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yyxgin · 3 years

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lee felix’s guide do hating you || teaser

— ♡ FIC BANNER MADE BY THE AMAZING @chogiwow !!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader genre: college au, tutor au ; fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn word count: 1.6 k (teaser) // est. 20 k full fic warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing

summary: There’s a list of things Lee Felix knew before applying for college-- and that is: 1) he really, desperately needs a degree for his grandparents to value him as an equal adult, 2) college in young adult movies seems like fun and partying and alcohol really does sound like his wettest dream, 3) he doesn’t need to work for another 4 years, which is fun and 5) he is really, horribly bad at studying.

Here’s a list of things Lee Felix, however, did not know before applying for college, and even though it’s fairly shorter, it hits you in the guts deeper, and that is: 1) studying for college means never ending chapters of insomnia and 2) he is always going to feel like the second choice for everyone.

There's one thing that Felix is really, undoubtedly good at, though-- and that is cheating. Can he cheat his way out of liking you?

taglist: @feyregels @missskzbiased @hyunyin @koishua @crispy-chan @rindomo

POSTING TIME: MAY 1ST, 2021, 2PM GMT+2 TIME

The freckled boy sitting in front of you looks at you with furrowed brows and you wonder what’s the matter with him. Is there something on your face? Are you not dressed appropriately for the occasion? I mean, it’s only a tutoring session, so you didn’t put that much effort into it, but judging from the casual outfit enveloping his body, he didn’t really try to look fancy either. So what was it with him that made him stare you down as if you had horns on your head?

“Shall we start?” he asks once he’s done staring, voice sounding determined. You wonder if he sees the hints of nervousness on your face and if he notices the way you shrink in your seat in the mention of biology, but you guess he doesn’t know you that well to know that you fear the subject as much as you fear dying.

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, scooting closer to the edge of your seat so you’re not so far away from the table. Felix-- your new biology tutor-- is sitting opposite of you and it’s quite difficult to read the text book once it’s upside down, but you don’t dare to mention it to him for a reason that’s unknown to you as well. It’s like you don’t want to overstep any invisible boundary on your first tutoring session, and telling the person that is teaching you to turn around the text book so you can actually see and learn something seems to be one of the taboos in your eyes.

You take a quick glance at the waiter that just stopped next to your booth and smile, opening up your mouth to order yourself a meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

“No-” Felix offers her with a shy smile, but you cut him off with a voice a little higher in the octaves, not wanting your tutor coming in between you and reaching your biggest goal you’ve set for yourself.

“Actually, yes. Could I please get the chicken wings? With fries?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as you can, smiling at her in politeness. You ignore the confused look Lee Felix is offering you from the other side of the table. You mentally send him a signal to tell him to mind his own business, watching the waitress leave with a nod and a polite smile.

“Okay, now we can start,” you nod at him and focus all your attention to the boy with sandy hair in front of you.

“O...kay?” he answers, obviously trying to bat away his rising confusion, because ordering yourself chicken wings on your tutoring session is prohibited now, apparently. “So,” he starts, sighing and scratching the back of his neck, “what do you not understand from this section?”

You nervously chew on the bottom of your lip. Well, that’s a sweet question, you think. It would have been much sweeter and much easier to answer, though, if you understood at least a bit from the things you’re supposed to know. You went to university with the urge to prove something to yourself, but the only thing you’re proving to yourself right now is the fact that you are actually kind of useless, when it comes to biology.

“Just like the… whole thing, actually,” you nod, trying not to look as defeated as you feel and also trying not to burst out in a manic laugh as you always do when you feel slightly nervous about anything.

“Cool, cool, yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath in, turning the textbook around and sighing, “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” you ask, confused.

Lee Felix is the top of the grade. He is the best at biology, he is the best at chemistry, he is the best at his farmacy class. You’re sure he’ll be a fine biochemist in a few years, when his college times are over. Lee Felix is the smartest boy in your biology class and you are, coincidentally, quite the opposite on this spectrum. Which is exactly why your teacher managed to make Felix tutor you in his free time. You weren’t surprised at the fact that the blonde boy agreed to this-- he was quite the sweetheart, really. All the girls in your class fawned upon the way his freckles shined in the sunlight and the way he opened the doors for older professors. He was quite the boy you would want to introduce to your parents. Not quite the one every girl goes after, but the one that you would want to settle down with after your college years are over.

So why is he, the sweet, but also smart boy that agreed to tutor you, now telling you he can’t help you?

“It’s just.. I’m not really good at this section, I mean-”

“Felix, you’re the top of the class. Of course you’re good at this section.” you mumble, gazing deep into his eyes, trying to search for an answer.

“I-” he says and takes a sharp breath in, stopping himself in continuing his train of thought and just opting to shrug, not giving you a proper response either.

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut, and that’s when you realise-- here it is again. Another person that doesn’t believe in you-- another person that needs proving that you really can do it, you just need a little push. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t think you’re smart or bright enough to pass the exams, you’re not good enough to get good grades. It’s nothing new to you, but it still haunts you just the same.

“Is it because you know I can’t do it?” you bluntly ask, sighing.

“No! No, no, I never said that-” he says, almost panicking with the way his hands fly into the air hurriedly, waving them around as if it was meant to calm you down.

“You’re acting like it, though. I promise I’m not stupid- well, maybe I am, but-”

“You’re not stupid! It’s me! I’m the stupid one here.” he says, effectively silencing you with his words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s joking, right?

“How can you be stupid when you get only the best grades? Felix, if you just don’t want to waste your time here, tell me, but don’t try to hide behind poor excuses.” you roll your eyes, feeling frustrated at the boy’s antics. Does he really think you’re that stupid that you can’t even see right through his lies?

“I cheat.”

You blink a few times as if to reset your brain, gazing at him with pure confusion written in your orbs. He cheats? No. That’s a lie. A person as good at biology as Felix can’t cheat. All his exams are on 100% and he never makes any mistakes. He’s the epitome of the smart kid. The little Einstein. The prodigy. There’s no way it’s all cheating.

“No.” you shake your head in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! Look, I genuinely, really want to help you. I really do. The thing is, though, I don’t know how to study. I make cheat sheets and I use them at every exam and every test, that’s why everyone thinks I’m super smart, but that is really not the case,” he shakes his head, staring into your eyes with his wide open in honesty, wanting you-- no,-- needing you to understand. “I would tutor you if I could, really, but I just don’t know how to,” he sighs finally, acting like he’s just given birth or ran a marathon, exhaustion written all over his face.

“So why did you offer to tutor me, then?” you ask.

He takes a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, before he speaks up again. “Well, I didn’t really want to get caught. You see, I would never turn my back to anyone. Really. So I thought I could at least try to learn something? So I could help you? But I failed, as always, so I’m just coming clean in front of you and you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The moment the last sentence leaves his mouth, you notice the apparent fear in his eyes, realising that he just shared an information with you that nobody really knows. It’s a secret he’s been hiding and keeping from everyone just to appear as the smartest one-- fooling everyone, including you. You feel even more stupid now, under his gaze. You feel played. You came to the tutoring, hoping to finally get a grip, when all you get is a person that is stepping all over the sandcastle of your fragile dreams, kicking every little piece of sand away with his lies. You know you shouldn’t feel so invested in this. You shouldn’t feel so hurt. But somehow, you still do.

“So you just told me you are lying to everyone and cheating on tests and you want me to keep it a secret from everyone?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes.” he nods, eyes hopeful. He’s been lying for the last year as if his life was depending on it and now he wants you to do the same-- keep quiet in front of everyone.

“And what do I do when the professor asks me why I’m not getting any better? Huh? Ever thought of that?” you leash out, harshly chewing on your bottom lip in nerves. “I want to pass. And I want to do it fair and square.” you get out in between your teeth.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think of that yet, but-”

“Leave.” you say, looking him sternly into his eyes.

TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC IS OPEN !! COMMENT/ASK/MESSAGE TO BE ADDED :)

POSTING TIME: MAY 1ST, 2021, 2PM GMT+2 TIME

#stray kids #skz #lee felix #stray kids au #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshot #lee felix fic #lee felix fanfiction #lee felix fluff #lee felix angst #lee felix imagine #lee felix oneshot

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tttinytrash · 3 years

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Ok fine, I caved again. Originally I said I’d at least attempt to not kidnap @shamedump‘s boys again, but their boys are so sweet (and also have to convenient distinction of not actually wanting to hurt their little reader buddy). Dumpling gave me the green light so with their blessing I’m going ahead with Shy’s final prompt for spoopy hide-and-eat with the Bad Sans Gang using Dumpling’s version of the spooky boyos. I hope I channel their personalities adequately, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Movie night with they guys was always a highlight of your week.

You all met as Archer’s castle on a regular basis to just hang out, piling into one room. Thank goodness this was a whole freaking castle, because your gang was pretty big. Despite the size of the room, the couch really wasn’t big enough for your whole group. As per usual Chain, Mage, Dusty, and Mason were crammed on the couch leaving Deca and you to nest on the floor. The plethora of cushions strewn about made that a non issue, luckily. Crash had made himself a hammock out of his own strings overhead, knitting a scarf absently as the movies served as background noise. This week, the reason the seven of you were sprawled over the couch in the first place was the horror movie marathon going on the TV across the room.

You turned away as the blood curdling screams shrieked from the speakers, the delightful sounds of the hot blonde being torn apart by the feral werewolf on screen acting as your backing track as you cried “Oh come on! That’s just gratuitous!” You laughed, entertained by the campiness buried in the gore but still refraining from watching until the wet squelches subsided.

“you ok?” Chain asked, looking you over. (You didn’t miss Mage glancing over at you either.)

“I’m good. Having a good time, but so not looking forward to the nightmares tonight.” you respond, flapping a hand as if to waft away the concern.

“scared of horrible monsters coming to get you in the night?” Mason teased, abandoning his spot on the couch to push at your shoulder and attempt to loom.

Despite the blank sockets and black tears, the goof didn’t scare you so you laughed easily. “Not like that, and you know it. Stoppit.” You started to push him off, which made him double down on the game and try to knock you over into the pillow pile.

Mage broke up the game before it turned into proper rough housing, wrapping one tendril around your waist and another around Mason’s ankle. He yanked you both off the floor, chiding “enough, you two.”

Mason ended up limply hanging upside down, clearly unabashed and jokingly making grabby hands at you.

To prevent further childishness, Mage dumped you into Chain’s lap and dropped Mason into the thickest portion of the pillow pile.

You giggled when Chain wrapped himself around you, setting his chin on the crown of your head and purring about the newfound proximity.

Deca spun around to look at you, “you get nightmares after scary movies?”

“I mean yeah, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay for a good time.” You shrug, as best you can while wrapped up in Chain’s arms.

“Y-y-you know you’re just about the best guarded human-n in the multiverse, right?” Crashed asked, setting hit knitting aside.

“Yeah, I’m well aware that anyone who wanted to get me would have to go through you guys. My brain is just dumb.” You pat the skeleton wrapped around you as best you could, which in your position was patting the thick ecto on his middle since that’s all you could reach.

His belly reacted to the attention by growling, which you could feel while being pressed into it. You could practically feel the mischief coming off Chain as he said “well, i’m plenty willing to make that more literal if you want.” To emphasize, he licked your head.

You pulled away from the intruding tongue, and Chain let you tumble away from him and back onto the floor, laughing as you squealed about him being gross and trying to fix your hair from the huge cowlick Chain had gifted you.

You noticed Dusty quietly saying something to Mason, which was a pleasant surprise as Dusty usually preferred not to speak much if at all. You asked Mason what was up, curious what made the reserved skeleton speak up.

“he’s asking if i think you being taken in would help with the nightmares. so, would it?”

“Uh... dunno. Never tried it before.” You said truthfully.

“why don’t we try it out, then. but make it a game?” Mage asked, grin quirking predatorily.

“Game?” You asked, curious to see where this went.

“yes. you run, we chase. winner gets to keep you for the night.”

“Hah! Am I player or the prize?”

Mage shrugged, “both.”

You glanced around the room and saw several hopeful gazes and a few curious ones. Crash rolled his eyes and went back to his knitting, but you couldn’t deny the puppy dog eyes you were getting from some of the others.

“Alright, game on.”

-----

Crash made a seat for himself and another for Deca high up in the canopy of the woods by the castle, which would serve as your arena for the game. (Thematically appropriate, plus no one could tumble down unforgiving stone stairs.) Crash and Deca tapped out before the game began, neither of them really wanting a guest your size. The others still seemed gung ho, so they were on the forest floor with you.

You waved your flashlight around the area, already scoping out routes, as Mage explained that a victory meant catching you, no shortcuts allowed, and stipulations about magic to keep you from getting hurt during the chase. You kinda tuned it out, instead strategizing. Not like you had to worry about limiting spells you couldn’t cast in the first place.

You got a minute head start, and your heart was pounding as you ran. 60 seconds had gone by in your mental countdown, which meant you were officially being hunted.

You were mildly nervous, but far from afraid. You did try to tamp down on the nervous feeling and instead focus on your excitement about a new game. Hopefully a more positive feeling would be harder for Mage to track.

You weren’t left alone too terribly long, as Dusty had a habit of popping up randomly, forcing you to run away with him snickering behind you. You quickly caught on that he was just there for jumpscares, which made you laugh. You weren’t totally positive where the others were for now, though. That made you more paranoid.

The first time you actually felt the game was afoot was when Mason suddenly appeared on your right and made a grab for you. You dodged the grab, and darted in the opposite direction. Being chased by Mason, you almost missed the dark chuckle in front of you. Luckily you didn’t, as your quick turn saved you from Mage’s tendril’s snapping out towards you. The realization that the tendrils were significantly harder to dodge than Mason had been made you realize Mason wasn’t actually trying to catch you, instead herding you towards Mage.

The realization that Mason was helping Mage rather than himself wasn’t surprising, but definitely amusing. You had to dodge plenty more of Mason’s divebombs, and Mage quickly caught on that you knew what was going on and actually had to chase after you now as well, rather than waiting for Mason to bring you close enough for a grab. You heard Deca laughing from high above when Mason lunged at you but missed, ending in a face plant. Good to know the two non participants were still entertained. Given this opening, you took off yet again only to be stopped by Dusty springing from a shrub.

It was no effort to get away from him, as per usual. But how did he keep finding you so easily?!

Oh, Delta. It was the freaking flashlight! You realized the bright light was all but a beacon in the dark woods. Mason had given it to you, hadn’t he? Ooh, that cheeky little-!

Fine, you could use their trick against them. You jammed the light in the crook of a tree and took of running, leaving the bulb alight. The laughter from both Mason and Mage meant they’d found your trick, but you were far from your boobytrap and felt a sense of victory.

Your skeleton sightings became fewer now, and your night vision had finally adjusted to the dim light of the moon. But it also heightened the nerves instinctual for humans in the dark. You actually screamed the next time Dusty caught you by surprise, and while you backpedalled you didn’t miss the surprised look on Dusty’s face before you felt two solid somethings wrap around from behind you and lock you in place.

You wriggled with all your might out of a pure fear reaction but stilled when you realized two things. 1) The things holding you were big, thick arms. 2) The plushness of the body you were being held to meant it was Chain.

You looked up, breathy laughter tinging your words as you said “I only saw you once this whole game, but wow did you make it count!”

Deca shortcutted to the ground beside you, while Dusty and Chain chuckled at your outburst.

“figured ambush was the way to go. picked a spot and waited for the right moment, and dusty gave me the perfect window.” Chain explained.

“did you even know he was there, dusty?” Deca asked.

He shook his head, smiling wide.

Crash seems to have been the one who called Mason and Mage that the game was over, as all three approached in a group.

“well played, chain. and you did pretty well too, human.” Mage said as he approached.

Once the trio joined, the group was left in a loose ring and you still being held by the large skeleton who’d caught you. Conversation was immediate and comfortable, reliving some of the more lively moments and near misses with glee and laughing over mistakes made. After a bit, the chatter was cut by a rolling growl from Chain’s stomach which served as a reminder as to what victory entailed.

“well, the wager was already set. we’ll go set up the sleeping arrangements and meet you back at the castle. see you later, human.” Mage said, leading the others away and leaving just you and Chain out in the cool night air.

