#people who go through those surgeries are really brave

[quinns-shadowy-arts]

No More Running

Day 7 of @steddielovemonth‘s Steddie Love Month Event!   Rating: General CW: None Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a romantic  WC: 1,122 Prompt: “Love is what makes you brave” submitted by @sidekick-hero

Note: Guess who came down with a cold. Me. Guess who ignored their many deadlines to write this. Also me. Sorry if this isn’t the best (and is also very late), but I’m pretty sick and can’t breathe out of my nose. I wanted something soft to make me feel better, so I wrote this. Enjoy!

He wasn’t going to run anymore. That’s what Eddie promised himself when he woke up from surgery after being dragged out of the Upside Down. He wasn’t going to run, and he hasn’t. He hadn’t run from Wayne, he hadn’t run from the somehow alive Jim Hopper, he hadn’t run away from the aftermath of Vecna, and he wasn’t going to run from this. 

Eddie’s been developing feelings for Steve since he made that promise. Waking up to learn that the Steve Harrington bridal carried his half dead body out of hell really does something to a guy. Not only that, but Steve is one of the sweetest guys Eddie has ever met. Long gone is the King Steve of Hawkins High; replaced by a loving, caring, and smart man. 

Steve had been there for Eddie through the whole recovery process. He helped with proving that Eddie was innocent, he helped Eddie with bathing, and he helped Eddie with cleaning and wrapping his wounds.

 Steve also helped Eddie with processing the trauma of Spring Break. He held Eddie’s hand and talked him through panic attacks. He stayed awake with Eddie when sleep seemed like a monstrous task; the fear of what he’d dream fraying Eddie’s nerves and keeping him awake. 

Steve was also just an amazing person overall. He had an amazing sense of humor; making Eddie’s ribs ache with the laughter he tugged out of him. Steve was smart, he could read people’s emotions like no other. He knew exactly what Eddie was feeling by looking at him for only a couple of seconds. Steve could pull the real reasons as to why Eddie was quiet out of him when no one else could.

He was easy on the eyes, too. His chestnut hair looked glorious, styled or not. His eyes were kind and genuine; but could turn bitchy in a way that sent heat down Eddie’s spine. Steve’s hands were big and spotted with freckles and moles, like the rest of his body. His skin was sun kissed and hairy. Everything about him made Eddie want to pounce on him. 

Everything about Steve had made Eddie fall head over heels in love with him. Eddie knew about Steve’s woeful dating history; knew about Steve’s failed loves. How people have used Steve for a quick fling or bragging rights before tossing him to the side. 

Eddie wanted to give Steve the world. Eddie wanted to worship Steve the way he deserved; to kneel at his feet and kiss up his body, to whisper praises into his ear, to pump Steve full of love and want, and maybe some other things besides love, too. Eddie wanted to make sure Steve knew that he deserved better than those past flings could have ever provided.

That’s why Eddie is stood outside of Steve’s font door, holding a bouquet of deep, ruby roses. Eddie had put on a black button up and black jeans. His wallet chain still dangled on his hip, complementing the silver of his rings. He had tied his hair up into a bun, leaving some framing pieces around his face. He spent a while on doing himself up, had wanted to look good for Steve.

He leaned forward and knocked at the door. Steve always teased him about not using the doorbell, but Eddie liked knowing that Steve knew it was him at the door based on his knock alone. 

Eddie heard shuffling from behind the door before the sounds of the lock being opened filled his ears. His heart picked up its pace, knowing how close Steve was. Eddie sends out one last prayer, despite not believing in any type of greater being, that Steve felt the same way he did. And if he didn’t, to at least keep Steve in his life for as long as possible. 

The door swung open, Steve stood in the doorway in grey sweatpants and a Hall and Oates T-shirt. He looked absolutely gorgeous like this, soft and relaxed. He had obviously been lounging around before Eddie had come knocking on his door. 

“Hey, Eds!” Steve said, a smile stretched across his face. Eddie’s gut filled with warmth. His heart stuttered with the overwhelming love he felt for this man. 

“Hey, Stevie. I hope I’m not bothering you?” Eddie said. Steve shook his head,

“Nah, man. You’re not bothering me.” Steve looked down,

“What’re those for?” Steve looked back up and made eye contact with Eddie. 

“They’re uh, they’re for you, actually.” Eddie turned his head away. He could feel his face warming up. He held the roses out for Steve to take, hopefully he’d take them. 

Steve grabbed the bouquet, pulling Eddie’s attention back up. Steve’s own cheeks and ears flushed. 

“Why? Is there an event or something that I’m missing?” Steve sounded shy and a bit nervous. Eddie shook his head and smiled at Steve. 

“No, I just wanted to get you flowers. Could I talk to you, actually?” Eddie asked, he shuffled his weight from foot-to-foot as he spoke. He was nervous and scared about confessing his feelings to Steve. He really hoped that this wouldn’t destroy their friendship. 

“Sure, yeah, come inside.” Steve said, stepping away to make space for Eddie. Eddie stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He turned to Steve, straightened his back and gathered all of the courage he could muster. 

“Steve, you’re my best friend. You mean so much to me. You’re so kind and amazing.” Steve’s blush deepened at Eddie’s words, 

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. You’re strong, not just physically, but in every aspect of the word. You are so observant, you can always tell when I’m upset. You can read me like a goddamn book,” Steve chuckled and looked down at the roses in his hand, he was never really good with accepting praise.

“You are my everything, Stevie. And I’ve developed a lot of feelings for you, So, would you like to go out with me?” Eddie finished. Steve’s eyebrows had raised with surprise, his mouth forming an “o” shape. Steve blinked, then his mouth fell back into a smile.  

Steve walked up to Eddie, dropping the hand holding his flowers to the side. He placed his free hand onto Eddie’s face. His thumb swiped over Eddie’s cheek before pulling him in. 

Their lips smooshed together and a fire lit up in Eddie’s chest. Steve’s lips moved against Eddie’s, their lips forming a rhythmic push and pull. After a minute, Steve pulled back. He smiled at Eddie, both their faces still red and warm to the touch. 

“I would love to go out with you, Eddie” Steve whispered against Eddie’s lips. 

Eddie’s so glad he didn’t run from this.

[themculibrary]

Firefighter AU Masterlist

9-1-1 (ao3) - amoree999 steve/bucky N/R, 7k

Summary: Sirens

“Firefighter fell through a two story burning building, unconscious possible concussion and internal bleeding” Paramedic Chi tells the attending nurses who flock the gurney being wheeled into the ER.

“What do We got?” Steve asks jumping into action, “Firefighter hurt on the job fell through a two story burning building Medics said possible concussion and internal bleeding” Danvers says, “Danvers run a line of blood, plasma, vitamin K and platelets” Rogers says, “Jones help me with his uniform” Steve says cutting the turn outs off the firefighter and taking his helmet along with the rest of his gear off. Rogers listens to his heart, lungs, and checks his airways before pressing around on his stomach looking for the source of his internal bleed. “Abdominal bleed left side” He says, “Jacques! Page the attending tell ‘em to open an OR now!” He checks the fireman’s pupillary response, “Both left and right pupils responding normal, CAT scan after he comes out of surgery. Airways are clear but treat him for smoke inhalation anyway, his mask was cracked. MOVE PEOPLE!”

45 minutes earlier….

Burnt Sand (ao3) - maikurosaki steve/bucky E, 30k

Summary: Steve Rogers thinks he's completely fine: he's a great firefighter, he has awesome friends, and his occasional interactions with Bucky Barnes always put a smile on his face. But, in between a rescue mission at work that leaves him shaken and a blast from the past that leaves him reeling, Steve comes to the realization that he needs to be brave and go after what he wants. The problem is he's not sure he can follow this through.

Or: Steve Rogers is a firefighter with commitment issues. Bucky Barnes is an army veteran turned bartender with a different set of issues. Somehow, they make it work.

Engine 12 (ao3) - bethy_277 pepper/tony, hope/scott N/R, 41k

Summary: Tony Stark is a 30something firefighter in New York City, when he saves 6 year old Peter Parker from a fire. The kid loses his parents in the fire, and for some reason, he takes a place in Tony's heart.

Eternal Flame (ao3) - 74days steve/bucky, pepper/tony T, 14k

Summary: There's a bet at the Firehouse that Barton'll go for more than anyone else at the Charity Auction - and Bucky finds himself roped into the whole thing against his will.

It's all fun and games until a mystery phone bidder pays waaaaay to much to get Bucky alone.

He's gonna end up dead in an alleyway because of Barton and his stupid bet.

Everything Happens For A Riesling (ao3) - TaraSoleil G, 1k

Summary: A fire at Stark's mansion leaves firefighters Steve & Bucky trapped.

Gotta Have Some Hot Stuff, Gotta Have Some Love Tonight (ao3) - OriginalCeenote bucky/clint, steve/sam M, 5k

Summary: “We’ve got another call, Barton.”

“Huh?”

“Get back in the rig. Stop staring at Barnes’ ass.” Nat’s voice sounded more amused than impatient, and Clint realized that he was staring. Wasn’t his damned fault that Barnes was wearing those khaki Dickies pants, was it?

I Stare Into the Fire (It Signifies My Desire) (ao3) - laudatenium steve/tony T, 6k

Summary: They keep telling Tony to evacuate. The smoke's too thick, he'll suffocate.

But who's gonna force him to leave? Not the fire captain, no sir.

More than Friends (ao3) - Neverever steve/tony T, 7k

Summary: Deputy Police Chief Tony Stark wonders if there is more to his flirting with the new Fire Chief Steve Rogers. After all, everyone treats them like they come as a matched set. Meanwhile Steve wants to find the serial arsonist in town.

not shy of a spark (ao3) - burning_brighter art (burning_brighter), cable-knit-sweater (cable_knit_sweater) steve/bucky, wanda/sam E, 5k

Summary: EMT Steve doesn't like firefighters. They're arrogant, more muscle than brains, and everyone falls over themselves for these supposed heroes. He really can't stand them, and doesn't understand how his friend and colleague Wanda can be attracted to any of them.

Firefighter Bucky going into an unsafe building with an oxygen tank that's low is just more proof of their stupidity. But when Bucky comes out of the building cradling a tiny cat to his chest, Steve can't help but be a little endeared.

It doesn't change anything though; firefighters are still the worst.

Or that's what he tells himself, even as he goes to check up on the cat later that week.

Definitely to check on the cat, not because he wants to see Bucky again. He certainly isn't disappointed to hear Bucky has transferred to another firehouse.

It's also what he tells himself when Bucky shows up to work at Steve's firehouse the next week. Steve doesn't do firefighters. No matter how cute. Right?

Unfortunately, Bucky turning out to not be as bad as he initially thought - and maybe also his tendency to walking around half naked at work - makes it a little harder for Steve to stick to his story.

Playing with Fire (ao3) - shatteredhourglass bucky/clint E, 5k

Summary: “Three o’clock,” Natasha says and Clint looks automatically, not registering the glint of mischief in her eyes until he’s already looking.

“Why is he stripping,” Clint whispers, outraged.

Bucky Barnes is standing a few meters away from them, tugging his shirt over his head. He doesn’t wax his chest during the winter months, apparently, because there’s a trail of dark hair that Clint really, really wants to get his mouth on. He’s stuck staring like an idiot as Bucky throws his shirt over the door of the firetruck, every inch of his ridiculously hot upper half on display. He can almost feel the brain cells in his head frying just from the sight.

Stoke This Fire In My Heart (ao3) - JustAnotherMarvelGirl wanda/vision T, 1k

Summary: When Wanda gets injured on the job, Vision can't deny his feelings for her anymore.

The best view comes after the hardest climb (ao3) - hopelessly_me bucky/clint T, 1k

Summary: On the ten year anniversary of 9/11, Bucky finally joined his support group in participating in the 911 Tower Challenge.

The Hazards Of Falling In Love (Rescue Me) (ao3) - EmmaLostInWonderland T, 4k

Summary:

“So that’s your name?” Rogers hasn't looked away from him once. His eyes are a piercing blue, and Tony barely manages to keep from squirming under his gaze.

“Yeah. Or Telecommunications Operator Stark, if we’re getting technical about it.”

“Are we?”

Tony tilts his head slightly. “Depends. Can I call you Steve?”

The man grins. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Tony.”

// Tony Stark doesn't date firemen. But he'll make an exception for Battalion Chief Steve Rogers.

The heat of you (ao3) - queerastronaut sam/bucky, background carol/maria M, 15k

Summary: Sam's a paramedic. Bucky's a firefighter. They hate each other's gut but somehow, they keep saving each other's lives. Until one day, the fire gets too big too fast and Sam realizes that he may not hate James Barnes as much as he thought.

the new romeo and juliet (ao3) - imposterhuman bucky/tony G, 2k

Summary: Bucky and Tony weren’t dating, because a firefighter and a detective couldn’t date (never mind that Tony hadn’t slept with anyone else since their thing had started, and he and Bucky hung out with an alarming frequency, and the whole precinct thought that they were an item). It didn't matter how many nights they spent together, how Bucky had a drawer of Tony's things and vice versa, they just couldn't.

It was a classic Romeo and Juliet situation, if Romeo and Juliet actively disliked each other on top of everything.

Trying to Stay Warm (ao3) - freedvmrouge G, 2k

Summary: After waking up from the ice, what if Steve became a firefighter-paramedic instead?

Wildfire (ao3) - 70SecretKinks steve/bucky T, 1k

Summary: No amount of training in the world could prepare rookie firefighter Steve Rogers for the force and fury of a California wildfire. But even a sea of fiery flames paled in comparison to hot-as-hell fellow fireman, Bucky Barnes.

[empressofthewind]

HIIII can i ask 5 and 8 for the fic writer asks? 🥰

hiii 🥰 of course you can!! i'll answer these in reverse order, so i can put the snippet under a cut :-)

8. Is there a story idea in your mental vault that you've never been brave enough to try writing? Is this the year? Can you tell us about it?

