#with my family history I just assume the first doctor I see is lying to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Note

Your idea of madam nie!jgy is really good could u wrt that ?

for those who don’t remember, the Madame Nie!JGY idea is here and here

- on ao3 -

Untamed verse

Paperwork.

The bane of Nie Huaisang’s life.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know he was moderately clever, sometimes scaling up to very clever if he was irritated, but somehow he’d never had the ability to keep facts and figures and exact sentences straight in his head. Any teaching done through rote memorization (in other words, most of it) was wasted on him, and the few things he could keep track of, usually in over-abundant and hyper-specific detail, weren’t the sorts of things that were especially helpful.

Or, well, they were helpful in figuring out what clothing to wear or whether art was good or bad, and occasionally in being able to figure out where people should sit in a hall in order to either minimize or maximize the opportunity for incidents that would create gossip, but they really weren’t helpful if what you were trying to do was run a very large and very industrious sect.

His brother handled the majority of it, of course, as sect leader, and naturally he hadn’t stinted on hiring talented deputies – admittedly, the Nie sect threw around the word deputy the way an especially enthusiastic firefighter tossed around water and sand, but most sects had a more settled bureaucracy in place than the Nie sect did and it was an important position, even if it was usually just a gateway to being put somewhere you actually fit rather than a permanent spot for most people – but in the end there were some things that required the signature of a member of the Nie clan and Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang very reluctantly supposed (if he had to), couldn’t do everything.

He groaned and put his head down on the table.

This never happened when Meng Yao was here, he thought bitterly.

Meng Yao had been one of his brother’s finds, someone he’d promoted in a fit of temper as usual, but to just about everyone’s surprise he had turned out to be amazing at logistics and organization, able to quickly gain expertise in really everything and anything a sect needed to run. After a few months he knew most things, and the things he didn’t know he could either figure out or speculate on with relative accuracy. He’d been amazingly efficient, and it had made Nie Mingjue happy – happy not just to have such good help and to have his taste in subordinates confirmed, but also to see Meng Yao flourishing as his deputy, his real deputy, to see him pleased and respected the way his talents so obviously deserved…

Nie Huaisang sighed. If only his stupid brother had gone ahead and just sworn brotherhood with Meng Yao when the idea had been proposed!

If only he’d done that, Nie Huaisang could have been acting cute and calling Meng Yao – no, wait, it was Jin Guangyao now, he kept forgetting – he could have been calling him ‘san-ge’ right now and hanging off his arm and soon enough Jin Guangyao would yield and do all the work for him, leaving only the actual signing for Nie Huaisang to do. And the work would’ve gotten done better than he would have ever done it, in less time, and he could’ve been spending his precious time doing literally anything else.

Ugh.

Well, he supposed it wasn’t entirely his brother’s fault that the whole plan hadn’t gone through. He hadn’t been the one to back out of the brotherhood idea – that’d been Lan Xichen, for some reason, even though he’d been the one to originally propose the idea, and obviously Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao weren’t going to swear brotherhood without him. It was Venerated Triad, not Venerated Duo.

It was just so unfortunate that the absence of a sworn brother relationship meant that Nie Huaisang had no basis to ask Jin Guangyao to help him out. Or, while he was imagining things, why not just go all the way and imagine that Jin Guangyao could just come back to Qinghe already.

He could run things in a way that made sense and was efficient, which would reduce Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, and Nie Mingjue’s stress levels going down meant that Nie Huaisang’s stress would go down. Way down. And Jin Guangyao’s stress levels would also be way down as well by virtue of, well, being back at Qinghe, where things made sense and he didn’t have to deal with his awful family of his which he seemed to value for some reason that Nie Huaisang didn’t understand and honestly didn’t want to understand. It’d be a win all around!

Ugh.

Life was just better when Jin Guangyao was around.

But what could be done about it? He couldn’t exactly suggest being sworn brothers with Jin Guangyao himself – you needed to do something impressive together to justify that, usually – and for all that he had his brother wrapped around his little finger, he knew perfectly well that Nie Mingjue might hire an unknown man as a deputy in a fit of temper but he’d never hire someone he fired, even if Jin Guangyao were willing to take the role of deputy again. Which he probably wasn’t now that he was all legitimate and recognized and stuff; it was probably beneath him.

If only there were another position available, something not a deputy, not a sworn brother, something where he could just run the Nie sect for the good of everyone –

Wait.

There was.

And, thanks to his brother’s misanthropic ways, the position was available.

Perfect!

“Congratulations, da-ge!” Nie Huaisang announced grandly, sweeping into his brother’s study.

“Just tell the treasury to cover the cost of whatever it is you broke or bought,” Nie Mingjue said without looking up, which, first, rude, and second, really? Awesome. Nie Huaisang was going to get so much mileage out of that one.

“Oh, da-ge, really. I wasn’t talking about me –”

“A miracle.”

“– shut up. I was congratulating you! It’s what little brothers like me should do for big brothers like you on the event of their engagement!”

There was a silence of about five deep breaths.

(Or at least, that’s how long Nie Huaisang assumed it was, provided that his brother was listening to his doctor’s orders about managing his anger, which he had damn well better be.)

Nie Mingjue put down the piece of paper he was working on, and gently laid down his brush to avoid breaking it like so many of the others, and looked up at Nie Huaisang, fixing all of his attention on him.

“Huaisang,” he said, his voice only slightly above a growl. “My what now?”

“Your engagement!” Nie Huaisang beamed at him. “The Sunshot Campaign is over, our father is avenged, and you’re already in your mid-twenties – that means it’s time to get moving on finding the perfect Madame Nie, and I’ve got a great candidate in mind for you.”

His brother looked uncomfortable. “Huaisang,” he said, and his voice was almost delicate. “You are aware…”

“I’ve taken your preferences into account,” Nie Huaisang assured him, and he was only mostly lying. His brother had liked Meng Yao a great deal, once upon a time, and even if they’d never actually slept together – his stupid anti-social brother probably hadn’t even hinted that he might be interested, what with the power differential and Meng Yao’s unfortunate familial history – there was no reason he couldn’t like Jin Guangyao, too, if only he’d give him a chance. Just because he didn’t like him right now didn’t mean anything about his preferences generally. “It’s not like I missed the vast increase in the amount of cutsleeve pornography in our library, okay?”

“That was not me.”

“I know it wasn’t you, but you got the benefit of it, didn’t you? Like I said: don’t worry. It’s a man. You can stop worrying, relax, and let me handle it.”

His brother’s face was doing the skeptical look again, the one where he looked like he was seriously doubting Nie Huaisang’s ability to put on clothing in the morning. He wasn’t five anymore, da-ge! Okay, eight, but only because he kept putting stuff on backwards while he was rushing. Maybe ten for formal clothing... “No, Huaisang.”

“No, really, I can –”

“The answer is no, Huaisang.”

That sounded depressingly final.

“What if I do the puppy eyes at you?”

“The answer is still no,” his brother said, going back to his paperwork, although he was smiling a little. “No, you may not set up an engagement for me; no, I will not agree; no.”

Damnit.

Okay, maybe Nie Huaisang should be tackling this from a different angle.

“It’s so good to see you!” Nie Huaisang gushed. He wasn’t entirely sure what to call Jin Guangyao now – after all, the other man was a few years his senior, and now that he was recognized by his father there wasn’t a class difference that would make it permissible for Nie Huaisang to call him by name the way he’d used to call Meng Yao. But they’d known each other for years, so Jin-qianbei might come off as pretentious and too formal, Jin-gongzi was definitely too formal, and were they really at the stage where he could call him Jin-xiong?

(Plus he already called Jin Zixuan Jin-xiong, so he’d have to figure out where Meng Yao fell in the hierarchy – except no one had ever clarified one way or the other. He was pretty sure Meng Yao was older, but even if he was it probably wasn’t appropriate to go around calling him Jin-da-ge.)

Now, Nie Huaisang had more or less made it his life policy to adopt virtual strangers as brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles, the more the better, but he also didn’t want to offend Jin Guangyao by making it seem like he didn’t respect his new position.

Especially when he wanted Jin Guangyao to do something for him.

“It’s good to see you too, Nie-gongzi,” Jin Guangyao said, and no, that wouldn’t do at all.

Nie Huaisang poked at him with his fan. “How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Huaisang, the way da-ge does. You were almost my san-ge, remember?”

“Nie-gongzi…”

“Huaisang!”

Jin Guangyao had an indulgent look on his face. “Very well, Huaisang.”

“Anyway, I know you’re busy with dealing with sect things – that hunt last month was great, sorry about da-ge being overenthusiastic but at least he had a really good time – and stuff like that, but I just wanted to swing by Lanling to congratulate you!” Nie Huaisang said, deciding to take the moment to barrel onwards. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last time, and so much has happened since you left Qinghe! You got accepted into the Jin sect! Recognized by your father! Given a name! A fancy title! A position! An engagement! A nice hat!”

“I’m sorry,” Jin Guangyao said. “I got a what?”

“A nice hat!”

“Nice try, Huaisang.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t even know who I’m setting you up with yet!” Nie Huaisang whined. “And it’s not like you don’t want to get married! Weren’t you thinking of marrying the Qin sect’s girl? I mean, before they backed out on account of swearing vengeance against your father and the Jin sect and all…”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, gentle and polite as always, but in his own way just as firm as Nie Mingjue. They really would be a good match, and not just because it’d make Nie Huaisang’s life so much easier. “But I’m really much too busy to think about anything like that. Matters in the Jin sect, you understand…”

“But –”

“Huaisang, please.”

Damnit.

Nie Huaisang was going to need to think about this.

He hated thinking.

“It’s just so unfair,” Nie Huaisang moaned. “Why do people insist on making things hard? When it could be so easy if only they’d listen…”

“It sounds like a real tragedy,” Lan Xichen said, pouring him a cup of tea.

He was just barely managing to resist smiling, which was good – he didn’t smile that much anymore, not since whatever it was that happened to him a month or two back around the time the sworn brother ceremony was supposed to happen. No one knew what it was that happened, not even Lan Wangji (Nie Huaisang had asked), but it was making everyone worried; Nie Mingjue had wanted to go over to demand answers practically ever since but things just kept happening.

Mostly due to Lan Xichen, actually, now that Nie Huaisang thought about it.

First there was that failed sworn brotherhood thing – he’d been the one pushing the idea in the first place, but only a week before they actually did the ceremony Lan Xichen had suddenly showed up at the Unclean Realm, bursting into Nie Mingjue’s bedroom while he was resting during his recovery from the events at the Nightless City, and insisted they call the whole thing off. He’d been pale, his eyes wide and scared, but he’d refused to explain anything no matter how many times Nie Mingjue asked; he’d only been sad and oddly clingy for the entire week, refusing to leave until the planned date of the sworn brotherhood ceremony had passed with it unfulfilled.

Then he’d gone home, and things had seemed to be fine, only after the hunt at Phoenix Mountain and Wei Wuxian’s impromptu theft of a bunch of Wen prisoners of war – neither of which appeared to be due to Lan Xichen, admittedly – and right when everyone had been gearing up to go make a big fuss over it, Lan Xichen had abruptly revealed that he’d been investigating the Jin sect and they were up to their necks in all sorts of unfortunate things.

Secret demonic cultivation experiments, which one might understand, and buying corpses, a subject on which the Nie sect had always been remarkably open-minded, but also stealing beloved corpses and tomb robbing, more-than-likely murder, possibly even massacres of entire small clans, all as part of their experiments, and to top it all off there were a whole big number of rapes attributed to Jin Guangshan personally.

Madame Qin among them, which was why Jin Guangyao’s original marriage plans had fallen through. It wasn’t even worth considering it, not when there was a risk that poor Qin Su, who’d had such a crush on the gallant Jin Guangyao, might be his sister…

Anyway, while the Jin were still too powerful, as a Great Sect, to fully suffer the consequences of their actions, the Jin sect had been disgraced at the very moment that they thought they were on the rise. Jin Guangshan had even been talking about taking up the post of Chief Cultivator following Wen Ruohan’s demise, which he might have been able to swing since Nie Mingjue thought the idea of having a Chief Cultivator at all was bullshit, but now obviously that was completely out of the question.

Plus the whole thing had retroactively cleared Wei Wuxian’s name, leaving him free and clear to return to the Jiang sect as a hero who stood up against Jin sect presumptuousness and overreach when no one else would, which was a pretty big change from his previous political position, which was being widely known as an arrogant and dangerous hothead on the verge of being cast out of the sect for the good of the cultivation world at large despite them very, very obviously not wanting to do it.

Wei Wuxian had even been able to bring the Wen sect members he’d rescued back to the Lotus Pier with him, and now there was even talk that Jiang Cheng might marry Wen Qing (as someone who went to the Cloud Recesses lectures with them both, Nie Huaisang wasn’t surprised by the suggestion at all) once his sister concluded her marriage with Jin Zixuan, which was going to be a far less sumptuous affair than originally planned. After all, the politics of the situation had reversed almost entirely, with the disgraced Jin sect needing the marriage to the reputable (and, thanks in large part to Wei Wuxian, powerful) Jiang sect to help keep what was left of their reputation and influence intact.

Perhaps the Jin sect’s crimes were the reason that Lan Xichen had been acting strangely distant from Jin Guangyao, even though no one had ever proven anything about his involvement – Jin Guangshan’s attempt to throw the blame entirely on his newly adopted son were dismissed as the fabrications they so obviously were – but Nie Huaisang wasn’t so sure.

Lan Xichen wasn’t the sort of person to worry about politics, after all. But then why…?

“Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Lan Xichen asked, settling in his own seat with his own cup of tea. He looked very serious, as if Nie Huaisang’s opinion on things mattered to him.

It was nice. Most people just looked really long-suffering when they talked with Nie Huaisang, and those were the people that actually liked him.

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said. “So. Theoretically, if a person were trying to set up a marriage between, hypothetically, two people who would be perfect for each other, and I do mean disgustingly everything-would-be-wonderful-for-everyone sort of perfect, and they were just, you know, refusing for absolutely no valid reason other than their own stupid issues –”

“How in the world did you figure out that I was trying to get Wangji to confess his affections to Wei Wuxian?” Lan Xichen said, sounding stunned. “I didn’t tell anyone…You really are a genius, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang blinked, then lifted his head off the table, settling his chin on his hands.

“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” he admitted. “But now you have my full attention and I don’t care about my issue anymore. Tell me everything.”

“So, fun fact!” Nie Huaisang said, bouncing into his brother’s bedroom just in time to help him undo his braids before sleep. It was his favorite chore, no matter how much his brother protested that it wasn’t a chore and also that he’d been doing it for himself for years and seriously he could do it himself if Nie Huaisang wasn’t so stupidly possessive about being the only one allowed to do it any time they were both at home with violations punished of having Nie Mingjue’s fingers smacked with Nie Huaisang’s fan, all of which Nie Huaisang treated as the irrelevant and pointless statements they were. “I was just over at the Cloud Recesses visiting Xichen-xiong and he’s clearly super into me.”

“What,” his brother said.

Nie Huaisang cackled and dug his fingers into his brother’s thick hair – he was so jealous, his own was thin and stringy and brushing it definitely did not feel like petting a tiger the way it did when he did Nie Mingjue’s hair. He watched in the mirror with satisfaction as his brother’s shoulders immediately relaxed, all the anger and tension flowing out of them at once as a result of Nie Huaisang’s careful training over the years, although Nie Mingjue’s eyebrows still stayed sky high.

“I’m serious!” Nie Huaisang said, starting to release the braids. “He said that he respects me, and that he thinks I’m a genius. He has to have a thing for me. The only possible reason anyone would respect me is if all the blood had left their brain and they were blinded by my overwhelming prettiness!”

His brother seemed torn between denying Nie Huaisang’s statement that no one could respect him and telling him to stop being so full of himself about the overwhelming prettiness comment.

“Maybe Xichen just went insane,” he ended up saying instead. “That seems marginally more likely.”

“An excellent point,” Nie Huaisang acknowledged because, well, it was. “Now, totally unrelatedly, did you know that the Jin sect is treating poor Jin Guangyao just awful? Madame Jin throws things and Sect Leader Jin yells and blames him for stuff and it’s just so sad, we should do something about it.”

“Something like invite him here to live as my brand new bride, I’m guessing,” Nie Mingjue said, voice extremely dry. “You’re incredibly not subtle.”

Nie Huaisang freed a hand and held up a finger pointedly. “Ah, ah! Xichen-xiong says I’m a genius.”

His brother fell silent for a few moments. “You’re right,” he finally said. “He must have a crush on you. Not even insanity would explain this.”

Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“Also, really, Meng Yao?” Nie Mingjue asked. “That was who you were planning on setting me up with? You have to know that wouldn’t work.” He shifted in his chair. “…are they really beating him there?”

Huh, maybe Lan Xichen was right and Nie Huaisang really was a genius.

He wisely decided not to answer – it would work better if his brother investigated and found out the (admittedly fairly awful, according to the servants’ gossip) details for himself – and instead said, “Why’d you kick him out, anyway? I thought he got stabbed saving you. Whatever he did, how big of a deal could it have been, really?”

“He committed premeditated murder. In the middle of an attack on the sect, no less.”

Damnit, Meng Yao! Can’t you make things easy on me for once?!

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang said, tugging on one of the braids until Nie Mingjue, who’d tensed up, relaxed again. It was a nice that his brother was so easily trainable, or at least he was on everything other than saber practice. Surely that was a selling point that Jin Guangyao could appreciate in a man? “Uh. Have you considered that, uh – well, maybe it could have been justified?”

“I asked him for an explanation,” Nie Mingjue growled. “His reason boiled down to ‘that guy was a dick to me’.”

“Wow,” Nie Huaisang said. “I have such strong empathy for Meng Yao’s position, you have no idea.”

“Huaisang.”

“I’m just saying, if we could stab everyone who acted like a dick…”

“Huaisang. No.”

“You know you want to.”

“But I don’t,” Nie Mingjue insisted. “He used the cover of battle, a Wen sword…he even tried to blame Xue Yang for it when I literally saw him holding the sword in his hand! I should have executed him right then and there, and I would have, if he hadn’t saved my life.”

A tricky one, Nie Huaisang thought. But not a match for me, Nie Huaisang: Lan Xichen-certified genius.

“Okay,” he said. “But…you already punished him for that, right? You exiled him. He was exiled. It was all very sad, tears were shed, mostly by me but also a bit by you – we’re an emotional family – and just possibly by Meng Yao, though who even knows, maybe Jin Guangshan’s spawn are all born without tear ducts as a congenital deficiency. But any way you look at it, it’s done now, and that means he can come back!”

“Huaisang. That’s not how exile works.”

“Uh, I think you’ll find that it does,” Nie Huaisang said haughtily. “There are at least five incidents in the Nie sect’s history where something comparable has happened.”

“Really.” His brother’s voice was very, very dry.

“Really,” Nie Huaisang insisted.

“And you, with your amazing ability to retain facts, know this…how?”

“Okay fine, I made that up,” Nie Huaisang confessed. “But I will find some and prove to you that it’s a thing! And then you’ll have no choice but to agree with my plan!”

“That’s not how that works, either,” Nie Mingjue said. “But if you’re willing to knuckle down and do the historical research to justify your bullshit, I’ll – consider it.”

“I will! You’ll see!”

“Xichen-xiong!” Nie Huaisang wept, clinging onto Lan Xichen’s arm. “You have to help me! There are so many books! And they’re all so long! They’re doing it just to spite me personally!”

Lan Xichen managed, with a truly remarkable amount of skill, to detach Nie Huaisang from his arm and settle him down in a chair in record time. If Nie Huaisang didn’t know better, he would have guessed that he’d done it before dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times, but of course they didn’t know each other that well.

Pity, that. Nie Huaisang might not need him as urgently as he needed Jin Guangyao, but losing out on having Lan Xichen as his er-ge was also a big downside of the whole not-swearing-brotherhood thing.

“What’s the problem this time, Huaisang?” Lan Xichen asked. He did not seem all that concerned, which...yeah, fair.

“I need you to do some research for me,” Nie Huaisang said, batting his eyelashes at him to see if that would work. “Nie sect history. Please?”

Lan Xichen tensed a little. It was a minute gesture, barely even noticeable. “On…what subject? Does your brother know?”

“Free passage laws and border restrictions,” Nie Huaisang said, and Lan Xichen visibly relaxed. “And of course he knows, he assigned it! Do you think I would do boring old historical research for fun?”

Lan Xichen smiled again, and Nie Huaisang counted it as a victory.

“All right, I’ll help,” he said indulgently, then paused. “Just…this isn’t part of some scheme, right?”

“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang said, injured. “Why would you even ask that? I am the most scheme-less person you could ever meet in your life. There are newborn baby rabbits that are more scheming than me!”

This was because newborn baby rabbits were dicks. Lan Wangji made him hold one once and Nie Huaisang was pretty sure it deliberately pissed on his fingers.

Lan Xichen coughed into his sleeve, just barely managing not to laugh in face. “I’m sure you are. No reason for asking. Did you bring the records you wanted me to look through?”

“By total coincidence, in fact, I did! Not that I would assume that you’d agree, of course.”

“…of course, Huaisang.”

“Jin-xiong!” Yes, Nie Huaisang was going for it; Jin Zixuan was just going to have to deal. “Jin-xiong, I have been informed by reliable sources that you’re a big fan of power, am I right?”

Jin Guangyao actually reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose – he must be very tired, to react that way while Nie Huaisang was still present.

In fairness, he really had been having a hard time of it recently. Even putting aside how awful it must be to live with Sect Leader Jin and his wife – it was no surprise (to Nie Huaisang, anyway) that their own son and heir spent a disturbingly large portion of his time visiting the Lotus Pier with his wife, even accounting for having to deal with the world’s most over-protective brothers-in-law – there were all the problems the Jin sect was having, the way Sect Leader Jin’s nasty and arrogant reactions to being challenged only seemed to be making it all worse, and then of course there was also the fact that Nie Mingjue had literally punched Sect Leader Jin in the face after he’d come in unexpectedly and caught him throwing a cup of tea on Jin Guangyao.

(That particular disaster was still ongoing, actually, and at very high volume – Jin Guangyao had been waiting anxiously outside the door, which wasn’t going to do him a single bit of good, but luckily for him Nie Huaisang was here to distract him from all of his troubles. Wasn’t Nie Huaisang a wonderfully nice person?)

“Jin-xiong,” Nie Huaisang whined, tugging on Jin Guangyao’s sleeve until the other man had no choice but to follow him further down the hallway and further away from the receiving room where the current Nie-Jin shouting session was happening behind them. “Tell me. Am I right?”

“You’re really excitable today, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said instead of answering. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Actually, I really, really, really hate flying on my saber and I’ve had to do it so often recently, it’s been terrible, you have no idea how much I’ve suffered, but I’m at least marginally hopeful that it’ll all be worth it in the end. But enough about me. You, power…how would you really like to tell your father and his wife where to shove it?”

“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said helplessly. “We’re in the middle of Koi Tower. Can you at least keep your voice down?”

Pssh, like Nie Huaisang cared what some Jin sect retainers thought. His brother just punched their sect leader in the face, what in the world was he going to do that would top that?

“Really,” he insisted, deciding to ignore Jin Guangyao’s clearly misplaced objections. “Consider it for a moment. How would you like to obtain fame, power, wealth, legitimacy – of the public-recognition variety, not the familial sort, you got that already – the ability to rub your success into your father’s face and also possibly jump up and down on it a few times, and, just as a bonus, also maybe become Chief Cultivator?”

