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#you know. i think i genuinely have one (1) week where my health is normal
Not gonna lie Frank is looking mighty dad shaped at the moment like I know Peter would not allow Frank to be his uncle because that title belongs only to Ben but rereading the kintsugi the part which Frank tells Peter to call him Pete and Peter thinking people will make assumptions of Frank being his father got to me.
Frank is absolutely becoming an important figure in peters life. I think I would respectfully disagree with any like, genuine attempts to analogue him with peters father though.
Spoilers for punisher seasons 1 + 2 below.
As a like, disclaimer, I’m soooo aware that being a dad is more of a meme in fandom than genuine attempts to say someone is the functional father of someone, but also it does crop up in genuine contexts too, and I don’t know if you mean in more of the general like, vibes sense or in a more literal “Frank is becoming his father as an actual relationship development” kind of way. I built my brand on taking things way too seriously however, so I’m gonna like, delve into this as if it were.
Frank is the most stable adult influence in Peter’s life right now, and I’m going to somewhat include May in that. That’s not because May is somehow failing to be a stable adult for Peter, but more because Peter has purposefully cut her out from access to parts of his life in a misguided attempt to protect the last family he has left to him. And that’s a decision that has pretty severe consequences for Peter’s mental health.
The decision to sort of phase May out of full involvement in Peter’s life predated Spider-Man; however, Spider-Man turned this from a sort of gradual decrease of information he shared to an extremely abrupt stop. We know that, for whatever reason, Peter did not tell May or Ben when he first got his powers. If it was physically painful or even just noticeable, he did not tell them about the probable medical emergency, but even if we just assume he went to bed normal and woke up with abs, he did not walk into the kitchen the next morning and announce he could stick to walls now. Ideally speaking, kids should be going to their parents about that kind of shit. Peter didn’t. So we know something’s just not exactly right with Peter’s relationship with May and Ben.
Usually, that’d be a bit of a red flag with abuse. Frank actually had a moment where he suspected as much, and Peter flipped his shit on him, so he knows it's not that. But whatever the cause, Peter's been without an adult influence to rely on for a while.
And, psychologically speaking, that's fucked him up pretty thoroughly. Peter's been taking on stresses that are way worse than most adults ever face, and he's been doing it without having the support that kids really need. That's compounded by the fact that he's still reeling from one of the biggest pillars of support in his life, Ben, just got ripped out entirely.
Frank's relationship with peter has developed on an incredibly quick timeline because he's been able to occupy that empty space that parents usually are meant to be in. In that respect, he's acting in a lot of the ways a dad is supposed to, by being that sort of adult figure Peter can go to as a reliable source of support. Peters finally buckling under the pressure now that he finally has someone who can help take some of it off of him, which quickens the development of their relationship.
But at the end of the day, that does not change the fact that it’s only been two weeks. Peter hated him for the first week of it. They’re very much in the infancy of their relationship, so like, genuine fatherhood is a good long way off.
I’m a big believer in the fact that there’s no substitute for time in relationship develop. That’s not to say that relationships can’t develop on different timelines, but there’s a very practical reality that figuring out the boundaries and dynamic of a relationship is something that develops over multiple interactions and needs time to do. Peter and Frank are still at the stage where Peter’s struggling to figure out if he can ethically have Frank in his life and Frank is struggling to figure out how to be in Peter’s life when his objective goal is still to get peter to stop being spider-man. They need a lot of time still to figure out who they are to each other.
The other thing about time in a relationship is that it’s really going to be the thing to build trust. Trust isn’t exclusively built by time, but it’s still important. Frank and Peter have started to build some trust between them, but it’s still young. Frank, specifically, only got peter to start to trust him when he helped out with the Calloways. Peter only started building trust that same night when Frank started to understand why Peter did what he did.
When you’re in someone’s life, especially to the degree that a father and son would be, then you’re going to get into conflict with them. You’re going to disagree, fight, cross boundaries. Or you’re going to need to be vulnerable to someone, and you have to decide if they’re a safe person to do so with.
Time where you can build up a consistent basis of trust and understanding is what helps you weather that. There’s going to be fuck ups. That’s part of being human. If you have spent a long time developing a relationship, people are going to have a better time grappling with those fuck ups, figuring out how to navigate it, and then moving towards forgiveness. If you really trust someone, then there’s more stability and reliability to fall back on when they do something that hurts you. If you haven’t had that time? Then it risks destroying the relationship entirely.
We’re still seeing that develop with Frank and Peter. We have yet to see if they can even last, let alone make it to father/son.
I don't want to say that I have compunctions with how fandom treats relationships, because that is suggestive of like, a higher degree of dislike than I actually have. It's just not my style. A lot of fanfiction or fanon has people going from 0 to 100 really really fast. You go from just having met to being the most important and trusted people in each other's lives in a few days. You're madly in love in the span of a few interactions. Characters hand out trust that isn't really earned yet and act more comfortably with people than they objectively should. With Peter especially, you have him like, calling people 'Dad' or being like, really comfortable accepting physical affection from them almost immediately or he's like, really quick to seek comfort and support from whatever adult is around. It just all happens on a weirdly fast timeline.
And I want to be clear--there's nothing wrong with liking to write that or read that. It's fanfiction. We're all doing this shit for free, and sometimes you want to get to the found family part everyone's showed up for without trudging through 100k words of boundary negotiations and relationship development.
It's just not how i like to write? I'm a slow burn person. I need a bunch of build up or i'm not satisfied in the pay off. toy rosaries is 45k words and counting because i wanted to write one fucking scene. i'm holding myself hostage. I could not bring myself to write frank and peter as father/son on this timeline even if i wanted to.
They also have the added hurdle of their own trauma around parents and children.
With Frank, it's pretty obvious--he loves kids, it's undeniable. He was great with Zach and Leo, would die for Amy, and even had a cute moment with Rex in the diner. He gets attached to his kids, acts parental with them, and would straight up die for them. Peter's well in that same territory now.
I think we still have to ask if he would be able to be an explicit father/son relationship given his lasting trauma around his own kids.
It could go either way, honestly--it would depend on how someone wanted to take their relationship development. The thing is, Frank wants to be a dad--but he wants to be his kids' dad. The debilitating loss he feels from his children's death is absolutely central to his character--and it's pretty clear he's not even close to getting over it. First off, he's living like a fucking goblin in the seedy underbelly of new york. that's not an emotionally healthy decision. But secondly, he's established time and time again that he's not ready to really heal from his family's death. He picked the Punisher over going with his family when he went up against Agent Orange. Season 2 opens with Frank's revenge complete, experiencing that great, peaceful family dynamic with Beth and Rex--and then he's killing a room full of people by the end of the episode. Undeniably, he loved Amy--but he still sends her off to live in Florida with someone else. He could have gone with her. He had finished his newest war entirely. There wasn't any immediate danger of staying with her. He could have asked her if she'd like to set up shop somewhere new, with him, new names, new pasts, new lives, as father/daughter. Instead, he ships her off and fully becomes the Punisher.
The Punisher is a part of Frank, and it's not exclusively a product of what happened to his family. But it's impossible to remove his grief from who the Punisher is. Being a dad means putting the kid first, picking the kid first, and it's not really clear what would win if it really came down to being a stable influence for Peter and giving up his war or staying with his mantle.
It's particularly difficult when you consider the parallels between Peter and his son. Frank didn't really have regrets around Lisa, save that she died and that he did not read the book to her the night before. He didn't visibly regret the state of his relationship with her when she passed--in fact, most of how he talks about her suggests their bond was incredibly close.
His son, though, is almost exclusively shown in canon to be in conflict with Frank, and it's something that Frank displays visible regret over. He seems to constantly wish he could have been a better father to Frank Jr.
Peter, like Frank Jr, spends a lot of time in conflict with Frank. They don't see eye to eye. They bump heads. Peter disobeys him every chance he gets. And Frank's really, really trying not to repeat old mistakes, but it still begs the question whether he could bring himself to be the kind of father to Peter that he never could be to Frank Jr. How would that feel? Would it feel like a betrayal of Frankie? Would he be haunted by the fact that he couldn't be like this with his own son? It'd be a long, painful road to figure that out.
Is it possible that Frank could be someone's father again? I think so. But he needs to do a lot of healing that he's just not done yet.
Peter, likewise, is in a state where he'd need an enormous amount of healing to have another father.
I think with Ben particularly we need to distinguish from Dad as a title and Dad as a role. Peter Parker, whatever universe he's in, does not call Ben "Dad." He calls him uncle--but calling someone "uncle" does not dispositively indicate that that's the role they fill for you.
And there's no real definitive right answer as to what Peter considered Ben to be. Life is messy. Peter's relationship with Ben and his father is honestly fascinating. Peter went to live with Ben at a young age--but not so young that he didn't have defined roles of "Mom" and "Dad" already filled. He never tried to call Ben and May mom and dad. But it's indisputable that the larger influences on his life were May and Ben. He's spent more time with may and ben than he ever did his parents. It's their moral code that defines his character. By every functional sense of the word, Ben and May Parker are his acting parents, but they never cross into parenthood by title.
If you lean into the comic book death of the Parkers, it's especially interesting when you take in Ben's likely confused feelings on this. His brother died in the most obvious cover-up known to man. They were murdered, their plane was sabotaged, and Ben can't do anything about that except raise his brother's son. His brother won't get the chance to be Peter's father throughout his life. He won't get to be there for Peter's graduation, birthdays, wedding--all those things Ben thought he'd live to see. Richard's death is this horrible source of constant, aching injustice, and instead of getting that justice for him, Ben gets what Richard should have gotten to experience--would he have felt guilty taking the title of Dad too? At the end of his life, did he regret never telling Peter that he was his son?
Does Peter regret never telling Ben that he was his father?
Ben is meant to be this horrible, aching space in the narrative. The death was recent and the pain is fresh. Peter lost someone who was one of the biggest if not the biggest influences in his life. Could he want another father figure one day? Honestly, I have no idea. He's already lost two. But he definitely would not be ready right now. If you offered him a new father figure right now, he'd say he doesn't want them--he wants his uncle, and that's the person he simply cannot have.
This isn't to diminish Frank and Peter's relationship--it's just that it's very messy, fresh, and has a lot of space to grow. Are they important to each other? Absolutely. Is Frank Peter's father right now? No, and they both would need a lot of character development and healing if they were ever to get to that point.
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doctorguilty · 6 months
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Baddddd bad bad bad very sad
My head hurts, the pressure makes me feel like it's being squeezed and crushed by rubber bands ... from sinus inflammation and dehydration and not eating probably isn't helping
I feel like I want to cry again but I'm trying to stop myself so I won't make the pain even worse
This is only, what, a week into dst? Not even winter yet.. Seasonal affective disorder is going in for the kill this year I guess. I don't know what im going to do because I'm so tired, physically and mentally and just tired of my life, there's no fight in me left. And no one will or can help me. I'm my family's least favorite and so i get the least help, doctors won't take my health seriously, my partner needs more time, possibly more than a year, before moving in with me with me somewhere. I can't afford to live on my own. I barely have energy to keep collecting scraps of money to show as income so I can continue getting food assistance.
I had a spark of hope for a while but it feels like it was a mistake to let myself have it. How much longer can I lie to myself and say "one more year until it gets better"? I mean, I can't. That illusion is broken. So what can I tell myself? It truly feels like there's nothing. Things keep getting worse. I tried so hard, I really did. I'm exhausted. Truly utterly exhausted.
Unless anyone out there (just like, the world not @-ing Tumblr dot com) has a spare 20 grand or something they'd just hand to me to live off for "one more year" (and then some) and detox from my miserable quality of life, surviving it barely even sounds appealing knowing that my physical and mental health I'll be another year WORSE than where it is now. And even then. There's not guarantee it ends there :''') its an estimate, an "if I'm lucky" estimate and it's not even considerably lucky to be in this position.
I genuinely don't know how I'm gonna keep living like everything is fine and normal while I continue losing steam to make money, make art, care for myself (I'm already down to roughly 2 showers a week and at best 1 real meal a day because I'm so tired), to keep filling out paperwork begging for assistance (I think I'm already overdue for my food stamp update), and watching other people in my family just be handed endless help while I'm patronized with "have you considered painting Christmas ornaments for a living" and interrogated about the validity of my disabilities (which I always fail to prove good enough)
Almost everyone around me is happier than me. Almost everyone else's life is on track and I'm at best simply left behind, and at worst I was someone they stepped on to get what they needed before tossing me to the side.
My life is not only painful and exhausting but humiliating. I don't feel like a person. I don't feel important. I feel like if i did die out of the blue, nobody would say they regret helping me more like people usually say, they'd just talk about how I should have done xyz better and it's my own fault (not a s*icide threat just being hypothetical like literally if i died for any random reason)
Most of everything that's happened in my life, I feel, has validated my chronic sense of worthlessness. Everyone says I'm not but prove it. Someone prove it. Someone put me first. Sacrifice something for me (and not complain what a burden I am on them!). For once. If I wasn't worthless, well, I'd be worth it, without strings attached.