Yes!! I have quite a few ideas for Meronia that are based around detective work, but I don't think I really have the skillset to write a compelling and well thought-out mystery. For that reason, I think it's highly unlikely that I'll ever write those ideas, this year or any other, but I'm more than happy to share one! One that I think is a lot of fun is an idea in which Mello is a well-known musical artist and Near is the world's best detective operating under the name 'N'. Mello has a stalker who's been blackmailing him with information about his past, and though Mello is adamant that he can handle it himself, his manager hires Near to track them down. It's not the type of case Near would usually take, but he's a big fan of Mello, so he accepts. Mello is extremely difficult to work with at first because of his resistance to help, but ultimately romance does ensue 🥰

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

My absolute top priority for the year is Loving Can Heal as it's been 7 months since I last updated it, and per my original schedule, it was supposed to be finished in October last year 😭 but since I've already posted a snippet semi-recently (which you can find here), I am instead going to be super self-indulgent and share an excerpt from one of my all-time favourite WIPs I've been working on since August 2022, which I'd really like to get done this year. It's a two-part angsty Hanahaki Disease AU in which Near falls ill, and the surgery to cure the disease would mean losing all his memories of Mello. This is from the scene in which he decides to go through with the surgery (it's technically an excerpt from the outline, but I think the final version will end up looking pretty similar):

Finding the words to articulate his feelings is harder than he anticipated, but once his pen carves the first few clean, cursive letters into the paper, the floodgates are opened. Time slips away from him as he pours his heart and soul out onto the page. His message turns from a simple goodbye note to an essay-length recount of their first meeting, the first time they spoke, the first time Near realised he had feelings for Mello, the moment Near realised he was in love. He spares no details, and by the time the letter is finished, the clock reads 4:03am and the cramp in Near’s wrist is almost as unbearable as the sharp pain in his chest. He can’t mail the letter. It’s far too important of an item to have other people’s hands and eyes on it, even just on the envelope, or to risk having it lost in the mail. He’ll ask Rester to stop by Mello’s apartment in the morning, on the way to the hospital, so he can deliver it himself. He folds up the pages, slips them into an envelope and falls asleep, slumped forward at his desk, with all his memories of Mello lying beside him.

fanfic asks for the new year

[hanzajesthanza]

Who’s your favorite minor witcher book character? that even the fandom doesn’t talk about much, mine is probably Milo “Rusty” Vanderbeck the whole field surgery scene in LOTL sort of felt like a MASH episode , there isn’t any fanart of him and only a few fics on ao3 none that were in English

anon, are you reading my mind, because i just reread LOTL’s chapter 8 this week!

that scene in the medic’s tent is so surprising to me, it’s intensely moving (it does feel like a M*A*S*H episode!) despite the fact that these characters haven’t been granted much pagetime before. but within the very chapter you become so moved and attached to everyone, it all seems so real and the stakes are so high… also the fast pace of the chapter and flashing between scenes, even those outside of the battlefield (for instance, back to melitele’s temple, to nimue’s class) is very engaging. the fucking concept to show a battle from the POV of a medic’s tent which is tending to anyone injured from both sides of the battle is absolutely brilliant.

the part which makes my hair stand on edge (and probably everyone else’s too) is when the vrihedd brigade show up in the medic’s tent and… god, i want to scream every time i think of that, it’s terrifying. and rusty’s defense of his patients and crew, the fact that he bravely stands up to them… ok!! and the ending of the chapter with the epilogue of fates of marti, rusty, iola, and shani… shani being the only one that survives into old age and her saying showing that she never ever forgot that battle…

okay, gushing over, lmao but i just had to say you have very good taste!!

i have a lot of minor favorite characters but my immediate answer is joanna “kenna” selbourne, i just… i find her so interesting for a number of reasons.

firstly, probably what everyone would think she’s interesting for—she’s psionic, she can go into people’s minds and read them and control them, she has this innate level of magic, but at the same time, she’s not formally educated like a sorcerer or sorceress. i find any character that has magical abilities but NOT the formal training of say, aretuza, ban ard, or the academy really interesting. they’re essentially what tissaia was warning of in the poisoned source. it’s interesting to me because joanna is essentially using magic at a low-scale for illegal or at least law-bending means.

which leads me to my next point, that she was alleged to have a hand in the disappearance of the ship the north star but they couldn’t pin anything on her. okay. that is an incredibly interesting backstory?! also the fact that she’s called “kenna” and almost mixes up her names when giving her name in court… that’s also interesting and leaves me wondering why she has this alternate name (it’s not a nickname like “cicada” for instance, it seems like just a name?).

and then, through the clever use of joanna’s POV, tower of the swallow is partially narrated through her court testimony, which is just such a clever device to tell the story through. also the fact that at the end of the book, she uses her powers to control the judge’s mind and get off free (which suggests something about her involvement in the north star’s case…).

i also find her relationships within stefan skellen’s hanza very interesting, as she seems actually eager to please skellen and wants to work her way up to being an officer (ch. 10) and her conversation with chloe stitz (ch. 4) was also interesting, as chloe is skellen’s ex but assures her that it’s not mandatory, just that she likes him, and joanna is not interested in skellen in that way.

and i also really love joanna and neratin’s um… comradery, closeness over time? the way they threaten esterhazy together (ch. 4) and then at the end (ch. 10) like… “i’m a simple woman, neratin… these intrigues are not for me…” (btw i love that she’s not highly-educated, the translation also tries to make this apparent) and the fact that neratin is killed by bonhart and this seems to have affected joanna, as when she is giving her account she is like “but… neratin is dead, so idk if you want to record his name or not…” … i do ship them a little… we need the nblw representation with neratin ceka lol…

and then the fact that joanna leaves skellen’s hanza and SURVIVES, and her testimony takes place a year later. so she’s basically a FINAL GIRL in a horror movie (along with boreas mun).

also the fact that she is described as “tall,” tall women are very interesting in this series as they don’t appear quite often. i mean ciri is 5’9” (which is already tall in my opinion) and she described joanna as tall, so is joanna really tall?! ahhh so cool.

also gordeev gave neratin ceka a bowl cut AAAUGHH

[holisticsoulhealer]

Responsible Actions - A Spiritual Story

It’s a pleasure to lay myself out with great vulnerability in this newsletter. I don’t think there is one of you who hasn’t lived through those times when you feel emotionally, physically, mentally in a wobbly space, where you are completely unsure.

There have been some really on the edge parts of my life, and those were where I had to take the advice of an honest tough love girlfriend, and pull up my big girl panties, to simply get on with it.

I had recently opened a fair size healing center. It had the potential for an open classroom, in the center of it all, with 5 healing rooms off that open space. I had met a young, gifted British healer, who was willing to step in with me, to share that space. I was smart enough to create the whole foundation as a corporation, protecting whatever was going to be generated.

Four months into that commitment, my mother became really, very ill. She was diagnosed with an unusual, aggressive cancerous tumor behind her nasal cavity. They operated within days, removing half of her face. It was a horrendous thing to “face” for her and a complete shock for me. I was managing my time between her healing, doctor visits, small repair surgeries, prosthetic appointments to provide parts to make her face more acceptable publicly. I went to the center, then rushed home, feeding her soup and liquids only, because she had such a challenge to sustain life, then returning to the center to work with clients, to keep the new business moving along.

My British partner wasn’t happy to take on so much, and turned all my part-time staff against me, then her and all of them all quit the same day. I was fully responsible for a large center, all the costs and potential work that could come into it, all by myself. I was also responsible for helping my beloved, brave mum to return to full health. It was a lot!

I took as much action as I could, and was openly promoting my business, pulling in people to rent space and fill the rooms with healers. I was also rushing home every meal time, to feed and comfort my mum as she grew stronger.

I was in full action mode, on the treadmill of business, and being busy in all areas of life. I still had a child at home who needed dropping off, picking up and help with homework.

I didn’t realize how raw and truly vulnerable I was until I received a letter from an attorney, representing the British woman, who was attempting to sue me for the full return of her portion of any and all investment into my new business. I completely lost it, burst into tears and was not consolable. This was my breaking point. My husband, who had been leading his life the same as he always had, suddenly awoke, stepped up and had a good friend of his respond to the legal demands. Thank goodness I had set up the business as a corporation, allowing no room for such frivolous demands to be met.

The British woman went away. My husband was quite the hero at that time for me. My mum got strong and returned to the healing center, and I lived to fight for another beautiful day in the light of a healer.

This for me, was an example of responsible action at a time in life when it was needed the most.  

As always, please share this post with anyone that you feel can benefit from it! Please like us on your social media channels and subscribe to our mailing list if you haven't already done so! We are mailing out a monthly newsletter and a recap each week of our blog posts and interesting tidbits! This is how you can stay informed with what is new in the world of The Holistic Soul Healer!!

Love & Blessings,

Ruth

Get personal with your Angels!! Connect with me and see what they have to say!!

BOOK NOW!

[answeringyourgayquestions]

Hey so uh this might be a lot-

I identify as a cis woman but I feel really uncomfortable about my chest- I’m considering wearing a binder but I’m also worried that I might be “not allowed to” or something idk ;-;

In terms of attraction I find myself attracted to women and feminine men- I’ve been labeling myself as bisexual but is that the right term? I’m not attracted to masculine men at all and I definitely prefer women.

Also is this page dead lol?

First of all, I want to say thank you for reaching out. These are hard questions to go through and you are very brave for facing them head on.

For what I know about binders:

Binders are a great option for anyone who wants to appear more masculine. The problem with them for those that are feminine and/or aren’t planning top surgery is that over time they can compress the tissue and make the breasts less perky. They might not be a great long-term option if you are worried about that. As for being allowed, clothes are for everyone. Cis people seek gender-affirming care alongside trans people, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. I cannot tell you if binders are right for you, but I can encourage you to continue learning and exploring.

For what I know about terminology:

The right label for you is the label that makes you feel the most comfortable. At the end of the day, it is you who has to live your life and you know yourself better than anyone else. If bisexual feels right to you, then it is a good label. If something like gynosexual (where you identify as being attracted to femininity) feels better, then that might be the right label for you. The best label is the one where you feel the most at home.

And this page is not intentionally dead. As you can see, we’re still trying to answer your gay questions, even a few years later. ^_^

- mod RJ

[themomsandthecity]

How Endometriosis Complicates the "Do You Want Kids?" Conversation While Dating

Last month on "The Bachelor," a contestant, Lexi Young, surprised viewers by choosing to prematurely leave the show because she and bachelor Joey Graziadei weren't on the same timeline when it came to children. Young had been open about her endometriosis diagnosis and said at the time, "Because I have endometriosis, having children is going to be a lot more difficult." It was refreshing to see endometriosis be discussed on such a large platform, because the truth of the matter is, for many dating with chronic illness, these conversations are happening all the time. Endometriosis is a painful condition that affects one in nine people with a uterus. It can be described by tissue similar to the lining of the uterus that is found growing in other areas of the body. This condition can cause debilitating pain and infertility. Living with endometriosis can make the day-to-day difficult, not to mention dating. From my own experience, I can say that the brutal reality of living with endo is hard to work into first-date conversations. It's hard to navigate when the right time is to bring up the ins and outs of living with endometriosis. Letting someone see you at your most vulnerable can be really nervewracking. The questions and "what ifs" can quickly become overwhelming: How will they react when I cancel plans because I'm in pain? Will they leave when I tell them sex can be painful? When should I bring up children? I learned it was best to be transparent - early on - about my reality and how endo affects my life. Of course, that may lead to potential heartbreak, but someone who isn't willing to support and accept me fully (endo and all) isn't worth the time and tears. Instead of pitying me, he told me I was brave. When I went on my first date with my now-fiancé, I was terrified and almost canceled. I was having a bad pain day, and none of my cute clothes would fit from bloating in my stomach. I wasn't feeling confident. Luckily, I didn't cancel and instead put on my comfiest dress. He called me beautiful, and the conversation was easy. I felt comfortable with him. Comfortable enough to tell him my story - and instead of pitying me, he told me I was brave. In navigating my illness while being in a relationship, the biggest thing I can emphasize is communication. Before I started staying over at my fiancé's house, I made him aware of what my "bad nights" can look like and how they can affect me the next day. Those days I'm so run down I can barely leave bed. My pain makes me vomit and, at times, pass out. The first few times I let him see that side of my life, he made me feel at ease. He would comfort me and offer ways to help me, he would heat up my heat pack for me, and he would bring me water and painkillers. Being with him on those bad days that I'm usually alone made them that little bit easier to tolerate. Not once did I feel embarrassed or guilty about our days spent in bed. That was one of the moments I knew he was the boy I wanted to marry. A year into our relationship, I underwent a second surgery for endo. These surgeries involve removing endometriosis tissue from organs and, in my case, separating organs that have been stuck together from such intense tissue growth. Sitting in the car after my specialist appointment, I looked at him and immediately burst into tears. He could tell the news I had just received wasn't good. My endometriosis was quite advanced, and it had attached itself to most of my pelvic organs and caused some horrific damage. That day in the car that I showed him my surgery pictures, he couldn't understand what they meant, so through tears, I told him, "Kids, I might not be able to have kids. I am so sorry." We had already spoken about kids - how we both grew up in big families and wanted that for ourselves. At that moment, I felt like I'd let him down, that it was the last straw, the final thing that would make me "too much." Instead, he held my hand and he… https://www.popsugar.com/family/endometriosis-dating-family-planning-essay-49343775?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[the-curated-woman]

I can't help but consider our modern relationship with social media and digital content as one of the keystone elements in the surge of identities that people (especially young people) are having. I was lucky. I remember what life was like before computers and phones became everyday objects. And even when they started to become the norm, my family still took a while to join the boom. We didn't have a lot of extra money to throw around for things that weren't yet necessary.

Sometimes I tell people, "I can't imagin being a kid or a teenager now." I can't imagine having to curate an internet image, aesthetisizing every moment of my life for clout. The smoke and mirrors of it all, how exhausting.

And then the porn. Always just a click away, even on mainstream social networks and sites. Children seeing oversexualized people, becoming desensitized to what used to be in the centerfold of dirty magazines, all which now pops up on their daily feed. Influencers advertising makeup, clothes, sex toys, substances. Through the screen they act like your friend, through the screen kids don't see the paycheck, the script.

