#now when i read cards i think i'm always just taking mental notes and comparing them to things we've seen before

[vynegar]

alright marius card you’re more than an hour long, don’t disappoint me

[spookybias]

first time again ‣ [ yang jeongin ] ✧

pairing: yang jeongin x gn! reader

genre: comfort, angst, slice of life

synopsis: an attempt to return a love letter leads to a cycle of all too familiar events.

content: exes to almost lovers again, exes to friends au

warning: reader threatens to kill jeongin twice, insecurities, self-blame

for: @districtninewriters' dear skz, with love event. please be sure to check out all the fics written for this event! everyone in the net worked hard on them :)

word count: 2.4k

note: i want a jeongin :,)

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But it was definitely your name on the front.

You took in the minimalistic decoration of the beige envelope, mentally noting the small piece of looseleaf paper that had been torn at an aesthetic angle and taped down. Your name had been written in rainbow calligraphy on top of the looseleaf, a font you immediately recognized because your ex had used it plenty of times when decorating the tags on gift bags and appreciation cards to you. Each letter of your name casually leaked into an ombre of cool shades, and hand drawn sparkles littered the envelope.

You dreaded opening the letter, and wished you could stop feeling as blue as the ink your ex had used to write your name.

You were tempted to toss it in the trash, and bury it under the used romance novels you no longer wanted, but as quick as the urge to scream and throw away everything related to your ex had came, it had left.

Adrenaline coursed through you. Your fingertips were fast at ripping open the packaging, while your brain was hesitant to remember the pretty bleach-haired boy who had stolen your heart and then unintentionally crushed it just awhile ago.

Your ex's words were written on skyline stationary. Red and blue stripes twirled along the edges of the paper and a stamp of a smiley face followed by squiggly lines appeared at the top right corner. You were too scared to skim over a single paragraph. So you stood there, staring at the greeting instead.

I know this is sudden, ____.

Four minutes passed. And then you began to read.

You declined your group of friends' invitation to walk to the local bakery and then home with them after school. You had been holding in an immense amount of anger for your ex since you had read his letter to you last night. The letter could've easily been thrown in the trash after reading, but you couldn't help but become entangled in the words he spewed out into sentences.

It's not fair, You thought to yourself as you stomped up the stairs to the platform of the train station. It's not fair that he gets to remind me of everything and I don't get to say anything back to him. It's not fair that I have to think about why our relationship was so pretty.

"Pretty" is the word everyone used to describe the relationship you had with your ex. The both of you had taken it as a compliment back then, but now you knew why everyone referred to the two of you with such an adjective.

Pretty meant your relationship was attractive, it was pleasing to the eye on the outside, it was held at a fair degree. But what was it like on the inside? It was tame and decent, but complicated. Your ex always questioned what he truly felt for you, and it always made you wonder if you were doing something that made him doubtful.

Things had ended because you didn't want to feel more and more insecure as the days went by. It was fruitless to keep trying. Well, at least, it was to you.

"I'll kill him," you grumbled to yourself. A couple people waiting for the L train gave you a weird look. You tried to ignore their glances and the feeling of wanting to reminisce on the train ride you and your ex always shared before and after school during your relationship.

The two of you lived in the same apartment complex, but nowadays you did your absolute best to avoid him. You could've approached him there, instead, but you were so on edge you felt the need to return the letter before you got home. You had stopped taking the train a long time ago, too, desperately trying to avoid him at the train station as well. Now here you were trying to find him.

"I'll kill you!" You practically shouted at your ex. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him forward. You had forgotten what it had been like to stand so close to him, but you tried to ignore the blush that was pushing its way onto your face and the urge to pull him into a hug.

"What did I do?!" Yang Jeongin looked around awkwardly at the handful of people staring at both of you.

He was unsure of his emotions. One part of him was embarrassed by getting caught up in your sneak attack and the other part of him was happy that you were at least talking to him, even if you had just threatened his life. Jeongin was able to pry your hands -he had noticed how much smaller they were compared to his- off of him. He grabbed your hand and walked you towards an empty section of the platform.

Your heart fluttered, and when you glanced up as he pulled you along, you were seeing your surroundings in a sakura filter.

Jeongin stopped once you were at a spot without anyone around. "I-" He began to say, but you cut him off.

"Get your hands off of me!" You flailed your arms around until he took a step back.

Jeongin held his hands up in surrender. "Before you kill me, please tell me what I did."

"What is this?" You wasted no time in pulling out the crumpled envelope from Jeongin. "You're sending me love notes? After we already ended things?"

Jeongin looked like a deer caught in headlights. "H-how did you get that?"

"Your stupid ass sent it to me!"

"I- I did but-"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

"Well I don't care and I don't want this! I don't want you anymore!" You crumpled the envelope and letter into a ball and threw it at Jeongin's chest. It bounced off, and rolled onto the floor.

"Okay," Jeongin replied, his voice cracking. "You don't have to accept it. It was wrong of me to send you something after we had already broken up." He reached down for the crumpled up paper.

Jeongin held it up, hurt written across his features. The letter seemed to mean a lot to him, and even though he had hurt you in the past, you never wanted to make him feel bad.

You tried to snatch the mess you had made away from him but he held it up.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking annoyed. "What?"

"Give it back," You told him, trying to reach the crumpled letter.

"You just said you didn't want it." It was unlike Jeongin to raise his voice. "If you don't want it then I'll take it back."

"Why?"

"Because I care about what I wrote in it and I want it!"

"Stop!" You continued your attempt to take it from him.

You and Jeongin fought over the crumpled papers like two nine-year-olds fighting over a toy truck. You were able to get a good grip on his love note. You were holding on to his love and you refused to let it go this time. You lied when you said when you didn't want him, and you yanked the paper towards you. Only it didn't come to you as a whole.

It ripped in half.

"Look what you did," Jeongin said, not realizing the weight of his words.

Look what you did, ____, You scolded yourself. You messed it up again.

That was the last straw. You were tired and frustrated and still heartbroken. You crouched down, head in your hands and tears slipping down your cheeks. You were nothing left but sniffles and sobs and torn pages and haunted by the word, "pretty".

"It's not fair," You choked out. "Why did you do this to me?"

"____," Jeongin had calmed down and reached out to you. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," You told him. "Why did you send that if you didn't want to be with me anymore? What was the point of reminding me?"

Jeongin took a deep breath, gathering up whatever courage he had left. "Who says I don't want to be with you anymore? That's why I wrote you the letter. I'm just... not sure if you still want to be with me."

You didn't cut him off, so Jeongin took that as a chance to continue.

"I still think about you all the time. I wasn't sure how I felt about you when we were dating because we were both inexperienced and we rushed into things. That's not your fault, so don't think it was. I was the one who immediately said yes when you asked me out. I realized now that I did like you then and I still love you now, but at the time, I didn't know at all how to differentiate romantic feelings from platonic ones. I shouldn't have immediately said yes, I should've waited at least a day to confirm with myself that I did like you. If I hadn't rushed the both of us into something, we wouldn't have broken up. There wouldn't have been doubts or insecurities or anything wrong with us." Jeongin continued to rub your back soothingly. He was relieved that you had stopped shaking. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you feel like everything was your fault. And I'm sorry that you received a letter from me, because all it did was make things worse between us."

"Jeongin, I- I still love you too," You managed to get out.

