#people say some atrocious stuff without thinking twice and they are hurtful without even being able to tell

[cherry-jamx]

why and how??? are you so kind?

You’re the third person who tells me this in the timespan of 24 hours. 👀

I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t know if *I’m* kind all the time too. I just try to.

I try to keep in mind that everyone goes through something I can’t necessarily understand and I try to avoid saying things that could hurt them.

I think it’s easy too to hurt someone with your behavior or something you say. People do it all the time. The challenging thing is to be decent.

[capitainerowen]

I have an issue with Billy’s death

I really like Stranger Things and especially the season 2. However, as much as watching the season 3 was a pleasure at the moment, it feels like a joke, every time I think of it again.

The season had a lot and a lot of things that I loved but I will not talk about it here because I really, really want to talk about Billy.

Billy is a real jerk, I know it. He made a lot of bad stuffs, towards Max, towards Steve, towards Lucas, … but for some reasons I really liked him? I cannot explain it because I’m not the type to like assholes but him? I like him, and because of that, I really wanted him to improve. I really was hoping it, and at the end of the season 2, it felt like he could maybe improve, because of what happened with Max. Maybe it is because I’m too focused on possible character’s development and because I just knew at the end of season 2 that he was meant to die (The B-name tragedy, you know it, I know it, we all know it) and I hated that so much with all my heart.

During the season 2, Billy was really bad and dangerous and murderous against the Party and apparently, it was because he is racist. I’m not victim of racism so I can understand that it is a possibility, but to be true I still think that there was so many others reasons for him to hate the four of them, like: the fact that they were searching in the trash can (Dustin), the only one to cosplay in middle school (the four of them), insulting Max (Mike), confessing their love and made a marriage proposal (Lucas to Mike), literally had a freaking funeral because everyone thought they were dead (Will), … and the fact that they are boys and Max is a girl. Because of his father (that piece of shit), these were all pretty good reasons for him to hate them.

I am not excusing what he did, of course not. I mean, he tried to kill them twice in season two, he threatened Max, beat up Steve multiples times… These are not good things, of course, but I really understood it as a reaction to what was happening to him. His relationship with his dad was really atrocious and horrible and it really was bad, he was victim of physical and psychological tortures and I do not want to think about how bad it was, but it was bad enough for him to still cry. It does not excuse his behavior, but it was an explanation. In season 1, Steve became an asshole to Jonathan and Nancy and while it was still a bad thing, he was not the only responsible and he had the opportunity to redeem himself, so I really hoped Billy could too, and his death makes me feels nauseous. Actually, I may do a whole post to explain why every death of the B-name characters are terrible.

I wanted Billy to redeem himself because I felt like it was important for him to understand how his behavior was bad as an example for the public to understand how harassment works in every little things, like his behavior with Max or with Steve that are at first “little” or “almost nothing” (which we know, isn’t nothing, obviously), because a lot of people doesn’t get that their behavior is toxic towards some persons and hurtful, since a lot of people (such as myself) internalize their pain like if it wasn’t really a problem. Even if I knew he would not survive, I still think that somehow it would have been important. It would have been really important because it is rarely, if it’s not never, talked in the show how the characters have hurtful and/or toxic behaviors to each other.

For example, Mike’s behavior with his friends, he rarely shows regrets of his mistakes (pushing Lucas, lying to, and screaming at El, stealing Nancy, insulting Will’s sexuality, disrespecting Max for being the first girl bold enough to talk to him after El disappearance, …), and he’s not the only one! They all have toxic behaviors (except for Dustin who is perfect somehow?) and with Billy who is obviously one of the worst characters for that point would have been a perfect occasion for everyone to rethink their behavior. Obviously, I am not saying that all the relationships are absolutely awful, they’re good, but still! Sometimes, even to our friends or family, we made some bad stuffs, and admitting it and saying sorry for that is okay and it is important.

I really, really felt that it could have been important, and the show is about these kinds of stuffs sometimes (like when Steve really tried to make himself forgiven or when Dustin helped Mike and Lucas to talk about their feelings) but apparently, Billy didn’t deserve that? And it hurts me a lot because Billy dying without having the possibilities to become a better person while his father, who was beating him and using his sexual orientation as an excuse to that, will end the show alive and okay makes me sick. It’s like Will and Jonathan father who is still very much okay when he manipulated Joyce for money and rejected Will’s passions because he thought it was too “gay”, and I’m really not okay with that. It’s really bad because it feels like homophobia is forgivable in the show and that is not a good thing? And yeah, I know, there is Robin who is a lesbian, but Will is clearly queer-coded, and it’s never said clearly or only as a judgement or a bad thing (like the conversation between Joyce and Hopper in the season 1 after he’s missing or Mike insulting him and judging him in season 3) and that’s a huge problem! However, I’ll stay on my Billy’s issue.

To talk about Billy’s family again, letting Billy having a redemption arc would have been really important! Now, with him being dead, Max is all alone with an abusive stepfather and a mother who let it all pass, and it’s absolutely sure that her stepfather will be violent on her and/or her mother since Billy isn’t here anymore and let’s be real, it will either end with blood and trauma or be completely forgotten which is not okay!

Also, except for being another trauma for El, what was Billy’s death useful for? Because clearly, Max is already over it at the end and El has already a lot to deal with Hopper’s death. It is clearly a bad written death and once again, if Billy has gotten a development, a redemption arc instead of just dying, it could have been so important. Billy is a horrible character, but he clearly had the opportunity to become better and to help the other characters and for a lot of things! His relationship with Max could have become so much better for the two of them. At the end of the season two, their relationship was really bad but was still really interesting! It could have led to something in which they both started to try and understand each other and have a real fight in which Max explains to Billy why she is happy with the boys and El and in which Billy could finally tells Max why he’s acting like that, except for El to discover it by entering his mind and reading his memories without him agreeing to that. Yes, it was important for her to literally survive but still! It could have led to a conversation so El understands that it’s not okay to read people memories, and that even if it was important at the moment but that, after a conversation in which El reveal Billy’s most intimate memories, or after El reading someone’s mind to prove they lied to her, Billy and her could have a conversation to talk about it, and it could have been really interesting because with Max, they played with that power a lot.

Like I really hoped he could have become someone really important, and better. For the show, it would have been really important, and a great way to explain to El why, even if she has the right to use her powers like she wants, they are still some rules to respect (and a better way than how Mike says it, saying it just because he’s jealous of her relationship with Max…).

So… yeah, I’m not feeling quite okay with Billy’s death, and not just because I like him but because there is a real issue that I see in his writing and, as a writer myself and a fan of the show (and yes, the character), I really hoped he could have become better even if, like I said previously, it was really obvious that he was about to die, since his name starts with the letter B (I really hate that pattern so much, you have no idea), and to be honest, the season 3 is really the one I hate the most, maybe because of how good the two firsts seasons were and because I was so scared for Dustin’s life that I wasn’t prepare for the writing of that season.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #242

“i don’t miss you, i miss the misery.”

How many pairs of converse shoes do you own? Hm... three or four? Any other names your parents planned to give you? The only one I *think* I remember is Katelyn. Thank fuck I dodged that bullet. Which is the most beautiful place you know? The mountains between NC and TN, if I remember correctly. I was very young. What do you work with? I don't work period & I hate it. Have you ever hit an animal with your car? Thank Christ no. Favorite ride at the amusement park? I guess ferris wheels. Favorite beauty essential in your bathroom cabinet? I don't have a "favorite" considering I don't use any regularly. Do you have many followers on your Tumblr? Nah. Do you tan easily? I burn like toast, man. Are you expecting something in the mail? No. Do you inspire others? Idk. What do you collect? Meerkat stuff and Silent Hill merch. Do you like cats? Hell yes!!! Are you healthy? If you excuse my weight and muscle atrophy, I'm actually pretty healthy, according to a billion tests I've gotten done when trying to discover *why* I had such awful pain in my legs. Have you ever been out of state? Yeah. Can you always blame your acts on that you were just too drunk? Fuck no. Three things you try to avoid as much as possible: Well dying lmao, getting hurt, public speaking. How many times have you been overseas? Zero. Do you use to have someone in mind when shopping for underwear? Wait what the fuck- What accent do you have? I don't really have one, although I do have a southern tone with some words sometimes I suppose. I also do say things like "y'all" or "fixing to (do something)," so I use some Southern terminology. Where would you like to live? The mountains of western NC. Sigh. Do you follow fashion? No. Do you have a big butt? Ever heard of Hank Hill Ass Syndrome? I have Hank Hill Ass Syndrome. Your worst job nightmare is: Customer service EVER again. Who’s the coolest rapper in the world? Idk and idc. Do you count how long you and your gf/bf have been together? I mean yeah, I think anniversaries are worth celebration. Healthy relationships aren't always easy to maintain; to remain in love takes forgiveness, loyalty, dedication... all that. It shouldn't be hard, but it takes effort. Have you graduated? High school, anyway. Rihanna or Lady Gaga? Lady Gaga, definitely. Do you use fake eyelashes? No. What’s your worst interior design nightmare: I dunno. Probably just being very crammed? What makeup brands do you use? I don't have any particular ones; I don't wear makeup enough. What’s the worst kind of rejection you could give someone? I genuinely feel it to be how Jason did so with me. Three and a half years in a very serious relationship, and he out of the blue breaks up with me over Facebook because my depression became "too much." Like by NOW I understand I can't shame him for wanting to be happy, but the way he did it was fucking cruel and tore me apart. Like especially when this person was your refuge from daily pain and pretty much your god and future (never make someone that, holy holy HOLY shit don't), that individual just suddenly having enough and breaking contact off like that was emotional murder. Do you have a crush on someone right now? Well yeah, but it's like... a "tamed" one? Is that an accurate word? Like I understand it just can't work right now, but it doesn't stop me from liking her. Is there anyone that many people think is hot, but you don’t? I'm sure there's someone. Do you sort and organize your clothes in some kind of way? Sorta. When somebody intimidates you, how do you usually act around them? Nervous, skittish, more awkward than usual. Is your favorite singer in a band or does he or she ride solo? Brendon Urie is in P!atD and Patrick Stump is in Fall Out Boy. Freddie Mercury was the vocalist of Queen. Did your parents ever hang your old artwork up on the walls? Yeah, Mom still has some up lmao. How often do you wear chapstick? Only when my lips are actually chapped. Do you walk around your house with your shoes on or do you take them off? Definitely off. What is the weirdest obsession you’ve ever had? Collecting stickers, maybe? How many of the seven deadly sins have you fulfilled today? Sloth is on the daily lmao, gluttony, and lust. Should guys always kiss the girl on a first date? Not always, of course not. It depends on the comfort level, and I would ALWAYS ask first. Which band has the corniest music videos? Corniest lyrics? I don't really watch music videos, and idk about lyrics. What subject is/was hardest for you in school? Math. Have any songs ever inspired you to play an instrument? No. Do you ever use Pandora? No. Are you better with creative writing or writing essays? I think I'm good at both, but I probably excel in creative writing. When was the last time you were rick rolled? No clue. What is the weirdest animal you’ve ever seen as a pet? Seen, I guess a chinchilla, though that's not really "weird." If you had to change one, would you rather change your hair or your eyes? Eyes. When was the last time you had a ‘she-mergency’? I had to look this up to be certain what that even was lmao. Probably some time I started my period at school and had to use folded toilet paper or something for a while. Which sounds creepier: sleeping in the attic or the basement? I'd say it depends on the make-up of each and its cleanliness. What was your favorite computer game as a kid? I think it was called The Amazon Trail 3? It was a damaged disc however, so it froze a lot. I think I only finished it once or twice; even knowing it would likely crash, I just liked playing it as far as I could. Have you ever tried on your mom’s wedding ring? No. Any shows on TV that you flat out refuse to start watching? 13 Reasons Why, to name perhaps the #1. What is your opinion on fruitcake? NO. Here’s a tough one. Would you rather marry your cousin or a dog? Oh fuck off, neither. Who did you last dream about? I can't remember what it was about, but I know Mark was in it lmao. Do you have trouble remembering important things? Sometimes. My memory is atrocious. Which animal can you imitate the best? Audibly? Probably a cat. Which is harder - walking in the snow or sand? Sand. I FUCKING hate walking through sand. It's one reason I don't like the beach. Do you like sour candy? oml YES. If anyone, who did you sit with at lunch today? N/A Have you gotten any injuries lately? If so, what and how? Not anything I can remember. Are you a clumsy person? You have no idea. How about disorganized? I'm oddly split down the middle. Last male you talked to in person? My dad. Have you ever had a sunburn? Oh boy, I've gotten past that. Try sun poisoning. Are you thinking about asking anyone out? No. Pink lemonade or regular lemonade? PINK! Chocolate or strawberry milk? Oh boy, chocolate. I tried strawberry as a child and absolutely loathed it beyond words known to man, and I will not be giving it a second chance. I remember it pristinely. Disgusting. What volume is the ringer on your phone? It's on vibrate. Have you ever won a contest on the radio? No. Do you often write on yourself? I never do, 'less we're talking about tattoos lol. Is there writing on the shirt you are currently wearing? No. Frosted flakes or frosted mini wheats? I hate the latter, so I guess frosted flakes, though I don't really remember how they taste. Do mushrooms really add flavor to food? I hate them, so they obviously have enough flavor for me to notice them... What about onions? Yes. Are you a fan of Thai food? I've actually never had Thai food. How about Indian food? Same as above. Have you ever tried sushi? No. In your opinion, who would be the best president? I don't know. What was the last thing you spent more than $20 on? I have no ide- oh wait I paid for Teddy's surgery with... money I don't know from whence it came? Was it financial aid money? Idr. Do you wear actual designated ‘pajamas’ to bed? Pj pants and a tank top. When was the last time you were tempted to do something you’d later regret? Probably take a nap late in the day, ending in me being unable to sleep well at night. Thankfully, I decided against it. Have you ever had feelings for your best friend’s significant other? Yes. Well, not current best friend, but a former one. How many times did you ride in a car today? Zero. Are you comfortable in your own skin? Fuck no. What's absolutely splendid is even when/if I lose the weight I aim to, I'm going to have loose skin that literally might make me hate my body more until I without argument muster up the money to get it surgically removed. Are you in a good mood right now? I'm alright. When was the last time you had an ice cream cone? Been quite a while. Did you eat breakfast this morning? Yeah, had some cereal. Have you ever been in a cemetery at midnight? No. Do you live on your own? No. I don't even think I could tolerate living alone because of my depression and how loneliness can severely trigger it. I'm realistically probably not moving out until it'll be with an s/o. If not, who do you live with? I live with my mom, my sister's dog, and my cat and snake. How old are your siblings, if you have any? I have a lot, and I don't know the ages of all of them, only my two immediate sisters: 26 and 21. Have you ever had a crush on a sibling’s friend? No. Have you donated blood in the last 2 years? No. What was the last free t-shirt you received from? School. Is there anything you are looking forward to at the moment? February 4th, baby. Tattoo gets fixed up by an artist I like far more. Him not having an open booking until then should say enough. Are you an atheist? No. Are you Asian? No. Are you fluent in another language? No. Are you in the military? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Are you an artist? Not professional, but I enjoy making art. Are you a musician? No. Are you an athlete? Oh, hunny- Do you have a favorite flower? I really like orchids. Where was the last place you went that was more than an hour away? Great question... The trip to my therapist is about an hour, but not over. Why were you going there? For therapy. Who was the last person to tell you you looked nice? Probably Mom, idk. Have you ever been to a nude beach? Hell no, I wouldn't even if I was in great shape. How many websites do you have an account for? WHEW I have no idea, A LOT over all the years. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Well, WoW is an online game, so a subscription, though because I obviously don't have my own money, I'm sadly rich enough in the game to use monthly tokens. Do you try clothes on before you buy them? Not always. I try to avoid it because I just hate doing it. What would you do if you knew a robber was in your house? Well I obviously don't know how I'd react on impulse, but I'd imagine myself locking my door and then climbing out the window. Then run like a motherfucker up the road some to a neighbor's, or hide in the nearby woods and call Mom. What’s your favorite type of pizza? Meat lovers sobs in wannabe-vegetarian. Have you ever been afraid of falling in love? Yes, very. Who’d you last see in a tux? I don't know. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No. Do you have difficulty pronouncing any words? Yeah, particularly "breakfast." I tend to put a "t" after the "k." Do you have your own computer? Yeah. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mom. Who’s the bravest person you know? Oh man, that's hard. I know a lot of brave people. Who would you want to have your back if things got tough? More than anyone in the world, Mom. Have your friends ever given you answers to homework, last minute? Yeah. Have you ever dated someone who was real sportsy? No. Have you ever done something terrible, but took forever to feel bad? By this point in time, I consider how I spoke to Jason before going to the ER multiple times absolutely terrible, and yes, it did take a very long time for me to realize just how cruel it was. Now it's fucking HARD to accept I ever said what I did. Have you ever read Shakespeare? Yes. Can anyone really change anyone that doesn’t wanna change? Nope. Do you think that anyone currently has a crush on you? I would assume Sara still does, but again, we know a relationship between us just isn't wise right now. What profession do you admire the most? The most? Man, that's hard to decide. Probably those that risk their lives for others, like firefighters, cops (yes, I am aware some abuse their power, but good cops deserve all the respect in the world), etc. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? I don't believe so, no. What’s the hardest lesson you’ve ever had to learn? Bad things happen to good people and no, the universe does not care. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Well obviously.

