed fruitlessly until you reached the one just below your own, providing you with perhaps the most awkward elevator experience you had ever suffered through. 

When he stepped out, he bid you goodbye with a smile and a wave that was excruciatingly adorable. You smiled back at him, and felt you did a better job than earlier.

Once he was gone and you were safely alone, you rested your head against the cool, silver wall, and let out a groan. You were going to get far too carried away with this crush that had blossomed far too soon - you knew that much already.

***

Since that first day you had seen him, cute bus guy - as you had so aptly dubbed him - became a fixture your daily routine, and one that you quite looked forward to. Though you never held a full conversation with him, the two of you developed an unspoken ritual. Each evening, you would step onto the bus to find him guarding the seat next to him with his bag, or his coat, only to remove the item for you to sit down. 

This went on for a number of weeks, well into winter when a biting chill made itself at home in the air. Were you a bolder, fearless individual, you would’ve asked him for his number some time ago, and perhaps even invited him out for drinks with you. You simply didn’t have the confidence for that, however, and the fear of rejection from such an ethereal person was almost debilitating. Plus, the thrill of sitting next to him each day, sharing smiles, and riding in the elevator together was exhilarating enough in itself. He became a beacon of light in your day, and seeing him waiting for you each evening filled you with a strange sense of relief.

This was especially true on a particular Friday evening when you had been dreaming of returning home from the moment you stepped into work. From the second you woke up that morning you had been sure you had gotten sick. And with every moment that passed, your certainty had grown more and more solid. To your great upset and exhaustion, you hadn’t been able to leave; you had no remaining sick days, and your boss wasn’t in the greatest of moods so you hadn’t wanted to approach them anyways.

As you stood at the bus stop, awaiting its arrival, you were rather surprised that you had made it to the end of the day at all. And, as seemed typical for your life lately, it had begun to rain. That exact bus stop didn’t have a shelter, and so the sky’s downpour was delivered directly to you. You, who didn’t have a hooded coat or an umbrella. When the bus turned the corner and drove towards you, you could have cried or even thanked the heavens.

When you took your seat next to cute bus guy, your smile was a bashful and reluctant one; you were sure you looked far from your best. You probably looked closer to a drenched rat than a person, and your nose was bright red from blowing it all day long. Sitting next to the man, however, you were filled with a peculiar and overwhelming feeling of peace. You felt more peace and security than you had all day, even if your seat was a little lumpy and the bus lurched and jerked over each pothole in the road. You supposed it was just the familiarity of the man. After all, even if the two of you hadn’t spoken properly, you did sit with him every day, five days a week. You settled, feeling much steadier now, despite the pounding ache that battered your skull.

***

The next thing you felt was the panicked sensation of being woken up before you even realised you had fallen asleep. “Huh?” you mumbled as you made sense of your surroundings. “Did I miss my stop?”

In the seconds it took you to register cute bus guy shaking you awake gently, along with the fact that you had just raised your head from its resting place on his shoulder, you felt the heat in your cheeks intensify. They had already been glowing, you were sure - you had been feeling as though you were running a fever for hours.

“No, our stop is in a few minutes,” the man answered your question, his voice gentle. “I thought I’d give you some time to wake up.”

“Oh my goodness, I-I’m so sorry,” you stammered out an apology, glaring at your shoes to avoid looking at him.

He simply chuckled in response, which surprised you; he didn’t seem annoyed or angry at all. “You’re really cute when you’re sleeping so I don’t mind too much.”

If it were possible for your cheeks to burn any brighter, you were sure they would. “Oh,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

“I hope that wasn’t a creepy thing to say,” he went on, “It’s just you were doing these adorable tiny snores, it was really sweet.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered, picking at a thread on your sleeve, a display of your anxiety.

“Don’t be,” he assured you, his tone light and friendly. It was only when he reached over to press the alert button that you realised you had reached your stop. When you alighted together, he erected an umbrella that covered both of you.

“Walk with me,” he asked of you, “I don’t want you to get any wetter.” From another person, this could’ve been a mocking statement. But from him, it came across as real concern.

“Thank you,” you say earnestly, before you let out a sudden, explosive sneeze.

“I really hope you haven’t caught a cold in this rain,” Doyoung spoke, eyeing you with slight alarm.

“It wasn’t the rain,” you told him with a sniffle. “I’ve been sick all day.”

“Oh no.” You were surprised to hear genuine worry in his voice, and you looked up at him to see him frowning at you. “Do you have someone to take care of you?”

You shook your head. “I live alone.” It occurred to you that you maybe shouldn’t tell this to somebody who was mostly a stranger, especially not when he knew where you lived. This thought seemed ridiculous, though. Despite the fact that you didn’t really know him, you knew this man was kind and honest; you could just tell.

“I know we’ve never really spoken, but...” He paused, as if thinking over his words before he said them. “I can come over and keep you company, if you want?”

As he keyed you both into the building, you gave consideration to his offer. You really didn’t want to be alone when you were feeling so sick - you already felt shitty enough, without loneliness kicking in. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone fetch you water and medicine when you needed it.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you checked apprehensively.

“Of course not,” he confirmed. “I have no plans, anyways.”