It was in that moment that Jeongin realized he had said that he loves you. He gritted his teeth and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I need more time," You told him.

"I understand that." He nodded his head and gave you a small smile. "But can I walk you home?"

You nodded, and took the hand he offered to help you up off the ground. It felt like the first time again.

Jeongin barged into his younger brother's room. "Were you looking through my stuff?"

"Yes," His brother responded, scribbling into his notebook and ignoring the urge to give his older brother eye contact. "I was helping mom clean in your room."

"Why did ____ receive a letter I wrote ages ago before we broke up?" Jeongin crossed his arms, demanding an answer.

Jeongin's little brother blinked twice before turning to him shocked. "You wrote that before you guys broke up? It looked recent so mom sent me to the mailbox to drop it off."

"Well thank you for mailing it," Jeongin tried to end the conversation, but his brother pressed on.

"Oh I know why it looked recent," His brother have him a sly smile. "You kept it in good condition since that was the only thing of ____ you had left before they dumped you." Jeongin's little brother chuckled, going back to his notes. Then a thought popped into his mind. "Wait. Why are you thanking me?"

"No reason. Just, thank you," Jeongin told him sincerely. "Now stop touching other people's mail."

"Hey, what?" The younger was confused. "I don't understand you-" But Jeongin was already out of the room and heading back to his.

Jeongin sat at his desk in front of his bedroom window, and looked at his half of the ripped love note. He smiled to himself. He had written the letter ages ago and wanted to mail it to you as a cute gesture, but you had broken up with him the day after he had written it, and demanded all of your stuff back.

Jeongin held up his half, analyzing the piece of paper. He had the ending of the letter.

The boy caught sight of you at your bedroom window, staring from across the complex. You held up your half and smiled at him.

You had the start of the letter.

( THE LETTER )

I know this is sudden, ____.

But I wanted to send this to you because you mean a lot to me, more than I initially thought. I just want to talk to you all the time, and thinking about you puts the biggest smile on my face. I want to send you letters like this every week. No, everyday. And I want to fill your mailbox up with love notes and other things I hope you'll find adorable and wholesome so that when you go outside to open it, it explodes in an endless supply of my affection and my words kind of just fall around you. And you can think, "Wow, Jeongin really likes me. He likes me." Because I do like you.

Okay. That was pretty cheesy of me. It's only the truth, though. I have real romantic feelings for you, and I've been thinking about how much I like you for awhile now.

I remember when you stomped up the steps to the platform of the L train just a few months ago. You looked pissed and about ready to kill me. I won't lie to you, I was fearing for my life and I thought, "This is it. This is how I go. At the hands of a beautiful human." But you didn't kill me. You grabbed me by my shirt collar and you gave me a quick kiss and said, "I like your stupid ass." Not the most romantic confession, but it's the only confession I've ever gotten. It's the only confession I want and need.

And I remember you tripping and falling right after. I wanted to carry your bookbag for you, but you wouldn't let me. We kept asking each other why. "Why can't I carry it?" I asked, "Why do you want to carry it?" You asked. "Because I want to," I would say and then you would yell at me and tell me to give your bookbag back. We looked like ten-year-olds.

The train had pulled in and you tried to grab my hand and lead me inside, but you tripped over my foot and fell down instead. You fell so hard you started crying and I panicked inside. But when I rubbed your back and asked if you were okay, you said you were upset that you made me miss the train. I offered you my hand and you took, and now, I want to hold your hand forever.

So yeah, I like you a lot. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

With love, Jeongin.

all rights reserved | copyrights © spookybias. do not repost, translate, moderate, or copy any of my works.

[doexoeyes]

Of Finches & Firsts

Ok so here’s a fic I actually have on Wattpad and AOO3 but I decided to bring over here. On those sites I wrote a character for this story, but on here it’s gonna be Draco x Reader ♡ Only thing to note is that your last name in this story would be Finch (so to make sense of the title and some other little parts of the story) as well as you’re a Hufflepuff. Sorry to the other houses,I adore you all but Draco and a Hufflepuff is just to juicy to pass up (in the first book he literally say’s they’re the worst) so just trust me when I tell you that it’s all for the story. Anyways I hope you enjoy and if you’re interested in reading the original, here are the links:

Archive Of Our own link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707513

Wattpad link:

https://my.w.tt/ZoUHpu1e59

Summary: "A Hufflepuff? Crushing on a Slytherin? Sounds like the start of a terrible joke to me, but ok." You’ve harbored feelings for Draco Malfoy since your first year at Hogwarts. Secretly, of course, and very much from afar. But when you’re finally taken out of your role of being a background character in his life, will it be what you always wanted, or what you wish you never knew?

         Chapters

Chapter 1 ♡ Chapter 2

Chapter 1: The Firsts Of Many

The first time you ever saw Draco Malfoy was at the sorting hat ceremony your first year at Hogwarts. You thought he was striking upon first sight, with his silver grey eyes contrasting with his nearly white hair. You knew he would leave a lasting impression upon whoever looked at him, and you very much envied him for it. You felt like you were as plain a Jane as they came, especially when compared to him. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him for the rest of the night, drawn to, not just his features, but the mysterious aura that surrounded him.

When your name had gotten called for the sorting, you were incredibly nervous for many reasons:

1. For the house you were going to be sorted into that would shape your life for the next 7 years.

2. For the several hundreds of eyes watching you go up the steps.

3. For the white haired boy who you seemed to have developed the tiniest little crush on.

Thankfully, you made it up without tripping and making a complete fool of yourself and were pleasantly surprised to find out that the house you'd be sorted into was:

"Hufflepuff," the storing hat declared, and a thunderous applause followed suit.You smiled, looking towards the table with the yellow cladded students as they cheered and waved you over. You couldn't wait to tell your father, who was a proud Hufflepuff himself, that you were now one, too.

When it's Draco's turn to be sorted, you made sure to pay very close attention. A small silly part of you wanted to cross your fingers and hope that he'd somehow be sorted into Hufflepuff just like you.

Of course, that was a very optimistic wish.

"Slytherin," the hat announced, and all those hopes quickly came tumbling down because if there was one house you knew you weren’t going to be able to fit in with, it was Slytherin.

There went your chances of being potentially noticed by Draco Malfoy.

Letting out a sigh, you were able to manage a small smile as you clapped for the boy along with the rest of your fellow schoolmates.

You spent the entire year making new friends, learning spells, studying up for exams, and never having the opportunity to talk to Draco, your only regret of the year.

For Draco, his first year at Hogwarts consisted of him developing the reputation of being the school's bully. Most of his antics we concentrated heavily on Harry Potter and his friends, but he truly didn't spare anyone that wasn't a part of his Slytherin crew.

Still, this didn't lessen the small crush you had on him since the day of the sorting. Despite his actions, you really felt that the boy was much more than what he projected to the world.

The first time you ever got to talk to Draco Malfoy was during your second year, when you had accidentally run into him as you rushed to your potions class.

You were too busy worrying about making it in time to class, really not wanting a reason to make Snape chastise you, that you had forgotten to pay attention to your surroundings. A disastrous recipe for running into someone, which was exactly what ended up happening.

"Hey!" he said with a grunt as his books fell from his hands.

You, mortified, hardly even noticed it was Draco at first, as you immediately leaned down to pick up his books.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I'm a complete klutz. I should've been paying more attention, I just-" as you got back up from the floor, books recovered & in your arms, you froze as your eyes made contact with his striking silver ones.

