#or about how common it is to discuss weight and weight loss

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

wait, what's the difference between hpv and hiv and aids? i thought hiv was just aids and hpv was like. another term for hiv please 😭

okay. before I do this. I do want to remind everyone that this kind of info is incredibly easy to seek for yourself, with the help of simple search times like "what is hpv" or "hiv wikipedia," and I do really encourage doing that! learning how to seek out information is an important skill!

but god I am going to do this anyway, here we go.

HPV is human papillomavirus, an extremely common viral infection that virtually every sexually active person will contract at some point in their life. there are nearly 200 stains of HPV, nearly all of which are harmless, but there are 2 that can (but don't always) cause genital warts and 13 that can (but don't always) cause cancers of the cervix, anus, vagina, vulva, penis, and throat. roughly 90% of cases of HPV clear up and go away on their own within two years of contraction without ever causing any health problems; the majority of people who have it will be asymptomatic the entire time and may never know they have it.

HIV is human immunodeficiency virus, a virus that attacks and drastically weakens the immune system when untreated. it is considered an STI but is not spread exclusively through sexual contact, as it can also be transmitted via unclean syringes shared between people as well as from parents to children via childbirth or breastfeeding. while HIV can be fatal, usually when it develops into AIDS, as I posted about earlier tonight proper medicine and management can allow people with HIV can live full, healthy lives and even completely negate their risk of transmitting HIV.

it's also important to discuss PrEP (pre-exposure prophylaxis), which can be taken by people who do not have HIV to drastically reduce their risk of contracting it, and PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis) which can be taken for 28 days starting up to 72 hours after potential exposure to HIV to greatly reduce the risk of the virus taking hold.

AIDS is acquired immunodeficiency syndrome. AIDS develops when HIV is left untreated and progresses over years, when the immune system has been severely depleted. at this point people are very prone to what are known as "opportunistic" infections and cancers, further health complications that their immune system is unable to fight off as it ordinarily would. people with AIDS often deal with a state of constant fatigue, fever, chills, weakness, inflammation, and weight loss.

so, you know. slightly different things!

[anachronistica]

Put the work in.

i think it’s important when submissive and traditional women are unmarried to be constantly working on themselves. I feel the same way about Dominant and traditional men. Even though we are single, we should all be putting in the effort to learn to become the best partners for our dynamics as we can.

While I am no longer single, I mentor, coach and help many friends who are single in this lifestyle. These are my recommendations of why to continuously be learning and growing as a Dom or a sub while single, both sfw and nsfw.

Things a sub can/should do to prepare for a future Dom-

learn to cook and to set a proper table

learn to communicate in a polite, constructive way with no dramatic or abrasive tones

get into a good routine with cleaning and know how to clean / stain remove / disinfect all types of surfaces

have a decent wardrobe for casual, semi formal and formal attire

work on any weight loss or gain / appearance / health related (mental and physical) issues to keep yourself healthy

read up about common dynamic rules, expectations, day in the lifes, etc. to see what you like and don’t like (as well as collars, contracts, etc.)

learn to budget , grocery shop, meal prep / plan, learn block schedules techniques

do basic research on gardening, canning, food preservation / storage.

have strong knowledge of Dom/sub sexuality, kink, and common expectations

most importantly - find your limits and your dealbreakers on what you do and do not in a partner and both sexually and dynamic-wise. Make notes. Know what you need before you start vetting.

What Doms could do to prepare for a future sub-

be fully educated on the lifestyle, Domestic discipline, Trad living, consent, freeuse, contracts, types of commitment collars, all of it

have rough outline of expectations, rules, routines, future goals for what they would and would not expect from a sub (that can be eventually tailored to your specific dynamic)

Know their preferred methods of domestic discipline to use

work on their career, securing a decent career and stability

build up all savings accounts and investments

secure a decent place to live / buy a home with the thought in mind of having a private space for discipline to be conducted

have solid formed opinions about common topics brought up during vetting and lifestyle discussions

know their kinks and sexual expectations but don’t be gross about it when presenting it

Anything you would add or subtract?

[dabilove27]

Paring: Mikey/Manjiro Sano x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.4k

Warnings: Major Character Death, Depictions of Grief and Loss, Emotional Distress, Substance Abuse Mention, Violence and Gun Violence, Hospitals and Medical Trauma, Mental Health Struggles, Romantic Angst, Mature Themes, Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Rough Sex, Aged Up Characters, Jealousy, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Handjob. Let me know if I missed anything!

The term “bereaved” refers to the state of being without a close relation or friend because of their passing. Despite the somber nature of this connection, it has consistently brought you and Manjiro Sano together since childhood.

—--

Manjiro “Mikey” Sano was a lively and captivating child, his sparkling eyes and infectious smile drawing everyone in. His laughter was magnetic, and his boundless curiosity made you eager to know more about him.

Your teacher’s calming presence that year was a rare comfort, her warmth a steady light during one of the darkest times in your life. You often wondered how different that year might have been without her gentle guidance.

Your father’s sudden death created a void you couldn’t comprehend as a child. Aneurysm—the word became a haunting refrain, paired with the sound of your mother’s nightly sobs. You would watch from the doorway, her silhouette hunched in sorrow, the weight of her grief filling the house.

At school, the loss manifested in other ways. Friends discussing their fathers or a classmate being dropped off by their dad was a constant reminder of what you no longer had. The grief was a cloud that followed you everywhere, its shadow impossible to escape.

When your teacher introduced Manjiro to you, his arrival brought an unexpected sense of relief. Though the pain lingered, his words and presence carried a quiet warmth. He connected with you in a way no one else could, his empathy and shared experiences bridging the gap of your loneliness.

From the start, you hesitated to let him in. But your teacher reassured you that you and Manjiro might share more in common than you realized. Slowly, you began to see that she was right.

Your behavior as a child was commendable, though perhaps driven by a hope you couldn’t fully articulate—that following the rules and being good might somehow bring your father back. When your teacher instructed you to sit beside the new boy, you obediently retrieved the small yellow chair and placed it next to him. He seemed almost statuesque, focused entirely on his coloring sheet. 

Manjiro, as you learned his name was, chose darker colors for his picture of a frog on a lily pad: dark blue for the water, forest green for the lily pad and frog, and black for the frog’s eyes. The contrast of his somber palette with the cheerful drawings of other children struck you as unusual, but you didn’t know what to make of it.

You hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Most kids would have greeted you cheerfully, their voices filling the air with easy chatter. But Manjiro remained absorbed in his work, the crayon gliding smoothly across the paper. The scent of wax lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of classroom activity.

After a moment of watching him, you gathered your courage. In a soft voice, you said, “Hi.”

At first, there was no response. Manjiro continued coloring, his focus unbroken. Then, after a prolonged silence, he set the black crayon aside and turned to look at you. His gaze was steady, almost unnervingly so, and for a moment, you felt completely unmoored under the intensity of his stare.

When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and rehearsed, as though he had explained this many times before. He told you about losing both his parents and moving in with his grandfather. Though his words were monotone, their weight was undeniable. 

The teacher had paired the two of you because of your shared loss, sensing you might find solace in each other. At first, you weren’t sure she was right. But as you sat together, the classroom alive with the sound of pencils scratching paper, a quiet understanding began to form between you. In his presence, the ache of your own grief felt just a little less isolating.

---

Manjiro—soon to be Mikey, as he later insisted you call him—connected with you in a way no one else could. His directness, though startling at first, broke through the initial discomfort. After only a short while, he handed you a coloring page and a small pile of crayons. It was a simple gesture, but it said more than words could.

From that moment, a bond began to grow. You spent countless afternoons together, coloring pictures of frogs, kittens, and anything else that caught your attention. Grief was an unspoken thread connecting you, and together, you started to stitch a semblance of comfort.

As you grew older, your relationship deepened. By the time you were in elementary school, it was clear that you had become Mikey’s anchor, the person who kept him grounded when his mischievous streak threatened to get out of hand. He, in turn, became your protector, fiercely loyal and quick to defend you from anyone who dared to hurt your feelings—or worse, mention your father. 

When Emma joined Mikey’s family, everything changed. He insisted on being called Mikey rather than Manjiro, though he never minded when you used his given name. It felt special, being someone who could call him that. Being around his family made you feel like you belonged to something greater, more whole. Mikey introduced you to his grandfather, a man whose stern demeanor masked a deep care for his grandchildren. Then there was Shinichiro—Shin, as everyone called him—the older brother you couldn’t help but admire, much to Mikey’s embarrassment.

“Shin’s not that great,” Mikey would mutter whenever you mentioned your admiration. But you could see how much he loved his brother, even if he hated admitting it.

Finally, there was Emma, Mikey’s little sister from America. Her bright energy and devotion to Mikey brought a warmth to their family that you couldn’t help but adore. Watching her chase Mikey around the house always made you smile, and it wasn’t long before she adopted you as her own “big sister.”

Being part of Mikey’s family gave you a sense of belonging you hadn’t felt since losing your father. It was a home away from home, filled with laughter, arguments, and moments that felt like they might stretch forever. 

---

Through these years, you and Mikey became inseparable. Your shared history of loss was the foundation of your bond, but it grew into something so much more. Mikey’s loyalty was fierce and unyielding, and his protective nature extended to anyone who dared cross you. You, on the other hand, tempered his impulsive tendencies, becoming the voice of reason he sometimes didn’t know he needed.

Together, you navigated the ups and downs of growing up. And as you entered your teenage years, you couldn’t help but feel like Mikey wasn’t just your closest friend—he was your family. 

You failed to notice the clear signs of admiration Mikey had for you. Every embrace, every intimidating glare he directed at a bully, and every heartwarming moment—things you had chalked up to friendship—were quietly steeped in something more. Mikey, for all his confidence and bravado, never found the words to express what he felt, so he showed it through actions instead. 

As the years passed and the two of you matured, Mikey began picking fights more often, much to your dismay. He was stubborn and driven, a combination that was both admirable and infuriating. When Mikey mentioned Shin’s involvement in the Black Dragons, you knew he was unstoppable. He idolized Shinichiro, and you could see that same need to lead and protect reflected in Mikey’s own ambitions.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Mikey met Draken. From the moment they crossed paths, Draken’s calm but intense demeanor left an impression—not just on Mikey but on you as well. His piercing gaze was enough to send a chill down your spine, but there was something reassuring about him, too. He had a presence that commanded respect and steadiness that balanced Mikey’s impulsive nature. 

Draken quickly became Mikey’s closest confidant and, by extension, a significant part of your life. While Mikey was quick to act, Draken was the one who kept him grounded, offering advice with a level-headedness that even you sometimes struggled to provide. Over time, you came to trust Draken just as much as Mikey did.

Things escalated rapidly after that. Draken, Baji, Mitsuya, Kazutora, and Hayashida became a tight-knit group, and it wasn’t long before Toman—the Tokyo Manji Gang—was formed. Each member brought something unique to the table. Baji, with his fierce loyalty and fiery temper, was a force to be reckoned with. Though he was quick to anger, he had an unshakable bond with Mikey, a brotherhood that ran deeper than words.

Mitsuya, on the other hand, was calm in the storm. Artistic, empathetic, and mature beyond his years, he was the glue that often held the group together. His quiet wisdom and natural leadership made him a steadying influence, and his ability to mediate conflicts was invaluable.

Kazutora was a more complicated presence. His intensity and unpredictable nature made him both a vital ally and a potential risk. He carried his own burdens of grief and trauma, which often mirrored Mikey’s, but those same struggles sometimes led him down darker paths. 

Hayashida, or "Pah-chin," as everyone called him, brought a sense of humor and lightness to the group. He was rough around the edges but fiercely loyal, always ready to jump into a fight if it meant protecting his friends. His straightforward nature often clashed with Baji’s intensity, but their banter was one of the things that made the group dynamic feel so alive.

Despite the tight bonds Mikey formed with his new friends, he never let them overshadow you. He was fiercely protective of you, insisting that everyone in Toman knew exactly where you stood in his life. When you met Hayashida for the first time, Mikey’s introduction was as blunt as ever: “This is my best friend. Mess with her, and you’ll regret it.”

The others quickly fell in line, though that didn’t stop them from teasing Mikey about how obvious his feelings for you were. After a few months, even Draken pulled you aside to quietly tell you, “You know Mikey’s got it bad for you, right?” His tone was equal parts amused and sincere, and though it embarrassed you at the time, it planted a seed of curiosity in your mind.

You unknowingly let Mikey step into the role of your protector, not realizing that for him, it was as much about control as it was about care. His genuine feelings for you were only part of the equation. Losing his parents had left a void in Mikey’s heart that he was desperate to fill. His desire to create Toman, to lead and protect others, stemmed in part from a fear of losing the people he loved—a fear you came to understand all too well. Grief had left an unhealable wound in both your hearts, binding you together in ways you didn’t yet fully grasp.

Each member of Toman played a role in shaping the world around you, but it was Mikey who remained the center of your orbit. And as the bonds between you all grew stronger, so too did the realization that this wasn’t just a group of friends—it was a family forged in the fires of hardship and resilience.

Mikey created Toman, and for a while, everything seemed perfect. The chaos of kids laughing, running around, and causing trouble became your new normal. Late-night meetings were filled with camaraderie and jokes that left everyone in fits of laughter. You cherished the slow rides on Mikey’s bike, the cool wind rushing past as the city lights blurred around you. In those moments, it felt like the world was yours, like nothing could touch the happiness you’d found by his side. Being part of this world he had built, a family forged in loyalty, truly filled your soul.