Their brains are still developing, for crying out loud, and we're allowing them access to a world we adults aren't even able to handle! And then these things are telling kids to define themselves, quickly now, so the algorithm can give them what they like.

So of course children and teens are getting wrapped up in the Barnum effect of it all. They're inherently curious - I know I was. But before, you'd look things up in books, or ask a friend or family member. There was a physicality to it all. If you wanted to look up something naughty, perhaps, and you were too ashamed to ask someone you knew, well then you'd better be willing to brave the library, the looks of the librarian if you needed help. Shame could be a factor in keeping some people from going too deep, too far into something that's hard to come back from.

But those physical checks and balances - asking someone, going to a place of knowledge - helped us keep each other accountable, and look out for each other if something was up, have conversations if something was wrong or uncomfortable. There was a collective, in a sense. Now, the collective is the world wide web, and it fits right in the palm of your hand. Now, you have kids seeing posts from their favorite celebrities, their favorite bloggers, their peers talking about identity, kinks, politics, anatomy, language, the whole package. Now, you have kids reading tweets (or Xs or whatever nonsense it's called now) telling them if they feel something then they ~are~ something. Now, you have kids barely in their teens coming out with pronouns and wanted surgeries to their parents with no warning, the children having done all their identity homework via the internet.

I helped a customer at my job one day who didn't want anything, didn't need to use our services. He just wanted to come in and update his name on his store account. "I'm really excited," he explained to me, playing with the string of his hoodie, his light scruff of a beard a little bed-heady. "I've thought really hard about what I want my name to be, since I'm nonbionary, and I've finally got it." He told me his new name (still masculine, but referencing a favorite author of his) and then rattled off his list of all the other places he had to go and change it. He was seventeen, maybe eighteen, and couldn't wait to legally change his name on his learner's permit. He seemed sweet, albeit a little weird, and I could tell he was waiting for a reaction, a congratulations or an offended look. Any attention to affirm his choice. Sorry, his "truth."

Kids are creative. They create stories with toys, ideas, inanimate objects. When the home computer came along, kids created avatars. Naming them is fun, important - especially if someone other than you is going to see them. One word or short phrase is supposed to encapsulate who you are. (I laugh at how long it took me to come up with my first Tumblr username.) But then the digital became too personal, the lines blurred, and suddenly there's clout in naming yourself.

But in embracing their "true selves," their "authenticity," kids today are disassociated from themselves more than ever before. Outside of who technology tells them they are, what else do they have? If the internet stopped telling them who they were, what could they become?

I'm thankful that I grew up without the internet holding my hand. I was a very nonconforming girl: cargo shorts were my uniform, I refused to wear makeup or shave, I liked collecting bugs and playing in the dirt. If I had grown up today, I'd have changed my pronouns at least, if not opted into a full transition. But instead of spending my teenage years watching short videos on qu**r theory takes and how 2+2 can equal 5, (shoutout to Foucault, the enemy of logical thought) I spent my time playing with friends, creating things with too much paint and glitter, reading any book I could get my hands on. And the thing I love is that nearly every hobby that was important to me as a child is still important to me in my adulthood, is a healthy escape from the mundanity of work and obligations.

But what if what was important to me as a child was intangible? What if it was my identity? Like I said earlier about curating the perfect internet profile, this is simultaneously too much pressure for young folks AND it's far too narcissistic. Stop looking in the black mirror of a phone screen and start looking for the things that make you genuinely happy and curious. You'll be healthier for it.

[genuflecting]

I've had a bunch of things circling around my head for days and they don't seem to want to leave on their own, so I'm going to try writing them out in a long post that no one had to read, but if you're nosy like me you're welcome to and I promise the bad vibes can't past it past the readmore, you can check them at the door

the guy I like wasn't at the party I went to last weekend and no one there even had his contact info (I got brave and asked the person who I thought knew him but it turned out to be a dead end) so now I have to wait for the group's every other month party and hope he turns up to that, which will probably be a Halloween party so that'll be an interesting extra element. I've just been so hung up on it cause my attraction to people in real life is so incredibly rare and I want to act on this, but it feels so out of my control and if I'm this sad at not seeing him for two months I'm gonna be REALLY really sad if four months later I still don't see him. I wish my taste in people was broader so I could just. not feel so lonely!

I think the loneliness/striking out has mutated alongside dysphoria into me feeling extremely dysmorphic and sad lately, which I like a lot less than my hopeful new outlook I had for the few months before that

I'm feeling very tired of being misgendered absolutely constantly in public, and especially of feeling like my mom just sees me as "woman lite". I almost wish she just saw me as a man, but I specifically don't identify with a binary gender because I don't want people to lug in all their gendered baggage and assumptions and bury me in them, so instead I'm stuck with not being seen as a man at all.

The dysphoria seems to have been fanned by not seeing that guy at the party and feeling insecure about that, but especially by the interaction at said event where (someone who is also nonbinary) made weird and gross biologically essentialist comments (cited in another post, man I wish tumblr had citations honestly, I know I'm a fucking nerd but how fun would that be, anyway). I went through a period of feeling way more confident in my body and how my gender (and sex, frankly) are congruous with my identity and that I can be a gay guy who isn't questioned or dissonant, and that just felt so regressed by that interaction and my doubts of how people perceive me and, by extension of anxiety, how the guy I like might see me.

Seeing a post where someone in the comments conflated dom/sub with top/bottom and also made the most "clearly hasn't had sex, doesn't know what they're talking about" reference to being a "top in real life, bottom in bed" and vice versa and I just wish I could make people stop using all of those terms if they don't know what they mean. oh, you're anally receptive in your daily non-sexual life? No wonder being on tumblr set me back with my understanding of sex and relationships, people just talk about it with zero grounding in reality

Then seeing a guy refer to "transition scars" in a piece of art's replies (where the cis male artist gave a character very tired vine patterns in place of top surgery scars) and then I went to the commenter's blog and his bio said that he's distrustful of fandoms predominantly made up of women fetishizing m/m ships, ie all of them, and I'm just like Man, way to do one of the worst things you can do for trans men while claiming the most superficial support. the way I still have to reassure myself that that's not what I'm doing when I experience attraction to another man as a man, because of fear mongering arguments like that.

Lastly in the vein of maybe I should stop opening the notes of posts at all, is seeing someone claim that the "mauraders fandom" is a "totally separate" fandom from the hateful wizard books and not related, thus they shouldn't be accused of promoting transphobic work, and someone had to break down for them exactly how stupid that argument is. The fact that they're apparently telling themselves that explains why the acquaintance I know who I already wasn't comfortable being friends with because she still goes to Catholic church with her family was comfortable referencing reading mauraders fanfiction while knowing she was in front of a trans person. It was just so much to realize the fact that this is just a continuation of the same bullshit people have been spewing for years about death of the author, in front of my trans literature major ass who has actually read roland barthes and knows that's not even kinda what the essay is about.

Anyways I'm tired, trans, and angry, and I would just like some critical thought, gender affirmation, and gay sex as a treat.

[thisisformediaclass]

Interview with Brandon Teena

Mr. Brandon, how do you feel about how society is currently treating trans and other LGBTQ+ youth?

I think that we’ve definitely grown. There is more of an understanding in the general public for those who are like me and are conflicted with who they are and what they identify as. It’s really heartwarming to see a bigger acceptance from everyday people. However, there are still many challenges and hate being spread. I believe that currently many states are passing bills that are harmful to trans people, especially kids. 

So you believe that there is still a long way to go?

Absolutely. There is still so much hate and violence targeted towards those like me all because of their identity. We won’t be accepted by everyone, I know that, but there should still be laws and things to protect us. We’re still people at the end of the day. People with feelings and lives. 

You’ve experienced this hate and violence yourself, right?

Unfortunately, yes. Back when I was younger, it was harder to explain to people how I felt. I would try so hard to hide my femininity. I am a man, just with the wrong parts. I was born, well, what’s now called intersex, where I was born with both sets of genitals. And I was treated like some sort of monster. To them I wasn’t human. The only ones who really supported me at the time were my cousin, who I lived with for a short while, and my partner, Lana. In fact, it was her own friends and family that rejected me and did all those horrible things, but she never did. 

Did Lana accept you for who you are?

Yes. She didn’t care about what I was or what gender I was. She loved me for who I was and I thank her for that. It felt nice to be cared about by someone who knew the truth. Someone I didn’t have to hide from. She became everything to me. We still live together now and I’m a lucky man to have someone like her stick by me all these years. 

You stated something before about the anti-trans bills being passed in some states. What are your opinions on that?

Well, they’re just awful. They were made by a lack of empathy and understanding. See, throughout my whole life one question hasn’t been answered for me. Why do they hate us so much? What did we ever do to them? We’ve been built on these standards of men will be men and women will be women, I don’t think one little change would hurt anybody. All they’ve done is kill us and they’re still killing us! We have to suffer from death threats and threats of violence at such a young age that we end up killing ourselves! We may be more accepted by friends and family but not by the country itself. In my own state of Tennessee they’re passing these bills.  

Do you feel safe living in Tennessee now?

No I don’t. They’ve banned health treatment for trans youth and for gender surgeries. These are children! Children that you are subjecting to hate by their own government that’s supposed to protect them! I feel terrible for them! I know what it was like to be fought and discriminated against and I understand the pain that they are going through. I’m glad to see that they are standing up for themselves and protesting though. I believe that it’s very brave of them, especially at a young age. 

They’ve also passed bills banning drag shows in public spaces in Tennessee due to them being “harmful to minors”. 

I don’t believe drag shows are inappropriate at all. I’ve seen many drag shows be friendly to kids when they know that they’re there. Drag is some of these people’s jobs and it's being taken away from them. It’s a passion, y’know. A way to express yourself. 

It’s sad what’s happening.

Yes, it certainly is. 

I know you’ve said you’ve experienced hate crimes and such in your younger days, do you still have them now?

I’ve been threatened a few times. You start to just become numb to it, y’know (Laughs). They start to get a bit redundant after a while. Sometimes I feel sorry for them. They have nothing better to do with their lives so they come after me and mine. I’ve experienced a lot of hate during this time, but also a lot of love, too. Love that I wouldn’t get from the majority back then. That’s why I feel like we’ve gotten better despite all the setbacks. Compared to the 90s, there’s a lot more love going around. And I’m very lucky and glad that I’ve been able to live to see it. It makes me believe that there really is good in people. That we can do something if we really want to.   

What do you think should be done in order to keep this love going around?

I believe that we should see transgender as a normal way of life. It’s something that can happen and we should accept that. We should have a world where people shouldn’t be afraid to express themselves and should have the resources to find their identity and gender. I also think that more teaching of the subject should be involved. Kids aren’t stupid. They know when something feels wrong with them. They know that they should be allowed to fix it.

Do you have anything you would like to say to those who are having trouble with gender identity or their identity in general that may be listening or reading this?

Don’t give up. Not everyone out there will accept you for who you are, but I guarantee that there is someone who will. You just have to put in the effort to find them, or maybe they’ll find you. Life is funny like that. Things will get better. Know that there are people fighting for you. And if you can’t seem to find someone who will accept you for who you are, know that I accept you. And I will fight for you. 

“Boys Don't Cry (1999 Film).” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 13 Mar. 2023, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boys_Don%27t_Cry_(1999_film)#:~:text=Background,-Further%20information%3A%20Brandon&text=Brandon%20Teena%20was%20a%20trans,1993%2C%20when%20he%20was%2021. 

Brown, Melissa. “Gov. Bill Lee Signs Ban on Gender-Affirming Care for Minors, Drag Restrictions into Law.” The Tennessean, Nashville Tennessean, 3 Mar. 2023, www.tennessean.com/story/news/politics/2023/03/02/tennessee-governor-bill-lee-signs-anti-trans-bill-drag-restrictions-into-law/69937336007/. 

“Film Interviews.” The Talks, https://the-talks.com/interviews/film/actor/. 

[write-and-buried]

Celestial Navigation

Part 8 - Waning Crescent

Summary; A little ahead of schedule...

Warnings; Drug use (marijuana and ecstasy), oral sex (f!receiving) squirting, sloppy sex, PinV sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, dirty talk

Authors Note; my endless love, thank you and joy to everyone whoo has supported this story and given it some love, it truly means the world to me, and I cannot say thank you enough. Special thanks go to @the-ginger-hedge-witch, @radiowallet, @astroboots & @jazzelsaur for being the best cheer-whores a writer could ask for <3

See you on the next one! <3

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[prev]

Unemployment doesn’t suit you. It takes nine days of semi-seclusion in Dieter’s apartment before the itch of uselessness settles under your skin. The anxiety in your twitching limbs as you check your bank account, feeling only the briefest relief at your savings before the cycle starts again. 

You’re sure your career in financial consulting is finished. Your name tarnished across any of the blue-chip firms you once admired. There’s nothing left for you there, the bridges burned to ashes as you watch each former co-worker disappear from your Instagram following list. You rearrange his apartment, arrange it back, organise the canvases stacked like textbooks in the corner, scrape dried paint from the hardwood.  

You brave trips into the café, fearful of wide eyes as you settle yourself into the squashy mustard armchair and pull out your journal. It’s thick, bound now with a rubber band you suppose you stole from your former office, its pocket bulging with phone numbers and email addresses left in the weeks since, people asking for help.  

Susan is the first one brave enough. She spends half an hour inching towards you, her eyes on her phone as they dart anywhere but your face, the café still bustling and busy. The unexpected whirlwind of press has died off completely, but some of those who joined the fray have kept coming back, tempted in by the swans on Owen’s latte’s, or Molly’s peculiar brand of eye-rolling customer service.  

It's busy most days now, both of them leaving yawning with a shout up the stairs. Molly wants more employees, Dieter has made it clear he doesn’t care what she does, as long as he doesn’t have to look at a spreadsheet. Owen’s asking some friends.  

“C-can I buy you a cup of coffee?” Susan stammers, breaking you out of the neat lines in your journal, the scratching out of deadlines for projects you no longer remember the purpose of. 