"Yeah, you definitely should have! Next time, try not to run into your superiors, first year," he said in distaste, brushing off the sleeves of his robe.

You stood there, shocked into silence, feeling your cheeks warm and mentally trying to coach yourself through the moment.

Take a breath, don't sound so nervous.

"A-actually, we're in the same year. I...umm...I first saw you at the sorting, but we had History of Magic together. I sat a row ahead of you," you corrected, biting your lip.

He tore his gaze away from his sleeves and locked eyes with you again, a chill going down your spine.

"Really? Strange. I don't remember you. Then again, you Hufflepuffs are so forgettable," he stated with a roll of his eyes. 

"I'll take those," he said as he grabbed the books from your hands and walked off.

Just like that.

 No 'thank you', no apology. Not even an offer to walk you to class which you happened to share this year as well.

You watched him walk away, cheeks definitely as red as Gryffindor's robes at this point, feeling dejected and absolutely embarrassed. You always imagined what your first conversation with Draco would be, as pitiful as that sounded, but in your head it definitely never went like this.

You ended up late to potions class and got lectured by Snape in front of the whole class, including Draco himself and wondered if he remembered who you were, or if he once again erased you from his head and permanently labeled you as a 'forgettable Hufflepuff'.

The rest of the year went on as normal after that, nothing too special.

The first time you really understood what your feelings for Draco Malfoy were was in your third year, on the train ride to Hogwarts.

You watched from the window as the train passed through the lush scenery of grand trees & clear blue skies, hands fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. Your best friend, Mauve Ambrose, was seated beside you, gossiping about potential romances ("I think Ginny is head over heels for that Harry Potter kid and everyone knows it. Except, you know, that Harry Potter kid.") and who was to have the 'biggest glow up' of their entire year group ("My money is on Longbottom. Remember that I called it, ok. I want a witness to prove that I said it first.").

Hearing the candy trolley pass by, you perked up and politely excused yourself from your friend, walking out of the compartment. Your eyes searched for the trolley, determined to make it to it before the last of the chocolate frogs were taken, and caught it making its way towards the back of the train.

When you approached the trolley, you waited for the attendant to continue on along with one of the students as they picked out a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Once the attendant turned towards you, you smiled wide, ready to request a chocolate frog, when you felt someone approach from behind you.

"A chocolate frog for me, yeah? And make sure it doesn't have Dumbledore's card. I have like 10 of that old bat," said a familiar, snarky voice.

You turned and your breath immediately caught in your throat; it was Draco Malfoy.

"You're in luck, there was only one left. Although, I can't really confirm if this one has a Dumbledore or not..." the attendant said, handing him the box.

You frowned a rather sad frown, disappointed. Perhaps one would blame the Malfoy boy for taking your turn (you did get there first after all) but in truth, he wanted what he wanted and he wasn't afraid to get it.

In your mind, all was fair in candy and war.

"Hey, aren't you the girl who ran into me last year? The Hufflepuff?" he asked, eyes looking you up and down.

You felt so small in his presence. Although you were both about the same height your first year together, he towered over you at this point in time.

"I...y-yeah. That's me. Umm...my name's Y/N, actually. And congrats on the frog. I came to get one but you managed to get the last one," you said, trying to keep it cool on the outside when on the inside you were a mess of nerves.

You really wanted Draco to like you. Not in a big, important way, no. Just enough to remember your name, at least.

He continued on staring at you silently, even when you finished talking. His gaze felt like a microscope on you and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

"You have weirdly shaped eyes," he says bluntly after a moment and you really wished you knew a spell that would have the floor swallow you whole.

"Umm...." you were unable to come up with a response.

You wish you were witty or funny or charismatic, but socializing did at times become quite difficult for you, and you weren't gifted with a quick mind or a sharp tongue.

"Anyways, I'm gonna go enjoy my frog now," he said as he walked away.

You were not surprised to feel the slight sting of tears forming in your eyes. You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. You hated the fact that you were actually so sensitive. Your parents tried to make you feel better about it, stating that it just meant that you had a big heart.

“Well,” you thought, “if having a big heart meant it was easy for me to cry, then it didn't seem like a very good thing to have”.

Keeping your tears at bay (at least until you could sit down and put your sweater over your head so no one could see), you walked over to your compartment.

It was when you were nearly there that Draco's head popped out from his compartment's sliding door, startling you. You let out a small yelp, putting your hand over your mouth almost immediately after.

"Here, have this," he stated simply, as he reached his hand out towards you.

To your surprise, it was the chocolate frog box Your eyes widened, staring at it before cautiously retrieving it from his hand, switching your gaze back to him.

"I only wanted it for the card, and it's another stupid Dumbledore one" he claims, and before you could say anything, he slides the door shut, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the walkway, chocolate frog in hand.

It was then that you noticed that the box had its wrapping still in tact, meaning it was never opened in the first place.

Once you made it to your compartment and sat back down in your seat ("Nice! You got Celestina Warbeck," Mauve stated excitedly as she opened the box for you), You realized that your little crush on Draco Malfoy had turned into an actual one.

The first time you ever got to experience what it was like to fall in love with Draco Malfoy was in your fourth year at Hogwarts, a few weeks before the Yule Ball.

[scarluxia]

Let's talk about some Adventures I had in Phoenix, AZ in 2015. It came up in my FB Memories and even though I determined to let everything from last decade go, this one still rankles. I got "in trouble" with these people for being open about my experiences on my Facebook because, even though I hadn't mentioned names, they didn't like me "putting their business out there".

CW for ableism, depression, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and I'll try to put all that in the tags.

My partner, Loki (yes real name), and I had been urban camping in Portland, OR for about a month. It had gotten cold and rainy to the point where we couldn't safely stay living outdoors, and Loki's father (who didn't approve of me) had demanded he come back to California and live with Loki's uncle. He made it quite clear I was not welcome, so I ended up going to Arizona because I had a friend who was willing to put me up. She and I had known each other since 2008 and I figured I would be safe with her. At the time, Loki was much more easily influenced by what his family wanted, and we ended up having kind of a nasty set of conversations over whether he was abandoning me.

While in Portland, my wallet had been stolen so I had no ID or SS card. I had reported it stolen of course, but had received no response until I was leaving Arizona.

My friend in Arizona had two young sons, a husband, and a boyfriend. Now, I have some sensory issues that make it so I have a hard time being around children. High pitched noises hurt me to my bones, like, even now I have to leave the room if my son gets overly excited and starts shrieking.

I was sleeping on the couch in the living room, which was where the kids would go when they woke up and where the TVs and entertainment consoles were.

Anyway, they wanted me to contribute to the household and whatnot but I was severely depressed and I think I've provided all the context I can remember? If the rest of this doesn't make sense, please know that there was a part 1 but it came up in my Memories on a different day and i didn't think I would be rehashing it.

So I couldn't do work, couldn't do anything anyone had asked me to do to satisfaction because various things that did not, in fact, depend on me. Maybe I wasn't being enough of a ~team player~, I don't know. But anyway, I did my best with what I had. Sometimes, because of THE EXTREME FUCKING SENSORY ISSUES THAT COME WITH AUTISM, I would get overwhelmed by the kids screaming. Two little boys, barely school age, and their parents sat them in front of a TV and gave them controllers. That's it. They had toys in their room, sure, but they weren't getting outside. I suggested taking them out a couple times, but firstly, I didn't know the area and wasn't about to go out alone, and secondly, I can't split in half and I'm not in good shape, so even if I had known the area, I wouldn't have taken TWO small children outside to run around where they could run out of the designated area. I'm kind of anal that way, I guess. But Woman A (mum) and Man B ("uncle") never got off their arses to help me take them outside, and Man A was at work.