It won't happen. It never happens. I have to dance like a fucking circus animal for people and then beg on my knees I'm entertaining enough to keep alive so I can do it over and over again
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alright so im actually being sappy for once
you guys remember a couple days ago when i said there was stuff doing on i wasn't ready to talk about (which is genuinely concerning honestly because i overshare way too much, so any time i dont talk about something thats when people should be concerned lmao)?
yeah well. here we go. this is gonna be a really deep post and honestly im nervous so im just gonna jump right into it
TW: Eating disorders, general self hate, delusions(?), paranoia, very long post
so, i ended up in the hospital middle of april. i had been having some mental health episodes where i pretty much mostly believed that i was in a simulation, and the only way to get out was to die. this made me end up in the emergency room, but i was let out that night (literally 1 in the morning), as i was too terrified to go back into a mental hospital (i have had very traumatic experiences with hospitals - the first one i ever went to actually just got shut down due to patient right violations).
a day went by and i was in sort of a hazey depressive state. i really don't know how to describe it, i just didnt feel like me. the day after that i decide to go out for a drive as i hadn't been out of the house for three days because i was staying home from school so my parents could make sure i was safe (this happens a lot so it wasn't shocking). so, i went out for a drive. i felt fairly okay when i left, but somehow i ended up back in an episode and i found myself driving in complete silence for hours trying to "find a way out" of the "simulation" i thought i was in. i never found it. shocker.
that episode slowly turned into paranoia, which i've only really started struggling with recently (i've had the delusional-type episodes for years now, but they've never been this bad). i'll leave out some details as it does get to the point where i honestly don't want to put that information online, but somehow i ended up parking at my favorite park and just staring at nothing. for three hours. my family was trying to contact me, but i thought they were going to hurt me, so i didn't text back. eventually they found me, and they convinced me to let them take me to the hospital. again.
this time i didn't really go back to normal as fast as i did before, and my parents were afraid that if i went home something else would happen. so i was put into another mental hospital. this was my 4th time in a mental hospital, and literally all of my other experiences with them were horrible, so needless to say i was fucking terrified. turns out, they were actually really good! the staff were nice and the place actually looked pretty good. i was let out about a week later.
now you would think i would start getting better after i got out. i wish.
i mean, technically i was doing better in the delusional-paranoid aspect of things, but something just didn't feel right. i just felt off. two days later, my mom mentions something about some levels in my blood being off and that it can be caused by not exercising and that just flipped a switch in me. literally the instant she said that i just went down a very dark hole (not blaming my mom at all, she didn't do this on purpose).
see, i already didn't have a very healthy relationship with my body or food, seeing as i literally had just recovered from ARFID a couple months ago, but on top of that there was this whole other layer of thoughts that i hadn't told anyone, literally ever. since 2018 i've suffered with feeling guilty from eating, i genuinely felt like i didn't deserve the food i got and i didn't like the way i looked. i was very skinny at the time due to ARFID struggles, and people really liked to comment on how tiny i was.
once i started gaining weight when i recovered from ARFID, the thoughts of hating my body and the guilt from eating just got so much worse. there was a time where i actually went to great measures which i will not name just because i wanted to be skinny again. and i didn't really know why i wanted to be so skinny, because i knew that being fat wasn't a bad thing, fat people are beautiful. i just had this thought in my head that i was literally hideous and ugly and the only way to make myself pretty was to be skinny, even though i thought everyone else regardless of weight or shape was perfect.
i was doing fine for a while, but then my mom told me about that blood level thing and it all came crashing down. i literally would run for two hours straight every single day for a week, to the point where i physically can't walk down stairs because my legs hurt so bad, and i have shin splints. i stopped eating, i only really ate when i had to.
after a little over a week of this, i caved and finally told my closest friends about what was going on. they were there to support me, but i knew that there was only so much they could do.
since then, i've just struggled immensely with body image and food. like, immensely. it's literally all i can think about all day every day.
but, last saturday i decided that no matter what, no matter how many times i fell down and struggled to eat, i would try again, try to take another bite, and try to heal my relationship with food and my body.
so, yeah. im sorry for the book, but i genuinely want to be open about mental health online (at least when no one knows who i really am lmao). i want people to know they're not alone, and i want people who aren't suffering with these problems to know about them.
anyway. that's what i've been going through recently. i may not be posting much, if at all, honestly, for the next while. but i know that eventually i will overcome this, i just have to keep getting back up every time i fall.
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hazzasultimatekiwi · 11 months
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who’s your celebrity crush?
name a dogwhat unusual talent do you have?
what’s your coffee order?
if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?
how long before a trip do you pack?
describe your aesthetic
1- i dont think i have one??? i definitely have people who i’m attracted to who are famous but normally i don’t start to like someone without knowing them a little at first… i don’t normally feel full genuine connection with celebrities enough to have that yk
2- y’all i have like not cool talents… like i have some pretty ordinary stuff i’m sorta ok at? like i am rly good at aerial yoga but nothing like CRAZY
3- i rarely drink coffee— like ever— cause it makes me sleepy (love adhd for that) soo i normally have an iced chai instead
4- i’d get the quote “drive fast, take risks, don’t die” for my favorite teacher in high school on the back of my bicep
5- as close to leaving as possible 😭 my family used to go on 4-6 week road trips and i’d be packing the morning of
6- chaotic, carefree, colorful (most of the time), comfortable, femme, outdoorsy- ish (cause mental health takes that away sometimes)
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chxxlzea · 1 year
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PANDEMIC: Teenager's Different Interest
written by: Chelsea Margarette Pillas
When we hear the word "pandemic," we can all certainly identify that it refers to the event that occurred two years ago and had a negative impact on everyone's life.This may have included financial instability, the loss of a loved one, depression, health issues, and an unproductive day due to the fact that we were all forced to stay inside our homes and do nothing but sit and witness how the COVID-19 Pandemic changed our world. Since the Pandemic is not the only calamity that has occurred, the year 2020 has been very difficult for everyone, but especially for those at the bottom of our society who lack the privileges that could have given them a better lifestyle.
The Pandemic may have had many terrible effects, but for me as a student and a teenager, there were some positive things that occurred. When I'm at home alone and have nothing to do, I explore different interests, including working out regularly, having a productive day, learning how to cook, being connected to a distant family, loving dogs, learning to dance due to Tiktok, and having more self-confidence. And seeing that I'm capable of accomplishing various things like that makes me proud of myself since I didn't realize I could do it. Even more so, it makes me happier since I could take too much time trying to figure things out on my own.
But let's start with me finding the time to exercise regularly. It all began when I saw trending workouts on Facebook and Tiktok claiming that the "Chloe Ting" workout is really effective since you can see results after 2 weeks. Since I had nothing else to do, I didn't hesitate to try it, and as it turned out, I became addicted to exercising because I typically eat slices of bread and 1 cup of rice for the rest of the day. I recall that I was 53 kilograms then and after a month, I was shocked to see that I had achieved 44 kg. My parents noticed this and suggested that I stop since I look bad for being petite. I resumed eating after taking a month off from exercising, and some people claimed that I had put on weight. However, when I was 44 kg, they advised me to eat more, which infuriated me because they have such twisted viewpoints on everything. However, now that I am back to my normal weight and size, I don't mind them and I simply say, "You all can bully how my body looks, but never on how my face looks," lol.
The second is that I've been learning how to cook because, as far as I can remember, the only things I've ever cooked were eggs and pancit canton. However, when the pandemic hit, I suddenly became the family chef and began learning how to make dishes like adobo, menudo, sinigang, afritada, and many others. I've also experimented with new foods and found that they turn out to be delicious. It is quite comforting to know that the girl who was terrified of making pancit canton since she believed it would explode when placed over boiling water has developed into a capable cook.
Furthermore, me being close to my distant family which is my parent and sister, Growing up without them by your side can be difficult because you don't spend much time together and don't know much about each other, but when the pandemic began, my parents came to my grandmother's house where I was raised and stayed there the entire pandemic. The first two weeks were genuinely uncomfortable, but eventually, we all got along and even had boodle in the mornings, watched movies, and have snacks together. They say that having a solid connection and foundation with your family is what actually makes your life happy and has more purpose, and I think that having that in your life is the best thing you can have. All of the activities we engage in during the pandemic are genuinely joyful, and I will cherish them for the rest of my life.
The most wonderful and remarkable thing that occurred was when I started to love dogs. Prior to the epidemic, I had never been a big fan of dogs, but once it struck, I developed an affection for them. Let me introduce you to my first dog, Spark. Spark is a very cute and playful dog, and I've even learned how to train, feed, and bathe him once a week. We even play with balls every day because he loves it, but all of a sudden, he started to lose strength and developed several diseases that ultimately caused his death. It saddens my feelings that I wasn't around him when he passed away in April of this year due to that I was here in Cabuyao, and it was the day after his second birthday.
The second is Yumi, my dog, who is now two years old and was given to me by my boyfriend on my 16th birthday because he knows how much I love dogs. Yumi is playful and kinda weird at times because she does things that not all dogs do, but she is also my playmate and, in a sense, my long-lost baby because, in our home, we treat her like a child by spoiling her with things that she likes to play about. How is having a best buddy with four legs and paws realistic? When you have a lot on your mind, they literally help you relax since having them around makes life more enjoyable. Even though they are unable to talk, you can tell how thankful and attached they are to us.
Next, I discovered that I could dance without feeling embarrassed thanks to Tiktok. As we all know, Tiktok played a significant role during the pandemic, serving as entertainment for everyone who felt bored and had nothing to do inside their homes. Tiktok helped me realize that you can overcome your fears and even showcase your talent, just like how I discovered that I could dance without feeling embarrassed. I know that I am not a dancer, but it provided me with knowledge on how to do so.
And finally, I feel more confident in myself because of the pandemic, which gave us access to a variety of new things, including clothing, styles, and information that a student like me would never have had access to. At that time, clothing enhanced everyone's beauty and gave us the confidence to wear it and take risks because we shouldn't worry about what other people thought of us. As a result, I can now say that I feel more comfortable wearing new things and trying different things.
In conclusion, the pandemic has both positive and negative effects on everyone, but we shouldn't invalidate anyone's experiences because everyone has a unique life story. I recognize that the pandemic has caused many changes that we are not familiar with, but as responsible citizens, we must acknowledge that there are some situations beyond our control.
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axoxtxhxh · 3 years
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Pairing: Sub!Goshiki x DomFem! Chubby!Reader Part 1 Summary: You met your good friend Goshiki at work one day, having similar interests in books. When you start developing feelings for him, things get difficult. Especially when he asks a special favor. Content: Body image issues
A/N: Thank you for following along! We’re now on our fourth week of stories! Both virginity loss stories are three parts. The second part will release on Wednesday and the third part on Friday. Be sure to check out @millenialfanfictionaddiction​s story Oikawa’s Oasis! You can reach it through the Please Me Series Masterlist. Feedback is appreciated!
This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. It wasn’t like you had your whole life planned out, in fact, it was quite the opposite. You didn’t know what you were doing half the time and you had reached a point in your life where you were kind of okay with that. While there were good things you tried to bring into your life, there was an even longer list of bad things you tried to keep out.
After hitting your late twenties, you decided it was important to take care of yourself. Getting rid of toxic friendships and focusing on your mental and physical health became your priority. You were doing a great job, as much as the rolls on your stomach and all over chubby look you had attested against it.
One of the other things you decided to finally pursue was your dream of being a romance novelist. You quit your nine-to-five day job that you hated and started working at your favorite bookstore in town while your nights were spent writing. The support you had from your friends at the bookstore was way more than you could ever have imagined. Even your boss loved hearing about your story ideas.
“You look tired.” Your boss, Dylan, joked as you walked into the breakroom, ready to start your shift.
“I was up late last night writing.” You hung up your jacket in your locker. “I could really use some… cof…fee.”
Your eyes lit up as you saw the full cup of coffee in your boss’s hand, extended to you. It was from your favorite shop down the street.
“How did you know I wanted coffee? Are you even real?” You took the cup and gulped down half of it.
“You forget, I’m your beta reader.” He laughed. “When you’re up writing, I’m up reading. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thank you!” You held the cup up to him, then took another big gulp.
“You get another tattoo?” He asked, eyeing your arm as you closed your locker. You looked down at your arm and smiled.
“Yep. Trying to finish up this sleeve.”
“I have a question.” He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting in his lap. “Why don’t you ever write with characters that look like you?”
“People like me don’t get to have romances like those in the books.” You shrugged and headed out to the floor.
The morning mid-shift was always your favorite. As much as you hated getting up early, the bookstore was at its quietest then and you could relax with your coworkers. You spotted your favorite co-worker manning the help desk and focusing on something on the other side of the bookstore.
“What are you looking at?”
“Shh…” They put their fingers to their lips. “I don’t want him to know I see him.”
“See who? What are you talking about?” You whispered, trying not to expose yourselves even though you still didn’t know what you were looking at.
“That guy.” They pointed and your eyes followed the direction of their finger to see a tall figure in the magazine section, his hood up, mask on and wearing sunglasses. You could see black bangs peeking out under the hood.
“So why don’t you want him to know you see him?”
“In case he’s stealing.” They whisper-yelled and you laughed.
“I’ll just go talk to him.” You stood up straight and made your way over. He looked a little less shady up close because you could see that he was lost in his reading and didn’t even really notice you being there.
When you first walked up, you saw him reading one of the car magazines from the shelf, but now that you were closer, you could see he had a book inside the magazine and was reading the book.
“You know, normally people put the magazine in the book, not the other way around.” You leaned closer to him and he jumped back, shrieking as he dropped the magazine and the book. He backed away from you and if he didn’t have his entire face covered with a mask and sunglasses, you could only imagine his eyes wide and his mouth open.
The magazine was all bent on the ground and you leaned over to pick it up along with the book. You could only imagine what he was reading that he had it hidden in a car magazine. Putting the magazine back on the shelf, you looked at the cover of the book. Romance?
“Were you reading this?” You held the book up to him with a smile.
“No.” He shook his head back and forth anxiously.
“Then why is it here?”
“It fell.”
“From where?” You questioned.
“Alright fine, I was reading it.”
He dropped his head low and you gasped sarcastically, your hand to your chest. “No! Really? I would never have guessed.”
“Very funny.” You laughed, looking back down at the book.