“You’re a saint,” you told him as you stepped into the elevator together. “Can you come over in about an hour? I want to take a shower first.”

“Sure. My name is Doyoung, by the way.” It only hit you then that you hadn’t even known his name. You had invited him to your apartment, not only to keep you company but to take care of you while you were sick, and you hadn’t even known his name.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself. “And it’s apartment 413, by the way.”

“See you soon, Y/N,” he bid you goodbye warmly as he stepped out of the elevator.  The absurdity of the situation wasn’t lost on you, not even with your sick and cloudy mind.

***

The long shower you had taken had done a little to soothe your aching muscles, and the warm water had made your sinuses feel a little clearer. But, you were feeling extraordinarily weak, and you had been forced to exit when you began to feel faint. When Doyoung arrived at your apartment, you were seated on your couch. You had just finished eating a bowl of heated tinned soup, and you were wearing your cleanest cosy sweater and your least shabby pair of sweatpants - you felt a little silly, picking out your most pristine loungewear. You knew any efforts to impress Doyoung were futile, with your bright red nose and swollen eyes.

When you opened your door, you were a little taken aback. You had never seen him wear anything other than his thick jacket, but to see him in casual wear was something else. He had dressed in a pair of jeans, along with a plain white tee under a grey plaid shirt. It wasn’t anything special, but he made it work exceptionally well.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, sounding much more cheerful than you felt.

“Hey, Doyoung.” You stepped aside to let him in. “I really appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismissed your concerns. “But I hope you don’t keep a habit of inviting strange men into your apartment - not that I’m dangerous or anything,” he stopped, letting out a nervous chuckle. “But others... Could be.” He paused again. “I’m not building such a convincing case for myself, am I?”

You simply smiled and told him not to worry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh along with him, purely because of how awful you were feeling.

“Anyways, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? Pretty shit,” you spoke flatly.

He frowned sympathetically. “Have you taken any painkillers?”

 When you shook your head no, he sighed.

“That’s silly of you. Sit down,” he instructed you, and you complied without a second thought, a little taken aback by his assertive yet caring nature. “Where are they?”

“The cupboard above the oven and to the left,” you directed him, pointing towards your kitchen. “They should be on the top shelf.”

“You’ll be wanting cold meds, right?” he spoke as he re-entered the lounge, equipped with a glass of water and a box of tablets. You nodded weakly, taking what he handed to you.

“Have you eaten?” he asked as he sat down next to you, to which you nodded in response. “Alright, good. Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” You simply nodded again, lacking the energy to speak. “You should pick,” he decided. “You’re the one who’s sick.”

You took the remote from his hands, working the buttons until Beauty and the Beast was playing, a comfort film of yours.

“Good choice,” Doyoung commented.

You laid your head back lazily, curling your legs up beneath you and waiting for the meds to kick in. You passively obeyed when Doyoung took a blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over you. Though you didn’t speak, you were immensely thankful for the warmth it brought you.

“I really hope you don’t get sick,” you murmured slowly, around thirty minutes into the movie.

“I have a really good immune system. I never get sick,” Doyoung promised you.

Though there was silence between you two, it was strangely comfortable when considering you hadn’t really spoken to the guy until that day. You could only hope the comfort extended to him, but you thought he looked pretty relaxed. As the medication began to kick in, your limbs felt heavier, and your mind got loose and distant.

“It was really nice of you to keep me company like this,” you spoke quietly, your words a little slurred from the effort.

“It’s nothing. I wouldn’t want you to be alone like this,” Doyoung dismissed your words.

You spoke again, your tongue running away from your foggy brain.“Y’know, before I knew your name I called you ‘cute bus guy.’ Just in my head.”

“Oh yeah? That’s cute.” Doyoung was smiling widely at you.

Distantly, in the recesses of your mind that were still somewhat active, you were aware that you might have been saying things you shouldn’t. Unfortunately, your mind wasn’t quite strong enough to stop yourself, or to even care. “Yeah. I think I might even have a crush on you.”

“That’s sweet, Y/N, but I think it’s just the cold meds talking,” Doyoung assured you, his voice lilted with a laugh.

“No, really,” you insisted earnestly.

“Let’s just discuss that another time, yeah?” Doyoung proposed.

“Okay,” you said, your voice not much more than a sleepy mumble. You let yourself drift into a heavy, dreamless sleep. Any embarrassment would have to be postponed until you woke up.

[the-necessary-unnecessary]

Translation of the interview with Mapi Leon (Part 2: minutes 18:50 to 29:15)

- You, a person who is very sincere, I’m going to ask you and see if I manage to get you to be completely sincere here. Does this get boring? When one team is dominating so much, when your game play is so direct and effective- in this case in terms of goals- does that get boring, does that get overwhelming? Do you think about the outcome of the league being just about decided? When you ever come out for a match do you consider it a given that you’ll win? People don’t know what even to say about Barça… So, is this a nice feeling, does it get boring, does it get overwhelming?