“you ready to get in your sleeping bag?” Chain asked, adjusting his grip on you at last to a more bridal style.

“Hah, yeah. Sounds pretty comfy to me.”

Chain smiled before gently fitting your head into his mouth while you went limp to make the next few moments easier on your host. Chain started swallowing with an easy, steady rhythm and you felt yourself relax in response. This was far from your first time being taken in by one of your skeletal companions so you knew the drill. It was with a happy sigh from Chain that you finished your downward journey and slid into the more open space of his stomach. The magic around you was mildly cool but comfortable, and the softness let you sink in a bit and feel cradled and safe.

Chain’s hand pressed in from outside to steady his newly added weight and you felt the light sway as he began to walk back into the castle. You began to rub at the surrounding walls in a successful attempt to get the monster to purr, and he even started rubbing back at you with your free hand.

He did you the favor of turning his magic transparent for you once you were back in the castle. He knew you preferred being able to see people if conversations were happening, and knowing how these nights went sleep wasn’t on the itinerary just yet despite the bedding being set up and pajamas being on.

Once you host had settled where he’d be sleeping, conversations flowed and jokes were made amongst the group with little difference from before despite your seating arrangements. Eventually, Mason approached and started to lightly pester you through the barrier of magic between you two. Chain seemed more entertained by the banter than bothered, but you hadn’t missed the black puddle that formed on the floor behind Mason.

A tendril emerged, wrapped around Mason’s ribs, and dragged him in. The satisfied look on Mage’s face would have clued anyone in the group in to where the troublemaker had ended up even without seeing him be puddled. Any nonexistent doubts also would have been dashed by Mage’s hand remaining on his belly the rest of the evening.

After a while, sleep was imminent and everyone settled comfortably strewn about Mage’s room. Mage and his internal guest were of course veiled on Mage’s four poster bed while everyone else was on various cots and cushions. Even without the luxury of a king sized mattress you felt exceedingly comfortable.

“doin ok in there?” Chain asked quietly.

“Oh, peachy on my end. How ‘bout you?” You kneaded at the wall the way you knew he liked.

He purred at your attentions, rubbing back as best he could from outside. “just wondering if this nightmare cure will do you any good, but i’m feeling pretty peachy too.”

“I will say, pretty hard to feel vulnerable in here. I’ll let you know come morning.”

“good. night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, big guy.”

You both settled in, and it felt like Chain falling asleep took mere seconds. You smiled fondly at the soft sounds of his slowed breathing and his body working around you.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but wonder if the chasing game would be played again at some point.

...

Maybe next week you could watch the sequel to tonight’s movie.

#extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore #undertail vore

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eremika-forever12 · 4 years

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|| Eremika Fanfic: Remember Me!? ||

This is basically continuation from Manga plot with some changes ....you will get to know as story progresses! Do read, share & comment!

Chapter : 1

Just like any day....the sun rose from East making the whole city glow from its heat!

Just like every day everyone is back to their own chores !

Since that day of the new history of Shinganshina or to be more accurate the new Paradis....where there is no more walls, no more eldians & marliyans hatred....it was more like a new Era....Everything has just changed!

People know more about the truth with No Memory Loss....No Misconception Of Titans & Their Existence....Cause Titans Are Just A History Now Which Kids In Their Schools Learn About Their Past Existance!

6 Years....

6 Years Since He Disappeared....Vanished Just Into The Thin Air Just Like That! Leaving her alone once again in this Cruel World! He is known as humanity's Biggest Enemy Now....Who was once recognised as Humanity's Only Hope! But Something Tells Her....His Decision Changed The Whole Prespective! He Actually Changed This World....United Them To Fight Against Him! Sacrificed Himself....For The Cause Of His Own People! No Matter In Which Way But He Succeeded...Even If It Is By Being Cold Hearted Mass Murderer....She knows he was The Saviour, He Was No Monster!

But.....The Sad Part Is He Just Disappeared Like That 6 Years Back After That Rumbling Ended!

No One Noticed Him Since Then Nor His Giantic Titanic Body!

Did he deceive her all again? After making her that promise of returning back alive....wrapping around her that piece of cloth...before going for that final battle against everyone....Did he just die like that after doing so much....not even once meeting her again! Is he actually dead? Where is he? Where is Eren Yeager?

Just like any day....Mikasa starts her day thinking about him....just when her thoughts broke off hearing the powerful scream of her son....shrieking the hell out of her!

“ MOOMMM “

“Ahhh....Heyyy....” says Mikasa shocked watching that little guy running to her hurriedly with a backpack in his hand.

“ MOMMMM! GETTT ME MY FOOD HURRY! I GOTTA BE LATE FOR MY SCHOOL IF YOU JUST KEEP ON SITTING LIKE THAT! I AM HUNGRY” says the little guy with his loud voice.

“ Hush! Cant you speak a bit normally? I mean whats with all these shouting! I am not deaf!” scowls Mikasa as she gets up from the dining table.

The boy simply shrugs- Look Mom! I have no time for this....Alright! I am HUNGGRRYYY!

Ah that pout....thinks Mikasa....his cute little pout always makes her heart melt....and those Green eyes...it just reminds her of him! Thinking about him makes her Sad again!

Mikasa brings a plate full of noodles as she pushes it slightly towards the little devil on the other side of dining table.

The little guy hungrily takes the spoon out of it as he starts rolling the strands of noodles in it....and hurriedly stuffs them in his mouth.

Mikasa stares at her little boy silently observing his every features....his antics were just completely like his dad. Mikasa sighs....only if he was here! Suddenly her eyes fell on a small bruise on his forhead...Mikasa frowned....

When did he got that! Damn....did he just again fight with someone in his school yesterday!

This boy will surely make her crazy....

Mikasa glares at the green eyed little boy who was busy in gulping down his glass of water without noticing his mother's furious glare!

Mikasa in serious tone- Eli.....Look at me!

Eli looks at his mother in confusion as he stops munching his food for a moment...

Eli mumbling – Yes Mom!

Mikasa scowls- What is with that scar on your head!

Eli gasps in shock as he looks else where but not in her eyes....he surely tried to hide that thing by bringing his most of the black hair upto his forehead so that his mother wont notice that scar!

Eli nervously while fidgeting a little as he speaks in his child like voice- Errmm...Its nothing...actually...I fell on the way while returning to home so I guess Got hurt a little!

Mikasa glares- Eli...Shut up! Dont dare you lie to me! Since you got admitted to the school...I have been receiving lots of complain due to your rude behaviour towards children! So dont give me that crap! Did you fight again with someone?

Eli glares back at his mother as he says raising his voice- Rude behaviour? I am not Rude! Its not my fault if those kids of my class bumps into me intentionally just to tease me ! I am not gonna keep my mouth shut if they taunts me by calling me Monster Baby! I am gonna punch their freaking ugly face for calling me that! I had enough of it! I am not weak or Something....

Mikasa scolds him as she raises her voice- Eli! Stop it! If they taunts you....its not necessary for you to reply them back! Stop being impulsive! You cant just beat up people if they tell you something! Learn to control yourself!

Eli tries to defend himself- But...

Mikasa holds his shoulders softly- Eli listen to me!

As Eli stares with his big green eyes, Mikasa with broken voice tells him- Punching someone or beating someone wont prove you strong! I know how it feels but you gonna get adjusted to this! You dont need to start a fight with someone if they say hateful words to you! I know you are strong Eli! But you need to control yourself! Your anger wont do any good....

Eli remains mum as he softly shrugs off his mother's hand....taking his back pack on his back.

Eli calmly- I am done with my breakfast! Bye Mom!

Before Mikasa could say anything, Eli runs out of the house way to his school while Mikasa just whispers watching him running away- Bye! Just dont fall into any trouble Eli! You are the only one I have! I have lost everything in my life....I dont want to loose you!

Mikasa stares at sky scattered with clouds and the sun rays with birds flying...

Mikasa murmers as lone tear escapes from her eyes- Eren....I Wish You Were Here!

***********

Eli has been walking merrily along the way towards his school when he hears someone calling him from behind....

Eli turns around and squeals in happiness seeing the blonde hair guy with that scout uniform- Uncle Arlert!

The blond guy walks hurriedly towards him as he laughs- Its Armin!