Oh, yes, parental interaction with the kids. Woman A loved her sons very much. But at their age (3 and 5), they both should have been toilet trained. They should have gotten at least two hours outside every day. They threw fits when they weren't allowed to play video games because, instead of games being a special treat that was earned with good behavior, they were toys carelessly tossed at the kids to keep them out of everyone's hair. Conversely, and bizarrely, reading to them WAS a special treat. The father woke up, played games, basically brushed off his kids, and went to work. Same when he got home for lunch, and he *ordered* us to have them in bed by the time he got home for good. The mum did somewhat interact with them, but mostly just wanted them out of her hair. I wasn't so nice because I'm not good with kids in general and also loud screeching HURTS, IT HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP. (Same with snoring, or any noise made when I want to sleep.) This isn't me being a ~diva~, it is an actual manifestation of a mental disability.

Woman A was of the opinion that "everyone who lives in a house with kids automatically becomes a coparent", maybe because she wasn't willing to actually parent her kids herself.

Note from the future: I still disagree with the idea that "anyone who lives in a house with kids is automatically a co-parent". Parent your own kids. I don't expect my dad to parent my son when we go visit him and he made it quite clear when I was pregnant that he would not take on a co-parenting role (because his wives 30-50 years ago had handled the babies and he doesn't really know how to calm them down beyond entertaining them)

She got a really bitchy look on her face whenever I (who have been around children, especially TROUBLED children, all my life) made any sort of suggestion. Well sorry, lady, but it's not like you're doing such a great job with them. Y'all act like you barely want anything to do with them. Like they're cute and little and fun to snuggle, but actually teaching them anything? Forget about it, just toss em a controller and hope they don't kill each other in the game or real life. Meanwhile, they have no outlet for their natural physical energy, no real outlet for their curiosity. They're going to grow up stupid and sedentary, with "no one paid attention to me during childhood except when it was convenient for THEM" to deal with. The older kid recently got on meds for a condition that, from what I observed, was likely much more nurture than nature. And what everyone ate, my God, those kids were the only non-overweight people in the house, and it's little wonder! I bought ACTUAL NUTRITIONAL food for everyone, and the adults look at me like I'm from some demon dimension. I made a light comment about how I'd never eaten anything like what they had growing up. You know, boxed potatoes, veggies out of a can, white bread, sugary peanut butter. And Woman A was like, "well YOU don't have kids."

Um, no, but my father did.

I have a kid now, am working part time at min. wage because my boss sees my performance as so-so (plus she's been forced to give me a raise every time the County of Where I Live raises the minimum), in a single-income household, on as much Family With Kids welfare as My County will allow, and I still wouldn't feed my kid that crap LOL

Spoiler alert: they made me use all my food stamps on their household and then kicked me out later that month so... When I bought food I bought HEALTHY food, like, I've been on food stamps my entire life... Also, WIC specifically pays for WHEAT bread, fruits & veggies, and they do let you get peanut butter without sugar so idk what was going on there with them.

My father was a SINGLE PARENT raising a daughter in America after 20 years of living in Europe and raising kids with his previous wives. Well, up until the divorces, anyway. I was the only kid he ever got to keep. He told me things about how the others had been raised compared to how I was raised, and I saw the outcomes of different parenting styles in my peers as well. My father was a very poor man whose trade had been outsourced and who struggled to support us for years. And yet, we never went hungry, and he never fed me boxed potatoes. Never fed me sugary peanut butter, white bread, or veggies out of a can.

Ok I understand canned veggies are better than no veggies, and not everyone can get fresh, but you CAN get frozen in AZ. I always had fresh or frozen growing up.

It wasn't because we were living in the lap of luxury. It's because...

HE FUCKING VALUED OUR HEALTH OVER CONVENIENT, CRAPPY, NUTRIENT-FREE FOOD!!!! This is not a difficult concept. He ALSO read to me every night, despite having what I now realise was a very grueling day at work just to put said healthy food on the table. I didn't get to watch TV or play computer games (edu-tainment, the only kind I was allowed) until after all my homework was done. I can't remember if I was a particularly active child, but I'm sure I had the OPTION!!!! TO GO OUT.

Meanwhile, when I was at various stages of my life, I met kids whose parents shunted them from guardian to guardian because they didn't want to deal with them, kids whose parents were kind and supportive but rubbish at enforcing discipline, kids whose parents were abusive in every kind of way, and kids whose parents did their best.

You know, I wasn't raised perfectly. My upbringing lacked social grace and included some toxic ideas about womanhood that I've only been learning to overcome recently in my adulthood. But DON'T FUCKING ACT LIKE I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RAISING KIDS JUST BECAUSE I DON'T CURRENTLY HAVE ANY. I have my own life, the lives of my peers, and a wonderful online community of new parents raising children in kind and socially aware ways, to draw inspiration from. I can go to any one of them, and to my own parents, and ask "hey does X seem weird to you?" And they'll give me their honest opinion, which *is valuable*. I have even mapped out a general idea of how to get through some parts of my children's lives, and I'm not even planning to have kids for at least another few years. I mean, honestly, it used to be "I don't want kids ever", but dear gosh, if I can have any part of raising someone in a manner that defies procrastination culture, entitlement culture, and everything wrong with the way my husband and I were raised, maybe it wouldn't be a complete horror. If I can ensure that not all hope for the next generation is lost, hey.

Anyway, I've gone off topic...

I also had some issues with the men. Man B just didn't seem to like anything ever. I had no idea what Woman A saw in him. I remember one time he tried to tell me, a Christian, that I can't tell people what a "real Christian" is because it ~invalidates their identity~. Excuse me, no. It doesn't work that way. There are things that Christ taught, and anyone who blatantly goes against them IN THE NAME OF CHRISTIANITY, IS NOT A REAL CHRISTIAN. And yes, I realise this entire rant has been very judgey and technically I'm not supposed to do that either, but it's not like I'm saying they're going to Hell. Just that their kids are going to be sluggish and stupid, and I can't understand how these people have the gumption to try to lecture anyone else about life when they're not even TRYING to get their own lives together.

Yeah so they tried to lecture me about how I was "letting" Loki mistreat me and how I cared more about "socializing" with my estranged husband (I have separation anxiety) than helping around the house e_e They also implied I used depression as an excuse to be lazy.

Man B was supposedly "super employable." Well, okay, even though his "job hunt" seemed to consist more of sitting around playing video games, he was larger than my father (who is 6 ft tall with a protruding gut and weighs 240 lbs at last count) (My father and I are both 60 lbs above our ideal weights. But we're working on it!), and never seemed to get past the phone-screening process.

Now, Woman A told me that Man B was looking for work and that her family and some friends looked down on him for being a freeloader. Probably because she was anxious about me thinking the same. But here's the thing: I wouldn't have cared. Honestly. If you want to sit around playing games all day in your married girlfriend's apartment with her and her husband playing video games all day, go right ahead. If you want to bake three potatoes at a time and take them back to your room for a snack, hey, more power to you. But don't piss out the window and call it rain.