“She doesn’t pay here” Molly shouts, tapping the sign with a menacing finger. 

“It’s fine Molly” you call back, half exasperated and half warmed by her protectiveness. This woman, middle aged, with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun, doesn’t look like the type to suddenly produce a poster of Dieter’s youth and beg for a signature.  

“I’m sorry” She says, twisting uncomfortably. “I don’t really know, I mean, I know, but I don’t know why I’m sitting down here. Um. I was wondering if you could help me?” 

“What with?” You ask, watching as she opens her phone, and begins scrolling through the huge amount of missed calls. 

“They just keep calling. And I can’t find the paperwork, but that’s not who I owe it to. I’m on a fixed income and I can’t afford to…” 

“Hang on. What is this for?” 

“My youngest, Tommy, when he was born, I had some complications after that required surgery. I, um, I didn’t pay the bill, I couldn’t afford it after insurance. I moved into the city, and they stopped calling, but now they’ve started up again” 

“How old is Tommy now?” 

“He’s eight. He’s in third grade and he just adores bugs. I can't get him out of the back yard usually, even though it's getting cold he still wants to watch what the beetles and the flies are doing, even though I’ve tried to explain they’re going to sleep for the winter” She smiles proudly as she talks about him. 

“And when did they start coming after you?” 

“Six months ago, the phone calls started” 

“Scumbags. Ok. Susan, here’s what has likely happened. Your medical debt got sold. The company you owed it to, bundled it together into a portfolio and then sold it on to someone else, who has probably sold it to someone else and so on until they try to collect it”  

“They can do that?” 

“Sure. Debt is an asset, its money owed so it’s a line in a spreadsheet. Have you made any payments on this debt since they started coming for you?” 

“No” 

“Ok, that’s really good news. The statute of limitations on this is like six years. So, you don’t owe them this. What we’re gonna do is write them a letter, asking them to prove you owe it. That will usually get them to back off, but if that doesn’t work, we’re going to tell them to only contact you in writing, if they’re going to proceed with litigation. I’m also going to give you the info for the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau if they continue, and you can get in touch with them to let them know you’re being harassed by debtors for Zombie debt”  

“They have a name for this?” 

“There’s a name for everything, sure” You shrug, looking over the phone records. They’ve called Susan four times a day for six months, sometimes before seven am. “You shouldn’t have to pay this, I don’t think. But I’m also not a financial lawyer, so if you can, get in touch with one of those too”  

“They’re going to call again”  

“I know, and you’re going to answer, and say that any further correspondence will be done in writing, and they must prove you owe the debt. If they get aggressive, or are an ass about it, hang up the phone. You’re not in trouble here, you haven’t done anything wrong”  

“Even though I didn’t pay it in the first place?”  

“That’s a different conversation all together. But no, I don’t think you have. Your insurance paid most of it, and you stated at the time you were unable to pay the rest. They were happy to sell your debt on, so the way I see it, they got paid anyway. It’s probably been passed around until it ended up in this companies hands. They try to scare you into starting to pay it all over again, which resets the statute of limitations on the debt. So long as you haven’t paid them anything, then I think you’re in the clear” 

“Thank you… I was… I came here after I saw that article, and I just, couldn’t figure out where to go for help, and I thought maybe, you could help me with a budget or something” 

You smile, watching the way her body relaxes as she takes your words in. Carefully you write down a few phone numbers for her, as well as the website for Consumer Protection. Tearing the page out of your journal, you give it to her with a smile. She stays to talk with you a little longer, before leaving to pick up Tommy and her other children from school.  

The other receipts are still stuffed in the pocket. You pull them free and begin to organise them, listing them by name and number, any other information they have given in a column on the side. You feel a smile twitch at the corner of your lips as Owen brings you a muffin, the napkin wrapped around it stained from the blueberries.  

“Magnum just texted” he says in a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Are we really still doing this?” you ask, rolling your eyes. Owen grins, throwing up his hands as he shrugs 

“He insisted” 

With a sigh, you unfold your limbs from the chair, feeling them groan in protest as you stand for the first time in hours, rebinding your journal to carry upstairs as you shake your head.  

“Why Magnum?” you ask, feeling the chill of Dieter’s apartment as you see the open balcony. Dieter has dragged a canvas onto the icy surface, his broad back facing you as he paints something you can't make out. 

“If you have to ask Joanie” Eric replies “You don’t want to know.” 

Eric might be the only other thing keeping your restlessness at bay. He’s been sequestered in the same apartment with you, growing out his facial hair as he watches you with amusement, helping you move furniture, cooking in Dieter’s neglected kitchen, sleeping on the couch.  

He’s nothing like what you expected a movie star would be. He cooks, lavish dinners with ingredients you know cost a fortune, eaten with bamboo disposable cutlery over the sink. He brought two outfits in a duffel bag, a tiny jar of ecstasy pills, three movie scripts and a stack of cash. He flew privately to New York, using an alias to Uber to the café, Owen letting him up without question as he greeted him.  

You can understand why they were so popular together. Their chaos matches each other. Dieter’s tornado with Eric’s tsunami, destruction in a force of nature. They argue and bicker like only old friends can, the easy trust and grace of friendship that comes with years of knowing each other. They can sit in total silence as Dieter paints and Eric reads and annotates scripts in spiky letters.  

It would be easy to be jealous of them. The comfort and familiarity of each other belayed from years of shared company. But Eric pulled you into a longer hug than Dieter’s when he met you, and kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he asked you a million questions. He brought his own list of movies and sat next to you on the couch as you watched them. 

Now he’s brandishing a box of hair dye at you, pleading with you to help him because he always misses the back when he does it himself. It's an electric blue, bright and eye catching, and you eye the colour sceptically as you shake it to mix the bottle.  

“Will this work?” you ask, tilting his head over the sink. 

“Works every time” he says with a wink, closing his eyes as you scrub the blue dye into his scalp. “I grow out the beard, post on my socials that I’m spending the holidays on some kind of spiritual retreat and come back looking like a well refreshed well rounded Hollywood dick. Go full Leto with it y’know?”  

“But you actually come here?” 

“Usually, yeah. Few years I’ve spent overseas, sometimes D comes too.” 

“I didn’t know” 

“Now you do. Want to come to the Maldives next year? The blue of their ocean really is no bullshit, and the fish are these insane colours” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to… I mean” 

“Oh Joanie” Eric sighs, standing and stamping a kiss to your cheek. “You still don’t believe it do you” 

He leaves you to scrub the dye from under your fingernails, wondering exactly what he meant.  

* 

Dieter gets lost in canvas sometimes. Tied up in detail and knotted with ideas. The light changes as he paints, he hears the city roar and deafen as the day changes to evening changes to night. It’s getting colder now, icing in the mornings, frost on the windows as he squints in the low lighting. You bought him a pair of reading glasses from the drug store, they're hanging from his shirt. 

You went out with Eric tonight, Molly and Owen dragging you to a true New York Dive for pretzels and cheap beer. When he couldn’t put the paintbrush down you had kissed his cheek and wished him luck as you left.  

He knows the feeling growing in his chest. Can trace its shape and form with careful brush strokes. He’s throwing oil on this canvas to stop it spewing from his mouth. He’s glad Eric’s here. Glad for his lanky form unspooled on his couch with a highlighter and a pen, annotating scripts. It makes it easier, to not lose himself in the luxury of having so much of you, of gorging himself full on your laugh and accidentally letting it slip before you’re ready to hear it. 

You’re so close though. He can see it in the way you reach for him, feels it in the contented sigh when he joins you in bed. The little smile you shoot him in the mornings, when he kisses you goodbye before you disappear down the stairs. Its somewhere in your throat, nestled just between your vocal cords, a tuning fork waiting to be struck.  

Eric is having far too much fun with it.  

“Oh, you’re a fucking mess” was all he said the first chance he got, you in the bathroom as he cooked in the kitchen. “Told her yet?” 

“She knows” 

“She psychic too? Interesting” 

“She knows.” He repeated firmly.  

“Your dicks not that impressive Bravo” 

“We both know that’s a lie. She’s been through a lot these last few weeks, finding out I’ve got a moron for a best friend was probably the nail in the coffin, I just want her to be happy” 

“And telling her you’re “fucked-up-Mr-Darcy” in love with her is going to make her unhappy” 

“No… I just… fuck you” 

Eric laughed loud enough to have your eyebrows raise when you came back into the room. Like a good friend he kept his mouth shut. Dieter still dipped his hand in lukewarm water overnight anyway.  

The moon isn’t bright enough to paint by tonight. The sky too clouded over with the threat of snow to see the stars. The tv is casting a soft glow, the menu screen tinging the whole room blue as he puts his brushes back for the evening, feeling a cramp forming in his wrist.  

It’s after two am. Eric is asleep, feet dangling over the edge of the couch. You’re asleep too. He has a vague memory of you telling him goodnight, a brighter flash of the taste of your mouth as he kissed you, your hands on his forearms to stop him smearing paint on you.  

Your face is pressed into his pillow, your leg hitched free beneath the heavy blankets he knows you like, your soft skin in the light sending a zap of longing through him as he watches a lock of your hair be caught on the wind of your breath.  

You’re not there yet, your hesitancy towards physical affection only just beginning to shed in Eric’s presence. You know about the history, the long years of no privacy and no filters, the late nights in Rome, in Paris, where they ran the streets as lost boys and ended up in bed together. But you’ve stopped short of allowing him to be as tactile as he wants to be, as he needs to be with you so close all the time. 

He's kicking Eric out of the apartment tomorrow, telling him to come up with some plan or some lie to give him a few hours alone with you. It's been too long since he heard the way you whimper, felt the tremble of your skin beneath his hands.  

He wipes them on his sweats, getting most of the still wet paint off as he feels his cock twitch in his sweats, interest coursing through his groin as you shift, as your hand reaches for the cold spot on the bed he would usually be occupying, if this canvas wasn’t occupying him instead.  

The way you taste. Greedy swipes with his fingers in the shower aren’t enough, you need a hand pressed over your mouth for him to fuck you hard and fast in the bathroom, exiting flushed and steam clogged to nothing more than a breakfast offer from Eric. Quick fucks in ten minute time spans, not enough time for you to spread your legs properly, less time for him to see.  

He's gripping his erection through the cloth now, watching your sleeping form, curled on your side. It’s his favourite way to fuck you in the mornings, when you’re warm from his body and sleep rough, your tongue thick with dreams as he pulls you closer into his skin, clumsily pawing at you just to fuck you full, clean you up and fuck you properly.  

No time for that this week either. You’ve been in the café, returning calls and having meetings, helping people with financial questions he understands the merest gist of. Your fingers have stopped curling and uncurling. You seem lighter.  

Just a taste. That’s all he tells himself, just one and it would sate him for the next few days. Eric leaves in the New Year, a little over a week away. Next year you’ll be more comfortable, maybe enough to let him watch, see the way Dieter squirms when he’s given explicit instructions. The thought of both of you, telling him what to do, has him swallowing a groan. 

* 

Warm. That’s all your hazy brain supplies as your eyes flutter open. It’s dark in the room and you can feel the weight of something else pressing on your pulse, the curl of Dieter’s body behind you.  

“Hey” you mumble, your voice cracking with sleep. 

“M’sorry” he says, kissing a spot behind your ear that makes you shiver in his embrace. “Come downstairs” 

“Where?” you ask, confused as his hands slip up your shirt. 

“The shop. Please”  

His voice is breathy, the deep rich gravel of it scraping your belly as he presses into your back, feeling the thick weight of him in the cleft of your ass. It sizzles your brain, waking you further as you agree, rolling slowly out of bed as he keeps his hands on you. 

You lean on him down the staircase in the dark, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he whispers into your hairline. You can see the outline of his erection as he steers you to the mustard yellow armchair, kicking a pillow in front of it as you relax back into its squashy depths. 

“What are we doing?” you ask, your voice still unsteady with sleep. He’s cast in an ethereal glow. The fridge lights are a warm yellow, the coffee machine a sea green, making him look angelic, the sharp planes of his face softer as he arranges himself on his knees in front of you. 

He presses his face into your stomach, hiking your shirt just high enough to press his lips below your navel, his breath shaky as it spreads warm across your skin. He tugs your shorts and underwear off as one, your nails scratching into the fabric of the chair as he drops them to the ground, spreading your legs wider, the burn in your inner thighs as he drapes your legs over the arm rest. 

You’re wet for him already, the cold air chilling you as he groans at the sight of you in the dim lighting. He rests his cheek against your thigh, massaging you open as you scratch at the armrest, his gaze focused only on the juncture of your thighs. 

“I missed you” he groans, leaning forward to take a lungful of your scent, brush his nose against your clit as you whimper. 

You’re still sleep drunk, your limbs uncooperative as he moves you, folds you in half with broad strong palms to spread you wider. The stretch in your limbs tells you you’ll be sore in the morning... later in the morning.  

Warm. His mouth is so warm, a long and lazy stripe with his tongue as you feel the rumbling vibrations of his moaning as he traces your folds, spit dripping from his mouth as he tastes you. You’re aching, you can feel your pulse through your clit as he slowly drinks you in. 

“Dieter... please” it’s a whimper, a begging cracking plea as the messy curls of his hair brush your belly, each slow rotation of his tongue bordering on torturous. 

“I haven't had you in days” he says, pulling back to look at you, his thumb a lazy light metronome across your swollen clit. It's not enough, it's too much, all at once as he meets your eyes, his brow furrowed. 

“Days, Lou.” He squeezes your thigh; his shoulders are so broad they brush the sensitive skin. “I’m going to lick your perfect cunt until I've had my fill, until your spread open and gaping for me, until I fucking drown. I need you to take it for me, can you do that? Can you let me take my time with you? Until you’re swollen and begging and oversensitive, until you gush all over my face? Because when I shove my cock inside you, I want to feel it, that tremble, that uncontrollable clench of muscle as you cum for me again? Please?” 

His thumb is still swiping circles on your clit, you can feel it swelling underneath his delicate touch, another turn of a seemingly never-ending screw as your skin prickles, your brain fuzzy at his words. He waits for you, staring until you nod, your head falling back onto the cushion as his mouth descends again. 