“So why are you hiding then? Or did you not notice there’s only like two other people shopping.” You gestured to the rest of the store. “Or maybe you couldn’t see well with those incredibly dark sunglasses.”
“That’s not it.” He pulled off the sunglasses and mask, dropping the hood to his sweatshirt as he looked around the store nervously. “I just don’t want anyone to know I’m reading it.”
“What’s wrong with it?” You looked at the book. It was one of your favorites. “This is a great book.”
His eyes widened as he quickly looked back to you. “You like romance novels?”
“I love them. I’m trying to write one actually. This one has given me a lot of inspiration for my current story.”
“That’s so cool.” He smiled, looking really amazed, you weren’t sure by what though.
“So, let me get this straight.” You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “You come in here to secretly read these romance novels because you don’t want people to know you’re reading them?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you just buy it and read it at home?”
“I have a roommate and I don’t want him to know.”
“You could go to the library.”
“They don’t have the ones I like and they don’t release as quickly as you guys do.”
“How long have you been doing this?” His mouth opened and he turned away, looking nervous by the question so you changed the subject. “Never mind. Honestly, as long as you’re not stealing or planning to steal, you can read however you’d like.”
You stepped back, adjusting the unorganized magazines, and turned to walk back to your station.
“Well, wait.” He went to grab your arm, but thought better and pulled back as you turned around. “You said you write.”
“Yes.” You nodded at him.
“Can I read your stuff?”
“Why would I let you read my work?” You laughed slightly uncomfortably. It was a weird question. He doesn’t know anything about you or your writing. You could actually suck at it. “I don’t even know you.”
“Goshiki.” He put his hand out with a smile and you shook it, telling him your name. “So we’re friends now?”
You started laughing. You couldn’t believe this guy. Friends? You met less than two minutes ago because he was being a creep in your store.
“You don’t have to laugh.�� He grumbled.
“Why do you want to read my work so badly? You don’t know me. It could very well suck.”
“I just don’t have anyone to talk to about this stuff. I’ve been reading these books for years. I tried to avoid them in high school because I knew I would get made fun of, but I’ve never met anyone in person that likes them too. Not since you.”
The look on his face made you feel so guilty. Why did you have to have such a big heart? The guy just wants to talk about romance novels. He also had a point. You barely knew anyone that liked romance novels and you worked at a book store. Honestly, you could use a second opinion. Dylan had no idea what he was talking about half the time.
“Fine.” You sighed and he started smiling.
“Really?”
“Yes, but I’m not letting you read it without me watching. The last thing I need is you to steal my ideas.”
“That’s perfect.” He pulled out his phone. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street I like. We can meet there. Can I have your number?”
“Are you talking about Milstead?” You took his phone and typed your information, handing him your phone.
“Yeah, you know it?”
“Know it? I love it. I practically keep them in business.”
That’s where your friendship with the weird guy in the bookstore started. You weren’t so stuck in middle school that you would call him your best friend, but he was definitely your best friend. You had even caught him calling you his best friend to your coworkers and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t have you smiling.
You had never gotten along with someone so immediately the way you did with Goshiki. You had an endless list of similar interests, from favorite books to your favorite coffee shop. You even had the same oddball order from the café. Though, you were both pretty sure that he accidentally got your order once and liked it so much he continued ordering it.
It didn’t take long for you both to start hanging out nearly every day and he started coming into the bookstore to talk to you rather than actually reading the novels he loved. After a couple weeks you trusted him enough to email him your work and it was only a month into your friendship before he was going over to your apartment to hang out regularly.
“Don’t you think it’s weird how close you’ve gotten?” Dylan asked as he helped stock the shelves. He had been wondering how your writing was going and if you were going to finish the latest chapter you had been working on. When you told him Goshiki was coming over to your place later so it wouldn’t get done, he worried.
“I don’t think it’s weird. Is it?” You didn’t feel uncomfortable. Honestly, Goshiki didn’t give off any of the red flags you were so used to seeing in people. He was genuinely a nice person who loved the same things as you.
“I don’t know. You just so happen to love all the same things?” He paused his stocking and looked at you. “Are you sure he doesn’t just have feelings for you and maybe he’s pretending to like the same things as you?”
“Stop trying to put me in my romance novel.” You laughed. “Guys don’t do that for me.”
Later that night you were in your kitchen waiting for Goshiki to get there. You had done something so stupid, something so completely thoughtless that you knew would ruin your mood yet you couldn’t resist the torture apparently. You weighed yourself. The level of fluctuating your weight did was honestly unbelievable. You always had good days when it was down, but days like today when it was up, you couldn’t help but let it sour your mood.
There was a knock at the door before it opened up and Goshiki walked in. You hadn’t given him a key or anything, but it was only a matter of time before you both hit that step.
“I brought Oreos.” He smiled, setting the container on the counter, pulling it open and eating one. He grabbed a second one and split it open, handing you the side without the cream. “Here.”
“You can have my side.” You tried to smile.
“But you always eat my half that doesn’t have cream.”
“It’s fine.” You shook your head. “I shouldn’t be eating it.”
“Shouldn’t be eating it? Are you sick?” He pulled another Oreo from the container and ate it in one bite. He was honestly so lucky he could eat whatever he wanted.
“No just watching my weight. I sort of fell back into some old habits.”
“What’s wrong with your weight? You look great.”
“Let’s get started on the story.” You tried to change the subject.
“Did you finish the chapter?” Goshiki’s eyes were wide and he spit the dryness of the cookies from his mouth out of excitement. You laughed as he quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry.”
“Maybe.” You smiled coyly, grabbing his hand and he grabbed the Oreo container. “Come on.”
Moving to the couch, you sat on the end, Goshiki plopping next to you, and you put your laptop in his lap. There was a tiny bit of anxiety building in your stomach as you sat there watching him read and you were pretty sure part of it was what Dylan had said earlier. Was it possible that Goshiki had feelings for you? You watched as he put another Oreo in his mouth, his eyes glued to screen of your computer, scanning back and forth as he read. You weren’t even sure if he was blinking, the glow of the monitor shining onto his eyes. There was no way someone could be that into you to fake that look of concentration.
You smiled to yourself and kept watching him read. This chapter had a pretty steamy scene in it but you’d known Goshiki long enough and seen him read enough of your work to know that it didn’t matter what he was reading, his expression never changed. His eyes were always wide with interest, mouth closed in a pout.
He put another Oreo in and you watched him as he chewed, his jaw working. You could see the sharp, jagged edges of the cookie through his cheek until it eventually became a smooth, round bump and he swallowed it, reaching for another.
Propping your head up on your hand on the back of the couch, you continued watching him. He was definitely good-looking. You had noticed how good-looking he was the first day you saw him in the magazine section, hiding his romance novel. Not wanting to interrupt him, you tried not to laugh, but definitely couldn’t hold back the smile as you thought about the memory. Would it be so bad if he did have feelings for you? You had dated some really terrible guys in the past. Goshiki wouldn’t even be close to the list those guys were on.
He licked his lips, wiping Oreo crumbs from his mouth and you licked your own lips, swallowing hard as you watched him. You liked the same food, the same coffee, the same books, you had so many hobbies that overlapped and you could honestly spend hours with him without getting bored. You started to think that maybe you were feeling anxious not because of what Dylan thought of Goshiki, but maybe what you were feeling about him. Was it maybe you that had feelings for Goshiki?
“Wow, that was such a good—” He turned to look at you but noticed something in your face, an expression he wasn’t sure of. “Everything okay?”
You had made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, some of them you regretted, some led you to the most amazing times. This last year especially was a time of making really great decisions, cleaning out the bad and bringing in the good. You weren’t sure which direction this decision was going to take you, but you leaned into Goshiki anyway. His eyes went a little wide as your lips barely touched. You wanted to give him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t and that made you push yourself the last inch until your lips met his.
Soft, plush, velvety lips pressed against yours and for an instant you were taken out of the moment, your head swirling with a mix of feelings, amazing feelings that you weren’t even sure you could separate but it didn’t matter because the cocktail they created in your head made you feel drunk, stupidly drunk as you kissed him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you pulled back.
“Oh my—I’m sorry—I don’t—"
“No, it… it feels good.” He brought his hands up to your cheeks and pushed his lips against yours again, this time without any hesitation. You never knew the feeling of his nose touching yours or the little puffs of his breath against your face, or just how warm, calloused, and big his hands would feel against your cheek. Suddenly you were feeling them all at once and you pulled him closer, your tongue licking over his lips until he opened his mouth.
He dropped his hand to your waist, rubbing at the fleshiness of your body and you couldn’t stop the heavy beating of your heart. The awkwardness you had briefly worried about didn’t exist, it was only bliss. It was the best kind of overwhelming and you wanted more of him.
Pushing the laptop to the other side of him, you lifted yourself up until you could climb over him, straddling his lap. His hands immediately went to your plump hips, cradling them, but again you wanted more and you scooted yourself closer.
“Uh—I…” He gasped, sitting back from you.
“Is this too fast?”
“I’ve just never—I mean, I don’t know how—I’ve never—reading it is totally different.”
“Are you okay?” He kind of looked like he was shutting down. He was saying a lot, but none of it was complete and made no sense to you.
His eyes widened as he whispered quietly to himself. “Holy shit, my dick’s hard.”
“Goshi—”
“I have to go.” He started standing up with you in his lap and you quickly moved out of the way so he could get up. “I’m sorry. I just… I have to go.”
He didn’t even turn around to look at you as he moved hurriedly to the front door of your apartment. You heard the door quickly open and close and you couldn’t even let yourself feel bad. You were just confused.
It was possible you misread the situation, but he seemed really into it. Maybe he changed his mind partway through. You didn’t want to think about you being the problem, but it was hard to ignore. He felt your weight. You sat on his lap and he held you and maybe he finally realized that you didn’t ‘look great’ like he always told you.
You sighed, sitting back on the couch and running your fingers through your hair. You had done so much this last year to better yourself. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. It wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. Great decisions would lead to great opportunities and you were trying to bring good things into your life. Falling for your best friend was not on that list, yet here you were.
Shit.
.....
@chaotic-nick​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ @serostapesweat​ @lovelyzabrak-meadow​
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zooptseyt · 2 years
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מיר וועלן זיי איבערלבן
We will outlive them
This year I had one of the greatest honors of my professional career, and frankly a high point in my life in general, in being asked to present to sophomore English classes about Jews and Judaism as part of their unit on the book Night. I made a point of talking very little on the Holocaust itself. Instead I divided it into three main sections: (1) Jewish practice, culture, and belief; (2) Ashkenazi Jewish history pre-Holocaust, with special focus on Jew hatred; (3) what we should take away from the lessons of the Holocaust today.
In this last part, I explained how the Nazis' hatred was aimed at many aspects of society—foreigners, LGBTQ+ people, leftists—and that Jews were hated both for being Jews and for being associated with these groups.
Because of this especially, I spent the weeks in which I presented waiting anxiously, worried that I might get an email or a phone call letting me know a parent or student complained. Fortunately, this didn't happen. I wish that made me feel more like the fear was misguided.
I have faced, in some form or another, antisemitism at every job I have worked (other than Baskin Robbins, credit where it's due). I have had a coworker at Jimmy John's lecture me on how the Holocaust is a myth and Jews run the world and, upon me letting management know this, they promised to move us to different shifts. That was all. No disciplinary action.
Before that, Menards was the first time I got called a kike. Had another guy complain about what I was doing in Israel (to clarify, I have done nothing in Israel, as I have never set foot anywhere near it). Had a coworker who, in a moment of being overly familiar, called me "you fucking jew" the literal first time he met me (we did not become close and I don't believe I ever learned his name). Had others, upon learning I was Jewish, compliment me for looking normal, and not having an ugly nose.
The students are mostly great. I have heard some students murmur things about Jews upon seeing me enter the classroom, but only once. I accept the possibility that comments happen behind my back. I had one student start chanting "Jew" at me directly when we went over a story about a kid making a bunch of money through their wise business decisions. When I shot him a look and told him to stop, he looked genuinely upset to see I was mad. That stuck with me. He was a nice boy who very clearly liked me a lot, and he thought chanting "Jew, Jew, Jew, Jew" at me as a joke about getting rich was fine. Oy.
Neither of those events took place during my presentations for Night. Aside from the usual few kids sleeping, they were all very respectful and engaged. I'm deeply grateful for this.
And yet I spent a month expecting to get called in. We as a nation have had two notable instances in the news where someone in authority said educators need to be fair to the Nazis. Thankfully, both instances were met with backlash. Maus just got pulled in Tennessee. People are regularly making comparisons between public health ordinances and being dehumanized, rounded up into camps, and murdered for being Jewish.
אוי.
I have become slightly more visibly Jewish lately. You could call me baal teshuvah, which I would, but this usually comes with the assumption of an orthodox affiliation (I am Reform). Part of this is because I believe firmly in my religion and want to act on it, but this was true for years before I was willing to wear a yarmulke out in public. At some point I realized that frankly the only reason I wasn't wearing a yarmulke was that I didn't want people to think I was weird. Without a yarmulke, even people who know I'm Jewish see me as a person first. With a yarmulke, I realized that even many of those who don't hate Jews will see my Jewishness first and then, hopefully, my humanity. At some point I realized two things: firstly, that I was happy with being seen as a Jew first. Secondly, that I want anyone who may hate me for being a Jew to hate me. I would rather be spit on for being a Jew than accepted under false pretenses.
But, as seems fitting, my religious baal teshuvah was part of a larger returning to Jewish culture. I've started cooking kasha varnishkes, (vegetarian) kishka, matzoh balls, latkes, kugel, baking challah, etc. I'm studying Yiddish on duolingo, reading Yiddish literature in translation, and so on. I'm not a perfect Jew, I am decidedly not good about Shabbos, but I light the candles. I try to daven. I do the holidays, big and small. I eat bagels.