I don't care how employable you are, where you live, who you're living with, or what your lifestyle is like. It doesn't affect me in any way. But don't act like you're doing something you're not just to appease someone's judgmental family. That doesn't ever end well.

Now, see, I clearly have a problem with people who do that. I don't hide many aspects of myself, though I will refuse to answer a question if I feel it's none of someone's business or if they're just asking it to be a judgmental asshole. I refuse to compromise myself or my safe space to accommodate someone who can't make peace with who they are. Hell, you know me! You know my show!

Wait, this is Tumblr, so you might not know my show. It's a YouTube storyboard dedicated to processing and mocking some spiritual and psychological abuse I've undergone in my life. On Facebook, it was one of the things I was known for at the time because I was constantly posting clips and art, and trying to recruit voice actors.

I sell anyone out who I catch lying to me about anything! That's nothing new! And these people knew that about me. For SEVEN. FUCKING. YEARS.

So anyway. Woman A has a lot of great short term goals but no actual follow through because "I'm just not in the mood right now." No judgment there. I've totally been there. The only problem is when it gets ME in trouble.

"Let's walk the dog." "I'm not in the mood." Okay, then the dog doesn't get walked because I can't figure out my way around the place alone.

"Let's do the dishes." Woman A doesn't let me know when the washer stopped. Okay. Then the rest of the dishes don't get washed.

"Let's take the kids outside." "No I'm too tired." Okay, then they're going to be RUNNING AROUND THE APARTMENT SCREAMING WHICH MY EARS CANNOT FUCKING HANDLE so bye I'm just gonna borrow your room and isolate myself for a bit.

"Let's go to the gym!" "Maybe later." But later never comes.

Do you see where I'm going here? As for the men, they BOTH complain that they're "doing too much" around the house. Okay, probably fair for Man A, who works full time and deserves to come home to a clean house. But Man B. Wtf. You literally do nothing, except when you do, and when you do, we're meant to throw you a parade? That's not how adulthood works, or so I've heard.

Note: All three of these people are older than me. I was 24? at the time, fresh out of trade school, on my own for the first time in my life. (Maybe 2nd? I ran away when I was 17 but ended up with my grandparents so idk if that counts.) Woman A was 26 at the time and had been married since 2008, had experience with office work and parenthood, etc. Both men were older than her. I was a chronological adult with the life experience of a teenager, so I felt comfortable saying that.

So did I mention that I'm sleeping in the living room during this stay? And the adults don't go to bed until like 2 AM, which means, because of my disability, wherein I cannot sleep if there's any sort of non-ambient noise, *I* don't get to sleep until AFTER 2 AM. And the kids? They come in the living room screaming at 6 AM. Yep. Okay. Living on 4 hours of sleep, for the mathematically challenged. That and dealing with the emotional turmoil of being separated from my husband when I've got high separation anxiety in the first place. All my pain, everything, it's up to 11. and I'm supposed to contribute but there's not really anything that allows me to contribute.

So what do they do? They ambush me. Call a "family meeting" to tell me absolutely everything that's wrong with me, after WEEKS of telling me what a big help I am and how grateful they are to have me around. Tell me I'm letting my "social life" get in the way of me helping around the house. Hmm. Social life. You mean, VENTING IN MY SAFE SPACE (Facebook, no names named) AND TRYING TO MEND THINGS WITH MY HUSBAND??????????????? Okay. Well since you guys treat your woman like shit, you clearly don't understand or appreciate devotion to one's spouse. Seriously. Woman A told me she used to have extreme separation anxiety with Man A, and that he would brush off her emotions as irrelevant. Her solution was to make it a poly relationship and take a lover WHO TREATS HER THE EXACT SAME WAY. I'm serious. She got no emotional support from either of them. They basically just threw pills at her and trained her to lie down until her feelings went away.

And she had the gall to lecture me (24 at the time) about how Loki (19 at the time & from a pretty horrific family) treated me. LOL ok. Log. Splinter.

As she knew, I'm monogamous. I do have some opinions on polyamoury based on individuals I've gotten to know who are in those types of relationships, but those opinions are irrelevant to this series of rants. Except one, which is pertinent: if you're going to take another lover, they should provide something that your existing lover(s) don't. If you're suffering from low emotional support and you just find someone else who doesn't emotionally support you and who treats you like a child who can't be trusted??? What are you even DOING? Like, she told me NEITHER of her men trust her judgment. What the fuck is a relationship without trust? And don't even try "dick too bomb" as an excuse when you tell me you haven't gotten laid in months and your husband is using your condoms on Woman B.

They don't support you. They don't trust you. And yet YOU'RE telling ME that things with my husband won't get better unless I follow your lead and take another lover? HELL TO THE NO. My husband has his faults, but if I tell him Person X can be trusted, he believes me.

Except for his ex-girlfriend whom he tried to add to our relationship when he tried to be poly, months later. That went Badly.

Or maybe he just knows I'll deal with them myself, with my hot, hot temper, if they turn out not to be trustworthy. He also doesn't treat me LIKE A CHILD. And while I sometimes point at things and make small motions when I can't physically talk, or sometimes even use baby talk when I'm feeling cutesy, I DON'T POINT AT A PIECE OF PAPER AND GO "THE CARRRRRR!!!!" IN AN INCREASINGLY HIGHER PITCH BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY, "Honey, I think we missed the car payment this month. Can you double check while the agent has you on hold, please?"

Okay, being a dick about losing words due to stress was not my finest moment, but at the time, I was just so appalled by how they treated her and how she allowed them to treat me.

So basically these adults who are nowhere near having their lives together, and aren't even really trying, put me on blast for not having everything running perfectly when THEY expected it to.

Let's reiterate. I couldn't get a job because I had no ID or social security card. I was waiting for them to be returned to me. I couldn't walk the kids or the dog, go to the gym, or complete all the household chores because no one would guide me. I need that guidance because of various components of my disability, which I really hate admitting to because I'm super fucking prideful, but I figured hey, she's not neurotypical either. These people will understand.

Their response when I brought this up? "You're an adult. You should know better." Sure, okay. But you should know that a child ought to be potty trained before he turns 5, or even 3; that kids need to run around, are entitled to their parents' attention and consistent discipline, and need!!! healthy!!!! food!!!!

Oh, discipline! So, she would send Older Boy to his room over misbehaving. But rather than enforce time-out, she'd go, "oh, I think I'm being too haaaard on him," and just... Relinquish. He's not about to learn anything that way, ma'am.

They called me trying to reconnect with the person I love more than almost anyone on this earth "obsessing over your social life". Well again, you treat your woman like shit, so MAYBE my undying devotion to the person I love goes a LITTLE bit over your head.

They told me that the household should be my first priority. Except no, because I am an autonomous person and my FIRST PRIORITY is, was, and ever has been the love of my life, whomever that may be at the time. That is 70% of my personality. I'm pretty sure anyone who had ever met me can vouch for my extreme devotion, and this woman had known me for SEVEN. YEARS. I'm not going to throw away 70% of myself to do an impossible task that no one will help me with.

They told me a lot of things I wasn't doing right, and for those of you who also struggle with anxiety and depression, you know that being told for weeks that everything is okay and you're so great and so helpful, and then being told that you're rubbish at everything... You know that that is hurtful. Devastating, even. I wanted to kill myself. I said that. I said that and expressed my feelings about some other things, in my safe space, without naming any names.