[alittletournesol]

Kingdom Of Jinju {MinKey} part 14/33

Chapter 14 : The black kiss

It was pure chaos in the front yard, people screaming and crawling to find their relatives. In the middle of the mess, a soldier was holding the unconscious King underneath, while Kibum was staring at the long arrow stuck in his chest. It was like no sound could reach his ears, he only made out a continuous muffled hubbub as his hands were supporting his husband’s head. 

It took him a few seconds before he snapped out of it to notice that the soldier close to him was hurriedly asking for his orders. The Prince realized that, just like in Minho’s supposed absence, he was the one to obey to, the one people relied on. And at the moment, he was desperately needed at too many places at once. He felt overwhelmed. The General had disappeared, there was no face familiar enough to reassure him…

“Hyung !” Taemin shouted as he fell on his knees next to him, taking his face between his hands to make him look at him. “You have to do something !”

“Kibum, it will be fine.” He recognized Jonghyun’s voice as he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Focus on the King, I will help with the people. Just allow your soldiers to rely on me for a moment.”

No sooner said than done, the Prince turned his head towards the few soldiers who were protecting them by surrounding their bodies. He nodded only once, and the teacher stood up, giving a simple order before he directed his stare towards the crowd. His clear voice, usually so low, escaped his throat louder than ever. When he asked for calm once, then twice, the yard eventually stopped this unbearable noise and everyone looked at the blonde man.

This show of authority was enough for Kibum to get a grip on himself, and he carefully put his husband’s head on the soldier’s thighs before he stood up. As soon as they saw their ruler next to the teacher, the people stared at him, their eyes filled with fear and the need to be reassured. The Prince took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself to take the control for the first time.

“Bring the King to his quarters and make sure to call the physician.” He told the few soldiers behind him before turning toward the people, doing his best to ignore the movement behind his back. “People of Jinju, I know you are all scared at the moment I am talking, but I will need all of you to stay calm. Our King has just been hurt and we will immediately take him inside the palace so his Highness will receive care. What just happened… might be an assassination attempt, thus, as long as General Lee does not return with the culprit, you are all disallowed to leave the yard.”

A loud whisper raised from the crowd, combined with fear and worry. Kibum was too overwhelmed himself to use his authority as much as he was able to, and he just raised his arm to ask for focusing. Surprisingly, everyone went quiet.

“Please, we have to avoid any show of panic.” He said louder, slowly gaining confidence as his two friends stood next to him. “Our strength against any kind of attack will always be our cohesion, his Highness and myself need your cooperation. Our deepest wish is to keep you safe, I feel beyond apologetic that this event in your honor has to be interrupted in such an abrupt way. My place now is beside the King, I will excuse myself and leave you in the good hands of Sir Kim Jonghyun, who you entrust so much with your children’s education. Please find your wife, husband, siblings and children. Stay together, do not fear our soldiers who will stay here and protect you. Blankets will be brought to keep you warm when the night gets colder, I will personally ask for more food supplies. Now… I ask you to trust me, and to trust your King. Please pray for him.”

With these last words, Kibum took a precious time to deeply bow to the people, going down on his knees and pushing his upper body against the ground. It only lasted a second but when he stood up and started running towards the palace, no one dared to throw themselves into panic. Just as they were told to, they immediately gathered with their families and friends, following Jonghyun’s instructions who was also giving a few gentle orders to the remaining soldiers.

The Prince’s fast steps on the floor were resounding against the walls, his breathing broken as he made his way through corridors and staircases with Taemin following him. In his chest, his heart was beating to the point it threatened to explode, his ribcage with it ; fear made him feel a lump in his throat, and he found himself quietly praying for some gods he never believed in.

Within a few seconds, he reached the east wing and noticed the King’s quarters’ door wide open. He made out noise and voices coming from inside and rushed in without wasting time with being announced and all this formal stuff. His entrance made everyone raise their head : standing around the huge bed, were the Queen Mother with tears in her eyes that she was trying to hold proudly, the royal physician and two soldiers offering their help.

“How is he ?” Kibum asked, walking forwards as the soldiers shifted to make space for him. “Please tell me he will be fine.”

“Your Grace, you arrive at the right time.” The physician replied, walking to him and taking his hand in both of his with respect. “I am afraid this arrow is stuck deeply, but we need to remove it to provide a treatment.”

“Will it not be dangerous ? I mean, will he not bleed out ?”

“No, your Grace, it missed the heart. It is just above, a few inches I would say. Call it luck or bad mastery from the assassin, but our King will live.”

“What a relief… How can I offer my help, please tell me.”

With these words, the Prince removed his coat and hat, tossing them on the couch before approaching the bed and rolling up his shirt’s sleeves. The sight broke his heart. Lying on the mattress, Minho was still unconscious, his head tilting on the side and supported by his mother’s hand. He was pale, even though he seemed at peace. How come an arrow could put him in such a worrying state, when he wasn’t a weak man at all in a first place ?

After he put his hand for a few seconds on his mother-in-law’s shoulder to reassure her, Kibum followed the physician’s instructions and climbed on the bed to kneel beside his husband. He was handed fabric scissors and with an extremely careful gentleness, he started cutting the coat around the arrow’s shaft. When he felt it slightly move, a drop of sweat formed on his forehead and he asked Taemin to approach and hold the base of the projectile under the King’s clothes, to keep it in place.

The purpose wasn’t to hurt Minho even more than he already was. After a few seconds of slow work, the coat could be removed and the same ordeal started again with his shirt. Both items of clothing were cut open on the sovereign’s chest, their tails resting on the mattress. The Prince refrained himself from gasping when he saw the head of the arrow, indeed deep under the skin. It was stained with blood, dry red lines running down from the wound to the King’s torso and sides.

With each of his weak inhalations, a bit more blood was flowing out of the wound, still obstructed. Kibum swallowed with difficulty and looked away for a second as he felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t the right time to cry, not when Minho needed him more than ever, this time not only for papers and royal stuff. The sudden weakness making his knees quiver faded away and he was filled with a new strength. 

“Your Grace, I will now remove the arrow.” The physician said and asked anyone but the Prince to step backwards to give him more space. “The pain can be really harsh, so the King might wake up because of it. However, it will be quick, but you will have to prevent him from straightening up.”

“I will do everything I can, Sir.” Kibum nodded.

“Please hold him, and be prepared. Do not flinch, your Grace.”

“I will not.”

The Prince positioned himself on his knees, closer to his husband’s body, and he leaned on to put his hand on his torso, near the wound. He ignored the blood staining his fingers and the sensation of Minho’s muscled pectoral under his palm, as he applied a slight pressure to be sure he would be able to keep him lying down. As if his instinct told him to, he didn’t think and used his other hand to hold onto the king’s, taking his fingers in a firm grip.

Somehow, it brought him comfort and reassured him enough to focus on the unconscious face, pale but still so beautiful. The physician eventually approached on the other side of the bed and put his hand opposite his on the King’s chest, grabbing hold of the arrow’s shaft with the other one. And he pulled it out.

The pain Minho felt when the iron point left his body was so atrocious that it indeed drew him out of his unconsciousness. He widely opened his eyes and a sore cry escaped his dry throat as his torso jolted forwards despite him. But Kibum was quick to react and he pushed him back on the mattress, gently hushing him as he pressed his hand in his.

“Shh, shh…” He whispered, dropping formalities. “It’s out, it won’t hurt you anymore… Shh, breathe…”

The King’s breathing was broken and his eyes searched for the origin of the voice he loved so much. He turned his head and saw the Prince’s face above his, staring at him, his eyes filled with a combination of fear and relief. That’s when the latter let go of his chest to put his hand on his cheek to reassure him, the other one still holding firmly onto his. Minho eventually noticed it, and he squeezed his husband’s fingers when the physician pressed a cloth on his wound to stop the slight bleeding. 