Technically, wife of the Chief Cultivator, but in reality there was no way he wouldn’t be the one doing all the work. People were being really insistent about there being one, and with Jin Guangshan out of the picture, Lan Xichen acting weirdly shifty, and Jiang Cheng being Jiang Cheng, the entire cultivation world were all currently forming a consensus that it was going to be Nie Mingjue regardless of whether he actually agreed to take the job. So if Nie Huaisang’s poor beleaguered big brother was going to get stuck with the title, why not give the work to someone who’d actually enjoy it?

“Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao said, and his voice was so overtly sorrowful and pathetic that Nie Huaisang actually stopped to goggle at him. “I have never once sought personal power nor pursued ambition on my own behalf, and I regret that you think of me in that way.”

He paused for a moment.

“You can keep talking, though.”

“Excellent,” Nie Huaisang said. “So the plan is –”

“Forgive my language,” Lan Xichen said, his voice a little strangled. “But what the fuck?”

Nie Huaisang giggled. “I didn’t know the Lan sect permitted swearing.”

“It doesn’t. I’ll punish myself later,” Lan Xichen said, still staring blankly into space. “I just…they’re getting married? All those changes, and they end up getting married?”

“Technically, they’re eloping,” Nie Huaisang said. “Since they’re not actually getting Jin-xiong’s father’s permission and all…oh, Madame Jin looks angry enough to eat glass. I love weddings!”

Lan Xichen turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“Huaisang,” he said warningly. “This was a scheme on your part, wasn’t it?”

“Uh, I mean, okay, maybe a little,” Nie Huaisang confessed. “But only a little. A mini-scheme. A micro-plot. A stratagem. Oooh, did I intrigue? I like that. I’m intriguing.”

“You certainly are that,” Lan Xichen said dryly. “But…why?”

“Because now Jin-xiong – we can still call him that, right? I don’t think his father has the right to take back the name once it’s given, even if he does go ahead and disown him the way he’s threatening to – now Jin-xiong can do all the paperwork and make things run efficiently back home, and also it’s now totally in his best interest to make sure my brother stays sect leader and Chief Cultivator forever because otherwise he loses the basis of his own power,” Nie Huaisang explained. “And thus far I haven’t seen anything that Jin-xiong – oh, I can call him sao-zi now, that’s much more straightforward! – anything that he can’t do if he puts his mind to it. Which means I am now guaranteed to have a nice long life full of sweet, blissful nothing! No responsibilities! Freedom!”

He paused.

“Oh, and obviously they’ll be great together, really happy and all that,” he added. “That’s important too.”

Lan Xichen put his hand up to his forehead, but he was smiling broadly now – not the tiny little smiles Nie Huaisang had managed to steal up out of him up until now, but a big old grin.

“Anyway, now that that’s over and done with, I promise, no more schemes,” Nie Huaisang added, putting his hand on his heart. “This is the last one, okay? If you don’t believe me, you can write it into our marriage vows.”

Lan Xichen huffed a little, clearly not believing him, but he sounded fond about it. “Whatever you say, Huaisang – wait. Hold on. Our what?”

“Our marriage vows,” Nie Huaisang explained. “At our marriage. On account of your total inexplicable crush on me, which upon reflection I have generously decided to accept and return your affections.”

Lan Xichen’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish.

“Of course, we’re not going to be so lucky as to just elope,” Nie Huaisang continued thoughtfully. “Da-ge can’t have a proper wedding ceremony because people will be too afraid of irritating Sect Leader Jin to attend, but if we have a nice big party to announce my engagement to you, well, that’s different, right? They can all come to that. It’ll be like a secret-not-secret wedding that everyone knows is a wedding but with the plausible deniability that it’s totally just an engagement party. But if we have the big announcement, there’s no getting out of doing all the steps and rituals and whatnot, and, oh, we’ll have to deal with your uncle and our elders…it’ll be a disaster, really. So much work!”

He sighed. “Oh, the things I do for you, Xichen-gege! You’re very lucky I like you so much!”

Lan Wangji cleared his throat behind them both, and they turned to look at him – he was standing there with his arm around Wei Wuxian’s waist, which was more or less the same posture he was always in these days. Now that was one marriage – arranged as it might have been originally, with Lan Xichen pressuring Jiang Cheng until he agreed – that had gone very well, even if Lan Wangji was still a little cold with his brother over the extremely aggressive tactics he had employed in getting them together.

“Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials, brother,” Lan Wangji said, somewhat stone faced. “It couldn’t have happened to someone more deserving.”

Wei Wuxian, by his side, smiled and nodded. “If you’d like any help planning the wedding –” he started to say.

“Oh, would you?” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, clapping his hands in excitement. “Wei-xiong, you’re the best. We’re going to need at least a thousand of those spirit summon flags of yours.”

“A – a thousand? Do you know how long it’ll take me to draw a thousand talismans?!”

“Well, how else will we guarantee that we have a hunt so impressive that no one will ever stop talking about it?” Nie Huaisang asked, because obviously that’s what his da-ge would have wanted for his own wedding and since Nie Huaisang messed that up for his own purposes, having it at his was the least he could do to make it up to him.

Best of all, as the bride, he’d be all decked out in jewelry and fancy clothing and exactly nobody would expect him to participate. Win-win!

“Chop-chop, Wei-xiong! The wedding’s happening sooner rather than later, so if you think you’re going to have problems keeping up with demand, I’ll send some Nie sect disciples with decent handwriting over to you to learn. I think some of the people sao-zi is bringing with him from the Jin sect have some background in demonic cultivation too, I don’t know, but I’ll find out and let you know as soon as possible. You need to train up some people anyway so that you can ramp up production – once you start selling your talismans, more people will use them, and people will be much less afraid of you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were both gaping at him. Possibly he had used too many words at once for them – or maybe it was just the speed in which he’d said it?

Lan Xichen started laughing.

“This is fine,” he said, wiping his eyes. “It’s just so much better than – yes, this is fine.”

Nie Huaisang was glad he agreed.

It meant the epic getting-together scheme that he’d had half-planned in the back of his mind in the event Lan Xichen said no could be safely shelved for another day.

Victory!

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #nieyao #xisang #my fic #my fics #letitdevour #intriuging

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matildashoney · 4 years ago

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𝙸 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝙰𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎? // 𝙰𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚆𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚎

𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝚂 // 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 // 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 // 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚁: 𝙱𝙸𝙿𝙾𝙻𝙰𝚁 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙴𝚁, 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙿𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙻𝚂, 𝙰𝙽𝚇𝙸𝙴𝚃𝚈

𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜, 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 @theharriediaries 𝚊𝚗𝚍 @truckerhatharry 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚊-𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚒'𝚖 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

Truthfully, Harry isn’t sure what time it is, this time around. Clocks seem to evade him, and numbers seem to dance into intricate formations that he can’t seemingly understand.

Harry Styles stops time when he walks into the room. Caroline always says that it’s the commanding presence, the nature of his personality, the way he holds everyone’s attention so easily that makes him stop an entire room and gain their attention. Caroline always says that Harry is the type to make everyone know they’re important and needed in the space, that there isn’t one person that would be in the group or the audience or the meeting that wouldn’t feel like they’re an essential part of whatever is happening.

Caroline always says that Harry makes her feel that way.

Harry makes the effort to be this way if he’s being honest. Harry makes the effort to hold everyone’s attention and make everyone feel important, because, for years, he portrayed the demeanor of someone who thought he was the most important person in the room, that he was where all the attention should be. That is until he met someone who made him see how truly minuscule in the affairs of universes and worldly happenings, he is. That is until Harry met Caroline, and he realized that there was nothing more that he wanted than to know everything and anything about her, instead of talking about himself, for once.

Until Harry met Caroline, and everything changed.

Harry isn’t sure what time it is, right now. Green eyes stare at the stark white walls surrounding him, his head leaning against a concrete foundation and the clicking of the clocks on the wall – and yet, he still can’t seem to find the time from anyone – and a raging headache forming at the forefront of his mind. His eyes shut quickly, squeezing closed to try and make the time pass any quicker than it is. Time is going so slowly, though, that he thinks he might scream. Harry wants to scream, honestly. That might make the pain easier to swallow, the heartache easier to handle.

Going based on the trajectory of the situation and where they are, Harry would be going home alone, tonight, and that’s a pill that he’s not prepared to swallow quite yet. That, and the idea that someone might tell him something that he really doesn’t want to hear, something about Caroline that will break him at the core.

Caroline wasn’t … you know … right?

Thinking that makes Harry want to be sick. There would have been a sign. There would have been some sort of something if she was. There would have been a note, a letter, something. And yet, there was nothing when Harry came home; nothing that could give him a sign or a clue or something that will tell him if he needs to worry or not.

Harry couldn’t make sense of it.

“Mr. Styles,” the nurse says, coming through a hallway and gently touching his shoulder to garner his attention, her soft demeanor comforting him as he looks with exhausted and bloodshot eyes, tears staining his cheeks. “Unfortunately, we have to keep Ms. Ryan for the twenty-four-hour waiting period, with her history and her family history, to make sure she’s not trying to hurt herself or others.” Harry nods understandingly without saying a word – that much was expected – and stands on his feet, ready to see his fiancée, finally. “Honestly, based on Ms. Ryan’s previous welfare checks and hospital stays, the doctor was not expecting it to go as well as it did. Ms. Ryan’s welfare check went much better than the others in her history, which is great news.”

“Think that we both know my wife isn’t okay, but is she okay enough for me to see her?” Harry asks nervously, unsure of the technical aspects of a hospital stay and the regulations that they’re going to have to follow. Caroline has never had this bad of an episode in their time together, and this has scared Harry more than anything. “Am I allowed to see her? I really want to see her. I’ll follow whatever regulations you have, but if I could see her, that would be really kind of you.”

That’s the first time Harry’s said the word out loud. Wife. Caroline would be Harry’s wife, soon. This could effectively tamper with the timeline and how long that very well takes. Harry doesn’t care about any of that like he knows Caroline will. Harry cares about Caroline getting better and coming home.

“Of course, Mr. Styles. Caroline can have visitors, now, and you can see her, stay with her, too. Caroline is dehydrated, mainly, and malnourished from not eating for a week, so she’s hooked up to a lot of machines, just so you’re aware,” the nurse says smoothly and calmly, checking her notes on her clipboard and reading technical terms that Harry can’t seem to grasp or understand. “Caroline is not suicidal, though. Truthfully, that’s what counts, right now. That’s what everyone cares about.”

Caroline sat in the hospital bed when Harry walks inside with the nurse, with wires clinging to her body, nibbling on a sandwich while he walks right to her and sits at her bedside. Harry swears that he won’t be able to handle seeing her like this, again. Harry wants to be sick just thinking about it. Caroline, naturally, makes a joke about the hospital socks, saying, “My third pair of hospital socks and they’ve finally given me something other than that hideous orange color. Oh, the joys of London Town!”

“Callie,” Harry sighs, shaking his head and breathes out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he leans onto the bed and kisses her forehead as she clicks her heels together in the baby blue sticky socks underneath the blanket and makes the wish for the two to be home, in the comfort of their own bed. Harry thought he couldn’t stay, that he wasn’t allowed, and that killed him, to know that she would be alone in a room by herself, having to sit alone with her thoughts for days. Thankfully, that’s simply not the case, tonight. He doesn’t think he could have handled being alone, tonight, anyways. Not after what he saw. “Callie, you scared the living shit out of me.”

Caroline sets her sandwich on the tray, wipes her hands on her napkin, and opens her blanket. reaching for Harry with wide arms, smiling softly when Harry immediately rushes towards her and circles his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly and breathing in her scent. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that to me, again,” Harry says strictly, sternly, his eyes welling with tears as his fingers gently brush over her cheek and his lips meet her forehead softly. “Caroline, I need you to take this seriously, okay? Baby, you didn’t eat for nearly two weeks.”

Caroline whispers something in Harry’s ear, something that he can’t really understand, and he brushes it away, simply going back to holding her tightly and breathing in the sweet apple scent that lingers in her hair. Harry assumes it was something of another apology, which isn’t something he really wants, per se, it’s more the fact that she didn’t tell him, that she didn’t reach out to him. Harry knows why, and he feels guilty, so guilty.

Caroline doesn’t like bothering Harry when he’s doing business; especially not business that involves moving Shakespeare’s Library to elsewhere in the United Kingdom and would be a great investment opportunity. Caroline doesn’t like being the reason Harry can’t focus – unless it’s for ulterior motives – and the fact of the matter is, Harry wouldn’t have gone away on business if he knew Caroline was about to face an episode like she is, right now. Caroline and Harry both know that much.

Harry, then, feels incredibly guilty when something of the sort happens, because not only did he not know, but he wasn’t there to fix it. Harry likes to fix it.

“Callie, what happened that made you do this?” Harry wracks his brain trying to find a reason because Caroline was so good before he left. Caroline was writing and eating and functioning before he was set to leave; something must’ve happened in the day that he was flying and settling in that made her break. “What triggered it, Callie? I know something did. I wouldn’t have left you alone if I knew you were in an episode, like that. That’s not how we do things; you’re supposed to tell me. I’m supposed to be there for you, Cal.”

“Harry, it wasn’t anything.”

“Caroline Elizabeth Ryan.” Harry never uses Caroline’s whole name like that. That’s when it occurs to Caroline how poorly Harry is dealing with this, right now. Caroline, usually, only has to worry about how she is dealing with her episodes, she’s nearly forgotten there’s a whole other person on the receiving end, now, a person she loves very deeply. “Does it have to do with your mother? Is Lucy why you’re in here? ‘Cause I swear to God, Callie, I’ll march myself to wherever she has and have a kindly chat with her.”

“My mother has nothing to do with this,” Caroline says through her teeth, and Harry can tell that she’s lying. Caroline’s tell, her quirk, so to speak, is that fact that her jaw clenches tightly and she has to speak through her teeth whenever she’s lying. Caroline doesn’t lie to Harry – it’s one of their boundaries – and it’s easy for him to tell when she is. Harry tilts his head, his eyes pointing at her directly and his lips pursed together in a straight line, his expression saying everything that he isn’t. “Can we talk about this later? I’m exhausted and I missed you. I can hear that you’re angry with me, too. I don’t like that you’re angry, with me, right now.”

“Caroline,” Harry says calmly, sighing out a breath between his lips, shaking his head and sitting on the corner of the makeshift mattress that the hospital has laid her on, “not this time, okay. Can’t, you can’t shy away from this conversation, this time.”

“I’m not ready to have this conversation, Harry.”

Harry’s voice breaks, the tears beginning to fall down his cheeks again and the pain collecting in his throat, the lump that he swallowed down when he walked into the hospital room now resurfacing and bringing the tears to his eyes. “Callie, tell me. This isn’t something to run away from.”

“My mother,” Caroline swallows thickly, her eyes welling with tears at the thought, shaking her head to try and shake the incessant, nagging feeling that she’s going to cry, “she, um, sent me a letter in the mail. It came the day you left.”

“And what did it say, Cal?” That’s what makes Caroline break into hysterics, the six words making tears pour down her cheeks, her chest heaving with shaky breaths, her hands covering her face with her fingertips digging into her eyes, trying to hide the tiny markings her nails are leaving in her face. Harry gently pries her hands away, kissing her fingers and scooting closer to her body, taking her hands in his and holding them tightly. “Baby, tell me.”

Caroline sucks a breath in through her teeth and hurriedly says, “My mother is back in the country with her mother and would appreciate it if, even though we live only a few hours away, I wouldn’t contact her anymore. Lucy said that it’s great that I’m doing well and have my life together, that she’s happy for me, but she would prefer to not have any contact with me.” Harry kisses Caroline’s knuckles and gently wipes at her eyes, the wires getting tangled in their hands. “Harry, why doesn’t she want me?”

“Callie, baby,” Harry sighs, sliding himself closer and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, bringing her into his chest, her face tucking into his neck and immediately wetting his shirt with her tears. Harry doesn’t mind it, he would rather have her crying in his arms than see her unconscious in their bedroom, again. “I’m sorry your mother is so horrible to you. I’m so sorry.”

“All I want is for her to want me, Harry,” Caroline sniffles, shaking her head and feeling done with the conversation, taking her hands from her thighs and wiping her eyes, sighing into Harry’s neck and kissing his skin lightly for comfort. “Kiss? Could really use one, right about now.”

“Always, love. My Buggy.” Harry smiles softly and nudges Caroline’s face with his nose, his lips laying a kiss on her cheek and waiting for her to tilt her head slightly towards him to kiss her mouth. His mouth moves slowly on hers, kissing her sweetly and gently, as though a slightly harsh touch could leave her bruised and bandaged. “Callie, you mean everything to me. More than you’ll ever know.”

“Can’t be more than what you mean to me.” Caroline shakes her head in disapproval. “Hate that you still call me ‘Buggy’, as though I’m still a nuisance, to you, though,” she says, and he laughs breathily, at that, because it’s not the reason he calls her that, now, but it was. Oh God, Harry thought Caroline was such an annoyance when they first met. “Hard to believe I used to hate your guts,” Caroline giggles, tucking her chin to her chest and spinning her engagement ring on her finger, the tiny diamond sitting perfectly on her hand. Harry hates how small it is, but it’s Caroline’s favorite jewellery she’s ever owned. “Oh boy, the hate I had for you. I could’ve beat you up, Harry Styles.”

“Caroline Ryan, all you would’ve done is start to cry.” Harry shakes his head. “Barely a punch to the jaw, which I would’ve deserved, by the way, and you would’ve been in tears. I love you for it, but you wouldn’t handle that very well.”

“Hey!” Harry laughs for the first time in hours, a hearty laugh, a laugh that makes Caroline’s heart swell in her chest and feel like it’s going to burst with how much she loves him. God, Caroline really loves Harry. Like, wholeheartedly in love with him, type of love. “I could’ve done it. I could’ve done it, without crying. Maybe a little stutter-stepping, but I could’ve done it.”

“All right, all right,” Harry sighs, leaning forward and kissing her forehead, lingering on her skin to breathe her in, his eyes squeezing shut when she grabs his cheeks and kisses his mouth, once more. “Have all those tests and meetings with the doctors, tomorrow, and you need your rest.”

Caroline’s eyes go wide. “Can you stay? Do you have to go?”

“I’ll be right there, all night,” he says, pointing towards the makeshift lounger in the corner of the room with blankets and a pillow laying on the cushion. “Callie, I promised you ages ago, I’m not going anywhere.”

Caroline sighs, nodding quietly and pursing her lips together. Harry’s words are true, she knows this with her whole heart, but there is the angry and subconscious part of her brain that tells her that Gabriel Ryan said that, too. Her father said that, too. Caroline swallows a lump in her throat, breathing through her nose and shoving her tray of food away from her, suddenly feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Maybe it was the conversation about her mother, maybe it was the promise that her father broke, maybe it is the idea that Harry is there and no one else cares. Maybe it’s everything all at once making Caroline feel so utterly tired, but her eyes are beginning to shut against her cheeks and her heart rate is beginning to slow. Harry can see that she’s finished by her quiet actions, kissing her cheek and gently moving from the mattress to the lounger, looking at Caroline with concerned eyes as she turns onto her side and yanks the blanket closer around her neck.

“Goodnight, Bug. I love you,” Harry whispers, kissing her forehead and sighing against her skin as she nods her head. Harry can see the depression oncoming, the confession of her mother’s letter and the promise that her father broke lingering in the air. Caroline is great at putting on a façade around everyone else, but with Harry, it’s barely functioning. “Things are going to get better, Callie. Do you trust me?” Caroline nods silently, tears welling in her eyes and beginning to fall down her cheeks. Harry walks to the lounger, cranking the lever and turning out the recliner to lay on for the evening. Caroline’s voice draws his attention, turning away from his bed and listening to her carefully. “Say that one more time, for me, Cal?”

“Can you read me some of your poetry?” she whispers, the lights barely illuminating her eyes that he adores so much. Caroline doesn’t turn around, remaining facing the doorway and listening carefully. “Maybe from when we didn’t like each other so much. Tell me that things get better.”

Harry smiles softly, taking his leather notebook – the one that he carries with him everywhere – and opening to the first page written with an indented ‘C’ in the header. “This is from the day I was late to our very first annotations meeting.”

Caroline giggles, sniffling quietly and then says, “Oh, I was infuriated with you, that day. God, I asked Rigsby for a new annotation partner, too. Think I told you that I hope you never fall in love with someone like me.”

“That’s absolutely correct,” Harry laughs, shaking his head at the memory. Meeting Caroline and the very first few months of knowing her were so difficult, Harry thought they’d never get along. Harry made it a challenge for himself, to have Caroline like him, even the slightest bit, and that started his fascination and infatuation with her; the one that made him fall in love with her. “Are you ready, love?”

Caroline sucks in a breath and rolls to her side, her eyelashes wet against her cheeks as she stares at Harry adoringly, forcing a smile and swallowing back a choked sob as she notices how fully written in this notebook is, how many pages are marked and colored and decorated in intricate drawings that represent the poetry he’s scribbled in his writing. Caroline notices the ‘C’ imprinted in the front of the notebook, and that’s when she realizes. “Have you moved every poem about me into that notebook, Shakespeare?”

“Maybe.”

Caroline nods silently, sucking in a breath through her nose and snuggling deeper into the sheets on the mattress, smiling softly at the man laying across from her, ready to read his poetry. “Okay.”

Harry dramatically clears his throat, smiling softly at Caroline, his fingertip holding the page where the poetry begins on the day, they met alone for the very first time. “you told me that you never fall in love // that it’s too dangerous, too risky // and i have begun to wonder // that if love is too risky // what is it that makes you feel safe.”

Caroline waits at the coffee shop for nearly three hours without a show from Harry.

Having three coffees and one muffin and about three hours of gearing up to even come to the coffee shop alone, Caroline is fed up and ready to leave. That is until, the floppy tendrils of curls show up rushing through the door at a near four in the afternoon, sputtering apologies as he flops his things on the spare chair at the table and hurries to the counter to buy himself a drink. He looks dishevelled, as though he’s woken up only minutes ago and hurried here, and part of Caroline wants to feel sorry for him that he’s slept until two in the afternoon, most likely, and forgotten.

That part of Caroline is very small, though.

“Caroline, I’m so sorry,” Harry says hurriedly, brushing through his hair and taking a seat at the table and pulling out his notebook and his computer and textbook with the play written inside. “I overslept. I was working on this poetry assignment, all night. Not trying to make an excuse. This was our plan all week. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s just get started. Our discussions are due in less than,” Caroline says distractedly, looking at her phone for the time, “six hours.”

“Right, yeah,” Harry says embarrassedly, his cheeks turning red beneath the softened lights of the coffee shop, his hands slightly shaking as he was rushing to get himself together, his papers scattered in his notebook. “Have you annotated anything, yet? Obviously, there are my annotations that you can copy, if you need them.”

Caroline laughs, shaking her head and letting out a frustrated laugh, “Harry, that’s, um, nice, I think.” Her eyes are squinted as she stares at him, and then she turns to her textbook and opens to the first act of the play. “But, in the three hours I was waiting for you, I finished the entire first act. I’m ready for the discussion. Could do that, we could do that, and then leave, if you’d like. Obviously, you have more important things to be doing.”