And even though I was posting in my safe space, I was polite about it. I was as gentle and rational as possible. I wasn't calling anyone out. Not like I am now. I wasn't trying to lead a witch hunt. I was just overwhelmed and trying to express my feelings. Trying to get myself not to kill myself. I had to tell myself over and over again that it's not what Loki would want for me.

In the morning, they woke me up and kicked me out. Said it was rude for me to say I don't care about their household. I never, NEVER said that. I said "Loki is my first priority." Something along the lines of "that's just how I am and I shouldn't be vilified for it." That doesn't mean I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. IT JUST MEANS THAT MY PRIORITIES WILL *NEVER* BE WHAT SOMEONE ELSE WANTS THEM TO BE. I AM A PERSON. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECIDE WHAT TO PRIORITISE, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO LOVE MY HUSBAND!!!

I MEAN, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. MY NAME IS *SIGYN*. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU IGNORANT ASSHOLES EXPECT?! WHY THE HELL SHOULD YOU HAVE FELT THREATENED BY ME SAYING ANYTHING IF I DIDN'T NAME NAMES AND WAS ACTUALLY RATIONAL? IF YOU SAW THIS, *MAYBE* YOU WOULD HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE PISSY, BUT NOT THEN!

They kicked me out after having asked me to buy them all food. I had used up all my food stamps. Because I hadn't anticipated this at all. I hadn't known they would take such offence to my existence, to my ways. To the fact that I value the man I married more than I value... Whatever they wanted me to value, I guess.

Fun fact: I ended up in a women's shelter after this, and one woman told me to actually kill myself because she was tired of hearing me cry at night.

They said I hadn't made any effort to get my life on track. Because I can just snap my fingers and make my ID appear. Because I can just manifest the money for a replacement. They said all these things that left me almost unable to breathe, in retaliation for me posting that I was suicidal.

Later, Woman A told me that this had been a long time coming and that they were trying to make room for Woman B and Woman C, both of whom were willing to have sex with the men, which is something that I would not. I feel the first woman I met at the shelter was accurate when she said they basically kicked me out because I wouldn't sleep with them.

I also later found out that my ID and SS card had been returned to sender. The Portland PD called me and told me. So my father came to the conclusion that the people I had been staying with sabotaged me from the start. For a while, I didn't feel it, but last night I dreamed about it, and the dream made me angry. I didn't deserve to be treated that way. And I really had to get all this off my chest, so for those of you who didn't immediately whip out your tiny violins, thank you.

[bobasheebaby]

100 New Girl Prompts

So many prompts, most of which are funny. Break at 15 cause it’s mega long.

1 "I'm using my bride/groom card!" — Cece

2 “Can we just take a minute to celebrate me?" — Schmidt

3 “So many emotions." — Nick

4 “I'm totaling my assets. It's really bleak." — Jess

5 “Look at those horny horny hippos.” — Nick

6 “I got mozzarella sticks for fingers." — Nick

7 “Every moment you're on this Earth is a moment I know where you are." — Nick

8 “It is my Secret Santa alias." — Winston

9 “Friend face." — Winston

10 “It's perfectly fine to watch TV all day." — Nick

11 “If I were off my rocker, would I take a weekly selfie with my cat?" — Winston

12 “I can't find my driving moccasins anywhere." — Schmidt

13 “Believe it or not, that's not the first time someone's broken my feeling stick. I have a travel size." — Jess

14 “Put on some pants, or at least some really high socks." — Jess

15 “You like me? You like my personality?" “I was surprised, too.” — Schmidt & Cece

16 "I just wanted to listen to Taylor Swift alone!" — Jess

17 “That's like the president and the vice president not being best friends." — Winston

18 “I'll take the strongest drink you have, and also a wine spritzer on the side in case I don't like it." — Jess

19 “You have the right...to remain hugged." — Coach

20 “If you are for one second suggesting that I don't know how to open a musical, how dare you!" — Schmidt

21 “I was sabotaged by my baby box." — Jess

22 “We are literally the most embarrassing people on the planet." — Jess

23 "It's a weird life, but it's where I'm at right now." — Nick

24 "You gave me a cookie, I gave you a cookie." — Nick

25 “Go put a dollar in the jar right now." — Coach

26 “This is my jam." — Coach

27 “Saturday is a day for sleeping, and damn it, you will not take that away from me!" — Winston

28 “Are we eating or are we not eating?" — Winston

29 "Eating cookies and avoiding confrontation." — Jess

30 “Because it's a great story, and I'm a teller of stories." — Nick

31 “I like being weird." — Jess

32 "This is the worst thing to ever happen to me. I've lived a very fortunate life!" — Jess

33 "I don't like it. It's too much responsibility." — Nick

34 “Are you cooking a frittata in a sauce pan? What is this – prison?” — Schmidt

35 “I hate your mustache because I miss your upper lip.” — Schmidt

36 “He’s/She's got that giant heart that's part compass and part flashlight and he’s/she's just the greatest person I have ever met.” — Nick

37 “Who's that guy/girl? It's NAME." — Jess

38 “Watch your front because we've got your back!” — Cece

39 “Picking lint off of a man's/woman’s sleeve is the most intimate gesture.” — Cece

40 “Blast from the past, how's that ass?” — Jess

41 “I hate this. I just wanna sit around and do nothing, but that is not hot.” “That's hot to me. You add some sweatpants to that and that is better than porn.” — Kai & Nick

42 “Look at that font! What is this? Amateur hour? At least use Palatino.” — Nick

43 “I’m like a sexual snowflake. Each night with me is like a unique experience.” — Schmidt

44 “Where have you been? I am having a major life crisis, and you guys are, what, just driving around, French kissing each other like a couple of Dutch hookers?” — Schmidt

45 “No sig oths.” “Just say ‘significant others.” “Maybe you have that kind of time, but I’m on a tight sched.” — Schmidt & Cece

46 “I know this isn’t gonna end well, but the whole middle part is going to be awesome.” — Nick

47 “NAME, you’ve been staring at this guy/girl for 5 minutes. Please tell me you’re checking him/her out, otherwise you’re a serial killer. Which would explain a lot.” — Schmidt

48 “This is a horrible neighborhood. There are youths everywhere!” — Schmidt

49 “Guess whose personalized condoms just arrived!” — Schmidt

50 “I’m really gonna need you to step it up tonight, okay? When I see you, I wanna be thinking, ‘Who let the dirty slut out of the slut house?’” — Schmidt

51 “Can someone please get my towel? It’s in my room next to my Irish walking cape!” — Schmidt

52 “Have you seen my sharkskin laptop sleeve?” — Schmidt

53 “Don’t pretend to know my pain.” — Schmidt

54 “Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” — Nick

55 “I don't know what I'm doing emotionally or -- let's be honest -- sexually.” — Jess

56 “What if I have some idea of love in my head and it’s just totally wrong?” — Jess

57 “Life sucks. And then it gets better. And then it sucks again.” — Nick

58 “I like getting older, I feel like I’m aging into my personality.” — Nick

59 “You know, sometimes I feel like I’ve never really felt love.” — Winston

60 “When you care about somebody you do what's best for them even if it sucks for you.” — Schmidt

61 “Old people freak me out. With their hands and their legs. They’re like the people version of pleated pants.��� — Schmidt