Kibum never cared about what the other man was doing since he wasn’t asking him anything, he only focused on Minho’s eyes that refused to leave his. With his thumb, he softly caressed the pale cheekbone in an attempt to soothe him enough to help him regulating his breathing. These few seconds felt like hours, both of them looking at each other without saying anything, and it was more than enough to make them feel less troubled.

Then, without notice, the King blinked a few times before his eyes closed and his head fell on the side, cheek against the Prince’s palm. Unconsciousness swallowed him once again, worrying Kibum who turned towards the physician.

“What is happening ?!” He asked, unable to hide his sudden scare.

“Your Grace, the wound is not… normal.” The other said, frowning as he inspected the cut and the stained cloth. “His Highness’ blood seems infected with something I do know nothing about.”

“I-I beg your pardon ?”

Instead of talking, the old man lifted the cloth covering Minho’s chest and Kibum got staggered by what he saw. If there were still dark red drops escaping the wound, they were definitely stained with black. It was like a strange mixture of blood and ink.

“What is this…?” He asked, his voice trembling as the Queen immediately approached, letting a muffled cry out. “Why is the King’s blood like this ?!”

“I do not know, your Grace, it is the first time I see this.” The physician said, sponging down his forehead. “There is only one way for blood to appear different than it should usually be… poison.”

“Poison ? Did you just say poison ?”

“I am afraid yes… but never have I seen a poison with this effect, your Grace, I… I do not know what to think.”

The King’s mother couldn’t hold it back anymore and she excused herself before she ran away from the room with a sob. The Prince didn’t move an inch, still kneeling on the mattress and holding onto his husband’s hand. It couldn’t be possible. Not only had Minho been shot by an arrow in the middle of a public event, but the aforesaid arrow was poisoned !

Before he could formulate anything else, they heard running steps coming from the corridor, and when they raised their head, it was to see the General rushing in. His chin and neck were splattered with blood and Kibum widened his eyes, his own face losing all its colors.

“J-Jinki…” He stuttered, not able to remember using his title. “The blood…”

“It’s not mine, I’m fine.” The soldier cut him off, himself also forgetting about formal speech as he came closer to the bed to look at his old friend. “How is he ?”

“Bad… he’s been poisoned…”

“Poisoned ?”

“The arrow… none of us knows what kind of poison it is but it… it’s killing him…”

His words were interrupted by a sob he couldn’t hold back, and he turned away to cough and get a grip on himself, wiping his tears away. When he looked back, Jinki was frowning while looking at the black stains.

“It can’t be anything else than poison, yes…” He muttered for himself.

“Have you ever seen this ?” The Prince asked, hope lighting his eyes up.

“No, I never saw something like that. But any poison is made with plants, inoffensive as dangerous ones.”

“Sir, I have studied enough plants during my life to assure you none creates this.” The physician interrupted him. “Unless a new kind of vegetation grew lately, which I think is—”

“Plants…” Jinki thought, searching in his memory before he raised his head and turned towards Taemin. “I want you to run as fast as possible downstairs. Bring me Jonghyun.”

The young boy frowned but didn’t wait to be asked twice : he left the room running. Although Kibum tried to make the General talk his mind, the latter remained quiet, driving him crazy. He was about to grab some pillow to throw it at the other man’s face when steps were heard, and soon Taemin came back with the teacher following him.

They all looked at him and the blonde man approached, not sure about the reason of his presence. Jinki shifted to make space for him near the bed.

“What is it ?” Jonghyun asked. “How is the King, can I help with anything ?”

“I saw your scrolls the other night.” The soldier said, ignoring his questions and surprising everyone. “There were drawings of countless plants and flowers, and I’m sure you were making a record of all their medicinal properties.”

“This… This is right, but why do you say it now ?”

“Look at this. The King was poisoned and it can only be because of a plant, but we don’t know any that can do that. You might know.”

The teacher nodded and leaned on Minho’s body to inspect it, the black stains extremely noticeable in the red blood. He frowned and put the back of his hand on the King’s forehead, noticing a fever and sweat, along with his broken breath. 

“He never woke up ?” He asked.

“He did, when we removed the arrow…” Kibum replied, the lump in his throat growing bigger and his eyes watering. “He looked at me for a moment and he fell unconscious again…”

“It’s poison for sure… but not a known one.”

“Sir, with all due respect, there is no plant in all the realm causing this.” The old man repeated without hiding his irritation to be shadowed by a young teacher for children. “My latest researches date back to before the ice age, and winter’s characteristic is to not let anything grow.”

“And there you are wrong, Sir.” Jonghyun straightened up. “The ice age was actually so uncommonly long that nature started adapting, just like it is meant to do. Did you pursue your researches during winter ?”

“Of course not !”

“I did. And I think I know which plant is the cause of this. Black stains… There is a flower growing on dead trunks, with unusual dark blue, almost black petals. Its stem is part of the tree, like a very thin trunk, and so, it creates sap. Black sap, that poisoned the tree to kill it. It absorbs its sap and nourishes from it to live.”

“Could it be…?” Kibum asked.

“It can’t be anything else. There are only three new plants I noticed during this winter. And the two other are bright and colorful, not showing any form of poisoning.”

“Tell me you studied this black sap flower.”

“I did. And I know how to counter it.”

The Prince put his husband’s head on the pillow with gentleness, and he left the bed to walk to Jonghyun. Both men face each other, and somehow, one second was enough for each of them to notice everything that changed in the other. But at the moment, it wasn’t them who mattered.

“Please, save him.” Kibum asked, his voice low and his eyes staring at his former lover’s. “I want to help.”

“You can’t.” The teacher simply said. “To counter this plant’s poison, we need its own flower’s petals. And there is only one place where it grows.”

“Where ?”

“In Baemyeong.”

“Then what are we waiting for ? General, prepare my horse and my—”

“Kibum, I said you can’t, you’re not coming with me. Your place is here, with the King if he wakes up.”

The black haired man froze, Jonghyun’s stare having way too much power on him. He looked away, his eyes falling on his husband’s body. His chest was raising abruptly with each breath in, lowering sporadically when breathing out. He was in pain, even though he might not actually feel it thanks to unconsciousness. This detail somehow relieved Kibum, who slowly sat on the bed’s edge.

He remained quiet for a few seconds, understanding that his friend was right. He couldn’t leave the Minho’s side, and he didn’t want to either. All of sudden, he didn’t trust this physician anymore and wished to be the only one allowed near his husband — along with his mother, obviously.

“General.” He called, raising his head when he noticed the soldier making a step forwards. “You will go with Jonghyun, if this journey’s purpose is to find a cure for the King, I want our best man to ensure his safety.”

“Yes, your Grace.” Jinki nodded. 

“Did you capture the assassin ?”

“I did, but… unfortunately, he went in for a fight. He lost.”

“Is he dead ?”

“I’m afraid yes. I couldn’t do anything else, it was him or me.”

“You did well, we need you here. But we can’t interrogate him anymore… we will never know why he tried to kill the King.”

“We brought his corpse, it will be examined to find any suspicious detail that could let us know about his identity and the people he works for.”

Kibum nodded and looked at Jonghyun, who was still staring at him.

“How many days…?” The Prince asked. “Will he make it until you come back ?”

“I saw the poison’s effect on trees only, never on men.” The teacher explained, his tone serious and apologetic at the same time. “But there is one thing that reduces the pain and delay the effect of any poison. I will bring it immediately.”

“I’m coming with you.” 

Without waiting for an answer to his words, Jinki grabbed his friend’s wrist and led him outside. Kibum watched them leaving together, and he tried not to focus on this uncomfortable feeling invading his mind. Instead, he asked Taemin to leave too and warn the Queen about the potential remedy to her son’s wound. He also dismissed the physician and the two soldiers, assuming he wouldn’t need them anymore.

Once he was alone, he turned his head towards Minho. Although his face was deprived of colors, the only proof of his pain was the way his eyebrows were furrowed. His forehead was wet with sweat, along with his temples and neck. Without thinking, the Prince stood up and went to the dressing table to grab a white cloth. Fortunately, the bucket of water that was used to clean the King’s wound was still at the foot of the bed, so he took it and brought it closer.

With care, he soaked the cloth and wrung it, before folding it. He then climbed on the bed and sat close to his husband and gently wiped his face down, starting from his forehead and pursuing with his temples. He followed the line of his jaw until he was brushing his neck, getting his skin rid of any sweat and hoping the cold water would help to reduce the growing fever. 

He was about to let himself go even lower on the wounded torso, when he heard the sound of heels and refrained himself from going further. Within a second, the Queen was in the room and leaned onto her son, caressing her cheek and promising him he would be fine. Looking at her, Kibum tried to hold his own tears, as if seeing someone’s sorrow was bringing his own back. He softly explained what was happening, and warned her about the imminent leaving of the General and Sir Jonghyun to Baemyeong.

She didn’t dare to protest, only nodding, and she expressed her gratitude towards the Prince who chose to stay. The latter smiled and asked his mother-in-law not to praise him too much for something that seemed completely normal. He promised her he would remain by the King’s side when he wasn’t called somewhere else during the time he would have to take the helm of the kingdom.

She was in the middle of telling him she would help him with everything related to the kingdom’s matters during her son’s convalescence, when the teacher and the soldier came back to the quarters. Without waiting, they came closer to the bed and while Jinki helped the Queen to stand, Jonghyun handed a small rounded box, made of glass that was letting people know of its content’s color : a really fair yellow.

“This is a powerful balm made with the heart of a flower that grows at the foot of the Gods’ Mountain.” He explained as he opened the container. “Applied directly on the wound, it enters the body and has the property to slowing down any kind of poison.”

“How many times a day ?” Kibum asked.

“Every single time the poison’s effects come back. With the balm, he will certainly wake up but it can only last a few hours before he feels hit again. Be generous.”

“I got it, I will take care of it. Jonghyun… you have to be fast, I beg you… I… I know I’m asking you too much since you know me but —”

“You’re not asking too much, and I will do as fast as possible. Baemyeong is three days away from here, we won’t stay more than a day and will come back as soon as we get the antidote.”

“Your Grace, you have to be strong.” Jinki interrupted them. “While I can’t have my eyes on my King, all my hopes for his recovery rest on you. Please, don’t think about us being away, don’t count the days before our return, only care about helping him. Can you do this ?”

“I can. Protect my friend, General, and… protect yourself, too. I don’t want to see you again with a single scratch.”

“For the time I’m away from the palace, I will name two soldiers as your bodyguards. If there was one assassination attempt, there can be another one, and now that the King is wounded…”

“Don’t say it. Now, I want both of you to leave as soon as possible, don’t bother yourself with a cart and take the bare minimum for the journey. Tie your supplies to your saddle, take my and the King’s horses, they’re the strongest and fastest.”

Both men nodded and after they stared a last time at Minho, they left the quarters. Taemin was called by his mentor, who certainly wanted to give him a few advices and instructions before leaving, so the young boy followed the adults. Only remained in the room the Prince and the Queen Mother, but the woman decided to get some tea prepared for his son’s awakening, along with something to eat. 

Kibum was left alone, standing still near the bed with the open glass box in the hands. When the huge door closed before his eyes, he couldn’t help but let his overwhelming take control over him. He lowered his head and let his tears spreading all over his cheeks, his body shaken with sobs as he was letting his fear out. The night had completely fallen and he put the balm on the bedside table to light some candles. 

Once the quarters were illuminated enough, he leaned on the dressing table and breathed as deeply as possible to get a grip on himself. He needed to be strong, the King wouldn’t heal by himself and he had to be cured. If this balm could reduce his pain and wake him up, even for a few hours, it was his husband’s role to ensure it. Once his tears stopped falling, he sniffed and wiped his face with a clean cloth before he walked towards the bed. Sitting on the mattress, as close as possible to Minho’s body, he carefully slid his hand under his back to push his back up. Once his ripped clothes were free, he grabbed them and gently pulled them to let the King rest directly on the mattress.

He then grabbed the balm and and stared at it for a few seconds, wondering how much of it he must apply. Be generous, he had been told. Nodding for himself, he looked at Minho and put the container on the mattress to have both his hands free ; putting one of his palm against the strong torso, he took the cloth with his other hand and carefully removed it. Blood had stopped running and the wound was dry, but the outside wasn’t reflecting the disaster occurring inside.

Biting his lower lip to support the sight, Kibum grabbed the cloth he had used to wipe sweat off his husband’s face, and soaked it once again to clean a bit the dry blood and the edges of the cut. He had seen his father’s physician do it so many times when their hunters came back with wounds made by the game they were tracking down, that he knew exactly what to do.