No no, well not for me at least. I don’t really like to listen to all the praise because sometimes praise can also be weakening. Well it depends because sometimes it’s also nice to motivate and lift your mood but in a lot of situations its debilitating, so it needs to be a bit balanced. It’s very nice that maybe you’ll speak with someone… well at the end of the day you talk to friends that play in other teams and they tell you ‘damn, you guys have great players, you’re doing so well.’ But yeah, it’s a positive reinforcement to see how the rest view you and that helps to tell you that yes this is working, and we are doing things well but right now we can’t stop. I mean, now that we’ve found the right track then we can’t get off it for anything in the world. If we want to really grow as athletes then we have to continue at this high level. The other day a friend, a friend from another team, was saying to me yeah you guys are boring.

- Ha! See that’s why I’m asking you! 

Yeah like obviously for me not but from other people’s perspectives then it’s not as great. She was saying, it’s a good thing, for you guys its very good but I see you play and you guys bore me because there’s nothing we can do against you. Obviously it depends on the game, it depends on whether we’re in a good moment. It’s clear that we have to work very hard for each game and… I don’t know, I think we have matured and I think that that’s meaning that we are working harder and more together. 

- You’re an ex-Atleti player, now at Barça. Let’s see, another one to put your sincerity to the test: is it particularly gratifying to beat Tacón? To beat Tacón and in the manner that how you beat them, with a 9-1 win in the first round and 0-6 in the second. Is it more gratifying as they’re going to become Real Madrid, its maybe even ‘El Classico’ of women’s football? 

Uhhh. I mean, no. No, it’s the same as it is with other teams… 

- Even though before you played against Tacón a lot of people were saying Real Madrid this and that, when they invest money in the team after all these years that they’ve kind of been on the sidelines of women’s football. Isn’t it especially satisfying to win 9-1 in the first match, 6-0 in the second? 

Lets see, I mean it’s not exactly like that… I mean it’s a bonus yes. At the end of the day Real Madrid is going to invest a lot and that’s great. It adds competitiveness and that’s good for all the players. If they invest more money that will mean that other teams will also have to invest more if they want to stay on the same level. That’s good, in the end it’s all a process. They can pour in bucket loads of money and bring in great players but they’ll need to play as a team because in the end that’s maybe what’s been happing for these last couple of years at Barça: the level of our squad was probably better than any other team but when talking about the level of our play and our togetherness then Atletico de Madrid was always superior. So for that reason football is such a beautiful game, and the reason why it’s not always the team with the best squad that end up winning the league but the one that works best as a team. 

- Atletico de Madrid this weekend, Atletico de Madrid in the Super Copa, Atletico de Madrid in the Champions League… What is this? [they both laugh] 

I don’t know, I really don’t know. 

- When the Super Copa fixtures came out what did you guys thing? What did you say? 

Yeah we’re going to get bored…  Well it’s pretty hard to play each other so many times as it’s a lot more complicated to maintain the same standards, to maintain a winning streak or… 

- Yeah, the surprise factor right? 

Of course, or they catch you in a moment where you’re on a bad streak. But it’s hard, and you may have won one match but then end up losing the next and things can change quite radically. So yes, that it’s going to be interesting. 

- How are you seeing your ex-team? This year it’s weird right because on top of the fact that you guys are doing really well with this amazing streak of no defeats, it looks like Atleti is being weighed down a bit from all the expectations they’ve built up over the last years. From these little snags they’ve been having, the structure of the club has been lost from all the changes in coaches- the last one of which has been made official this week and is the third one of the season. Do you see Atleti, you who has played there so know how the club works, how do you see right now the team who is going to be Barça’s rival a lot in this coming month as you’ll be facing them in all competitions. 

Well, let’s see, the thing is that Vera did things very well. Vera arrived and he’s worked really well with them. It might not look like it but it’s hard, at a professional level, to have a team at such a high performance what with leading the team, training sessions… You have to know how to spur the team on, to connect with the players, and Vera did that really well. When he left well it’s hard- he’d hit the nail on the head with the team and it’s hard to find that again. Now, I don’t know the atmosphere that they’re in coming up to this match but well, it’s what people say as well, in the moment when you’re more wounded you summon on your strength and say ‘or I believe in this or I’ll sink’. We shall see, like honestly how they will play is a mystery right now as although they’ve been having a bad streak, with the change in coach and everything then you never know how they’re going to play now. Everything is more of a surprise at the moment. 

- With the league almost in the bag- although as a player you’re not going to like hearing this- but 

No I’m not 

- But with the league almost in the bag- I’m going to say it. 

Well you’re saying it but… 

- With the Super Copa in this new final four format being played in Salamanca I think its going to be pretty cool, and the Champions which is Barça’s unfinished business, if you had to pick just one competition to win right now. Like obviously as a player you want to win them all, but which one for you would have that added special value? 

Well that question is horrible. Obviously its.. nah.. that can’t be asked 

- Go on then, pose the question again to yourself and answer it lets see [okay this sounds very forceful when translated but with the tone and everything its mostly just quite jokey] 

I mean obviously what we’ve been striving for in these past few years, and what’s putting up a fight against us achieving it, and however much we work it still alludes us is obviously the league. And I’ve always said when they’ve asked me that I’d be really excited to win a league with Barça, which since I’ve been here has always just escaped our grasp. At the end of the day it’s the reward for all the effort put in during the entire season, week after week. It’s like, ‘look you’ve done well throughout this entire year’ not just ‘you’ve done well in a couple of matches’. That being said, winning a Champions League title, in terms of level of competition must be amazing. But that’s something that’s very hard to do. Even though last year we got to the final that’s something that’s very hard to do, just because we got there last year doesn’t mean we’re going to get there this year too. It might not look like it but its something very hard. 