A major part of this whole thing for me comes from the way Jews view time and history. It is said that every Jew should see themselves as leaving Egypt every day. It is said that every Jew was present at Sinai. We aren't merely to see ourselves as the descendents of our history, but active participants who feel these events as their personal experiences rather than historical.
I understood this conceptually, but only recently did I actually start to feel it, to actually really get it myself. I think this shapes how we look at the Holocaust, especially as we move closer to a point where there are no survivors left. It certainly shapes how I view it. The impact of the Holocaust has shaped in some form every Jew alive today.
I was reading just the other day a book that mentioned the idea that to dance at a Jewish wedding is to dance on Hitler's grave. We should view our lives as such, as acts of defiance, and as acts of triumph. We as Jews should live every day knowing that our moments of joy and safety are an act of triumph hard won.
As an educator, I obviously value education as a means of doing good. Education is vital to honoring the lives, history, and culture stolen from us by the Nazis. Obviously, educating on the Holocaust is important, and we must ensure we combat the decline in knowledge about what happened. But I think we should do more. Engaging today with that which they tried to destroy—our literature, our practices, Yiddish, our food—is a way to both honor and remember, and an act of triumph and defiance against those who wanted and want us dead.
To my fellow Jews, I have no interest in preaching how to be a Jew. Whether it's secular and atheistic or growing payos and studying Talmud, I just suggest passionately that you be a Jew with pride.
To everyone, Jewish or not, I would suggest studying Jewish history outside of the Holocaust, as told by Jews. Read Jewish literature that isn't about the Holocaust. Understand us as artists, poets, thinkers, families, as fully human, rather than a tragic moment.
A note I ended my presentations on was the humanity of others. It is so vital to truly realize that the person you hate most in life is as fully human as yourself. This isn't only necessary in remembering those lost in the Holocaust. It is also essential to how we view the Nazis. Every guard, every officer, was a human with a full inner life and friends. You may well have gotten along with some. It's easy for people to see themselves in the Jews—just ask an anti-vaxxer—but harder to be willing to recognize that same humanity in the Nazis, in Hitler. We must not see these people as mere historical monsters, for it creates a fiction that prevents us from honestly confronting what happened and ensuring we never let it happen again. Nazism was both deeply inhumane and unfortunately human. We cannot afford to dehumanize this enemy, as it creates a fictitious line between our present and our past. We must actively work to flush the faintest hint of the Nazism from each other, ourselves, and our society. We must actively confront hatred and violence, by the state and by individuals. It did not exist in a vacuum, killed by time. Confront hate when you see it in others. Confront yourself on the people you don't really see as people first. Maybe it's Muslims. Maybe it's prisoners. Maybe the homeless. Maybe it's Jews. Maybe it's Palestinians. Maybe illegal immigrants. Maybe the disabled. Maybe it's people you disagree with politically. Whoever it may be, recognize within yourself the potential to hate, and then act tirelessly to remove it. Empathy is an act of love and defiance.
Never Again.
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dainty-fingertips · 3 years
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a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader
wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!
word count: 2233
summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.
trigger warnings: none :)
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          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 
          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.
          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”
          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 
          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 
          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.
          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 
          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.
          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 
          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 
          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.
          “Mhm.”
          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.
          “Oh really?”
           He scoffed. “Yes.”
          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 
          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 
          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.
          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.
          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.
          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?
          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.
          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.
          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.
          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.
          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.
          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.
          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.
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bokunosimpfiction · 3 years
Text
Yandere!Heisenberg x Reader Pt 3
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A/N: Since y’all demanded a plot that’s what you’ll get. Will it be good? No. I’ve never written anything with a plot in my entire life. Ever. Not even when I did Nanowrimo or whatever. I just bullshitted the whole thing. Like I’ll do with this fic. Y’all are going to have to remind me to update because I have the attention span of a goat. I’ll try to update this on Saturdays??? IDK at this point. ALSO, WHY THE FUCK IS THIS SO POPULAR?????????? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY NOTES THIS HAS ON AO3???? 69????SIXITY FUCKING NINE??? I HATE EVERYTHING MY LEGACY WILL BE READER CALLING HEISENBERG DOOFSCHMIRTZ I HATE EVRYTHING DSHFUGSADFJ
Synopsis: You have totally, %100, given up on escaping. Totally. You haven't been gathering supplies for one, final last hurray. Nope. Totally not. All you have to do is persuade Heisenberg of that so you can change your mind at the last minute. Y’all know the trigger warning for this series but if you don’t tw:kidnapping (implied)
Taglist: it’s exclusivly @localdepressedvampire​  so if you want to be on it for just this story or for all my pieces fill out the google doc in my pinned post or dm me and I’ll put you on it. :)
             You’ve made a breakthrough in your long-term plan of escapism. Even with the mini escape attempts that were really about exploring the factory and less about actually trying to get out, you hadn’t made a lot of progress: until now.
             Well, two, really… Okay, maybe 1 ½. Firstly, you found a sawed-off two-barrel shotgun. With ammo. In fact, there was a various amount of ammo around the factory, but no actual gun. Until now. The second discovery, which is nowhere near as useful, was a window. Which was probably 50 or more feet up from the ground. You didn’t get a chance to inspect it that much, considering as soon as you saw it and got a glimpse at the far-off ground, you had to run again from Lycans.
             Which gives you a basic idea of a way to escape. You knew where the ammo was, you knew where the gun was and had a route to the edge of the building, and hopefully could find stairs at the end of the hallway. Now all you had to do was find a time where you could be gone long enough to get a decent head start before, he notices you’re even gone. Even when he was in the workshop, he kept a close eye on you, keeping you in arms-length to the point where it taxed on both of your mental health.
             And even then, in that chair in the small room, you watch him work in the finer details on something the size of your head and torso. You try not to look at the phone in your lap, he doesn’t even know you have it, much less how great the reception is in the building. How did he not know about his old phone that was still working fine? Oh well, he doesn’t need to know you’re looking at memes and reading feel-good wolf-star fanfic on ao3.
             The best idea you had was to leave him while he was asleep, but there were two some issues with that: he clung to you like his life depended on it, your back to his chest and arms around you almost tight enough to keep you awake; it was dark as hell in the hallways of the factory as is, but it would be impossible to navigate safely with the lights; and the Lycans were most active outside at night, which was where you were trying to go. They’ve tried to eat you before as they show no discrimination on food.
             The only way to get a good enough head start would be to leave while he didn’t notice you were gone, and wouldn’t notice for a long, long time. And that when it hit you. The only time he ever left you by yourself was when he had to deal with the other three lords. And while he left you in that basement that you originally woke up in, you had memorized your way out and found that going up five flights of stairs took you to that faithful widow.
             Would you have enough time to explore and look for an actual exit/entrance, or should you play it safe and find a way to go out that window. You wanted to laugh to yourself, you’d never think that going down a 50ft plus drop would be considered safe, but here you were, kidnapped and held hostage by one of the people your late grandmother warned you not to associate with, or even go near. The letter you received directly quoted “the four lords and their mother, Mother Miranda, are not to be approached or associated with at any costs. You’ll know them when you see them, they smell like death and money. See them and run.”
             You can’t help but find that ironic, considering that you did try to run, heeded her warning, and still faced the consequences that were far worse than she had warned you about. You regretted coming here, to this small village, when you first arrived: no friends, and even those you tried to approach held you to her standard and expected them to be just like her. You were far from her kind and optimistic nature (at least that’s what you heard of her; you hadn’t even known of her whereabouts until she was dead).
             Even the duke, who had helped smuggle you into the village, didn’t seem fond of you. It was a shame, you tried so hard to impress him. But he saw you to a point where you could easily reach her old cottage without having too many issues, turned his cart around, and left without a good-bye. It bothered you to no end that your only companion for about a year or so was an elderly outside cat and the creaking noises the walls made at night.
             And then the cat died and not even a week later you got kidnapped. You never considered yourself lucky, but damn if that wasn’t the worst streak of luck you’ve had in a long time.
             You pretend to turn a page in your book and scroll through your Instagram feed, seeing friends having fun at the beach, or studying at the library, or your old best friend taking selfies in provocative clothing to your ex-boyfriend. Did she forget he cheated on you? She wasn’t always the smartest, but she brought that heartbreak upon herself. You see a photo of your mom, she had posted a picture of a black and white photo of her with her mom, you’re guessing, you have no idea who that old woman is.
             This is the last photo I had with my mom before she died. We lost contact after I moved out. I wish we parted on better terms, Nana.
             She’s in a prairie dress, holding an ancient-looking key in one hand, and the other wrapped around her mom, a middle-aged woman with long hair in two braids and a face that had too many stress wrinkles. You guess your mom was as bad as you were in college. The background looks dreary. You would have guessed it to be the quality of the photo if you hadn’t recognized the house behind them as the house you lived in used to live in.
             The loops on the handle of the key look familiar. You spread your fingers apart to zoom in and see the blurry engravings on the side. It was the payment you gave to sneak into the village. You thought it was a worthless family heirloom at most and found it strange that he had even found interest in the key, or even valued it deeper than money in general. Maybe this photo or other photos of you and your family would help out.
             Why is that key suddenly piquing your interest? Were you that bored, as to sit there and think about a key that was at least twice your age? A key that you didn’t even have. You needed a hobby besides escapism and rejecting your captor’s sexual advances. You look up at him again, only to find him leaning against the desk, hat off and sunglass placed on his forehead, his gaze on you. It wasn’t his normal piercing one, that studied you and calculated your every move, but soft and lazy. His current gaze was dreamy; he was daydreaming about you. You found that equally undaring s it was unnerving.
             “Karl.”
             “Yes, Sweetiepea?” Honestly, what the fuck.
             “Firstly, why are you staring at me like that? Secondly, that is the most disgusting way to use that pet name. I need to take a shower after you called me that.”
             He chuckles light-heartedly. Even his softer more genuine, happy chuckles are booming and loud. “Okay… Sugarplum!” And he busts out laughing.
             Clearly dodging the first question and focusing on the second. You can’t believe you gave him ammo for his annoying-you-gun. And you thought you’d grown immune to most of his… less-savory traits. Were you growing used to him? Next thing you know you’re going to like him and develop Stockholm syndrome!
             “You’re a shit head, hobo magneto…” You turn your head away and let your hair cover half your face so he can’t see you smile. You’ll miss him when you escape and get the duke to smuggle you back to your home in Bucharest. But only a little. Just because calling Heisenberg these names are funny.
             “Why don’t you call me by my name, I know you know it.”
             “You sure about that?” You quip back.
             “You’ve lived with me for at least two months now!”
             “Hm…. I think I know your name! It’s uh…” You are totally faking not knowing his name. “It’s… Heidi Carlson? Yeah, that sounds about right!”
             “It’s Karl Heisenberg!”
             “Quit being so silly, Heidi! Maybe it’s nap-time!” This was a little too fun.
             He looks back at his project for a moment and genuinely considers it. “I know you’re being antagonistic but you’re probably right.” And with that, he walks towards you and goes to scoop you up. You have to shut your book quickly in order for him not to notice the phone in between its pages before you let him pick you up.
             He immediately notices that. “Are… Are you sick?”
             “No! Of course not!” Because you genuinely aren’t sick, and he’s already up in your business as-is, you don’t need him dotting on you because he thinks you’re sick or something. You’ll go fucking crazy.
             “You’ve put in zero effort into anything remotely physical since your last little failed escape attempt.” He gave it a little bit of thought. “You’ve given up, haven’t you, and you’re just depressed about it aren’t you?”
             You want to say no, you really do, but if Heisenberg thinks you’ve given up on escaping, perhaps it’ll give you enough space to plan the big one. The reverse heist so to speak. “No- I… okay maybe I have but I still don’t like you.
             He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good girl. Now let’s get us that well-deserved nap.”
             You plug your nose and turn away as a joke. “You’ve gotta take a bath first, you smell like oil and sweat.” You don’t fight it, because you have to play the part, but you still have to act a little bit like yourself.
             “Okay, fine doll, but don’t think you’ve escaped my barrage of affection, because as soon as I get out of the shower-“
             You bonk him. And he looks at you so confused before he smiles and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours. You try to hold the bile back in your mouth and lean forward and peck his lips before leaning back. You failed at trying to not visibly gag.
             “Ew… I can’t believe I just kissed you.”
             “Well, I guess someone caught feelings… Didn’t they?”
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runephoenix6769 · 3 years
Text
“What is with the Blake / Yang hate this week? Folks seem particularly fired up.” I asked this question on a forum because of something I’ve noticed the last few days on discussions about Blake and Yang/Bumbleby/shipping in general. I keep seeing the same answers.  “It ruins the team’s dynamic.”
Welp, I’m pretty certain none of those people would say that Raven/Tai and Tai/Summer ruined the team’s dynamic. Or that Ren and Nora are currently  ruining the team’s dynamic.  What is this holy than thou crusading to protect the sanctity of the team dynamic? Rwby has always been first and foremost about interpersonal relationships. It’s what drives the actual plot. Character growth, failing relationships/friendships. How they change over time, either to grow or crumble. 
“It’s being shoehorned in, for fanwank.” How? How is it being shoehorned in? Give me a narrative breakdown as to where/how/when this occurs? Compare it to the Sun/Blake narrative and show me the glaring differences between the Yang/Blake narrative to prove that bumbleby was never planned yet blacksun was?  (Sidenote. Anyone that has been asked to do this on the forum has yet to do it.)