Once he felt like he couldn’t make it cleaner, he whispered a few encouraging words to himself and took a good amount of balm on his forefinger and middle finger, joined together. 

“I’m so sorry if it stings or burns or… whatever it does, I’m sorry if it hurts, my King…”

It felt like the hardest move he had to do ever, and it took him a few seconds to eventually push himself to apply the balm. His fingers touched the wounded skin, feeling the damaged edge around the cut. He hissed for himself as he started circling it with the balm, but he remembered Jonghyun had said to put some everywhere… so he also rubbed on the skinless hole, only making sure not to open it even more. Fortunately, his gesture was gentle and didn’t make it worse.

Soon, Minho’s skin was gleaming with the greasy balm on his pectoral, and Kibum stood up to store the box and wipe his fingers. Without waiting more, he immediately went back to kneel on the mattress, and he took his husband’s hand in his while the other one was put on the pale cheek. The Prince’s eyes were staring at the King’s face, moving from one eyelid to the other, like he waited for one of them to start blinking.

“Come on… come on… wake up, my King, I did everything I was asked to, you can’t not wake up…”

A few minutes flew by without any movement, any shiver. The room was completely silent, and Kibum eventually noticed he had stopped breathing when his sight started blurring. He blinked and inhaled deeply, before his shoulders lowered by themselves. Nothing was happening, the balm had no effect at all on this whole new poison. There was no way to know how many days his husband had left, if he was going to wake up like he had a few minutes before…

Countless worries and fears attacked the Prince’s mind at once, and it was too much to handle. The lump in his throat grew bigger and he felt like giving up, sitting on his own heels. A new sob shook his body and this time, he didn’t hold it back, letting go of Minho’s cheek to cover his mouth and muffle his cries. Closing his eyes, he tried to get himself together, but it was like his body had taken control over his brain, he didn’t control anything.

“Stop crying…” He sobbed. “Kibum-ah, stop crying for f-fuck’s sake… h-how can you be crying like a child when your husband needs you to be strong ?! Stop crying, stop crying…”

As he was trying to convince himself, forcing a steady breath by inhaling with his nose and exhaling with his mouth behind his hand, he felt a pressure on his left hand. He immediately went quiet and opened his eyes to lower his head : the King’s hand was squeezing his. Kibum gasped and held it tight before he looked up to Minho’s face. It was less pale than before, even though it wasn’t all colorful yet. His eyebrows were moving, furrowing stronger than they used to, and the wounded man took a slow, deep breath.

His eyelids blinked extremely slowly before he opened his eyes. His sight was blurry and he made out a silhouette above him, with dark long hair and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up. By seconds passing, he distinguished a few other things as he slowly but surely turned his head : he recognized his quarters’ walls, the color of his sheets… and a young man staring at him with his hand holding his on the mattress.

Minho’s lips parted, and he was about to say something but his voice stayed stuck in his throat as he frowned and hissed, feeling a throbbing pain in his chest.

“Shh… easy, don’t move too fast…” A voice he could have never forgotten whispered, and he didn’t raise the absence of formal speech. “It’s fine, my King, it’s fine…”

The sovereign exhaled deeply until the pain reduced, and he opened his eyes again to look at the face above his. A tiny smile raised the corners of his lips when he eventually recognized his husband, but it disappeared when he noticed the red eyes and the wet cheeks, contrasting with the smile lightening his face.

“My Prince…? Why are you crying…?” He asked. “D-Did the festival not go as expected…?”

Kibum replied with a sob combined to a relieved laughter, and he wiped his tears away with his free hand. He then moved the King’s bangs away from his face and held his cheek just like he did earlier, making Minho widen his eyes for a second before his stare softened. 

“How dare you…” The Prince sniffed, his smile dying on his lips. “How dare you…”

“What…? I don’t understand…” His husband frowned before he was surprised by the hand on his cheek going down to extremely gently hit his uninjured shoulder, more caressing it than anything.

“How dare you scare me like you did ! Do you think you can fall unconscious like that and not waking up when I do everything for it ? Did I allow you to make me think you were going to die ? Answer to your Prince, it’s an order !”

Under the King’s dumbfounded eyes, Kibum let all his fear out through words, and Minho took a moment to actually understand what was happening. The only thing he knew was that he was being scolded by his husband, who was still holding his hand and ranting at the same time. He was about to cut him off without the will to be aggressive, when his wound stabbed at him to the point it was breathtaking, making him whimper and tighten his grip on the Prince’s fingers.

He immediately heard the latter apologize and putting his hand on his chest, where he felt the shooting pain. Even though it didn’t make it disappear, the sudden cold contact against his warm skin somehow helped him to catch his breath. 

“There, there…” Kibum said with his low voice, devoid of any anger. “Don’t listen to my blather, just breathe… You’ve been injured, my King…”

“I just remember the pain and… when you took it off…” Minho said when he could talk again. “What was it, what happened ?”

“You got shot by an arrow, during the festival… We removed it and you woke up but only for a few seconds and… there is p-poison…”

“Poison…?”

“Yes but we’re going to heal you, I promise. The General and Jonghyun already left, we know what it is and we know how to counter it, they will be back really soon with the antidote and you will be fine. I promise you, please don’t panic, it might hurt sometimes but I have a balm and I will apply it on your wound, did it hurt by the way ? Not the arrow, the balm, did—”

“Slow down, my Prince, slow down.”

“Ah, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. I can feel the pain reducing a bit…” The King smiled. “This will have had a advantage.”

“An… advantage, my King ?”

“Yes… you’re speaking informally to me, and I enjoy it.”

The Prince remained speechless for a few seconds before he felt the warmth on his cheeks, and he smiled as he looked away. He realized he was still kneeling so close to his husband, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable for anything in the world. When he looked up, he found the King looking at him with gentle eyes, filled with gratefulness.

“So… you took care of me ?” The latter asked. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“Forget what I said, of course you didn’t scare me on purpose.” Kibum smiled. “Does it hurt…?”

“It stopped, but I suppose it will come back ? I will make the most of this moment, then.”

“If talking tires you, I can leave you, your mother—”

“No, I want you to stay. I… I like your presence.”

The Prince raised his eyebrows, surprised by the confession that had nothing to do with pure professionalism. Minho wasn’t appreciating his help or his smart thoughts… no, he was liking the fact he was there, next to him. And his eyes couldn’t lie, he was beyond grateful to have him by his side at the moment ; he had never let go of his hand, and was somehow holding on to it as if he feared that Kibum would go away.

The black haired man ended up smiling, his cheekbones tinted with a soft and warm pink color as he softened his gaze. The hand he had on the King’s chest slowly moved to his cheek, holding it like before. They both looked at each other for a few seconds, Kibum ignoring the fight that was occurring inside him ; his reason and his heart were preventing him from doing anything, letting him frozen where he was.

This, until he decided to shut both of them up. The fear he had felt had made him realize how dear he was holding his husband in his heart, and despite he hadn’t been able to ask anything to Jinki about what one calls love… it could wait. His eyes stared at Minho’s before they lowered to glance at his lips, those lips he had always found appealing. He didn’t notice his own body leaning on until his face was way much closer to the other man’s.

“My Prince…?”

The questioning tone didn’t stop Kibum, who chose to ignore it just like he ignored the King’s furrowed eyebrows as he closed the distance between their lips. With one of his hands holding Minho’s, the other one cupping his cheek, he carefully avoided his torso and kissed his lips in the most gentle way.

Him, who had always been passionate, was now showing himself as sweet as honey. Under him, his husband wasn’t moving and he couldn’t even make out his breath as he had taken it away. He didn’t want to hurt him, thus he was moving his lips so softly against his, his heart exploding in his chest. Minho’s lips used to be dry, but it wasn’t the case anymore and Kibum loved their taste. 

If he had listened to himself, he would have kept going, but his instinct told him to slow down. He broke this brief kiss and opened his eyes, moving his head backwards to look at the King. When he saw his widened eyes, he realized what he had just done and gasped, covering his mouth with his hand and letting go of his husband’s, as he backed up on the mattress until his back hit one of the bed’s spots. 

What had he done ?

The horses’ hooves were hitting the ground, launched at full tilt and galloping under the dark night sky. The road was illuminated by the moon and stars, the sky being fortunately clear, as the two cavaliers were making the most of their mounts’ high stamina. Jinki and Jonghyun had left Jinju one hour ago, after they had gathered a few food supplies in a hessian bag and deciding to carry a lot by themselves to not overload their animals.

Thus, the teacher was holding the supplies bag on his back while the soldier had the clothes on on his. He had tied two rolled up makeshift mattresses to his saddle, horizontally to not disturb his stallion. They had brought nothing more, counting on the land itself to provide them water and some wood to lit a fire when they would stop to sleep. They were riding next to each other, Jonghyun’s having the wind in his blonde hair since his ribbon hadn’t remained. 

Soon, they felt their horses’ muscles grow weaker and their breathing sounding more like panting. Even though they hadn’t covered a lot of road, they decided to not risk anything and slow the animals down, letting them walk until they were close to a river. There, they put their feet on the ground and stretched, before they freed the equids from their snaffle and let them enjoy the grass at the foot of a tree. To be sure they wouldn’t run away during the night — even though Jinki assured they wouldn’t — they attached them to the aforesaid tree, without squeezing their neck.

The first things the two men did was to splash their face with the fresh water, before they set camp. In no time, Jinki had gathered a few stones and twigs to form an improvised fireplace, and he was busy trying to light a fire with two stones while Jonghyun was rolling the mattresses out, keeping them flat with stones at the corners. He made the most of the General struggling with his technique to have a short midnight dip in the river.

The water was cold as hell and he regretted this decision during the first seconds, but he eventually moved enough to warm himself up, as he washed his body. He sat with his body immersed until his waist, and used the single soap they had brought to create enough foam in his hands for his upper body. When he heard some noise, he raised his head to see the soldier, leaning against the trunk of a tree at the very edge of the river, arms crossed on his chest and looking at him.

“Enjoying the view ?” The teacher teased, not bothered for all that as he kept washing himself.

“I was wondering how you managed to study such plants when you were busy teaching the Prince.” Jinki replied, avoiding the question. “When did you find time ?”

“I was in a mission. That was when Kibum’s sister fell ill and their father commanded me to travel to Baemyeong and bring more of their purple flower  with a particular scent that would be even stronger if you infuse the petals. It was to give some inhalations to the young Lady so she would somehow… dreaming, so forgetting the pain she was feeling.”

“I see… Were you her physician ?”

“By the Gods, no. I wasn’t qualified at all, but they couldn’t send the actual physician away. Since I knew a bit of plants and was even studying them for my own pleasure, they thought I was the right guy. I’ve been told it worked for a moment, but you know what happened.”

“I’m really sorry, were you close to her ?”

“I was closer to Kibum, since the beginning. She was sweet but knew how to speak up for herself, just like him. We were almost the same age, since I’m four years older than her brother and she was two years older. She kinda… liked me, you know, before she was betrothed to the King.”

“Excuse me, does everyone who looks at you instantly fall in love ? First, the Prince, now you tell me his sister too ?”

“I can’t do anything if I’m handsome.”

“Gross.”

Jinki rolled his eyes and looked away, making his friend laugh. He eventually smiled himself and directed his gaze back towards the teacher. Every time he watched him, he regretted all these bad thoughts he had had about him when there had been this scandal with the Prince. Of course, he had judged a man without knowing with the few informations he had had at the moment, and had only seen Jonghyun as the man the King had been cheated on with.

He knew for a long time that men could have affairs together, and curiously it was even less rare within soldiers. He couldn’t say how many times he had witnessed his father’s recruits or his own during some make out session in the showers or the dormitories. He didn’t really care about it, he hadn’t any problem with that. Thus, seeing the Prince sleeping with a man had not been the hugest shock of his life.

But now that he was thinking about it, Kibum was unconsciously showing some hints about his attraction to the male sex. Jonghyun ? Not at all. It should have troubled him but the General was just curious about it. The only thing he knew thanks to this small talk he had heard between the teacher and the King in the jail, was that this blonde haired man didn’t believe in love and enhanced lust. Once again, he couldn’t have guessed it if he hadn’t caught him in the act.

Thinking about it at that moment, when he actually was looking at Jonghyun’s naked silhouette… took his breath away at the sudden image appearing in his mind. He cleared his throat, drawing the other’s attention.

“Something’s wrong ?” The latter asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Was just pondering some things, nothing important.” Jinki was so quick to reply that it felt anything but innocent, and of course the teacher didn’t believe him. “Don’t ask.”

“Of course I ask.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“You’re no fun.”