- And the Super Copa does that excite you guys, the players, or not really? With this final four format, being there for five days in Salamanca and everything…. 

I’m going to acknowledge something to you and that’s that I don’t fancy it very much. 

- [laughs] well from Barcelona its quite a trip. 

Yeah like its connection transport-wise to Barcelona is a bit complicated. But no, at the end of the day a competition is a competition and we’re going to go there for the same thing we always go for. That’s to say, everything that we can win, everything that’s a match, a trophy or whatever- we’re competitive we’ll want to win it. 

- Well Mapi, we’ve gone through a little bit of everything. Let’s see what happens this Saturday, let’s see what happens in the Super Copa, let’s see what happens also in the Copa de la Reina, the Champions- everything. We shall keep following all of your steps, an enormous kiss from everyone who forms a part of ‘Área Chica’. Thank you for being here with us today and all the luck in the world for what’s left of the season. 

Well thank you very much!

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent / personal / tmi / menstruation / endometriosis / long post ... Im so fucking sick of healthcare professionals telling me to just wait it out and pushing my problems onto other doctors I just got my 5th shot of lupron and have 1 more next month. On my appointment last week i told the gyn how ive been having much more cramping and tissue but not blood coming out regularly and he said its possible the combined lupron and norethindrone are making my uterine lining too thin, and to stop the norethindrone (it was being prescribed to help any menopause-like side effects the lupron can have) And less than 24 hours after my first missed dose i get a full blown period complete with extreme mood swings and depression Im not bleeding this week but im still cramping and the mood swings are so fucking bad, being chronically ill and not getting enough relief from any of my medications is making all of this worse but im literally breaking down over any little thing The lupron and norethindrone combined i guess have been suppressing all my emotions bc this is what it was like on the daily before i started it (just not as bad) which is telling me that none of my psych meds are working but whatever I just now got off the phone with my psych and he said he doesnt want to do anything with my meds or dosing bc he says its related to hormones and thats what my gyn needs to address and i Need To Wait im fucking sick of waiting i cant do this ive been waiting since last august!!!!!!! I now have to wait 2 more whole months of mood swings until i can have another appointment with him hes refused to actually screen me for adhd too and says its bc im An Artist type that im not able to sit down and draw anything since last fall like i fucking hate him and he never gets my name or pronouns right and i cant go see a new psych bc of all the closures and i dont wanna call my gyn bc he said if things get worse i need to have a pelvic ultrasound done again and i cant do it!!! I fucking cant do it it hurts too much im too traumatized from depoprovera and mirena that i cant even touch myself without extreme dysphoria and fear that im going to cramp Its killing me that as someone who was so personally sexual to completely be traumatized from the road to an endometriosis diagnosis that i can no longer masturbate or even talk about sex without anxiety and being trans on top of it hurts even more Next gyn appt is my last injection of lupron and im really gonna push to plan for a partial hysterectomy (i only had endo cysts on the back of my uterus but it was 100% confirmed with surgery and biopsy) so i hope it will help so i can stop taking all these fucking hormonal medications like Before being diagnosed i was really planning on going on testosterone but now im too scared because i feel like it would really fuck up my health problems more - mentally and physically Ive given up on passing and am trying to focus on body acceptance especially now that ove had rapid weight gain that isnt being addressed by any of ky doctors i bring it up to God im just trying to vent here but seriously Do not take the diagnosis of endometriosis lightly its super serious to go forth with any treatments and you really have to commit to long term treatments and its a gamble either way For me not starting any treatments was unacceptable i needed help with extreme monthly periods and all forms of birth control ive tried exacerbated symptoms and never stopped bleeding - i literally cannot personally recommend any form of medical birth control bc every one has fucked me over, many different pills at different points in my life, shot (depoprovera gave me debilitating cramps and i bled non stop all 3 months which started this whole journey to diagnosis), iud (iud was the worst i had to go to the er bc the gyn refused to give me pain meds and i was screaming in pain a few hours later unBle to move or think - i really cannot stress enough how painful and long insertion is like it was the longest 5-10 minutes of my life crying while it felt like a knife going through me) I really dont want that ultrasound tho ffs i had to get the first one done while i was in full force cramps during my depoprovera shot and the pelvic ultrasound rod is humongous and they dig it around inside you (i already had a painful and hard time trying to have pleasurable penetration even by myself or with partners) and it takes like 40 minutes of jumbling around your insides for them to document every thing like at least at that time i was only like 2 months from my last time jerking off but now its been almost 6 months of me not even thinking about putting more than one finger in to clean myself in the shower like to go right into an huge ultrasound is going to be so painful and anxiety inducing and i cant do it id rather go straight into surgery My biggest phobias have to do with pain around this part of my anatomy i cannot stress enough how long ive wanted a hysterectomy just so i dont have to fear accidentally getting p r e g... like i would literally kms... i would probably be able to handle the pain of cutting off my arm with a rusty knife better than extreme cramping pain like i had with the iud or ultrasound its such a phobia and now its source of trauma for me from everything ive gone through the last 6 months Having to readjust my life goals from doing p o r n as a hobby and wanting to transition and be who i am, to becoming a vegetable and trying to cope with the fact that i cant ever transition how i hoped Everything just really sucks for me right now and i have literally no social life any more, not even online bc im so stressed about my health and my attention is so bad i cant focus on a convo online, my laptop is about at its grave so all i have is a phone and xbox with bare minimum internet speed.. i live in the middle of nowhere and cant get my license bc the person who was guiding me to drive is an essential worker in a hospital so i cant go in their car any more... im just so fucking alone i cant do anything except break my back gardening and then cry about it later bc my fucking meds dont fucking work!!!!!!!!! Oh thats another thing im also dealing with fucking gerd on top of all this and i cant get the proceedure i need done to confirm if i need surgery or not bc the fucking lockdown!!!! So im stuck taking pantoprazole (been trying similar meds since march 2019 and its currently june 2020!!!!!!) I just want to eat tomatoes and chocolate again it fucking kills me if i dont take pantoprazole i will lose my voice and have such a sore throat and ears from the stomach acid and i know im gonna have to stop it for 2 weeks for one of the tests i need done and its going to be literal hell like it feels worse than strep throat ill probably do the thing where i start choking and coughing at night bc it gets so bad Im a fucking mess like why couldnt all of this happen one at a time I really want to get my belly pierced again bc i feel so naked without it but i cant bc i probably will be having 2 surgeries once covid blows over (if it ever does) Sorry for taking up so much dash space im just really hurting and need some outlet bc therapy isnt helping rn