Harry looks awfully embarrassed and there is a sudden boost of confidence that Caroline feels around him. Usually, Harry is the one with the chip on his shoulder, with the one-up on the partners that he’s working with, especially women. Harry has his looks, his charm, and occasionally – if he’s using it well enough – his intelligence. Harry’s poetry usually wins over the women and men he works with, the inspiration that strikes when he’s working with someone that is smarter, brighter, more intelligent than he is, bringing him closer and closer to finishing his poetry collection that he’s been working since his acceptance into the graduate program. Coming into his fourth section of poetry, Harry’s found himself writing about love and love stories and romance since the day he started his portfolio, and yet he’s missing an entire section about unrequited love.

That is more frustrating than anything, Harry’s found.

“Um, sure,” Harry sighs, letting out a heavy breath and raising his hand to the waiter that’s walking near their table, ordering a black coffee and a muffin before settling into his seat, once more, and opening to the page that the discussion post is referring to. “Okay, well, this discussion post is asking about the difference between infatuation and love between Orsino and Viola and Olivia, in Act One.” Harry looks between Caroline and their notebooks and their textbooks and says, “There isn’t one, really.”

“Did you just say there isn’t a difference?” Caroline asks astonishedly, shaking her head and setting her pen in her notebook and shutting her computer halfway. “Orsino is practically tripping over himself for Olivia, and Olivia is falling for Cesario, or Viola playing pretend to get into the palace and find her brother. All of it is infatuation. Orsino’s entire claim for love is based on his infatuation with Olivia.”

“Tell me something,” he says smoothly, nodding his head to the waitress bringing his coffee and his muffin and thanking her quietly before turning to Caroline and squinting his eyes. “Do you not believe that love is partially based on infatuation? Isn’t that how you fall in love? By becoming infatuated with someone, with something. Do you not believe in love at all?”

Caroline sits back in her seat, very well aware of the judgement being passed to her in this very moment, and is slightly insulted by his insinuation, his implication. “Look, Harry, whatever personal judgements I have on love and falling in love are truthfully none of your business. At the end of the day, love is risky and dangerous. Anyone that willingly falls in love is a fool.”

“That’s bloody depressing,” Harry says with a scowl, shaking his head and brushing his fingers through his hair, pushing the floppy tendrils away from his forehead and revealing his bright green eyes that suddenly feel intimidating to the look. “I love love, I think. I think there’s something so fun about wanting to be partners with somebody, wanting to be by their side through thick and thin. That’s what makes life exciting. Doing it with another person.”

“Happy for you,” Caroline notes sarcastically, shrugging her shoulders and beginning to write out her discussion post on her computer, completely ignoring Harry’s pointed stare and the judgement passing through his emerald eyes. “Love isn’t safe. This story proves that. Could you imagine falling in love with someone, only to realize they’re not really that person? That would be devastating.”

Harry uncaps his highlighter and pen and begins annotating the remaining sections of the play’s act, ignoring Caroline’s harsh judgements and words. “Guess that’s how you feel but it’s wrong,” he says under his breath, writing carefully his thoughts about the obsession between Olivia and Orsino and Cesario. “At the end of the day, everyone wants to find love in their life. Obviously, you want your love to be requited, but if it’s not, at least you experienced love in some capacity, yeah?”

Caroline doesn’t pick up her head from her computer screen, not bothering to even engage in the conversation with him. Caroline’s barely known Harry for a week, barely spoken to him for more than an hour, and she already heavily dislikes him. “Not particularly.”

“Look Caroline –” Harry goes to say, his eyes growing wide when Caroline cuts him off nearly immediately, shocking him out of his words for a minute.

“Callie, for the umpteenth time. Liv already told you that, I’m sure.”

Harry looks at Caroline with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, tilting his head slightly and gathering his thoughts before speaking, again. “Callie, I’m not sure what your problem with me is, considering we just met, but–”

Caroline cracks her fingers, sucks in a breath through her teeth and says all in one outburst, “My problem with you, is that you’re not taking this seriously, unlike me, and you’re pretentious and think you’re the best at everything. That is not how you make a first impression and to put it simply, you’ve made the worst one upon me.”

Harry’s mouth clamps shut, his jaw tensing and un-tensing as he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to remain composed and not act as though this conversation is absurdly hurting his ego. Harry’s ego is something that he built up so much over time, that it seemed impossible for anyone to tear it down, and yet here she comes, all in one break, destroying his egotistical demeanor. He is good at whatever he works on, the annotations, the poetry, the writing. His confidence is based on the boosts from professors and family and friends always building up his abilities and saying how capable he is to be someone, to be a writer.

And Harry is pissed, pissed that someone that is a bit too insecure themselves, that uses their mental health as a way to treat other people poorly, that wants to say he doesn’t take his education seriously, is trying to make him insecure about himself, too.

“If that’s how you feel,” Harry says, very much insulted by her statement and trying to formulate a response that is worthy to make it known how he feels about everything, “then I’m willing to speak to Rigsby about switching partners. Although, I think it’s unfair that you’ve passed a judgement about me so quickly when I’ve barely made a judgement about you.”

“Okay, Harry. Truthfully, Liv already told me what you said about me that first day I met you. You made judgements about me before we’d even sat down together, alone. That only supports my judgement about you, doesn’t it? That you’re an egotistical, pretentious person that quickly judges others that aren’t like you.”

“Caroline, the only thing that I’ve judged you on is the fact that you use your mental health or whatever the hell it is that you use to gain sympathy from other people. Especially your friends.”

Quickly standing up, she gathers her things and shoves her computer into her backpack, laying her hands on the table and gritting her teeth so hard it looks like her jaw might actually break. Caroline stares Harry down, making him slightly uncomfortable with how hard she’s looking at him. “Harry Styles, you don’t know anything about me or my mental health or my friends. Quite honestly, it’s people like you, that make people like me, not talk about my mental health with others. Maybe you should thank whatever the fuck you believe in that you don’t have to handle mental health issues. And I hope to God that you never fall in love with someone that wakes up with a brain like mine every, single, fucking day because you’ll ruin their life with how lowly you think of them.” Caroline gathers her belongings and hurries out the door, the wind brushing against her cheeks and whipping against her heated skin. Her fists are clenched together in tight coils of anger, one hand releasing from the tight ball and reaching into her bag for her car keys, quickly unlocking her tiny, navy blue sedan and throwing her backpack into the passenger seat and immediately walking around to climb into the driver’s seat.

Harry is speechless, absolutely and utterly speechless, and unable to stand up and say something properly to defend himself before she’s rushing out the door. “Caroline, wait!” Harry pushes his chair out from beneath him, stumbling around the fallen wood and drawing plenty of eyes to his distraught figure as he hurriedly rushes out of the building and into the parking lot where Caroline is spilling expletives with all of her belongings scattered on the ground. “Caroline, wait for a second!” Caroline doesn’t wait, continuing to try and gather all of her things and shove them into her bag but the material is wrapped together and making it difficult and there are tears welling in her eyes as she drops everything frustratedly and sits back on the tarmac in absolute frustration. “Caroline.”

“Harry, what do you want from me?” Caroline takes a deep breath, gathering all of her things, throwing her bag in the passenger seat of her truck and climbing inside, trying to ignore the silence that overwhelms the two of them as they stand there staring at each other. Caroline can feel a tear fall down her cheek in betrayal, the last thing she wanted was to cry in front of him.

“I,” Harry is quiet, unable to fully make a sentence and spit out a coherent thought. “I’m sorry for what I said. I, I didn’t mean it. That was wrong of me to say. Rigsby wanted us to work together because we’re the best students in that class and likely have a few things in common when it comes to working with literature. I need to graduate in May, too. Can you please give me a second chance? I swear I won’t make you regret it.”

Caroline looks at Harry and looks at her white knuckles clutching the steering wheel, the little crescents starting to form in the cushion of the wheel. Guess it’s better that it’s the wheel rather than my thighs, she thinks. There is so much harm that could come from being Harry Styles’ partner, Caroline’s decided. Harry Styles doesn’t understand her mental health, firstly, and he likely never will, based on his reactions and interaction in the first conversations and dialogues they’ve shared. Harry Styles is pretentious and rude, secondly. Harry Styles, thirdly, thinks he’s the very best thing to walk the planet and knowing Caroline’s father, that would be the furthest thing from the truth.

“Honestly, Harry, I can’t,” Caroline says truthfully, shaking her head and grabbing the gear to shift into reverse and back out of the parking lot, Harry quickly moving his feet to avoid being run over with the impatience she’s exhibiting. “I’ll be talking to Rigsby on Monday about a new partner.”

* *

Caroline is angry. Angry is the only way to describe the way she feels, right now. Angry, specifically, with a man by the name of Harry Styles.

Donald Rigsby refused to change their annotation partner, insisting that Harry Styles would make the best pairing for the intensity of the course load that they would be doing throughout the semester. Donald Rigsby said, and Caroline could quote, “Harry Styles is a charming young man that is an excellent writer and I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding.” Caroline wanted to roll her eyes, to tell him that he’s an asshole that doesn’t understand empathy of any sort. Caroline wanted to say so many things, and instead, she nodded her head silently, forced that famous smile that everyone knows and loves, and walked out of his office with a slight stomp to her feet.

Caroline immediately grabbed her phone and wrote a very calculated worded email to Harry Styles, saying:

Harry,

Unfortunately, and though I tried to talk him out of it, Rigsby has insisted on us being partners, for some reason unbeknownst to me. He has expressed his opinion thoroughly about the topic and would like to not hear further about it. He believes that we will make a great team working on annotating Shakespeare’s texts, based on our work ethic and our talent as writers. Although this is not what I would have wished for, I am hoping for the best, as we both have to graduate at the end of the year, and very much need this course to pass our degrees. I am sending this email as an offering of peace for the time being until we can meet again.

I am free again on Saturday for another annotation meeting for the second act of the play. Is that time going to work for you? Let me know as soon as possible. Thank you.

Callie Ryan

Caroline waits two days for a response from Harry. Two. Whole. Days. Caroline waits for two days, and the only response that she gets is infuriating, absolutely maddening, totally and completely frustrating.

All Harry says is this:

Caroline,

Apology accepted. See you on Saturday.

Harry x

Apology accepted? Apology accepted? Is Harry so dense in that thick skull of his that he thinks that Caroline was apologizing for what she said to him? Absolutely fucking not. Caroline would never apologize for what she said. Caroline wouldn’t apologize for saying that she hopes Harry never falls in love with someone like her, especially. Caroline meant all of it, every single word, from the beginning to the end. Adding onto the fact that she meant all of it, it is her best commentary to this day.

Caroline walks out of her shift at the local bookstore with steam whistling from her ears, her eyes reading over the email again and again, silently wishing that she’ll look at the screen of her phone once more, on the off chance that she clicked the wrong email and it’s not actually what was sent to her. Harry couldn’t be that ridiculous, right?

There isn’t any way that anyone can be that pretentious and uptight. There simply can’t be. Caroline refuses to believe it.

* *

Caroline waits at the coffee shop for nearly six hours, on the day of their meeting, waiting for Harry. Maybe a bit less than that. Maybe a bit less than that because it took her three hours to gear up to meet him with her anxiety and the episode she’s been suffering through. Caroline struggled to get out of bed, to even make it to her car, barely functioning to brush her teeth and thread her fingers through her hair. Her hair has been tangled in a braid for three days, and it’s beginning to look a bit dishevelled, although she has run water through the baby hairs flying around her forehead.

Caroline’s medicine is all out of whack. Originally, it was working for a while, making sure the episodes were manageable and taken care of throughout each stint of the rollercoaster, the lights on and lights off as she’s called it since the earliest age of twelve. However, now, it’s like the medicine isn’t even doing anything to her system, and she’s hitting the highest highs and the lowest lows for weeks without any remorse. Caroline can handle it usually, but with the stress of her father’s anniversary coming in October, the horrible partner she’s been assigned in her annotations course, and the overall overwhelming sensation of graduation lingering around the corner, there’s a bit too much to be able to handle the highs and lows every two weeks.

Caroline is in a Lights Off week.

Caroline can tolerate a lot. Making that clear to people is something that she prides herself on. Caroline can tolerate most things: running late, cancelling, having to reschedule because of a conflict of some sort. Caroline cannot tolerate skipping a meeting entirely … without any warning.

Harry doesn’t show one hour, two hours, three hours, four hours later.

Caroline checks her email twice, maybe even three times to see whether or not he’s emailed her last minute to say that he couldn’t come. Nothing. Not a word from Harry Styles.

Caroline waits around for another hour waiting for Harry, completing the annotations for Act II of The Twelfth Night and finishing the “Act II Discussion” Rigsby posted online earlier that week. Hatred and anger rush through her veins as she thinks about how this should’ve been done with her “partner”, today, and the way that he’s not even had the courtesy to tell her that he had to cancel their meeting and do the work on his own. Caroline gathers her belongings, taking out her phone and dialling her best friend’s number, ready to rant and rave about this person that she’s being encouraged and more so, forced, into talking to daily, that clearly doesn’t respect her or her boundaries for working environments. That may be what makes Caroline even more angry. Harry doesn’t respect her. If Harry does respect her, he surely doesn’t know how to show it.

Caroline clicks on Liv’s number, tucking the phone in between her shoulder and her ear, and gathering her things to take to her car, waving goodbye to the workers that know her by name and shuffling to her vehicle parked in the very first space outside. Caroline makes everything a habit, from where she frequents to the minuscule habits that only a boyfriend or girlfriend could catch onto, like the way she washes her hands twice before dinner and compulsively types her notes on her computer to avoid rewriting after lectures. Caroline is comfortable with her life, with how she lives it, and she isn’t going to let one person get in the way of the peace that she’s brought to her life over the last year without her father around, a feeling of tranquillity that he would have wanted for her.

“Hey, Callie. How’s it going?” Liv says when she answers the phone, a smile evident in her voice and Caroline can only assume she’s with her significant other by the extra voices in the background. “Did you finish your annotations?”

“Of course. Guess who didn’t fucking show, again?” Caroline grumbles, climbing into her car and waiting for the phone to connect to the speaker for her to leave safely. Caroline shakes her head angrily, the utter disappointment and upset building inside of her chest making her want to scream and cry. Could someone really be this insensitive to someone else? Could Harry really be this ridiculous? Donald Rigsby is wrong about Harry Styles. Very wrong. “Things would be fine, I would be fine, if I wasn’t losing my fucking mind over the workload for this class,” she continues, shaking her head and carding her fingers through her hair frustratedly. “I don’t understand how anyone could be so insensitive towards others. It’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. I can’t stand him, Liv. I don’t care what Rigsby has to say about him. I think Harry Styles is the worst person on the planet.”

“Callie,” Liv says softly, warningly, almost and it makes Caroline go silent. Caroline knows what Liv is about to say and she is simply praying that she wasn’t on speaker phone. “Callie, Harry’s here with Niall.” Caroline goes deathly silent, now. Liv walks out of the room, eyeing Harry apologetically, and making her way into her bedroom to talk to her best friend and hopefully calm her down before she comes home. “Cal, Harry was here because he broke up with his girlfriend and needed to talk to Niall.”

“Harry could’ve messaged me,” Caroline mumbles, closing her eyes momentarily and soaking in the silence that overwhelms her car, the moment of silence where her brain is finally quiet and there is nothing to be heard from anyone. Caroline knows it won’t last long. Caroline’s brain is never nice to her for very long.

“Harry says you didn’t give him your number, only your email.”

“Well, yeah. Why would I give a stranger my phone number, Liv?” Caroline sighs, turning into the car park and grumbling when she sees a vintage car parked in her space. Caroline doesn’t need to know anything about anyone to know that a pretentious asshole would have a car, like that. Most certainly it’s Harry’s. “Motherfucker parked in my space, now, too. God damnit!”

“Callie, are you okay?”

“Fine, Liv,” Caroline breathes out, pinching the bridge of her nose and leaning her head back on the headrest behind her. Momentarily, Caroline makes the decision that she’ll take herself to her boyfriend’s house for the week, not really wanting to be around her best friend and his boyfriend and the subsequent asshole that is making himself known around their apartment. “Think I’m going to go to Max’s for the week, this way you and Niall can have the apartment. Getting my things from my car and then I’ll come and get my things.”

“Don’t have to do that, Callie,” Liv sighs, heaving a heavy breath into the speaker and pursing her lips together, trying to find a way to relieve her best friend’s anxiety and the tension creating itself in their conversation as they continue to speak. Caroline always gets angry so easily when her mood is like this, and Liv knows why, she’s not angry over it, she knows what she’s done to make her best friend so frustrated with her and the situation at hand. “I’ll kick Harry out if he makes you uncomfortable, Cal.”

“Olivia,” she says, shaking her head and turning off her car, opening the driver’s door and stepping out onto the concrete, “it’s fine.”

Caroline walks up the steps to their apartment and opens the door quietly, trying to make as little noise and draw as little attention to herself as possible. Harry is standing in the kitchen, laughing with Niall about something unrelated and turns to look at Caroline, his eyes widening at the way she immediately walks straight past him, nudging his shoulder along the way, and to her bedroom to start gathering her belongings that she’ll need to take with her to her boyfriend’s house.

“Caroline,” Harry says, earning a smack to the arm from Niall and a deathly look from Liv. Harry doesn’t care what they say, her name is Caroline, that’s what he’s going to call her. “Can we talk outside?”

Caroline looks at Harry questioningly, her eyebrows coming together in the center of her forehead as she contemplates telling him off right then and there. Harry has an ego bigger than his head, the privilege that exudes from the way he views mental health making her skin crawl with disgust, and an attitude that extends much further than what Caroline could rightfully handle. Could anything good come from a conversation with Harry? Likely not. Has Caroline impulsively decided that this conversation can be her time to tell Harry to go to hell? Yes.

Harry walks outside first, holding the door open and waiting for Caroline to lay her things on the tile flooring near the front door and follow him outside. Harry’s eyes travel across the expanse of her figure, and he’s well aware that it’s wrong, and that she has a boyfriend, but there is something about her that he can’t get his mind to wrap around, that he has an infatuation with.

Anna Marie and Harry broke up this afternoon. That’s the whole reason that Harry came to Liv and Niall, in the first place, to tell them that she’s gone, and they wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. Niall cheered and Liv smiled knowingly, telling him that Callie and Max were still very much together. Harry assured her that that wasn’t the reason why that he had no intentions of pursuing Caroline, but Liv knows better. Liv knows boys better than that. Harry just shrugged her off and went about his conversation with Niall, talking about the way Anna Marie insisted she was breaking up with him, instead. Harry let her have her way, as long as it meant he wasn’t with her anymore. Could that be considered something that an asshole would do? Likely so. Did Harry care all that much? Not really.

Caroline nods in a halfway ‘thank you’ at Harry as the apartment shuts behind her, knowing fully well that Liv and Niall are waiting on the other side to hear what they have to say to each other. Caroline ignores it, knowing that she’ll get an earful from her best friend whenever they have time alone for being too harsh or mean to her boyfriend’s best friend. Caroline shakes her head at the notion, thinking to herself how ridiculous the whole situation is.

If Harry had just shown up on time, showed a little bit of respect, maybe respected other people’s boundaries, then this wouldn’t be happening. This wouldn’t be a conversation that they have to have. Caroline wouldn’t hate him the way she does.

“Okay,” Harry starts, shrugging his shoulders and leaning against the railing so that his shirt tightens against his chest and the muscles in his arms are on perfect display. If Caroline found him attractive, maybe this would distract her, cause her mouth to go dry and her comebacks to weaken. Good thing it isn’t that way. “Caroline, you think of me as the worst person on the planet?”

“I do, yeah,” Caroline states flatly, leaning against the door and trying to keep her eyes on his. Maintaining eye contact has never been one of Caroline’s strong suits and doing so when she’s obscenely angry is certainly not making it any easier. “Harry, you’re kind of a piece of shit.”

“All this anger because I missed an annotation meeting, and I didn’t tell you?” Harry sounds like he’s mocking her and it’s making Caroline even more angry than she already is. Gabriel Ryan would never tolerate this behavior. “Is that really it, love? Is this something more going on?”

“Don’t ‘love’ me, with your accent, and try and patronize me,” Caroline says through clenched teeth, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest to add to her frustrated nature. “That was just icing on the cake, Harry. I really don’t like you.”

“That’s such a shame, innit? ‘Cause I like you.”

“Harry, you don’t even know me!” Caroline is so frustrated she thinks she might cry, tears beginning to gloss over her honey eyes and make her vision blurry. “God, you’re just some privileged guy in my literature class. That’s all you are! Honestly, nothing I say will get through to you! This whole conversation is pointless and useless and a waste of my fucking time!”

“Have you gotten it all out, now, Caroline?” Harry teases, clutching the door handle that Caroline reaches for, blocking her into the door and hovering over her face, his lips merely inches from her mouth, teasing the way her plump flesh entices him for only a second. “Have only one idea on how or what we’re going to do about it to make it better, Caroline. Kiss?”

“Hah! Over my dead body, Harry Styles. Only in your wildest dreams would I ever kiss you.” Caroline slinks beneath Harry’s arms blockading her in and opens the door, frustratedly grabbing her belongings and making her way out of the apartment. “Bye, Liv. Bye, Niall. I’ll see you later.”

“Caroline,” Harry says calmly, reaching for her wrist and grabbing her gently, taking her hand in his and trying to have her attention for more than a moment. Caroline immediately flings her hand out of his and reaches for the keys to her truck. “Meeting this week, maybe? Can get some work done earlier than the weekend if you’d like. I don’t have anything tying me down, now.”

“Harry Styles, you and I are no longer working together. Get this through your thick head. I’m not working with you. I’m not speaking to you. Rigsby never has to know that we didn’t work together. I’ll lie. I don’t want to see you. That’s it. End of story.”

Home.

Home is where many things happen for Caroline and Harry. Home is where Caroline and Harry sing and dance in their kitchen at three in the morning when Caroline is wide awake and needing to be distracted from the intrusive thoughts that are overwhelming her brain. Home is where Harry started his business ventures. Home is where Caroline started writing her novel. Home is where Caroline and Harry kiss beneath the sheets and touch each other intimately and know their way around each other’s bodies, caressing and touching in the most loving way. Home is where the heart is, they say, and that would be true in Caroline’s case.

Harry is home, wherever they are.

Caroline looks at Harry with tears in her eyes, drawing the covers back and gesturing for him to lay in the tiny makeshift bed with her, ignoring the shaking of his head and smirking at the way he sighs and gives in, pushing himself out of the lounger and walking over to her with his notebook in hand, knowing well enough by now that she’ll want him to continue to read to her until she’s sleeping and unable to listen any longer. Her legs are stretched out over his thighs, her cheek laying on his stomach, smiling at the slight pudge that’s accumulated there since they started cooking more meals at home with the bookstore right beneath them. Caroline’s arms circle around his waist, not caring whether or not her arm will fall asleep in the middle of the night or not, and his hands intertwine themselves in her hair, brushing through the straight locks soothingly. His touch is gentle, nurturing, and Caroline suddenly is reminded of when her father used to do the same thing to her when she would have a nightmare or couldn’t sleep.

Harry is like Gabriel in a lot of ways, Caroline recognizes. Maybe, just maybe, that’s why she’s fallen so head over heels in love with him. Caroline never thought she would find a man as good as her father, previous relationships included, and yet, here she is, with one right by her side. Harry is patient and kind, loyal and generous. Harry understands her mental health and never blames her for an episode, good or bad. Harry works with her, and makes sure that she knows that he’s there, no matter what the reason may be. Caroline searched high and low for someone like him, someone that would accept her for the way she is, and even in previous relationships, she never found someone to do it as unconditionally as Harry has. Caroline will be forever grateful for the way they met, although not particularly ideal, because it meant that they met at all.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now, baby,” Harry says softly, brushing his fingers through her hair and kissing her head. “I can read more if you’d like. Do you want to talk instead? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

Caroline’s fingers trace over the pattern on Harry’s shirt mindlessly, the speckled design on the shirt making her frown, realizing that he never had the opportunity to change when he came home. All because of how Harry found Caroline – unconscious in their bedroom. Lying on the floor by their bedside, with her eyes shut and her lips slightly parted. Harry is in his airport clothes, likely reliving the trauma that she’s given him for the rest of his very life.