He sucks your clit between his lips, enough pressure to make you cry out, the sudden sensation sharp as a knife in your belly. He bands his arm across your stomach, holding you still as he sucks harder, his tongue flicking against the ripe berry of your clit. You bite down on your arm to trap the scream in your throat, you can feel the mix of saliva and slick dripping over your skin, sluicing beneath you as he groans into your hot flesh. 

Your orgasm is violent, ratcheting through your system like a supernova as he quickly slips two thick fingers inside your cunt, pressing against your fluttering walls to prolong it. You struggle to breathe with the force of it, his fingers curling against you as he relentlessly lashes your clit, refusing you the option of a come down. 

Pressure. It’s so much pressure, his fingers curling and pressing against you as he snarls into your folds like an animal, barely drawing breath himself as the wet squelch of his fingers fills the deserted café, your whimpers and pleas of his name muffled in the crook of your arm as he keeps pushing, and pushing and pushing.  

You feel it. The wet burst of liquid that accompanies a second, deeper orgasm, you hear the splash on his face, the wet smack of his hand as his fingers are pushed out by the force of it, immediately transferring to your clit to skate across it, gliding smooth and effortless as he drinks from you, pressing his tongue inside you with a desperate groan. 

You’re weightless, your limbs made of clouds and stars as he rises, still pinching at your twitching clit. You barely see his cock when he frees it from his sweats, pushing them down just enough to angle himself into you, the stretch a burn inside you as he buries himself to the hilt with an obscene sound.  

His hand is wet when it grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks open to press his thumb against your tongue, the salt tang of you bursting across your teeth as he folds you in half for the leverage, fucking into you savagely, his hips bouncing against yours as he spews filth into your ear. 

“That’s my fucking girl, there you go, that’s what I want. Fucking drenched aren’t you, all fucked out and cock dumb. You're so good to me, letting me wake you up in the middle of the night because I'm craving a taste of your sweet little cunt. I want to wake you up like this every day, burying my tongue inside you while I jerk off, I want to fuck you awake, and to sleep. I want the last thing you feel and the first thing you feel to be this fat cock splitting you open, so you know every day what a fucking animal I am for you”  

His skin is fevered to the touch, his fingers pressing on your tongue as he fucks into you deeper, punching the air from your lungs with every savage thrust of his hips. 

“You take it so good for me, I can feel it, the way you want to cum again. You going to cum for me again, get me all wet so I can cum on your fucked out cunt, smear myself all over your dripping folds. Pretty as a picture, I'll paint it for you, we can hang it over our bed. My favourite meal, my favourite girl, mine...” 

Your back arches as you grab him, your nails digging into his shoulder as you cum again. Everything white hot and sharp, electricity as your toes curl, the scream let loose into the empty space as Dieter jerks his cock across your clit, the head smearing messy and wet across your folds, his eyes focused on where you join. 

He cums hard, covering your belly and thighs, dripping down into the mess you’ve already made, his voice hoarse as he buries his face in your neck, the scrape of teeth against your hammering pulse.  

He fucks it back into you, cramming his twitching cock inside your fluttering cunt as he kisses you, as sloppy and uncoordinated as you feel, breaths caught in milliseconds as he squeezes your waist, thanking you with half a breath. 

“Missed you too” you manage, looping your arms around his neck as your limbs relax stroking the base of his hairline, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. 

“I couldn’t see Andromeda tonight” he mutters, catching his breath against your skin. “Too many clouds”  

“Perseus fought to the death for her right?” you ask, the memory of him telling you the story under blankets on his balcony. 

“Mmm” he says, his hands squeezing your hips as he kisses your jaw. 

“How come all the stories in the stars are tragedies?” You wonder. 

“Maybe because they haven't all been written yet” he replies, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you closer, his lips descending for a kiss. 

** 

Christmas Eve brings snow. Flurries of spiralling white blanket the city, dampening the rush of traffic, people with places to be crunching through the slush, wrapped in warm coats with frozen fingers, angrily shivering as they wait to cross the street.  

It brings a brief reprieve to Owen and Molly. The café closing early as they make their way upstairs after, smelling of coffee and burnt sugar, both of them retrieving the bags of clothing they stashed in the early hours of the morning.  

“It’s tradition” Molly explains, adding flips of electric green eyeliner with a practised hand. “Eric pays, and Owen and I get absolutely wasted on his dime, and sleep it off on the couch”  

“A Christmas Miracle” Eric says, offering them each a tiny pill of ecstasy, a puff on a tidy joint. They both accept as you wave him off, the pills not interesting you. Dieter has cookies in the fridge, and you’re planning a night of payback, a few hours to unspool him again, watch the way his face twists with your mouth around his leaking cock, your hands holding his hips steady as he keens. 

Just the thought has you shaking off their invitations, Eric quieting their protests with a knowing grin. You’re almost certain he heard you, the scent of fabric cleaner was thick enough on you both in the morning for him to deduce where you had vanished to, what Dieter had left you tucked in bed to clean. He just smirked and winked, laughing at the heat of your skin.  

They look like famous people when they're done. Dressed in neon's and accessories, rave kids, call-back to the club kids, their pupils becoming wider as the drug kicks in. They all drink water before they leave, long kisses on your forehead and warm smiles as they vanish out the door, singing about Daddy Warbucks in offkey voices.  

Dieter falls apart within the hour.  

“We have to move” 

“We don’t” 

“We have to, you’re dripping out of me” 

“Say more things like that” Dieter growls, grabbing at you and pulling you closer. He’s still inside you, the occasional twitch of his spent cock a valiant effort as he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, trapping you against his bulk.  

“There’s no way you can go again” you laugh, stroking his sweaty hair off his forehead as he tilts his chin, angling for a kiss. 

His movements are slow, deliberate as he presses you into his chest. You're both spent, limbs full of static and lead as you lazily explore the slick of each others skin. His hair is wild, curling madly from the heat, the room clouded with the scent of sex as he grabs your ass, grinding you into his pelvis as you whine.  

“Is it Christmas yet?” he asks, stroking your cheek as you press your forehead against his, the chill of winter just starting to creep back into your body heat. 

“Not yet” you mutter, flicking your eyes at the clock as he pouts.  

“I have something for you” he says, unable to leave your lips long enough for the sentence to finish. 

“I didn’t get you anything” you reply, panic settling in your stomach as he grabs at you, forcing you to stay pressed against him as you try to rear away. 

“Yes you did” he says, smiling at your panicked expression. “You got me everything”  

It smacks you hard in the chest, the affection so violent as to make you stiffen. It comes in waves, crashing into you when you least expect it. The way he kisses you, holds you. The way he asks you about your day, follows up with questions of things you’ve taught him. 

He sees you. He remembers everything you’ve ever said to him, listens when you talk. He paints beautiful works and presses your thumb into them. He’s never pushed, never asked you for more than what you’re ready to give. Even now, his hands tracing patterns on your back, he watches your face come to these earth-shattering revelations with a serene smile, a loose grip on you, as if he knows you won't run away.  

“Dieter... I...” 

The door downstairs crashes open. You both hear the off key harmonising of Eric and Molly as the door slams shut behind them, the stumbling of the stairs as they continue a tune you can’t hear. 

You’ve just wrestled into a shirt, blankets covering your bare legs and Dieter’s still nude groin when Owen appears, wearing Molly’s shirt and carrying pizza boxes. His face is covered in glitter, there’s paint on his exposed midriff, his smile wide and lazy.  

Eric and Molly have a Whole Foods bag and less clothing than they started with. The glitter that shakes free from them is like a cloud of stars as they tumble through the door, collapsing together on the couch as they shout a greeting to each of you in turn. 

“They were fucking” Owen says, pulling a slice of pizza free with a grin. 

“They’re always fucking, you still aren’t forgiven for that mess you failed to clean up by the way.” Molly hiccups. 

“Dieter is insatiable, we all know that” Eric replies, grabbing Owen’s wrist to steal a bite of pizza. Owen kisses his nose as he chews.  

“She tastes like sprinkles on a birthday cake, can you blame me?” Dieter asks, wincing as you smack his shoulder. He reaches to the nightstand, grabbing a joint and lighting it as you pull the blanket higher, relaxing back into his chest as the vegetal scent covers the smell of sex still emanating from both of you. 

“Sprinkles on a birthday cake eh” Eric says, running his finger down Molly’s cheek as she curls into his lap.  

“What’s in the bag” you ask loudly, unwilling to continue this conversation without underwear on. 

“Presents” Molly sighs. 

Owen reaches for the bag, toppling it over the couch as a rainbow of colour spills out. 

“Are those...” 

“Sex toys. Yep” Eric says, giggling as he reaches for the joint on offer. 

“We ended up at this drag show and they were just giving them away” Owen says, laughing as he pulls a multicoloured strand of anal beads from the pile. “Thought we could use them as decoration for New Years” 

“Of course, if you have any favourites...” Eric says, winking at you as a heavy violently pink plug rolls across the floor. 

“I’ll let you have first choice.”  

You stay up late, laughing and talking as you share pizza and another joint, Molly falling asleep first, curled between Owen and Eric, who grab blankets and form a protective nest around her. Your conversation slows, the guys nodding off as the ecstasy does, the weed making them fuzzy and slow. You hear their even breathing, a synchronised mass together on Dieter’s couch as he strokes your hair, kissing your temple. 

“Is it Christmas yet?” he asks, his voice low. 

“Yes, it’s Christmas”  

He grins, reaching into his nightstand drawer and pulling out a gift wrapped in twine. You pull the string, letting it fall apart in your lap as the paper falls away. 

It’s a journal.  

The cover is dark, a faux leather, with the coming year burnt onto the front. It feels soft beneath your fingers, a worn give to its weight already as though it had been in use for years already, history in its pages before you open it. 

The pages are off white, uneven but perfect, tied together with uneven knots of twine down the middle. The front pages feature his spiky script, a hand drawn calendar, decorated with linking stars. As you flip through, each month has a watercolour in miniature, betraying the seasons as they change throughout the year. 

It’s set up exactly as your current one, the familiar columns and free pages organised exactly how you would have done. Birthdays and anniversaries and reminders are already sketched in, the loops of his handwriting familiar as you look at the pressed pages, the thickness of them, the way they would take the ink. 

“Dieter... did you make this?” you ask, awe in your voice as you look at the paintings. Figures, dancing in the rain, the snow, the falling leaves with high rises and stars in the background. 

“Thought you’d need a new one for next year” he hums, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you trace his fingerprint, a different colour on every page, a heart in every corner. “Sorry I had to look through yours for how you like it set up”  

The tears come without warning, pricking the corners of your lashes as you flip through the year. He’s marked certain days, little mementos in the corner. Day I first met you, Day we first watched Baby Jane, first time I tasted you, first time you tasted me, first time you realised you loved me, first time you stopped yourself from saying it. 

“I love you” it falls with tears from your eyes. Streaking hot down your cheeks as it blooms like a flower, crackling and sparkling like electricity through your system. “I love you so much”  

Dieter hums, pulling you to wrap your arms around his neck as you whisper it, over and over into his skin. 

“You’re ahead of schedule” he says, smiling as you cry into his neck. “Luckily, I had a plan for such an occasion” 

He pulls a hessian pouch from the nightstand, peeling your face from the crook of his neck to hand it to you, his eyes sparkling with tears as he tips the bag into your palm. 

“I saw you, for the first time, soaking wet. I was down in the shop because I was pulled there from the rain. It ruined a canvas that day, that summer storm out of nowhere. I was down to irritate Owen with my pouting. Then the bell creaked, in it’s old way, and there you were. It was like I had been struck by lightning, every cell in my body exploding like a nova from the minute I saw your face. I’ve been looking ever since for something just like this. Turns out, I just had to be patient.” 

The ring is uneven, waving and discoloured, a deep rich gold streaked with scarlet as he holds it to the light. 

“The rust from that bell is what dyed the paint for that journal. It's old bones are this ring”  

It fits your finger perfectly, already warm as he slips it to the knuckle, tilting your chin to look at him. 

“I’ve loved you since the minute I laid eyes on you. I’ll love you until our atoms are scattered across the universe in an exploding star.” 

He kisses you, full of promise and warmth. 

“Because I know they’ll find their way back”  

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

[fruitcoops]

Wisdom With Age

Follow-up to Leo getting his wisdom teeth out: it’s Loops’ turn! Hope you enjoy :) Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for dental work, wisdom teeth removal, anesthesia, and surgery (mentioned)

Sirius carefully, but firmly, set his hand on Remus’ knee to stop it from bouncing. “Sorry,” Remus muttered, then immediately began worrying at the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Okay,” Sirius said under his breath, turning in his seat and taking both of Remus’ hands in his own. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus muttered as his eyes flickered up to Sirius’ face. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”

“I know, but you have to do it.”

“Why? They’re my teeth, it’s my mouth, and is it such a bad thing if I don’t want people poking around in it?” The leg started bouncing again. “I mean, humans survived for thousands of years with their wisdom teeth, and—and teeth serve a lot of very important purposes besides chewing. This could fuck up my ears, and my hearing—”

“Remus.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Sirius began tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “You know better than anyone why this is important, and it’s dangerous to keep them in any longer than you already have. I totally respect that you’re freaked out right now, but you’ve got to calm down. These guys do this all the time.”

“There are always exceptions.”

Yes, I know, I’ve been thinking about all those scenarios for the past two weeks. “And you won’t be one of them. How long did you spend finding this place, again?” There was a beat of silence. “Re.”

“Four hours,” he muttered.

“Exactly. You did your research.” Remus’ eyes wandered up to the clock and his grip tightened when he saw how little time was left until their appointment. Distraction, distraction—“Tell me why you chose this place.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You spent four hours sifting through dentists’ offices online, right? Tell me why this one stood out to you.”

“Um. Well, I guess it was just a combination of things. They have really good ratings and this is where Leo got his out, which went well. He was on his feet within a week, which was impressive. The equipment is good quality and—”

“Remus Lupin?”