“Yang showed interest in boys.”“ Yes, yes she passed comment once. In vol 1 episode 1. 8 VOLUMES AGO. She has shown not a lick of interest in guys since. Its almost as if she’s like any normal 17 year old girl who is growing into adulthood and figuring herself out, who might be realising her interest in Blake isn’t strictly platonic and is trying to navigate that whilst also grappling with what that means with regards to their friendship. And dealing with an over arching situation that is, ya know, potentially the end of the world as they know it.  It’s about two years in universe, right? Which is about right of an amount of time for what its happening between them to play out. It only feels like longer to the audience because, well, its taken 8/9 years to tell the story up until that point. 
“The Fans are too loud/vocal/come on too strong.” Ok, this one I agree with, we are loud and vocal and that might come across as coming on strong  (here’s a huge) BUT, there is actually a genuine explanation for why it seems that way.   If you really think about it, objectively. 
Hear me out.  Fans are excited about the potential representation we don't otherwise usually get in media. I mean, if you have 10,000 pieces of media and only ONE of them represents lgbtq people, of course we’re gonna be excited and talk about the ONE quite a bit with others who are like us. This might also be the first time we’ve seen anything like this, or seen ourselves represented in a somewhat positive light. It stands to reason that the other 9999 pieces aren't going to hold our attention as much, esp if its the same hetero romance played out a bajillion times before, right? I mean, if you have a group of people who are constantly represented in the 9999 other shows, their voices are going to spread thinner, right? They aren’t going to be gathered all on one place, talking about the same thing because there are 9999 other choices to connect them to other people. They aren’t going to care as much if their straight ship happens/doesnt happen 
“Hey, I can move onto another piece of media that is churned out by the status quo. No big deal.”
Hetero romances are ten a penny. Flick through netflix, hulu, crunchy roll etc.  Where as if you have a group of people who are only represented in ONE show out of the 10,000 those people are going to gather in one place to connect with others and its only going to seem like they are louder due to the densely packed space.  These same people have been majority silent about the other 9999 pieces of media as their voice isn't usually represented in a positive light - being queer characters are usually brutally murdered or sidelined. (Thankyou Hays Code.)- or not even represented at all. (Bury Your Gays is a trope for a reason, folks.) And we are NEVER the titular characters. We’ve been living on crumbs and subtext for decades! Not to mention showrunners who actively queerbait the hell out of us for ratings and viewership. The almighty Pink Pound as its often referred to in business. “But why do they have to make them gay?” You’re not made gay, you’re born gay. It just takes longer for some people to realise than others. It can be a gradual realisation. And this is quite possibly the case with Yang/Blake, slowly coming to realise their own burgeoning sexualities and attraction to each other.
”Why do they have to be gay?” They don't need a reason to be queer! They just are! Queerness is only a part of a person, not their everything. It’s actually quite refreshing to see Yang/Blake being portrayed as much more than their potential sexuality.  Ask yourself, ‘Why does a character have to be straight? And why doesn’t a straight character have to constantly reaffirm their sexuality? Why is ‘straightness’ assumed by default?’ Heteronormativity, is something that has been perpetuated by decades of media. (helped by the Hays Code with its out of date moral code. To be other is to be punished within the narrative.) That straight is the default setting. It’s not! We exist! Everywhere! We always have and we are going to talk to each other about it when we see a glimpse of ourselves represented in what has been a relative Sahara Desert when it comes to queer content were we are not villainised.   “The romance is detracting from the plot.” Two seconds ago, people were claiming that the romance was none existent. Which is it? But Nora and Ren’s romance that is being held up as a mirror to bumbleby is fine? That Jaune relentlessly pursuing Weiss was perfectly ok. Neptune openly hitting on female characters is fine. 
“I don’t have a problem with LGBT. I just don’t want it forced down my throat.” Again, out of 10,000 pieces of media, this is just ONE show. Nobody is forcing anyone to watch it or participate.  Queer people have had to stomach literal 100′s of years of straight media forced upon them. Since the very conception of the written word and narrative storytelling. In plays, theatre, art, music, tv, film, on billboards, advertising, in places of education and learning etc etc. Queer people are bombarded with it whilst also being surrounded by negativity towards queerness. 
“They are shoving it down my throat!” part two Is hand holding, compassion and expressing concern for another person and comforting them somehow offensive? Renora kissed, not a problem. Arkos kissed, not a problem. Show me in the sand where the line is drawn. What is the difference? Please explain this to me? Why is the expression of queerness somehow offensive? Is this because decades of media have perpetuated the false idea that all queer people are sex crazed perverts? That you’ve been groomed into thinking that queer sexuality is only based in the act of sex itself? That queer sexuality couldn’t possibly be similar to heterosexuality in its expression?
That it couldn’t possibly be about attraction, emotional, mental and maybe one day blossom into physical between two consenting adults, a pure expression of love the exact same as heterosexuality. 
That some how queer love stems from some sort of deviancy or mental health issue. That queer people are some how bad or evil, and therefore their expression of affection is wrong? Oh, I wonder where those beliefs have possibly stemmed from?  “Why are they in my face?” part three.  50% of of the titular cast are potentially queer. Blake and Yang. But if you look at the overall cast ensemble that runs at minimum 16 any given volume, that’s a measly 12.5% (prolly a lot smaller if you actually counted the whole cast that appears in rotation each volume) Also, someone did the math. Blake - a titular character- actually has less spoken lines that Jaune. ffs. B&Y spent neatly a whole two volumes of 8 apart. 25% of the narrative as it stands on entirely different continents. 
I fail to see how it being in someone’s face could be the case.
  “I just don't see it!”
That’s ok and perfectly valid But listen when people who have lived this experience are telling you that their experience is being portrayed on the screen. That they see themselves being represented.  OK, This completely got away from me. In conclusion. They are more straight people than queer people and media often reflects that.   We are usually the silent minority, we are sick of it but we are used to it and we are very excited that things seem to be finally changing.
It’s two characters in an large cast in ONE show out of 10,000. Its a piece of media that, for a change, hasn’t been 100% curated for straight people.  We are often not allowed to play in the sand box and if we are, we’re told to play with the broken toys, be grateful and quiet. So when we are given a sandbox to play in with new unbroken toys, we are gonna dog pile in there and make a ruckas, calling our friends over. What I’m trying to say is, it’s gonna get rowdy.  and here’s something to think about.  “When you are used to privilege, equality feels like deprivation.”  
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jesswritesthat · 4 years
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hey babe! i love your writing so much!!! so i recently watched kaguya-sama: love is war and i was wondering if you could do a headcanon of kuroo, bokuto and atsumu where their crush gets sick and they visit her and she drags them into her bed to sleep with them? you can decide how it ends. thank you so much in advance if you do end up writing this! i love you and take care of youself💞
Hello lovely! Thank you so much for this, I’ve never seen Kaguya-Sama but it sounds really cute. Also take care of yourself too and I hope these are okay! Much love 💕
Summary: Bokuto, Kuroo and Atsumu checking up on their sick crush headcanons
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Bokuto Kōtarō:
• Has felt like he's been missing something all day but couldn't quite decipher what it was until Akaashi mentions how you're off sick.
• Thats when your phone is bombarded with ‘urgent’ messages inquiring about your wellbeing to the dramatic extent of:
[ Kou: (N/N)! You haven't answered me yet, are yOu StiLl AliVe?! ]
[ (N/n): no ]
[ Kou: Aw, can I have your cool headphones then, since you won't be needing them anymore? 😁💕 ]
[ (N/n): Wow Kou, I'll haunt your dumbass at Volleyball games for that. ]
[ Kou: Even in death, your support means everything to me. ]
• Despite his nonsense he kept updated with you throughout the school day by sending memes in hopes of raising your spirits. The most peace you got was during Volleyball Club time - the Ace too invested to message you at that point.
• At the end though he calls his team for a serious discussion and they're all expecting major improvements on their gameplay ready for Nationals.
But no.
"What can I get (N/n) to make her feel better, this is crucial. I need only good ideas!"
• They all knew about his crush on you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it but you were none the wiser. Even so, Fukurōdani offered what advice they could to their friend because like him, they cared about you too.
• "Akaashi picked up your schoolwork." Bokuto says as he walks into your room, waving the papers and placing them on your side.
"And you didn't think to take notes for me?"
"Nah, I wanted to bring you good stuff."
"Fair point."
• Bokutos likely brought everything he could find once he went home and changed/showered - he's got flowers, your favourite snacks, drinks, medicine and some movies to cure your boredom. Like how much do I owe you???
He's says it's fine though, in return you have to be better by tomorrow.
That's not how it works Kou.
• You're both seated on your bed watching some shitty movie when you start getting a bit sleepy and you just want warmth.
"Can you give me a hug Kōtarō? I just need a hug, I know how weird that sounds..."
• Doesn't even think twice about it, he practically tackles you onto the covers which elicits lovely giggles from you - the potential of him getting sick too isn't even considered, he's just focused on being with you and making you feel better.
• His arms are so warm and they’re beautiful, you forgot how toned he is and you grow so comfortable in his embrace. He’s also really relaxed about it and is calm enough to ramble on normally - except when you nuzzle against him during a cold shiver. Bokuto full on freezes mid sentence, releasing a cautious breath prior to changing the subject.
• It’s obvious he’s content with you though, and surprisingly falls asleep first which makes you laugh. Kōtarō keeps a strong but delicate hold on your body and is subconsciously receptive enough to your every move. You adjusted yourself slightly which stirred him, his voice is much huskier than before due to sleep but remains concerned.
“Can’t you sleep (Y/n)? I can-“
“I’m fine, you’re keeping me warm.”
• With a nod of understanding he’s gone again and you follow shortly afterwards, the both of you unintentionally making the nap a sleepover. Which you only realise the next morning - still in his arms even if the position has changed. You take a few minutes to enjoy it.
• Miraculously doesn't get sick, his immune system must be immortal as he's brimming with energy once he gets up. His radiance is actually contagious as you feel much better in yourself too and his vibrant attitude really motivates you for the day despite being physically exhausted from beating the flu.
• "Your partner is going to be blessed if you bring them breakfast, I mean talk about amazing." You comment as he brings up a plate that he’d crafted in your kitchen, which is surprisingly decent. You suppose he must keep his body fit somehow.
"My crush will have to do for now."
"Wait I - ah, you have a crush on me?"
"Hah, didn't you know? I never tried to hide it or anything."
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Kuroo Tetsurō:
• Notices your absence immediately, he's observant by nature but especially where his crush is concerned and he isn't afraid to contact you before class starts.
• "Hey (Y/n), it's Kuroo, are you running late today?"
"Hnn, I'm not gonna make it. I tried but I feel awful - Sickness: 1, (L/n): 0." Already by the grogginess in your voice he can tell you're under the weather and winces at the sound of you stifling a cough.
"Ah geez, go to bed would you? And drink plenty of water, I'll inform the teachers and everything."
"Thanks Tetsurō, I owe you one."
• Will message you at regular intervals throughout the day regarding your health with cute little reminders. You were on his mind frequently, he’s lowkey worried okay?
[ Tetsu: Drink water, and eat breakfast if you can. ]
[ (Y/n): Yeah yeah I have, go learn something. ]
[ Tetsu: Why are you replying? Shouldn't you be sleeping it off - I don't want your germs. ]
[ (Y/n): Sharing is caring. ]
[ Tetsu: Oya? It took a cold for you finally admit you care, so is it gonna take a pandemic to say you love me? 😏 ]
[ (Y/n): 🖕🏻]
• Is actually considerate enough to tell you he'll swing by after practice, and asks if you want anything from the shop so you give basics like water and tablets. Comes equipped with the extra notes he's taken from all of your shared classes and requested papers from teachers in those you don't, so you're not falling behind.
• Aside from the bare minimum you requested, he chucks your favourite snacks on your desk stating that it’s important to keep morale high too. Liar. He just wanted to do something nice for you.
• Checks your temperature despite your protests of not being a child, he only does this because it vexes you and Kuroo finds that cute. As a silent apology for teasing the Hell out of you, he’ll make you some tea and you both get lost in conversation.
• Notices you’re starting to doze off, rest you should’ve had instead of texting everyone - but ensuring everything is fine, he’s about to stealthily exit until your fingers grasp his wrist and tug him back slightly.
"Stay Tetsurō..."
"You'll likely regret that request once you wake up."
"S'ok, it's you."
• The strength you have when tugging him into bed with you catches him completely off guard and he’s actually blushing - doesn’t know what to say but knows he has to at least maintain some composure.
“So uh, never knew you wanted me this badly.”
“Ugh shut up dumbass, I can feel your rapid heartbeat from here.”
“Right...”
• Kuroo goes all shy, you’ve wrapped your arms around his waist and are comfortably leaning against his side and he absentmindedly runs his fingers soothingly up and down your arm to settle his own nerves.
• It’s peacefully silent, simply enjoying one another’s company before he hears your muffled sniffles indicating you’ve fallen asleep and a soft smile graces his lips. If you were his, then he’d definitely kiss your forehead, and lips to be honest, but the fact you aren’t leaves him with a disappointed sigh.
• You both end up taking a nap, waking up wrapped in each other’s arms and noses practically touching which startled the Captain - Kuroo literally falling off of your bed with a yelp much to your amusement. Afterwards, he departs suggesting you get more rest, get better soon and he’ll see you at school next week.
• At least that was the plan, which altered with the text exchange the following morning.
[ Kuroo: Sharing is not caring, I wanted your snacks not your sickness! ]
[ (Y/n): RIP us. 💀 ]
[ Tetsu: You owe me one remember? I've got the house to myself this weekend so would you like to suffer together? I have blankets, entertainment and food. ]
[ (Y/n): Beats sniffling alone, I'll bring the tissues and drugs. ]
• So, you went over with a trail of sneezing in your wake and ended up snuggled with Kuroo under a blanket with a variety of games gracing the TV as you skilfully passed around the tissues. Aside from being ill, spending time like this with him was perfect.