With these words, Jonghyun stood up. He had no shame, walking in the water in all his glory and wringing his hair as he stared at the General. The latter swallowed with difficulty and fought the sudden will to scrutinize the teacher’s body from head to toe, holding his gaze. He made out a smirk on the blonde’s lips when he passed by him and walked back to the camp, catching a towel and drying himself. He was offering his back to Jinki, and the soldier had a hard time looking away from the two rounded butt cheeks he had just before his eyes.

He was on a mission, god damnit ! His King was dying on his bed because of a spy he hadn’t been able to catch alive and here he was, going all aroused by his only friend outside the palace. Discreetly, he hit his own forehead to get rid of any dirty thoughts that were trying to invade his mind, and to show how unbothered he was — or pretended to be — he joined Jonghyun and sat on his mattress, starting to take some food out of the hessian bag.

The teacher cocked an eyebrow and smiled, obviously noticing how hard his friend was trying to show himself completely fine. It was an amusing show, because himself knew one thing : if the soldier was to ask him, he would completely confess that he would like to get in his pants. But Jonghyun wasn’t the kind to make a first step, he preferred to play a bit until he would be asked about what he really wanted.

So he let go, enjoying the meat the General had just cooked above the fire and discussing this plant they were looking for. He explained that, just like the black kiss, as he called the flower, was infecting a tree’s sap to somehow aspire life out of it, this gained life was making its petals beautiful. The poison that was killing the King found his antidote in its own consequence : the petals.

Jinki nodded to everything he was told, and they talked about how they would travel as fast as possible while respecting their horses’ stamina and needs. After a few minutes, they both decided they needed to sleep before the sun would wake them up and mark the beginning of their second day of journey. They lied on their mattress and covered themselves with the thin sheets they had brought, the General keeping an eye on the fire and waiting for sleep.

He almost choked when Jonghyun whispered the following words before turning around.

“Next time, try to be less obvious when you check me out.”

next

[cerastes]

Life’s about to get kinda busy, so I’m just writing shit here to get it in order in my head and because, as usual, if it can help or steer someone, all the better. Nothing negative (on the contrary), but still under a Read More so as to not give you a faceful of What Is This, and because maybe some stuff gets a bit heavy.

February was quite atrocious. It’s the first and only time in years that I have a really, really strong relapse, strong enough that I cut my internet off for a few days out of fear of saying something stupid in what was a very unstable period for me, as well as to not overshare. It was bad enough that I resorted to some old coping mechanisms I hoped I’d never have to rely on again, such as spending some seven or so hours walking back forth the hallway of my apartment in complete darkness while just thinking about solutions to problems and doing dumbbell sets. I used to do this quite a bit back in the ol’ depressive suicidal days since it kept my mind busy and it would tire me out so I could go and sleep, but thankfully it only happened once now. When I say “relapse” now, it wasn’t anything suicidal, by the by, just, in this state of immense stress, so don’t worry.

I should be sad about this, and in a way, I am, but the joy more or less overshadows it: I disowned my father. It had to be done. I gave him a lot of chances, I tried my damn hardest so we could get along well, psyched myself up for it so very hard, but in the end, if you pull the toad from muddy water, put it in a pristine pond, and it jumps back into the muddy water, well, whatcha gonna do. Throughout the end of January to the end of February, we had some very severe fights, one of which escalated into a physical confrontation, and since he simply refuses to change and, well, is still the same son of a bitch that made my life so damn miserable that I grabbed my shit and left home when I was 19, it made me very sad, but I had to admit it once and for all: I have no father. Never did. As much as I wanted to believe I had one or could even have one, if we tried hard enough, it really was just wishful thinking. It made me very sad.

But it also was liberating. It was very liberating because no one can say I didn’t try. I tried oh so god damn hard, and it might have been “pointless” from a results point of view, but it definitely wasn’t pointless, overall, because I tried, I didn’t just give up, and that’s all I needed. I can go on for the rest of my life knowing I didn’t give up on it, that I didn’t run away, and that while I failed, it really was beyond me (it takes both sides to accomplish something, after all). A father that threatens his son with a knife is no father at all. That happened many years ago, and it almost happened in February again, but this time, I didn’t give him a chance to get close to the knife rack in the kitchen, oh, no, not again. Hit him right in the chest and away from the kitchen door. Took one warning to dissuade him. I’m bigger and stronger than him, and most importantly, no longer afraid. I made it clear that if he tried to approach the kitchen again, I would not stop until he had lost consciousness. Told him to get out. Never felt such a curious combination of sorrow and pride, to be honest. But look, the reason I am putting this here is that you really cannot live in fear. Not everyone has the same circumstances and options, but if it’s possible for you, and you have someone in your life who is to you what my father was to me, do put a stop to it. Resort to threats of violence, if you really must, to guarantee your safety. If it’s not possible, then try to make it possible in the future, if that’s an option. Pave the way. For me, it was living by myself for years and cutting ties with my family, growing independent and growing as a person through my suicidal depression. For you, it’s gonna be whatever your context demands of you. Don’t give up, please. Don’t let a fucked up family or whatever ruin the future you that could be be happy. Don’t deny your potential happiness.

Well, after that, it was some pretty hard days. He may be a filthy son of a bitch and a piece of shit whose death will be good news when it happens, but he’s still the figure of a ‘father’, and well, it’s hard mourning that. I didn’t really care about the individual as much as the figure in itself, the role, if you will. I wanted a father, but shit, sometimes shit doesn’t pan out, and to try for any longer than I already had was inviting disaster. Half a decade is enough time. I’m 26 years old, turning 27 this year, I can’t spare any more of my time on a bastard that will keep hurting me, so I decided not to. I wish I could say “simple as that”, but well, it’s not ‘simple as that’, bwahaha. I’ll think about him nowadays and get really upset, really angry, really resentful. Sometimes it even ruins my day and I gotta step away from things a little to catch myself. I’ll think about all I endured and that I thought “I am such a bitch for not being able to endure this...”, because that’s how you think when you are on that Depress Express: It’s your fault somehow, and you’re just weak and immature. One of the biggest steps towards my recovery from depression was, and this is gonna sound weird, that I had been done dirty. You have to admit and acknowledge that it’s not you, it’s really others that did you fucking dirty, that you were treated unfairly, that your frustration and sadness are valid, not just you being dumb. I kinda hate the “you’re valid” joke because it rather makes a mockery of a really important word and concept here. Your utter sorrow is valid. I’m not saying you gotta blame things onto others entirely, just, you gotta learn to accept that some stuff really was out of your power, and that you aren’t dumb for thinking otherwise. This more or less was that for me, again: I realized I’d never really have a father. Sucks, but that’s it. I’m still coming to terms with it, but my life really has been richer since the end of February.

After disowning the ol’ fuckhead, I called my mom and my best friend, and, well, did something I think I owed myself: I came clean to them about my depression and my suicidal tendencies. Told them everything. I never had told this to anyone outside the internet, because honestly, I was afraid I was just gonna be shut down with “no you weren’t, you’re lying”, another of the many scars left by the living failure that never was my father (he’d never believe anything I said, verbally demeaning me and telling me to stop lying or exaggerating; if I ever was awkward with any of you by trying to prove or back up anything I said, even something small, well, here’s why I have that habit). It’s silly, now that I write it, but to my surprise, they believed me. My mother was pretty distraught, and apologized over and over (she too had part in the mess that was my childhood, albeit in a very minor was compared to everything else, and in her case, it really was well-meaning, plus, she’s apologized for it) for not noticing and for other things, whereas my best friend cried as I was telling him and, well, that fucked me up because here I had two people that cared so much for me that they would even show it this way. At no point they doubted me or told me I was being a bitch or exaggerated or lying, they took it and believed it without contest or question, and I really, legitimately didn’t expect that. It also was a huge, huge load off of my chest, because, well, I really just wanted to be able to fucking tell someone about that really hard period of my life in which I really just had myself. During those years, I had cut all contact with everyone. Friends, family, just everyone. When I did reestablish contact with people, I was not out of it all yet, but I was functional. Like, I had regained my sense of hygiene, I had sold my gun so I wouldn’t kill myself (I sold it because I loaded it and pointed it at my head twice with the intent to end it; thankfully, I never followed through, but I couldn’t risk it a third time), I had energy to get out of my room and do shit without having to juice myself up on alcohol, etc. They never did see me at my worst, and in both cases, they did want to know about what happened with me during those years in which I outright disappeared. It’s awkward to write about that here because this is entirely from he PoV of someone who, well, vanished for some years, haha. Well, whatever. 

Point is, it was a very healing experience. I felt light as a feather afterwards. Not only did I manage to come clean about that, the people I told it to believed me. I didn’t know how much I needed that. With this, I am trying to say that, if you believe you need to have your suffering acknowledged, go and talk about it to whoever it is you want to share it with. A parent or a best friend, I don’t know, you know who your special someone is, and believe me, they want to know about this, it’s not a drag for them. Because they care about you. Mind you, there’s a difference between only exclusively talking about your pain and suffering 24/7 (no one deserves to be saddled with that shit) and making a special occasion in which you can tell them about this. Take a whole day to do so if you need to, see? Again, I didn’t know I needed this, I just ended up coming clean to them because I just needed to get it off my chest years after the fact, on top of the whole disowning thing, and it helped more than I could’ve imagined. This is my experience, at least.

I also told them of the whole knife situation with my father years ago, something I also really wanted to just stop keeping a secret, which helped a lot.

Mom’s also grown. She understands and respects my hermit tendencies now, and she made it explicit that she does, which has its worth in gold for me. She realizes she’s guilty for that one, and not to be a “Told You So” guy, but well, now that entire family is fragmented to shit. I don’t wanna get into details of that particular mess, but know that I have three half brothers, two step brothers, and one step sister, a countless amount of cousins, uncles, and aunts, and man, that side of the family is just a fucking mess. Just a hot pile of shit. My own mother is kinda a hermit now, ironically, haha. She realized just how rife with drama and deceit over money it all was, and has taken some distance. She also finally understands that her last ex-husband was a fucking idiot, and more importantly, that she was a fucking idiot for keeping around a freeloader and his three kids for so many years, paying it all out of her pocket and ruining her health. She’s told me I am free to visit and all, but well, I can’t just change overnight, nor do I want to change too much in that aspect: I never really was loved much in the family due to being my father’s kid, and after I had enough, I openly antagonized the family since I wasn’t gonna take that lying down. My mom and an aunt are the only exception, but aside from them, that entire burning ship can keep sinking, I want none of it. Hearing my mom say “yeah, you were right, this family fucking sucks lmao” felt really good.

I’m pleased with how far I’ve come, really, and that’s another important point here: You gotta be good to yourself, recognize your growth, and celebrate your victories. Because no one else will. You’re on your own, and if you don’t give yourself that love or kindness, well, who will? And you deserve it. You may not believe me right now, but trust me, you deserve it. You really, really deserve to be able to look at the mirror and not see a disappointment. You really fucking do, believe me. I’ve gone from suicide waiting to happen to working on getting my Magister’s degree. I’ve gone from getting shitfaced daily to having the charisma to influence others. It feels good as fuck, man! You also do this. Start little, aim for little goals, like “showering” or “eating” (if this sounds like a joke, it isn’t; I understand that even these things are immensely difficult when you are depressive, I’ve been there), and then think about how you’ve progressed. You went from having bad hygiene to showering daily. You went from spending all day in bed to getting some food in. Fucking good on you, I personally congratulate you. Today, it’s a shower and a sandwich. Tomorrow, it’s a job and a hobby. The day after, it’s the reflection in your mirror and how proud you are of the person in there and you don’t cry every day anymore. Shine, diamond. You fucking deserve it.

Ever since coming clean about these things and disowning that piece of shit, honestly, my life’s improved. My life’s been good the last three years! I’ve had fun. I’ve matured a lot, I’ve grown a lot. I still have much to learn, absolutely, but I am happy that I’ve learned what I have so far. I’m in that Cloud Nine Freight Train now, I dropped all the tickets to the Depress Express, ‘cause I don’t wanna be in that train anymore. Getting over depression is never as easy as “think positive :)” haha, man, I wish it was, but, but! Thinking positive is a good start. A small step, but a good one, because from thinking positive, you got to acting positive, and living positive, and so on until the depresso days are gone, in the past, and are a thing you write lengthy Read Mores about with the hope of helping others get through their own depressive periods.