“Oh, fuck me.” The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, and he flushed deep red as Sirius hid a smile in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Hi, that’s me. Remus Lupin. I’m…a little nervous.”

Her face softened as she walked over. “That’s perfectly normal. We have a little bit of paperwork for you to look over and then we’ll get started. Is this the person who will be driving you home?”

“That’s me. How long will it take?”

“Oh, an hour or so. Not long.” She handed Remus a pen before turning back to Sirius. “We do these procedures all the time, so there’s nothing to worry about. The surgery is quick and easy.”

Remus’ hand skidded across the page on the word ‘surgery’ and Sirius squeezed his thigh gently as he took a trembling breath. “Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Sirius said with a smile while Remus read. “We really appreciate it.”

“Why does this have to be so important?” Remus mumbled as he signed the last page.

The nurse shrugged. “Human bodies are funny things.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was a physical therapist for six years,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Unfortunately, that means I know exactly why putting this off for so long was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know about a bad idea.” The nurse tilted her head to the side. “You still came in to do it before there were any problems, right? That seems pretty smart to me, and very brave.”

“She’s right,” Sirius said quietly, knocking their shoulders together. “You’ve got this, mon loup.”

The nurse waited patiently while he took a few deep breaths before standing up and hugging Sirius tight around the chest. “You’ll be here, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and the inside of his wrist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The tension returned to Remus’ shoulders as he followed the nurse out of the lobby; Sirius sat down and grabbed a magazine to distract himself for the next hour.

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

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came back out. Sirius stood up immediately as fear bolted through his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she soothed, taking the seat next to his with a sigh. “There was a bit of trouble getting him to fall asleep, though.”

“Oh?” Sirius tried to keep his voice neutral as he sat down, but even he could tell it didn’t work that well.

She gave him an amused look. “Your boy is stubborn. We get nervous people all the time, but he seemed to have a personal vendetta against our anesthesiologist. The countdown usually lasts three seconds, maximum, but I made it all the way down to five before he was out.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s just fine.” She patted his hand.

“He’s been avoiding this for about four years now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Hates hospitals and dentists, but still got a medical degree.” Sirius huffed. “His mom threatened to drive here from Wisconsin and drag him in by the ear if he didn’t schedule it soon.”

The nurse smiled. “You’d be surprised by how many young folks we get in here shaking in their boots. It’s really not that bad of a procedure, but all you hear about are the times it went wrong.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. “Is it normal to be nervous for him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Lots of people cry while they’re waiting, though I haven’t quite figured out why. Feel free to do some wailing if you think it’ll help.”

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer,” Sirius laughed. There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of him being in there all alone.”

“Oh, honey, nobody does.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “We always want to be there for the ones we love. Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This summer.” He smiled to himself. “I’m really excited.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We’ve known each other for six years or so, but we’ve only been dating for one.”

They chatted back and forth, and Sirius felt his nerves melt away as the conversation turned to Harry, then Regulus and Jules, until a tall man in a white coat poked his head into the lobby. “Do we have a companion for Remus Lupin in here?”

Sirius raised his hand. “That’s me.”

“Come on back, he just woke up.”

The dentist’s office smelled different than a hospital, which Sirius was grateful for. Remus wouldn’t like waking up with the scent of rubbing alcohol all around him. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with various murals for the younger patients—each room had its own name tag with stickers.

“Remus?” The doctor knocked on the door as he opened it. “We’ve got someone here for you.”

“Hmm?” Remus blinked sleepily at them from the table; his face was puffy from anesthesia and gauze.

“Hey, Re,” Sirius said, taking his hand and rubbing it between his own. “Are you ready to go home?”

Remus squinted at him for a long moment. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Did what hurt?”

A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “When you fell from heaven. Hiya, handsome, I’m Remus.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sirius looked back at the doctor, who was hiding his laughter in his hand.

“Here’s your aftercare sheet,” he said, pushing the wheelchair a little closer and handing Sirius a piece of paper. “Can you get him outside by yourself?”

Sirius nodded. “It might take some manhandling, but I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right, you’re fine,” Remus snorted.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered. “Alright, you shameless flirt, can you sit up by yourself?”

Remus winked at him, though it was more like a slow blink. “Might take some manhandling. What’s your name, angel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He shrugged as Sirius helped him clamber into the wheelchair. “I need something to yell.”

“Holy shit, Re!” Sirius spluttered, nearly steering him straight into the cupboards in surprise. “You can’t just say that in the middle of a dentist’s office!”

Remus frowned and glanced around the room. “Is that where I am?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t like dentists. Or hospitals. Super fuckin’ creepy.”

“Yes, I know.” The hall was mostly empty, thank god. “You’ve told me.”

“Have we met before?” Remus stared up at him and nearly went crosseyed. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“We’ve known each other for six years.”

“Huh. I really hope we’re dating, because there’s no way I’m passing up a chance to tap that.”

“You know, Leo was incredibly sweet when his wisdom teeth got taken out,” Sirius sighed as they went down the next corridor. “He called Finn ‘pretty’ and then only wanted cuddles for a few days. You, on the other hand, were apparently so stubborn that they had to spend twenty minutes putting you to sleep, and now you’re hitting on me like a drunk frat boy.”

“I can call you pretty if you want.” Sirius stopped walking as Remus reached up to trail a surprisingly steady hand down his cheek; some of the flirty mischief was replaced by awe. “You really are beautiful. What’s your name? For real this time, I want to know.”

“Sirius.”

“Like the star.” The corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled. “Brightest one in the sky. It fits.”

“Just for that, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Sirius said as they neared the exit.

“Oh?”

“We’re engaged.”

“What?”

[writernada]

10 Times Yuzuru Hanyu Was Inspiring

Yuzuru Hanyu (26 years old) is a Japanese figure skater. He is a two-time Olympic champion, two- time World champion, Four Continent champion, four times Grand Prix Final champion and five times national champion. He is the only male skater that has achieved a grand slam (won all major competitions in both junior and senior circus). In 2018, he won the People's Honor Award given by the Japanese Prime Minister and became the youngest recipient of this award. He also won the award of the most valuable skater at the International Skating Union Awards for the season 2019-2020. Since his debut in the senior circus in 2011-2012 and until now, Yuzuru's performances have always made a great impact on the audience; allowing him to have the biggest fan base ever in the history of figure skating. His fans are not only from Japan but from all around the world; including other skaters and coaches. The reason behind all of this love is that Yuzuru touches the hearts by performing like an artist, hitting every note, being super passionate about what he does and combining a competitive spirit with a sport soul. On top of all of that, he has an ability to inspire people. His road has never been easy. It is full of injuries, surgeries, illnesses, strong competitors, mistakes and losses. However, he always perserves, pushes through his limits, overcomes adversity and rises in an inspiring way.

Here are the ten times Yuzuru Hanyu was an icon of inspiration:

1- Winning his first medal in the World Championship in 2012 despite having an injury and low stamina.

In his debut in the World championship (senior circus) in 2012, Yuzuru (17) sprained his right ankle during the official practice the day before the short program. His foot swelled up but he decided not to withdraw, taking into account all the effort he has made for this competition and all the people who came here for him (coach, mom and officials). He went ahead and competed. He was ranked seventh in the short program, third in the free program and third overall, winning the bronze medal.

Yuzuru commented on that competition in his autobiography book "Aoi Hono ll":

"Because I was injured the day before the short, I felt that even in that kind of situation 'I landed my quad, I did well’. I felt that I had worked really hard by myself. However, my mother told me, "That is wrong.” Getting injured was my own fault, but there were many people who helped and supported me. That is the reason why I could come to this point. Until about 9 o'clock that night, we were talking about this while having dinner, and in the end, I realized that my thinking was wrong."

Yuzuru was about to get full of himself and let arrogance take over him. However, his mother helped him stay grounded. Thus, he was able to face the free program with a humble attitude. He put out a passionate performance that many people still remember until this day and consider as one of their favorites. During that performance, he tried not to put a lot of pressure on the injured foot so he shifted all the pressure on the other one until it got exhausted and gave up on him. As a result, he fell all of a sudden in the middle of the performance, but he managed to get up right away and perform a great jump right after.

In his autobiography book that was mentioned earlier, Yuzuru talked about this fall and said: "Later, when I watched the videos, I saw that the fall did not take up much time. I was standing up again quickly. But to me, it felt like a long time. When I fell, the feeling was like flying mid-air. Like this (he re-enacts the fall in slow motion), 'ahh, I am stumbling~~’ (laughs). After the fall, I was thinking 'what should I do from here’, many thoughts circled around. Thinking that I won’t make it in time for the next axel jump, I shortened the path by going straight instead of curved. I can jump even a 3A+3A (in practice), so I thought I will be alright. (laughs)”.

One of the most exciting moments during the performance is when Yuzuru shouted out aloud before the choreographic sequence. The shout seemed like a great expression of the emotions of his character (Romeo). It made him look like he was totally into character. However, he clarified that it was unintentional. He said: "I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so I thought, for now just let the breath out. (laughs)"

Yuzuru is known to be suffering from asthma and because of it he had a low stamina at the time. However, even after finding out that the shout wasn't done to express the character's emotions, viewers still find it impactful because it is a genuine expression of Yuzuru's fight against his limits.

That night, Yuzuru made a name for himself internationally. He shed tears of happiness after getting his scores and so did his coach. He also got praised by the winner that night who said: "the one shining the most is Yuzuru".

2-  Breaking a World Record and winning gold in his first participation in the winter Olympic Games.

At the age of 19, Yuzuru participated for the first time in the Olympic Games. Young male skaters like him who participate for the first time usually don't dare to dream about winning. The big scale of the competition gets athletes nervous and shaken, even the great and experienced ones of them. Therefore, the young newcomers usually consider their first participation as an experience to have under their belt while preparing for the next Olympic. However, Yuzuru was determind to win. His choreographer at the time, David Wilson, talked about his intense determination in an interview: "he wrote me an email letter that was so touching. He was like please help me do this because I'm ready. I'll do anything. I will die. I'll do anything to be the Olympic Champion. I don't want to wait until 2018. I want it now and I'll do anything. I'm willing to die for it. Anything you tell me, I'll do it but help me."

David Wilson talking about Yuzuru's determination to win the 2014 Olympics

Yuzuru performed a marvelous short program and came out of the rink saying: "I did it!" to which his coach replied: "you certainly did". He broke the world record in his first participation at the Olympics despite his young age. He did get nervous and made mistakes at the free program. However, what he did in the short program was enough to bring him the gold medal and make him achieve his childhood dream.

Yuzuru (11) saying that his dream is to win the Olympics

Yuzuru performing his short program at the 2014 Olympics:

Other Skaters reacting to Yuzuru's World Record at the Olympics:

The moment when Yuzuru finds out he won the  2014 Olympics:

3- Continuing to compete after a pretty bad collusion with another skater during Cup of China 2014:

In 2014, Yuzuru took part in Cup of China, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series. Yuzuru was in second place after the short program and during the 6 minuets warm up before the long program he had an accident. He collided with the Chinese skater Han Yan. They were looking at opposite sides and couldn't see each other until it was too late.

Yuzuru talked about the incident in his autobiography book and said: "My stomach hit the ice (when I fell) and so it felt like I received a body blow. My stomach was hurting so much; I could not breathe nor get up. Then, when I tried standing up, my chin was hurting and bleeding. My head was panicking and I didn’t know exactly where all the pain was coming from."

After a few minutes, Yuzuru stood up on his own despite the arrival of medical helpers. He preferred to exit the rink on his own instead of being carried. Backstage, he was examined and given first aid by American doctors.

The Collusion incident at CoC 2014:

In his biography book, Yuzuru gave some details about what happened backstage after the incident:

"I really gave a lot of trouble to the people around me. They told me ‘Don’t compete’. The doctors also said, 'It is not a concussion, so it is possible to skate but we do not recommend it.’Coach Orser also said, 'Now you don’t need to be a hero. You still have more after this, you still can do a lot as a skater.’But 'it has nothing to do with that. I will skate because I want to go to GP Final.’ I think I might have said that to him in Japanese. I wanted to go to the Final somehow. Here, 5th or 4th place is good enough, I can get 1st place in the next competition, so for now I just want to remain connected. If I compete at GPF, I definitely want to have a second consecutive victory. I also want to win the triple crown again (Worlds, GPF, Nationals). I had those kind of thoughts. Now when I look back I think, 'ah I skated well’."

Yuzuru decided to skate his free program and the people around him respected his decision and allowed him to go. He made sure to meet Han Yan before competing again and they exchanged apologies. After that, Yuzuru showed up in the rink with a bandage on his head and a small band on his chin. He skated his free program bravely after making some changes on the layout to adjust to his condition. He fell on five jumps but did full rotations and got grades for that. He also was able to land some jumps in the latter half of the program, which got him extra points. After the performance, his coach Orser was worried about his feelings if he gets a bad score for falling five times so he was preparing him mentally by saying stuff like: "scores don't matter. What matter is what you did out there" but it turned out Orser had nothing to worry about as Yuzuru received a high score. Yuzuru was so surprised and relieved when he saw his score and he burst into tears after holding on for a long time. He won the silver medal in that event.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at CoC 2014:

After the competition, American doctors prepared the massage room to do stitches for Yuzuru. He received 7 stitches on his chin with anesthetics and 3 staples on his head without any anesthetics, which was really painful to him! The next day, he traveled to Japan for a medical examination in a trip that he described as hell. The result of the examination was "head contusion (or bruise), chin contusion, abdominal contusion, left thigh contusion and right ankle sprain’.

For ten days, Yuzuru was unable to walk and the recovery took more time than expected. Every time he finds himself able to walk, he would go to the rink, but once he steps his foot into the rink the pain comes back. He thought that he would never be able to skate again, felt so depressed and wanted to quit skating all together. However, his mother told him "how about just giving it a try anyway? If you skate just a little on the ice every day with the intention of rehabilitation, the situation may change for the better" her response surprised him because she never tried to stop him from quitting in the past whenever he said he wanted to quit. With that new attitude of his mother, Yuzuru became optimistic about being able to skate again, and found the willpower to try and even aim to win at the next competition of the Grand Prix Series, which was NHK.