62 “I’m gonna have to run all the way home, and I have my slipperiest loafers on.” — Schmidt

63 “Downstairs neighbour put a password on their wi-fi.” — Nick

64 “You were denied a cell phone because you have the credit score of a homeless ghost.” — Schmidt

65 “I’m only attracted to guys/girls who are afraid of success and think someone famous stole their idea.” — Jess

66 “This place is fancy and I don’t know which fork to kill myself with.” — Nick

67 “Without sex, he’s/she’s not your boyfriend/girlfriend. Okay? He’s/She’s a friend you buy meals for.” — Schmidt

68 “I feel like I wanna murder someone. And also, I want soft pretzels.” — Jess

69 “So when I do the chicken dance, I do it a little differently. Instead of doing claps, I like to do a peck. It’s more realistic.” — Jess

70 “NAME doesn’t have a life plan. He/She doesn’t have a day plan. I once found a note that he/she wrote to himself that said, ‘Put on pants.'” — Jess

71 “I don’t want to kiss and tell, but I ruined my dresser during intercourse. Will you go to Ikea with me?” — Jess

72 “Can I get an alcohol?” — Nick

73 “I want to kill you, because I respect you. NAME! I think I understand hunting!” — Nick

74 “Look, we’re not trying to be mean. We just don’t want you to be yourself… in any way.”

75 “I have decided to give up on men/women and put all of that energy into tomatoes.”

76 “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, a summer’s day is not a bitch!” — Nick

77 “I only wanna make a drink a coal miner would want. Straight forward. Honest. Something that says, ‘I work in a hole.'” — Nick

78 “I’m not convinced I know how to read, I’ve just memorized a lot of words.” — Nick

79 “I like chipmunks more than squirrels.” — Nick

80 “I can’t believe I’m the sober one. That’s actually never happened before in my life.” — Nick

81 “Beans are nothing but soggy nuts.” — Schmidt

82 “Can I interest you in some white noise?” — Winston

83 “Those are pickles in progress.” — Winston

84 “Who’s talking to you, Depression-era garbage man?” — Coach

85 “I need everyone to shut up.” — Coach

86 “Your asses belong to me now.” — Coach

87 “That’s what’s up, that’s what’s up. No doubt. Diggity.” — Coach

88 “I hate when Schmidt cries. He sounds like a ghost singing ‘Hey Ya.'” — Coach

89 “I’ve made out with half of the guys/girls in this room.” — Cece

90 “You always see the worst in people.” “Yeah, because people are the worst.” — Jess & Nick

91 “I’m sorry we’re not going this weekend.” “But It’s free.” “Did you say free?” “Yeah.” “We’re 100% in. I’ll go pack now.” — Nick & Jes

92 “I’m going to end up alone. I’m going to be a single old man/lady flashing people on the subway.” — Jess

93 “I’ve got two perfectly good forks on the end of my arms.” — Nick

94 “If we needed to talk about feelings they would be called talkings.” — Nick

95 “When you question my pajamas, you make me question our entire friendship!” — Jess

96 “Why can’t I have the things that I want?!” — Schmidt

97 “Bathtubs are medieval filth cauldrons.” — Schmidt

98 “They don’t hate me because I’m old. They hate me because of my personality.” — Schmidt

99 “It’s like you’re ripping the side block out of my mental Jenga.” — Schmidt

100 “I’m not actually quite sure how to stop this.” — Schmidt

[hannibal-stop]

I'm curious whether either of us can survive separation ( A Valentine’s Ficlet with a Johnlock bonus scene!)

Hannibal stopped walking and closed his eyes for a second. The noisy crowd of Plaza de Armas immediately disappeared, and he found himself sitting in the small, quite room of his mind palace in which one of his favorite memories was secured. “If I saw you every day, forever, Will, I would remember this time.” When he pronounced these words, almost four years before, he knew two things: that life would have never been so generous to allow him see Will every day, forever, and that, for this very reason, that moment would become one of the most significant images of Will stored in his memory.  “I’m curious whether either of us can survive separation.” When he heard these words, instead, he didn’t know how appropriate the use of the word “survive” had been.

The accuracy of details of his mind palace, his refined ability to alienate himself from reality whenever it suited him, made him more than sure that he would have been able to survive separation. But Will. What about Will? His constant efforts to refuse and deny his nature had pushed him to literally banish Hannibal not only from his life, but from his mind, too.  ”I don’t want to think about you anymore.” Hannibal knew that he could always count on his mind palace and that that separation would’t be a problem to him. But Will, Will had demanded that separation and then had rejected the only way he had to survive it.  “I’m curious whether either of us can survive separation.” Curiosity. Curiosity was usually at the roots of Hannibal’s actions and, now, apparently, of Will’s as well. But that time, Hannibal wasn’t curious. He didn’t want an answer to the question Will had posed a few days before, he wanted a solution. The solution had been to give Will the possibility to end their separation if he needed to. In other words, Will imposed that separation on them, so he had to impose his presence on him. “This way, we both will survive separation”, he told Will with his eyes, as the handcuffs were tightened around his wrists. As expected, during the three years he spent confined behind the glass wall of his cell, he tolerated perfectly well Will’s absence, spending most of his time with his memories; Will, forced to know the exact position of the other, had been even able to begin a new life.

Still standing in the middle of the square, his eyes closed, Hannibal moved from the small, warm room where he and Will sat together to admire Botticelli’s Primavera, to the hall of his mind palace, where the vivid image of his second separation from Will was waiting for him: it has been three months since the fall, months which they had spent recovering from their wounds in a clinic Hannibal had told Chiyo to take them. But the day the woman told him the FBI might have a lead to that place, although Hannibal had a list of other doctors and clinics which could’ve helped them, they decided to part, as at that point their conditions were generally good, or, at least, good enough for them to take care of themselves. Will was in front of him, his eyes a bit gloomy. They both had a small bag in their right hand and travel tickets and fake passports in the inside pocket of their jackets. But the destination printed on the tickets was different: Havana, Cuba, was the destination Chiyo had chosen for Hannibal, London was the one she had chosen for Will. Neither of them questioned her choices nor asked for an explanation. They had told her to book them two flights for two different places of the world and she had obeyed. They knew the FBI would look for them; they knew they couldn’t just run away together - not immediately, at least. Handing Will a black business card with his fake name and his new phone number printed in gold - which of course Will was required not to use, unless in real danger or emergency, Hannibal was absolutely sure there would have been no problems with this new period of separation. He was wrong.

Hannibal opened his eyes, took a long breathe and started walking towards Calle Obispo. Less than three months since he arrived in Cuba has passed, and something completely unexpected happened: his brain had begun hallucinating Will’s smell, again and again. First, it happened in crowded places, such as the market or the theatre. His first instinct had been to turn around and look for Will, but as he knew that more than seven thousands kilometers of water laid between them, he ignored that instinct. Then he had begun to smell him when he was alone. While cooking, while taking a shower, while tying his tie or drawing or reading or writing or eating. Especially while eating. Having done every possible exam and test, and having found nothing, Hannibal concluded - to his great dismay - it should be a principle of depression.