You never stop growing. Years ago, I thought I had it all figured out: Just cut people off if they are a negative for you. I thought I had learned a lesson, see? Because I used to be extremely forgiving, and it bit me in the ass, so I figured, do the opposite! Well, that was dumb as shit, too. You can’t do that, either, because then you just burn bridges eternally for the littlest shit, when real maturity is being able to look for options first before taking drastic measures. Balance is important. Don’t go black or white. Correct answers usually lie in the grey or gray. Moderation and all that. I’ve reached out to people I felt I unjustly cut out, for instance. With some, we speak again. With others, we simply buried the hatchet and decided to go in different directions. Of course, there were people who deserved getting cut off, so I haven’t bothered talking to those, nor I think I will, but those, in a way, serve as a good reference point as to what is “tolerable” and “actually actively malicious”. This paragraph is in reference to those posts I see sometimes that are like “if someone is a negative influence, cut them OUT of your life!” I used to be that way and I regret it because I’ve come to realize, especially lately due to something that happened not long ago and the other person’s completely understandable reaction in front of the situation, that it’s something that has planted the seeds of doubt and paranoia in older friends of mine. I’ve no one to blame but myself for those seeds. Actions speak louder than words, so I want to show accordingly that I am not like that anymore. It’s true that negative aspects ought to be cut off of your life, but do understand that you need to have good judgment and not do it just like so. Talk to the other person, let them know that they are being toxic, and tell them you want this to change because you want to remain friends but you can’t with them like this. Of the people I’ve cut off completely years ago, as I said before, with some I talk again, with some, I don’t, and others that I feel truly wronged me, I didn’t even try to contact them again. Well, even thought there’s a group I didn’t even contact again, I still regret not having let them know I was parting ways with them or that they were being dicks to me. Were they wronging me? Absolutely. Do I want to forgive them? No. But that doesn’t mean just cutting them off with no prior notice or even a chance for contact was right in the slightest. I regret that. I don’t want to talk to them again, but I do wish I had talked to them prior, because it’s only human decency. Talk to the other person, please. It’s only fair to them and to yourself. If you must cut them off after, or if it’s talking to them specifically with the intention of cutting them off, talk to them nonetheless. Communicate. You never know what might happen, and even if you have to cut them off, at least you did it the right way.

That’s all I have to say. If you can take something from this, then mission complete. Especially so with anyone depressive and/or suicidal that might be reading this, I hope it helps you in some way. Look at me. You can get out of it. You can beat depression. You can enjoy life again, or start enjoying it at all. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it, and every great achievement start with the small steps. Take the steps. You’ll be glad you did. Remember that you always keep growing, so set objectives to keep an eye on this growth. For example, right now my current objectives are to be less of a hermit, to show my writing in public again, and to embark in creative endeavors with others. Objective three, if you notice, directly correlates to the first and second objectives. Set goals and work towards them, and make them realistic, bucko. No need to aim for a Nobel Prize right off the bat.

You have this shit in the bag. Best of luck!

[thekuroiookami]

KnB (Kagami x Reader): Butterfly on my right shoulder - Part 2

Kuroko glanced over as Kagami anxiously checked his phone for the hundredth time. The taller boy frowned unhappily.

“Are you expecting a call, Kagami-kun?” Kuroko managed to sound only mildly curious.

“Erm, I- it’s not a call exactly, but maybe a message? I don’t know,” he finished glumly.

Kuroko looked suspicious. “Is it important? Like something from the bank, or your parents?”

“No. It’s nothing like that. Never mind, I should have known better than to hope for something like that…It’s been more than a couple of weeks.” He hefted his bag over his shoulder, face downcast. “Come on, let’s go home.”

On the way back, Kagami didn’t notice Kuroko anxiously casting looks his way, too deep in his morose thoughts. When they reached the familiar street corner, Kuroko finally gave up and yanked on Kagami’s hair.

He yelped in surprise. “OW! What was that for?”

Kuroko sighed. “Kagami-kun, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But you should know it will turn out okay. And that you have friends who care.”

Kagami’s expression softened. “I know. Thanks, Kuroko.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday. Take care.”

They bumped fists and parted ways. Just as he entered his apartment, flicking the lights on, Kagami’s cellphone pinged. He almost dropped it in surprise when he saw the message.

You: Sorry I took so long. I know it’s sudden, but are you free tomorrow?

He scrambled to type a response.

Kagami: No worries. What time did you want to meet?

You: About two. There’s a small omurice restaurant near the court you were playing in. I know the jii-san there, so if you wanted to bring your own food, that would be ok.

He made a mental inventory of his fridge. A trip to grocery was definitely in order. He needed mackerel, shallots, milk…wait. What did one even make for a situation like this? More importantly, what did you like to eat? He decided to risk it and just ask you.

K: I know the place. By the way, is there anything you like to eat in particuler?

The anticipation was killing him. What if you said something impossible, like sushi?

You: I’m not very fussy. I don’t like bitter stuff though. Also, I think your autocorrect is malfunctioning.

He let out a small exhale of relief. At least he knew what to avoid now. He focused on the last part of your text.

K: What do you mean? It’s werking fine.

There was a stretch of interminable radio silence. He was growing more and more puzzled until his phone finally buzzed again. He actually dropped it this time when he saw an incoming call. Brushing his damp palms on his shirt, he picked it up.

“H-hello?”

“Kagami-kun.” Your voice washed over him like a cool wave. “I just realized this, but…is it that you can’t spell kanji correctly?”

He froze. His ears began burning, slow and sure. “How…how did you know?”

You paused for a second. “I noticed this already, but you kept adding -desu to everything after you found out I was older. And your spelling is atrocious. Did you not grow up in Japan?”

He flailed a bit, forgetting there was no one to see his explanatory gestures. “It’s just hard to remember, ok? And yeah, I lived in America for a bit. But is this why you called?”

There was a shrug implied in your voice. “It was too troublesome to text, and I thought I might as well enjoy hearing you growl a bit.”

He was fully blushing now. The subject needed to be changed, NOW. “Ahem. So are you sure there’s nothing else you want to eat, ___-san?”

You sounded thoughtful. “Hmm, not really. Just do whatever you do best. I won’t be too mean, I promise.”

Kagami’s reply was dry. “Gee, thanks. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, then.”

“Yeah. I’ll look forward to it.” You hung up, leaving only a dial tone behind you.

He stared at the phone for a few more seconds, chest still echoing with warmth. “Me too.”

XXX

You looked up from your position near the counter as Kagami walked into the tiny restaurant.

“Oh, you’re here.” You took in the bag he was carrying. “That looks like a lot of food.”

The wizened owner of the establishment beamed in recognition. “Oh my, is that you, Kagami-kun? It’s been a while. Are you on a date? How nice!”

Before the embarrassed red-head could sputter out anything, you shook your head at the twinkling old man. “Jii-san, you shouldn’t tease him. We’re having lunch today. As for dating, we’ll see.”

You walked over and tugged on Kagami’s sleeve. “This way. There’s a table in the corner.”

After seating himself, he flashed a quick glance at you. You were gazing out of the window, lost in thought. His heart thumped when your eyes came back to his.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He began unpacking the bag. “Are you hungry?”

“A little. Did you really make all of this?” Your eyes widened at the array of food being set out before you.

He smiled a little, proud at getting a reaction out of you. “I have to cook for myself a lot. Here.” A bento with perfectly made egg-rolls, fried rice and vegetables was set before you.

“Ja, itadakimasu.” You picked up the chopsticks and bit into a roll. You looked up at Kagami, impressed. “It’s really good, Kagami-kun. I’m surprised.”

His face stretched into a happy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So you’ll forgive me after all?”

Your lips kicked up at corners in amusement. “Maybe. You might have doomed yourself with this food though. What if I insist that you make lunch for me forever?”

His cheeks heated up. “I…wouldn’t mind.”

You blinked in surprise, not at all expecting that answer. You decided to change the topic before it got too awkward. “So, are you playing in the Interhigh this summer?”

He brightened. For a while, you listened to him talk cheerfully about his team, Kuroko, the coach and how he was looking forward to the matches.

You interrupted with a question. “So how are you planning to win if everyone knows about Kuroko-kun’s misdirection abilities? Surely they’ll be expecting it.”

He paused midway through a bite. “I don’t know yet, but I have faith in my senpais and Kuroko. We’ll figure something out.”

Your expression turned melancholy. “That sounds nice. To have people you trust so much.”

Kagami hesitated, and spoke cautiously. “Say, I’ve been wondering for a while now…but what was it that you had to stop doing? Was it something like what you were doing at the rink?”

You turned your eyes down, gaze unseeing. “That’s…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. I just asked because you seemed…down.”

You sighed and looked out of the window, gathering your thoughts. Eventually you faced him again.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind telling you. Yes, I used to figure-skate, but I had to stop.”

“Why?” He watched your face carefully as your mouth became a hard line.

“I…a series of unfortunate things happened, I got injured, and long story short, I can’t skate competitively anymore. It would damage my ankle beyond repair if I tried. It’s…hard for me to cope right now.”

Ah. That’s why it looked so familiar. That was Kiyoshi-senpai’s face I saw there.

His voice was rough with sympathy. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that feels.” He really couldn’t bring himself to think about not being able to play basketball ever again. Just sitting still with a sprained leg had been too much.

You smiled, but your eyes were still bleak. “It could be worse. I just need some time to sort my feelings. That’s why it took me a while to contact you. I was waiting on the doctor’s report. And then for a while, I was just…not myself.”

He felt a strange wrench in his chest as the colour leached out of your face. The need to reassure, comfort and protect you was strong, but how was he supposed to stop you from hurting yourself?

Kagami came back to reality when you spoke again. “…ne, would you mind playing for me again?”

He blinked at you, confused. “What?”

“Can I watch you play basketball again? Not now, but another time.”

“S-sure. I’d like it if you came to watch. But I have a request too.” He was proud of himself, managing to get all the words out without giving away how fast his heart was beating.

It was your turn to look curious. “What is it?”

“I want to watch you skate. Like a full routine and stuff. Desu.”

You frowned a little. “You do realize I won’t be participating in competitions anymore, right? And stop treating me so formally. I don’t really need to be addressed as a senpai.”

He set his jaw and looked directly at you. “I know, but if it won’t strain you, I want to see you skate a full routine. That’s my request, ___-san.”

You were mildly surprised.

He didn’t seem like the type to care about much beyond basketball…And he’s still calling me by my last name. At least he’s not doing the other stuff anymore.

“I’ll be doing an exhibition soon, so I can send you an invite if you really want to see me skate. You could bring friends too.”

He jerked his head in a nod. By mutual consent, the lunchboxes were packed up and you both wandered outside, content to walk aimlessly in each other’s company. Kagami was initially a bit uneasy, but soon he settled into the comfort of your companionable silence.

“Thanks for lunch again, Kagami-kun. You know you didn’t really have to do that.”

“I know.” He said it under his breath, gaze directed into the distance.

You considered him for a moment, eyes dark. “It’s strange, we’ve only met twice before this, but I feel so relaxed around you. Like I’ve known you my whole life. I wonder why that is.”

He whipped around in shock. The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. “But I feel anything but relaxed around you!”

There was a moment where you both stared at each other. Then Kagami blushed as per usual and you had to hide a laugh behind your hand. “Pfft. Kagami-kun. You never cease to surprise. Ah well.”

You nudged his arm with an elbow, smiling a little into his face. “I would be worried if you felt too comfortable around me, so keep going.”

He surprised you by pulling you into a tight hug, hiding his face in your hair. At first you stiffened, then when you realized he wasn’t making any other movements, you gradually relaxed into him. Kagami was a blanket of heat and security, his frame reassuringly solid against your softer curves. He mumbled something.

“…it’s not fair, your heart should be racing too.”

Before you could say something to confirm or deny this, Kagami looked up towards the sky in trepidation.

“Don’t tell me it’s…” A gust of wind was all the warning you had before the rain began in earnest. Before long, you were both soaked through, hair dripping and clothes glued to your skin.

He looked at you in a worried grimace. “My apartment is nearby. Do you want to come dry off there?”

You hesitated for a second. He caught on to your line of thought and gestured wildly.

“Ah, I promise not to do anything weird! I wasn’t suggesting anything like that, I swear. If it helps, my mentor is staying with me at the moment, so we won’t be alone.”

The situation wasn’t getting any better, and you figured that this was a calculated risk, why not.

He started as you slipped your fingers between his. He looked back and forth between your linked hands and your face a few times. You tightened your grip, making him draw a breath.

“Lead the way, Kagami-kun.”

His arm was awash with sensation by the time he got home. You were as cheerfully detached as ever, looking around at the tidiness of the room in an admiring fashion. Your eyes lingered on the medal displayed proudly on the cabinet. Kagami stamped down on his self-conciousness and went into his bedroom.