“Callie,” he says sweetly, taking her attention away from the shirt by lifting her chin and making her eyes meet his, “you don’t have to worry about me. I’m okay.”

“Harry, I should’ve called and told you. I thought I could handle it on my own, that it wouldn’t bother me because there have been so many other times where she rejected me. This time, though, it broke me.” Harry can feel the tears from Caroline’s face soaking into his shirt and trousers and he doesn’t say a word, only turns his body slightly so he’s facing her, and his thumbs can wipe away the tears recklessly falling down her cheeks. “I don’t understand what I did to make her not want me, Harry. All I ever did was be myself. That was too much for her? Am I too much?”

“Never,” Harry says, shaking his head adamantly and pressing his thumb to where her eyebrows have furrowed together and gently rubbing across her skin, kissing her forehead soothingly and lingering there for good measure. “Lucy has a very British way of thinking, Cal. That’s not a great thing when it comes to mental health and all that. Hell, I had a very British way of thinking, at first. There’s a reason we didn’t get along. There’s a reason my friends wouldn’t share things like that with me.” Harry looks at Caroline sincerely and says, “Until I met you.”

Caroline doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Harry thinks that she’s finally fallen asleep. Until an audible breath echoes through the quiet room and Harry looks to see Caroline beginning to wipe tears from her cheeks, once more. “Do you think that we should postpone the wedding? Until I’m better? I’ll understand if you want to delay the wedding, Harry.”

“Caroline Elizabeth,” Harry breathes, shaking his head frustratedly and sighing as he delicately grabs Caroline’s chin and brings her face to meet his. Harry’s thought about delaying the wedding. Of course, Harry has. Although, it’s certainly not because of what Caroline thinks. Harry’s worried that she’ll have another episode in the meantime and want to cancel the wedding altogether while they’re trying to make final preparations and there will be nothing that he can do to change her mind. “I’m marrying you in three months. That’s final. I don’t want to hear another word about it from you. I’m marrying you, I’ve been wanting to marry you, and I’m ready to marry you. Okay, Cal?”

“Okay.”

Harry sighs and kisses her forehead soothingly, gently scratching at her head and kissing a line from her forehead to her nose to her mouth. “I love you, Caroline.”

“Know you do.”

Harry smiles at that, gently turning his body over and laying on his back, allowing Caroline to make herself comfortable. His hands reach for his journal on the makeshift bedside table, opening to a marked page with a poem that he wrote on the plane the day he left, the day everything went wrong, thinking about how much he would miss her and want to be with her every day until they were in each other’s company. “I’m happy that you know.”

“Have you got any clue how much I love you, Harry?”

Harry turns his head to look at Caroline, her eyes slowly shutting and her lips slightly parted as she sucks in deep breaths and gives way to the sleep that’s been nagging at her eyelids for nearly an hour. Harry’s heart is so warm and swollen with Caroline in his arms that it makes him almost forget to answer her. “Have some idea, yeah. It’s a lot. Love me a lot, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Feel the same way about you, Callie,” Harry says honestly, scratching lightly at her scalp and letting his mouth linger with a kiss on her forehead for a while. “Love of my life, you are.”

Harry always means what he says, Caroline knows this. Caroline knows this, even though her brain is bombarded with intrusive thoughts telling her that he’ll leave her like everyone else, eventually. “Falling in Love” is a hard concept to truly understand, to make one’s brain believe they’re worthy of deserving. Caroline has waited a long time, a very long time, to feel like she is worthy of love. Caroline knows why the relationship never worked out with her ex, with Max – because she didn’t feel worthy to be loved by him. Caroline isn’t sure what happened with Harry that made the switch, which made her feel like maybe this one will show her that she’s worthy of it.

Certainly, it’s because of how Harry loves. Harry is the perfect way to learn to love yourself because the way he loves is so unconditional and pure. Harry loves with his whole chest, with his whole might, with a ferocity that makes you feel like you’re the only person on the planet that means anything to him. Caroline, although obsessed with him, certainly hasn’t always felt this way. Caroline certainly couldn’t stand to be around Harry for a while, which made it nearly impossible to see how she could have fallen in love with him. Of everything, their relationship is everything but a mystery, of a circular moment of hatred to love, of infatuation to lust. Harry is the perfect example of the quote, “But our hatred is almost indistinguishable from our love.”

Caroline looks to Harry and simply stares for a while, not saying anything, soaking in the way his fingers brush through her hair and his perfect lips are pursed together in thought as he mindlessly watches the reruns of a television program on the clunky machine shelved in the corner of the room. Caroline doesn’t necessarily want children, for the sake of genetically passing her brain to another human, but looking at Harry, right now, and the way that he is with her, she thinks that it wouldn’t be so horrible to have another version of him toddling around. Caroline knows she’s in love, then – when everything changes because of him.

Harry says something suddenly, his eyes still trained on the television, his fingertips scratching Caroline’s head softly to gain her attention to reality. “Callie, I think you’re incredibly brave.”

Caroline smiles softly, shaking her head and nudging further into Harry’s embrace, threading her leg through his thighs and cuddling closer to him, whispering, “But it is not bravery; I have no choice. I wake up and live my life. Don't you do the same?”

“All the Light We Cannot See?”

Caroline nods with a smile. Harry knowing the novels she references has always made her feel warm inside. “Can you read me one more?” she wonders, nodding towards the poetry journal in his hands and the marked pages that are bending out of the cover. “Only one.”

“Only if you promise to go to sleep,” he says sternly, opening the pages and turning towards the one that is the most recent, the most freshly how he’s feeling. Harry’s been writing poetry about Caroline for so many years that it seems almost impossible that there are things he has forgotten to say or neglected to say. And yet, nearly every day, there is something new that he wants to find the words to express about the love of his life. “Have all those doctor’s visits in the morning, Callie, and the psychiatrist is coming to check on your medicine before we can leave.”

“Fair enough.”

“Only one,” Harry warns, clearing his throat and opening the page, smiling at Caroline’s eyes are already squeezing shut and ready to let his voice lull her to sleep. “Goodnight, my love.”

“feeling you against my chest // my heart is beating, undeniably a mess // you are everything all at once // and i’d do anything for you to see // that you are all i ever need.”

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @goldenbabys-world, @burberryharold, @stylesfics-xx, @grace-ful-gold, @summertimestyles, @laur-sogolden, @yourhsficsplug, @morethanamelodyy, @truckerhatharry, @plzplzme

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scorsoneamelia · 3 years ago

Note

Can you write something in which link gives an organ to scout?

okay i wanna give a quick shoutout to @amelinkendgame for helping me come up with ideas because i was stuck on this one for a bit!! <3333 thank yall for your patience i hope this one isn’t disappointing!!

sorry if theres an typos lol

Lately, Scout hasn’t been feeling good, saying he was always sleepy or that his “tummy was hurting and he felt sick”. At first, both Amelia and Link assumed it was just the flu or maybe even just an upset stomach. It wasn’t until they noticed slight swelling around their son’s hands and ankles, which raised more and more redflags and being the anxious parents they are, they had brought him to hospital just to be safe.

After many tests, mostly being blood and urine tests they came across the problem, and it wasn’t just a simple flu or an upset stomach. The news made Amelia’s heart drop into her stomach and Link’s hand let go of hers to run to his sons side.

“Kidney failure? What? --- How?” Scout was healthy, he was always healthy, she always made sure he was feeling one hundred percent because she was always so anxious about what would happen to him. “Is there a cause?”

Hayes, the peds doctor was looking through Scout’s chart at all of the tests he had run. “I will run plenty of tests to find out the main cause for this, but in the meantime, you’re going to have to discuss a plan. If you want to do a transplant, we need to find a matching donor.”

Of course Scout would be okay with one kidney, but that would make Amelia anxious all the time, knowing that he only has one working kidney and that, that one as well could fail randomly when nobody was expecting it. Both of hers and Link’s eyes met, while Scout was distracted with one of his toys he brought with himself. “Test us.” Link stated, glancing back over at Hayes. “Maybe one of us is a match.” There was hope in his voice, his eyes, too.

“Okay,” Hayes nodded. “Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be back.”

The second the doctor left, closing the curtain shut to give the family company, Amelia was walking up to Link, wrapping an arm around his waist and giving his tall body a side hug. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Link’s arms were wrapping around Amelia’s, pulling her closer into him as if that was even possible before placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “He’s going to be okay.”

________

Link was a match and Amelia was not.

It was good news that at least one of them were able to help with a kidney transplant and they wouldn’t have had to put their son on the donors list. There were many concerns, too many for the two of them to be able to calm their minds and their nerves. Link’s initial concern was that he wouldn’t be able to give his kidney due to his health history, his cancer and all, but they eventually found out that since it’s been over three years since his last cancer treatment he was perfectly okay to donate his kidney. The other concern running through Amelia’s mind was that she felt like this was her fault, her son already needed an organ transplant by the age of five and she was blaming herself. Blaming herself for not noticing sooner, blaming herself because it could be a birth defect and she found herself thinking of every possible reason that her baby could be sick, finding reasons to blame herself.

Hayes promised he’d figure out the reason why his kidney was failing, saying he’d have to sit down and actually take a look because he didn’t understand it. He told them to take their son home for the night, get a good nights rest and come back in the morning so that they could get started, and hopefully have some answers.

Scout was rubbing his eyes on the car ride home, dozing in and out of a light sleep while occasionally letting out a whine, saying “Mommy, I’m tired and I don’t feel good.” So the second they got home, Amelia was taking Scout to his room to put him down for bed.

She tucked him into bed, giving him a kiss on his forehead and running her hands through his hair softly. “Goodnight, angel, I love you. Daddy also loves you and you need to get a good sleep because we have a very big day tomorrow.”

“Okay, Mommy I love you.” Scout said softly, pulling the blanket up higher to his chin, a smile tugging at his lips. She could see Link in him, so many of the same features and she thought he was beautiful.

“I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.” She whispered before turning off the lamp next to his bed and exiting the room, pulling the door shut behind her. Link was standing in the hall, beside his door, obviously eavesdropping.

“Eavesdropping?” She asked, them both making their way down the hall to their bedroom.

“No, I was just walking by.” She knew he was lying but she dropped it, sitting down on the bed, bringing the blanket up to cover her legs.

Amelia fell silent and Link noticed, sitting down on the bed as well but sitting directly across from her, pulling her closer to him. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay, I’m a match, everything is going to work out.”

“Was this my fault?” She muttered, her eyes glancing down at the bed. “Did something happen in the pregnancy? Is this a birth defect? Am I a bad mom for not noticing that he was getting sick? Was there something I could have done?” Amelia was rambling, something she often did. Link shook his head, grabbing both of her hands in his.

“Scout is very happy, you’ve done nothing wrong. Don’t beat yourself up and blame yourself up without knowing the facts,” his voice was soothing and soft.

“The facts are, Scout is loved deeply by both of us and he’s happy and the other fact is that we have a match, and I’m willing to do it. He will be okay, Amelia.” He brushed a stray piece of brown hair away from her face, her hair was soft and her eyes were deep blue and Link always seemed to find himself getting lost in them.

“Just breathe, one day at a time,” he chimed, a smile washing over his face. “That’s the saying, right?”

She leaned forward so that their lips were connecting, both of them trying to get as close as they possibly could and she was practically falling into his lap, her hands resting on his knees for support before she brought one hand up to his jawline.

Maybe he was right, Scout was going to be okay. They have a donor, there’s nothing else wrong, everything will work out just as it needs to be.

But even though Link calmed her down, and reassured her, that thought, maybe she could’ve noticed sooner will still be sitting in the back of her mind for the rest of the night.

#amelink #ameliashepherd #link and amelia #amelia x link #atticus link #ameliafics #amelia #ameliaandlink #greysanatomyfics #greys anatomy #stories

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sourwormsaresour · 3 years ago

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what are your thoughts on La Squadra's sexualities?

First off, Happy Pride Month! Please have a safe one. Before I start, I just want to let you guys know that I’m a straight cisgender woman so I’m not 100% knowledgeable on sexualities so these are based on my current knowledge of the community. I’m open to all head-canons about La Squadra’s sexualities besides my own :)

Sorbet and Gelato are gay, both using he/him pronouns, and are the most out compared to everyone in the team. Even though La Squadra knew about their relationships, the two themselves aren’t open about it outside of the team and their families. This is especially because relationships can be used against you in the crime world but also because their families rely on them to have a “good reputation” to live comfortably. I head-canon that they are both breadwinners of their families: Gelato has siblings that go to very conservative, academic institutions and rely on scholarships that look into family history for recommendations, and Sorbet’s mother requires medical attention from reputable doctors that also have homophobic biases that can be used against her. They’ve secretly used some of their money to help a street kid or two that they learned was disowned after being outed or assassinated a few people for hurting kids for being part of the LGBTQ+ community or even preying on them. The two men probably both went through phases where they thought they only liked women, tried to be in heterosexual relationships, and their enemies-to-lovers type of relationship had probably stemmed from their inability to properly process their attraction to each other at the time.

Formaggio is bisexual and prefers using he/him pronouns; he has a stronger attraction to women but is unaware that he’s attracted to men as well. A big part of why he’s so unaware or in denial of it came from his conservative upbringing in a working-class family and lack of representation growing up. Formaggio knew that men can be attracted to other men, but other aspects of the LGBTQ+ community is either unknown to him or seen in a negative perception; he’s learning more about the community and how to be a better ally, especially after meeting Sorbet and Gelato, but he’s still struggling to reverse the anti-LGBTQ+ sentiments he grew up believing. As a result of his past, Formaggio assumed that one can only be attracted to one gender and never crossed his mind that people can be attracted to more than one. He often tries to hide his attraction to men via “straight guy who’s unaware he’s gay occasionally spits homophobic jokes and says ‘no homo’ every time he says "I love you" to his friends but he means full homo” approach.

Illuso is pansexual and gender fluid, preferring he/him/they/them pronouns most of the time but also likes using neo-pronouns and occasionally prefers to use she/her pronouns. As a former intern for a fashion designer before he joined La Squadra, he’s relatively more exposed to meeting different people in the LGBTQ+ community through fashion; those who were higher in status and power would be more out about it than those in lower ranking and the community was a huge source for avant-garde, counter-culture influences. Despite getting more inspiration for his designs from his interactions and developing his identity in the LGBTQ+ space, that also led to him witnessing discrimination, abuse, and powerplay caused by the higher-ups; some became victims simply because of rumors that they may be part of the LGBTQ+ community or being forcibly outed, some are forced into relationships in exchange for opportunities and privileges, etc. He remains closeted and part of his arrogance stems from him hiding his sexuality due to the trauma of enduring the abuse and witnessing it as well. La Squadra doesn’t know his sexuality or know that he’s genderfluid, but they’re fine with adapting to his pronouns whenever they change.

Pesci is unaware that they’re gay and are non-binary that prefers they/them pronouns. Although they try to stick to he/him pronouns to avoid being out, they like using they/them more and get secretly happy when someone refers to them as such. I head-canon that they’re actually younger than Giorno when they encountered Team Bucciarati, which would explain why he never killed anyone up until this point (they’re a literal kid that’s slowly getting involved in the team when Sorbet and Gelato were killed, albeit they’re on the buffer side despite their age), and with their sheltered childhood and Prosciutto’s strict mentorship, they never got to sit down and think about their sexual and gender identity. They often try to pretend they’re a macho straight man alongside Formaggio but they end up feeling bad about it after trying to say a bad comment or joke to fit in. Pesci themselves feel like they’re alone in terms of the emotions of not being able to put your sexuality into words. It doesn’t help that they’re rather isolated compared to everyone except Risotto; they only knew La Squadra as their family ever since they joined the team and they never talk to anyone outside of the group.

Prosciutto is bisexual and genderfluid, preferring to identify with he/him pronouns, but he’s also the most closeted and probably has the most internalized homophobia as well. Growing up in the entertainment industry, especially in acting, means adhering to heteronormative standards; controversies of any kind would make or break a career and he constantly heard homophobic statements “disguised” as critiques around him from all levels of the entertainment industry. The fact that he was overworked up until his “career retirement” also didn’t give him the time to sit down and realize both his sexuality and how fucked up the film industry is in terms of its treatment towards the LGBTQ+ community. With his upbringing of being presentable and hiding his sexuality, he tries to present himself in the most Italian metrosexual straight machismo man he could and uses his “gentleman charms” towards women to avoid people from questioning further about his sexuality. But at the end of the day, he knows he’s lying to himself about his sexuality. And unfortunately, his anger at being unable to express that is often misdirected.

Melone is demi-sexual, though he presents himself as asexual and panromantic, and prefers using any pronouns. Like his teammates, he prefers using he/him for his safety. As a former scientist, he learned and got to know about the LGBTQ+ community through a more scientific perspective, but also knew there are hidden homophobic biases in the science community as well. Still, he does his best to be an ally for his peers before realizing he is demisexual and panromantic. His sexuality allows him to view the incubation and child-rearing aspect of his Stand without emotions or feelings involved and further explains how he views fornication and training his Juniors in a very scientific and analytical way without guilt taking over. Despite presenting himself as ace/straight (mostly for safety and because it’s easier to explain that he has no attraction to people than being a demisexual), I also see someone who yearns to have a strong emotional connection to someone and would give his all to the person he loves most. His overtly sexual nature is more of an act (I've heard that some aces tend to act overtly sexual, either to avoid being outed or as a result of growing up thinking that need to feel an attraction is necessary) and Melone secretly desires being attracted to someone he learns to trust, admire, and love over time. I have a backstory that plays into that but I might disclose it another time. ;)

Ghiaccio is on the same boat with Prosciutto in terms of having internalized homophobia due to his childhood career as a child athlete. At the time he was training to be an Olympic hopeful as a solo figure skater, Ghiaccio was born female and had to remain in the closet due to the conservative nature of the ice skating world and his step-father being notorious for his opinions favoring homophobia and sexism. Once he joined La Squadra, Ghiaccio began experimenting with himself and ultimately came out as transgender, presenting himself with he/him pronouns, and had been using testosterone ever since. Most members that joined after him only knew Ghiaccio as male while the other members are either indifferent about his gender or are involved in helping Ghiaccio transition to be male. Transitioning also helped him realized he was aromantic and gay, which provided him closure from the years of struggle he had trying to fit into the heteronormative expectations he thought he had to conform to when he was female. The effect of testosterone also explains his brash and short-tempered nature, although that stems more from him finally being able to express himself after years of repressing his emotions as a child.

Risotto is also aromantic and asexual, preferring he/him/they/them pronouns, although he doesn’t know that he is aro/ace, to begin with. Growing up, he never really cared when he heard his older relatives or adults making comments about how “he’d make a good husband” or “have the girls chase him”, because all he cared about was his family and friends. He just assumes that once he becomes a “big boy”, then he’ll have thoughts of wanting to get married like the fairytales say. Just let his future spouse have children with him in any way and he'll play the role of husband regardless. Since his cousin’s death, he gave up the idea of having any sexual or romantic interest in anyone. Why to go out of your way to find any relationship when they’ll be dead soon enough- that was Risotto’s logic. He’s not aware that he can define himself as aro/ace, he just assumes that the trauma he went through with his cousin’s death stops him from feeling any attraction and doesn’t make an effort to figure out why.

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thevividgreenmoss · 3 years ago

Text

My grandfather was awake and lucid for a longish while between late Friday night and Saturday morning apparently first time since this past Sunday when we all thought that was It and crammed ourselves seven people in one sedan that got a flat on the way over of course (as we were leaving the handle of the screen door came off in my hand as I was closing it behind me so the vibe was very on the nose things farcically falling apart that whole goddamn day lol) but then when we made it he was smiling and laughing and talking to and teasing everyone that was there, albeit with much more effort than it would have taken him even just a week earlier when he was already in a really frail state because of his hip surgery. My sister happened to be up later than she usually ever is and got to video call and chat with him for a bit I wanted terribly for my cousin in Colorado to be able to also but by the time he could get through my grandpa's blood pressure had suddenly spiked or something and he'd drifted back into that borderline unconscious state so they didn't get a chance to talk which makes me want to claw my fucking skin off of my face but who knows maybe another opportunity will present itself hopefully it does like he suddenly became really talkative and energized the other day after not having said more than maybe a couple sentences over the few previous days like I was there with him for several hours on Thursday and the entire time he didn't say a word and only opened his eyes once for like half a second and even that I might have been imagining after sitting there sleep-deprived and holding his hand trying not to cry because then my mom would start crying and then my aunt and on and on and if he's conscious at that point he'll start to get worried and his heart rate will destabilize but after that for this one stretch without anyone expecting it he was really talkative and alert and joking around with the nurses and doctors and all that for a while but then later yesterday afternoon he started to get disoriented and drift in and out of the present in between dreaming and waking again at one point apparently he kept saying 'look at my shoes' to my mom and her sisters and they thought it was just just the medication/pain-induced delirium talking but he kept insisting and eventually said 'you're not taking me seriously' and I guess gave up? Or said it a few more times I'm not clear on the course of events I only heard all this secondhand when my younger aunt, who also got diagnosed with cancer late last year but thankfully is more or less in the clear now, got back home last night and she and I went into his room and took all the shoes out of the cabinet he keeps them in and like looked inside and turned over and examined the soles of every pair, took the cushion insert things out of the ones that had them, checked for scooby doo-esque hidden doors, all that but there was nothing there just shoes. Her kids flew back out yesterday morning, the older one's tentatively returning to Toronto in the next week or so she had a painfully rough time in some ways her first couple of years and then abruptly had to be uprooted and leave because of covid then everything with her mom and in time honored eldest daughter tradition bearing the brunt of the familial frustration and insanity associated with that and now everything with our grandpa I really really want her senior year to go smoothly and be enjoyable and memorable in a manner opposite to how this past year+ has been I'm so worried about her and her little sister's starting freshman year there in the fall and I'm terribly worried about her in a whole different way like she's still really attached to her parents in this innocent way that still strongly resembles like a baby's adoring my mom hung the moon type attachment and it can be especially hard being away for the first time ever when that's the case...like she's hyper hypersensitive even by my family's standards lmao but she does have this sort of self-possession and inner groundedness that no one can quite pin down but it's