The FBI had found the clinic three days after they had left, therefore, they decided to spend at least one year without speaking to each other, as Hannibal’s renown tendency to contact the people he’s interested in could have alarmed the FBI at even the slightest trace of a letter or a note possibly left by him. Of course, they would be looking for them anyway, but this way it would have been easier not to be found. Hannibal and Will knew they could have spoken through Chiyo, but neither of them needed a filtered conversation with the other. They had nothing to tell that didn’t feel private, or better, intimate. To be honest, the only conversation Hannibal would appreciate was a face to face one, but he knew he had to be patient. The only thing he could do, was to look for Will in his mind palace every time he felt the need to. And it happened more and more frequently.

When he finally reached his home, he was still thinking to his… problem. As he opened the door, he immediately knew something was wrong. The last time he had seen Chiyo was when she gave him and Will their respective flight tickets, but he was completely sure that what he was smelling was her perfume. How was it possible? She should’ve been in the US monitoring the FBI movements. Was it another olfactory hallucination? He went to the kitchen to drink, his mouth was dry and he need some water. On the centre of fridge door the he found a small, silver magnet shaped like an orchid holding a squared piece of paper. At least Chiyo’s smell was real, she had been there. Hannibal’s relief disappeared all at once as he realized something must have been really wrong if she had felt the urge to fly to Cuba and go to his house to leave him a message, instead of waiting for the weekly call the three of them had agreed she would be giving them to some pre-established public phone. He unfolded the note: “He didn’t answer his call, three days ago. I have waited for him to contact me, but he hasn’t. I’m already on my way back to US, I have to move from my current apartment because they’re gonna find it. Call me tonight and let me know if you want me to reach him.”  He didn’t understand. Even though Chiyo didn’t know it, Will had an emergency number. His number.   “Why wouldn’t he call my number, or at least Chiyo’s, if he were in troubles? Has he met someone again? But this wouldn’t be a valid reason not to answer the call. He knows the importance of that call. But has he met someone? No, he’s not a stupid. But he could be sick. Will… could be sick.” Hannibal mentally reviewed what disease or problem could Will have. “The call was supposed to be three days ago. This means that the last time she spoke with him was ten days ago, during the last call. A lot can happen in ten days. And what if he omitted something to Chiyo? What if his conditions had worsened and he hadn’t told her? Or has someone found him? Who could possibly be looking for him, besides FBI?”  Thoughts were starting to pile up in his head; he stopped them and decided he had to look for him. It was his turn, this time. Even though she carefully avoided to express her opinion, when Hannibal asked Chiyo for Will’s address, he could tell from the tone of her voice she didn’t think that was a wise decision at all; however, in that moment all he cared for was Will’s safety. Not his.

Although Hannibal’s patience had been meticulously trained for decades, the flight seemed to last an eternity. But it was nothing compared to the taxi trip to Will’s apartment. He would’ve preferred to rent a car, but he knew he would have driven too fast and could have called someone’s attention, not to mention it had been years since he last drove a left hand drive car. The heavy traffic obliged the taxi driver to stop the vehicle forty-seven times - Hannibal counted them to restrain himself from killing the innocent man in the front seat. He almost failed to control his instinct when the driver suddenly slammed on the brakes nearly making Hannibal hit his head on the seat headrest in front of him, but the scene he saw immediately after distracted him from his impulses: two men were crossing the road, they were about Will’s age and one of them - the taller, dark haired guy, whose curls reminded him of Will’s, was pushing a stroller with a little baby girl in a pink lace dress, while the other - way smaller, blond hair, was keeping his right hand on his partner’s forearm and thanking the driver for stopping to let them cross with a smile.  That lovely family shot made Hannibal wish for a moment he had escaped with Abigail and Will. Will. He looked away from the couple and focused on the road again, thinking he shouldn’t be too far from his destination. When he finally arrived in front of the door, he rang the bell, twice. No answer. He rang the bell of another floor and told the young lady who answered that he had lost his key. Once in, he rushed up all the three floors of stairs which separated him from Will’s apartment. The door was shut, he knocked three times, in vain, but decided that it was better not to shout his name. The neighbors’ attention was the last thing he needed now. Silently but quickly, he forced the door. He moved two steps inside and froze.The house was dark and smelled like an old wooden trunk which has been closed for years. Hannibal pushed some switches but nothing happened. Using his phone light, he looked around to find out there were no light bulbs in the sockets. There were clothes and food wrappers - not a lot, Hannibal noticed - all over the floor, while a pile of newspapers lied on a chair. The most recent one dated back to the last month. Among the disgusting smells he could detect, he found a faint trace of Will’s scent. He tried to follow it, supposing it would come from his bedroom. He reached the only closed door of the corridor and opened it. “Who’s there?” sputtered Will. His voice sounded like he hadn’t spoke for days. Hannibal released a breathe and he felt like he hadn’t breathed for months.  Will was there, and he was alive.  “It’s me, Will” No answers, no moves. Hannibal reached him and tried to light the bedside lamp, but of course it didn’t work, so he went to the window and opened the blinds. Will moaned in protest and pulled the duvet over his head. Hannibal would have liked to open the window, too, but that day was particularly cold and the last thing Will needed was a flu, so he went to sit on the bed and gently touched Will’s hand. He shivered. It didn’t feel like the hand he had touched so many times before. He slowly lowered the cover to reveal the man’s face. Will’s hair and beard were long and covered almost entirely his skinny face. So skinny. The beautiful, blue eyes slowly raised to met his. Hannibal winced. “I’m so sorry, Hannibal”  “Tell me what happened Will”, said Hannibal, helping him to sit on the bed. Will was really underweight. And needed a shower. “Nothing. Nothing happened. I just… I just… felt so alone. I was alone. And I had nothing to do, so…” Will paused to clear his throat. It really must have been days since he last spoke. “I had nothing to so, so I just did nothing.” Hannibal sighed.  “I’m sorry, Hannibal, really, I… you… you shouldn’t have took the risk to come here. I have been stupid.” “I feel so guilty for this I can barely breathe. I’ll take you away and take care of you, Will” was what Hannibal was thinking. “Why didn’t you call me or Chiyo?”, he said instead. Will looked down. “Were you ashamed?” Will nodded. “How long has it been since you last ate?” The scrawny shoulders shrugged. “Will, do you know what this… condition is?” Will nodded again. “I… d… depression”, he murmured. Hannibal caressed Will’s hair and hugged him, so that their heads laid on the other’s shoulder. It wasn’t the first time they hugged like that, and, like the last time, Will was shaking and shivering, but at least he wasn’t bleeding. “You know, Will, I have been hallucinating your smell in Cuba. This… is a symptom of depression as well.” Will chuckled, and Hannibal smiled, unseen.  “Looks like now you’ve got your answer” Will raised head and looked at Hannibal. “Mh?” “Apparently, none of us can survive separation. Not anymore.”  “Then don’t leave me” “I won’t.” Will smiled. “What… what day is it?” “It’s… oh.” Hannibal paused for a second. “It’s the fourteenth of February.” “Then you must be my Valentine” “Indeed”, said Hannibal, and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. “But you have to shower and start to eat again.” “I will”, promised the man.

On the other side of the ocean, Jack Crawford and five agents were entering Chiyo’s abandoned house. It was empty. In the kitchen, in the centre of the table, a white envelope with Jack’s name on it. “Maybe…” an agent was about to suggest him not to touch it, but the look Jack gave him made him think better of it. That handwriting left him no doubts. He opened it.  “You bastard”, said Jack, but he couldn’t help smiling reading the short sentence Hannibal had left for him: “I followed my heart to United Kingdom.”