He came back out with a pile of thick, fluffy towels and clothing. “Here, the bath’s that way if you want to…” He trailed off as he took in your appearance.

Oh crap, I didn’t look at her all the way here because I was so embarrassed and I forgot her clothes got wet…

Your skirt, originally a loose flowy thing, now outlined the line of your legs, dipping enticingly. Your thin cotton blouse was equally bad, clinging to every imaginable surface. And was that pink he saw through the white fabric?

He shoved down the memories that thought brought with it when you looked at him questioningly. He shoved the towels in your direction, eyes screwed shut. “Please change quickly!”

You took the fluffy mass and looked down at yourself. “Ah. Be right back.”

A bit later, Kagami had managed to bring his nerves back under control. He stirred in some cream into the steaming mug, wondering what Kuroko would have to say about all of this. Probably that was not a line of thinking he wanted to go down.

He almost dropped the spoon when your voice broke into his reverie. “Is that hot chocolate?”

All the hard won calm scattered like leaves in the wind. Kagami’s jaw became a little slack as he realized he was not immune, at all, to the sight of you in his oversized t-shirt. There was an illegal length of leg showing, toned and slightly scarred. You tugged self-consciously at the edge of the top.

“Please say something, you’re making me nervous.”

He jolted and then felt a rush of heat in his core as he took in your pink face. The combination of his musky scent from the clothes and his abrupt stillness made you jittery. It only increased when he held out the mug to you, face unreadable.

“That will warm you up. Please drink.”

You took the cup reluctantly, still worried about his odd reaction. You set the mug down on the nearby coffee table, sitting down with legs crossed. Kagami sat down with a drink of his own, face still inscrutable.

You reached out and brushed your fingers against his arm. “Kagami-kun, is everything okay?”

In a blink, he turned around, grabbing your wrist. The second instant saw you pinned to the floor before you could process it, one hand still trapped. Your eyes widened as Kagami’s face dipped close enough for you to feel his breath.

“____-san, you shouldn’t touch me without warning. It’s hard enough to control myself. I’ll just hug you again.”

Colour suffused your cheeks. Your senses buzzed with awareness at his proximity. Your free hand stretched out to his face, unable to help yourself. Kagami made a sound somewhere between a groan and a rumble when you lightly touched his lower lip.

His tiger eyes darkened as you traced up his face to cup his cheek. “I don’t mind. Hugs, that is.”

When he possessively gripped your hand, you looked back at him in anticipation. His eyes moved to your mouth, his gaze intense. Your eyes drifted closed, your head tilted up. He moved even closer.

“Taiga, there you are, I’ve been- Oh my.”

Kagami jumped backward like a bullet at the sound of Alex’s voice. You sat up, startled by the crash he caused as he bumped into the table.

He went back to his stammering, red-faced self. “A-Alex, you- WHERE WERE YOU ALL THIS TIME?”

She shrugged, her expression brightening as she laid eyes on you. “Taiga, where have you been hiding this pretty girl? And how long have you been going out?”

You on the other hand, were just bewildered. You were quite tall, but Alex was a veritable Amazon, towering a good three inches over you. Combined with her golden hair, statuesque figure and general presence, it was just intimidating. Also, she wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothes.

Kagami shut his eyes in a long-suffering sigh. “For the love of God, Alex, put some clothes on.”

She shrugged into a hoodie that made the situation slightly more tolerable. “My bad, I was taking a nap. Are you ever going to introduce us, Taiga?”

You inclined your head as Kagami made the introduction, eyes still shut. You ran a considering gaze over Alex when you understood who she was. You weren’t sure if you liked the idea of her walking around half-naked in Kagami’s house, even though he didn’t seem too pleased with it.

You slanted a glance his way. Unbeknownst to you, he was silently cursing Alex’s terrible timing and considering making her Himuro’s or even Aomine’s problem. You had become withdrawn after Alex’s surprise and he could imagine how it looked.

I bet she thinks I’m some sort of sleazy dude that has random women at his house. Why, Alex, why?

Alex, cheerfully oblivious as ever, pulled out a box from the shelf. “Hey Taiga, now that ____-san is here, let’s play this. We finally have enough people to make it interesting.” She held out a box of Jenga.

Kagami tried to refuse, but Alex insisted, saying it was her last couple of days in Japan anyway, and he should indulge her. He finally gave up, turning to you with an apologetic look. You gave him a nod of reassurance and the game started.

An hour later, you and Alex were fast friends and Kagami never wanted to see another wooden block again. Alex stretched her arms above her head, sighing.

“Well, that was fun. It’s getting late though, ____-san needs to go home. Taiga, walk her back.”

Kagami shook himself out of a Jenga-induced haze. “Yeah, sure.”

You excused yourself to change back into your clothes, during which time Alex gave Kagami several significant looks he didn’t understand. She shook her head at his denseness when you returned.

As Kagami moved to put on his shoes, you stopped him. “It’s fine, Kagami-kun, my house isn’t that far. You don’t need to walk me.”

His face was stubborn. “No, I can’t let you go alone.”

You sighed. “You don’t need to. It’s really close. Like…two floors above yours.”

There was a moment of silence all round as Kagami absorbed this fact. Alex began laughing hysterically.

“Really? All this time, you were living upstairs and Taiga never ran into you?”

You shrugged. “I have no idea why. Maybe our schedules are just really different?”

Kagami came forward and gripped your wrist. “I’m still walking you to the elevator, though.”

In front of the lift, he hesitated. You waited until he finally spoke. “So…I had fun today. I hope you did too?”

The hopefulness in his tone made you smile. “I did. Would you like to meet again and spend time together?”

His gaze snapped to yours. “I-If that’s okay with you, yeah.”

“Then I’ll see you later, Kagami Taiga. And don’t worry, I like Alex too.” He flushed, and looked away as the elevator pinged.

You took advantage of his momentary distraction to rise up on your toes and pull his head down a little. His eyes flew open when your lips pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He clapped a hand to the spot, cheeks burning.

You stepped away, slightly blushing as well. “I...will hold you to that promise, Kagami-kun. Show me DVDs of your games the next time I come over.”

He was still speechless.

The next time? Holy…there’s going to be a next time. What will that be like?

He said it just as the doors closed. “Yeah, I promise.” 

[ryanmeft]

A Monster Calls Movie Review

"A Monster Calls" is a film for adults, about childhood. It is the opposite of many such movies. Whereas too many movies about growing up put the hero in the terrible situation of not being top of their class or the girl/boy they like not asking them out soon enough, Conor O'Malley (Lewis MacDougall) has troubles that won't be conveniently resolved by screenplay wish fulfillment. These include a dying mother (Felicity Jones), an absent father (Toby Kebbell), a distant and controlling grandmother (Sigourney Weaver), and a real bully (James Melville), who doesn't just knock his school books down or embarrass him in class but delivers actual, violent beatings that seem uncomfortably close to a different kind of assault. His only escape is in the form of a giant tree monster that seems straight out of pagan myth, voiced and motion-captured by Liam Neeson. Director J.A. Bayona has never made the same story twice, and like "The Orphanage", this is a tale of visual surprises and shocking emotional depth.

The story is based on a novel by Patrick Hess, but it was conceived by Siobhan Dowd after it was clear she would not win a fight with breast cancer. As such, it hits the screen as a primal scream of a film, a protestation against anyone who might insist you meet your challenges without ever venting your spleen about them. Lizzie, Conor's mother, is an artist who insists on continuing to raise her son in the creatively cluttered house he has become accustomed to. Her own mother rather wants to make practical choices for the boy's future. Who is wrong and who is right? In an easy story, the answer would be obvious. Here, both women are a bit controlling in their ways, both want what is best for Conor, and both of these seemingly paradoxical things are true. Lizzie's attitude toward her impending death is that if Conor needs to smash stuff, he ought to do it; when he takes this more literally than his grandmother would prefer, her reaction, which could have made her dull, instead instantly adds layers to her character. His father seems like the kind of person who is fun but unreliable, but then, we receive only hints at what his new life with a new family is like; we can fairly wonder how the story might have played from his point-of-view.

Not a one of these figures is simple, and they are not carefully sculpted by demographic considerations to make us cheer or jeer. Conor is the least simple of all, which is refreshing, because even in modern times when kids know more about the world by third grade than I did by 10th, pop culture still likes to play them as innocent little cherubs whose decisions and feelings are entirely due to outside forces. Yes, Conor's mother is dying, dying an emasculating, protracted sort of death. Yes, he is beaten on the regular by an older boy who (this may only be my personal take) is possibly doing so to hide homosexual stirrings in himself. All of these are reasons for anger, but the anger is in him, a part of his personality. MacDougall, whose debut in the atrocious "Pan" didn't do him (or anyone else) any favors, is here given a rare gift among young actors: the chance to build a real person. Absent is the idea that we are essentially unformed potential until puberty; kids know they have real things to think and feel and say, and there's a quick moment in the film, not focused on, where a doctor passes him up without much notice even though it is his mother that is dying. Perhaps the real reason kids want to grow up so fast isn't because they think adulthood is paradise, but because it hurts when people think you have nothing to say because you haven't hit the required height.

In this, MacDougall's performance bears similarities to those of Quvenzhane Wallis in "Beasts of the Southern Wild", who had all the mood swings of an adult, and Ivana Baquero in "Pan's Labyrinth". This movie, of course, shares more than that in common with Del Toro's modern classic. It is not a fun, light-hearted story. The monster may or may not be truly real, but is certainly real to Conor. He emerges from a Yew tree in the center of a cemetery by a church, and informs the boy he will be told three stories, and then the boy will tell a fourth. These are tales of complex people making complex decisions and I dare not reveal them, for they are some of the most compelling and creative sequences you'll ever see in a film.

The monster was first brought to life by illustrator Jim Kay, whose work I think I detected in some pictures within the film. Here, he, and his stories, are recreated by a team of visual effects artists who must have felt liberated not to be saddled to a cliche fight scene or a bunch of buildings being knocked over by kitchen-accessory robots. Add in the cinematography of Oscar Faura, whose camera frames the creature in terms both majestic and terrifying, and the haunting-yet-uplifting score of Fernando Valezquez, and you have a film whose look and feel will stay with you as you go about your day. Both men have been with Bayona since "The Orphanage", his debut feature, and their comfort working together shows.

What might also stay with you is the film's complex message, which argues against the way we are taught to bottle it up, keep it in, never let hurt show. If you've never had a desire to really, truly hurt someone who hurt you, or to destroy something because no other outlet for your pain was enough, you've had a spectacularly easy life, and may not appreciate what the film has to offer. For anyone who ever looked at those insipid black-background motivational quotes and thought "too bad the world doesn't ever make it that simple", here is a movie of stinging happiness and sweet pain, and I have no doubt you'll understand that contradiction.

Verdict: Must-See

Note: I don’t use stars but here are my possible verdicts. I suppose you could consider each one as adding a star.

Must-See Highly Recommended Recommended Average Not Recommended Avoid like the Plague

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All images are property of the people what own the movie.

[amorremanet]

10, 23, 37, 42

asks for fanfic writers.

10. how do you do your researches?

Depends on what I’m researching, but usually, it starts with Google and/or Wikipedia, unless I have other sources that are immediately on-hand, or that have pointed me to places I should be looking. Sometimes, I’ll go use my grad student access to various academic databases for something that is actually useful.

Then, I filter through the stuff to find contradictions I should look at, find the pieces that are unreliable (e.g., gossip journalism with no demonstrable basis in fact, history about POC that was written by white people, LGBTIQ history written by straight people, things that might have been questionably translated, etc.). And then I sorta have to play it by ear, because this is about when it starts getting more variable, based on what I’m researching and what I’ve found or not.

23. least favorite story you’ve ever written

Do you want me to go chronologically or alphabetically? That being said:

* A lot of my old school, “I wrote this when I was fifteen and so deeply closeted that I was Katniss Everdeen levels of, ‘Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself’ before Katniss was even a character who existed, and I really, really thought I was straight for like a minute. A really extended minute” Wolfstar fics are capital-B BAD.

Like, they’re OOC as fuck, they buy into all of the heterosexist and misogynistic top/bottom bullshit that fandom is still so fond of, I forced myself to write a bunch of fluff that I hated and that is absolutely disgusting to me because it’s: 1. overly derivative of “The Shoebox Project” but with absolutely no nuance or depth (so like, the fanon version of TSBP), because, like every other Wolfstar shipper at the time, I loved it and unfortunately, I subsequently emulated it way too much in my own writing, because I was fifteen and thought the only way to find any kind of a place or friends in fandom was to do the popular thing

Pro-tip, kids at home: this is an absolutely bullshit way to try and find a place or friends in fandom. It just straight up DOES NOT WORK.