definitely there and maybe that

could carry her through I really hope so...they were saying to come up to visit them in the fall hopefully I can find a job soon after returning to Texas and like be able to afford to do that and also like keep paying the bills and shit lol in either case I hope so so badly that they'll be okay like I think they will be the women in my family are all really strong but they've also had to be because of various fucked circumstances and I don't want that to keep having to be the case...my grandpa's a Strong Woman in a certain way also honestly lmao like my mom's aunts have always been like your father raised you in a way beyond even most mothers which like who fucking receives let alone genuinely deserves that kind of praise from their in-laws lmao let alone a man from a notoriously patriarchal culture of a generation when fathers from any culture barely had any involvement in their children's upbringing at all which I mean most still don't but even more so back then and like literally everyone we've been hearing from or seeing drop by at the hospital has a story of how at one point or another my grandpa was there for them when no one else was like distant cousins variously removed and loose family friends all with something about how he comforted me when no one else could, I remember word for word what he said to me when I suffered some loss of my own, he's the strongest man in our family, the best times we ever had were when he was near us, when he'd take us out, his youngest brother's children saying he cared for and spoiled them as if their were his own after their dad died suddenly when they were just kids, my mom's third cousin whose own father was with her till a late age saying that he was even more of a father to me than my own father, his other brother's son who was ostracized for decades by his immediate family on some straight up racist ass bullshit on the part of his mom and older brother because he married a black woman but my grandpa stayed in touch and made sure my mom and uncle did as well and made sure we all got together when he'd came to the states, like even now lying there on what very well might be his literal deathbed when he can barely talk he was telling my uncle he's worried about him and he needs to go home and rest, asking who's taking care of the house, are the kids all okay even at this point his thoughts are for others. After I put his shoes back in the cabinet I closed it and opened the one beside just in case I guess just in case what I don't know but it was just like standard cabinet stuff clothes a shaving kit and a couple of what I assume are photo albums that I didn't feel like I should open for some reason and a few old books, a collection of Ghalib's which I can't really read very easily if at all because it's in Urdu lol, a history of government college of Lahore where his father was teaching at the time of his death and the two philosophy textbooks my great grandfather had written himself, Inductive & Deductive Reasoning, and inside the latter I found a handful of yellowed pages torn out of an old notebook upon which mostly seem to be translations of french poems and I think maybe a song or two? I guess old coursework or just for funsies I'm not sure whether written by my grandfather or his own father. My khala was mentioning just the other day that she'd kept one of my grandpa's old notebooks marked as having been designated for biology but inside it were no actual notes just urdu poetry which she wasn't sure whether it was his own original tossed off work or something the lifelong frustrated creative transcribed while bored in class. The night I got here I was looking through his bookshelves after everyone had gone to bed and then a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the living room by myself watching archer when my cousin came and sat down next to me upset and unable to sleep on her own first night here and I held her and tried not to cry and then went through the same bookshelves again, this time with my cousin who we came to Pakistan for the first time after moving to the US

to see being born who turned three

the day we arrived on what until this current trip was the last time I was here her little sister having just been born earlier that same year (whose life I may or may not have saved when I caught her after she was dropped by the person holding her (the fact that (parentheticals within parentheticals!) I may or may not have been the one who dropped her in the first place is immaterial imo not that I'm the one on trial here but what's important is that I caught her and if anything this would be an even more athletically impressive and frankly heroic incident if I'd been the one that was holding her to begin with since I was 8/9 years old at the time and there wasn't much of a distance for her to fall and yet I kept her from hitting the ground like talk about reflexes like that's what's important and what's more important than even that @ my year older cousin (whose younger sister was the first baby in the family after myself whose arrival in this world when I was three had me positively giddy in the way that young children get when witnessing the miracle of even younger children, who's the only other one of the cousins that's been here during all this, just me and the three I got to see as darling little babies) who was the only other person in the room with me at the time, is that we take this to our fucking graves no one can hear a word of this least of all any adults in the house who like not that they're the ones on trial here either but like who allowed for this scenario to transpire in the first place where two children and an infant are in a room by themselves unsupervised in retrospect that's somewhat irresponsible not that I'd ever hold it against them or even mention it because then they might get mad and not let me hold my little cousin anymore and I do love holding my little baby cousin and carrying her around everywhere, mostly without incident)) neither of whom I'd see in person again until we visited them in Canada the summer after I graduated college the trip during which I finished the last of the Neapolitan novels the day after landing and turned 22 the day after their mother, my younger khala, turned 43, looking through my nana's bookshelves with my baby cousin no longer a baby but a U of T classics major entering her senior year, noting the overlaps with our own, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, George Eliot, the same exact copies of Cheever and Kafka's collected shorts, Umberto Eco, Proust, wondering what the various titles meant to him or what they might say about him, wondering how much of even the version of him that can be hypothesized based off his library I'm missing now that I'm limited to the much reduced version of what had been in his old home in Lahore (when he visited us after my junior year of hs and my mom was trying to convince him to downsize and move in with my other aunt with whom he's been living the past several years, the one who most resembles my grandfather the only one that has his cheekbones my khala whose eyes have sunken all the way into her skull before my eyes with exhaustion and grief over the past two weeks, when my mom was like what's the point of just hanging onto a bunch of books that you've already read: I look at them [dramatic pause], and I feel happy [my mom sighing equally dramatically in.exasperation, me cracking up in the background]) the city I was born in the house where I spent the first almost five years of my life before we moved to the US to join my dad who'd moved back shortly after my mom became pregnant with what turned out to be me, abu nana's house with the garden we'd walk through every morning holding his hand and following along as he puttered around with his plants in the garden in the house in the city he had to leave to move into my khala's house in Islamabad where I've been the past almost a month now where two weeks ago he suddenly came down with pneumonia and had to be dragged to a hospital in Rawalpindi where he's been since, not in his house, my nana's house, with the garden in the city I haven't seen since the last time I was in this country the

summer I

turned nine the day after my khala turned 30 the day before my other khala turned 32(?) the summer I first remember obsessive compulsive disorder becoming an overwhelming aspect of my consciousness although it was there before, the first summer of the Iraq war and being terrified watching the Iraq war unfold on the BBC evening news my nana would turn on

at dinner time and hearing for the first time or maybe just the first time I remember the night we left the phrase 'the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer' from my younger khala talking to her sisters and some family friends that had come over to see us off feeling terrified and cold then embarrassed because she noticed my face visibly fall from across the room and told my mom and I was like godammit everyone knows I'm scared now smhead then crying the entire flight back home because I missed everyone and maybe had a little kid premonition that I wouldn't return to my nana's house and I would be years and years till I saw any of them again some I still haven't or maybe there was nothing premonitory about it but in either case that's the way it turned out. I do feel grateful I got to see him again at all, when he last came to the US late 2016-early 2017 I was sure it would be the last time we would be in the same room. I'd make breakfast for us every morning and we'd eat together and the entire day I'd sit next to him inhaling secondhand smoke and talking and reading. I was in the midst of my initial aborted attempt to read Swann's way when he arrived. I'd gotten to Guermantes way last summer but I couldn't find a secondhand copy so I had to read it via ebook and that didn't feel right so I abandoned it until now I've been reading a copy pulled from his bookshelf. Last he visited was the first time I learned we were both Garcia Marquez-heads which I'd kind of assumed before and I showed him Mad Men which he heavily fucked with and also every John Le Carre adaptation I could track down online. From the first time I read one hundred years of solitude the summer after freshman year of college the passage describing Colonel Aureliano Buendia's death already absolutely and unbearably heartwrenching enough immediately brought thoughts of my grandfather, aching aching sorrow over the solitude that he himself existed within in all the fucking pain his life has been inordinately filled with grief over the knowledge of this inevitable final separation from him after so many years and so much distance already having separated him from the people he loved and cared for and he loved and cared for so many people so deeply with such sincerity and beauty and endless endless warmth and compassion and humor when Gabo wrote of the colonel trying to reach back through to his memories and being unable to after previously recalling that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice even years later, as he faced the firing squad, at the moment of his death like a 'baby chick' my poor frail beautiful grandfather appearing exactly the same way when he'd take off his dentures and curl over to the side to sleep, then when awake but still half asleep hearing your voice having brought his apple cider vinegar and garlic concoction or a cup of tea or just coming by to hold his hand or play with his beard the way all of his grandchildren have at one point or another and smiling with his eyes still closed smiling bright and wide the expression of a precious little cat purring as you scratch under its chin always the most beautiful smile and even as his hair turned white and his body withered and wrinkled and shrunk his cheekbones while still not bad long ago ceased being the way they were in that picture from his wedding day back when he he looked like young Robert De Niro's much much prettier Kashmiri cousin from then until now always that same radiance and those same quick-witted and kind and bright bright bright sparkling eyes. The past month and a half I've been feeling like I'm seeing my own mother dying before my eyes along with her father, my adorable beloved abu nana, I can't even begin to comprehend how she must be feeling right now I feel like I'm witnessing her death in advance through all of this and losing the part of her that is him even though I know that's not actually the case. Things have been so fucking painful and complicated between us but the one thing we've shared that's never

been painful is our love for him. When he left after his last visit four years ago I spent the next two days barely able to even talk. Compliments or like any positive comments directed in my directions have almost always caused me this reflexive discomfort and uneasiness but whenever he or anyone else would say that I'm his favorite grandchild I'd want to hold on to that as closely as i possibly can. I don't want him to leave us and more than that I want for whatever happens to at least happen with him back at home but neither of those things seem likely right now although who the fuck knows. I hope his last thoughts can be of flowers, like Kafka's, and Lispector's, or of love, wherever he is I hope it's not asking too much to hope for that at least. For someone that spent his life so deeply immersed within that Garciamarquesian solitude he never made those around him feel any way other than at home, safe and warm and loved and adored and adorable and lovable and at home not because of a place not even the garden at the house in Lahore but with him always always I've never felt more at home than during the times I spent near him, and his love and his flowers

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asterekmess · 4 years ago

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honestly, my fury at the lack of werewolf culture/history/worldbuilding is worthy of its own post. Let me know if by some ungodly chance, you actually wanna hear my thoughts on it // Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

ohmygod yes, pls, enable me.

SO.

I think I mentioned b4 that Teen Wolf hates werewolves.

This is a show about werewolves like, yeah, sure, they do other plots and stuff. But the main character is a werewolf. The vast majority of the cast are werewolves (at least in the first half of the show). But think about it. What do we actually know about werewolves? They uhh, they shift on the full moon. But like, what about the full moon? Cus’ Scott gets handcuffed to a radiator and he doesn’t shift and break out until the moon comes out from behind the clouds and he screams like it’s excruciatingly painful for him. But then Derek and his Betas are underground during their full moon, and they shift like it’s all fine and dandy (they’re furious, but there’s no pain) and it doesn’t matter whether they can see the moon or not. They, uhh, they’re allergic to wolfsbane/it’s poisonous to them (btw it’s poisonous to literally everyone, just the scent of it is enough to cause seizures and hallucinations in humans. It’s a whole other frustration that they won’t make up their fucking minds abt it. It’s one thing to say that this is some parallel universe where wolfsbane doesn’t poison humans (bc lydia makes them hallucinate with the punch but injesting that much wolfsbane should kill you, and Stiles straight pulls a plant out of the ground; should’ve caused itching, burning, a cough, nausea, fever, headache and More hallucinations) and yet Jackson has to see a doctor and gets told he’s got Aconite Poisoning. So WHAT IS THE TRUTH?) but apparently not enough for Derek not to be able to plant a wolfsbane plant and massive cord of roots (which he would’ve had to tie together himself) in a revenge spiral around Laura’s body. But just being around it causes wolves to lose control. But also there’s supposed to be different strains that do different things? And also sometimes you burn the wolfsbane and it becomes the cure, or you have to burn it out of them or you just cut it out of them? Make UP Your MIND or at least ACKNOWLEDGE that different strains do different things. They get stronger on a full moon. But does that mean they get infinitely stronger with every full moon they experience? Does that mean they get weaker during new moons? They’re stronger in packs. Okay, but they never establish what the fuck a pack is. Is it an agreement? Is it a magical bond? Scott just sort of says people are in his pack. Does that mean they are? Do the humans he knows make him stronger? Just how strong is this bond? Derek makes a claim that “You have your own pack now” so is that a joke, was he mocking scott? Or is he saying that there’s no need for an Alpha and just being a beta with some friends counts as a pack? Apparently they have some kind of...animal magnetism or mind control? Derek uses a funny voice and a guy wakes up from a near coma to look at him with seemingly no control. Peter can force Scott to shift up. Derek forces Isaac to shift down. Derek has an insane amount of control over dogs and makes one lose its fucking mind from like a hundred feet away? Scott makes one calm down, but derek sends attack dogs running with their tails between their legs. Is it actual control or is it just a persuasion? Is it just intimidation? I haven’t even gotten to culture. You’re telling me that we get an entire episode of Allison discovering the entire story behind the Argent clan’s origins as werewolf hunters, why they started, how her name means Silver and apparently that’s where the entire myth of silver hurting werewolves comes from, but we don’t get to know anything about the first werewolves? Where they come from? If they’re a form of evolution or just straight magic or if it’s a curse or a gift from the gods? There’s an entire hidden werewolf population with packs all over the world, but somehow there’s literally no wolf culture? No moon worship? No specific terminology (Alpha, Beta, and Omega are terms used by a really fucking stupid biologist who studied frantic wolves in captivity and cast aspersions on the entire species. He’s been disproven a Thousand Times. NONE of that Alpha, Beta, Omega shit is right. Packs aren’t Hierarchies of Dominance. They’re families. They’re led by two wolves, yes, an “alpha pair” that’s literally JUST THE PARENTS. THE ‘BETAS’ ARE THEIR KIDS. This terminology makes sense if used by HUNTERS who consider werewolves to be mindless dumb animals. WHY THE FUCK would werewolves use it to DESCRIBE THEMSELVES?) besides the absolute minimum of ‘I caught a scent?’ Are you serious? Then there’s werewolf ages. Oh my god that was so fucking lazy. Saying that werewolves don’t age like humans, but that Cora is seventeen “by human standards” WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? I’ve seen theories that go so many different ways. The idea that Werewolves live really long lives because of the superhealing. The idea that they live really short lives because their healing just burns through their body really quickly. The idea that their lifespan is directly correlated to the amount of damage they take because they can only heal so much, so wolves who get hurt a lot age faster than wolves who don’t. There’s NO explanation! You’d think it might be an interesting point for Scott to find out that he’s gonna live to fucking 200 years old. (How old is Satomi again?) That sounds like something a Teenager would be daunted by. We see them make fun of Stiles a few times because he believes werewolf myths about silver, and then because he believes Peter when Peter tells him he lives in a series of underground caves. But like...why not? THESE ARE WEREWOLVES why did you just make them humans with extra facial hair? Where are the traditional mating rituals (or even the concept of a mate/life partner, can you imagine how interesting that would’ve been? If Scott found out Allison was his mate? Or if he suddenly had all these weird urges around her, like rubbing their foreheads together or cuddling her way too much or wanting to bring her food? That would’ve been fascinating and hilarious as subplots for their romance!) where are the full moon runs or pack get-togethers? Where are the aversions to perfumes or cologne? Where are literally any animal behaviors besides AGGRESSION? Where is the den-making? Can werewolves eat fast food or does the grease bug them? Talia was a famous Alpha bc she could full shift. Does anyone know why she could do that? “Evolution” is a bullshit answer, let’s be real. It’s shitty writing and it put Derek through so much more than he deserved. THEY ACCIDENTALLY ESTABLISHED that ALL HALES can full-shift! IT’s NOT EVOLUTION. It’s BIRTHRIGHT. Talia fullshifted. Peter full-shifted (though his was distorted into the monster thingy. That wasn’t anything like Deucalion’s shift. It was a FULL SHIFT) Laura could full shift bc she did it after she died. No other werewolves on the show turned into full wolves after death, even if they died with wolfsbane in their system? MALIA could full-shift into a coyote. LITERALLY EVERY HALE except Cora and that’s bc she got booted back to South America COuld FULL SHIFT (and it never happened after they lost all of their wolf powers, that coud’ve been an interesting plot if they didn’t FUCK IT UP.) But still there’s no explanation, or even just acknowledgement? You don’t have to spell it out for us, but at least SAY “Hey, so the Hale family is really powerful and all of us can full-shift. Not sure why, but it’s neat.) I’m still stuck on rituals. Routines. Werewolf mores. Social cues. Are there certain smells they’re supposed to ignore? Is it polite to pretend you don’t hear someone coming up to your house until they knock? Do they have rules about waiting until the Alpha eats before they start eating (much like how lots of traditional households wait for the father to dig in, or whoever is head of household)? Is it tradition to homeschool werewolves for the first few years until they learn control? Are there seriously no rules about biting humans? You don’t have to talk to their parents or have a specific conversation with them? And if werewolves are so dominance/hierarchy based, then you’re telling me there’s no “second-in-command” or respectful greetings that are supposed to be used for an Alpha? There’s absolutely no form of werewolf government or ancient laws or anything except a big spiral that is universally recognized as a sign you’re gonna kill people? What was the wolfsbane around Laura’s body for? Why make the spiral out of that instead of just drawing in the dirt or something? We make a lot of jokes about Derek being bad with his words, but so is Peter and so is Cora. And they’re the only born wolves we interact with (except Satomi who ALSO isn’t a chatterbox) What if that’s not just because they’re all traumatized and cranky? What if they’re just speaking on a different level? Scents and body language are integral to wolf interaction. Like how we say that Peter has that conversation with Derek’s eyebrows? What if Derek’s so fucking pissed all the time because he hates talking to Scott because SCott ISN”T LISTENING to his body language and scent and chemosignals? He tells Scott to use all his senses, and Scott does it fucking once to say that Peter felt “Angry” and never again. What if Derek is Talking PLENTY (with his body and movements and reactions) but Scott just isn’t paying attention? Isaac seems to understand Derek just fine. Erica and Boyd never complain that Derek is lying to them or ‘keeping something’ from them? What if the reason Scott always thinks Derek’s hiding something is because he isn’t reading the rest of Derek’s conversation and he assumes that the empty feeling is Derek lying. Even STILES seems to understand Derek. He’s human, but he goes totally wolfy. He already uses body language a lot and while he gets mad at Derek he never has to ask what the fuck derek is saying or what he’s holding back. I digress. I wanna know why no other packs came to help Derek and Laura after their family died. I wanna know why Emissaries and Druids are so incredibly important to the supernatural/werewolf world but Derek barely knew they existed (Especially when it’s established that he know tons of lore about other species.) and even though every single pack should have an emissary, they never handle who is the emissary for Derek’s pack or for Scott’s pack (Once again, is an emissary bound to their pack somehow or is it just an agreement?). I wanna know why Derek knew Satomi and trusted her but for some reason never felt like he could ask her for help? Centuries of hiding and living amongst humans with almost no wolf behavior to their name, but none of these packs interact? There’s Druid Vets and Hunter cops and Emissary counselors. But no werewolf doctors? No werewolf teachers? Absolutely no werewolf society? If Derek was worried about Paige not accepting that he was a werewolf unless she became one, what does that say about his experience with humans? He says “there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that house” who died in the fire. But wouldn’t he talk to a human pack member about his worries, if he had one? Or even a bitten pack member? He admits he doesn’t know how to train a Bitten wolf. He’s never been called out by a human pack member for using phrases like ‘caught a scent’ or for reacting to things he shouldn’t. Does this mean Derek’s family was entirely werewolves? No humans in the know? No bitten wolves? He has a huge thing about keeping the secret and never letting anyone in on it unless they get dragged into it. Did Derek’s pack have some kind of prejudice against humans? Was Derek raised to believe humans were weak or cowardly or something, that he thought this beautiful girl would automatically hate him and expose him if she were to discover the supernatural without being forced into silence by self-preservation.

Lots of times, it’s easy to forget in this fandom that so much is missing, because we’ve been filling in the gaps for so long that some stuff is practically canon. It’s generally assumed that the Hales were homeschooled before high school. It’s generally assumed that there’s some kind of bond that marks people as pack. We instinctively add in mentions of Scent and the use of the shift (growling, claws, a hint of fang, flashing eyes) as part of the casual communication between characters. We add in scent-marking and territory boundaries and specific roles in the pack. We do all of that and never think twice because it’s already in all the fic. But we did that. The show gave us nothing. It spent an entire season talking about the nogitsune and the oni and how they’re summoned and what kitsune fox tails are for, but we never got to find out why wolves can do the pain-drain (or even if it dissipates the pain or just transfers it to the wolf doing the draining) or if Derek Hale EVEN HAS A DAD.

#personal #rant #Meta Ramblings #it's not even anti-scott #Anonymous #go for it

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oimoi-op · 4 years ago

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when were you diagnosed with t1d?

Ok, so storytime! Short answer is, as of today, barely over two months ago.

(Very long post warning y’all, contains hospital mention and extensive, possibly upsetting descriptions of health conditions, specifically DKA)

My family doesn’t really have a history of T1D or even T2D, though my second-cousin-once-removed has had T1D for over a decade now. So, there was never any reason for me to try and get tests done for it. The only sign I really had up until last semester was two copies of a variant of an HLA gene that I knew about from a 23andMe report (which, according to the report, put me at a higher risk for celiac’s and nothing else), but of course at that time I had no idea that that could mean anything serious; after all, that sort of thing only happens to other people, right?

My college started in-person classes in the latter half of August. By October, I started feeling tired, having a lack of appetite, and needing water very, very badly. I actually went to my school’s clinic, and my erratic heartbeat prompted the doctor to recommend me for a Covid-19 test. My school’s protocols meant that I had to quarantine at my home (since I live within two hours of campus) until I got a negative test result. At home, I was drinking water all the time and sleeping constantly, and my parents had commented on how I’d been losing weight. I thought these were all good things. I had been slightly overweight at my high school graduation, and I’d always heard that drinking a lot of water is good for you, so I thought I was actually in excellent health even if I kind of felt like shit most of the time.

Well. Uh. I was wrong.

When finals came around in mid-November, I was just fucking tired. I’d get a decent eight hours of sleep and still have to take naps during the day. Hell, I was even late for work because I slept through one of my nap alarms. Studying was a pain in the ass. Attending classes was a pain in the ass. Staying awake for Zoom classes was a pain in the ass. I was waking up at 5 am to go to the bathroom, and then I would drink the rest of my water, refill it, drink half of it again, and then go back to sleep. Finally, November 20th rolled around, and I got to leave campus. It was my birthday (yeah I am a Scorpio and that weirds all of my friends out lol), and my parents took me to Fusion. And I just...couldn’t eat at all? I love hibachi, but I couldn’t even eat half of my food. The chef even got me a delicious banana split that I had to basically bully my younger sister into eating with me.

For the next week, I was sleeping about 18 hours a day. I didn’t think this was weird because I’d just had finals so yeah, it makes sense that I would be tired after exams and whatnot. I went shopping with my mom, sister, and sister’s bff. We were only out for a few hours, but I was fucking wiped out y’all, like in pain. Thanksgiving arrived, and again, I love food, I love eating, but I was not hungry in the slightest. I basically had to force myself to eat some of my favorite holiday foods just so I wouldn’t offend my mom, and then I didn’t eat for the day.

The very next morning, I was puking my guts out.

This started a pattern for the next few days: I would eat chicken noodle soup or some other food, sleep like the dead, and throw up every morning and every night. I started chugging large bottles of Gatorade constantly (which, if you know about diabetes and its health complications, did not help my situation in the slightest). I started breathing erratically after very little exertion. Like, I’m talking standing up and stretching brought about heavy, labored breathing. I weighed myself on my parents’ scale, and I was under 130 lbs. Now, for some people this might seem like a lot, but due to my height and build I could fucking see some of my ribs. That was when I started to realize that something was very, very wrong, but “losing weight is good” and I didn’t want my parents to laugh at me for voicing concerns (though, for all their faults, in hindsight, I doubt they would’ve). Yeah. Don’t do that, folks, that’s not a good mindset to have.

On Sunday, my mom took me to town to get tested for Covid. This was despite me saying that I didn’t have symptoms (which I knew very well due to some of my friends catching it at school). Rapid test came back negative, so I did a culture test. Hell, while I was sitting in the damn chair, I was about to pass out. I asked for a nausea pill but my mouth was too dry for it to dissolve. I got a cup of water, downed it all, and felt like my throat was on fire. For the rest of the day I felt so, so awful. At some point I was walking toward my bed in my room and I fucking fell. I’m fucking lucky there was carpet.