At NHK, Unfortunately, Yuzuru wasn't able to present great performances and once he finished his free program he thought to himself: "ah, the final is gone!" he thought that all his efforts in Cup of China were for nothing, but luckily, the total of his points combined from the two competitions made him the last qualified skater for the final. Thus, he was able to take part in the final, presented great performnces and won the gold medal after all the struggles he went through.

4- Winning at Nationals 2014 despite bleeding and needing a surgery:

After the short program at the Grand Prix Final, Yuzuru felt some kind of pain in his stomach whenever he stretched or pressed on it. He thought that it must be a damage in the muscle tissue but after the free program, he found something that looks like a Ping Pong ball sticking out beneath his navel. It was so painful to the extent that he couldn't sleep on his flight back to Japan. When he landed, he went to the hospital right away and was told that he might have Urachal Remnant Disorder. He was given some antibiotic and sent home because his condition wasn't bad. However, once he returned home, and got into the shower, his navel burst and started bleeding. He went back to the hospital and it was confirmed that he has Urachal Remnant. He needed to undergo a surgery but he couldn't afford to have it any time soon because the Japanese national competition (All Japan) was a few weeks away. He was determined to attend it so he decided to bear with the pain and delay the surgery. Without telling anybody about his problem, he attended his trainings after wrapping himself with gauze to prevent blood from staining his clothes. That didn't work out well and blood still got to his clothes so when it was time for the competition, he was worried that his costume might get stained. To prevent that from happening, he put a strong tape on top of the gauze, which was painful, but did the job. In this condition, Yuzuru took part in the Japanese national competition, and despite a few mistakes in both of his programs, his endurance of pain didn't go in vain, and he actually won.

Yuzuru commented about this situation in his book by saying: "It was painful to bend forward and backward, but I tried to do whatever I could in that situation. I even did the Ina bauer, but I could not arch back at all. In fact, I also intended to do the biellmann spin! However, when I started the spin, I changed it into an A-line"

Yuzuru performing his free program and putting his hand on his stomach while leaving the ice during All Japan 2014:

5-  Rising from fifth place to first in the World Championships 2017:

At the World Championship in 2017, Yuzuru made some mistakes in the short program that left him sitting in fifth place behind his rivals. The gap between him and the first place was around 11 points. He was so disappointed in himself but didn't give up. He wanted to go practice harder. However, his coaches stopped him from overworking himself and made sure that he takes a good rest and goes through a normal practice. After that, he collected himself, focused, stayed calm and presented one of the greatest performances ever. It was flawless and magnificent. His coach Brian Orser said that he felt privileged to have witnessed this performance. Yuzuru got a very high score that made him scream and left him on the verge of shedding happy tears. His coach Brian Orser was speechless while his other coach Tracy Wilson had her mouth wide open in astonishment. With that, Yuzuru was able to rise from fifth place to first and win the championship.

Yuzuru performing his free program and receiving his score at the WC 2017:

6- Winning the second Olympic title right after being away from the ice for 3 months due to a severe injury:

Before the beginning of the Olympic season, Yuzuru was done with his preparation very early and was all ready to compete. His coach Brian Orser couldn't believe how smoothly things were going and felt a little uneasy about the fact that Yuzuru was ready very early. His worry wasn't pointless because soon enough Yuzuru sustained a severe injury. It happened during the official practice before NHK. Yuzuru was practicing (4Lutz) which was a new jump he has been practicing that season. He landed the jump in a wrong way causing ligament damage to his right ankle. The injury forced him out of competition for the rest of the season.

Yuzuru's fall and injury at NHK 2017:

Yuzuru disappeared and was away from the ice for three months. During that time, he didn't make any T.V appearances or interviews. Thus, nobody knew anything about him and his condition. His participation in the Olympics and the mere ability to perform again became uncertain. A lot of people doubted he would be able to comeback. However, he showed up at Incheon Airport in South Korea surrounded by guards and declared that he was ready to compete and that he believes he has the potential to win more than any other skater. After that, he avoided talking to the press until the end of the competition.

Yuzuru's arrival at Incheon Airport to participate at the 2018 Olympics:

According to his coach, Brian Orser, Yuzuru returned to the ice only six weeks before the Olympics and had to relearn everything and take baby steps to be able to perform again. He was practicing strokes, single and double jumps while watching his training mate and rival, Javier Fernandez, do a full run through of his programs with triples and quads. Yuzuru was able to land triples only three weeks before the Olympics and started landing quads just two weeks before the Olympics.

During the official open practice before the competition, Yuzuru made sure not to reveal his abilities and current condition nor his planned layout. He simply did some strokes and single jumps then left the rink. He chose his layout after studying his rivals and calculating how many points he would potentially need to win. He did his calculations on an app that he developed as part of his studies at the university.

In the short program segment, Yuzuru put out a great performance that was so close to the world record (which he holds). He won first place at this segment. Seeing the results, he felt relieved and assured so he allowed himself to reduce the difficulty of his free program. He was one-step away from winning the Olympics again. He needed to put out another great performance during the free program, and fortunately, that's exactly what he did. He performed a memorable free program filled with emotions, and once he finished, he screamed: "I won. I won!" which was true! He became the first skater to win the Olympics consecutively in 66 years.

Yuzuru's free program at the 2018 Olympics:

The moment that Yuzuru is announced as the winner of the 2018 Olympics:

7- Receiving the gold medal on crutches during Rostelecom Cup 2018:

After winning the Olympics, Yuzuru decided to pay tribute to his role models in figure skating; the Russian legend Evgeny Plushenko and the American Johnny Weir. He chose one of Plushenko's programs as his free program and one of Weir's as his short. He adapted the programs to his own style but still kept some touches from the original ones. Since it was a tribute, he decided to perform his free program in the hometown of his Russian idol and in front of his people. That is why he chose to participate in Rostelecom Cup, which is one of the events of the Grand Prix Series, and is held in Russia. He performed a great short program and everything was going well until he injured his right foot again during the practice before the free program. He was advised to withdraw. However, he absolutely wanted to perform his tribute to the Russian legend, Plushenko, in Russia. He has prepared a lot for this performance and came all the way to Russia to do it so he didn't want all of that to be pointless. He decided to take strong painkillers and perform his free program. He lowered the difficulty of the program and then presented a great performance in front of the Russian crowd that brought him the gold medal. After the performance, he started moving on crutches and admitted that without the painkillers, he wouldn't have been able to skate. He received the gold medal that night on crutches with fans cheering for him and holding up signs that says: "Yuzu we love you from all over the world".

Yuzuru receiving the gold medal on crutches at Rostelecom 2018:

8- Conquering his fears during the season of 2019-2020:

Yuzuru has suffered from a lot of injuries throughout his career. More than once, he thought that he is facing the end of his career because of an injury. Therefore, his main goal during the season of 2019-2020 was to finish the season without injuries. He finished his first two competitions safely and arrived at Japan to participate in NHK, which was his second Grand Prix assignment. Many of his injuries happened in his second GP event and he was conscious about this fact. He was afraid of getting hurt again and was visibly shaking before the beginning of his free program. As a result of his nervousness he missed a combination. However, he pulled himself together and improvised a new combination to recover the points he missed. He thought of the new combination, calculated its points and made sure that it's not repeated all while performing amazingly. Once he came out of the rink, his coach Ghislain gave him a hug and said: "You know what? You conquered your fear!".

Yuzuru shaking before performing his free program at NHK 2019 + full performance:

Yuzuru continued to overcome his fears in the final of the Grand Prix. He was setting in second place after the short program and the gap of points between him and his rival was big. He felt that winning may not be possible this time; nonetheless, he still wanted to do his best and give a respectable performance. He decided to raise the number of quad jumps in his program to five for the first time ever in his career. In addition, he declared that he will bring back the quad Lutz, which is the jump that caused his injury before the 2018 Olympics. It's a jump that he never dared to perform again in competitions since that incident. However, he overcame his fear and performed a flawless quad Lutz during the free program with four other quad jumps in the GPF, challenging not only his fear, but also his stamina that has always been an obstacle for him. He did not win the gold medal, but won his own fight against his fears and limits as well as the hearts and respect of the audience.

Yuzuru performing quad Lutz+ full performance of the free program at GPF2019:

9- Winning the bronze medal in the World Championship 2021 despite an asthma attack and many other hurdles.

During the 2020-2021 season, the whole world was going through struggles because of Corona Virus and Yuzuru was no exception. He had to train on his own in Japan all year long away from his coaches and physical therapist in Canada. He prepared new programs for the season with his choreographers by receiving videos and training accordingly without any supervision. During the season, his hometown was struck by an earthquake twice. The last struck happened right before he traveled to Stockholm to participate in the WC. According to him, the inside of his home was a mess and he couldn't use the train to go to Tokyo and board the plane as planned. As a result, he arrived to Stockholm one day later than planned, thus, he had to change his training plans as well. However, his coach Brian Oreser said that Yuzuru is not the type of athlete who gets phased by such problems and he was right. Yuzuru did perfect run through of his programs during his official practices. He also performed his lively short program very well and won the small gold medal of the segment.

Yuzuru performing his short program at WC 2021:

Yuzuru was all set to win the World Championship for the third time, but something unexpected happened before the free program. He was supposed to start warming up one hour prior the turn of his group (the last group), but he was nowhere to be seen at the venue until it was almost time for the last group to compete. His coach Brian Orser said that he was worried and didn't know where Yuzuru was. He asked the head of the Japanese team but they simply told him: "He is somewhere else". Brian kept on going back and forth between the rink where two of his students were competing and the warm up area where Yuzuru was supposed to be, but Yuzuru did not show up. After Brian's students finished their turn, it was almost time for Yuzuru's group so Brian went to the locker room to see if Yuzuru was there. Usually, Yuzuru would put his skating boots in the locker room before the six-minuets warm up of his group and Brian would come to carry his tissue box, and then they would head to the rink together. However, Brian didn't find Yuzuru in the locker room. Yuzuru was caught on camera sitting on a chair at the warm up area, resting his head on the wall and looking exhausted while taking off his mask impatiently. At that time, the announcement of Keegan Messing's score from the group before the last one, could be heard in the background.

Yuzuru at the warm up area before skating his free program at the WC 2021:

When Brian finally found Yuzuru at the warm up area, he said that he knew something must have happened to him but he didn't ask him about it. Instead, he tried to encourage him by saying energetically: "Let's go!"

Yuzuru showed up at the rink without styling his hair unlike the norm. He made a lot of mistakes in the first part of his free program as if he was not the same person who did a perfect run through one day ago. He said that he suddenly couldn't find his balance but he did try his best. He explained that with every mistake, he tried to at least not fall. Later on, the Russian media reported that the Russian doctor who was accompanying their team at the competition said that Yuzuru has had an asthma attack right before coming to the venue and has asked for his help. Yuzuru never talked to the media about what happened before the free program and why he was late. When he was asked about his asthma he only admitted to feeling a little asthmatic after the free program. Despite all of that, Yuzuru managed to win the bronze medal and contribute in securing three spots to team Japan at the Olympics.

The mystery of what happened to Yuzuru before the free program would have stayed unsolved if it wasn't for the Russian doctor. The reason is that Yuzuru doesn't like to make excuses for himself. He once said in an old interview that he used to make a lot of excuses for himself when he was young but then he realized that real strong skaters don't do that and that he wouldn't learn anything if he keeps on making excuses. He took the renowned Japanese skater Mao Asada as an example when she competed with a bone fracture without uttering a word about it. That must be the reason why he never takes his asthma as an excuse or talks about it.

10- Achieving his childhood dreams one by one:

Since ever Yuzuru was young he declared that he wants to be the Olympic champion and he wants to land a quad Axel. He went on to achieve his Olympic dream in 2014; making history by being the first Japanese male skater to win an Olympic gold medal ever. However, he said that it’s not over yet because the plan in his head is to win the Olympics twice. He kept on improving himself and walking towards his dream while making a lot of sacrifices and overcoming injuries. At the end, he achieved his dream and made history once again by being the first skater in 66 years to win the gold medal at the Olympics consecutively. He then made a statement saying that he feels happy and that this happiness is what he gets in return to the sacrifices he made. After that, he said that he feels freed from the pressure of having to produce results. Thus, he announced that he is going to skate for himself from then on. It was time for him to start focusing on the other dream of his childhood which was the quad Axel. He made it clear that landing it in a competition is his next goal and didn’t allow himself to get swayed by what others are doing or what competitions he is losing. He stayed focused on his goal and is reported to be getting closer to achieving it.  

Yuzuru's path has never been covered with flowers. It was hard and painful most of the time but yuzuru always turns the pain into success and fulfillment with his perseverance, becoming an icon of inspiration to many people. We wish him a lot of happiness and success in the future.

Translation of Yuzuru's book is from:

https://bit.ly/3vSGgBz

[iamwhoami]

Sister Oh Sister (Grey’s Anatomy)

Grey’s Anatomy

   When Amelia has brain surgery to remove her tumor, her sister Y/N is with her the entire time, worried that she might lose her.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Haha...finally got one done...

It’s been a while since I’ve seen the episode where Amelia gets her tumor removed so the facts might be a lil iffy.

You were the first person she told.

   When she paged you to the scan room, you definitely were not expecting this bombshell.

“Oh...Amelia...” You whispered and immediately pulled her into your arms.

“It’s okay...” Amelia said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself to, “It’s benign.”

   You choked back a sob at those words. It was a relief of course, but it was a tumor nonetheless and would definitely have to be removed.

That meant brain surgery.

   Over the next while, you were constantly at Amelia’s side. Yes, it was partially because you knew you had to be there for her, but in a way, you were also there because you were scared.

Scared that history might repeat itself.

   The few months before Derek died, you hadn’t really been around him much. Now looking back, you regretted not visiting him, Meredith and the kids more. You regretted now inviting them over for dinner more. 

You didn’t want to have those regrets with Amelia.

   Despite all your fear and worries though, you did you best to hide it from Amelia, putting a brave face on instead.