Eli rolls eyes- oh yeah its the same thing! Arlert is also your name anyways!

Armin giggle- oh well young man ! Off to school ha? Come I will take you there!

Eli with his head high- No need! I can walk to my school myself!

Armin nods his head gently- ofcourse you can! But I have to make sure you dont fall in any trouble you know....or else your mom will be worried!

Eli frowns as he chirps in his child voice- Wait Mom asked you to follow me!

Armin nods in negetive as he nervously says- No No....Not that lately she is being really worried about you! So I thought to have a check on you....

Eli yells angrily- Heyyyy! What the hell is wrong with everyone damn it! I am not a toddler or something! I dont need anyone! I can look out for myself! I am freaking 5 years! Leave me Alone uncle Arlert ! You have your own daughter....Just look after that pathetic princess of Yours!

Saying this....Eli ran off hurriedly before Armin could follow him any further.

Armin was shocked by his reaction! He wasnt expecting such outburst! He was not told by Mikasa to follow him....he just did it cause he felt he had some responsibility towards his best friend's son after what just happened a week back in his school!

But today this out burst....he just completely reminded of HIM!

It wasnt for first time....Eli was like this anyways since he was born....stubborn & pure brat with that pathetic anger of him but he usually doesnt talk like this with him....he is really fond of his uncle Arlert & his only friend Alina Arlert....his & Annie ‘s daughter! Yes They are no more titan shifters now! That power & the curse got ended 6 years back immediately after the rumbling! They were all normal now....

Alina is 4 now....a year younger than Eli...She still didnt get admission in school yet , most probably after she turns 5....she will also start going to school and accompany Eli too...

But well right now Armin is concerned about Eli sudden outburst....did he get into an argument with Mikasa again in morning! He seemed really pissed off hearing his mother’s name!

He needs to talk to Mikasa right now....

***********

Eli was breathing heavily as he stops mid way & looks back....damn his little legs are paining now! He just ran a marathon to escape from Armin.

Aaahhh He hates just being lectured every damn time! Nobody just understands him & his point of view! His mom only thinks him of as some brat who doesnt listen to her or something! What she doesnt understand is....Eli is just tired of this daily bully of him in school by calling him some monster's child, Titan baby, illegitimate kid etc etc ! When he tries to explain this to his mom....all she tells him to not react to them! Like how the hell....why wont he react to those carzy bunch of people who simply insults him! Eli's anger just rose thinking about all these! He realises...he just ran off bit too far from his school....in some empty area with less people walking around! The area has some broken houses all around....people dont live here now much! Duh he is in no mood to walk back to his school....missing a day at school wont be any harm ,thinks Eli.

He just notices a bench a bit far.....and walks towards it & sit down!

He wants to be alone from his mother's scoldings and lectures! Eli always wondered why he didnt have a father like every other kid! He has been numerous times taunted about this by some adults in their neighbours! They simply call him Titan Baby & he hate that Word Titan! He doesnt really know what are those but once he heard some students in school talking about it....Titans were some bad ugly creatures who used to be on this land some years back! And Eli understood he was simply called those ugly creature's kid....

Once he dared to ask his mother about his own dad....but didnt get any answer from her instead he made her sad for some unknown reasons. He hates his mom to be sad or to cry! Its true his mom is strict in many ways and over protective too but Eli loves his Mom very much....just only he wishes if only she understood his feelings! Since Eli never questioned his mom about his Dad whom he never met!

Eli was lost in his thoughts as he was swinging his small legs over the bench absent mindedly....when all of a sudden he felt some one was watching him from far....Eli’s eyes travelled up infront of him as he felt alert all of sudden....

He noticed a Silhouette infront of him......on the wall ahead of that old broken house...someone is standing behind HIM!

To be continued.....

Chapter : 2 - click here

#eren yeager #eren x mikasa #eremika fanfic #eremika #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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chrsitophwaltz · 5 years

Text

MICKEY MEETS FC BAYERN (PART 4/4)

for the entire houston clownery experience click here

psa: if you’ve read the last 3 parts, then you know the drill. i just wanna add that i don’t know how coherent this is bc writing it drained me already. i typed it straight from my garbage brain so this is obviously NOT SAFE FOR WORK. if you’re brave or thirsty enough, or have holy water at the ready, then by all means please proceed.

*matthew mcconaughey voice* alright alright alright

we’ve reached the end, folks! it’s taken me longer than i thought to put this part out. mainly because my brain still can’t comprehend that this actually happened. y’all know that feeling where something happened and you just floated right through it then a few hours later when you’re all alone it hits and destroys you like a fucking trainwreck?

yeah, that’s what it’s been like.

so to recap:

friday: the team arrived. i was positioned nicely near the bus exit and my mind, body, and soul had been buzzing and ready for that moment. i had it all well-rehearsed too: niko steps out, i scream like a banshee for his name, he comes over-- with soft hair and glorious stubble and all-- to sign my shirt and take a gazillion pics. oh, and of course i try not to faint or drool all over him. it was almost fullproof. the problem? he never stepped out. he and thiago went straight to the airport for a press conference and were never in the team bus. i was ready to unleash death right then and there.

but oh well. all hope isn’t lost. i’m gonna be five rows behind the bayern bench the next day during the game anyway. got the tickets within an hour or so after sales opened. i can thirst to my heart’s content over him and his beautiful backside for two hours. and i had this huge ass sign ready, asking for his bottle. it’s bigger and brighter than my life. he CANNOT possibly miss that, right?

saturday: game day! i’ve been buzzing the entire morning and early afternoon. today’s the day! my first time inside a football (american) stadium too. and i was kinda nervous about my sign’s debut too. what if he does see it and give me his bottle? what would i do? do i manage to keep cool or do i smash it right into my eye socket in front of him? until now i still don’t know

so we go down to the stadium. my sign was getting some attention too. people, bayern fans and madridies alike, stopped me and asked what it meant (i had to sheepishly explain to random people that yes, i am indeed asking for his bottle, and no, y’all don’t wanna know why). some guy even got it on his video camera but idk what he did with it sjdfdjkfdjkfsfs

i got settled into my seat and h o l y s h i t i was so close to the pitch and the bench! all the drama? i got it! all the shirt-changing action? i got em too! and all the angry niko antics??? best believe they’re seared into my mind forever and ever!!!!

(dare i say, with full risk of sounding like a downright whore, the man’s got real juicy buns in the back oven. like, fuck me!!!! he’s fit as fucking fuck!!!!!!!! he also loves to whistle and scream instructions and mouth off to hansi on the bench. oh, and to randomly thrust his hips like nobody’s fuckin business!!!!!!!!)

(srsly niko, why do that???? GET OFF MY DAMN NECK!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! my 17-year old sister was beside me and i had to be 110% a responsible, sane adult!!!!!!! even the guy sitting behind us eventually caught on to my thirst since he saw me filming niko the whole duration of the game sddbsjfdjfnsm)

anyway, niko LOVES to hydrate and he probably finished around 4-5 bottles of water. at one point he looked over at where i was and i’m sure as h e l l he saw my sign (it was a huge ass board). but guess what? it’s like he knew just how desperate i was and kept on sexily chugging. god fucking dammit, niko!!!!

y’all know what happened to all those bottles? NOTHING! they’re just piled up on the bench never to be used again. i was right there, niko! A CRUMB! just one fuckin crumb was all i asked for!!!!!!!!!!!! he could’ve thrown that bottle straight at my fuckin face and i would’ve THANKED him

the game ended, we won, and NO BOTTLE. a bitch was sad!!! a bitch was going STIR CRAZY!!!!! the team only had one day left before they left for kansas city. i’ve been trying to get info on how to get into the practice session so i can see him and all the boys. but of course! the training session might as well be in secret because it’s invite-only!!! even the paulaner bbq event was closed. the only events that were open were the mall meet-and-greets. but those wouldn’t have niko or the rest of the boys in them.

please bear in mind again that i decided to shell out extra just to make that one day extension happen.

i had to see the entire team. i needed to experience niko up close. if i don’t get to do this now, then god knows when i’ll get the chance to do so again.

so, driven by desperation, i made a totally uninformed decision to go to the hotel at some random time the next day. ultimately, it was either the hotel or the carl lewis track. i figured the hotel would be a safer bet since i’d been there before and it was closer to the mall where the meet-and-greets would be (just in case the worst happened and i failed to catch them before they left for practice or wherever).

hotel or track? hotel.

what time? probably 8:30.

did i know what i was doing? absolutely fucking not.

but hey, couldn’t hurt, right? it was bonkers. truly bananas. but what choice did i have? in the end, i just wanted to be able to tell myself that i tried.

sunday:

i’ve been thinking about what to call this part. here’s some of what comes to mind:

1. crazy binch follows crazy idea and it works? it’s more likely than you think!