[lallemcnt]

go ahead and watch my heart burn (part four)

“When you look at him you see dark night opening, giving way to dawn.”

— Ibn Said al-Maghribi

-

“Talk to me.”

“You shouldn’t have to reassure me all the fucking time! I’m so sick of my brain and how messed up I am!”

“You’re not messed up, Lucas.”

Lucas is perched on the arm of Eliott’s sofa, head bowed and arms shielding his body. Eliott sits on the edge of the sofa at its other end, the exasperated expression on his face mirroring Lucas’ voice. The distance between them, a sofa separating them, feels like miles upon miles, an impossible space to close. Lucas understands his frustration, he even feels sorry for him, sorry that he has to deal with Lucas when he gets like this: frustrated and insecure, when Eliott hasn’t done anything to incite these feelings, when he has been nothing but understanding, nothing but absolutely caring, nothing but a flame in the dark on the days when Lucas’ anxiety has been particularly debilitating.

He knew this was going to happen, that he would mess it up, he just didn’t know he would only have a month of being with Eliott before it all blew up in his face. Abruptly, the frustration drains from him and he is tired. He moves towards the door, stuffing his feet in his trainers and pulling on his jacket. Eliott gets to his feet, following Lucas to the door, asking in a beseeching voice, “You can’t just leave, we need to talk.”

Lucas doesn’t turn around to address him, simply opens the front door and lets out a quiet: “Let me go” before shutting the door behind him and trudging down the stairs into a chilly late summer day. His shoulders instantly hunch up and he’s blowing hot air into his hands for warmth, not sure where he’s going exactly. Going, he scoffs to himself, more like running, like the coward you are. But the knowledge of his cowardice is not enough to make him go back to Eliott and explain.

Lucas recalls a conversation they had a few days after he told Eliott about his father. When Eliott asked Lucas about his anxiety and how it affected him. He didn’t push Lucas to speak about it or set up some kind of intervention. They had been watching reruns of shitty TV at Eliott’s, as usual, eating popcorn and drinking some kind of nasty-ass beer Lucas has brought over when Eliott had asked him:

“I- Can I ask you questions about your anxiety? I’ve been reading up on it and I know I’ll need to do more, but would you…would you mind that? Because I know it is different for everyone.” His voice was tentative, his hands clenched around his beer bottle as if he was scared he had crossed an unspoken line, entering into unknown territory.

It was completely out of the blue. Lucas wondered if this had been on Eliott’s mind the entire evening, he, himself, felt slightly uncomfortable and nervous, because talking about it never ended well, it only ever crushed his mood, his soul, leaving him disappointed. However, he knew, in his heart, that if this thing between them had any chance of survival Eliott had the prerogative to know, to decide for himself if Lucas was worth all the work, and to make this decision he needed all the facts.

Turning down the volume on the TV, Lucas had shifted to face Eliott, because he could be strong. Hadn’t all his years of quiet survival proven that? He could look Eliott in the eye when he inevitably concluded that it was all too much. That Lucas was not worth it.

“You need to understand that you can’t fix me, okay? I’m always going to be dealing with this and I want you to know that I won’t blame you or hate you if you decide to leave, okay? It is a lot. I know,” Pausing for breath, Lucas had taken a swig of his drink before continuing. “Sometimes I’ll get irritable for no reason, at myself and at you. I’ll be snippy. I won’t want to talk to you. When we’ve planned to go to a party or out for dinner, when the day comes round the thought of going may make me feel physically sick and I won’t want to go because I’m terrified of meeting new people or being left alone at a party with nothing to do or no one to talk to. Sometimes I’ll put off doing things and stay home for days because the idea is a lot more peaceful, comfortable and safe than going out.