Toman wasn’t just a gang; it was a sanctuary for its members—a place where everyone felt seen, protected, and, most importantly, connected. Baji’s boisterous laughter, Mitsuya’s quiet wisdom, Draken’s steady presence, and Mikey’s contagious energy created a balance that made you believe you’d all found something rare: joy in a world that could be cruel.

One night, after an especially chaotic meeting, Mikey convinced you to hop on his bike for a spontaneous ride. The streets were empty, bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, and the world felt peaceful. “Let’s go somewhere special,” he’d said, his voice carrying a playful lilt. You didn’t ask where, trusting him completely.

He took you to a quiet hill overlooking the city, a spot he claimed as his own. As you sat together, the sprawling view of Tokyo’s lights reflected in his eyes, he leaned back and sighed contentedly. “This is what it’s all about,” he said. “Having people who matter. A place where you belong.”

You turned to him, your chest tightening with warmth. “You’ve built something incredible, Mikey. You should be proud.”

He smiled—a rare, genuine smile that lit up his face. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was moments like this that reminded you why you stayed. Despite the chaos, despite the risks, there was something unshakably good at the heart of Toman. It was a source of hope for you, a reminder that even in a world filled with loss, happiness could still be found.

---

But grief, as you’d learned, never truly stays buried.

For a time, Mikey’s small group seemed invincible, united against the world. But then the unthinkable happened, and grief reared its ugly head once again. 

You had learned to manage the pain of losing your father—barely. His aneurysm was a faceless enemy, an unchangeable fact that allowed you to direct your emotions toward healing rather than blame. It didn’t make it easy, but it made it possible. 

When Shinichiro was killed, that possibility vanished. This wasn’t an accident or an illness. Someone had deliberately taken his life. The loss was sharper, the anger more consuming, and the wound it left felt irreparable. 

The morning it happened began with chaos. The blaring sirens of emergency vehicles disrupted the quiet dawn, their urgency cutting through the stillness like a blade. You followed your mother onto the porch, the flashing red lights reflecting off nearby buildings. A crowd had already begun to gather, their whispers rising like a wave of unease.

You didn’t think—you just moved. Still in your sleepwear, you pushed through the growing crowd, ignoring your mother’s frantic calls. Please let everyone be okay, you repeated in your mind, a desperate plea to the universe. 

Your heart sank when you saw Mikey standing across the police tape. His dark, wide eyes met yours, filled with a dread that mirrored your own. Relief that he was physically unharmed was fleeting, overtaken by the crushing realization that something was terribly wrong.

The sight of not just an ambulance, but a police car parked nearby, sent a cold shiver down your spine. Shinichiro wasn’t there—he should have been. Your stomach churned as the whispers around you grew louder, fragmented pieces of the truth reaching your ears: “...a fight…a robbery…Shinichiro…”

It wasn’t until you saw the black body bag being wheeled out that the truth hit you like a sledgehammer. Shinichiro was gone.

---

In the days that followed, the grief was suffocating. Mikey withdrew, retreating into himself in a way you hadn’t seen before. The Toman meetings were somber, the usual laughter replaced by an oppressive silence. But even in the depths of sorrow, there were small moments of light—moments that reminded you all why you fought so hard to hold onto each other.

One evening, the group gathered at the Toman hideout. Draken, ever the steady presence, organized a quiet remembrance for Shinichiro. Everyone shared stories about him, their laughter mingling with tears as they reminisced about his kindness, his patience, and his unwavering belief in all of you.

When it was Mikey’s turn to speak, his voice trembled, but his words carried a fierce determination. “Shin always said we should protect what matters most,” he said, his eyes scanning the room. “That’s what Toman is about. That’s what we are about. I won’t let his dream die with him.”

As the group nodded in agreement, you saw a flicker of hope in Mikey’s eyes—a reminder that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you could still find strength in each other. It wasn’t easy, and it never would be, but together, you could keep moving forward.

Mikey’s piercing screams cut through the murmurs, shattering the fragile quiet and dragging your attention back to him. The sound was raw and visceral, slicing through the chaos around you. It froze you in place, your mind spiraling as the weight of the moment began to settle in.

Everything blurred after that.

Your mother found you moments later, her hands on your shoulders as she gently guided you away from the scene. “Come home,” she urged, her voice strained with worry. “You’ll see Mikey later.” But her words barely registered. All you could think about was Shinichiro—how you hadn’t seen him, hadn’t been able to confirm for yourself that he was okay.

Then you saw it—the black body bag being wheeled out. It moved with an unnerving calm, indifferent to the devastation it carried within. Time seemed to stop as the reality hit you, sharp and unforgiving. A piece of your world had been stolen, just like that.

People say grief has a sound—a raw, uncontrollable cry that erupts from the depths of your soul. You heard it that day, and it took you a moment to realize it was your own. Tears blurred your vision as the weight of it all pressed down on you, numbing your body but igniting something unbearable in your chest.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Back home, your mom tried to comfort you, putting on your favorite show and sitting beside you in silence. But the screen was just a blur of colors and sounds, unable to distract you. You couldn’t eat or speak. Your thoughts were consumed by Mikey—how he was holding up, who was taking care of him, whether he was even safe.

You wanted to check on him, but the words wouldn’t come. You didn’t know how to reach out. The silence between you felt like an insurmountable chasm. And then, as if the universe heard your unspoken plea, there was a soft knock at the door.

You raced to answer it, your heart pounding. The moment you saw him, everything else faded. Mikey stood there, his head low, his eyes red and vacant. He looked like a shadow of himself, completely drained of the light and energy that usually defined him.

Without a word, you pulled him inside, guiding him to the couch. His movements were slow, almost mechanical, as though it took all his strength just to follow. You draped your gray blanket over his shoulders, trying to shield him from a world that had been so cruel. But Mikey, always needing more, tugged you closer until you were sharing the blanket, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

The hours passed in silence. The TV played quietly in the background, colorful cartoons offering a pale imitation of the joy you both desperately needed. Yet even in the depths of your shared grief, there was solace in being together. The pain didn’t go away—it never does—but in that moment, you weren’t alone.

Mikey rested his head against your shoulder, and for the first time all day, you felt the slightest relief. The world outside still burned, but here, wrapped in the warmth of your bond, you found a fragile piece of comfort.

---

Shinichiro’s death changed Mikey in ways you couldn’t have anticipated. While he still fell asleep right after eating—something that always reminded you of his boyish charm—the light in his eyes had dimmed. It was during Toman’s night rides that the shift in him was most apparent. He seemed more distant, his usual spark replaced by a quiet intensity that was hard to ignore.

You often joined him on these rides, sitting silently on the back of his bike. The hum of the engine beneath you and the stars above were the only sounds as he navigated the city streets. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and in those moments, he let his guard down, simply existing. It felt like you were sharing a secret—a vulnerability he showed only to you.

Despite the heaviness that surrounded Mikey, there were still glimmers of joy. Baji’s wild antics and Mitsuya’s quiet jokes helped lighten the mood during Toman meetings, while Draken’s steadfast presence anchored everyone. Hayashida’s blunt humor and Emma’s infectious laughter brought warmth that reminded you all why you were still fighting to hold onto each other. Those moments of levity, though fleeting, felt like lifelines.

Somewhere along the way, you realized you were falling in love with Mikey. The boy who had grown up with you, who understood your pain like no one else, had become the person you thought about most. You cherished the silly faces he made when he caught you staring too long, or the way he grabbed your hand to drag you toward something he wanted to show you. These small moments—fleeting and precious—felt like gold, brighter than anything else in your life.

But with love came fear. You had already lost so much, and the thought of losing Mikey terrified you. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling this way, no matter how much you tried. It was like an invisible red string tied the two of you together—unbreakable, unyielding, and terrifying in its permanence.

The fear wasn’t yours alone. Mikey carried it too, though he didn’t say it outright. You saw it in the way he clung to you during the hardest moments, his voice steady but laced with something deeper whenever he said, “You’re my best friend.” That connection—the shared grief, the unspoken love, and the mutual fear—kept you tethered to each other, even as the world around you continued to test your resilience.

---

The rest of high school passed in a blur of Toman meetings, late-night rides, and fleeting smiles. Baji became more reckless, his loyalty to Mikey unwavering, though it worried you. Mitsuya balanced his time between Toman and his family, his quiet strength a steadying force for everyone. Draken remained Mikey’s right hand, his calm demeanor and unwavering loyalty keeping the group grounded. Each of them played their part in shaping the group into something more than just a gang—it was a family. 

But anyone who looked closely could see the emptiness in your eyes and Mikey’s. It was as if the grief of losing Shinichiro lingered in the background, an ever-present reminder of what you had all endured.

---

After graduation, Mikey’s dream of creating an “age of delinquents” took center stage. He wanted Toman to become more than a gang—a force that could protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. His conviction was unshakable, and you believed in him. Despite everything, Mikey had a way of inspiring hope in those around him, even when he struggled to find it within himself.

One evening, after a particularly chaotic Toman meeting, Mikey pulled you aside. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The group’s laughter echoed in the background as Mikey gestured toward them.

“What do you think?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You followed his gaze, taking in the scene. “I think you’ve built something incredible,” you said, meaning every word. “You should be proud.”

He smiled—a small, rare smile that made your chest ache with affection. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

His words lingered in your mind long after the conversation ended. Despite the shadows of grief that loomed over both of you, moments like this reminded you that hope and love could coexist with loss. Mikey’s determination to create something meaningful gave you both a reason to keep moving forward.

---

While Mikey focused on growing Toman, you decided to pursue your education. He had tried to convince you to handle Toman’s finances, but you insisted on properly learning the skills first. Enrolling in the local university felt like a leap into the unknown. The campus, with its bustling students and grand buildings, was both intimidating and exciting.

On your first day, you arrived early and found a seat near the front of the lecture hall. The room gradually filled with students, some glued to their phones, others typing away on laptops. You pretended to be busy, arranging your supplies, when a tall brunette burst into the room. Her disheveled hair and hurried movements drew a few amused glances as she scanned for a seat. Much to your dismay, she chose the one beside you.

“Hi! I’m Reo!” she chirped, her voice carrying across the room. “Ready for this? I hear it’s brutal.”

You forced a polite smile, inwardly cringing at her energy. You hoped she wouldn’t talk through the whole class, but Reo’s enthusiasm was relentless. By the time the professor began the lecture, you realized there was no stopping her.

When the class required partners to share facts about each other, Reo turned to you with an eager grin. Her bubbly demeanor made it impossible to stay annoyed, and as she rattled off details about her love for biking marathons, her homemade garden, and her Chihuahua, Pika, you found yourself smiling despite yourself.

By the end of class, Reo asked for your number. You hesitated but gave it to her. You hadn’t expected to make a friend, but there was something infectious about her energy. Unlike Mikey and the Toman boys, whose camaraderie was rooted in shared struggles, Reo brought a lighthearted warmth into your life.

---

Over the summer, you and Reo grew closer. She dragged you along on bike rides and introduced you to her garden projects. You shared late-night study sessions and laughed about her quirky sense of humor. Mikey noticed the change almost immediately. While he teased you about “ditching” him, there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—worry.

“Reo’s nice,” he said one afternoon, his tone casual but his gaze searching. “Just don’t forget who your real best friend is.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing off his comment, but you couldn’t ignore the tension it hinted at. Despite his occasional jealousy, Mikey seemed happy to see you smiling. After everything you’d both been through, he valued anything that brought you joy.

Balancing your time between Mikey and Reo became your new normal. Mikey still took you on late-night rides and shared quiet moments, while Reo brought spontaneity and adventure. For a time, it felt like you had the best of both worlds.

But as the new school year approached, the delicate balance began to waver. Reo, ever the whirlwind of energy, started pulling you into plans that Mikey wasn’t a part of. And while Mikey tried to hide his frustration, the tension between the two sides of your life began to build.

---

One crisp autumn evening, Mikey confronted you after a Toman meeting. The air was heavy with unsaid words as he leaned against his bike, his expression unreadable.

“You’ve been busy lately,” he said, his voice light but tinged with something deeper.

“Yeah,” you replied cautiously. “School’s been hectic.”

“It’s not just school,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “It’s her.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Reo’s my friend, Mikey. She’s… different. She’s good for me.”

“And what about me?” he asked, his voice soft but pointed. “Am I still good for you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You took a step closer, reaching for his hand. “You’ll always be good for me, Mikey. You’re my home.”

His grip tightened around yours, and for a moment, the tension eased. But as the months went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the balance between Mikey and Reo was fragile, as if one wrong move could send everything crashing down.

---

As the new school year began, something felt off. Reo, always so lively and punctual, stopped responding to your texts and calls. She didn’t show up to class for days. At first, you told yourself it was nothing—maybe she was sick or needed a break. But the gnawing feeling in your chest refused to go away, whispering that something was very wrong.

One Thursday morning, as you skimmed through your emails, a subject line froze you in place: “In Memoriam: Reo Sato.”

Your heart dropped. You reread the line, willing it to change, but the words stayed the same. Hands trembling, you opened the email, scanning its sparse contents. There were no details—just a note about a candlelight vigil planned for Saturday. Desperate for answers, you searched her name online, the keys clicking furiously under your fingers.