2. if you like it (i LOVED it) then you should’ve put a ring on it (I MCFUCKIN DID!!!!! in my head at least sksdjfksdfsdfh)

3. the day kathleen krüger probably wanted my head on a spike (and i don’t blame her)!

so the events from parts 1 and 2 happened. saw and greeted kathleen krüger in decent german. it was going pretty well. somewhere in there, during the sven/leon mishap, it finally happened. the moment that i’ve been waiting for. perfection!

*record scratch* eh, not really.

look, i’m 5′3 (and 1/2, i’m gonna insist on that). leon is 6′2. sven is about 6′3 or 6′4? anyway, y’all get it. they’re tall af.

and niko? a very sexy 5′9.

so in the haze of mortification and embarrassment brought about by the sven/leon mishap, i completely missed niko going out of the hotel. the binch literally had to be positioned in between sven and leon and all the other tall german people milling around the hotel. my ass had been on alert for him nearly the entire week (and let’s be real, for months) and when the moment finally presented itself, it completely flew over my head. i nearly ruined my own damn plan.

thankfully though, i’d been chatting with the bayern staff earlier and they knew that i’d been waiting this whole time to meet niko. i wondered out loud, “ugh, when is niko gonna show up he’s usually one of the earlier ones” and the guy in the red audi fcb tour polo shirt frowned and said “what? he literally just went out. didn’t you see him?”

my world literally stopped. i wanted to slap myself. my ears were ringing.

niko, already out? how could i have missed him? had he already gone up the bus???

i literally did a 360 so fast i gave myself whiplash and saw through the glass doors the man i’d been waiting forever for. he was clad in his blue coach kit of shirt and shorts. i could also swear he was glowing like an angel (probably bc of the bright sun or the product of my thirst-addled brain, idk).

there was another problem, though: he wasn’t stopping. he was going straight for the bus. and his leggies were f a s t.

and where was i? still frozen in shock inside the freaking hotel!!!!

i’m not the fastest person in the world but man, adrenaline really does work wonders! thank goodness my brain chose that moment to regain its function and spurred my body into motion. with no fucks left to give, i ran full tilt through the throng of people leisurely heading out, past the security guards who looked at me like i was insane (i was), out of the hotel and into the courtyard where there were about 50 or so fans behind the barriers who had gathered to catch a glimpse of the team.

it was like everything was in slow-mo. there was kathleen, patiently standing near the bus door and taking inventory of the players and staff before they leave. and there was niko, with literally one foot lifted to go up the first step into the bus.

my brain did a quick calculation. even with adrenaline, he’d already be up and inside the bus by the time i get to where he was. they may have let me inside the hotel, but i knew the bus was off limits. i had to stop him before he’s out of reach. and i knew that if i missed him, then that would be the absolute last time i’d see him in houston. that was my last chance.

i already had one foot dipped into the proverbial pool of shame. i was vaguely aware that i had the hotel staff stationed near the door and some fans looking at me bc of my marathon sprint antic. why not just take the full plunge, right?

so i did the only thing i could do to stop him: i screamed for him. throat open, full diaphragm, lungs out screamed: “NIKO! NIKO PLEASE!” my voice and the desperation that it was absolutely dripping with echoed within the walls of the hotel entrance.

i don’t even know the others’ reaction to that anymore, and i don’t really wanna know. all i know was that it worked! he stopped and turned around to look. and god was he. so. beautiful!!!

overjoyed that he paused, i ran straight towards him. there was a body in front of me that i barely dodged in my haste and i belatedly realized it was the team photographer taking shots of the departure. i nearly bowled him over and destroyed his expensive camera but thankfully i somehow managed to do a the matrix-esque maneuver and ducked under his arms and up again straight back to niko. the look on my face must’ve been shocking and horrific (i bet) because as i zoomed in on niko, i saw poor kathleen just behind him, still near the bus door, go tense with her eyes as big as saucers.

look, i understand. if i were the team manager of a popular football team, and some woman was running straight for one of my charges, with A Certain Look on her face, and with the bus door wide open, i’d be worried af. she probably thought i was gonna attack niko (somewhat true, but not in the way she thought...or was it?) and/or infiltrate the team bus. my intentions were pure (ish), of course, but my face didn’t reflect that.

the Queen knew martial arts and could’ve karate-kicked me off the face of the earth and away from niko, but she didn’t. so thank you, kathleen. and i apologize.

safe from kathleen’s wrath (for now), i turned my full attention to niko. i was finally in front of him!!!!! my dream had finally come true!!!!!!!!!!!

my brain and my soul were trying to leave my body and i wasn’t really 100% percent in the moment, but even with the little presence of mind i had left it was too much to bear. niko looked a bit perplexed, like i might attack him or something (with the way i looked, ran, and shouted like an animal i totally get it), but still managed to look relaxed, open, and friendly. he looked at me expectantly and i felt my mouth move to ask for an autograph and my hands give him my cardboarded jersey and sharpie. i wasn’t in control of my body anymore but thank god it knew exactly what i wanted.

niko, a true angel sent down from the heavens above, gracefully took my shirt and sharpie. i’m pretty sure my mouth was wide open and probably had some drool hanging off, and i could feel kathleen’s stare boring holes into the side of my head. as he was signing it, my last few brain cells were roasting.

his hair was soft and ungelled, and was damp (he looked like he recently just came out of the shower) and as his head was bent down, That Stray Lock of Hair flopped into his forehead. it nearly made me pass tf out!!! the sun was also shining brightly and his stubble was already silvery (thanks to bayern’s season of clownery!) so when the light caught it, it literally shone. each strand was literally p e r f e c t i o n. perfect length, perfect texture (from the looks of it; i didn’t dare touch no matter how much i wanted to bc thankfully i still had one fragile shred of dignity left, and i’m sure kathleen would’ve brought out the shotgun), perfect everything. i was about to have a coronary right then and there.

i’ve thought a lot about what i wanted to say to him if i did get the chance to meet him and talk to him. i remembered all the highs and lows of last season and as he finished signing my shirt, i thanked him and said “good luck, niko. and don’t listen to everything they say; you’ll always have people to stand behind you and the team no matter what.” at least that’s what i thought i said. i don’t really remember bc i was half spaced out. but i must’ve said something to that effect bc he looked up from what he was doing and gave me a big, and dare i say, relieved (?), smile. god, his eyes. they were so green. and soft. and really, really kind.

he was probably surprised that i said that to him, what with my earlier crazed stunt. but of course, ever the gentleman, he said “thank you so much” G O D!!!! HIS ACCENT!!!!! if you haven’t heard him speak in english yet, or just speak at all, now’s the time to google that shit. it’s deadly af on video, but goddamn, like everything else about him in person, it’s truly something else live.

mercifully, when he gave me back my shirt and pen, i still had enough life left in me to ask for a picture before i finally passed out. i never would’ve forgiven myself if i forgot!!!

me: thanks again, niko. is it alright if we take a picture?

niko: sure, of course! (god i love him; also, he loves to say “of course” for some reason sjkdhfdfjsdkfh)

so i had my shirt and sharpie in my left hand, and was trying to work my phone with my right hand. niko sidled up real close to my left side and HOLY FUCKING SHIT. he was so warm. and his arm was f i r m. he was leaning really close and my brain was short-circuiting from trying to memorize every single detail and trying to work my phone camera.