“And you have to know, it won’t be your fault. I just need space sometimes. There’s something else, too. It’s hard to explain why…there are times when I think it’s because of my father, but I can be touch averse too, casual touches will annoy me and turn my mood sour. I used to be this really affectionate kid, and I still crave touch, but I also hate it at times.”

Eliott nodded thoughtfully along as Lucas spoke; being given the opportunity to explain how he feels and be heard was everything. Everything and more. More than he ever imagined he would be lucky enough to experience.

He doesn’t even know how this afternoon’s argument got heated so quickly, but when he reaches that level of frustration he can’t be talked down, no placating words can calm him, and Eliott contradicting him, telling him he wasn’t messed up made him more angry, and Lucas also knew that while his head was telling him to yell and slam the door and tell Eliott that he will never understand, that he doesn’t get it, that this will never work between them, his heart was whispering for him to get out of there, to cool off, before he said something he would regret.

He knew why Eliott was frustrated, Lucas had been closed off for the past week, refusing to confide in Eliott who had asked him several times what was going on. He was clueless, unsure if he was the problem. Lucas could have easily reassured him that it wasn’t him, but he was feeling mean and bitter. Communication. The age-old issue that tore couples apart on the daily. He knew Eliott would be struggling to understand if the issue was anxiety-related or if Lucas was just being an asshole, which he was want to be every now and then, but that only made Lucas more irate.

Walking along the Seine, Lucas kicks out at a rock and then another, physically exercising his annoyance. The thing was, deep down is wasn’t just anger he felt, it was fear and shock and insurmountable shame, and even the thought of explaining this to Eliott- it is enough to make him sink down on a bench in fatigue, because hasn’t he told enough secrets for once? Hasn’t even opened himself up to pain over and over again these last few weeks? So, seeing what Lucas saw in conjunction with someone else being worried about you and constantly asking if you are okay when you most definitely are not is too much. To be worrying about someone else’s feelings when you are consumed by your own mounting despair is enough emotional grievance to knock you out for a lifetime.

Today at 13:15

Le gang

yann: my dudes who’s up for a night of gaming at mine? bazzz: HELL YES I’M IN arthur: idk i’ve got this huge essay to get done by tomorrow arthur: and i haven’t started yet bazzz: yikes arthur: lucas!!!!!! have u done it yet?? bazzz: come on we haven’t hung out in ages bazzz: are you’ll really choosing work over spending time with ME?! yann: i have bEER arthur: bold of you to assume i’d bunk of uni work for beer bazzz: we’ve got arthur! yann: lulu! where u at? arthur: lulu! bazzz: lulu!

Lucas clicks off the chat, puts it on silent and pulls up Manon’s.

Today at 13:27

Manon

lucas: hey u around? Manon: hey!! Manon: yeah i am Manon: what are you thinking? lucas: ummm wanna go for a walk? Manon: i’d love to

After deciding where to meet, Lucas begins to stroll across one of the many bridges that cross the river. In an attempt to clear his mind of Eliott and their argument, he marvels at the beauty of his city, at all the history that these old and ornate buildings must contain; the grey water washing by them, dividing banks and creating islands. He walks by children already wrapped up in coats and hats but licking away at vanilla ice-creams. There are two men in suits locked in a heated exchange, jaws tight and eyes narrowed. A couple up ahead leans against the side of the bridge, entangled in each other’s arms, blonde hair whipping against their faces: Lucas looks away quickly at the surge in his chest. And just beyond them, he spots a red pea-coat: Manon. Dressed in woolly tights, her brown hair tied in a loose braid, she clutches a paperback book in one hand, her elbows rest on the off-white arm of the bridge, discoloured by the grim of urban life.

When they meet, Lucas falls into her outstretched arms as though this place, here, is a refuge amidst a storming sea. He doesn’t cry, but he remains there for a while. If Lucas had to describe Manon he would wax poetic about her. She’s closer to a sister to him than a friend, but then who ever said a person couldn’t be both to you?

Drawing away from each other, they smile and return to look over the bridge where Manon rests her  book. Lucas observes the cover and the authors name as recognition hits and he’s turning back to Manon, incredulously, as he exclaims, “No way! What the hell? Is that the last book?”

Manon is grinning and holding it up to Lucas’ face. “Yep! Had to pre-order it and everything. Just went to pick it up from the shop, actually.”

“I can’t believe it. We waited, what, five years for it and now it’s actually here? Fuck.”

When they were twelve, there was this fantasy book series everyone was reading about magicians and vampires, empires falling and rising, quests for lost artefacts and stolen celestial swords. Suffice it to say, Lucas and Manon were obsessed; they would queue up outside the bookstore for midnight releases with Manon’s older brother and parents, they would have reading parties together on weekends, but it was also one of those series where the last book kept getting pushed back until it’s release seemed a fallacy, but after seven years, the final book was out.