The first result was from a local funeral home. You clicked it, and there she was: Reo, her graduation photo smiling back at you. The image didn’t match the headline beneath it, the one that shattered your world: “Reo’s life was tragically taken in a homicide.”

The word homicide echoed in your head. It didn’t make sense. Reo had been so vibrant, so full of life. How could she be gone? Numbly, you kept searching until you found a news article.

The headline read: “Local Student Killed in Drug Deal Gone Wrong.”

Your breath hitched as the article unfolded a version of Reo you didn’t recognize. Shot during an altercation involving heroin, the words blurred before you, each one cutting deeper. How did I not know? You replayed every conversation with her, every moment shared. She had never shown any sign of this struggle—no cracks in the bright, bubbly persona you had known so well.

Guilt twisted in your chest. I should have noticed. I should have been there for her. The thought sent you spiraling, your breaths coming fast and shallow. You grabbed your phone and sent a text, your only lifeline in moments like this.

You: Hey, can you come over? I need you ASAP.

Mikey: Omw. You okay?

You: No… I just… I need you.

Mikey: 5 minutes.

True to his word, there was a knock at your door minutes later. You barely managed to croak out, “Come in,” before the dam broke. Mikey stepped into the room, his messy blonde hair and worried eyes meeting your tear-streaked face. Without hesitation, he sat beside you on the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You clung to him, sobbing into his shoulder. Mikey didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. His quiet presence was enough, grounding you as the storm of emotions overwhelmed you. For what felt like hours, the two of you sat like that, his steady breathing a silent comfort.

When your tears finally subsided, you told him everything: the email, the obituary, the article. The words spilled out in a rush, heavy with guilt and sorrow. Mikey listened intently, his dark eyes never leaving yours, his hand squeezing yours in silent reassurance.

When you finished, he pulled you into another hug. “You cared about her,” he said softly. “You were there for her in ways that mattered. Don’t forget that.”

His words didn’t erase the pain, but they brought a glimmer of comfort. “Will you come to the vigil with me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” he replied immediately. “I’ll do anything for you.”

---

The vigil was held on a chilly Saturday evening. Dozens of candles illuminated the gathering crowd, their soft glow a fragile beacon in the darkness. Mikey stayed close to you, his hand lightly resting on your back as you navigated the sea of mourners.

When it was your turn to speak, your legs felt like lead as you approached the microphone. Mikey’s presence behind you gave you the courage to begin. “Reo was one of the brightest people I’ve ever known,” you said, your voice trembling but steady. “She had a way of making everything feel lighter, even when things were hard. I didn’t know… I didn’t know she was struggling. But I’ll always remember the light she brought into my life.”

As you stepped back, Mikey was there to steady you, his hand firm on your shoulder. His quiet strength gave you the stability you needed as the vigil continued, each story shared a reminder of the impact Reo had left behind.

---

In the weeks that followed, the weight of Reo’s loss lingered, but Mikey never left your side. He was there when you broke down during late-night study sessions, when you couldn’t bring yourself to sit in the seat she used to occupy in class. And though he wasn’t the type to offer flowery words, his presence was constant and unwavering.

Through it all, you found yourself leaning on him more than ever. He didn’t shy away from your grief or try to fix it—he simply stayed, a reminder that you weren’t alone. And in moments of quiet laughter or shared silence, you began to heal, piece by fragile piece.

---

The days leading up to the vigil passed in a haze. You moved through school and daily routines, but your thoughts were constantly with Reo. Her laughter, her boundless energy, and the way she lit up a room felt painfully distant—like a dream slipping further out of reach. When Saturday arrived, the weight of her loss pressed down on you all over again.

Mikey picked you up that evening. He didn’t say much during the ride, but his quiet presence was enough. The steady hum of his bike and the cool night air gave you something to focus on as your emotions swirled. When you reached the vigil, the flickering glow of candles lit up the crowd, their soft light casting gentle shadows against the somber faces gathered there.

You clung to Mikey’s arm as you wove through the crowd, your fingers trembling against the fabric of his jacket. He squeezed your hand lightly, his silent reassurance grounding you. Near the front, you found a spot where a framed photo of Reo stood on an easel, surrounded by flowers and candles. The sight made your throat tighten, fresh tears pricking your eyes.

The vigil began with Reo’s family speaking. Her parents’ voices were heavy with grief as they shared memories of her love for life, her quirky sense of humor, and her bright future that had been tragically cut short. Their words cracked under the weight of their sorrow, and tears streamed down your face as you listened. Mikey stayed by your side, his hand resting gently on your back, steadying you when the emotions became too much.

When attendees were invited to share memories, you hesitated. Public speaking had never been easy for you, and the lump in your throat felt insurmountable. But as others stepped forward, recounting Reo’s impact on their lives, you felt the need to honor her—to let her family know how much she meant to you.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. Mikey’s hand brushed your arm as you moved, his silent support giving you the strength to keep going. At the microphone, the crowd blurred into a sea of flickering lights as you spoke.

“Reo was… amazing,” you began, your voice trembling. “She made everyone feel like they mattered. She was funny, bright, and so full of life. I didn’t know her as long as some of you, but in the time I did, she became someone I couldn’t imagine being without.” Your voice wavered, and you swallowed hard before continuing. “I wish I could have done more, been there for her more. But I’ll always remember her light, and I’ll carry it with me.”

You stepped back, your heart pounding in your chest. Mikey was there immediately, guiding you to your spot with a steady hand on your shoulder. He didn’t speak, but his presence was enough to calm the storm in your mind.

The vigil continued, the quiet hum of shared grief filling the air. Stories of Reo’s kindness and humor painted a vivid picture of the person she had been, each memory a testament to the love she’d left behind. As the candles burned low, you and Mikey lingered, watching the soft flames flicker against the encroaching darkness.

“She would have been so proud of you,” Mikey said softly as you walked back to his bike. His words were simple, but they warmed you, even against the chill of the night.

As you climbed onto the bike and wrapped your arms around him, the ache in your chest didn’t disappear, but it eased. You had Mikey, and for now, that was enough.

---

The months after Reo’s death felt surreal. Life moved on around you, but you were stuck, trapped beneath the weight of your grief. Classes resumed, conversations shifted to new topics, and Reo’s name rarely came up. Yet her absence was impossible to ignore. Her seat in the lecture hall remained empty, a glaring reminder of what had been lost.

When the news came that her murderer had been sentenced to life in prison, you thought it might bring some closure. It didn’t. The pain lingered, sharp and relentless, refusing to fade.

The only person who seemed to understand was Mikey. He was there for you during your darkest moments, holding you when the tears wouldn’t stop or quietly listening as you vented about the frustration of being paired with a new partner for group projects. His steady presence became your anchor. He didn’t try to fix your pain or force you to move on—he just stayed, and that was enough.

But every moment you spent with Mikey deepened your feelings for him. And with that came fear. You had already lost so much—your father, Shinichiro, and now Reo. What if you lost him too? The thought terrified you, creeping into your mind during quiet moments and filling you with dread. You tried to push it away, to focus on the here and now, but it was always there, lurking in the background.

Despite your grief, there were moments of light. Mikey, as always, had a way of breaking through the darkness. One evening, after a particularly rough day, he showed up at your door unannounced, holding two cups of your favorite tea.

“You looked like you needed this,” he said with a small smile, handing you a cup.

The two of you sat together on your couch, the warm tea soothing your nerves as Mikey recounted a ridiculous story about one of Toman’s newest recruits. His exaggerated impressions of Draken’s disapproval had you laughing until your sides hurt. It was the first time in weeks you felt something other than sorrow, and the memory of it stayed with you long after he left.

But as always, life had other plans.

One crisp autumn evening, you got a call from Mitsuya. His voice was frantic, the usual calm gone. “It’s Draken,” he said, the words tumbling out too fast. “He’s been shot. He’s in surgery now, but it’s bad. You need to come.”

Your heart dropped, panic taking over as you raced to the hospital. The sterile, fluorescent-lit waiting room was a flurry of anxious faces and quiet murmurs when you arrived. Mikey was sitting in a corner, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

You rushed to his side, placing a hand on his back. “Mikey,” you said softly.

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of fear and anger. “They said… they said it doesn’t look good,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you sat beside him, wrapping your arms around him as he leaned into you. The minutes dragged into hours, the tension in the room suffocating. When the doctor finally came out, his expression confirmed your worst fears.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “We did everything we could.”

The room erupted into chaos. Mikey stood abruptly, knocking over a chair as he stormed out of the waiting area. You followed him, finding him in a deserted hallway, his fists clenched and his body shaking.

“Mikey,” you called gently, but he didn’t respond. When you reached him, you placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

He turned to you then, his face crumpling as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I can’t lose anyone else,” he choked out, his voice raw with pain. “I can’t.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, holding him as he cried. “I know,” you whispered. “I know.”

---

When you think of Draken, the word that comes to mind is solid. He was tall, dependable, and seemed indestructible. No matter how many fights he got into, he always walked away, stronger and more determined. It felt like nothing could ever take him down.

Until something did.

The call came late one night, jolting you awake. Your phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand, its vibrations piercing the quiet. Groggily, you answered, Mitsuya’s panicked voice cutting through your haze.

“Draken… he’s gone. He got shot… lost too much blood.” His voice cracked, each word heavy with devastation. In the background, the bustling chaos of the hospital spilled through the line.

Your world tilted. No. Not Draken. The air seemed to disappear from the room as Mitsuya’s words echoed in your mind. He told you Mikey was at the hospital and needed you. That was all it took for you to bolt into action. You grabbed the closest clothes and raced out of the house, ignoring your mother’s worried questions as you ran into the night.

The hospital loomed ahead, its fluorescent lights cold and unfeeling against the darkness. Inside, the waiting room was a somber storm of murmurs, stifled sobs, and tear-streaked faces. Members of Toman were scattered throughout the room, slumped in chairs or pacing anxiously. You scanned the faces, your heart pounding, until your eyes landed on Mikey.

He sat in a corner chair, hunched forward with his head bowed, staring blankly at the linoleum floor. Mitsuya stood nearby, his usual composure cracked, his eyes rimmed with red as he glanced helplessly at Mikey. No one dared approach him, the weight of his grief radiating outward like a barrier.

You didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the others, you crossed the room and sat down next to him. The chair squeaked softly under your weight, but Mikey didn’t react. You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, hoping to pull him back from wherever his mind had gone.

“Mikey,” you said softly, your voice shaking.

It took a moment, but slowly, he turned his head toward you. His eyes were dark, hollow, and filled with an emptiness that made your chest ache.

“You’re here,” he muttered, his voice raw, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours.

“I’m here,” you whispered, leaning closer. For a moment, it seemed like he might respond, but his breath hitched, and the words caught in his throat. His body trembled, and then he broke, silent sobs wracking his frame. Without a second thought, you pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as his grief poured out in waves.

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, shielding him from the world with your embrace. The sounds of the waiting room faded into the background, leaving only the weight of Mikey’s pain and your unwavering presence.

When he finally pulled back, his face was streaked with tears, his expression raw and vulnerable in a way you’d rarely seen. “Do you want to come to my house?” you asked gently, your voice barely audible.

Mikey nodded, his voice too broken to respond. You stood and helped him to his feet, guiding him out of the hospital. The eyes of the others followed you, their silent concern palpable, but you ignored them. Mikey needed space, somewhere safe where he could fall apart without judgment.

---

Back at your house, Mikey didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. The two of you curled up on your bed, just like so many times before. His head rested against your shoulder, his soft breathing the only sound in the room. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was a fragile solace, one that both of you clung to as the weight of loss pressed down.

The days that followed were some of the hardest you’d ever faced. Mikey shut down completely, retreating into himself in a way you hadn’t seen since Shinichiro’s death. He stopped eating, stopped riding, stopped being Mikey. He was there, but he wasn’t living.

You tried everything to bring him back. You took him to his favorite restaurants, bought him parfaits, and suggested rides around the city. Most days, he refused to leave the house. When he did, the outings felt hollow—he barely touched his food or acknowledged your efforts. Each failed attempt chipped away at your resolve, but you refused to give up on him.

One cold winter morning, you bundled up and made your way to the Sano dojo. The house felt eerily quiet. Emma and their grandfather weren’t home, and the absence of their usual energy only heightened the oppressive weight of grief lingering in the air.

You slipped off your shoes and padded down the hall, each step heavy with apprehension. When you reached Mikey’s door, you knocked softly. “Mikey?” you called, pressing your forehead against the wood. No response.

Anxiety churned in your gut as you pushed the door open. The room was dark, the curtains drawn tight. For a moment, you couldn’t see him. Then your eyes adjusted, and you spotted him lying on his side in bed, facing the wall. He didn’t stir as you stepped inside.

“Scooch over,” you said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m getting in.”

Mikey let out a faint grunt but shifted just enough to give you space. You climbed into bed, slipping under the covers and pressing yourself against his back. Wrapping your arm around his waist, you held him close. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t acknowledge you either.

“I’m worried about you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness, he said, “I just want to feel something again. Anything.”

Your heart broke all over again. Tightening your hold, you rested your forehead against his shoulder. “I know,” you said softly. “But you’re not alone, Mikey. You’ll never be alone.”

For a moment, his breathing hitched. Then he turned to face you, his dark eyes meeting yours. They were glassy, heavy with sorrow, but somewhere in their depths was a flicker of something else—something familiar.

“Why are you always here?” he asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion but also curiosity.