(note: my lock screen is niko drenched in beer after they won the bundesliga. thankfully, i turned off my phone’s auto lock just the night before. imagine if he saw me trying to unlock my phone with his wet self plastered on my screen. i never would’ve survived the shame.)

as i was skin on skin with niko, my organs were literally failing. my hands were shaking and sweating, and my camera just. wouldn’t. set. on. photo. it went to video, to slow mo, to god knows what else. it was already getting embarrassing and i was mumbling apologies to niko bc i was sure i’d already taken more than enough of his time. and i haven’t forgotten that kathleen was still there! still staring at us, at me, and witnessing every single mortifying thing!!!!

niko, literally heaven itself incarnate, was so patient though and just chuckled. oh. fuck. me. his chuckle. y’all know his voice is deep af, right? and you know that certain r a s p that comes with it. well, fuck. he did this deep ass raspy chuckle that went straight down to my loins!!!!! christ on a bike!!!! my inner whore was literally about to jump out!!!!! i’ve fantasized about hearing it in person for so long but jesus fucking christ I WASN’T READY. ALL THIS TIME AND MY BODY STILL WASN’T READY!!!! AND I’M DAMN SURE IT WILL NEVER BE READY!!!!!!!!! NO ONE IS READY FOR THIS ATTACK!!!!!!!!

g o d. anyway, he finally took pity on me. he chuckled (i’m on the brink of death here!!!) and reached for my phone to help me take the goddamn photo. he set it on photo (freaking finally, thanks niko) and we posed for the photo. hell, he was so close again. while i tried to smile and look somehow decent, i just had to take away as much detail as i could before we parted.

1. i already said this, but his h a i r. so soft. and houston was freaking humid. while mine was literally about to turn into a bird’s nest from the humidity, the man just couldn’t look fugly if he tried!!! he literally had NO FRIZZ. damn niko, tell me your secret!

2. his stubble was SO CLOSE. every strand? PERFECTION. no words could adequately describe it. and holy shit, his jawline and cheekbones. if i touched it i could literally lacerate my goddamn hand. and he had no pores??? fucking sexy cryptid

3. his c h u c k l e (he wasn’t chuckling anymore, but that shit stays with you till the end of time)

4. HIS S C E N T.

okay. i have a scent kink. i know. TMI. like this whole write up is one big banner for too much fuckin information. but holy shit. HOLY S H I T. until now i still don’t know how to fully describe, and i probably never will succeed in fully conveying what it was truly like (and if my brain embellished some of it; i was really too far gone to know anything anymore), but fuck. f u c k. he wasn’t wearing perfume or cologne, i’m sure of that. nothing too artificial that stood out to my nostrils. probably bc they were going to train under the houston sun and spritzing was wasted and unnecessary. but remember that he was fresh from the shower, so that was basically his main scent. it was very nice, very crisp, very clean. basically, sexy as hell. classy. panty-melting!!!! hell, i don’t know!!!! you know what i mean!!! idk if it’s from the hotel toiletries (if it was, good job post oak hotel!) or if it’s his own (then i need to know niko! what products do you use???). but yeah. clean and crisp. d***y supreme.

and there was also something else. it must’ve been his natural scent. and god. GOD!!!! a bit woodsy (?) and quite sweet. i’ll stop there before i say something that REALLY crosses the line.

so my thumb moves, and we take the photo. ONE FREAKING PHOTO. that’s all i managed. i wasn’t able to look at it until my uber ride to the mall later on, and i really would’ve liked more to take with me and stare at when i’m....lonely. but it was magically HDR, and i looked passable. and niko. again: perfection!!!! now that i know what he’s like in the flesh, nothing else will ever come close. but this does come quite close.

after the photo was taken, i manage to squeak out another “thanks.” niko smiled again (kill me one last time, why don’t you) and squeezed my arm lightly before saying goodbye and finally going up the bus. kathleen could breathe a sigh of relief now.

i don’t know how long i stood there. surely not that long since i still got to take pics with serge, manu, and lewy. but it did feel like forever and i haven’t shaken myself out of it. as i’m writing this, exactly one week later after it happened, i still haven’t shaken myself out of it. i don’t think i ever could.

i’m just thankful to whichever deity made this happen. my houston trip was finally complete (i haven’t met everyone yet at that point, but i just somehow knew deep inside that it would all work out). i got what i came for and more. my extension was not only worth it, but completely priceless. i’ll treasure this whole day and that little moment i got with niko for the rest of my life. that’s for sure.

just to end this, i just wanna say something. i know this was one whole crazy and thirsty post, but seriously. he’s a really nice man. a good man. it wasn’t for more than a few minutes at most, but it felt like forever in my mind. and in that short moment, i just knew he tries his best. i’m a true blue niko stan but even i know he made mistakes. i’m clearheaded enough to acknowledge that. but he tries, and he succeeded. and no matter how calm and cool and collected he always appears to be, you can still see how much it all affects him. hell, he literally grayed in front of our eyes in less than a year. his eyes were a little less bright at the end of the season as compared to his presentation last july. when i gave him that little message of support, i literally saw the relief in his eyes and how much he appreciated it. he and the team have been through quite the ordeal last season, and there are no guarantees it will be easier this time around.

you don’t have to like him, you know. but please. a little basic human respect still goes a long way.

there, i said my piece. and it’s done! thank you, fc bayern, for being so nice and game and all-around wonderful. thank you, kathleen krüger, for staying calm long enough to let me have my moment with niko. and thank you, niko, just for being... you. now here’s the ONE picture i’ll treasure for the rest of my life:

#here it is!!!! it sounds like bad fanfic but it's been so surreal and this is really what it felt like for me don't judge me too harshly pls #niko kovac #niko kovač #fc bayern #bayern munich #fcb #*my crappy shit #mickey meets fcb #my god it's finally done #i'll never do it justice but i really tried #g o d someone just scrape my carcass off the floor thanks #i still can't function properly and i don't think i ever will #on july 21st in the year of our lord 2019 i finally met the love of my life and since then my life has never known peace!!!!!!!!!#B Y E!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#also excuse the typos i'm so drained i can't even proofread anymore

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itschimmychimchims · 5 years

Text

Etched – Part 10

♡ jimin x reader

♡ smut, mafia!au

♡ Just kind of plot thickening

♡ Sorry for the long wait!!!!!!!!

—

You find out a terrible secret.

–

—

“What do you wanna be when you grow up, Jimin?” It’s hazy. My voice sounds different.

“I don’t know, I kinda wanna dance.” A black haired boy called Jimin shrugged. He was talking to me.

“But your dad doesn’t like you dancing.”

“I don’t really care about what my dad thinks.” The boy scoffed. His eyelashes touched his cheeks as he blinked. He turned to me. “What about you?”

“I don’t know either.” I seemed to ponder over the question for a while before answering. “I just want my dad to love me a bit more.”

“Why don’t you think he loves you?” The boy asked, his face gentler yet more curious.

“I overheard the other day... he said I wasn’t his daughter-“

Jimin’s face started to blur, and so did my voice. The conversation ebbed away and it was as if I was walking away from the scene - it was now distant from me. But as I walked out of the darkness and back to consciousness, it was as if a lock had been turned. I could piece together my lost memories, as if they’d never been gone.

They flooded my mind, overwhelming me. I remembered everything. The explosion, my parents arguing, me running to school... and me being flung from the car after my mother told me she loved me and she needed me to trust her. The last thing I heard before I closed my eyes was the loud explosion of the car as it sped away. I remembered it all.

I woke up, startled, panting as if I’d ran a whole marathon. I tried to move but I was rooted somehow. My eyes trailed down to my body, and I realized my limbs tightly strapped to a chair with leather straps. The more I struggled, the more they dug into my skin painfully.

“Princess, you’re awake.” I heard a voice from behind me. I craned my neck to look backwards, seeing Jimin bound in a similar fashion. Another rush of emotion consumed me, and my chest ached. I remembered him too. The conversations we had on my rooftop, him sneaking me a sip of whiskey and me absolutely hating it. And the night before my mother died, he had kissed me on that very rooftop and I ran back to my room, heart fluttering.

“Yeah, Jimin, I’m awake.” I responded, my voice hoarse. “Jimin... I- I remember.” Silence greeted me for a few moments before Jimin spoke again.

“What do you remember?” He asked carefully.

“April 14th, 2007, that was the first time you taught me how to ride a bike. I came to you crying again because my dad refused to teach me.” I mumbled. “And April 14th 2009, you kissed me on my rooftop. I ran back to my room not saying a word because I was so nervous. That was the last time I saw you before that day I lost my mother.”