Regarding the rest of that night, things start to get blurry, for the lack of a better term. I legitimately cannot recall everything that happened that night or the following two days, so I will just try to explain it in the way I remember it best.

Around...midnight or one??? I was on fucking fire, so I went to my bathroom and decided to lie on the floor. The floor was hardwood and not at all cold, and it wasn’t fucking comfortable even in that state, but I was just in so much pain I didn’t even care. My mom must’ve heard because she found me there and asked me what I was doing. I said something about the floor. She asked me to go back to bed, but I must’ve scared her because she asked me if I wanted her to lie in the bed with me. I don’t remember what I said to her, but we were in the bed and she was trying to hug me, but she was too warm and so I told her to stop. I kept feeling this burning just below my chest, like there was acid in me (which I guess wasn’t too far off), so I would randomly sit up to try and alleviate the pain and not cry. I remember asking my mom to take me to the hospital in the morning.

My mom put me in the truck (I think around 5 am is what she told me). I remembered hearing my dad. I was lying down. Then I was awake, but I was on the floor. I thought this was wrong so I tried to tell my mom that but I guess I couldn’t talk. Then I was in a hospital bed, the ER I assume. My mom gave me some water with a sponge, and I was just so fucking thirsty. Then I was in the ICU hooked up to a bunch of machines. I didn’t know what was going on, but my mom kept giving me water with that sponge. That is all I remember from Monday.

I remember a little bit more from Tuesday. My mom said something about diabetes, but that didn’t make any sense to me because I wasn’t “fat” and I’d been losing weight, even! What had I done to get diabetes? I was thirsty and tired, so I slept a lot. At some point I really needed to use the restroom so I unhooked my IV???? (I mean I must’ve disconnected myself somehow but I can’t remember the details) which set off a shit ton of alarms and people were Very Concerned and kept asking me Why Did You Do That? But I just needed to go to the restroom, and they told me to use the Red Button to Call the Nurse (it was already there, and I now realize that we’d probably had a similar conversation about the Red Button to Call the Nurse possibly multiple times before this) in the future. A Chopped Teen Tournament from 2017 was playing on the TV nonstop. There were commercials for CGMs. I thought that God wasn’t being very funny about the whole thing.

As of now I remember even less of Wednesday, but I know that felt better. There was this diabetes specialist who kept talking about insulin and life at college moving forward, but I wasn’t really there, either because of being so out of it for health reasons, disassociating, or a combination of the two. My mom told me she had emailed a professor so he would give me an extension on an assignment that was due by then, and I remember crying because I thought that was just so nice of him. That night, this guy got me in a wheelchair and put me in another room, which I would later learn was the ACU. My night nurse was this nice woman named Tanya, who had a very thick Eastern European accent. She got me orange juice to take some potassium pills, but it felt like swallowing rocks. I didn’t really get a lot of sleep, so I was awake when the nurses changed shifts. I remember one of them expressing surprise that I was out of the ICU so early.

My mom took longer to come that day because nobody had told her I’d been moved. I’d had plain Cheerios and orange juice for breakfast, but I couldn’t really eat because my throat hurt so badly. I talked to a lot of doctors. I guess at this point or somewhere near it I accepted that I had diabetes, but it wasn’t really real until the same diabetes specialist was going over carbs. I thought I was never going to eat shit I liked ever again. I really wanted a fucking McChicken sandwich. I signed some papers for Medicaid because I had aged out of the CHIP while in the hospital. I finally texted my friends and explained to them what had happened. I was so fucking tired.

I got out the next day, so that was Thursday. Normally, I would’ve been in the hospital much longer (especially because my Medicaid hadn’t been approved, meaning no insurance had approved of my insulin yet), but Covid cases were on the rise and the hospital wanted me out of there. The diabetes specialist and one of my nurses snuck me two fast-acting and two basal insulin pens, and I was out. I ate half a McChicken, a small fry, and drank my first Diet Coke. It tasted like diesel mixed with piss.

That’s the gist of it. The hospital staff was very nice and thoughtful the entire time, I think. I felt as though everyone involved cared about my health a lot.

For those of you who aren’t T1D or just don’t know, what I experienced is called DKA, short for diabetic ketoacidosis. To simplify, I was very close to entering a diabetic coma. My sister later told me that our dad had said (I assume a doctor had told my mother, who, in turn, had told him) that I was “approximately 45 minutes” away from death. DKA happens when a diabetic (usually a T1D like me) has too much blood sugar in their body due to them lacking the insulin necessary to break the sugar down, so their body breaks down their fat reserves and muscle to get the energy it needs. This is why I lost around 50 pounds over the course of a few months (I was 118 lbs. when I entered the hospital, the lowest I’ve been since grade school). I was officially diagnosed with T1D on November 30th, just ten days after my 19th birthday, which is a little older than normal I believe. It’s...well, it’s not fun, but I feel very grateful for my large support system, and tomorrow I’m trying out a CGM for the first time and applying for both it and a pump, so things are really looking up

#personal #iamapincushion #t1d #type one diabetes #type one diabetic #dka #diabetic ketoacidosis #tw hospital #tw dka #i don't think you meant me for to respond with such a long answer #but #well #it's something i've been wanting to post for a while now and this seemed like a good opportunity

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blindedbythedarkness · 4 years ago

Text

Josh,

We need to talk about what you did. About the fact you took your own life. I've been waiting for the perfect moment ever since that day to talk about it, but I don't think it's every gonna come. Right now, I'm as ready as I'll ever be and my need to say these things is growing. It's been tugging me towards this conversation for months now.

So, Josh, let's face it head on. You killed yourself. You threw yourself off that walkway with the sole intent to end your life, and you succeeded, albeit with it a short delay. I just want to make it clear, right now, that I don't blame you for what you did. However, that doesn't mean I don't get angry sometimes.

I wish I knew why you did it. I wish I knew exactly what was running through your head in the weeks, days, hours beforehand. I suppose I can imagine a lot of it, though. I don't think much of it would shock me, I suppose I just wish I'd known so in some Other Life I could have talked to you about every one of those thoughts. I guess on a wider scale too, I have some ideas about what caused your depression and kept it going strong. The things you told us about your upbringing and family would certainly seemed to play a big part in the value you saw in yourself. The lack of support from uni probably made your future options seem very bleak indeed. But the exact reasons are probably far more complex and intertwined and have gone with you to your grave.

What I really wish I knew is what happened that day. I'm not on a witch hunt, but the story I've heard makes it sound as though there were one thousand, tiny, missed opportunities to stop you. What I know is that you had an exam that day, an exam you hadn't revised for. In the middle of that exam you had one of your strange fainting fits. I'm not sure if you continued the exam after that, but it can probably be assumed that the rest didn't go well, even if the first half had done. After that, you took yourself up to the fifth floor of the maths and stats building; you pushed a chair up against the barrier and you wrote your brief, final message to the world on your hand. Then, at around 11:05am that morning, you climbed over the barrier and let go. The rest, as they say, is history.

I lost count of the number of times we told you to go to the doctor about those fainting spells. "If there's something wrong with me, I'd rather not know", you'd say. Then you'd follow it up with a story about how your dad had gone decades without a GP visit. We suggested to B one time that she should withhold sex until you agreed, but she just laughed that she couldn't wait that long. Those fainting spells were strange things. I remember you having one at the top of the stairs once. You were lying there, eyes open, but unable to speak or move. I remember feebly trying to maneuver you into the recovery position, unsure of what else I could do and feeling helpless as I stood over your body. Looking back, I don't think you were fainting. I think they were seizures, likely caused by the extreme stress you were under. I didn't know that was possible at the time, but it seems the signs you weren't coping were staring us in the face.

With this in mind, it makes sense this would happen in the middle of an exam you hadn't revised for. But that also makes me question your state of mind after it happened. The stress alone would probably warp your thinking, and if it was a seizure you had, you brain would have been even more fried. I'm not trying to minimize what you did or imply that you didn't mean it. I fully believe that you wanted to die. But the method you used implies a snap decision as opposed to a planned approach. A moment of weakness in a lifetime of fighting your own brain. It wasn't your fault, you fought so fucking hard for so long. But somehow it breaks my heart more to think it was a spur of the moment decision, potentially added to by a fried brain. You wanted to die, but the lack of plan makes me think a small part of your heart wasn't in it. In another life you could have got past that moment, yet in this reality that part of you was never allowed to grow and flourish. Your poor, tired brain had a moment of weakness and dragged your body down with it, permanently.

I have questions about the whole thing that I'll probably never know the answers to. For example, I wonder what the fuck you were doing alone after becoming unconscious in an exam? People were obviously aware it happened, otherwise we would never have been told. And yet you were just allowed to wander off alone soon after. Did someone try to help and you lied and told them you were fine? Is there someone out there forever blaming themself for believing that you were okay? Or did no one give a fuck? Were they all too self absorbed for your wellbeing to truly matter to them? Did staff stop caring as soon as the exam ended and they were off the clock? Just how did you end up alone, suicidal, five stories high right after publicly collapsing, Josh? I wish to God I knew.

I have other questions too, of course. More general ones that you could probably guess. Like, what stopped you talking to us? Why did you choose to jump instead of sending me a text? What was your last thought? Were you in any pain as you died? Who was the last person to see you properly alive? Did you think of us, of me, before you did it? And is there any reality in which I could have stopped you?

Truth be told, Josh, if I had another chance at that day I still wouldn't know how to change things. Of course I would have tried harder to talk to you about how you were feeling, but I still wouldn't know exactly what to say. Most of all, it seems, you were afraid of failing uni and nothing I could have said would have changed that. Sure, I would much rather have a living uni-dropout friend than a dead one who never technically failed. But it wasn't about what I was okay with, it was about how you felt and the million reasons you felt that way. Simply put, if I could do that day again, I feel like I would need to be by your side for the entire duration to change the outcome. And even then, I would be afraid what the next day would bring.

You were in a terrible fucking place, Josh. I fully understand that. I mean, I will never know the details of your personal mental nightmare, but having lived my own and come close to ending it myself, I feel like I can say I get it. Even now, on bad days, I think of you and just think "I get it." Your depression, a severe and chronic condition, killed you. Just like cancer and strokes and heart attacks kill. It hijacked your brain and the control of your body, just as cancer cells invade and blood clots starve the brain of oxygen. You had just as much choice in the matter as patients of any physical illness. I will never blame you Josh, I promise. It was never your fault.

But, like I say, that doesn't mean I don't get fucking angry. When it first happened the anger was constant and it took all my energy just to stop it boiling over. Now, it comes and goes. I feel angry that you did it. Despite all I know, the part of my brain that reacts impulsively wants to scream that "you're a fucking idiot!", "you're so selfish!" and "how the fuck could you do this to us?!". Of course, when I think about it more I remember that none of that is true. You just wanted to end the pain, you never intended to cause ours. But I have to be honest that those thoughts do always creep back in. It's very easy to be angry that you chose the solution that would never allow it all to get better. It's so permanent, Josh. It's so horribly, painfully permanent.

I just wish I could go back in time, to way before the day you died, and plant the seeds for you to think it okay to talk to friends. To think it okay to drop out of uni. To think it okay to ask for help. I wish so badly I could help the Josh you were before I even met you.

Thank you for letting me finally get this off my chest, Josh. Fuck, I had been holding onto that for so long. So fucking long.

I love and miss you so, so much.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Medical Instruction Vd 1″

First day back at school, so forgive me for being short :)

“Before we get started, I just wanted to make sure that it is known that all parties involved in these videos have agreed to let me use their footage for training purposes, though they may not be used for anything else in accordance with Human Medical Privacy Laws. These tapes will go directly to the intergalactic college of interspecies biology and medicine. Those who are found to use this footage in any way contrary to its original purpose will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law”

The camera turns on shaking form side to side over the floor spinning quickly from the right and then to the left before finally leveling out on an image of a hallway. The Vrul scuttles along the floor with great purpose small fleet clattering against the cold metal. He turns to look at the camera, “I just got a call up the Medical bay for a human in significant respiratory distress also complaining of chest pain, so we are going to head up there and see what is going on. Now I have been the operational medical officer aboard this ship for a while now, and I have seen almost everything there is to see. Doing medicine for humans is…. Well it’s a wild ride simply because of their combination of durability and breakability. They break horribly easily and in horrific ways, but are able to live through it when they do, and that leaves it up to the medical staff to make sure that they are quickly treated so that the shock of their injuries doesn’t send them down the road of you know…. Not being alive.”

They hurried up a hallway following after the little doctor pausing for a few seconds before the medical bay doors which opened with a hiss. A wave of sound washes over the camera, people talking and someone breathing rather heavily. The camera pans up to show a group of humans gathered around a third sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds. They are breathing fast and heavy a hand on their chest eyes wide panicked.

The crowd opens up as the little doctor walks in.

“What do we have?”

“30 year old male with racing heart, difficulty breathing, tingling hands, dizziness, and chest pain.”

The human was breathing even harder now looking around frantically, “I….I….I’m dying….. I think I’m having a heart attack…..I can’t breathe.”

“Alright, let’s get an EKG going first thing.” The little doctor gets to work very quickly all four arms working as he begins to speak, “Now the obvious worry here is the case of chest pain, which in humans can be an indication of a heart attack. Now the heart is a very major organ in a human, and acts as a pump to move blood around the body. The blood contains oxygen and infection fighting cells etc. With a heart attack one of those little vessels in the organ is blocked, usually by plaque or fatty deposits causing death in parts of the heart muscle. Now this human is generally too young and too fit for any of that to happen…” He turns to the human, “Is there a history of heart attack or heart disease in your family?”

The human shakes their head.

“Has this every happened to you before?”

Another head shake.

The doctor ripped off a couple of sticky white circles and attached them to the human’s chest, “Now this will give us a good look of what is going on in there.” There was a pause for a minute as they continued working.

The doctor glanced at the instruments once the information began coming in, “Alright, so this is good news, the heart IS beating fast, but there does not appear to be any blockage, and it is not fast enough to be considered tachycardia. Also their blood oxygen level is within acceptable range meaning that it isn’t likely to be some other issue. Now that leaves our post likely option as being a panic attack.”

He walked over to the human to get their attention, “Do you have a history of anxiety disorder in your family?”

“A few …. Uncles.” He panted, “But it has to be…. A heart attack.”

“Well your heart is actually fine. I think in this case you ARE having a panic attack, now you are alright, this can happen to anyone not just people with a disorder, ok. Now just humor me, and I and I want you to take in one big breath counting to seven, hold it for five and then blow out at five seconds.” The human looked very skeptical, but at the order of the doctor they began.

He left the instruction to one of the other attendees, “You see, this is actually quite common in humans. Emotional functions are very closely intertwined with their physical functions mostly due to their greatly superior fight or flight mechanism. Humans have a very quick physical reaction to panic that causes the heart to beat faster, digestion to shut down and the pupils to dilate. The breathing will also speed up as you have seen. The problem is the human body reacts to the stress of being chased by a predator in the same way it reacts to, social stress, or an approaching deadline.

In this cause stress, and an elevated heart rate could have trigged a panic attack, where the body is having these physical symptoms despite the brain, and now they are trying to figure out an explanation. They generally assume they are having a heart attack or that something else horrible is about to happen, even if it is not.

He turned back to check on the human, whose heart rate had gone down a bit. They were looking a little better, but there still seemed to be a way to go.

“We are just going to have him continue this breathing exercise which is designed to activate the parasympathetic nervous system and calm down the feelings of anxiety and panic. I always find it interesting that the one thing that makes humans the best and dealing with extreme stress, is also the one thing that makes them crumble under more mild states of stress.

***

“So we have been called in again this time, we have a 25 year old male presenting with, extreme abdominal pain, vomiting, nausea, and a low grade fever.” The doctor walked in wearing more protective gear than he had last time. The camera pans up to another human lying on one of the beds curled into a ball moaning, face screwed up in pain, hands clutched around his middle rocking slowly back and forth in a writhing sort of way. One of the other doctors had placed a metal bowl by the human’s head as they groaned.

The doctor moved forward and had the human roll onto his back, though the human did not seem as if he wanted to. The alien doctor listened to the human’s innards, and then began lightly pressing on the abdominal cavity. As soon as he did, the human yelped in pain and curled up again looking as if he was about to be sick.

“Abdominal pain in the lower right quadrant, I would wager to say this is probably a case of appendicitis.” The doctor motioned for one of the orderlies to grab a machine and roll it over, “Now the human appendix is a part of the intestines that was long thought to be useless or a vestigial structure that humans used more when they had to clear large amounts of plant material through their digestive tract. In many cases it acts as a blind pocket that sometimes collects bacteria and then becomes inflamed. You CAN fix it with antibiotics, but the general consensus is removal.” He pulled the machine into position, using a short wand covered in cold gel to pass over the human’s skin just above the problem spot.

“Ah, just like I thought, you see that right there.” He pointed to the screen, “This right here is the inflammation being caused by the infection, and the reason that the human is going to be in so much pain right now. I would suggest at this point that we just go in and remove it with a simple laparoscopic appendectomy. As far as procedures goes, this one is actually relatively easy and should take no more than a few minutes for me to perform. Now before you go questioning me about the time frame for this surgery, I do remind you that I am the most experienced surgeon in the galaxy. I guarantee the prep for this surgery will take longer than my ability to actually preform it.”

The human groaned.

“Don’t worry, we will have you fixed up almost immediately.”

***

“I find that there are a few general things you want to look for when treating humans. The first big one is energy level. Your average human is going to be very…. Sharp you will see it in the eye and head movements, they will, or should be very energetic with their head and arm movements, especially around the chest and shoulders. Humans like using their hands to talk. A lot of the time you can tell something is wrong with a human when they are listless and slow to respond. You may see their eyes wandering and they won’t focus on you, now some humans behave that way, but your average human will generally try to make eye contact with you at some point. Watch to make sure they are supporting their own heads, or does it seem to be bobbing or tilting in one way or another. A few other things is a general change in appetite from what is considered usual. A stressed or sick human may eat too little or too much. If your human appears confused or is having trouble answering simple questions, you will want to check them over straight away. As I said before, a sick human might appear listless, lethargic, they will tend to sleep a lot, and they may be irritable. I would make it a point to warn most students about that fact when dealing with humans, sometimes in cases of serious injury humans tend to act in anger to pain, so they might try to fight you off or to get away, especially if the pain is really bad, they are sort of resorting back to their more baser instincts. Occasionally you may have to strap them down, or even sedate them , while there are a few humans who like comfort when they are in pain, there is a large group of them who do not like to be touched or talked to when they are. I would say that is also an important thing to note, both psychological and physical pain can cause a human to isolate themselves form you, so just make sure you are watching for those signs because they can be indicators that something is seriously wrong.”

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kiarcheo · 4 years ago

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It’s All Coming Back to Me Now 6/?

To read on Ao3 click here (if lately you had the same problem with links on Tumblr as me, try removing the https://href.li/? part from the URL)

You can read the previous parts on Tumblr click here

DISCLAIMER: In Plato’s words. I know that I know nothing. It doesn't stop me from writing. As always this is fiction and what I write is what suits the narrative I want.

Also I feel like there are a lot of expectations about this one…not sure I met them, but this is what I got.

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

For all the scenarios Katherine had thought of, her song putting a halt to the musical writing process had not been one of them. She doesn’t notice at first. Cathy’s song is the next one and she just assumes she is taking her time with it. She knows how careful the writer is when choosing her words (picky, Anne had teased her while telling them how long it took Cathy to decide on what to write on Kat’s birthday card). So it takes Kat a while to realise that Cathy never brings up the musical anymore. None of them do.

Their reactions to the song had been...strong. They have all come to care deeply about the youngest queen (and each other in general) and hearing what she went through...Rage does not do justice to what they felt...among many other feelings.

Catalina’s legs had given away beneath her halfway the first verse, a strangled noise alerting Anna, who had lunged forward and had barely managed to catch her before she hit the ground. Then Catalina had literally used her friend’s body to support herself and climb back to her feet. Anna had not minded, the contact grounding her. Even somehow knowing what to expect, it did not make listening to it any easier. So she had stood there, an arm loosely around Catalina’s shaking frame, ready to hold her up if need be.

As Katherine concluded her song, all you could hear in the control room were muffled sobs from all the queens. Until the girl stood up.

‘Get yourself together.’ Catalina had hoarsely growled. ‘It’s not about you.’

Cathy had not been sure if she had been talking to them or to herself. If she had to be honest, she had not expected such a visceral reaction from her. From Kat’s cousins, maybe, but not from Catalina. And not because she cared less or anything like that. Anyone spending some time with them could easily tell that Catalina loved Kat. Just…in a different way compared to Anne or Jane or even herself and Anna. Almost…maternal. Which makes sense if Cathy thinks about it. Catalina had been the only one of them who got to be a mother. And Kat was the youngest queen, in the past and also now that they came back, even if not by much (Cathy herself was just a few years older). But the first queen had always strived to maintain a certain degree of composure, even around them, while Anne and Jane had been more open with their emotions. For Catalina to let go, to let them see her so raw and exposed…

As soon as Kat had stepped into the room, Catalina had engulfed her in a tight hug. When Anne had tried to step in, she had immediately recoiled at the glare she had received. But after a while, with no sign of Catalina letting Kat go any time soon, Anne had given up on waiting for her turn, and just decided to try her luck and join the hug. With no protest forthcoming, it quickly became a group hug.

They had made sure to make crystal clear to Kat their support and willingness to listen or do anything she might need them to do. But what resulted was also an unsaid agreement among them not to bring up the topic unless Kat did it first. Which included not bringing up the musical since her song is all about that and what started everything.

Everyone took it hard, but nobody took it harder than Catalina. She knew 13-year-old Katherine. She remembers 13-year-old Katherine as if it was yesterday. To know what happened to her. Because she left her. Before, she had thought her death had indirectly led to Katherine’s marriage and consequently her death. But now…To know that as soon as she left her, everything bad started to happen to the girl she considers a daughter...The nightmares, which had petered off, come back with a vengeance.

That’s the main reason it takes a while for Kat to realise she hasn’t really thought or talked about the musical since she presented her song: all her focus and energy are on Catalina. She is back at spending her nights at her side, after arguing that she would be awake in her room anyway, so at least they can be awake together. It takes its toll on their days too. Not just because they are tired from sleepless nights. The only reason Catalina can still face Katherine is that she knows how hurt she would be if she were to go back at avoiding looking at her like when she first arrived. Catalina’s guilt is overwhelming and colours every interaction.

They are both aware of how it is affecting their relationship and decide to take remedial actions before it becomes too much and ruins it permanently: they are going to therapy.

It is not the first time the topic comes up. It had been one of the suggestions on the online forums they had looked at when Catalina had decided that it was time to start to deal with what they deemed, for the sake of brevity, ‘the Mary issue’. They had found some support groups for families of offenders. Among the advice on how to come to terms with a loved one committing terrible crimes, a common one was therapy. Except that Catalina could not exactly talk about her daughter burning people at stake for religious dissent without A) breaking the NDA she signed about not revealing her true identity to the public B) likely being considered deranged. That’s also why she never attended any group in person, limiting herself to research, reading and self-help with Katherine’s support.