You smiled, the warmth of it softening the edges of your own grief. “Because I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

A small, fragile smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to remind you of the boy you’d grown up with. Enough to give you hope.

---

Over the weeks that followed, you stayed close to Mikey, doing everything you could to pull him out of the darkness. It wasn’t easy. Some days, it felt like you were making progress—he’d smile, crack a joke, or eat more than a few bites of food. Other days, the weight of his grief dragged him back under, and you’d find yourself sitting in silence with him, holding his hand as he retreated into his own mind.

You learned to be patient. Mikey didn’t need someone to fix him—he needed someone to be there, to remind him he wasn’t alone. And while it hurt to watch him struggle, you refused to give up on him. He had always been there for you, through every moment of your own pain, and now it was your turn to do the same.

But grief has a way of testing even the strongest bonds.

One night, Mikey showed up at your door unannounced. His eyes were dark, his expression tense, and he radiated an energy you couldn’t quite place. He didn’t say much as you let him in, just muttered a quiet thanks before sitting on the edge of your couch, his hands gripping his knees tightly.

“Are you okay?” you asked, sitting beside him. 

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I don’t know how to keep going.”

You placed a hand on his arm, your touch gentle but firm. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” you said softly. “One day at a time, Mikey. That’s all anyone can do.”

He looked at you then, his dark eyes searching yours. “What if I mess everything up?” he asked, his voice cracking. “What if I lose everyone?”

“You won’t,” you said firmly. “You’re not alone, Mikey. You have me. You’ll always have me.”

Something in your words seemed to reach him. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your shoulder, and you felt his body tremble as he let out a shaky breath. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could, as if your embrace alone could shield him from the weight of the world.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

---

In the months that followed, Mikey began to rebuild himself piece by piece. He started showing up to Toman meetings again, quieter than before but present. The laughter that used to fill the room wasn’t as loud, tinged now with the weight of loss, but it persisted—a testament to the bonds Mikey had built with his friends and with you.

You were there through it all: the late-night rides, the quiet moments of reflection, and the small victories that felt monumental. Mikey leaned on you in a way he never had before. At times, the weight of being his constant felt overwhelming, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

Through it all, your feelings for him grew, no matter how much you tried to suppress them. The way he relied on you, the way his eyes lingered just a moment too long—it felt like more than friendship. But fear held you back. What if you lost him? What if your love changed things irreparably? Mikey was your anchor, your constant, and you couldn’t risk ruining that.

One evening, as the two of you sat on his bike watching the sunset, Mikey broke the silence.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

You turned to him, your heart skipping at the vulnerability in his tone. “What do you mean?”

“For us,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I don’t want to lose you. But sometimes… I feel like I’m holding you back.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. “You’re not holding me back, Mikey. You’ve never held me back.”

He hesitated, his dark eyes searching yours. “What if I’m scared of losing you?”

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Then we’re both scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I’d rather be scared with you than without you.”

The silence between you was heavy, charged with unspoken words. Slowly, Mikey leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours. His breath was warm, his presence steady despite the emotions swirling between you.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“Always,” you replied, tears pricking your eyes. And in that moment, the weight of grief didn’t disappear, but it eased. Together, you had faced so much. Together, you would keep moving forward.

After that night, something shifted. There was no grand declaration, no dramatic change—just a quiet acknowledgment of what had always been there. Mikey stopped pulling away. If anything, he drew closer, his touches lingering longer, his smiles softer when they were meant for you.

You didn’t talk about it, not explicitly. But it was in the way he rested his head on your shoulder during late-night rides, in the way his gaze found yours at every Toman meeting, and in the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The connection between you wasn’t sudden—it was slow and steady, like a flame growing stronger with every passing day.

Despite his progress, Mikey still carried the weight of his grief. Some days were better than others. On good days, he was almost his old self, cracking jokes and teasing you until your sides hurt from laughter. On bad days, he retreated into silence, his gaze distant, lost in a world you couldn’t reach. But you stayed by his side through it all, a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone.

One cold evening, Mikey invited you over to the Sano dojo. Emma was out, and the quiet house felt oddly peaceful. When you arrived, Mikey greeted you with a faint smile and a steaming cup of tea, his way of taking care of you even when he struggled to care for himself.

The two of you settled in his room, a space filled with memories of your shared childhood. You sat cross-legged on his bed, sipping your tea as Mikey leaned against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the soft clink of your cups.

“I’ve been thinking,” Mikey said finally, his voice low.

You glanced at him, waiting.

“I don’t know where I’d be without you.” His words were simple but heavy, filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“You’d be fine,” you replied softly, though you didn’t fully believe it. “But I’m glad I’m here.”

He turned to look at you, his eyes reflecting something unspoken, something steady. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a bridge. And in that stillness, you realized that being there for him wasn’t a burden—it was exactly where you wanted to be.

As Mikey’s fingers roam over your shirt, he chuckles softly. The material is one of his favorites, as it fits your curves perfectly and reminds him of how your touch has affected him. He longs for a place where the two of you can stay hidden from the world’s pain and prevent it from separating you.

Mikey is feeling alone in this challenging and painful world since losing Draken. He turns to you for comfort, taking your hand and stroking his thumb across your knuckles. At that moment, he realizes how much he has always wanted you.

Mikey shifts in his bed to face you, his gaze fixed upon you. He feels like he is invading personal space. His hand slips behind your head and finds the back of your neck. You can’t tear your eyes from his; he’s staring into your soul. 

Suddenly, Mikey pulls you closer, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Mikey presses his soft lips to yours, and the action leaves you stunned until you feel the pass of his tongue over your lower lip. There had always been this underlying pull between you, and Mikey held the same feelings as you did then.  

And Mikey was going to show you just how deep these feelings were. 

As you leaned in, his lips met yours, soft and inviting, just as you had always envisioned. A gasp escaped you, and you pulled away in surprise, but he was there again, leaning forward to keep you right where he wanted you. 

As you held on to the front of his shirt, you could feel the warmth from his flushed cheeks radiating onto yours. Your body froze at this moment. Mikey smiles against your lips and gently breaks the kiss. The two of you still sit close, your heated breaths mingling together. 

“I just want to feel something again. And you’ve always been able to do that for me.” You couldn’t look away from his lips, the ghost feeling of the kiss you shared still lingering on them. He grins and leans close, mouth hovering over yours when he hints, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”   

Heat rushes to your face, your eyes drifting closed when you feel him approaching you again. 

“So, you’ve known all along.” 

As you try to express yourself, you realize you couldn’t have known because he never mentioned it. As you try to express yourself, you realize you couldn't have known because he never mentioned it. 

The situation is overwhelming, causing you to look away from him while he talks gently. “I said nothing because, to me, you’ve always been mine.” 

At this moment, he is overwhelmingly powerful, inundating your senses. He grasps your jaw with his fingers, pressing your cheeks and raising your face towards his. Your pulse is racing, practically escaping from the vein in your throat. “I have always wanted you to be just mine.” Mikey brushes his nose against yours, and his breath warms your lips. “Now that everyone has left, I want to ensure you know how much I love you.”

You feel a lump in your throat and notice him exhale when you remain silent. 

“I hope you won’t leave me either.” His lower lip grazes against yours as he murmurs, “I don’t know if I can handle you not being here.” 

You are acutely aware of his hand on your face, pulling you closer while his mouth moves away, maintaining a slight distance between you. “I’ve always loved you.” Mikey smiles softly down at you as your eyelids flutter open briefly at his confession.

Mikey’s lips crash into yours as his hands find purchase on your waist to pull you in. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him as you gasp for air. 

Mikey welcomes the spreading of your thighs as one of his hands trails to your hip and the other cups your neck. You grip the front of his t-shirt, holding him tightly and keeping him near. 

In this state, one never desires to depart.

 Mikey whispers your name softly against your lips, and suddenly, all the anxiety and stress of the day dissipate.

He lowers his mouth to the spot just below your earlobe, his voice wrapping around you as his fingers toy with the top of your shirt.

“Please never leave me.” 

Under your shirt, his hands pull the flimsy fabric off.  

As you bare your breasts to him, your breathing becomes low. You find yourself overwhelmed as you intertwine your fingers with his blonde tresses. Your thoughts seem to swirl endlessly, drawing you deeper into a vast ocean of the mind. Manjiro Sano is the only thing keeping you grounded in this world.

“I won’t leave.” 

As Mikey’s lips meet yours, you unconsciously murmur under your breath. He moves back, gazing at you with astonishment. You feel your heart racing in your chest and your face getting hot.

Mikey feels his heart racing in his chest as he processes your commitment. His gaze remains fixated on your lips as he waits with an entranced expression. He wants to soak in the words as you say them because he’s terrified it won’t happen. So many people have already left.

As you gaze into his dark eyes, you moisten your lips.

The room’s silence left him breathless.

When he kisses you, there’s a new sense of urgency that wasn’t present before. Your back presses against the soft mattress when he pushes into you; his hands slide up your thighs, fading beneath your clothing. 

Lithe fingers slip under the elastic of your panties, and naturally, you lift your hips to help him slip them off. Mikey tosses them to the floor, forgotten before you can process what’s happening.

Mikey places soft kisses down your neck and cards his fingers through your hair as goosebumps appear on your skin from the action. His fingers continue to explore you, feeling the plush skin of your soft thighs as he works them apart. You can feel the desperation in his movements as he aches for you. 

“I never want to lose you.” 

A small gasp escapes you as he pulls you to his hips, the front of his shorts pressing against your bare skin, sending electricity through you. Your fingers tangle in his hair as he sucks against your exposed throat. 

You also feel the impact of all the words he had spoken to you.

You’re having trouble catching your breath as his fingers move closer and closer to your core. 

“Stay mine, forever.” His words send fire through your skin. Mikey is desperate never to let you go. 

His lips find yours again as his thumb rubs gently against your slick folds. A gasp escapes your lips as his fingers masterly play with that bundle of nerves. You have always longed for this moment, and now that it’s finally happening, it feels too good to be true.

Mikey knows precisely how to play you. Sliding his fingers through your wet folds and slipping them inside to touch you until you can’t breathe. He does everything as if he knows exactly what you need, even as he traces your body with kisses and whispers of love and possession. 

Every touch sets your skin on fire. Mikey’s heart thumps loudly within him, as if it desires to escape its confines every time your lips release his name. 

And when you ultimately come undone, your face concealed in the crook of his neck as you call for him, he can’t help himself as three words tumble out of his lips.  

“I love you,” he confides, along with your name. Your walls constrict around his fingers as you shake beneath him. He can feel the wet droplets of your tears soaking his shirt as your breaths come short and quickly. “I’ve loved you for so long since we were kids.”   

Mikey’s name slips from your lips as your arms curl around his shoulders, and you cling to him as you come down from your high. He kisses you tenderly and holds you close, giving you time to catch your breath and recover.

Eventually, you let out a harsh breath and meet his gaze. Heat reaches your cheeks when you see his dark eyes gazing at you. 

“Manjiro,” you mumble in embarrassment and let out another little moan as he finally removes his fingers from inside of you.

Mikey looks at you with a broad, silly smile. You lightly pinch his harm as he fakes being mortally wounded, but you can’t ignore feeling his hand on your thigh. But the two of you come back together in a slow post-orgasmic kiss, utterly different from the desperation that had been so heavy in the air just moments ago. 

Mikey withdraws, observing your flushed face as you wipe away unshed tears - embarrassed by his gaze. 

You cross your arms over your chest, feeling vulnerable. Mikey’s gaze lingers on those spots for too long, making you feel like he can see through you. It’s as if he can see every part of your soul laid bare before him.

Mikey watches you as you cover yourself, pulling the covers up to protect your chest. As your hands move toward your thighs to cover them up, he watches and can’t resist reaching out his hand to gently and soothingly stop your wrist.    

With a gentle pull, he slides you down and uncovers your breasts. He kisses you passionately down your neck and chest.  

His enjoyment comes from the thought of his hands all over you, how they hold you and caress you. It pushes away all the negativity surrounding him like a dark cloud. It’s within your power to make him experience something again. 

With a grin on his face, he pays you a compliment, saying, “You are incredibly beautiful.” 

His hungry gaze fixated on you, a dark smirk playing on his lips as you nervously whisper his name. Your arms become entangled in his shirt, adding to the tension in the air. 

His gaze slowly descends your chest, eventually reaching your tummy and thighs. He briefly wets his lips with his tongue, unable to hide his desire. "You're so soft," he murmurs, his thoughts of touching you clear in his words.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your chest rises and drops, the sound of your harsh breathing filling the room. His gaze fixated on your breasts, he slid his hands towards your shoulders; the touch sending shivers down your spine. With deliberate slowness, he delicately slides off the straps of your bra, one after another. The anticipation builds as he hooks a finger into one cup, his eyes locking with yours, creating an intense connection.

“Please, let me show you.”

Your heart races as he traces a finger along your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. The intensity in his eyes ignites a fire within you. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. His touch electrifies your every nerve, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly, he pulls you into a passionate embrace, his hands exploring every inch of your body. The room fills with a symphony of moans and whispered desires. Time stands still as you surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through your veins.

With each caress, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a frenzy of desire. His lips find yours, melding in a desperate kiss that leaves you breathless. The room becomes a battlefield of tangled limbs and whispered promises.