“Oh god, you really do remember. Oh thank god, princess, finally.” Jimin sighed. I could hear he was happy. I was happy but the feeling slowy faded as I remembered our current situation.

“Jimin, where are we?”

“Your father’s base.” Jimin’s voice hardened, and I imagined his jaw clenching as he said it.

“What? But why-“ The sound of a metal door opening interrupted my question. My head looked up to see my dad walking in, a stone cold look on his face. His eyes looked dark and wild with a dangerous whirl of emotion.

“Dad, what the hell is going on?” I struggled against my restraints, demanding for answers. “Why the hell did you restrain me and Jimin?”

“Don’t call me ‘dad’.” He sneered. “You’re not my fucking daughter.” The memory came back to me. I did overhear a conversation between him and my mother - and that’s when he started to distance himself from me.

“Dad...” Tears welled up at my father’s gaze - or the man I’d recognized as my father. It all made sense the more I thought about it. He didn’t care. All those weeks I was kidnapped by Jimin, he didn’t have a reason to save me. It was definitely more dangerous with Jimin. He expected me to die.

“I had my suspicions. The night of the rebel attack, you left early.” Jimin hissed. “You’re colluding with them, aren’t you, Kwon?”

“Doesn’t take an idiot to know that now.” My father scoffed.

“They all have something against you, so it’s convenient for me.”

“Why!” I shouted, filling up with rage and disappointment of being lied to and manipulated. More than anything, I felt more alone than ever. I’d lived a lie for years on end.

“Because your mother was a whore!” Kwon yelled. I’d never seen him so angry that his veins bulged from his neck. His eyes were cold and distant, holding not even a fraction of warmth. “She had an affair with someone in White Mist, and bore you, their child.”

“I’d accepted it at the start, but whoever he was, he reached out and wanted to keep you. How dare he? And your mother hid his identity so fucking well.” Kwon sneered, toying with his gun. “So, fuck it, my hatred for White Mist grew so much. Even my old friend Park hid his identity. So much for loyalty. So I vowed to bring them all down, and I did - or so I thought for a while.”

“Y/N was innocent. She had no part to play in this, she doesn’t deserve to get hurt.” Jimin snarled from behind me.

“She was borne from sin. Disgusting. I could never love a child that is not mine.” Kwon spat and my heart ached, even knowing he wasn’t my father. I’d believed and made excuses all my life to pardon his lack of love - searched for it in meaningless actions - only to be slapped in the face with the harsh reality. My heart ached for a whole different reason once pieces started to click in my head.

“If you orchestrated the takedown of White Mist Clan...” I mumbled in shock quietly. “You were the one that killed mom. You caused the explosion. You almost... killed me.”

“She had exhausted her use. I’d simply instigated the rebels to attack us, so I had reason to end Park by my own hands. I didn’t expect you to survive, though.” Kwon huffed. I was absolutely disgusted.

“You’re a fucking monster.” I hissed.

“I should have killed you from the start.” Kwon spat back at me. “I can’t even look at you.”

Just then, Kwon was interrupted by a loud knock on the door behind him. I could feel Jimin shift behind me; his silence previously was unsettling. The door swung open to reveal a black-haired man whose eyes were darker than night. His lips curved downward, almost as if he was sad.

“Ah, Taehyung.” Kwon greeted gruffly. “I need to get out of here, I can’t stand being in here. Take care of them.”

“Yes sir.” The man called Taehyung responded. His voice somehow complemented his dark outward appearance - as if it was smooth black velvet being pulled across a smooth floor. It was like chocolate and honey was mixed together.

“Taehyung.” Jimin spoke up. His voice was soft and held a lot of emotion. He knew this man. “What are you even doing with this bastard...” The man called Taehyung didn’t answer him, but instead walked over to me. I instinctively tensed up, pushing myself against the chair and restraints.

As he got closer, I noticed he didn’t seem to be pulling out any knives, guns or weapons. I was still on guard though. He bent down to study my face at eye-level - his features contorting in slight confusion. Taehyung was even more alluring up close. His features mimicked a comic book character - almost unreal in their proportions. His dark hair fell a little long over his eyes, making him look older, but up close, he didn’t seem much older than me.

“Taehyung, don’t hurt her.” Jimin said softly. “It’s all on me.”

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Taehyung finally spoke, breaking out of his reverie. “And neither am I going to hurt you.” I could feel Jimin shift in confusion.

Slipping a knife out of his pocket, Taehyung cut the binding restraints off of my wrists and ankles, and did the same with Jimin’s. When we were free, Jimin quickly sprung into a slightly more defensive position around me.

“What’s the meaning of this, Taehyung?” Jimin asked cautiously.

“She’s... my sister.” Taehyung replied hesitantly, his eyes never once leaving my face. There was a long silence before anyone said anything.

“So you’re the son of the man whom my mother had an affair with?” I murmured, now extremely curious at this turn of events.

“Yes. I was born 2 years before you, and my mother passed away giving birth to me.” His face was still stone cold. “My father had found a new love, and before he died in the crossfire between White Mist and Kwon, he told me I had a sister.”

Taehyung took out a small piece of paper from his pocket and it was a photograph of me and my mother.

“He said I’d need to keep you safe one day because Kwon was dangerous.” He said. “I’ve been actively monitoring Kwon and getting up the ranks all these years, watching you from afar. I’ve never seen your face clearly though, until now.”

“I know it’s rude to disrupt a family reunion but we need to get out of here first, Taehyung.” Jimin interceded. “Do you have a plan?”

“We can catch up later.” Taehyung told me with a small smile. It seemed forced but it seemed he didn’t smile all that often, so I accepted it.

“There’s a small corridor that leads out of the basement and into the sewers. It’s a short walk to the main road, but we need to get past 3 of Kwon’s men first.” Taehyung explained, whipping out a gun for Jimin. “I’ve a cell located in a safehouse so you can contact whoever on your side.”

“Stay here. Me and Taehyung will get rid of the men outside and we’ll come back to get you.” Jimin said, loading the gun. His eyes were filled with a sort of rage I’d never seen before. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead before silently heading out with Taehyung.

Time seemed to pass extra slowly as I waited in the musty basement. It had to have taken only 5 minutes tops but it felt like a whole hour had passed before Jimin popped his head through the door again, beckoning for me to follow them. We crept past the now motionless bodies on the ground, following Taehyung into the dark sewerage entrance.

Taehyung was very thorough, checking around each time there were noises and inspecting every turn before moving forward. Jimin constantly looked behind just in case, keeping his hand holding mine the whole way. It was a very long walk before we reached the end of the sewage tunnel.

“I hear people at the end, but I’m not sure if they’re Kwon or Jimin’s men.” Taehyung said, trying to get a good look through the metal vent that separated us from the exit. We were silent for a few moments, letting Jimin try to pick up what they were saying.

“They’re my men.” Jimin finally said. “I recognize the voices.”

“Y/N should go up first to safety.” Taehyung said and Jimin agreed. Jimin gave me a small peck on the cheek before helping me get through the exit tunnel. I was greeted by a few familiar guards’ faces. They were quick in helping me to my feet.

“Ma’am.” They bowed as they draped a small coat over me.

“Thanks boys.” Jimin nodded to his team, then nodded towards Taehyung who gave him a small smile. “Let’s go.”

We drove to a separate and more remote safehouse. Jimin was smart enough to not have revealed it to Kwon. As I saw the house get closer, I put my head on Jimin’s shoulder and felt his thumb reassuringly caress my hand that was in his. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long night.

Jimin had gotten Taehyung settled in quickly and as much as we wanted to catch up, Jimin told me he had to prioritize planning and safety first. Taehyung gave me a pat on the head as he and Jimin followed a group of his men into a big boardroom. I figured I was too tired, both mentally and physically, to join in and listen properly so I looked around the kitchen to make some food.

“Ma’am please, allow us.” The very polite maids tapped my shoulder, smiling as they offered to cook for me. “Please let us know what you would like to eat.”

“Do you have ramen?” I asked gingerly. The best thing to eat after a stressful day had to be ramen (and boy, was that the most stressful day ever).

“Of course. Please wait for it, we will prepare it shortly.”