• "Sickness: 2, (L/n) and Kuroo: 0..."
"No, Kuroo: 1.”
"How so? You K.O. a sneeze or something?"
"I got to spend the day with you didn't I? That counts as a win in my book."
"Tch careful, anyone would think the Scheming Captain cares~"
"I do smartass, I care about you a lot (Y/n)..."
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Miya Atsumu:
• Atsumu wasn't one to act needy in any way, the only excuse for him to contact you in regards to your absence was to do it with a remark and hope you'd elaborate.
[ Atsumu: Yo, are ya ditching me to survive English on my own? That's cold (Y/n) 😭 ]
[ (Y/n): Sorry 'Tsumu, I'm too busy dying to care rn. Have a fun missing me loser. ]
[ Atsumu: Hah you wish, you alright tho? ]
• You're good friends but he's never really expressed genuine concern about you before, not verbally anyway. You thought the final "K" after you'd told him you were gonna rest would be the end of it.
So you were beyond surprised when he rocked up to your house later that evening.
• It took everything you had not to mock him for his embarrassed stature, solely flustered by the fact you'd seen him so considerate. Admittedly you were also exhausted and probably couldn't think of a snarky reply anyway.
• "What's up? Was there homework or - ugh, or something?"
"Huh? Oh I dunno. But uh, I got 'Samu to make you some Okayu, and a Umeboshi Tea since it's good for colds and stuff."
• Totally pestered Osamu all day to help him make you something and had to do stupid favours in return but Atsumu will deny it if you ever ask.
• “I love how you don’t care what you look like when you have guests over.”
“Take your stupid backhanded compliments and shove them up your pretty litt-“ You bite back, flipping him off in the process while Atsumu remains proudly victorious.
“Nah ah, is that any way to speak to the man who brought you dinner?”
“It’s the way to speak to the man whose currently annoying me.”
“You’re welcome, this is revenge for ditching me in class gorgeous~”
• Despite how irritating he could be, Atsumu stuck around for a bit to make sure you ate everything he’d brought and taken the appropriate medication.
• “Oh yeah, I brought that movie you were talking about the other day. Figured it might pass the time a bit.”
“Thank you! I’ll give it back once I’m better - thank you so much ‘Tsumu.”
Your excitement was endearing, and he had to collect himself a bit since admiring such little quirks was out of the question - his crush was bad enough as it is.
“Wanna watch it now? I haven’t got anything to do so I can give you spoilers.”
“Sounds good - and not a word!”
• You spent the afternoon watching the film and playfully wrestling the blonde in order to shut him up whenever he made an attempt to spoil it - he would never, but provoking you was too funny.
• You settle down later on, putting on a mindless tv show for background noise before collapsing onto your bed with groan. Atsumu raising a smug brow at your exhausted state as he threw his jacket on.
• "Wanna sleep with me?" It was innocent, at least you didn’t think much of it then.
"Do I what now?" He was smirking, thankful that your panic left you oblivious to the blush crawling up his neck at the mere insinuation alone.
"Sleep wit- ohh I did not think that through! I meant sleep in my bed, next to me, to help me drift off. Maybe it's the sleepiness or medicine but I really want you Atsumu..."
"Not helping your case at all." Again he smugly responded, dropping his jacket to the floor with a sly smile.
"Stop smirking and just hug me okay? Then you can leave and tease me about this later."
• Atsumu isn't awkward about it, subduing his nerves enough to pull you into his arms as he sits up - dutifully ignoring the butterflies in his stomach due to your close proximity and the intoxicating smell of your hair.
• Atsumu becomes unintentionally soft, his fingers slowly begin to glide through your hair and he hesitates when he feels the hum of contentment you release before continuing. Your whole body just relaxes against his and he subconsciously does the same, not even realising he was this tense around you - was his body always like that in your general presence?
• As you start quietly talking about nothing and everything, he notices a weakness - you’re a lot more open when drowsy and god he wants to take advantage but knows you’ll remember the questions he asked and murder him for it when you’re able.
• Intead he attempts to protect any dignity he thinks he has left with you - jokes on him, it’s absolutely none. You guys are way past that level and he knows it.
“You better get healthy quick, not that I care but English is really borin’ on my own ya know?”
"The people you truly care about must be really lucky to have you 'Tsumu..." The mumble is enough to make him roll his eyes, but he waits until you’re asleep to reply.
"Yeah... you are..."
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
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ingek73 · 3 years
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Prince Harry Nails Why You Shouldn't Say 'You Need Help' To Someone Struggling
Here's how the remark can backfire, and what to say when addressing mental health instead.
By
Lindsay Holmes
05/13/2021 03:40pm EDT
Prince Harry has a knack for dropping eloquent mental health truths, and his interview this week on Dax Shepard’s “Armchair Expert” podcast is no exception.
In the episode, the two discussed their fear of sharing past traumas or mental health difficulties with others. Shepard said that he worried his peers would call him “attention-seeking” or tell him to “stop being a baby.”
Harry replied that the phrase “you need help,” which is often employed as a joke or insult, is another damaging reaction. That’s because it implies “I don’t know how to deal with this, you’re unhinged or you’re not particularly well ― go and seek help,” he explained.
“Rule No. 1 is that when you actually want or feel as though someone needs help, telling them to their face ‘you need help’ is probably the best way for them to go ‘uh no ― no I don’t,’” Harry said.
“Any single one of us ― wherever we are, wherever we come from ― will always try to find some way to be able to mask the actual feeling,” he continued. “That was a huge part of the beginning of my life. I rejected it, I said there was nothing wrong with me. I’m fine.”
He’s absolutely right. We’ve made progress as a society, but that doesn’t erase past decades of mental health stigma (which still persists in some ways). Telling someone they need mental health help has often been used in a derogatory way ― particularly when someone is being what others consider “problematic.”
Saying “you need help” turns a process that would actually be beneficial into the absolute last thing anyone would want to do. It implies that you’re beyond personal care and only a therapist can “fix” you.
In reality, people living with mental health conditions need both professional and social support. Research shows that loved ones play an integral role in our mental health: One study showed people with depression who have poor social support have worse symptoms and recovery. That same study suggested that people with anxiety disorders, bipolar disorder or schizophrenia may also have similar outcomes.
Another study found that social support is a significant protective factor against postpartum depression. Other evidence states that a lack of social support is associated with an increased likelihood of developing post-traumatic stress disorder following a traumatic event.
Now, of course, there are many cases in which a person might say “you need help” more seriously. It might be a well-intentioned or compassionate observation. That’s fine! Your concern is needed! But there are ways to make that statement sound more caring and less dismissive.
Below are a few options to try the next time you find yourself in this situation.
Ask an open-ended question that acknowledges mental health issues.
“My favorite way to get into these conversations is to lead with normalizing it and then get into open-ended questions,” said Jessica Gold, an assistant professor in the department of psychiatry at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis. “Like, ‘This pandemic has been really hard on me mentally, what has it been like for you?’ And see where the conversation goes.”
Say, “I noticed _____ and I wanted to check in.”
Gold said this isn’t necessarily her first option, but it is one method you can try.
“I always try to lead with non-accusatory statements where possible, trying really hard to say things that don’t point out something someone may see as a ‘fault,’” she said.
You don’t want to make them feel like they look bad, but rather compassionately bring up your concerns. For example, “I noticed you’ve been a little down and haven’t been playing piano much recently, so I wanted to check in.”
You can also ask them how they want you to check in.
Do they prefer a text every so often? What kind of questions actually help them open up? Would they rather you ask about symptoms or distract them from what’s going on for a little while?
“I think it is important to ask people how they want to be checked in with,” Gold said. For example, people who are well-meaning “often say things like ‘Are you eating?’ to the people with eating disorders or ask about symptoms of depression or anxiety. People understand why you are checking on them, but it is important to try to do it on their terms.”
Ask, “Would you like me to help you find a professional to speak to?”
Think someone genuinely needs help? Offer to search for someone with them.
“Help people navigate the mental health system. The mental health system is inherently broken, but it is also not designed to be very helpful for people with actual mental health disorders,” Gold said.
“For example, you have to call a bunch of therapists and see if they have openings, and maybe follow up,” Gold continued. “Depression decreases your motivation and activation energy and anxiety makes talking to people on the phone hard. It can help tremendously for friends and family to help get you where you need to go ― look up therapists, or hospitals if that is what they need, even manage the emails and communication initially. But, you should ask if they want help with it before you just do it, of course.”
Therapy isn’t a dirty word or something to be shamed, Gold stressed. “It doesn’t mean something is ‘wrong’ with me, it means I made a choice to support myself more, to make my life more balanced.”
And if you are making jokes or snide comments about someone’s mental health, know that it says way more about you than it does about them. Be kind and open when someone is vulnerable around you. No one is asking you to be perfect ― just asking you not to be a jerk.
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mxtcha-tea · 3 years
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haikyuu as my pinterest content
⊹genre; crack, slight fluff? ⊹warnings; cursing lmao
⊹flight details; I don't need to explain this one
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Karasuno
Hinata: I do not have a fake social media personality. I am genuinely this fucking stupid in real life
Kageyama: why can't we end essays with "so yeah" instead of writing a conclusion??
Tsukishima: why would i face my problems when i can just listen to music instead
Yamaguchi: if you don't see me in 24 hours...I'm in my room pretending i'm at a ballroom with my enemy then suddenly became lovers
Yachi: "u okay?" nah, mf, I can't express my feelings without feeling embarrassed
Tanaka: i suffer from lip biting emoji syndrome
Noya: *gets a math problem right* BITCH I'M A BIG GANGSTA
Ennoshita: the sexual tension between me and smashing my head against the fucking wall
Daichi: I'm going insane, does anyone want anything
Suga: my therapist can't help me
Asahi: sick of being nervous all the time
Kiyoko: who will make spotify playlists with me tonight
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Seijoh
Oikawa: I will be in 3 moods today, 1. crying, 2. acting like i'm the hottest person alive, 3. staring at the ceiling wondering where i went wrong
Iwaizumi: I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING
Matsukawa: what if we kissed on the communism bench
Hanamaki: Girl you are crying over a guy who literally has no swag. please seek help
Yahaba: do i have social anxiety or am i just an attention seeker
Watari: fuck being cheated on, you ever woke up
Kyoutani: shut the fuck up
Kindaichi: do ya'll also hug a blanket and pretend it's a person
Kunimi: maybe i have a personality. nvm, that don't even sound right
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Nekoma
Kuroo: fast replies are so attractive like damn, I got your attention like that
Kai: the moon is proud of you, and so are the stars, and so is the sun. the aliens are watching you, a little confused about your life choices but are proud of you too
Yaku: show me where i asked *holds map*
Yamamoto: FUCKEJDJWJSJW I STUBBED MY TOE
Fukunaga: i don't feel like dealing with my mental problems so i'll just shit post online
Kenma: my brain be so happy and then boom, life and school
Lev: sometimes i think, but then i forget
Shibayama: mfs think i got options but the only options i got are the 10 voices in my head
Inuoka: when they compliment something you're insecure about <3
Teshiro: you may consume 3 beans but no more. they will know if you consume more
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Fukurodani
Yukie: how do i stop unironically say bro, bruh, dude
Kaori: physically i am human, but mentally i am a frog guitar
Washio: "you're so quiet" THANKS, i've actually been talking this entire time, none of you have listened to anything i've said
Konoha: I have to keep reminding myself that not everybody thinks i'm funny. they're wrong for that tho
Bokuto: do you ever just russian doll? *multiplies*
Akaashi: life's fun until you have no motivation to do anything
Komi: normalize being stupid
Sarukui: I'm fine until i see a group of people my age
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Shiratorizawa
Ushijima: *still uses pinky promise as a legitimate foundation of trust*
Tendou: what part of "you have two weeks to do this assignment" didn't I understand. i get on my nerves
Semi: do you ever kin a song
Yamagata: sick of people who walk slow in school hallways
Reon: people with clean handwriting are pretty, people with messy handwriting are pretty. no, i do not compare, everyone's valid
Shirabu: not now sweaty, mommy's cyberbullying
Kawanishi: hot pockets sandwich, 427 sandwiches, other hot pockets, hot pockets with more fucking hot pockets, 100% more hot pockets
Goshiki: shit, i got cyberbullied
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Inarizaki
Kita: sick of people valuing grades over mental health
Aran: i got 99 problems and being able to focus could solve at least 73 of them
Akagi: that feeling when you, you're just a doormat
Oomimi: mfs be like "ass or tits", mf, some affection
Atsumu: Atsumu asks you on a date, do you accept? say yes
Osamu: if you want to kiss and dance in the rain with me, marry me
Suna: maybe i won't wake up tomorrow. yeah, i hope not
Ginjima: bitches be like "just be yourself" bitch, i don't know who i am
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friendofhayley · 3 years
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I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.
Sterek (Teen Wolf)
1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k
Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.
But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.
This can’t be normal.
2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k
“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.
Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.
“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”
3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k
Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.
Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.
“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”
4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k
Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.
Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.
This is not going according to plan.
Larry (One Direction)
5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k
It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.
Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.
When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.
6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k
Louis sighs.
“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”
“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.
7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k
Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.
Back then.
8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k
“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.
Winteriron (MCU)
9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k
"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"
The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."
Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"
10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k
All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.
He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.
11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k
Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.
Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.
Geraskier (The Witcher)
12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k
"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."
What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.
13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k
Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.
14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k
Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.
He's 100% proven wrong.
15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k
Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.