But now, that is not enough, and Catalina is willing to try anything to save their relationship (and she thinks Katherine might benefit from talking about her trauma, properly…and with a professional). They decide to ask their ‘handlers’ for recommendations, taking advantage of their help as long as they can before potentially pissing them off with their musical. Considering the NDAs they had signed, it is likely in their interest that they don’t go to a random therapist and spill the beans. Indeed, they get a handful of names of approved professionals who are used to work with people not always able to fully disclose their past, or even their present (they didn’t get details, but their guess is something like witness protection or law enforcement) and thus won’t question weird gaps and omissions in patients’ histories.

They do some research and choose a practice with multiple therapists, all women, with different specialisations. The first meeting is with a senior partner who will get the laydown and decide whom, among the associates, refer them to.

‘My name is Doctor Sonya Newton, I’m going to ask you some questions to assess the issues and decide the best way to move forward, okay?’ the doctor starts after the prospective patients sit down. ‘It is important that you are as truthful and open as you can. If you don’t wish to answer, say so and we’ll move on, but please don’t lie. Lying will only, at best, undermine our efforts and at worst hurt them...or you. You are free to leave at any point, to decide that you don’t wish to continue, to look for another practice, again – I can’t stress this enough – at any point. We are here to help you, and if it’s not working for you…well, what is the point then?’

She waits for a response, and only after she gets a pair of tense nods, she moves on. ‘Now that ground rules are done. Let’s start with the basics. Can you tell me your name and your relationship with each other?’

‘My name is Katherine and I’m her-’ she hesitates.

‘Daughter. She is my daughter and I’m Catalina, her mother.’

The doctor scribbles something down. She didn’t miss the hesitation in Katherine’s answer nor the glance she sent the older woman, but neither she missed the elated look when Catalina took over and replied.

‘Who did decide to come?’ It’s the following question.

‘We both did.’ This time is Katherine who answers for both, Catalina nodding in agreement.

‘That’s good. When both parties are willing to put in the work…the first step is half the journey.’ Sonya smiles at them. ‘What are you hoping to get from these sessions?’

‘There are some...issues that are affecting our relationship and we realised we needed help to deal with them properly.’

‘That’s also good. Recognising there is a problem is the first step and doing something about it is the best second one.’ Catalina’s reply gets another approving nod from the doctor. ‘What do you think those issues are?’

They share a look, a response not coming as quickly as the previous ones.

‘Let me ask a different question. What do you hope the other will get from this?’

‘I hope she’ll realise that what happened to me was not her fault. She literally could not do anything about it. She feels guilty for stuff that was completely out of her control. I’ve never blamed her, not then, not now, and I wish she could see it.’

Sonya hums. She had not expected Katherine to take the lead. It is shaping up to be an interesting and perhaps rather unusual dynamic.

‘What about you?’

‘I know she feels guilty for me feeling guilty.’ It’s basically a self-feeding circle. Catalina feels guilty for what happened to Kat leading to nightmares and her instinctively trying to distance herself from the girl. Kat feels guilty that Catalina is suffering again from nightmares because of her, despite it not being her fault, and she is hurt because of the distancing. Which leads Catalina to feel even more guilty because she is hurting her. ‘But actually, the thing I really want is...for her to feel confident and secure in my love. Stop living in fear of disappointing me, in fear I’ll leave her-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know-’ Kat had not realised she knew. ‘I know you would not do that, I don’t want you to think that-’

‘I know. I got you back and I'm never letting you go. No matter what. There is nothing you could do that could make me love you any less. Especially not something that was not your fault. It just breaks my heart every time you look surprised at me being proud of you, or you second-guess calling yourself my daughter-’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it was hurting you, I-’ Katherine starts again.

‘That’s what I mean.’ Catalina interrupts her gently but addressing the doctor. Then she turns to Kat again. ‘You’re not responsible for my feelings. Just like you’re not responsible for my nightmares.’

‘I have some points I’d like you to elaborate a bit more on, if you don’t mind.’ Sonya says looking at her notes after waiting for some moments to be sure they don’t wish to say more on the matter. ‘But first. Do you agree with what the other said about you?’

She gets twin resigned sighs and nods.

‘Okay.’ She jots something down. ‘Now. You both referred to something that happened and you were not at fault for. Can you tell me what those things are?’

Catalina defers to Katherine with a look clearly saying ‘that’s your call’.

The girl swallows. ‘Sexual abuse.’

‘Child sexual abuse.’ Catalina growls.

The doctor looks down at her notepad. No matter how long you have been on the job and how much horrible stuff you hear, it never gets easier. She takes a moment to digest it, before moving on because she has a job to do. 'Do you blame yourself for that, Katherine?’

‘No. I know it was not my fault. I was a child and even later, I didn’t really have a choice.’

‘And you were still a child.’

‘Can I ask how old you were?’

‘It started when I was 13.’

The doctor nods. The girl looks in her early twenties at most, so that was not such a long time ago, especially if it went on for a while.

‘Do you feel or ever felt that your mother would think it was your fault?’

‘No. Not that. Just...that...she’d be…disappointed? Ashamed? Lots of people didn’t believe me, you know. Or thought I deserved what I got. Went looking for it.’ She gets lost in the memories for a few moments. ‘But I never thought she’d be one of them. But I also knew that it was not what she had hoped for me.’

‘Of course, it was not.’ Catalina almost spats out. ‘I would not wish that on my worst enemy, of course I would not wish that for my child.’

‘I always wanted to make her proud.’

‘You do.’

‘And I struggle to believe that. She is right.’ Katherine admits, referring to what Catalina listed as the main issue she hoped therapy would help her with. ‘It’s just that I’ve always looked up to her. I know she is not perfect. She doesn’t have to be. Not with me.’ She sends her a pointed look. ‘Look. I don’t know.’ Her tone is slightly defeated. ‘I’m generally quite confident in lots of things...but I just...feel like I don’t deserve her? After my mother died, she has been the only one who ever truly and genuinely loved me for myself without ulterior motives. Some days it’s just hard to believe that she did. Does. Since nobody else ever did.’

Catalina clears her throat. ‘I know four people who would argue about that...’

‘Until recently, I guess.’ Katherine corrects herself, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips.

Sonya hums. ‘You mentioned your mother dying?’

‘I adopted her after we....reunited.’

‘That’s a lot to unpack.’ The doctor mumbles almost to herself as she keeps writing quickly on her notepad. ‘Am I correct in saying that you feel guilty about not stopping the abuse from happening?’

Catalina nods while Katherine mutters ‘Literally impossible.’

‘Can you give me some background? How did you meet? What happened...’

‘After her mother died, she was in my care,’ they had gone over what they could share and what not. Saying that Kat was taking care of Catalina would be strange, but the opposite made more sense and was expected, and it could explain their bond just like the truth would. ‘Then I had to-’

‘Leave.’

Catalina swallows and nods. That’s a way to put it. But she is glad that Kat did it for her...and like that. Her death is still a difficult topic for her. At first it had been more about the circumstances in which she died, but now, knowing what happened after...it’s even worse.

Sonya raises an eyebrow, as if to let them know she is aware that they are not telling the full story, but she nonetheless motions for them to continue.

‘I was sent to stay with some relatives. That’s where it started.’

‘Did you choose to leave?’ The doctor addresses Catalina.

‘No! It was,’ she takes a breath, ‘circumstances beyond my control.’

Sonya nods. It is not uncommon to know something rationally but emotionally still feeling guilty. ‘What happened after? Things seem to be better now...’

‘We were...brought back together.’ They beam at each other. ‘I officially adopted her.’

‘The last years had been the best of my life.’

The doctor can’t help smiling at the obvious happiness and love they radiate while talking about each other being together again. ‘Is there a specific reason you have decided to seek counselling now or is it just...right time, circumstances, things coming to a head now...’ she wonders.

‘Up until recently I had not shared what happened. Like, she knew how it ended, they all did. But not everything that came before.’

‘That’s a very brave thing to do. Sharing is never easy. Especially if you have done so in the past and have not been believed. And considering your fear of losing her love.’ She adds since that’s specific to her case. ‘Also I commend you for reaching out and looking for help. Both of you. Often admitting that you need help is the hardest step.’

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

Therapy now joins Spanish, writing and creating a musical, and adoption in the list of things I wrote about in this fic I know very little of.

#six the musical #catherine and katherine #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #fic: It’s All Coming Back to Me Now #six fic #six the musical fic #six catherine of aragon #six katherine howard #mywork #my ideas #six writing #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #my six posts #my posts

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devourer--of--books · 4 years ago

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Callis was Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist and here’s why

Okay so, in this post we’ll be discussing topics such as sex, contraception, and some religion in the context of it being used as a mean to control people sexually.

If you’re younger than 13, honestly, this post isn’t for you.

If you’re unlucky, like me, and your school didn't give you proper sex ed, I beg you to ask someone about it. Your older sibling, your mom, someone, okay? Ask google. It’s important stuff you need to know.

First of all, for composure’s sake, let’s all pretend I didn’t start thinking of this due to me writing a smut fic. At 4am, on my tablet notes. On my defense, tho, there’s an astonishing lack of E-rated fics on this fandom and someone ought do it, okay? Moving on.

So, where shall we start?

Let’s get context out of the way, welcome to my analyses, the actual headcanons are here, I promise, let me just bore you to death first:

The SGE book series overall is set in fantasy fairytale land (The Endless Woods), with the exception of Gavaldon, aka, the reader village. Due to this, there’s not really a time period liking the SGE world to ours, neither can it be presumed by the world building, as Soman mixes traditional medieval elements with modern elements, which I know bothers some of you too, it ain’t just me, but nevermind that right now.

The point is, the arguments I’m making on this post are based on aspects mentioned in the books, but I’m also going to draw some information from the real world.

A big chunk of the first two books rely on the world the existence of a patriarchal structure in that world, as do some plot points during the rest of the series, but if I were to dive into that we’d be here all night. Talking about the Endless Woods social structure is very complicated, specially with the ‘no labels in the woods’ stuff combined with the misogyny. It’s messy.

Thankfully for this post, we’ll only go into Gavaldon, because I feel things there are more… explicit (pun intended).

So here’s what we know of Gavaldon’s social structure pre-book 1:

It’s a decent sized village with no official government. There’s no political figure of power, such as prince or a mayor, as they eventually get in QFG. There also doesn’t seem to be an actual economic class distinction between the people of Gavaldon, other than mentions of beggars (pretty sure it’s just one tho, but I might be wrong). Everyone works and trades amongst themselves, with people having more or less the same things (except for Callis and Agatha, due to them being social outcasts).

Who has power in Gavaldon?

The Elders Council. They make the laws, they are respected, they have influence, and therefore they have power. These dudes stopped people from selling food to Stefan’s family during book 2, and threatened his new family in front of everybody during book 3. And everyone in Gavaldon loved that man. Why are they powerful tho?

Power is born out of inequality. If you have what we have not, we follow where you lead. Gavaldon has no nobles and no bourgeoisie. Geez, I wonder which powerful class we’re missing.

The clergy.

Personally, I hold no love for the church. I’m an atheist, but, as this post is about SGE and not religion, I’ll try to be as neutral as possible, as the point is not to offend or disrespect anyone. When I mention ‘religion’ or ‘clergy’ from this point on, I’m talking about religion as an Institution. As in the Medieval Catholic Church (which if you don’t agree was at least kind of very evil, I don’t know if I want you reading my posts anyway, so feel free to leave).

Most likely, the members of Elders Council of Galvadon were linked to its Church, whatever religion they may have. I can’t see any reason why they would have so much influence otherwise. Who appoints new men to the positions once one of them dies? I’m gonna guess the remaining members of the Council.

And no one said anything? For centuries. Okay. Corruption? Never heard of her.

Also, burning unmarried women as a way to solve problems claiming they were witches? Wonder where I’ve seen this before.

The fact they’re men, should get mentioned too, just in case you forgot. I bet there are women just as old and wise, if not wiser than the members of the council. Hm, wow why they’re not part of the council.

This hypothesis ties in with the fact that the education given to the kids is limited to the local school, which, given the lack of government and simplicity of work relations, is probably funded by the clergy. We don’t see any proof of this, but again, if we’re comparing Galvadon to a medieval village, it would make sense.

What is even taught at this school? Math and whatever language they speak there, sure, but like they have little to no history that we know of, geography would be pointless, there are no foreign languages, science who, and with these clowns running the village I’ll bet there is no philosophy or social studies and... Doesn’t matter, let’s not do this right now.

Callis briefly mentioned that all girls in Galvadon must marry before the end of their school education, or they are deemed witches. The Elders Council even chooses the matches, in case those aren’t naturally formed or if they disagree with pre-existing ones. These kids are what,15,16, maybe younger?

(this makes me so mad, you have no idea-)

ANYWAY. They form these child marriages, for... look I’m gonna presume is because of population reposition. They need an average of 2 kids per couple or they’ll have more people dying than people being born. Let’s just presume it’s because of this because if it’s because of some tradition stuff I’ll scream, okay?

Maybe they have a low life expectancy in Gavaldon (which is another evidence for the case that the elders are part of the clergy, they probably don’t work, so they live longer).

So have them teenage girls poping them babies, I guess.

Also, a miracle they have survived this long, because the genetic pool for Gavaldon must be the worst ever, everyone is related to everyone, ew. At least, in theory, there would be no STIs.

In theory.

Ahem… During the middle ages, all forms of birth control tended to be frowned upon, at least here on the west, including coitus interruptus (aka, pull out method), (tho it depends of who was the pope at the time, some of them were cool with this one if you already had too many kids and was like super poor), because sex was supposed to be about procreating, so a marriage with no kids was ‘pointless’.

(hear me raging in the background, this context is stressing me out, i just wanna get to the headcanons-)

We can assume this view is probably compatible with the Elders Council mindset, as they are marrying CHILDREN.

If there were any available contraceptive methods, you can bet they weren’t teaching this stuff at school. They probably have no sex ed, and if they do, it’s going to be just about periods and vague stuff. Gotta love them church schools (I never went to one, officially, but honestly, I live in Brazil, what even is Secular State).

(“Don’t have sex before marriage, you’re gonna get pregnant and die”, - one of the teachers at the Galvadon school at some point, I bet)

Let me also mention that there is an specific Gavaldon law that states that if a girl is pregnant she is going to marry the boy who knocked her up. Which, specially in Vanessa’s case, makes no f-ing sense. Could she prove it was Stefan’s? Did she sent it to a DNA lab? If Stefan was the Elders favorite why would they not take his word?

I digress, let’s say Stefan didn’t deny sleeping with her and only said he was under a spell, which, hm, how dumb do you have to be to do that, it’s lying 101, Stefan c’mon, but okay, you do you.

So they are probably super “moral” in Galvadon. You know, the kind of moral who just swipes stuff under the rug. Like, yeah, Stefan you’re now doomed to marrying Vanessa, but ain’t nobody gonna say a thing if you cheat on her as long as you don’t do it during plain daylight.

(The amount of closeted gays in Gavaldon is probably astronomical, can you imagine?)

And then you have Callis. Whom I think is probably responsible for the introduction of birth control in Gavaldon. We have arrived at the headcanons. Hear me out:

After Stefan saved Callis, she was deemed a witch. She’s a ‘witch’ doctor for the town. Only the most desperate of people seek her out.

That means she normally wouldn’t get a lot of patients. Like, Idk about you, but Gavaldon doesn’t seem big enough for her to have people looking for her everyday. And she probably had to feed Agatha somehow.

But, while her being a doctor for normal diseases wasn’t really working all that well, everyone knew she had a hand in Vanessa’s miracle child. So ‘infertile’ women and women who had been getting sickly during pregnancies start looking for her, asking for her to help them.

Callis obviously doesn’t use her magic, but as she can’t say she used magic for Vanessa, she gives them generally good advice about herbs and stuff they can add to their food to make it ‘more likely’, aka stuff that reduces stress, telling them how to eat better, stuff they should avoid, etc. She’s no big expert, but at least in the Endless Woods they had sex ed and she was witch, she just knows stuff.

So she becomes this sort of witch gynecologist for Gavaldon’s desperate women.

It works for a while, but then people eventually share these tips amongst themselves to avoid going to see her. Then, it’s back to slightly starving herself so baby Agatha could eat.

One day, a teenage girl arrives at her doorstep in the middle of the night, trading food for her help. If she could ‘make people more fertile’, she could surely make them miscarriage. Maybe this girl got pregnant by sleeping with someone the elders didn’t aprove for her to marry, maybe it was something else a bit darker, but we won’t talk about how that could be common, given you could literally force someone to marry you if they had your child.

Callis panics, because she wasn't ‘making anyone more fertile’ really, she was making them healthier and therefore more likely to have a healthy kid. If she were to tell her to do the reverse of what she told the others, not only it wouldn’t work, but it would actually harm the girl’s health.

At first she’s like, “I can’t help you…”, but then she hears baby Agatha crying, poor thing, so hungry all the time. So Callis decides, “you know what, might as well”.

There’s probably many potions made with magic one could take to not have a baby in the Woods. Even ones that cause abortions with no side effects or danger to the woman. But there also more natural ways, ones that maybe aren’t 100% effective, but would work, tho it had some side effects.

So Callis, makes her a potion to take. For real life comparisons, let’s say she used Queen Anne’s Lace, which works a bit like Plan B. The girl is thankful, and goes on her way.

Soon enough, everybody knows Callis can do these potions. You have girls sneaking to Graves Hill in the middle of the night to get help in exchange for food and while the elders know something is fishy, they can’t do much anything about it. They ask Callis what is up with that and she’s like ‘nope, just ya know, helping them have babies, plan b who’.

She tries to introduce a variation of the potion, one that acts as birth control, because it would stop people from being irresponsable all the time, but the Plan B one is the one every girl wants, because well, it’s easier. You can be unsafe and then take a potion and it’s fine. Soon, it’s not just girls. There’s full grown women there too, who should really know better.

She is pissed, so she says she won’t make them any more potions unless people stop being so careless.

Someone tries to make a knock-off potion, but it ends tragically, because people don’t really know what Callis puts in it. And well… you know what looks a bit like Queen Anne’s Lace?

F-ing Water Hemlock, that’s what.

After that incident, people listen to Callis when it came to ingesting stuff. And thus, birth control culture is born in Gavaldon. Other people started trying out other things to avoid dealing with Callis, like animal-based condoms, pull-out method and inserting acacia gum into your vagina before you had sex,but she had a good clientele overall.

The Elders? Pissed. But since they couldn’t just prove this was her fault, they just kept on hating on her from a distance.

After Agatha has her first period, Callis sits her down and pretty much gives her the talk. Agatha doesn’t really see a point to it, boys are gross, but she listens nonetheless.

Callis gives Agatha the best sex ed homeclass ever, you can bet she will teach her correct anatomy, debunk myths the school told her about both periods and her own body and even promised her to teach her how to make the birth control potion once she got older.

Again Agatha doesn’t see a point, but okay.

When Agatha comes home with Tedros, years later tho. Callis is... worried.

She tries to ask Agatha if she’s being safe but her daughter just... stops functioning. Blushing like crazy.

(“We just kissed, like, once, mom.”)

That being said… Callis doesn’t live long enough to teach her how to make the potion.

So when Tedros and Agatha’s relationship starts to progress (hm… if you wanna read something about it, maybe wait a couple of days, I might or my might not have a sin fic in the works, it wouldn’t be one of my posts if it had no self-promotion, I’m my own sponsor after all) she’s unsure of who to ask about this.

And it makes her extra sad about her mother’s death, so that’s great.

I honestly don’t know who she would ask. If you have any ideas, please tell me. Because I’m kind of inclined to think that maybe Merlin might have predicted this and handed a recipe to her as a semi-joke, but idk. Maybe Uma?

But yes, Callis was totally Gavaldon’s first witch gynecologist. And after they made Stefan mayor, I want people to remember her for the absolute legend she was, okay?

#school for good and evil series #school for good and evil #sge #Callis of Netherwood #Agatha of Woods Beyond #gavaldon

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 4 years ago

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Who said black cats were just bad luck? (Prompt: Stars)

Nathan Arch and Joey Drew had been ‘friends’ since the pair were young boys. Nathan was a studious child who even at a young age, took his family’s image and reputation seriously and saw supernatural forces as nothing more than silly superstition and myths. Joey on the other hand, was an energetic and mischievous little imp of a child who believed in the supernatural forces. So naturally, they hated each other on sight at first.

In childhood, the boys’ relationship was strained even further by their parents forcing them to be the best of friends when the pair barely had anything in common aside from their mutual dislike for having their afternoons, weekends, and summers being ‘wasted’ in each other’s presence.

This had led to Nathan bullying the smaller kid, nothing like punching or kicking the impish boy, Nathan Arch was no brute. But he did make fun of Joey, a lot. Most often by mocking his supernatural interests, calling them silly and childish as well as occasionally ruining the boy’s belongings whenever he was too irritated to deal with him. Joey of course didn’t take this lying down and had retaliated by playing nasty pranks on Nathan; shaking up soda bottles, putting creepy bugs in his things, drawing rude pictures into his school books, things like that.

Nathan compared the ritual circles in Joey’s father’s books to something like “wishing on a shooting star, but this one is just drawn on the ground with chalk.”, and Joey would fill his school bag with earthworms. Joey would tie Nathan’s shoes together and laugh as he fell on his face, and Nathan would throw one of Joey’s sketchbooks in a muddy puddle.

Then, ‘the incident’ happened and Joey returned from visiting Henry’s hometown with an injured leg and now had a haunted look in his eyes.

The boys’ petty rivalry was snuffed out soon afterwards; Nathan knew that guilt would eat him alive if he tried anything and Joey seemed to wrapped up in his own struggles to even bother trying to mess with Nathan. Either out of pity, guilt, or a mix of the two, Nathan did try to reach out to Joey, whether it was with a ‘get well soon’ card that came in a gift basket or seeing him in person at the hospital, but it was obvious that it was a bad idea for him to push anything further.

Whether their parents decided it was in poor taste to continue to shove them together in the hopes of them being friends or some Doctor gave an order for Joey to rest, the two drifted apart shortly after the incident.

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

A few years later, Nathan Arch had gotten into a good college and was just setting up his side of the Dorm when he heard someone else come in.

“Archie? Is that you? How long has it been?!”

Turning around to face his new roommate, Nathan Arch’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the man he hadn’t since childhood. Joey carried around a cane now for obvious reasons, he had gone from a pipsqueak of a child to a beanstalk of a young adult, and he was a lot neater (at least, appearance-wise) than he was as an unruly little imp. But the mischievous spark had been re-lit in his eyes.

“Drew? Why, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

He hesitated for a second, what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he could just pretend that their history was nothing but dust under the rug, but at the same time, he’d much rather carry on a conversation that matched Joey’s upbeat tone... No, this was just like medicine, swallow it down first and fast, and then it does its job.

“Joey... About how I treated you when we were kids... I’m Sorry. It was petty and cruel of me to take out my frustrations on you when neither of us had any say in the matter of how our lives went. And I deeply regret it, I can understand if-ACK!”

He was cut off by Joey crushing him in a bear hug.

“I forgive you, you verbose, pompous airbag.”

Rolling his eyes at the insult, Nathan hugged Joey back.

Having Joey as a roommate was an... interesting experience. It was a mostly positive one as in spite of his cheerful demeanor and strong preference towards the arts as opposed to business or something of that sort, he was not a man child and did follow the rules and assigned chores of the dorms.

Compared to other students at the college, Nathan probably lucked out when he got Joey, but there was just one little thing about Joey that bothered him, nothing too serious, just a little itch of a problem.