At this moment, nothing else matters. The world outside ceases to exist as he consumes your thoughts, your body, your soul. You surrender to the raw, unbridled passion, losing yourself in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

As the intensity builds, your bodies entwine in a dance of unspoken longing. Each touch, each kiss, drives you both closer to the edge of oblivion. The air crackles with anticipation, a symphony of pleasure and desire.

At this moment, you are completely vulnerable to his every whim. But there is a power in that vulnerability, a liberation in surrendering to the depths of passion. And as he takes you to new heights, you realize that being completely exposed to him is the ultimate act of trust.

Together, you embrace the wild chaos of desire, losing yourselves in a world where only the two of you exist. And as the climax approaches, you cling on to each other, spiraling into a moment of pure bliss that will forever be etched in your memories.

And in the end, through all the grief, pain, and despair you knew you’d always have, Mikey. 

After a moment, Mikey’s voice came out in a chokehold of tears. “I can’t believe he’s really gone. It hurts so much, doesn’t it?” 

You placed a comforting hand on his bare shoulder. “Yeah, it’s unbearable. But remember, I’ll always be here for you.”

A tiny sniffle escapes Mikey, “I know, and I’m grateful for that. It’s just hard to imagine life without Draken. Without all of them.”

You give his shoulder a small squeeze, “I understand. But remember, he’ll always be with you in your memories and in your heart.” 

His voice trembles as he tries to get out the words. “I hope so. It’s just difficult to see past all this pain right now.”

Softly, you respond, “Take your time, Mikey. I’m here to listen and support you through it all.”

[diekleinesuesse]

Being in a Relationship with Sebastian Sallow: A Love Marked by Passion and Darkness

Being in a relationship with Sebastian Sallow would be a whirlwind of intensity, devotion, and moral dilemmas. His charm and wit would make him an alluring partner, but beneath his confident exterior lies a troubled soul grappling with loss, revenge, and the temptations of dark magic. Loving Sebastian means embracing both his light and his darkness, walking beside him as he navigates the fine line between hero and anti-hero.

Undeniable Chemistry and Deep Conversations

From the moment you grow close to Sebastian, there’s an undeniable spark between you. His mischievous smirk, sharp mind, and roguish charm would make him impossible to ignore. Conversations with him would never be dull whether you’re debating magical theory in the library, trading witty remarks in the common room, or discussing the future under the starlit sky in the Astronomy Tower. He would challenge you, encourage you, and make you question everything you thought you knew about magic and morality.

He wouldn’t just be a boyfriend; he would be a confidant, someone you could share your deepest thoughts with. As the relationship progresses, Sebastian would open up about his pain his desperation to save his sister, his anger at the world’s injustices, and his fears about what he might become. In return, he would want to know everything about you, from your greatest ambitions to your most hidden fears.

Fiercely Loyal and Protective

Sebastian’s devotion to those he loves is unwavering, and being in a relationship with him means having someone who will always have your back. Whether it’s standing up for you in front of classmates, helping you perfect your dueling skills, or throwing himself in harm’s way to protect you, his loyalty knows no bounds.

However, his protectiveness may sometimes verge on obsession. He sees the world in a stark contrast of allies and enemies, and if he ever perceived someone as a threat to you, he wouldn’t hesitate to act even if it meant breaking the rules or using questionable magic. You might find yourself having to remind him that not every battle needs to be fought, and not every problem can be solved with force.

The Temptation of Dark Magic

One of the biggest challenges in a relationship with Sebastian would be his growing fascination with dark magic. He sees it as a means to an end, a way to protect and heal the people he loves. His willingness to push boundaries could lead to heated arguments between you, especially if you don’t share his views.

Would you support him in his pursuit of power, or try to guide him toward a different path? The choices you make in your relationship would shape his journey, and depending on how you approach things, he might either listen to you or push you away.

Moments of Light Amidst the Darkness

Despite the struggles, there would be countless moments of happiness. Secret rendezvous in the Forbidden Forest, stolen kisses in the halls of Hogwarts, playful duels in the Undercroft Sebastian would make sure your time together was filled with adventure and excitement. His love language would likely be acts of service, always looking for ways to make your life easier, whether by sneaking you extra potion ingredients or staying up late to help you with an assignment.

On days when the weight of the world felt too heavy, he would find solace in your presence. You would be the one person who could pull him away from his obsessions, even if just for a little while. Whether it’s lying together in the grass, watching the sky shift colors, or simply enjoying the quiet of the library, these moments of peace would be a reminder that there’s more to life than revenge and dark magic.

A Love That’s Both Beautiful and Tragic

Loving Sebastian Sallow means accepting all parts of him the charm, the devotion, the stubbornness, and the darkness. Your relationship would be one of passion and challenges, of late-night whispers and tearful confrontations. There would be times when you question whether you can truly save him from himself, and other times when you feel like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

But if you choose to stand by his side, you would experience a love unlike any other. A love filled with fire and shadows, with laughter and pain, with loyalty that burns brighter than any spell. And in the end, whether you walk the path of light or darkness together, one thing is certain: Sebastian Sallow would love you with every fiber of his being, for better or for worse.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

I've got female Sole Survivor on the brain thanks to this Deegan one-shot, especially in relation to her grief at all she's lost at the beginning of the game. This may be a touch controversial.

I see a ton of female Soles (both in fan works as well as in general discussions about lore, roleplay, etc.) who are wracked with survivor's guilt in the aftermath, wrought entirely hollow by the loss of their husband and child. This is not a statement of judgement or me implying that it's a subpar creative choice; it's a very natural conclusion to draw. Losing your entire immediate family, on top of surviving multiple mass-casualty events, would naturally leave you wondering why you lived when others didn't and feeling incomplete without those dearest to you.

Personally, the first time I played Fallout 4, I immediately imagined my own Sole as a woman dealing with an immense amount of guilt for an entirely different reason: she feels relief on more levels than one.

Yes, the world ended and everyone she ever knew or really cared for is long dead. But even the horror of that realization doesn't change the fact that there is a massive weight lifted off of her shoulders when she wakes up in that Vault and realizes that she no longer has to be a wife or mother every single moment of her life. It wasn't something she pictured for herself long-term, but she hadn't realized it until it was far too late; very much the sort of person who agreed to get married and have a child before they fully considered all that it would mean (which isn't an uncommon character flaw). But, between the general state of the world at the time and her own hidden struggles, she was eager to feel like she was doing something meaningful with her life.

Nate was the same. It was one of the only things they'd had in common anymore by the time Shaun was born.

I imagine their marriage was struggling (or perhaps simply not as satisfying as either of them would have liked), and having Shaun was an ill-conceived attempt to save things, to find some sort of renewed enthusiasm or meaning. Of course, having a baby to fix your marriage (or yourself) never works. Pregnancy and labor were rough for her, but postpartum was worse; her husband continued to pull away like he had been before, just at a more agonizing rate.

Pretty immediately after the birth, she recognized she'd made a mistake, felt stupid and childish for making such a life-altering decision based on flimsy justifications. But so many people in her life (parents, in-laws, friends who were already parents themselves, society in general) swore to her that having a child would magically end all of her problems through the sheer power of maternal love that she felt selfish not "putting forth the effort" and trying. No one bothered to clarify, though, that if the old 'baby trick' doesn't fix your life, you're then stuck with an inherently needy little person whose existence you may feel indifferent towards more often than not. That realization had been in the middle of literally crushing her to death when the bombs fell.

She's slowly finding herself again as she goes through various adventures and trials in the Commonwealth, helps build community that feels more like a real family to her. Dips her toes into the dating pool eventually. It's not a straightforward process, though, and some days she feels like an uncaring monster and can't even get out of bed. Others, she functions, but with a visible cloud over her, morose and quiet. A tiny, irrational part of her may even feel that she somehow manifested the war, literally brought forth the end of the world with how ardently she begged for something, anything to take her away from what her life had become towards the end.

Her guilt is tinted with anger and shame. She still has lingering health issues from carrying to full term, and her body is changed in ways she knows she will never recover from. Fixates on the changes she notices and it breeds self-consciousness. Part of that fixation is vanity, sure, but she also knows very well that she likely shaved at least a few years off her life span by choosing to become a mother, an endeavor she wouldn't describe as "personally worthwhile" if pressed hard enough.

She also constantly beats herself up for not searching hard enough for her son, but it's unproductive. No matter how guilty she makes herself feel, she doesn't find many leads. Doesn't bring him or Nate up much, unless she's feeling especially vulnerable (or self-hating). The pity people usually express when she says she lost a spouse/child doesn't feel earned to her.

Part of her says her son is likely dead, having lived his whole life without her, and so she'd be wasting her time by dedicating every waking moment to finding him. She finds both peace and sadness in that idea. Another part of her, though, knows she's dragging her feet, pacifying herself with that thought because she doesn't truly want to find him.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello! Currently im working on my story and I need to write my character Fainting/falling unconscious and I need help with writing that. General things I would like to know is how long would someone be out cold in which situations and what are some aftermaths. You can (and please do) add extra info. I dont see alot of posts covering this topic so I would request this :>

Hi! I have these previous posts: On Fainting ⚜ Some Reactions

Some Additional Notes

Faintness

‘Light- headedness’.

Seen in anaemia, low BP, postural hypotension, hypoglycaemia, carotid sinus hypersensitivity, epilepsy

Syncope

This is sudden loss of consciousness over seconds.

Another word for fainting or passing out.

Think of abnormal ‘electrical’ activity in the central nervous system or a temporary drop in cardiac output and BP that improves as soon as the patient is in a prone position.

Fits can occur due to a profound fall in BP so they are not specific of epilepsy.

Someone is considered to have syncope if they become unconscious and go limp, then soon recover.

For most people, syncope occurs once in a great while, if ever, and is not a sign of serious illness.

However in others, syncope can be the first and only warning sign prior to an episode of sudden cardiac death.

Syncope can also lead to serious injury.

Talk to your physician if syncope happens more often.

Pre-syncope - is the feeling that you are about to faint.

Someone with pre-syncope may be:

lightheaded (dizzy) or nauseated,

have a visual "gray out" or trouble hearing,

have palpitations, or

feel weak or suddenly sweaty.

When discussing syncope with your doctor, you should note episodes of pre-syncope as well.

Becoming unconscious due to a seizure, heart attack, head injury, stroke, intoxication, blow to the head, diabetic hypoglycemia or other emergency condition is not considered syncope.

WHAT TO DO

Someone who faints should be moved so they are lying down to allow blood to flow to the brain.

If they do not regain consciousness promptly, start CPR.

Reflex syncope - the result of a reflex response to some trigger, in which the heart slows or blood vessels dilate (widen).

This causes blood pressure to drop, so less blood flows to the brain and fainting (syncope) or near-fainting (pre-syncope) occurs.

Reflex syncope is the most frequent cause of fainting.

Vasovagal syncope — the common faint — occurs in one third of the population.

It is by far the most common form of reflex syncope.

Often triggered by a combination of dehydration and upright posture.

But it can also have an emotional trigger such as seeing blood ("fainting at the sight of blood").

Some Vasovagal Syncope Triggers

Seeing blood (not considered a serious symptom)

Getting an injection or having blood drawn (not considered serious)

Standing up quickly (a "head rush" is considered pre-syncope)

Standing upright for a long time

Sudden and unexpected trauma, stress or pain, such as being hit

Blood donation

Other types of reflex syncope include:

Situational syncope - a sudden reflex response to a trigger other than those listed above. Triggers include:

Coughing, sneezing, laughing, swallowing

Pressure on the chest after exertion or exercise

Defecating

Urinating (post-micturition syncope: occurs in men while standing to urinate)

Eating a meal

Sudden abdominal pain

Blowing a brass instrument or lifting weights

Carotid Sinus Syncope - a response in older adults that occurs when pressure is applied to the carotid artery in the neck. A hard twist of the neck, wearing a tight collar and pressing on the artery are triggers for carotid sinus syncope.

How is syncope treated? The treatment for syncope will depend upon the underlying condition but may include:

Catheter ablation: procedure to cauterize the specific heart cells that cause abnormal heart rhythms

Pacemakers: device inserted under the skin below the collarbone to deliver regular electrical pulses through thin, highly durable wires attached to the heart; used to treat bradycardia, heart block and some types of heart failure

Implantable cardioverter-defibrillators (ICDs): a small implanted device that delivers an electrical pulse to the heart to reset a dangerously irregular heartbeat; often used to treat ventricular tachycardia or heart failure

Avoiding known triggers

Vasovagal Attack

Simple faint precipated by emotion, pain, fear, prolonged standing, etc.

Suggested by: syncope within seconds or minutes of preceding precipitant.

Nausea,

sweating, and

darkening of vision.

Recovery within minutes.

No incontinence.

Confirmed by: history. No abnormal physical signs.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. reassurance and advice regarding avoidance of preciptating causes.

Cough Syncope

Suggested by: sudden loss of consciousness after severe bout of coughing.

Confirmed by: history. Normal examination.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. treating cause of cough.

Panic Disorder

Suggested by: Intense feeling of apprehension or impending disaster.

Developing quickly and unexpectedly without a recognizable trigger.

Shortness of breath and

sensation of smothering, nausea, abdominal pain, depersonalization and derealization,

choking,

numbness,

tingling,

palpitations,

flushes,

trembling,

shaking, chest discomfort,

fear of dying,

sweating,

dizziness,

faintness.

Confirmed by: recognized criteria, e.g. the ICD.