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snarksandkisses · 4 years
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What I think about COVID-19 this morning - Malia Jones, PhD, MPH
What I think about COVID-19 this morning
March 5, 2020
 Maybe I'm the closest thing you personally know to an infectious disease epidemiologist. Maybe not--I'm not an expert on this virus by any stretch, but I have general knowledge and training from studying epidemics that is applicable, so here are my thoughts. 
 First and foremost: we are going to see a tremendous increase in the number of US cases of COVID-19 in the next week. This is not because of some new pattern in the spread of the disease, but rather due to a major change in the requirements to be tested. Until yesterday, if you had flulike illness but had not recently traveled to China, Italy, South Korea, or Iran, you could not be tested. This is just the way healthcare works, you get tested if you meet the case definition and the case definition included travel.
 As of yesterday, you can be tested if you are sick and have a doctor's order to be tested. So expect things to feel a lot more panicky all of a sudden. We will see hundreds or thousands of new cases as a result of testing increases.
 Second: is that panic legitimate? Sort of. This is not the zombie apocalypse. The death rate of 30 deaths per 1000 cases is probably a wild overestimate. (The denominator is almost certainly wrong because it is confirmed cases--and we only confirm cases when we test for them). That said, even at 3 per 1000 cases, this would be a big deal. A very big deal. By way of comparison, the death rate for influenza is between 1 and 2 in 1000 cases. So, yeah. Roughly 0x to 30x worse than a huge global flu pandemic? That's a problem.
 Unlike flu, COVID-19 is not *particularly* dangerous for children, so that’s some happy news. It is dangerous for older adults and those with lung conditions, so we need to be extra careful to protect those populations from exposure. 
Also, for millions of Americans, getting any serious illness requiring a hospitalization is a major problem because they can't pay for it. And our health care system is probably going to struggle to keep up with it all. And with China basically closed, our global economy is going to take a huge hit and we'll feel the shockwaves for years. Those are real concerns.
 What can we do? Our focus should be on *slowing down the spread* of this disease so that we have time to get caught up. Here is my advice:
 1. Wash. Your. Hands. Wash them so much.
The current best guess is that coronavirus is transmitted via close contact and surface contamination. A very small study came out yesterday suggesting that the virus causing COVID-19 is *mostly* transmitted via contact with contaminated surfaces.
I have started washing my hands each time I enter a new building and after being in shared spaces (classrooms especially), in addition to the standard practice of washing after using the bathroom and before eating. Soap and water. Hand sanitizer also kills this virus, as does rubbing alcohol (the main ingredient in hand sanitizer).
 There is no need to be obsessive about this. Just wash your hands. A little bit more effort here goes a long way. 
 2. Don’t pick your nose. Or put your fingers in your mouth, on your lips, or in your eyes. Surface contact works like this: you touch something dirty. Maybe it's an elevator button. Virus sticks to your hands. Then you rub your eye. Then you touch your sandwich, and put the sandwich in your mouth. Now there is virus in your eyes and mouth. See?
 You may be thinking, but I don’t pick my nose because I am an adult! An observational study found that people sitting at a desk working touched their eyes, nose, or lips between 3 and 50 times per hour. Perfectly normal grown-ups, not lowlifes like my friends.
 2a. There was one note that came out suggesting that face masks actually promote surface contamination because you're always adjusting them--i.e., touching your face. I don’t know if that’s true. But face masks should not be worn by the public right now, unless you are the person who is sick and you're on your way to or actually at the doctor's office. The mask’s function is to prevent spit from flying out of your mouth and landing on things when you cough or sneeze. It flies out of your mouth and is caught in the mask instead. If you are the person who is sick and not on the way to the doctor, go home. Let the people who really need them have the masks. Like doctors.
 [ETA on 3/6/2020 honestly people I am getting so much push back on the mask recommendation!! The world is running low on masks. If everyone wants a mask so they can feel ok about keeping their Daytona Beach Spring Break plans and then hospitals in India can't buy them anymore, shame on us.]
 Coronavirus does not appear to be airborne in the sense that doesn't remain floating around freely in the air for a long time, like measles does. You are probably not going to breathe it in, unless someone is coughing in front of you. If someone is coughing in your face, feel free to tell them to get their ass home and move 6 feet away from them. (Yeah I know, if you have a toddler, you're screwed.)
 3. Sanitize the objects you and lots of other people touch, especially people outside your family--like door handles, shared keyboards at schools (brrr), salad bar tongs, etc. Best guesses are that the virus can live on surfaces for 2-48 hours, maybe even longer, depending on the surface, temperature, and humidity.
 Many common household cleaning products will kill this virus. However, white vinegar solution does not. You can make your own inexpensive antimicrobial spray by mixing 1 part household bleach to 99 parts cold tap water. Spray this on surfaces and leave for 10-30 minutes. Note: this is bleach. It will ruin your sofa.
 4. "Social distancing." You're going to get so sick of this phrase. This means keeping people apart from one another (preferably 6 feet apart, and sanitizing shared objects). This public health strategy is our next line of defense, and its implementation is what will lead to flights and events cancelled, borders closed, and schools closed.
 For now, you could limit face-to-face meetings, especially large ones. Zoom is an excellent videoconferencing option. If you spend time in shared spaces, see #1. Ask your child's school about their hygiene plan, if they haven't already told you what it is. If I were in charge of a school setting, I'd be hand sanitizing the s*** out of the kids' hands, including in and out of each space, and taking temperatures at the door. I am planning to email our school nurse right after this to ask if they need my volunteer help cleaning surfaces.
 If you can telecommute, do that a little more. If you are someone's boss and they could do their job remotely, encourage them to do that. 
 Avoid large gatherings of people if at all possible, especially if they are in an area with cases OR places that lots of people travel to. If you attend group events and start to feel even a little bit sick within 2 to 14 days, you need to self isolate immediately. Like for a tiny tickle in your throat.
 5. All your travel plans are about to get screwed up. If you are considering booking flights right now, get refundable tickets. ETA: most trip insurance will not cover cancellations due to a pandemic. Look for "cancel for any reason" trip insurance. 
 Considerations for risks related to that trip you’re planning: how bad would it be if you got stuck where you are going for 3 to 6 weeks? How bad would it be to be isolated at home for 2-3 weeks upon your return? Do you have direct contact with people who are over 70 and/or have lung conditions? If those seem really bad to you, rethink your trip, especially if it is to a location where there are confirmed cases. 
 6. If you are sick, stay home. Please! For the love of all that is holy. Stay at home. Your contributions to the world are really just not that important.
 7. There is a good chance some communities will see school cancelled and asked to limit non-essential movement. If someone in your family gets sick your family will almost certainly be isolated for 2-3 weeks (asked to stay at home). You could start stocking up with essentials for that scenario, but don't run out and buy a years' worth of toilet paper. Again, not the apocalypse. 2 weeks' worth of essential items. Refill any prescriptions, check your supply of coffee, kitty litter, and jigsaw puzzles.
 8. I do want to remind everyone that when public health works, the result is the least newsworthy thing ever: nothing happens. If this all fizzles out and you start feeling like ‘Wah, all that fuss for nothing??’ Then send a thank-you note to your local department of public health for a job well done. Fingers crossed for that outcome.
 9. Look, I think there are some positives here. All this handwashing could stop flu season in its tracks! We have an opportunity to reduce our global carbon footprint by telecommuting more, flying less, and understanding where our stuff comes from. We can use this to think about the problems with our healthcare system. We can use this to reflect on our positions of privilege and implicit biases. We can start greeting each other using jazz hands. I'm genuinely excited about those opportunities.
 There is a lot we don't yet know about this virus. It didn't even exist 90 days ago. So stay tuned, it is an evolving situation. The WHO website has a decent FAQ. Free to email or text with questions, and you can forward this to others if you think it's useful.
 May the force be with you. 
 Malia Jones, PhD, MPH
 I’m an Assistant Scientist in Health Geography at the Applied Population Laboratory at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I study social contact of humans, and spatial patterns of infectious disease, among other things. 
   P.S. The number one question I am getting is, did you really write this? Yes. I wrote this. 
 I didn't write it for professional purposes, so I didn't put my work email on it. It was really just meant to be an email to my friends and family in advance of what I expect to be an escalation in the panic level. But it was apparently welcome information and went viral on FB. I've decided not to edit out the swears, even though I wrote this with a much smaller audience in mind. 
 Thanks for checking your facts! Go science! 
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Text
And In Darkness, I Stand- Chapter 4
Kallus' leg is never quite the same after Bahryn. But then again, neither is he.
1  2 3 4 5
4. Yavin IV
“Captain Kallus.”
Kallus turns the best he can, gripping the handle of his cane as he does. Zeb is making his way over, his tall frame parting the flow of traffic in the hall.
“Kal,” Zeb amends with a smile, brushing a hand against the small of Kallus’ back. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Kallus nods, and grimaces. “I don't suppose I can use my position to get out of physical therapy?”
“No. I’ll still carry you there myself if I have to.”
Heat flames across Kallus’ cheek, but there’s nothing he can say to defend himself. His daily routine has been centered around his recovery for weeks, despite his protestations. On his first day back, he reported to Command for an extra few hours rather than going to the medbay, which caused a small uproar among the likes of Hera and Zeb. The resulting situation was a lecture from Zeb and the entire medical staff, as well as a warning from Command as to where his priorities should lie.
But aside from the initial excitement, Kallus has settled in quite well. He has his own post and a small command to his name. He’s been forgiven by the Rebels in an official capacity, and has learned when to ignore the snide comments made by his less-forgiving compatriots. For the most part, his job is normal and steady- he’s in the company of fellow spies most of the time, but everyone on Yavin is well acquainted with danger, regardless of their roles within the Rebellion. He nearly fits in.
It would be better if he were not so limited by his physical ability. He cannot stand on his leg unsupported, so he has been using a cane constantly, save for a few small excursions across his quarters, which, so far, have been painful and short-lived.
Suddenly, Kallus is bad at keeping himself out of trouble, between his efforts to heal and his apparently lacking self-care habits. This is yet another change he attributes to rebel influence, but he rather likes it, even if he is adjusting to this new life slowly.
“You’re improving and you’re not going to stop now,” Zeb growls. He may as well be threatening Kallus, who minds this fact very little. His hand tightens on his cane.
“I know,” Kallus breathes, and drops his gaze. His next step forward is slightly unsteady, but he’s overly aware of Zeb watching him closely and that his friend is fully prepared to catch him should he trip.
Kallus hasn’t fallen in weeks. He can make it all the way across base without needing to rest now. The medics say the fracture is largely healed, and he thinks he must have made some kind of progress over the last few weeks.
“Are you coming with me?” Kallus tries not to sound too hopeful or excited; Zeb usually accompanies him to the medcenter for checkups and therapy, if only to ensure that Kallus himself actually attends.
“Of course.” Zeb glances at him. “‘Til you say you don’t want me there.”
“I do,” Kallus affirms, too quickly, and tries to discern if he’s blushing again. His face still feels hot.
They make their way down to the medcenter, where the staff greets him and Zeb both by name. The journey takes longer than he’d like, and Kallus tries not to count how many people pass him. It’s mid-afternoon by then, and his leg has started to twinge, although he turns away from Zeb and bites the inside of his cheek to get through the moments of pain.
Zeb steadies him as he strips off his jacket and boots, clutching Kallus’ left elbow. Kallus shoots him a grateful smile. He wobbles on one leg, unsteady, and he knows he will not fall.
“Ready?”
It’s not Zeb who asks, but a nurse. Cida Amada, who was one of the first people he got to know during his stay in the medcenter. She barely looks old enough to have such responsibility, with her shy smiles and soft tones, but she and Kallus took a liking to each other. They made each other cry, he lost in frustration and agony, and she hurt after discovering his tendency to yell and swear when in crippling pain. Yet once he had apologized, their relationship improved, and Amada became his primary caretaker, which most predominantly includes cajoling him into showing up for his appointments.
She and Zeb seem to adore each other for this fact. Kallus can only pretend he hates it so much.
He nods, his mouth suddenly dry, and she reaches out to take his hand. He lets her, and Cida smiles at him, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds.
“It’ll feel better later even if it’s uncomfortable right now, Alexsandr. How have the last few rotations been?”
She is gentle and kind. Forgiving, too, which is the strangest of offerings he’s even been gifted in his life. Kallus mostly expected to be dead by now, rather than guided through a half-stocked medbay by a medic exclusively trained by war doctors. Cida genuinely likes him, too, which is odd. Both Hera and Zeb had to assure him of this fact, though Kallus is sure she wouldn’t be capable of pretending otherwise. He first had doubts about the girl’s abilities as a liar since she apologized for taking a blood sample from him. She is too good to lie, which, he supposes, is why he’s a former Imperial-turned-spy, and she is a rebel war doctor.
Cida stretches his legs and guides him through a few exercises that should be simple but prove exceedingly difficult for Kallus. He has to touch his toes. Climb stairs. Walk 2 meters with support on either side. He grits his teeth and sweats through it, mumbling curses that Cida and Zeb pretend not to hear when he inevitably falters.
His hands shake for an hour afterward. Kallus showers and lies on his bunk, exhausted.
His leg feels better than it did before.
 Had he stayed with the Empire, Kallus would have received higher quality medical care.
He might not be stuck with a limp and a cane. 
First, he would have needed to swallow his damned pride and ask for treatment, and then the initial break would not have affected him for the rest of his life. The Imperial meddroids would have returned him to normal in a matter of days, if not weeks, and Thrawn would have never rebroken the leg, even if Kallus had pursued life as Fulcrum. The Empire is equipped with better resources and better training.
But he didn’t ask for help, not upon his return from Bahryn nor any of the painful days after. Konstantine didn’t even look up at him. If anyone noticed he was uncomfortable or weaker, they politely looked away and saved that topic of discussion for when his back was turned. Kallus was alone in caring for himself, and it was thus unimportant to everyone in the Empire, including him. He adopted the same attitude regarding his own health.