For the most part, Joey talked about his father’s arcane tomes and spell books a lot less than he used to as a kid, but now on the once in a blue moon occasion where he did speak of the occult, he took it a lot more seriously. Perhaps even more seriously than christian priests teaching the word of God. The man treated magic how Nathan wished Joey would treat money; warning against using it frivolously, not using it when he didn’t need it, and looking into the pros and cons of each and every spell before using it.

It didn’t come up often enough for Nathan to be too nervous, but there were a few instances in college where Joey’s occultism was strongly noticeable, and not just on Halloween...

While Nathan was mature enough to keep his thoughts to himself, some things could never change. Like his views on the supernatural. He still saw magic as something fictional, but he also saw how important it was to Joey, and part of him feared that bringing up his opinions about magic would send the two back into being rivals, so he kept his mouth shut.

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

While the four years of college flew by a little too quickly for Nathan’s liking, he was pleasantly surprised by how well those four years had not only repaired his and Joey’s relationship. Going from near strangers with an unpleasant history to genuine friends who kept in touch with each other even after college was just a memory in the rear-view mirror of the past. Heck, Joey even was the best man at Nathan’s wedding! And he had the pictures on his mantle piece to prove it!

Nathan was looking through a scrapbook Joey had made and sent to the happy couple as a wedding gift. It contained various pictures of the dates the two went on and the last few pages were pictures of the proposal itself. Nathan smiled as he flipped through the book, wondering what kind of gift he should make Joey in return for his own wedding (if he ever decided to marry).

But that smile fell into a concerned frown as he saw the last page; symbols he recognized from Joey’s spell books: a long forgotten language within a circle that entrapped an upside-down star. The ‘explanation’ was that this was a good luck spell wishing him and Tessa a happy future as husband and wife.

He sighed, closed the book with a little more force than he meant to, and flopped down on the couch. As if she could sense that he was upset, Tessa had come into the living room right as he tossed the book to the other end of the couch.

“Nate? What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared, Tess.”

“About Joey?”

“Yes, I had assumed that he’d grow out of this silly superstitious nonsense sometime when he genuinely matured into adulthood, but if anything, he’s gotten even worse! It’s one thing to go to church every Sunday or to read a Torah, but at best what he’s getting himself into is setting himself up to be scammed by every phony fortune teller on the block and at worse it’s genuine devil’s worship!”

Tessa nodded in sympathy.

“So do you just need to get this off your chest or do you want advice, Dear?”

Unbeknownst to the couple, a shooting star past by outside.

“Well, as much as I’d like to get advice, I don’t know what on earth could work, Joey and I were practically at each other’s throats all the time before ...his incident. While “magic” was there for him for his entire life... I want to help him out of this but I don’t want to lose him as a friend. I just wish I could understand him and why he’s so invested in all that sorcery-crap!”

“You know Nate, sometimes I feel the same way.”

“The floor’s all yours, Doll.”

“I think I can understand the appeal of just wanting to snap your fingers and make every problem you have get carried off by living furnature or whatnot but magic always seems like it’s out to get you! I wish I knew why anyone for that matter would see magic as anything other than trouble.”

The pair sighed in unison and it was Tessa’s turn to flop down on the couch.

“So Tess, where did you get the new hat?”

“New hat?” she raised an eyebrow and reached up to her head “I don’t remember getting a new ...hat...”

She took the pointed witch’s hat off of her head and looked at it in pure disbelief before looking back to her husband and practically jumping back in fear.

“Tessa?! What’s wrong?!”

“Nathan... D-don’t panic, but...” she fumbled around in her purse for her compact case before pulling it out and clicking it open, handing it over to her husband.

Nathan’s jaw dropped open by a cartoonish degree as he saw his reflection; white fur was quickly sprouting up all over his face, getting framed with black fur that spouted on the rest of his body. In a matter of mere seconds, he didn’t even look like a human being anymore! He looked more like that fat cat character in the comics he saw Joey draw.

He looked down at himself and screamed when he saw that the rest of his body had also changed, and when he looked back up to his wife, he screamed again as he realized that she too had gone under some kind of transformation.

Her normally brightly colored attire was replaced by a floor-length black dress. She was still human, or at least, much more human than he was, but she looked simplified in a sense, more like a living drawing of herself. Her pie-cut eyes were filled with concern as she saw the fear in his eyes.

“Oh don’t tell me...”

Nathan bit his lip and nodded.

#hauntober #stars #bendy and the ink machine #batim monster au #nathan arch #joey drew #tessa arch #fanfic

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missing-my-griffin · 5 years ago

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I would love your insight because you’re smart and you seem like a pretty positive person. I’m a bit confused as to why E/cho wouldn’t see how Bellamy is in love with Clarke??? She’s a spy, right? Also, are we to believe he’s going to keep E in the dark even after sacrificing everything for Clarke for the 2nd time? Wouldn’t that make him feel guilty? It feels OOC. I wasn’t expecting canon bellarke, but it feels OOC for b/e to still together. It makes E look stupid and B look...a tiny bit mean.

Well firstly you telling me I’m smart and positive actually made me smile like an idiot so thank you!!

What a loaded question. I have two theories regarding Echo. First one is: Grounder culture is brutal, it’s about survival, it’s about war and strategy. She is a war spy. I imagine in that kind of medieval culture (which grounder culture is closest to), romantic love rarely results in fake alliances, or like.. messy war stuff. “Love is weakness.”, after all. Family love is the only important thing: and Echo’s got that figured out. Mushy romanctic love drama that weighs the tides in the big leagues?? I expect it doesn’t happen often. So she’s not trained in that. This explains why she doesn’t get it “as a spy”. Bc once it transcends “in love” and goes to “love”, it’s family, and again, that Echo gets. She knows how incredibly important Clarke is to Bellamy. She just doesn’t understand the nuance. And also: echo never reads people! She reads actions. Once Ryker was in she trusted him blindly, no suspicions, and once he showed he can’t be trusted fully, he was expendable, useless, a danger even. Eliminated. Echo’s never been anticipating people’s actions or intentions, she waits until they do something and then she assumes that’s what they are and continue to be until they prove her otherwise. Clarke leaves Bellamy behind and sides with the enemy? Clarke is a risk and must die. Clarke sacrifices it all to save Bellamy? Clarke is family. done.

So as to why she doesn’t get it as a person with eyes and a brain… which is also the second theory: she is extremely trusting. she’s the kind of person who’s incredibly straight forward with HER emotional relationships, there’s no ulterior motives. So she probably thinks of Bellamy as her boyfriend it’s as simple as that. Sure, his behaviour towards her has changed since they’ve been off the ring because she’s become more closed off, but it has nothing to do with Clarke because she’s like a sister to him, right?

Like… she feels secure in their relationship because the only thing she was insecure about beforehand was Octavia. She never suspected Clarke to be an issue, because she never knew about his feelings and their history- why? BECAUSE HE BASICALLY LIED TO HER. Why would E think that there have been more than friendshippy feelings? because I mean they’d been dating for a while and Clarke had been dead for a while before that and none of her family or Bellamy ever talked about anything “in love” related. (Even while Echo wasn’t in the picture romantically.) That’s very strange. Also Echo still treats Bellamy like her leader.. like she did Roan. And she doesn’t second guess or distrusts her “leaders”. And she’s also accepted Clarke as her leader. Clarke and Bellamy. Co leaders, like siblings. Of course they care about each other? Nothing strange going on at all.

Which brings me to my actual point: Bellamy isn’t a tiny bit mean. BELLAMY IS A TERRIBLE, LYING, EMOTIONALLY CHEATING BOYFRIEND WHO ABUSES ECHO’S BLIND TRUST. Dont get me wrong he’s still my favorite, and I get it… but oh boy does he need to step up his game!

Bellamy never told his gf about the girl he once loved, probably because even when dead he loved Clarke more than Echo, which sucks, so he couldn’t be open about it because it made him feel so guilty. Which.. he feels guilty ALL THE TIME. Dude is so pained. When he patted Echo’s back looking at Clarke, when he exploded at Clarke about how his family is all that matters to him bc he felt as though he betrayed them for Clarke, when he fiddled with Echo’s sword at the campfire in Season 5.. he hasn’t kissed Echo during a reunion since the beginning of S5.

When he snapped at Echo because he was jealous of the Doctor with Clarke, when she cried and opened up and he looked at her with pity in his eyes, and guilt, and this stupid sense of responsibility. When the only time he kissed her was out of said pity because she needed someone. When he had that look on his face in the rover reunion scene in season 5.

Bellamy is a fucking mess omg. He is constantly on edge, like he seems absolutely unhinged, strung out, confused, in love, in pain. He’s in control half the time and losing it the other half. “We kill them all.” A petty, spiteful, angry “Maybe you haven’t noticed, Clarke, but I don’t need you anymore” Then, screaming at her not to leave him, because nothing makes sense without her, he’s an empty shell without her, has been for 6 years. And you know who helped him?? ECHO. Echo, who’s a good person (as long as youre on her side..), who “was good for him”. Echo, who he doesn’t really love. But I think he wants to. I think this is where the bad boyfriend stuff comes from. He loves Clarke and is constantly torn between being super scared of that and losing himself in it, and then there’s Echo who’s loyal and nice and safe.

Lastly… I also expected a Becho breakup, but only in an A season bc B seasons are always so action loaded.. if that had happened, it would have gone “By the way let’s break up”, in between fighting and surviving and shit. Breaking someone’s heart sucks, and Bellamy owes Echo honesty and sincerity, so he put it off. And also… he probably doesn’t rly want to break up bc he wants to do right by her or whatever. His guilt is actually a factor I think as to why he HASNT broken up with her… he’s never loved Echo like she deserved to be loved, Clarke was always the one even when dead, so he feels like he owes a huge debt to Echo bc she loved HIM like HE deserved, and now he tries to repay her by living a lie. It’s twisted and stupid lol

But I know a breakup is coming. Because Echo deserves better than Bellamy. Bc he doesn’t love her, never has, never will. He has feelings for her.. but he doesn’t love her. I’m sorry. It’s obvious to even the most casual viewer, two of which have expressed their pity for E without me saying anything. And Bellamy, the damn main character, deserves a love story too.

Ps this shot through my head while writing this so I made a thing for mrs Echo the blind one lol:

#bellarke #the 100 #ask #answered #thanks:)#sorry this took like 8 years so answer...#sry also that ive been gone #ive got a lotta reasons #but i doubt anyone would rly care SO #lets just say im back #bitches #lol #<3 #ask me stuff im bellarke starved...

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five-wow · 5 years ago

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10.14!! i watched it!! here are some thoughts!! (actually a lot of thoughts because looking back it kind of got away from me in a big way, wow.)

i did NOT know the episode was going to cold open on eddie running straight into traffic and steve being a heroic idiot who manages to save both his dog and his own life more through sheer luck than any particular skill, but oh dear god, that was intense.

and then we have danny sitting in a bar somewhere and staring down a glass! looks like they’re both putting their morning to great use.

this woman who comes in and starts talking to danny? i love her. she is awesome. (i know she’s going to die based on the episode description, but for now, i’m choosing to ignore that and just enjoy her presence.)

ALSO the lady bartender who tells danny he should listen to the woman because she sounds like she knows what she’s talking about? i love her, too. she only gets to say maybe three sentences but i’m already mostly convinced that danny’s mystery woman should probably ditch him for this bartender lady. mystery woman is doing ALL the work here, and danny is just kind of present.

fjdkfdjk danny excusing himself for the phone call with “it’s a work thing” and then the VERY FIRST THING steve says is “relax, it’s not a work thing”. i’m laughing so hard, but also, that’s just ?? genuinely like they’re reading each other’s mind from opposite ends of the island, or wherever danny may currently be. (AND an immediate sign that danny’s excuse to pick up steve’s call in the middle of a conversation was not a good one, or true, for that matter. i wouldn’t necessarily call this a lie, but with danny’s track record when it comes to telling women he’s dating the truth, this is also not the greatest start of a relationship, maybe, omg.)

danny, just after a really awesome and super pretty woman approached him in a bar even though he’s got basically nothing going for him at the moment, offers to come home because eddie isn’t feeling well. and. i mean. it’s not that that’s not sweet or that it’s not a good offer to make because maybe steve needs emotional support even if eddie doesn’t, but it also really really sounds like danny is kind of hoping for a reason to fully excuse himself from his impromptu date.

also, fdjkf, danny teasing steve about the pretty vet lady is cute but confusing to me, because steve met her right before he spent upwards of a month stalking his mother in columbia and he can’t have been a great person to be dating right after that, either, so how is that relationship even still going? i just assumed that was a casualty of life getting in the way, but apparently this vet is either a very, very patient woman or almost creepily invested after just a single date, if she’s giving steve this much time to just randomly disappear on her.

AND THEN steve asks danny if he wants to join steve to grab a bite to eat and finally, finally! danny mentions that there might be someone waiting for him, and this is low key hilarious to me all over again because i’m sure it’s not really meant this way, but i’m reading this now as danny going “no! i totally am not looking for an excuse to get away, because i am having a great time!” while also feeling a need to reestablish his own dating prowess after steve’s last date was just mentioned and/or hoping to maybe make steve a little jealous for that same reason.

danny starts telling mystery woman how he’s deduced that she must be new to the island! i really like this, both because danny is finally contributing something to the flirting (he has a personality!) and because it makes such perfect sense for that to be something danny picks up on, considering his own history when it comes to integrating on hawaii.

danny: “[hawaii] grows on you.” yes, mystery woman! all you need is to find another woman you can have strong sexual tension with for a decade while raising two kids together, moving in a couple of times and getting mistaken for a couple regularly while also clinging to your heterosexuality like it’s a life raft even though you keep ignoring all your heterosexual partners, and you’ll feel right at home, just the way danny does!

WHOOP. they’re making out in the bathroom now. that escalated quickly, fjdkf.

they were giggling and moaning and talking loudly the entire time, but when danny tries to leave through the door mystery woman needs to check if the coast is clear first or they’ll get busted. oh, you guys. i think poor bartender lady already knows, as basically the only other person in this empty bar.

also: danny has a rental car?? from steve suggesting food i kind of assumed danny is still on the island and in the area, but apparently he couldn’t take either his own car or steve’s truck, because then it would get wrecked during the car crash that’s scheduled later on in this episode, i guess. good thinking, danny!

they have baseball and the east coast in common! that’s cute! (though i also can’t help but be reminded of melissa, who was from new york, and feel like this woman is turning into melissa 2.0, gosh. this first meeting is better so far, though! danny is not creepily car stalking a much younger woman he only met for two minutes at a gas station - well done, danny.)

they have a Moment and then someone coming towards them on the road is being an idiot and danny swerves and the car FLIPS and i don’t think danny is getting his deposit on this rental back.

the pretty doctor is making a house call for steve and steve is too anxious about eddie to even think about the fact that this should probably be a little awkward somehow, oh my gosh. he just rambles ahead about eddie’s problem, like a good dad.

danny and mystery woman are both looking very banged up and bloody, but mystery woman has part of the license plate number of the car that nearly hit them and tells danny to give it to the police so nobody else will get hurt! she continues to be awesome.

fdjfkdjkfdj, so steve gets an answer about eddie (he’s showing signs of post-traumatic stress) and he and the doctor have a serious conversation about that and then he walks her to the door and THEN he goes “emma, before you leave, i feel like i should probably bring up the, uh-” and she fills in “how you never called me back”. oh my GOD, steve. he went on a date with this woman, never called her again (somewhat understandably from his side, but still) and then DID call her, but to ask her to come make a house call because his dog is acting weird, and she granted him this favor and acted like not just a professional but a really kind one. WHY do these disaster men get paired with these perfect women, fjdk.

steve!! tells her!! he has issues balancing work and personal life!! and it honestly isn’t that much because it’s missing huge chunks of what really went down, but oh boy, this is already A Lot and i’m surprised we’re getting this much and i’m proud of him!!

she’s seeing someone! she tells him no hard feelings! she tells him she believes him when he says it’s not about her but about his problems! GROWN UP RELATIONSHIP TALK. i mean, there was never much of a relationship here to start with perhaps, but STILL, i love this. very good. A+.

steve’s face after she leaves though, oh my gosh. he seems a little shellshocked that he actually just had that conversation, maybe a little disappointed in himself that he let things happen this way.

lou is at will’s college for parents weekend! and there is talk of decorating will’s dorm room, which is cool, but also confuses me a little bit because i’m assuming will’s been living in that room for many months by now.

wait, okay, i’m more confused: lou is calling about eddie because tani texted him that eddie wasn’t feeling well, which is cool! family keeping family in the loop! except then steve says that the vet just left and said it might be pts, and then lou suddenly says he knows someone whose expertise is in military working dogs, and he already reached out to him and that’s the part where i go ? because how did lou already know it would be pts, or anything of the sort? what was this specialist supposed to do if the vet had just diagnosed eddie with some regular dog disease?

i was so caught up in the euphoria of steve attempting to communicate emotions and the whole ohana pulling together to help eddie that i almost forgot about the car crash, oh shit. danny of course can’t get cell service, because these things always happen in the middle of nowhere in fiction, because it would have been too easy if he could have just called an ambulance.

the new vet super clearly telling steve that this is in no way his fault and that he shouldn’t feel wrecked with guilt over eddie’s pain is !! very good!!! this episode is about eddie’s pts, but steve’s getting to work through some issues too, here, wow.

steve calls tani on the way back home with eddie and tani is just randomly in a car with quinn?? i love it. it’s super unclear to me if they’re working today or if they’re just hanging out in a car, plus quinn doesn’t say a single word in this entire scene, but i love that she’s there, regardless.

OOF. mystery woman has been impaled on some thing that stuck through the back of her car seat, and yes, that’s definitely some great drama and not something i saw coming, but also. oh my god. i don’t think that should be a thing that happens if you’re in a crash that left the car pretty well intact overall, so who the hell designed a car that sometimes sticks something metal through the passenger seat if it rolls?

mystery woman: “just tell me. just don’t lie to me, please don’t lie to me now.” OKAY a) this is very brave of her and i still love her a lot, b) PLEASE DON’T LIE TO ME is a very loaded thing to hear one of danny’s love interests tell him to his face because of danny’s aforementioned penchant for lying to them. this is a very different situation and he was just trying to keep her calm, but still.

“it’s a little bad” is both objectively the truth (well done, danny, proud of you too this episode) and a hilarious way to describe the situation. unintentionally hilarious, for sure, but hilarious.

the guy tani and quinn talk to at the base is really helpful and nice! “i hope the warrior is better soon”, aww.

tani, reporting on eddie to quinn: “mcgarrett was trying to settle him for a nap. he did lap up some of the water from the bowl that i brought though, so that’s good.” quinn, with absolutely no change in expression: “huh, that’s weird. did you tell him the water was for eddie.” i am. i am giggling so much. this is exactly my kind of humor and it was perfectly timed to release the pent-up tension from everything that is happening, thank you, quinn.

tani and quinn have a talk about tani’s worry about junior and HOW is this episode suddenly so filled with absolutely awesome moments for female characters, i am flabbergasted. i mean, really really happy because i love the mystery woman and the vet was perfect and now we’re getting some beautiful tani & quinn interaction while they’re helping steve out, but this was not what i expected to find in this episode.

everybody wants to help eddie and it’s making me cry, ahhh.

AHA. danny and mystery woman talk about rachel!! danny says they’ve been “sorta trying to work it out for the last year or so” and then that “we’re better of as friends” and on the one hand i’m REALLY GLAD we’re getting some kind of word on this, because it was odd enough as was but now that danny seemed to be open to dating someone else it was even more necessary to know he’s not still dating rachel too, but on the other hand i’m kind of sad it’s second-hand? i’d have liked an episode with rachel actually in it to work this out.

ohhhh god. danny hears a car so he wants to go up to the road to stop it, but mystery woman tells him to stay, but he goes anyway, so wanna bet that when he gets back after he probably doesn’t even manage to stop the car, mystery woman is dead? eep.

oh! that went a lot quicker than expected and mystery woman is in fact still blinking when danny approaches the crashed car again, so she is not dead yet! good news! now danny gets to watch her die, hooray!

tani and quinn walk onto steve’s beach and that’s such an odd sight but also a really nice one!

ohhh, they were headed for the neighbor. and then they say hi and introduce themselves as people who work with steve and this woman immediately starts rambling about the biodiversity of hawaii, no holds barred and with the hugest smile about it, and here we have ANOTHER woman i immediately love with all my heart, holy shit.

i was a little afraid that they might have to fight the lovely neighbor to get the plant that triggered eddie’s pts removed, but they DON’T, they really really don’t have to fight her because she immediately gets it and says she’ll get rid of the plant in question and that makes me very happy on so many levels.

danny manages to stop a truck!!! and this guy asks zero questions about all the blood on danny’s clothes, but i guess that’s a good thing at this point.

!!! eddie and steve are cuddling on the couch and quinn goes “aww, look at you two. love is real.” and YES. i RELATE.

okay, everything about this scene is perfect, actually, because tani jumps in to agree with quinn and then quinn says the chasing somebody to the airport like they do in romcoms is a little psycho, and that really doesn’t absolve the h50 writers of slightly psycho things they’ve done when it comes to romantic relationships but i like the burn anyway, ha.

STEVE OPENS UP TO QUINN AND TANI about relating to eddie’s panic and feelings of being lost and he’s basically saying “yeah, i know what pts is like” and i just. i am full of emotions. thank you, whoever wrote this.

oh gOD though, tani asks steve how danny is and steve says “i spoke to him this morning, he is good” and that’s obviously a painful moment to be saying that seeing as we, as the audience, know how danny is actually doing at that moment.

and then there’s a knock at the door and quinn says “maybe that’s him now” and steve gets up as he says “not unless he forgot his key” and i SCREAM. it makes total sense that danny would have a key, and doubly so because he’s literally been living at steve’s for months, but they WAY they just casually had him throw that out there is QUITE SOMETHING.

oh danggg, it’s adam.

huh. steve welcomes him home and hugs him and i’m a little confused because wasn’t there still a criminal investigation pending for adam’s actions? did that get resolved? wasn’t steve still a little mad at him and completely unsure what was happening?

ah, we get a somewhat dramatic zoom on steve’s face that tells us that steve definitely still has questions.

so danny climbs back down to the crashed car after calling for help and he tells mystery woman that his name is danny and THEN she dies, right before she can tell him her name. at this point i’ve been expecting it for ages and it’s not exactly a shock, but jfc, they definitely managed to pick a very traumatic moment for this to happen.

danny just... gets back up to the road and starts walking away as the ambulances arrive and that’s a nice and symbolic end but also, uh, some poor emt is going to have to jog after him and try to wrestle him into an ambulance to get himself checked out. danny. danny, come back.

in the end, i !!! REALLY LOVED this episode. i didn’t expect to, because i was pretty sure mystery woman would die and i wasn’t into the idea of introducing a love interest for danny and then killing her off. truth be told, i’m still not into that and i hate that she had to die to give danny a painful episode (and that we still don’t know her name, which i get from the storytelling perspective because it adds a layer of pain but it also feels kind of bad from a please-respect-women perspective that she’s quite literally nameless), BUT at least i really really loved her character, which is honestly already more than i thought would happen, and THEN there was the other plot this episode!! the one with steve working through trauma and eddie getting help from everyone and tani and quinn being awesome and us getting to meet one of steve’s neighbors for the first time and her turning out to be an adorable plant nerd, and all of that, i adored it. i know danny’s car crash was supposed to be the center of this episode, but for me it kind of got swept aside by my elation over what was happening in steve’s house, and all the really awesome women this episode threw at us, holy shit.

#h50 #10.14 #i did not expect to be this excited after watching this episode but I AM #*#h50 spoilers

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