All of the happy feels that resemble friendship you get will be totally surface-level at best, and unless you are really socially competent — which I was and still am not — you won’t be able to translate it into any meaningful connections with anyone else, because they won’t really be accepting YOU.

They will be giving you attention and appreciation, but you’ll be more or less the same as everyone else who’s doing The Popular Thing Of The Moment, especially if you’re creating content for a huge ship, like Wolfstar was at the time — or for newer examples, like K*laine, like S*terek, like V*iktuuri, like Skittles after a certain point, like [insert literally any popular dudeslash otp here] — but they won’t be accepting YOU, YOURSELF.

If what you are legitimately into happens to be The Popular Thing, then disregard this and keep doing your thing because you’re doing it in earnest and that means that you actually ARE sharing yourself with people through the content you make, and have an actual chance of finding a fannish place for yourself and finding friends in fandom who actually value you as a person, and not just as a creator of The Popular Thing.

But for everybody who’s just doing The Popular Thing because it happens to be The Popular Thing? No. Stop that. You are better and you deserve so much better than that.

Find what really makes you happy. This is a deceptively simple idea, because finding your bliss as a content creator — or the thing that gives you the most sense of purpose as a content creator, since tbh, finding happiness as a content creator is often going to feel pretty impossible — it’s hard. It takes time. It takes a lot of trial and error, it takes soul-searching, it might very well take skydiving and seeing what flashes through your mind (it didn’t for me but I wouldn’t be very surprised if it did for someone)

—but whatever it takes? Find what kind of content it REALLY makes you happy to create, and then do that. It won’t always be The Popular Thing, and yes, let’s be honest, it will fucking suck to put your heart and soul into something, only to feel like people are just totally ignoring it.

But it’s also more likely to help you find people who genuinely share your interests and who are more likely to click with you (especially out in Rarepair Hell; there aren’t enough of us, so we sometimes end up bonding more tightly), and in the end?

Artistic integrity and truly making something that you can be proud of? That’s worth more than how many kudos or followers you can get by doing The Popular Thing when your heart isn’t actually in it.

This has been the most pretentious, “you’re a star, baby, just be yourself” PSA ever, and now back to our regularly scheduled self-deprecation!

and 2. Those old Wolfstar fluff pieces I wrote are gross to me now because they are so fucking emotionally dishonest — both to how Sirius and Remus are as characters, and to how I felt at the time, which was, “meh, varying degrees of miserable but with no functional idea why this is and even less of an idea of how to articulate it” — because I was so desperate to be accepted somewhere and get validation in the form of people on FF.net liking my terrible fanfic.

Like, every sin you can commit as a writer, I probably committed it with those fics and as such, they’re all completely atrocious. Even the “angsty” ones aren’t worth shit because I copped out and gave most of them either pasted-on happy endings or, “lol i am using canon as an excuse to not do a happy ending but i’m still not actually exploring everything as much as it deserves la la laaaaaa~ (somebody please please love me)” endings. They are all hooooooorrible, period, end of discussion.

There’s exactly one (1) that I wouldn’t burn if it were an actual printed book, and it’s the one that has ‘vaguely genderfluid but I didn’t have that word in my vocabulary in 2005’!Sirius having gender and presentation feels about wearing pretty skirts, and a parallel Hermione/Luna story about soft dapper butch!Hermione having gender and presentation feels about wanting to wear suits that were Totally Not Inspired By The Pics from And Fanart of Tipping The Velvet That I’d Seen Online, Nuh Uh, Nope (except that they totally were).

It’s still pretty, “meh” because I wrote it when I was fifteen, and if I were to rewrite it now, I’d do a looooot of things differently but still. It’s about the only not-horrible thing I ever wrote.

oh wait, actually? There are two (2) that I wouldn’t burn.

The other one, I wrote right after we first got HBP and found out that Remus had been out with the werewolves, on Top Seekrit Spy Missions!!! — it had Albus (who was still assumed by most of us to probably be having it off in secret with McGoogles because DH hadn’t happened yet and brought us G*rindeldore For Real Though) going to his office after handling shit with Harry and the kids and all of the Order members who got injured at the battle at the end of OOTP

Because it was a Wolfstar fic, Remus is naturally in said office.

It’s, like, dawn or getting close to it, and Albus is like, “well fuck shit dammit, how am i supposed to have this conversation with Remus when he’s probably going to clam up and emotionally retreat and try to say that he isn’t hurting about losing Sirius, and i can’t entirely call him on it without invalidating him — which i am especially sensitive to at the moment because Harry just almost called me out on it lol — and it’s not like his and Sirius’s relationship was ever simple like fuck, they have one of the most complicated relationships i’ve ever seen, crap fuck dammit, remus make this easy on both of us and let me comfort you okay”

And Remus is just like, “no, fuck that, dnw”

“i don’t suppose that i can ask what you’re planning to do”

“well i’m homeless again but it’s nbd”

“the order still has headquarters—”

“I AM NOT GOING TO LIVE IN GRIMMAULD PLACE WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF SUGGESTION IS THAT”

“i’m just saying—”

“please just give me some pasted-on condolences and then give me a mission so i don’t have to think about anything”

“that sounds like one of the most emotionally unhealthy ideas that you have ever had this week”

“hey, so, you need somebody to go do reconnaissance/outreach with the werewolves, right”

“um i think that can wait—”

“NO IT CAN’T TELL ME TO GO UNDERGROUND WITH THE OTHER GODDAMN WEREWOLVES”

“…………*dumble-sighs* remus, will you please go underground to do information gathering and outreach with the werewolves :/”

“yes. thank you, professor. i absolutely will.”

“this is still one of your worst ideas ever, jsyk”

“la la la can’t hear you over the sound of you giving me permission to do it la la la”

this is, at best, a really sketchy recreation of it that isn’t historically accurate on the grounds that i’m writing the sketch with the view of canon that i have now — minus the obvious omission of the Truth of Grindeldore — but that’s the basic outline of things

if I were to rewrite the thing now, I would do a lot of things differently

but the original fic isn’t completely without its merits, even if it could be a lot better

* “Close Enough For Rock and Roll” — Absolutely terrible, forever abandoned WIP because it’s absolutely terrible. It’s completely bogus D*estiel cis mpreg that has no reason to exist because it’s TERRIBLE. I cringe so hard whenever I get any FF.net emails about people liking it because…… ew. no. why would you even. I don’t even know you but plz. Love yourself and read something better, you deserve that.

* It is a closely-guarded secret of mine — by which I mean that it’s on my FF.net account — that once upon a time, I wrote D*rarry not once, but twice. They’re patently horrible fics, and there’s a reason for that. Namely: I don’t ship it, I have never shipped it, I have never for the life of me understood why it is A Thing, and I am never, ever GOING to ship it — usually, this would be shooting myself in the foot but it’s been 16+ years and I still don’t ship it, so I think I’m in the clear — but the girl I was in love with at the time dared me to write it, just to see if I could. She had a beautiful smile, but I refused to lose.

The fics are garbage and the only reason I don’t regret them is that nah nah nah nah nah nah, I won.

* It is a less closely-guarded secret of mine — by which I mean that it is up on my AO3 — that I wrote NC-17 S*terek once. I hate it a bit less than everything else I’ve listed here, because it’s not completely awful and I wrote it for a friend who’d been having a shitty time of things, and hey, it made her happy so mission accomplished — but it’s still pretty bad. It has a Derek who’s a darker shade of morally gray than he usually is and unnecessarily special!Stiles and consent that is at best highly questionable (though at least I acknowledge it and tagged it as such).

But mostly I hate it because I don’t actually ship that and have so many better fics but ugh, of course the garbage, poorly-written porn for the fandom’s favorite OTP is one of my most popular fics on AO3. UGGGGGGGGGGGGH.

37. canon or AU?

*shrugs* Both are good, it depends on how I feel today.

42. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

………Can I just say, “yes” and leave it at that, like??? Sometimes one, sometimes the other, but usually, it’s a mix of both?

[bearclarkkent]

Dad-Bod and Tommy’s

So Claire and I are going to be running the London Landmarks Half Marathon (LLHM) on 29th March 2020, this will be the second time that Claire has run this race but it will be my first time. Also to note, Claire will be running her first full marathon a week later! She is an absolute trooper and my inspiration for running this race.

Earlier this year in March, Claire ran the LLHM solo and absolutely smashed it, she ran for the Tommy’s Baby Charity who if you don’t know offer support and fund research around miscarriage. In 2018 we went to them to hopefully get answers to that a whole bunch of horrible questions, most of which we knew the answer to already and one I don’t think will ever be answered.

Why did this happen to us? Why did it happen to us twice? What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? Is this my fault? Why?!?!

I know that Claire has asked herself these questions a lot, and I have too. I think everyone who goes through this does, and the answers are more than likely the same.

We don’t know. We really don’t know. Nothing. Nothing. No. We’re so sorry but we genuinely don’t know.

As genuine as these answers were, and as pained to not be able to answer them as the midwives and doctors seemed, they’re not that helpful and I think they know it.

Now, we are running this race to raise money for Tommy’s and I’ll tell you why. When we were given the news about this first miscarriage, it devastated both of us. I was staring at the screen and I could see that there was no heartbeat, but that’s fine…Kohen was difficult to find sometimes. But the silence from the sonographer was palpable, I assume her face was stoic but I didn’t take my eyes off the screen so I wouldn’t know. Then she apologised and dismissed herself to bring in another more senior sonographer, who within moments confirmed what we already knew at that point. Bear Cub #1 was gone, we were at our 12 week scan, our first chance to see our little cub and they had stopped developing around week 10 and we just didn’t know. I don’t think I spoke until we were out of the hospital, I sure as hell cried a lot and just felt numb. I’ve never truly experienced that feeling before, I’ve had a lot of anaesthetic in my time, and morphine once, but nothing felt like this.

During this time the majority of the focus was on Claire, and for obvious reasons. There were medical procedures that needed taking care of, we needed to keep an eye out for different signs, here’s a pamphlet for if X happens and if it doesn’t here is a pamphlet with a list of choices. It is very easy during this time though, as the father, to feel forgotten and then later in the conversation as an afterthought.

Now don’t get me wrong, Claire needed the focus for all the physical medical questions, but at the same time I was watching a future with my cub disappearing so maybe just ask how I am? Acknowledge that I’m in the room as well, and maybe offer some sort of service to help both parents, not just the mother.

This was pretty much the same the 2nd time around, but I don’t want to think about that time right now because the way we were treated both of us in the hospital that day was nothing short of atrocious. I was completely ignored by one midwife, and…no another day.

However, and to my point, after the 2nd miscarriage we were able to apply to be part of a research program with Tommy’s, they’re currently looking at one of the possible reasons for miscarriage in some women. I knew going in to this that I was probably going to be ignored during this session and that the focus would be on Claire because she was the one having blood tests done and all the other stuff that they did. However, not once did I feel like I was anything less than an equal partner in this grief, not once did I feel like any of the above feelings were to be considered less than Claire’s just because I was not the one carrying the baby. Every time someone asked how Claire was I was immediately asked. That’s because Tommy’s cares, and everyone who works for them seems to care about the work that they’re doing. That is why we’re raising money for this amazing charity, they care and they’re trying to make a difference and find an answer to some of those ridiculous questions, and hopefully one day we’ll be able to accept the answers without blaming ourselves.

1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage! 25% is insane. Some of your friends have probably miscarried in the first trimester without you even knowing. Personally I think it’s a travesty that it’s so hard to talk about this stuff, not just because it’s emotionally difficult but because if you haven’t gone through it there is little to no frame of reference and being the person who doesn’t know can suck as well. You don’t know what to say or you end up saying something stupid, possibly without even realising it. So we don’t talk about it, we just kind of pretend this doesn’t happen and just expect everyone to move on, because it’s awkward.

My grief is real and just because I didn’t get to meet you doesn’t mean I don’t miss you. We never had the chance to say hello, and we were never given the option to say goodbye, and I think that is one of the things that still hurts.

If I’m being honest, and this is something I’ve not shared with a lot of people, I’m scared it will happen again. I’m absolutely petrified of losing another cub and Kohen may be our lightning in a bottle.

So we’re running these races to raise money for Tommy’s as our way of giving back to a charity that has supported us through our most trying time. You can help us help them by sponsoring us at JustGiving (https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/paul-claire-llhm2019) and give us a follow on Instagram @team_space_bears to see our training updates.

To all my friends who have read this and gone through something similar, if you ever need to talk about anything like this and want someone who maybe understands a little part of it, I’m always happy to talk.