Hera had caught him when he collapsed, after Atollon. Cida cried when he cried because she hated seeing him in pain. Zeb has been there for him in more ways than he can count.
Sometimes, Zeb calls him Alex. He hasn’t had that nickname since he was a little boy- his parents never bothered with it and he had few friends by the time he entered the Imperial Academy.
Zeb is the only one, in his entire life, who has called him Kal.
That’s yet another thing they share. Kallus has gleamed that Zeb never fully revealed the truth of what happened on Bahryn, even to the rest of the Ghost crew.
He does not know what would be enough to repay the Rebels. They have so little, yet they give to him, in time and effort and supplies and trust. It would be more just if these things were diverted to another, not to a formal Imperial, but they will not let him refuse their generosity.
Kallus would give his life for these people. For Zeb and the Spectres, certainly, but for those he does not know, too. For the ones who hurl dirty looks and harsh words at him in the mess and hallways, for Cida, for the other Fulcrums, for every rebel on Yavin and the galaxy beyond.
His life would not be enough, when they are the very people who have given it back to him. Kallus’ life is marred and stained and broken. He can offer the rebels service and secrets and loyalty, and he will do all he can to see them to victory. 
He wonders about that, too. He would be more confident about winning the war were he still an Imperial agent. He is a man of facts and logic, and he knows that the odds are against the rebels to prevail over the Empire.
But he believes in the rebels. Kallus believes in their cause and their people. That alone has carried them further than Kallus ever predicted.
He would give his life for them without thinking. He gives his hope and keeps his doubt and his cynicism, heavy as they are, so that they do not burden those like Pica and Leia Organa and Ezra Bridger.
Even as a rebel, being a spy still demands a certain mindset of coldness and hardness. Kallus is learning mercy, and he is learning how mercy does and doesn’t fit into his role. Draven has told him more than once that they serve the cause of the Rebellion, not its people.
Kallus is not sure he agrees. Draven has the end of the war in sight, and that is what grants Kallus peace of mind while the familiarity of Draven’s words nags at him.
Draven has also told Kallus that he is still useful, despite his leg. The General had looked at Kallus with pity while he had said it. Kallus will prove him wrong, and his heart sings with a small amount of pride with the knowledge of the difference he has made already under and to Draven’s command.
Kallus is trying to be good in his new role. He is also trying to become someone worthy of the friendship and care that the rebels have shown him.
He wants to be accepted by them. He wants to be their friend.
 “Alexsandr!”
The use of his full first name startles him, nearly as much as the alarm in Zeb’s voice does. Zeb is staring at him from across the hangar, Hera by his size. The droid, Chopper, makes some obscene noise that Kallus can only assume is scolding.
The trio is at his side quickly, and Kallus grunts as he loads the shipment onto the shuttle.
“I can do that,” Hera says. She sounds mildly scandalized, and she takes the box from his hands. Chopper wags his mechanical arm at Kallus, and emits a horrifying cackle at the indignation on his face.
“No cane?” Zeb sounds surprised, but Kallus has had a good few days. He’s permitted not to use it for short amounts of time, given that his leg doesn’t start hurting. He and Cida are hoping that this will become the norm, that he will only need his cane some days. Kallus has floated the idea of field missions once or twice already, but he’ll push for more unsupervised walking first.
“Not for a while.” It’s nearly strange not to have the cane in his hand, but he’s been making good use of his free hands for a while. Then: “General, I assure you I am very capable of doing that.”
Kallus tries to take the next box from Hera, who passes to Zeb. In turn, he holds the box over their heads, then sets it in the shuttle.
“You could hurt yourself,” Hera chides. “Let us help you.”
“Lifting a few crates will hardly send me into critical condition,” Kallus protests, but the words are weakened when Hera glares at him. Chopper laughs again. “My leg is injured, not my arms.”
“No extra weight,” Zeb reminds him, taking another box from Hera. “Don’t strain yourself.”
“It’s just-”
“We’re happy to help,” Hera interrupts. She exchanges a look with Zeb, and Kallus bites back a retort. He’s perfectly capable.
The next time he sees Cida, Kallus is sure to mention lightening the restrictions on his carrying weight. She’s willing to negotiate, at the very least, and they argue until it’s agreed that Kallus can lift, but not carry, a few kilos. He’s sure to complain very little for the rest of the session, and the nurse sends him away with a smile at the end of the day.
She tells him he’s making progress; a statement constantly echoed by Zeb. Physical therapy becomes easier and less frequent; he’s fully adjusted to using his cane, although he has started to go many days without it. At first, it’s painful- he can only endure the day without his cane if he stays in Command, but then weeks pass and he can move around base on his own. He’s outfitted with temporary mechanical braces, and he goes on his first field mission as a rebel.
The days are not bad, and the initial mission goes smoothly, as do all the ones after that.
When night falls after he returns, Kallus can barely stand, and the pain reduces him mostly immobile.
Cida worms this fact out of him after he spends two rotations chasing down a rogue informant. He had been late to see her, and stiff and quiet during their appointment.
“You’ll make it worse,” she warns him. His leg has been swelling, too. “Too much at once will only hurt you.”
“I’m useful out there,” Kallus insists, staring at his injured leg. It would be a waste if he remained on base all the time. “If I can get stronger, then I can fight.”
Cida sighs, her eyes full of worry. Kallus looks away, his heart poisoned with guilt. “If you keep doing this, you may last a few months or a cycle. After that, you could spend the rest of your life walking with pain and assistance.”
He nods once. That’s as much time as he needs, regardless of what follows.
Kallus has greater potential than what his leg allows. He could be one of the best ground fighters on base, if his body worked right.
 “Does your leg hurt?”
Kallus grunts. “My leg always hurts.” He shifts, moving his lower body as little as possible, but Zeb moves into his full view a moment later.
“You shoulda said something on way back-”
“I’m fine, Zeb.”
“Your cane-”
“It hurts with or without the cane,” Kallus snaps, then averts his eyes. Zeb’s ears flatten, and Kallus’ stomach flips.
“Are you gonna use it now?” Zeb asks quietly. They still don’t look at each other.
Kallus reaches for the offending object and thumps it against the ground. “Yes,” he mutters. That’s the only reason he got here, in some dirty corner of the base. The cane saw him back from the medbay and into the spot where he had chosen to sulk.
Apparently, the covert location wasn’t quite private enough. That, or Zeb knows him too well, because he seems to have sought Kallus out with ease. But here he is, sitting on the floor with Kallus and watching the rest of the Rebellion walk by, totally oblivious to their discussion.
“Today is a bad day,” Kallus says. That’s how he measures time- in good days and bad ones. “I’ve been having a lot of those, recently.”
“You’ve been working hard.”
“I want to go back to normal,” Kallus mutters, rolling his eyes. “I’m sick of being weak. I’m tired.” He smiles at Zeb, his lips thin and pursed. “I’m done.”
“Alex.” Zeb is imploring.”How could you think you’re weak?”
“Because I can’t walk down the damned hallway!” Kallus scoffs. “Because I have gone through all this suffering and I am not better! And all I wish is that it would end!”
“That makes you weak, does it?”
“It doesn’t make me strong, Garazeb. Not the way you think I am.”
The Lasat next to him snorts. “Kal, I have seen you walk through hell and back-”
“That doesn’t make-”
“- I know how strong you are,” Zeb finishes, talking over him. “Do you trust me?”
Kallus blanches, his heart pounding. “Of course.”
“Then believe me when I say you’re strong.”
“I’ve never seen it that way.”
The words are nearly inaudible. It’s a shamefaced confession, and Zeb stares at him with wide eyes, taking both of Alexsandr’s hands in his.
“Just because I survived doesn’t mean I’m a martyr, Zeb. Or some inspiration to look up to.”
“That’s half of one of the many reasons I care for you,” Zeb whispers, his voice so, so low. “Not because you’ve managed to survive, but because of how determined you are. It’s the stupid face you make when you’re concentrating and the way your voice gets all high when you tell me about how fine and capable you are.” Zeb chuckles, and Kallus is very acutely aware that Zeb is sitting so close to him that their thighs are touching. “You’ve always been so damn stubborn.”
“You like that about me?” Some alarmed voice in Alexsandr’s head warns him that this is barely tangential to the topic at hand.
“Yeah.” Zeb’s ears twitch, and he drops his eyes from Kallus’ wondrous stare. “Even if it pisses me off.”
“I know it does.”
“Yeah,” Zeb growls, then he deflates as he sighs. “I’ve always known that about you. Even when you were trying to kill me.” He gestures to Kallus, to his brace and cane. “Seeing you recover is another way you’re proving this to me. Your absurd relentlessness. And your strength.” He glowers at Kallus when he says the last word, as if daring him to object. “You’ve always had that.”
“Someone better would have handled it with grace.”
“Maybe.” Zeb shrugs. “You’re tough, not a saint.”
“Thank you, Garazeb.”
Zeb rolls his eyes, shoving against Kallus’ shoulder gently. “Whatever.” He clears his throat. “Maybe all this made you stronger. I don’t care if you get back to normal, or whatever you’ve dreamed up for yourself. I only want you to be happy with where you were.”
“And go to physical therapy.”
“I don’t want you to be in pain.”
“Right.”
Zeb grins. “By the way, if you didn’t want the hurt from your serious injury to go away, then you’re twice as big of an idiot as I thought you were. I have no idea what else you expected.”
“I expected for it to last a few weeks. Not the rest of my life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wishing for that.” Zeb looks up at the trees, and Kallus thinks of a burning world, razed to the ground by the Empire. Zeb didn’t come away from Lasan unscathed, he knows. “Whatever happens though, here you are, Kal. Even if all you’ve done is survive.”
Alexsandr reaches out for Zeb’s hand, and his friend takes it. Zeb’s words are muddled with affection and friendship and respect. The person Zeb describes sounds like someone Kallus can appreciate. Somebody with an iron will and a conviction for the right kind of things. Somebody worthy of love
 That night, Kallus cannot rest. He wanders the halls, on a dreadfully familiar path- the one Zeb takes him on when Kallus has to stretch out his leg. His feet carry him into the cool night air, his cane thumping against the stone after every uneven step.
Kallus searches for privacy, but he cannot make it far outside the base. There are still lights blinking from the hangars and a quiet bustle of nightlife shows that the base is still busy, but Kallus staggers along as far as he can and settles on a log under the cover of some trees.
“Can’t sleep?”
Alexsandr jumps, then he squints in the dark. Some 30 feet away is Kanan Jarrus, sitting on the forest floor with his legs folded beneath him. He appears to be meditating; his shoulder pauldrons and mask are off, and he sounds relaxed.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kallus calls. He fumbles with his cane and readies himself to stand; he’s still slightly out of breath and now he has nowhere to go.
“No.” Kanan stands instead and approaches Kallus, nimbly stepping over branches and rocks. Kallus stares up at the blind Jedi, then averts his gaze when Kanan takes a seat next to him.
They sit together in silence. Kallus doesn’t mind the company very much; he fiddles with his hands and does his best to ignore the aching in his leg.
“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” Kanan says finally. He turns to Kallus expectantly.
Kallus gives a nervous chuckle. “What is?”
“Healing.” Kanan opens his hands as if he’s referring to the whole jungle, instead. “Even with the people who love you at your side.”
Kallus opens his mouth to protest- he’s not sure who loves him, even if a few people come to mind- but the depth of Kanan’s words hit him a moment later.
“I don’t-” Kallus struggles for the right words. “I don’t believe I’m alone.”
Kanan nods slowly. “I had Hera with me every step of the way. She’s the most understanding, caring person I know.” Then, Kanan shrugs. “But it was impossible for her to understand what it was like, no matter how hard she tried. It was lonely.”
“Yes,” Kallus says slowly, exhaling.  “Even- even-”
“Zeb doesn’t understand?” He can hear the humor in Kanan’s voice, although Kallus cannot piece together why Kanan would be amused. “I think that’d be impossible unless he’d been through it, too.”
“Do you know anyone who did?”
Kanan shakes his head. “Not quite.” He smiles, and again, Kallus can’t comprehend why. “I had to find solace in other places.”
“Do you think you’re on the other side?”
“Of recovery?” Kallus inclines his head. “Yes. It’s different now.” Kanan’s smile becomes wistful. “But there’s no going back.”
“You made it through.”
“I did. And you will too. In time.”
“I want it to be over.” The confession falls from Kallus’ lips before he can help it. “I’m so tired of being in pain.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think it will ever pass.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then…” Kallus sighs. “Then I move forward with it, anyway.”
There’s no other choice. He will stay with the rebels until the end, and he will do so however he can. He could lose his leg tonight or he could wake up entirely healed tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be little change to his plans.
“I thought you’d say that.” Kanan rests his hand on Kallus’ knee. “It gets easier.”
“I know.” It has already. Maybe Zeb is right. Maybe he is strong because of what he has survived, and maybe there’s truth to Kanan’s words, too. 
“I think you’ll find someone who makes it less lonely. I believe you’ll find yourself on the other side.”
Kallus bows his head in acknowledgment, suddenly exhausted. “Zeb will be yours again, once we get back from Lothal.” Kanan’s seriousness disappears, and Kallus knows the moment has passed. He can’t help that the corners of his lips are quirking up, and Kanan seems to both know and enjoy this fact.
“You leave soon?” The thought is bittersweet; the Lothal rebels returning home again, and Zeb will leave his side.
“Three rotations.” Kanan answers. His tone has become heavy again, but the Jedi does not sound afraid.
“I wish you luck.”
The earliest sign of civilization is a healed femur.
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