Lucas grabbed the book proffered to him and scanned the cover and back, flipping the book open like a fan. The smell of newly printed pages ready to be devoured and loved was an inexplicable bliss. He placed it in reach of Manon whose back was against the bridge’s sides and face directed towards Lucas, her blue gaze is searching. He pretends to be interested in the boats disappearing beneath him, but he’s forgotten Manon can out-wait him, she has the patience of a saint. What’s more is she has always thought of Lucas as a younger brother despite their birthdays only between two weeks apart — one week, six days, two hours and 19 minutes exactly if you ask Lucas — making her infinitely more willing to spend minutes, hours in silence until he is ready to open up or can’t stand the silence so he fills it meaningless words which eventually unwinds into the deeper stuff, because Manon makes the time to be there for everyone she holds dear. Lucas is one of those lucky people, he knows that.

In this way, while the wind insists on dispelling summer in favour of autumn, as Manon waits out Lucas and the sky grows grey in alliance with the wind and the Seine leads its placid journey, winding around the city, Lucas voices what has got him all twisted up inside for the past week, the catalyst for this argument with Eliott.

“I think I saw my father last week. At uni.”

This shocks Manon. Although he isn’t directly looking at here, out of the corner of his eye he sees her blanch at his words, she turns around, standing beside him as though in solidarity, as if she would be able to protect him from what has already happened. His heart clenches at this.

“How are you feeling?” She asks.

Bringing his hand up to chew his thumb nail, Lucas shrugs, which is ridiculous because he knows how he feels, he’s been sinking in this tumult of negativity for seven fucking days.

“You know what I wanted to do? I wanted to go up to him. I wanted to look him dead in the eyes and see if he would even recognise me, to ask him how he could do what he did and claim it was love? How you can do that to someone you’re supposed to love unconditionally? What did I do exactly to make him hate me so much? What did I do? I want to know so I never do it again, so I don’t provoke that kind of behaviour-”

“Listen to me, Lucas. No,” Manon is shaking her head and holding Lucas own between her hands so he is forced to look at her while she speaks. “You did not provoke anything, you hear me? I can’t explain to you why he did what he did to you, why he hurt you. But I do know one thing for certain, and I know you’re tired of hearing me say it but I will say it forever if I have to, this is all on him, nothing you did was wrong. It was all him. All him.”

Biting down on his lip, blinks back tears. “I don’t even know why he was there, and I didn’t want it to become this big thing but Eliott caught on to my mood, I mean, how could he not? And I didn’t feel like talking about it, not after telling him about my father, my anxiety. It would’ve just been overboard for him, you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Lucas, he’s there, right? Wanting to be with you. In relationships there are times where you don’t want to say how you feel and you don’t want to express the messy shit, but Lucas, if this is going on for an extended period of time you have got to let him in. It’s unfair otherwise. You’re part of a team now.”

Lucas sighs.

“Unless he’s been an asshole and said something-”

“No! He hasn’t-”

“-because then I’ll be having words with him.”

That brings a smile to Lucas’ lips. Hearing Manon threaten someone — even thinking it sounds ridiculous in his head — is always a shock because she’s Manon, always flocking to make sure everyone is okay, wearing their coats when it’s cold, ensuring everyone has a ride home after a night out.

“No, he’s great. I’m the asshole, but what’s new, right?”

Throwing an arm around Lucas’ shoulder, easily done because they’re the same height, Manon frowns. “Just talk to him, my love. For him, for your relationship, but, most importantly, for yourself. Now, say this together with me ‘I am not an asshole’.”

Lucas rolls his eyes but Manon is serious. She begins to open her mouth and when Lucas makes no effort to join her she stops and glares, full force, at him until he obliges with another sigh.

“I am not an asshole.”

“And again.”

“I. Am. Not. An. Asshole.”

“Whoop! That is so true, Lucas. You aren’t. Alright, let’s hobble along somewhere, it’s kinda chilly out here. I think my toes are about to stop working.”

“Okay, okay.”

Linking arms, the two friends find a coffee shop to sit at, a feat on days such as this when everyone is seeking the warmth of the inside, clutching warm mugs of hot chocolate between their hands they speak of lighter things, less serious but just as important.

-

By the time eight o’clock rolls around, Lucas is feeling hopelessly guilty about leaving Eliott’s place that afternoon. Manon’s words play on his mind: You have got to let him in. It’s unfair otherwise. You’re part of a team now. But because he’s the king of avoidance, Lucas has agreed to go to Yann’s for a gaming night and he’s rationalised to himself that that is okay, because he hasn’t seen the boys in a while and he misses them and Eliott is probably off hanging out with Idriss and Sofiane, so he’s okay and they can speak tomorrow. It can all be sorted out tomorrow.

On his way over to Yann’s, he begins typing an apologetic text to Eliott, it screams pathetic and cheap, everything he should say in person. Cursing in frustration, Lucas deletes it all, at least he tries to and he does erase most of it but his thumb slips onto the send button in his frustration.

Today 20:04

eliott

lucas: i’m

FUCK.

He shoves his phone into the front pocket of his grey hoodie, and of course this happened, he really can’t catch a break can he?

He gets no response. Radio silence. Hopefully hanging with le gang will be distraction enough.

For the first hour Lucas is caught up in the fervor of his friends’ excitement about a new season of a TV show about a family gang in Birmingham, England on netflix. They settle on Yann’s sofa, pulling up beanbags and lazy-boys to rest their feet on; despite their apparent enthusiasm they talk through the entirety of the first episode, making poor imitations of the Birmingham accent, Baz laments about how attractive the leading male is and Lucas can’t do anything but agree.