Finalized by: the predictable outcome of management, e.g. reassurance about nature of symptoms, cognitive behaviour therapy, anxiolytics (e.g. diazepam), or antidepressants (e.g. SSRIs).

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ On Hemophobia

Hope this helps with your writing!

[tutanchanup]

HOW WOULD VLAD III. DRACULEA BE AS A VAMPIRE?

(look how he still has his wedding ring but it's on his right hand as - from what I learned - in medieval times you'd actually wear it like that! Also did you notice the scars on his wrists from shackles of Corvinus' prison? Eek! 😊)

This question is inevitable. Whether we like it or not, the name of Vlad Draculea has been inseparably linked to that of the literary vampire. But we can at least look at how would the real Dracula, Vlad III Țepeș, voivode of Wallachia, look like in this role.

~•~•~

So, I've decided to listen to you and give you my opinion about Vlad as a vampire (I am honoured that someone wants to hear that, thank you 🥰, I'll answer the call of my people!). It became quite long, so I broke it down to several parts:

First, we'll look what the curse of vampirism would do to a psyche of an average human, and then we compare it to Vlad, who was formed by his mediaeval upbringing (in some future post I'll also discuss that in detail, so if you're interested in that, look ahead 😄). In part 2 (in a future post), I'll look at how he would physically look like - what fashion would he use (you'll be surprised!), his physical behaviour, and what impression would his presence make upon you. And in part 3 we'll look at his personality and the reasoning behind his actions. And, if someone would be actually interested, I am willing to make part 4 where I'd tell you what depictions of Dracula in media that I've seen so far I feel are closest to this and why 😉.

Disclaimer: as I have yet to talk to Vlad Draculea myself (just kidding, I actually have him locked in my closet, bwahaha!), please note that this is all MY OPINION. Feel free to tell me to shove it up my ar*e. But since this opinion is based upon at least some reasoning, please give your reasoning as well 😉.

Should you listen to me or not? Find out here.

~°~°~

So now, when we're done with the formalities, let's finally get into the big question itself:

How would Vlad III. Draculea deal with a curse of vampirism?

Prepare your tea, as this will be long 😄

Since there are many versions of vampiric curses in media, we'll look only at the two most common aspects: immortality and the need to drink human! blood (a.k.a kill humans, no bloodbags or vegan alternatives this time)

Let's see first what would such a curse do to a psyche of a regular human.

There are several huge pressures which could lead to a gradual break down of the former self, eventually opening the possibility to become a sadistic monster (of course everyone is different and would take it differently, but let's now look at the average human).

1. The Constant Need to Kill

The curse forces the vampire to regularly take human lives, gradually normalizing killing. This loss of respect for human life would eventually lead to dehumanization and a loss of empathy.

2. Isolation and Loneliness

An immortal would always end up forever alone, without family, friends, or a true community. Even when they would talk to humans, that would painfully remind them what they've lost since they are not human themselves anymore. This isolation would lead to hopelessness and despair, slowly eroding their psyche. If there would be other vampires, then they could pact with them, but since those would be under the pressure of the curse as well, it wouldn't be a cheerful company, instead making you face every time what have you yourself become, accelerating your loss of humanity.

3. Guilt and Desperation

Every decision about life and death would carry heavy consequences. When you take life once, you can never take it back. And the more power you have, the more catastrophic are the consequences of your failures. Also everyone makes mistakes, but in an immortal life you'd eventually accumulate a huge number of them. This overwhelming weight of guilt could lead one to distance oneself from their conscience, and that could result in sadism.

But what if this curse has happened to Vlad III. Draculea,

the medieval voivode from the 15th century, who's name is irrevocably linked with vampirism thanks to that unfortunate novel of Bram's?

We have to take in mind that he already was a voivode. A role that was always destined to him thanks to his royal blood, and which he was being prepared to carry since childhood

(yes, he was not the firstborn, but given the high turnover of voivodes on the throne, there was a big chance someone would use him to make him a pretender one day anyway. When you were born with a claim to the throne in your blood, you usually became a leader, or you were murdered by those in power who were afraid that you might use that claim of yours one day. It wasn't a choice)

And here comes the big surprise, as you can see:

The role of a voivode already carried exactly the same psychological pressures as the vampiric curse!

Don't believe me? Let's have a look!

1. The Constant Need to Kill

As a voivode, you also had the role of a judge and also a war commander (voivode comes from the Slavic word voj (army) vode (leader)). So the taking of human lifes would be inevitable, even if you didn't take it by your own hands. It was your responsibility to carry out laws and reign justice. In mediaeval times, the punishment for many crimes were deadly. So you already had to cope with that responsibility that you're the one deciding over people's fate. There was really no other choice, too - if you'd decide not to implement punishments according to the law, your own people would be angry at you, as they would see you as someone not upholding the law. And if you'd be too merciful, you'd be seen as weak, which would lead to your downfall and decapitation at the hands of you rivals (no, they wouldn't let you live and become a threat one day)

2. Isolation and Loneliness

The role of a monarch is a lonely one. You're alone in your position. You're the sole leader of the nation and everyone counts on you, which means that you have access to some nice luxury, but you're also cut off from real human connection, because noone will see you as their equal (in their eyes, you're above). Yes, you might eventually be given a wife, but that's an arranged marriage. And what sense is there in falling madly in love when you never know when you'll be called into battle (where you'd be expected to lead at the front), or when will your rivals finally succeed in planting their dagger into your back? I'm not saying that you never could love, but you'd be very careful with that, since if your enemies would see that you actually love someone, they would exploit that new weakness of yours immediately. Your view on love would be the same as that of the immortal vampire - they would know that it can never last forever because their sweetheart will die. You as a monarch know that it won't last forever because YOU'll probably die.

3. Guilt and Desperation

When your every ruling decides the fate of your nation, the consequences of your failures will be massive as well - for example when you make a bad decision and that leads to an Ottoman Invasion, your country will be pillaged, your men cut into pieces, woman raped and children taken into slavery.

So as you can see, for Vlad Draculea, the pressures of vampiric curse would be nothing new. For him, it would only be the continuation of his voivodeship, only in different clothes. And he knew how to cope with them before, so he would also know how to cope with them now. Because in real life he didn't descend into becoming a sadistic monster (#don't believe mediaeval propaganda)

If you're interested in the specific coping mechanisms based in mediaeval psyche that he used to be able to fulfill his role as a voivode, I am preparing a separate post about that, and I promise you you'll be fascinated. And it actually could help you deal with modern problems as well. It certainly did help me massively 😉. I'll link the post here as well when it's done eventually.

Edit: part 1 is already done! Here are some tips useful for mental health from Vlad

This one is more on general coping mechanisms useful for dealing with excessive emotions such a role would bring. In some future part I'll also pick apart how specifically he'd have dealt with the pressure of responsibility of such a role, which is more in topic to this post.

So out of all people, it would be the famous Dracula himself, who would keep most of his humanity intact!

...which is quite ironic when you look at how in almost every traditional portrayal he's a sadistic monster. Yes, the curse could do that to a regular human. But paradoxically not to Vlad III Draculea himself.

Would Draculea descend into a self-deprecating existence, hiding away from human sight in shame like most vampires do?

I would not count on it. Not because he was a voivode, but because he was Vlad Draculea.

Look, even if he might hate what he have become (as becomming a blood sucking immortal would probably go against his christian values), if anything, Draculea has never before let anything define him as a victim.

When the ottomans tortured him as a child, he didn't become a "poor tortured boy". He used it to make himself stronger and became a warrior. And that's why the Ottomans never managed to break him, as opposed to others.

Same would happen now - he wouldn't let the curse make him into "a poor cursed monster". He would be still a "voivode who happened to be under the curse of vampirism, ah well, what can you do, at least now I've got more weapons in my arsenal, nice!"

I am not saying that perhaps he would not disagree with the course, no, I think he even might be angry that this happened to him, the same way as he was justifiably angry when the ottomans tortured him. He might even spend a long time trying to find a cure for the curse. Because he was a man who wanted to always be in control (which makes sense when you look at his childhood, where he as a prisoner had no control at all), and if he was cursed against his will, or if the curse made him do things he didn't want to do, he would try his best to get rid of it (like he tried to get rid of the ottomans).

But in the meantime he would use it as best he could for his own purpose, like he still used an ottoman kilij for fighting, even though he hated the ottomans - because they trained him with the kilij and he wasn't a hateful fool to just throw it away the moment he got free from their captivity. He was pragmatic, he knew that after years of training he will always be better at fighting with kilij than with other swords (and also in some ways the curved sabre IS better than a straight sword, as we can see that it later took over. So Draculea would see that advantage as well).

Yeah, if you want to define Vlad in one single word, it would be: "pragmatic"

He had never let himself be overwhelmed with blind hatred - look how he withdrew his men from the night attack near Târgoviște, EVEN THOUGH he was this close to killing the sultan! But he withdrew his men instead because he knew that they would suffer horrible losses if he didn't withdraw in the right time.

But I also don't mean that he would let himself go and then try to excuse his behaviour like "ah, it's okay for me to murder you all, because you see, I am a vampire, I have no other choice" IF HE ACTUALLY HAD OTHER CHOICES AVAILABLE. He'd still feel obliged to use his power responsibly, as he did when he had power as a voivode.

So, when we take into account all this, we can see that he would probably never descend into crouching in the shadows (if that wasn't a part of some strategic plan of course), trying to hide away from the world so that noone may look at him and see the monster he became.

No, he would still have his honour and pride. He would never 'talk as a low vampire'. He would always talk as a voivode. But he would use his vampiric aspects when it would suit him strategically - for example he would smile exposing his teeth when purposedly trying to scare someone (as pictured).

So the final verdict is:

Vlad would never be a vampire. Vlad would be a voivode who also happens to be a vampire.

[ghiblinsm]

cannon list

first movie:

Wade doesn't actually know anything that really happened to you in the workshop, just bits and pieces that were hinted by Francis.

“You have to live with the shitty thing you did for the rest of your life.”

you love your dad, really you do. but you will always have a bit of resentment for what he signed you up for.

"It doesn't get better, and it doesn't get easier. I can't keep lying to myself,"

during the months you were being injected fluids in your blood, Austin had kept asking his mom to call Wade and see what happened.

“Yo, this is Wade. I’m either out doing mercenary stuff, getting into trouble, or just avoiding your call. Leave a message. Beep”

Anytime Wade sees you with clothes that show your arms and legs, he always thinks about how the scars on your skin were caused by him. (not s.h scars but thunder like scars caused by other types of torture)

“Who knew that bringing my daughter to a workshop full of dangerous crap would be a bad idea? Genius move, Wade. Just chalk it up to another day of being a fantastic father.”

He's never brought it up but sometimes he notices you looking in the mirror a little longer then usual then sees you later in a new outfit of pants or leggings and a long sleeve or cardigan.

"I can't stand to look at my scars, every time I look at them, I'm reminded at what happened. How he failed to protect me and i don't want to hold that against him..."

More often then you two both like to admit, you both make a bunch of self-deprecating jokes about being a bad father/daughter.

Wade: "You know, sweetheart, I always thought I'd be a great dad… but I guess I took 'daddy issues' to a whole new level, huh? Can I put that on my résumé?"

You: "At least you made the list. I didn’t even make it onto the ‘good daughter’ list. I’m just the bonus kid with the emotional baggage. You’d think I’d be on sale by now."

second movie:

When you first met Russell you could only think about how scary it must've been for him to be surrounded by people trying to say they knew how he felt.

"You’re a mess, Russell. But I took responsibility for your actions, and I can’t just leave you."

when you were put in the ice box prison you kind of gave up, just like you father. except since you saw how much Russell was trying you decided to at least help him not get beat up.

"I’ve spent my whole life trying to do what’s best for everyone else. I forgot to take care of myself."

during the whole ordeal your heart and mind were in-between resentment and pity for your dad. he was acting like the world stopped when vanessa was shot when it didn't. you still feel bad for feeling this way.

"The only way to get through the day is to keep pushing forward, even if it feels like you’re dragging the weight of the world."

a secret you didn't even tell your dad was that when most of the x force died you giggled and sent a video to Austin.

"I'm sorry for your loss...*later* Austin i need to laugh so fricking badly but i can't because i'm with colossus. what do i do?"

Wade's a little disappointed in himself for this one but, when you all were in the ice box prison and he saw you trying to keep Russell out of shit, he thought he could leave Russell in your hands and stay out of everything, despite more prisoners getting violent.

"I want to be the person who helps people. I want to be the person who can make a difference. But I don’t know how."

Third movie

the day Wade tried to join the avengers you were chilling with Austin who was on the phone with Peter and somehow interviews came up in discussion and you heard Peter ask Austin how common alliterative names were because Happy was talking about a disrespectful guy that came in for an interview and had a 'dumb' name.

"I’m just a guy who loves a good time. Who cares about the rest?"

when nicepool led y'all to his honda, you were thinking back to peter's situation with two other spiderman and when wolverine and your dad were in the car you couldn't help but ask nicepool how his y/n was.

"You can’t change the past. You can only learn from it and hope that you don’t repeat the same mistakes."

you were friends with laura for a short while at the age of 11 and when you two met again in the void you both immediately did y'all's handshake out of instinct.

“Life is short! So we should spend it having fun and making memories!”

couldn't really think of more stuff for the third movie that would involve spoiling stuff I have planned so it was cut short.

hope y'all liked it!