   The day of Amelia’s surgery, you had worked yourself up so much that you spent the first half hour of the day throwing up in the bathroom at home.

   You knew you were worried about her, but there really weren’t any words that would truly describe just how great that worry was.

   Pulling yourself together though, you forced yourself to eat some breakfast before heading to the hospital. It was a surprise that Meredith had even managed to get you to go home since you spent all your time at the hospital since Amelia was checked in.

   Parking your car, you killed the engine and was going to walk in when you realized that you couldn’t. You were so overwhelmed by everything that you just needed one moment by yourself so that you could break down without Amelia knowing.

   You didn’t realize how much you had been holding back until you finally let it all out. You were sobbing so hard, you didn’t even hear the first few knocks on the window to your car.

   Sniffling, you wiped your nose with the side of your hand before taking a deep breath and getting out of the car.

“You good?”

   You looked over at Meredith, debating what you should tell her. Should you lie even though you knew she would see right through it?

“I will be,” You whispered, “But that doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Of course it matters,” Meredith responded, “Y/N, you’ve been driving yourself insane with worry about Amelia and I know you have your reasons but how would Amelia react if she knew what you’ve been doing?”

“What am I doing?” You asked numbly as you and Meredith headed into the building.

   Meredith grabbed your arm, making you stop, “You’re not taking care of yourself Y/N. Your running yourself to the ground, you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping.”

“It’s going to be okay,” You whispered back, biting your lip as you felt the tears threaten to spill from your eyes again, “Right? She’s going to be okay.”

“Oh...Y/N,” Meredith reached out her other arm and pulled you into a hug.

   You choked back a sob, “She has to be okay Mer because I swear I can’t do it again. Not after Derek...”

“I know,” Meredith mumbled and put her hand on the back of your head, rubbing it up and down.

   With that, you nodded and Meredith looped her arm through yours before making your way up to Amelia’s room.

“I’ll go through the a sub frontal craniotomy, real clean, small incision,” Tom was saying as you and Meredith arrived.

   Amelia saw you and gave you a weak smile which you just barely were able to return.

“So I imagine you have questions,” Tom looked at everyone expectantly.

“Yeah uh...how many of these have you done?” Dr. Bailey pointed her finger at Tom.

   Tom shook his head slightly, “So...so many.”

“What’s the recovery time?” Richard added.

   You tried to listen. You tried to pay attention, stay engaged, but your mind just kept wandering, going through each of the possible scenarios. 

“See you at the afterparty,” Tom was saying when you zoned back in and without another word he walked out of the room.

“He’s arrogant and a showboat so DeLuca, make sure you ask him questions during surgery,” Amelia ordered, “Make him show off.”

   DeLuca nodded in response and you knew that he would do that.

“And if I make it through,” Amelia started to say but Owen cut her off.

“When you make it through,” He corrected.

“Early ambulation protocol,” DeLuca finished and Amelia thanked him.

   Amelia then turned to Meredith, “Meredith...if I die.”

“You are not going to die,” Meredith said.

“But if I do,” Amelia went on, “You call my mom...I’m sorry but she likes you.”

“True that,” You snorted, knowing fully that Amelia was very correct on that.

   Amelia then looked over at Maggie, “And you...take my room! I totally scammed you on that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous-” Maggie started to say but Alex cut in.

“She’s right on that, it’s way better,” Alex mumbled to Maggie.

“If I’m gorked after this,” Amelia took a deep breath, “Unplug me. Don’t think about it. Go on with your lives. If I need unplugging, April has been named my power of attorney.”

   At those words, everyone, including you, slowly looked over at April who had a very awkward expression on her face.

“What...was I supposed to say no?”

“I uh...I don’t know what’s me and what’s tumor talking,” Amelia looked you straight in the eyes before continuing, “But uh...in this moment, I love you people tremendously.”

~~~

   You were sitting in between Meredith and Maggie, watching through the gallery at the scene below. Amelia standing...leading the superhero pose.

   You watched as Amelia got onto the table and as she was preparing to lay down, she gave you a wave.

   Forcing a smile, you waved back.

~~~

   The entire time Amelia was in surgery, it felt like you were underwater. Not drowning, but just underwater. The sounds around you were fuzzy and even though you could see perfectly well, your eyes stung as if salt was irritating them. You were subconsciously holding your breath too, breathing only when Maggie or Meredith reminded you to.

   When the surgery ended, you were slightly relieved but now you were tasked with one of the hardest things.

Waiting.

   You refused to leave Amelia’s side, even though she was still unconscious. Meredith and Maggie tried to get you to leave for food, but you brushed them off, only leaving to use the bathroom.

   You talked a lot to Amelia while you waited for her to wake up, knowing that she couldn’t hear you. It brought you some sort of comfort though, speaking to her as if she were awake.

“I know you’d tell me that I’m being stupid,” You laughed, holding Amelia’s hand in yours, watching her face carefully for any signs that she might be waking up.

   You smiled painfully, “But I can’t leave you Amy...not after what happened with Derek. You can’t leave me...because I really need you Amy. Even though I’ve been annoying and you’ve been a pain in my ass at times, I love you so much more than I’ve ever told you.”

   You reached your hand out and gently stroked your sister’s face.

“Please Amy...” You swallowed hard, “Please don’t leave me.”

~~~

   Needless to say, when Amy woke up speaking French, you thought you were going to have a heart attack. When Meredith explained what was going on though...you quickly understood and calmed down.

A little bit.

   It was hard watching Amelia be in pain while she recovered from brain surgery but you always put on a brave face and made sure to be there beside her every step of the way.

   It took a while, and since you were with Amelia every day it was hard to see the tiny steps of progress, but you did. It felt like forever, but you knew it wasn’t, before Amelia was finally allowed to be discharged and head home.

“I’ll put the bags in the car first,” Owen said and looked over at you

   You smiled and Owen gave you a knowing look before walking out of the room, a few bags in his hand.

“You look like crap,” Amelia joked as you rubbed your bloodshot eyes.

“Right back at you,” You mumbled back but Amelia could tell it didn’t have your usual spunk.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked, clearly concerned.

   You shook your head, “It’s stupid...”

“Oh come on Y/N,” Amelia said, “It’s me, you know you can tell me anything.”

   You sighed and shook your head again but you didn’t stay quiet this time and told Amelia what was bothering you.

“It’s just...especially after Derek,” You felt yourself start to choke up and quickly swallowed hard, “I couldn’t lose you. I was so scared I would lose you too Amelia.”

   Amelia’s gaze softened as she realized what you meant.

“Come here...” Amelia whispered and opened her arms so that you could lean into her embrace, “It’s okay...I’m okay now. You’re not going to lose me.”

   You nodded and closed your eyes, “I know...but it was just hard...”

“I don’t even know how hard that must have been for you,” Amelia said and you felt her sigh, “But you know...you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

   You couldn’t help but shake your head at your sister’s attempts of trying to make a joke.

“I know, you’re like a barnacle,” You went along with Amelia’s attempts.

“Seriously though,” Amelia whispered, “I’m always going to be with you no matter what.”

   You nodded, “I know...I love you Amelia.”

“Love you too.”

[dirtyrick]

The Scientist

Wow. It's been almost 5 years since I last wrote fanfiction on here. With the new fantastic season 5 out, I decided it was time I made a comeback. This is an idea I've had since 2016, but I truthfully couldn't figure out how to weave this web. Now, I think I do. Please enjoy, this really is my baby.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth woke me up in my workroom at around 6am, just a little bit before heading off to school. She usually did this, as she had more motivation to cook us breakfast than I did. I was surprised to see a stack of pancakes sitting on the table when I came downstairs. She had set the table so perfectly, it never failed to make me smile. I rubbed my eyes and sat down, ready to dig in when she came back into the dining area from her room. She handed me some papers with a gleeful smile on her face.

“Dad, could you please sign these papers?” she asked me.

I raised an eyebrow as I looked at them, “volunteer work?”

She nodded, “yes, usually it’s a graduation requirement, but since I'm only a sophomore I need a parent’s permission to get it done early.”

Pulling a pen out of my pocket, I sighed, “Don’t you already have enough extracurriculars? Don’t spread yourself so thin, you’re only 14.”

She sat down on the chair across from me with a very stubborn look on her face. She wanted to be a surgeon so badly she was willing to waste so much of her youth on things that would look good on college applications.

“Dad, I'm about to be 15. I want to help people. Plus, if I volunteer for the hospital, they’ll know my face by the time I start medical school!” she seemed so excited for this opportunity. I put the pen to paper and signed. “just make sure your home enough to spend time with your old man.” I told her as I handed her the papers. She smiled at me, with a squeal of excitement escaping her lips. “thank you, dad!” she got up and hugged me.

I’d do anything to make my baby girl happy, even if it means I will see her just a little less.

Beth seemed to enjoy her time volunteering, coming home with a big smile every evening. She would tell me what she did in the day with a joyous look in her wide eyes. But as the weeks went by, those smiles turned to furrowed brows and worry in her eyes. She stopped telling me about her days. She would often shield me from her emotions, but I’ve never seen her this worked up about something.

“Beth, please. I-I know something is wrong.” I pleaded. We were seated at the kitchen table, after having a wordless dinner.

“Nothing is wrong, dad. I have a lot of homework,” she said, avoiding my gaze and my question. She began to gather the medical books she had placed on the table. I still pushed for an answer.

“Are you getting bullied? Are you concerned about your grades? Do you have too much on your plate?” I asked. My intention was to bombard her with questions to overwhelm her, to get her to spill. “is it a boy? It’s a boy, isn’t it? I could take care of him if you need me--”

“It’s not any of those,” Beth stated, her voice full of sorrow. She turned slowly and began heading up to her room.

I was at a loss for words. You could almost see how broken she was. It made me a bit insecure that she felt like she couldn’t talk to me about this issue that was clearly weighing heavy on her mind. Granted, since Diane passed away, I had thrown myself into my work, but I always thought I made enough time for Beth. Maybe not.

The next day I reached out to her teachers, and they shared the same concerns.

“Beth is an extremely good student. however, I have seen her slipping recently. I’m glad to see you’re reaching out, usually, I have to do all that.” her English teacher told me, then proceeded to complain about everything under the sun.

“She has seemed very depressed as of late. She’s been asking about sheet music for The Cure.” her band teacher informed me.

“She constantly carries a book about rare diseases and reads it during my lectures. We haven’t even reached that chapter yet!” her health teacher told me.

That last teacher made me raise an eyebrow. Rare diseases? Why would Beth need to know about rare diseases? I had a feeling and not a very good one.

The next day I took Beth to her volunteer hours, as she was about to get out of the car, I told her “I want to see what they got in store for you today. Mind if I tag along?”

She looked concerned, “I’m not sure if they’d let you…”

“I promise I won’t cause any suspicions," I said as I got out of the car, grunting a little. These bones sure aren’t what they used to be. As I followed her into the large beige building, the stale hospital smell hit my nostrils like a truck, as did the memories. This is the hospital Diane took her final breaths in. Beth may be too young to remember, but I sure as hell do. Some of the orderlies even look familiar, as they glance at us with what seem to be knowing eyes. They look at Beth’s dismal eyes, then look at mine—they just know something happened that shook our family.

We turned a maze of several corners which lead to a large orange elevator with the words ‘elevate your health!’ printed in big white letters. I rolled my eyes. Hospitals aren’t really places for much healing when it’s really needed. When we got in the spacious elevator, I got my first good look at Beth since we got out of the car. Worry as written all over her, she was desperately avoiding my gaze. Her small fingers twisting themselves in knots as she fidgeted. It was something here, it became blatantly clear. Her worry was contagious, as I suddenly felt a sharp stab of thoughts hit me.

The elevator dinged, I followed Beth toward a nurse’s station. The woman behind there smiled at us as we approached. Her red curls bounced as she got up from her rolling chair. Beth mustered a brave face, “Hello Nurse Bernice, this is my father, he wanted to see what I do here.”

The nurse looked at me, her deep amber eyes complimented her dark complexation, her smile lines very pronounced. She was probably late 30s, early 40s at the most. I almost forgot to introduce myself, “I’m Rick Sanchez. I just wanted to see what itinerary you have laid out for my daughter. She’s been coming home stressed recently.”

“Well, Mr. Sanchez, I don’t think we have too much on her sweet little shoulders,” she said as she grabbed a clipboard and handed it to Beth, who was smiling sheepishly. “Now Beth, you’re going to be checking in on your regulars this afternoon. Mr. Opiman got discharged this morning, so it’ll only be Mr. Marion and Ms. Doe.” Beth’s smile slowly faded, she nodded as she put on her badge. She looked up at me and motioned for me to follow her.

Her first ‘patient’, Mr. Marion, was fast asleep. “His chart mentions they upped his dosage of morphine as his surgical site had to be reopened today,” she said in a quiet voice, as not to wake him. She checked his vitals on the monitor next to his bed, and it suddenly became clear to me that she knew exactly what she was doing. She knew what all these terms and numbers meant. I stood there almost slack-jawed because I never realized how much of a genius my daughter was. I also realized Mr. Marion was probably not what has gotten her so worked up. She made notes on her clipboard and even gently checked on his surgery site, which was on his right foot. The blood had appeared to seep through his bandages earlier, leaving a stain on his sheets. The bandage on his foot was now clean. We left the room without waking her patient up.

We headed to the next patient room, and I could see that Beth was walking much slower. She opened the door, and the sunlight hit our faces hard. The woman was sitting up on the edge of her bed, staring out the window at the bright orange and purple sunset. Upon hearing us enter, she peered over her shoulder. Once she saw Beth, she turned toward us and beamed a big smile.

“Oh Beth, I’m so happy to see you!” Ms. Doe said cheerfully. Her voice was slightly deep and seemed very strained as though she had been screaming for hours. She had bruises all over her, including a black eye and what looked like handprints on her neck. She looked up at me and her mouth closed but kept a smile. Upon looking over at Beth, I was surprised. All those worries melted away, she seemed remarkably happy. “You must be Beth’s father. I’m Jane Doe, or at least that’s what they call me around here.”

I stood there entirely confused about what was going on.