As the night goes by, however, Lucas becomes restless, he plays one game with Yann and then a team game with Arthur and Basile. He drinks flat coca-cola and chooses the music they listen to, but there, in the background of everything is Eliott’s face when Lucas left. When he is choosing the next song to play he thinks back to the many nights when they would talk on the phone before bed and Eliott would play Lucas the piano music he had grown to love, sometimes falling asleep to it, lulled by tender notes and impossibly smooth melodies. He should be there. With Eliott.

So he leaves, apologising profusely, promising to meet them at lunch on Monday, his mouth agreeing to anything while his one-track mind retains its steady focus on one boy. He is running in the dark, the sky jet-black where weeks ago the sunset was only beginning be set. Impossibly, a few stars peak through the light-pollution endemic to most cities and the moon is there, coaxing him on his way, as if to say hurry hurry you’re almost there. Out of breath and surely sweating Lucas does not stop. He doesn’t text Eliott; he will wait outside his place until he comes home, he will wait forever if that is what it takes.

Lucas is anxious now. He presses the buzzer for Eliott’s door, hoping against hope that he will be forgiven for walking out.

“Hello?”

“It’s me. Lucas.”

Silence.

Lucas is there on the steps, panting from his run, his heart galloping in his chest for more than one reason he can count. It feels like an eternity before he hears the tell-tale sound of the front door buzzing and he’s pushing it open, climbing up the stairs to Eliott’s door. It is down the end of the corridor, the last one on his floor, and Eliott is there, in the doorway, watching Lucas as he walks towards him and it is agony: he can feel the guilt’s full force curling in his stomach. Lucas is suddenly self-conscious, he wants the floor to swallow him up. His steps are hesitant. He stops a few feet away from Eliott. Wanting to hug him.

“Can I come in?” His words are stilted, coated in uncertainty.

“Why are you here?” Eliott looks tired.

“I want to talk.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t budge a single inch.

Looks like Lucas is going to have to do this here. In the hallway. Where any number of people can just walk by. At least Eliott hasn’t shut the door in his face.

“I’m sorry. For shutting you out, refusing to talk to you. For being mean,” At this, Eliott’s composure starts to falter, Lucas understands then that his annoyed posture was all an act, possibly an attempt to guard himself from hurt, and that nicks at his heart a little. “For walking out earlier, I should have stayed. I’m just really sick of feeling vulnerable all the time, I feel like I can’t catch a break and then I take it out on you by being cold.

“I saw my father last week, unintentionally, he was at uni and it’s the first time since he left that I’ve laid eyes on him. It brought back all the shame and humiliation. I wanted to walk up to him, like I’ve imagined doing multiple times over the years and confronting him, but all I could do was run the other way. I hate that this man still has this power over me. Anyway, that’s not the point, the point is that I hurt you-”

Eliott is stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Lucas, pulling him into his apartment and holding him against the door.

“Please don’t be mad.” Lucas’ voice comes out muffled against Eliott’s chest.

“I’m not mad. The truth is I’d rather be annoyed by you than not have you at all. I want to know when you’re in pain and why. And you were, I could see it and it hurt to know you were fighting something on your own. I am so sorry, Lucas.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Remember what I told you, yeah? You are not alone.”

Lucas’ heart clenches at those words. How does Eliott think of and say things like that, so sincere like it is effortless, like it costs him nothing but the air he breathes to say them.

He pulls back from Eliott, head tilted up against the door. “You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Eliott cups Lucas’ face

“Saying those romantic things.”

“And you need to know that you have nothing,” He says fiercely. “To be ashamed about. You are not what happened to you. You are magnificent, and I can’t believe how lucky I am that you choose to be with me.”

“I love you.” The words slip out, Lucas widens his eyes and Eliott is laughing at Lucas’ brazenness. Simultaneously, his eyes shift and brighten, as if Lucas’ confession has changed the very colour of Eliott’s eyes, as if those three words have changed him.

A kiss, soft and tender. ”Not as much as I love you.”

Another kiss just as tender and slow, torturously slow. “Yeah, yeah. Now carry me to your bed, please.”

They stumble there, stripping off their clothes as much as they can while kissing and touching each other. As soon as Lucas hits Eliott’s bed though he is enraptured by the softness of his duvet and pillow and he sighs contentedly.

Eliott looks up from where he was kissing down Lucas’ chest and lets out a disbelievingly laugh when he sees Lucas snuggling into his pillows. He crawls up Lucas’ body until he is caging him in and looking directly down at him. Eliott, straddling Lucas’ hips now, plants a hard, searing kiss on his lips which Lucas is all too happy to reciprocate, clutching Eliott at the hips.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you.” Lucas winks.

Eliott rolls over, laying his head on Lucas’ chest. “You’re tired.”

“Yeah…Your bed…Morning sex, instead?”

“Sure.”

From his position on Lucas’ chest, Eliott caresses Lucas’ lower stomach, running his fingers lightly over the skin, raising goose bumps in their wake.

Je t’aime.

Moi aussi.