"Well everyone loves me" by Rizzy105 on wattpad

[fullmoonlovestuff]

I think the last anon is really on to something. I think the problem, or the confusing thing, for a lot of people is the fact that there’s no actual real romantic rumours about him with a woman. And I mean in the way it happens for most celebs not fandom discussions. It’s such a ubiquitous part of being a celebrity that when it doesn’t happen people get confused. The fact that he hasn’t been seen romantically with a woman, specifically, since Lena makes people think that it must be because he’s gay and hiding which leads to them turning to create rumours about the men around him instead and scrutinising literally every little mannerism, rather than the real reason which is that he DOESN’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP!

It is really hard for some people to understand it seems. The reason he hasn’t been seen with a woman isn’t because he’s gay it’s because he’s not dating at all. He seems to have put any kind of relationship (with men or women) in the back of his mind and focuses instead on important platonic and familial relationships. Making good lifelong friends and spending time with the people that matter most to him right now. Maybe it’ll change someday, he did just say he wants to heal for real, but until the day we get a clear picture of him holding hands or kissing someone or even telling us himself that he’s dating someone I think it’s safe to assume he just doesn’t, since that’s what he has said many times.

There was a time when I really hoped to see Pedro on the red carpet with a partner... happy, in love, with shining eyes, smiling, hugging, maybe even a kiss. Just full-on love mode. But over time, I started listening to him more and began to understand that things like that might not happen so easily. I think, and I say this with respect, that he carries some emotional weight from the past. He’s someone who wants healing. And healing doesn’t just mean feeling better. It often means facing pain, memories, and learning to let go. Letting go is hard, though. The heart often holds on to what feels familiar. It wants safety and comfort. Stepping out of that comfort zone can hurt, because healing isn’t always easy.

I really wish more people would understand that he’s not pretending or putting on a show. He’s real. He doesn’t share everything (and he shouldn’t have to), but what he does share already shows a lot. And sometimes, I think he shares more than we realize. All the rumors and speculation don’t help. They just make things worse. He isn’t your typical Hollywood guy. No scandals. No messy relationship history. No wild drama. He comes from a background where things weren’t always easy. He’s faced a hard loss, fear and deep personal challenges... things that stay with a person for life.

He seems like someone who puts others first ...his friends, his family and maybe forgets to care for himself sometimes. He’s talked about not sleeping well. He works constantly. Maybe that’s how he copes. He’s at a point in his life where he could have anything professionally. But real healing...the kind that brings peace that takes more than success. It takes time, safety, trust.

Not everyone lives by the same rules or moves at the same pace. We all have our stories and those stories shape us. I know what I am talking about...Pedro an I have a lot in common. Watching him laugh or smile in interviews is lovely. But behind all that, there’s often a different story.. one that deserves respekt and compassion, not filthy gossip

Thank you anon, for your kind words

[ladylooch]

“After a drink refresh, Lexi disappears amongst the WAGs for a bit to get separation from Nico. She feels like she's read him wrong and that they're a bit out of touch. Not ideal with the discussions they have been having about making a baby.”

Def need more on this! How do they find some common ground? Sorry if I’m bugging you too much

Not at all, nonnie! Let's talk about it!

Nico knows he had a shit attitude, but when he walked into the party it felt like his worst nightmare. After another loss and apathetic performance by the team, the weight on his shoulders feels unsteady. Like one wrong move and the entire thing will crush him. He only agree to dinner with Timo because he was pushing so hard to get Nico out. Now, Nico sees why.

After playing darts with his sister, he looks around for his wife, wanting to steal her away for a minute to apologize more directly. Timo was right; it's not the girls' fault that the team hasn't been getting the job done on the ice. He shouldn't expect Lexi to leave a party she planned for him after being there for 45 minutes. He won't tell Timo this because he's lowkey annoyed with him still, but Timo was right to verbally slap him upside the head for thinking that was okay even for a second.

Finally, Nico locates his wife at the beverage table, getting a glass of sparkling water.

"Sweets." He murmurs as he comes behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Lexi spins and gives Nico an ultra-forced smile that makes his shoulders deflate a bit. "I'm sorry."

"Oh! No! It's okay... We... um I should have considered your feelings more. I'm actually the one who is sorry, Neeks."

"Baby, I hate that. Don't do that. Don't fall on a sword for me." He leans down to kiss her.

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do as the captain's wife?"

"Never." Nico shakes his head. "I will never ask that of you. The team is one thing; you and I are separate, okay?" Lexi chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully.

"Nico, this is not my first day as yours." She puckers her lips, sliding them across his puffy ones that are irritated from him chewing them all night.

"Hey." He pulls her in closer, then starts walking her to a quieter section of the wall. "I'm serious. I was being a shit earlier. You and Em planned all of this for me and I really appreciate it."

"Good. I'm glad." She smiles, then glances over his shoulder. "Because your parents came a long way to see you and it would be nice for them to see you happy..." She trails off with a huge grin.

"What?" Nico turns around and gasps in shock, or maybe relief, at seeing both of his parents weaving towards them.

"Surprise." Lexi says quietly from behind him. Nico turns around and lifts his wife into his arms, squeezing her tight as she wraps her legs around his waist.

"Oh my god, I needed this, baby." Nico's parents have a calming presence on their youngest son. Where some players hate to have family visit in the middle to the season, his parents breathe life into Nico and his health.

"I know. That's what I told your mom two weeks ago, before most of this really even started..."

"You see me." Nico murmurs into another kiss.

In three words, Nico obliterates all of the doubt Lexi had felt before this. Yes. She sees him. She knows him best. He understands that about his wife.

And whether Nico realizes it or not, Lexi is always standing beside him, shoulders the weight of this team with him every single moment- good and bad.

[gladiusveritatis]

i saw people say liam has narcolepsy whats your take on it? would he sleep at midnight

I can discuss this in more detail -so to speak, provide more food for thought - if people in the fandom are interested. However, personally, I don’t believe in these attempts to assign diagnoses to every character and so on, simply because, in this case, I don’t care. I’m more inclined to believe it was an artistic technique to illustrate how much William thinks and how much weight he carries on his shoulders. So, I don’t believe in this diagnosis of his, just as I couldn’t care less about whatever other labels the fandom tries to attach to him.

Type 2 narcolepsy is a chronic neurological disorder characterised by excessive daytime sleepiness without cataplexy, meaning individuals experience sudden and uncontrollable sleep episodes but do not suffer from the sudden loss of muscle tone seen in type 1. Unlike yype 1, which is caused by a deficiency of hypocretin (orexin) - a neurotransmitter responsible for regulating wakefulness and REM sleep - type 2 does not typically show this deficiency, making its underlying cause less well understood, though it is believed to involve dysfunction in sleep-wake regulation. Symptoms often include persistent fatigue, sudden sleep attacks, fragmented night-time sleep, difficulty concentrating, and in some cases, hypnagogic hallucinations or sleep paralysis, though these are less common. Due to the chronic disruption of sleep cycles, narcolepsy is frequently associated with mood disorders such as depression or anxiety, and long-term sleep deprivation can contribute to cognitive impairments, metabolic issues, and even cardiovascular risks. In the case of Liam, his episodes of abruptly falling asleep while eating, working, or even in the bath strongly resemble EDS, the core symptom of narcolepsy, suggesting he may suffer from type 2🤷‍♀️ If Liam does indeed have narcolepsy, he represents an individual who has mastered control over his condition.

[youremyheaven]

Lana Del Rey: Kibbe Analysis

My one big issue with discussions of Kibbe IDs is how we seldom consider how these manifest in regular people with regular bodies. Every Kibbe ID has a certain "look" associated with them. SDs are presumed to be voluptuous, like the human incarnation of a fertility goddess, therefore people who are underweight/thin are automatically classified as something other than SD. verified FNs tend to be very thin and athletic so someone who is heavier is presumed to not be an FN. Most verified TRs are dead white women who were very very small so someone who is of average height with a more average build is perceived to be anything other than TR.

Since SN is the most common type, every woman with an average build is typed as one. This is especially true of those who have a heavier build, because weight gain, especially if its due to medication/health issues/binge eating etc can make anybody regardless of type, look "broad and bulky".

Lana has been in the limelight for over a decade at this point and her body has been under great scrutiny. She's a normal person whose weight fluctuates. Its important to understand that. Your Kibbe ID does not change with weight gain/loss. Kibbe is about image identity, that's not something that can be altered with plastic surgery or weight loss/gain; its who you are.

With that said, I believe Lana is a Flamboyant Natural.

Lana has a naturally straight-ish frame with little waist definition. At a lower weight her body is more narrow.

Her hips and her bust do not break the line of her body, which is to say they are not very prominent through the clothes she wears.

(im sorry Lana's head is cropped but I promise its Lana!!)

Compare Lana's chest to Selena's on the right. With weight gain, both of them have bigger chests but Selena (verified TR) has a chest that's naturally curved and prominent whereas Lana's chest is more broad and wide and not as pronounced.

Its evident in these pictures how her body does not look "curvy", her bust and her hips are not prominent or pronounced, she has a "straight" frame. She is a Natural type. According to celebheights.com (this is the most accurate source for celebrity heights as celebs usually exaggerate their heights) Lana is 167cms or 5'6 but seems taller, she is not rounded or blunt and has obvious vertical. This is why she is Flamboyant Natural and not Soft Natural.

These are all outfits that highlight her Romantic/Dramatic/Ethereal essence.

All these light flowy fabrics look soooo good on her and her Kibbe ID & essences all seem to harmonize well.

Naturals have the frame to carry light flowy fabrics without looking shapeless or like they're carrying a sack. Its giving ✨goddess ✨

Soft, light weight fabrics like silk, satin and kind of loose, unstructured dresses work very well for Natural types.

These aren't very flattering looks on Lana because they emphasize width and dont accomodate her vertical. When she's in outfits that suit her ID & essence, she shines so much<333

[jihyoruri]

okay I NEED to talk abt this bc richgirlyn is literally me FORREAL 

so uhh not the analysis I thought I’d be doing but I need to. the other one will be later 

ok tw for eds I guess like this is the entire analysis 

disclaimer. this is all my interpretation as well as my experience. I’ve had an issues w eating since 8 (almost twins!) and it’s been literal years. this is just what I think based on what I’VE seen and done as a girl. I know men can have ed’s but I will be talking abt it from my standpoint, which is hashtag girl. everyone’s experience is different.

key: ana=anorexia, ed=eating disorder 

Ive never dealt with real bulimia so take whatever I say with a grain of salt

okay. here’s why richgirlyn having an ed, specifically how she develops ana as she gets older makes a lot of sense (Ive had a fixation on eds and the way they affect the mind for so long..)

i feel like people forget just how genuinely maddening have an eating disorder is.

most of the time in movies they’re there for laughs and portrayed as “oh she just kinda throws up!”  (heathers, the musical) or “oh she wants to be skinny so bad she js doesn’t eat!” (mean girls) (I love both of them btw they’re just what come to mind)

like that is not what they are like AT ALL

eating disorders are some of the most deadly mental illness there is and because it mostly affects teenage girls and women people literally treat it like something not that serious or a joke it’s actually insane how people do not gaf about it

so anyway.

I feel like if children have issues with food they always start out thinking of purging

it makes sense! if you don’t want calories, just get rid of them.

obviously, it doesn’t work that way, and purging doesn’t even actually work well LMAO most of the calories are absorbed unless u throw up like the second food enters ur mouth like it is not foolproof at all.

but to a child it makes sense. the food is gone so you can’t gain weight

and when you’re a kid your gag reflex is way more sensitive so it’s way easier to vomit. when you get older it’s so much harder

bulimia is not really possible long term for idols because of its side effects which are:

erosion of tooth enamel making them appear clear other than white

sunken in, bulging eyes

swollen cheeks

hair loss 

GERD

also for the fact it doesn’t really help much with not absorbing the calories + the fact that it affects the appearance, which idols need to be perfect, + the fact that it affects your voice, which idols need, and also throwing up is difficult 

much more common in idols is anorexia.

so! actually the side effects of ana aren’t as noticeable if you’re not restricting a lot! at about 700-800 calories max a day I didn’t experience hair loss or getting spots on my skin

It was mostly that I was just tired all the time and kind of irritable. i never experienced any physical effects other than losing weight (didn’t lose much muscle bc most of the cals were protein and I worked out everyday)

anyway

richgirlyn definitely likes control.

we can see how control has been taken from her time and time again— mostly by her dad, making all the decisions while she doesn’t get a say, and later, how her members and the people around her treat her.

eds are about control more than looks. It’s the one safety net, the one thing you can always be good at.

when everything around you is falling apart— you can control what you eat. it’s like an accomplishment. look how low I got the number! I’m so good at this! I’m so disciplined!

It’s like. “no one could ever get as low as me”. It makes you weirdly competitive 

and obviously there’s pressure to be skinny as a trainee. It’s what half of your self worth is based on. so if you can control that? and punish yourself (because as we’ve discussed richgirlyn does NAWT like herself that much) while you’re at it? It’s literally gold

she practices and practices, trying to be good enough, the best, and she doesn’t want to eat. eating is kind of like admitting defeat and saying you’re weak and giving in to the need to have food. 

oh and y’all don’t KNOW what mommy issues do with an ed like.

if losing weight makes someone PROUD? oh you KNOW you’re dropping to size 0 trust like it’s actually insane. I can’t even explain the real insanity that comes with an ed it makes you actually crazy. you start becoming afraid of certain numbers because they look bigger even if it’s not how it works. ex: it’s better to eat 98 cal than 50 because 98 feels “smaller” like it’s CRAZY. the state of mind you have when you’re doing that is really seriously not normal like I know it’s obvious but people don’t GET IT. you become very obsessive and cagey over it like if you eat over a certain limit you will literally either break down or get up and go work out until you think you’re back under and the guilt eats you up inside. richgirlyn is SAUR MEEEE FOR REAL

so ANYWAY richgirlyn having an ed makes sense. specifically ana.

she likes control, she wants something to feel proud about (along with her singing and dancing and rapping abilities), it’s something her mom’s PRAISED HER FOR so you already KNOW when her mom is like “wowww you’ve lost weight!” she is like I’m gonna get so much worse.

and also there has to be a part of her that wants someone to worry. i know she hates being seen as weak but I just know minjeong saying smth like “oh I wondered how u stay thin it’s cause u js don’t eat” made her feel so validated because it’s proof that she’s sick and she’s not okay and she’s not making it up.

I’m very sure her being well off has completely fucked with the idea of her being “allowed” to feel negative emotions. like “I’m rich, I shouldn’t be sad” but with any negative emotion.

and I know she was getting better until she got put in le sserafim I just KNOW especially CURRENTLY?

the stress of her members disliking her makes her feel worse abt her self making her want more control and also there’s this very fucked up part of it where it’s like. the less I eat and the less space I take up the more they’ll like me, they won’t hurt me if they think I’m sick and fragile and GODDD that’s so her. she wants to be strong so bad but sometimes.

anyway it’s 1 am this isn’t a great analysis maybe I’ll circle back to this but I needed to talk about it

I love richgirlyn she’s witerwally me 

-🎏

It’s crazy that everything you just said is so correct like completely correct when it comes to richgirl!yn’s problems.

and because this has been going on since she was ten it’s just a normal routine for her all that girl does is try her best to become better, and because she knows that her image is something that her mother actually pays attention about her, so it’s rlly important to her.

even now that she’s an idol she doesn’t talk to her mom but there’s times when her mom will call her and be like “you look a little different.” and then she’s completely back in that cycle

[lostsoulaltair]

Owari no Seraph Chapter 133 - Analysis & Review

Hello everyone, it's been a goddamn while; I've been busy with things, also learning constantly a new language; thus, given that I did like the latest chapter, I wanted to talk or discuss about it; as always, feel free to discuss, disagree, or share your thoughts; though of course, the only thing I request is respect.

Thus let's proceed

A destroyed world a talk about the "meaning of life" & "what it means to live". At the end, we're young.

The chapter might joke a lot between the girl's conversation which it might feel unnecesary or perhaps not worth it but given how the two characters were build; Shinoa is the type of character that does know when there's certain tension when someone is concerned about her.

But let's focus on something more important; the chapter begins with Mitsuba finally finding Shinoa who has been far away from her squad after Guren, Mahiru, Krul and company left to most likely the place where Yuu is.

Mitsuba after for so long finally made an appearance which is something I'm glad for; and as a good friend, she shows her concern given that she's never seen Shinoa act out of her usual demanor.

Something that I do find adorable is the very fact that Mitsuba is trying to be supportive given that there is a weight being carried on Shinoa's shoulders; while it's true Shinoa has never spoken about what she endured as a child; Mitsuba does want to understand her friend and no matter what might happen, they're there for her.

Thus leading to the next panel; Shinoa has always seen herself as a character with no value or rather, that thanks to her existance, the lives of innocents were screwed given that she was compatible with the monster that made sure the world ended in the way it is.

But once again, Mitsuba does convey the message of how Yoichi, Kimizuki and her feel towards her given that there's absolutely no one to reasure her that her life is as valuable as others.

And of course, we got the author with its weird interest on female bodies but; jokes aside from such panel; there's an aspect of truth to it. They are teenagers, they're no longer kids; they're characters that were forced to grow up at a very young age, forced to change to endure all the struggles of their surroundings to the point they had to mimic adults in a sense.

Many might find it pointless, boring, and perhaps even unrelated but the very fact that they touched the emotions of Shinoa does lead to a heavier topic.

Such topic is reflected in the next panel:

While it's true that Yuu has constantly talked about "a reason to live", "family", "friends", etc. Yuu does not know the weight of those words; he says he's going to save everyone, but in order to save somoene, there are consequences, losses and the sort in such path; nothing can be obtained for free in life and that's something that perhaps he might face eventually.

Returning with the squad, Mitsuba at first dismisses such question about the "meaning of life".

There is a huge relevance to the question; and this of course, reflects to the very first issue; that they've been working on how to save their lives that they haven't ever thought about themselves.

While it is very common to see that whenever someone says "that person thinks about themselves" it can come in a negative connotation; but that's not entirely the case; there's a difference between being selfish and understanding one's self.

When it comes to being selfish, it does relate about not caring a bit about what your actions may eventually do to others, how much harm you may cause due to them, willingly or not; it is literally dismissing a reason to as to why there may be something halting something one may want.

But, when it comes to understanding one's self; it is not only a superfitial level of understanding; it is knowing what one person may want, may long, may fight for, what may make them sad, what may anger them, etc.

In this case, Mitsuba realized that she has never given a deep thought to what she, as Mitsuba Sanguu truthfully wants. She grew up to be a soldier, to battle every time in order to protect those who couldn't protect themselves but with the development of the squad, it was not just a journey of sticking together, it was a journey of finding out that love can develop after getting to meet someone.

Eventually, Mitsuba does understand that it's not the typical joke mood or non serious conversation but rather a very important one.

In the next panel, Mitsuba's first longing or desire was to be acknowledged or to be validated. To be recognized; which of course, Shinoa mentions that she does understand that and it is true; Shinoa as a child did want validation from everyone or rather, instead of the term "validation", what it is more proper is "recognition or acknowledgement of existance".

True, in the current chapter Shinoa mentions she was luckier given that they never bothered with her; there's a difference between Mitsuba and Shinoa, which was showing what they could do in order to seek that. Mitsuba tried her best to show that she too held talent; alas with Shinoa, she simply ditched the idea, there was no reason to even fight about it.

But thanks to the very fact that she remembered what Mahiru did even if I too, agree that it was a really harsh method; she did know that at least someone cared about her existance.

Mitsu states that Shinoa was loved in contrast to her that no one loved her; which makes Shinoa to reasure her that she does love Mitsuba. And of course, while it's true that the original source uses the kanji Ai (愛) it does not carry a romantic context (Yes I've been studying if you wonder and there's still a longer way ahead).

Shinoa is reasuring Mitsuba that she too is loved; just like how Mitsuba expressed on her best way that Yoichi, Kimizuki and her cared about Shinoa's safety; Shinoa too knows that the squad itself cares about each other; after all, they're a small family that can only encourage each other to keep going.

But here comes something important that perhaps it might be to personal interpretation but Shinoa does state something important:

Because love exists for someone, it does not mean that's the sole reason to the meaning of life or for a reason to live.

What does that mean?

Us as humans, be in the different envioroments we end up growing, we end up finding purposes for our existance, sometimes it takes longer, other times we have certainty that we found out what we want to do with our lives; along such trail, we will find friends, perhaps a person we might fall in love; we might suffer about a heartbreak or two or so on; but despite that, it's a path we've chosen to walk because very independent of the bonds we forge along the way; there are things we want to do out there, we long for new experiences, new insights, new spots to visit, and of course, we can never suspend the time; we grow up, we mature, we gain interest in other things as we grow which is visible how from childhood, we change a lot when we become teenagers, so as adults too, we change.

In Shinoa's case, she is truthful that she does not find value to her life, given how many chains of events involving her lead to misfortune for others; but despite that, she is thankful that there are people out there that do love her despite the harm her existance may has brought up upon Earth.

Nevertheless, we get a follow up, once Shinoa expressed herself, Mitsuba asks her directly about Yuu's acknowledgement, recognition or validation. Which of course, she responds honestly to it.

It hurts; and it is natural that it hurts her; it's the first time she fell in love with someone but not in the same way Mahiru did, not in the same turn of events Mahiru went through; after all, it's something I'll discuss a bit further from here. Let's continue.

Shinoa eases the mood by asking Mitsuba about how she feels towards Yuu which of course she knows very well that she too has a crush on him. But despite that many might feel the conversation as pointless, there's something certain to the panel itself; it is letting the weight and torment of many mixed emotions go, finally opening up to someone who understands you, to have someone you can trust unconditionally.

The mood eventually soothes to the point the two of them are in peace; having talked about such things when they've never had the opportunity to act like teenage girls, it was a rather refreshing experience for them.

I can't say that's correct or not but even in movies that face the end of the world, characters tend to talk about things they long to do and the sort.

Once Mitsuba asks Shinoa about her first real reason to live; one could understand that it is left to free interpretation given that both girls are simply enjoying their youth; they still haven't found a very truthful reason as to why they're there but for now; they did understand something.

Life is not just about existance, it's more than just hoping validation or acknowledgment, it is akin to what exactly you want to experience, it is about what you want to do instead of what others want you to do.

This leads to the new path I've mentioned before and this shall be discussed in the next point

Moving onwards to a new goal

After a girl's talk; Mitsuba points out about Shinoa's talent that is way above Mahiru's; such talent has always been hinted since the LNs were created.

Shinoa mentions that given that at that time she lacked a motive along goals within her reach; and of course, even Shikama pointed it out that she lacked desires, there was not so much she could do despite being more powerful than Mahiru, nevertheless, Mitsuba is aware Shinoa has gained something she lacked from the very beginning. Confidence.

This leads for Shinoa to have a discussion with her squad, but of course, they were eavesdropping the girls; they gave them their privacy. While they too are clumsy, reckless, immature in general, they too understand that people need some time alone to recollect their thoughts; they understand that there are things that sometimes can only be discussed with a certain someone not because of a lack of interest but rather because there is something that can be conveyed way better.

But very independent of that, it just reflects that Yoichi and Kimizuki have been worried as well about the girls after Yuu's departure along Guren and Vampires.

The next scene is actually something I am rather thankful that I actually thought I'd never see in the story in general; and that is the very fact that they're taking independent action for once; they're no longer following Guren's orders, they're no longer following a vampire's guidance that ends up falling in Guren's hand or Shikama's; nor they are following Yuu's wishes but rather; they're trying to open up a new path but exclusively for what they do label as "family".

Within the squad members, Kimizuki, Yoichi and Mitsuba long to see their families back due to the unfair deaths they had; Shinoa despite not having someone to call family or rather simply accepting the course of nature; she does want to see her friends having their families back, she has seen them struggle, she has seen the desperation of Kimizuki, the longing of Yoichi to have a miracle granted. But instead of following someone else's agenda given that Guren and Mahiru do have knowledge that they simply won't share to the squad; it is the first step for them to walk and open a new path for them.

Shinoa is very aware that their knowledge is limited, along the fact that they're not on an equal ground in terms of power; but given that now she does have confidence and something else; as I mentioned briefly in the other point; Shinoa has a deep understanding that the actions her sister took, do not defind her present or future nor how she will eventually turn out; such outcomes are only decided by her alone and if she wants to create a path along her friends, she has to fight for it giving away for the first time, the real power she has within her.

The very fact that Kiseki-O and Gekkouin were manifested by force instead by their wielders says something about what Shikama sought with Shinoa, what could it be?

Correct. Shikama or Sika Madu, was once an angel that served God but due to his arrogance, he lost his path leading to his eternal punishment for it; but even still, even if the angels that fell with him deemed or viewed him as a God. There was something even the reincarnations of such Fallen Angels were never subjected to.

Absolute control.

And thanks to reading the RAW version of the catastrophe at 16 manga; the purpose of Mahiru and Shinoa at the beginning was to control the punishment the Seraph of the End experiment held. But in contrast to Mahiru; Shinoa was born capable to control demons, she was capable of seeing them from a very young age but given that she has motivation along an objective; that power finally has shined. Leading to a new battle:

Perhaps you, dear readers may wonder how Shinoa was able to connect with Shikama despite him sending her off or cutting their ties; and of course, she does mention there was a small connection; truth to be told; even if Shikama wanted, she was born with him; they were together ever since she came to existance, hence that even if he tried to severe his ties to her, there will be something chaining him down.

And of course, the battle between Shinoa and Shikama has begun

Shikama gave away his power for light BUT, given that Shinoa could devour such darkness; it can only lead this

All the power that came from God's light may be stored in Shinoa's body and as they say, even if darkness tries to consume light; light always finds a way to cast aside the shadows that darkness creates.

Quite long huh? What do you think?

Let me know!!

[eat-healthyisgood]

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Explore the traditional calorie-centric paradigm and its limitations.

Examine the acute University of Surrey study reported on ScienceDaily and its surprising findings.

Unpack the mechanisms behind carbohydrate restriction and metabolic marker improvements.

Review corroborating evidence from acute and longer-term studies.

Discuss clinical and public health implications of a low-carb metabolic focus.

Compare low-carb with other dietary strategies.

Provide practical guidance for implementing a metabolically-focused low-carb diet.

Highlight how to measure success via biomarkers, independent of weight loss.

Address risks, misconceptions, and research gaps.

Look ahead at future research directions.

Conclude with key takeaways and an FAQs section tackling common “People Also Ask” queries.

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