I thanked them and found myself lying on the couch, completely blacking out from exhaustion.

#bts #bts jimin #park jimin #bts smut #park jimin smut #jimin smut #jimin mafia au #bts mafia au #bangtan #imagine #bts imagine #jimin imagine #park jimin imagine

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non-stop-imagines · 5 years

Text

The Man with the Metal Arm (Part 10)

Here’s Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Word Count: 1913

Warnings: Angst, Strangling, Bucky having a PTSD nightmare, SMUT, SMUT AND MORE SMUT, unprotected sex (just wrap it before you tap it y'all), cute little ending

A/N: If you read the warning, you know what your getting into. I honestly didn't know this chapter was going down this path but once I started I couldn't stop. Hope you guys like it, filthy smut and all, and thank you for being so patient with me. Love y'all. 💛💛💛

Man with the Metal Arm TAGS LIST: @storibambino @cutiepiemimi13 @this-chan @elaindeereads @letsshamelessqueen-m @lokislilcaribbeanprincess

UNIVESAL TAGS LIST: @avc212 @meeeeeeeeeps @beautifulwisdom2001 @iamzion-therealhabesha @cheychey10142 @thottio

Requests are Open, if you want to be added to the tags list for this series or wrting with Bucky in general, just ask.

Masterlist

_____

You wake abruptly due to the sudden lack of oxygen you were receiving. You feel a force tightening around your neck and try to relieve it by pulling at Bucky’s arm that was wrapped around it.

“Bucky…” You choke out, frantically hitting his arm, receiving a response in Russian from him. “Bucky, its me… Y/N…” You gasp out, this time gaining enough slack on his grip for you to be able to escape and turn around to wake him up. “Bucky, wake up baby.” You straddle and attempt to shake him awake, startled when his eyes shoot open, but they still seem empty as he spouts more Russian. “James, wake up. It’s me, Y/N” Finally, Bucky seems to wake from his nightmare, hyperventilating and sweating bullets. You sit back on your legs which in turn placed you in his lap and catch your breath, breathing like you just sprinted a whole 5K marathon.

“Y/N, what happened?” Bucky asks, looking at you concerned, reaching toward you to try to pull you closer to him, but you flinch in response of his movements, but immediately look at him apologetically and quickly grasp his hands, giving him an empathetic grin.

“You-uh- you had a nightmare.” You answer, still shaken from what just happened. You look at the alarm clock on the nightstand: 3:25 AM.

“An episode.” Bucky reiterates, avoiding eye contact with you. His voice seemed lifeless, like he felt unworthy to feel so any and all emotion drained from his voice. “Y/N, did I hurt you?” He looks closer at you, viewing slightly darker spots and the imprint of his sleeve on your neck.

“Trust me, these won’t last long. Listen, baby,” you place your hand on Bucky’s jawline and focus on his eyes. “I would have left you already if I wasn’t prepared for… something to happen. I would never kick someone while they’re down.” You lightly stroke Bucky’s stubble, hand comparably small to his face. He brings his large hand to yours and gently nudges his head into your hand.

“I’m a danger to you and Louise, Y/N. I don’t want to hurt you. I love you too much to let that happen. I just don’t understand why you stayed with me after I told you about my past?” Tears began to brim his eyes, but Bucky would never let himself cry. Only a lone tear rolled down his cheek, which you wiped away with your thumb.

“Bucky, like I said, I would never kick someone while they’re down. If I didn’t love you, I would have left after you told me about your past. I’m not here to change you, I’m here to help you. Your past, your PTSD, it’s only a part of you. It doesn’t define you. I don’t see you as the ex-assassin super soldier you were. I see you as the handsome man that’s wrapped around a three year-olds finger. Will do anything for this little girl that looks up to you. You’re the man that looked at this single mother that works absolutely insane hours, said to yourself ‘I’m gonna get her’ and did just that. Your the man who thinks he’s so unworthy of being loved, and yet loves everyone else so deeply.” You move up on Bucky’s lap, closer to him as he wraps his arms around your waist lightly caressing your lower back while simultaneously tracing the waistband of your underwear. You press your forehead to his. “Bucky, you deserve to be loved. I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” He whispers then presses a kiss to your lips, a kiss that somehow translated pain and incomprehensible love. You raise up onto your knees so that you sitting taller than Bucky and deepen the kiss, then slowly lower back onto Bucky’s lap as you feel his hands move up your back. You lightly grind your hips into his as you move your hands into hair. You two momentarily break the kiss and look into each other's eyes, chests heaving deeply from the passion that just consumed you guys. Almost immediately you guys began the act of passion again, this time hand moving more wildly. You ran your hands up and down Bucky’s abdomen, almost begging for closer skin contact. You move your hands higher and higher, pulling Bucky’s shirt up with them. Bucky eventually gets the memo and helps you remove his shirt, then crashes his lips back onto yours. His hands now move up the back of your shirt, his metal hand moving to the front to massage on of your breasts, the cool metal feeling good on your nipple. After a few seconds he continues to run his hands up your shirt to remove it, you lift your arms to add to the ease of removal and watch as he swiftly tosses it off the bed. He takes a moment to sit back and relish in the beauty that is your natural body, hands hovering next to your waist. All you do is shake your head and smile at him before crashing your lips back onto his, pushing him back so he was laying further down on the pillow behind him. Your kisses begin to trail down from his lips, down his neck, spending some extra time behind his ear. You then move to his chest and down his abs, your ass now purposefully in the air as you look up at him. You mess with the hem of his red plaid pajama pants for a moment and then pull them and his underwear down slowly, watching as his dick spring from them. You bite your lip as you finish pulling down his pants, then slowly move back up to his dick, placing the tip in your mouth then slowly removing it. You flick your tongue over the top, earning a low groan from Bucky, and then swiftly and again excruciatingly slow, you lower your mouth onto his dick, hollowing out your cheeks so you can fit as much of him as you could in your mouth. You run your hands up his abdomen and and then back down, not moving your head but rather allowing your tongue to explore the underside of his dick. You start to bob your head up and down, using one of your hands to jerk the bottom part of his dick that you weren’t able to fit in your mouth. Bucky expels breathy moans as you begin to get into the act, giving him the most pleasure when you pull your mouth off of him and kiss the head of his dick. When you start to consistently bob your head, Bucky’s groans get deeper, but he still continues to keep as quiet as possible, and when he gets close he reaches down and lifts your head, making you stop. You smirk at him and crawl back up to kiss him again, giving him a taste of himself, smiling into it as he moans. He then swiftly flips the two of you over, you now laying down on the bed.

“You’re turn.” Bucky smirks then begins to kiss down your body. He first stops at your breast, licking and sucking one nipple while his hand massaged the other one, and then switches. He then continues to slowly kiss down your abdomen and kisses along the waistband of your underwear. He pulls them down and then makes his way up by kissing up your thigh, making you bite your lip the closer he got to your pussy. When he gets as close as he could to it without making contact, he licks his lips and then blows a smooth stream of air onto your clit, making you whimper. He then licks a long stripe up your pussy to your clit, wrapping his mouth around it and sucking on it, and then pulls away. At this point you were dripping, your body beggin for more action, so Bucky takes his middle finger and begins to pump it in and out of you, curling it upward so it could hit your G-Spot. He moves his mouth back down you your pussy and starts to suck and lick on your clit, making you feel an immense amount of pleasure.

“Mmmm, Bucky.” You hum as he speeds up these motions, but he begins to slow down at these words. You try to grind into his hand, but he holds you down with his metal arm.

“What’s my name, doll?” One his metal fingers move over your clit, making you squirm.

“James.” You moan, earning some movement from Bucky’s finger inside you. You say his name again, which makes him pick up his speed again, adding another finger while the flick of his tongue on your clit increases in velocity. You couldn’t stay still for much longer and soon your hips began to lift of the bed. This time, instead of trying to hold you down, Bucky responds by placing your legs over his shoulders, bringing your pussy closer to his face. He anchors your thighs to his shoulders as he sticks his tongue into you, bobbing it in and out and then pulling it out and licking up to your clit, sucking on it momentarily and then pulling away. He repeats this combination for another minute or two, but stops when you start to grind into his face again, sensing that your were trying to ride your way to your climax. He sets your hips down, then climbs on top of you, positioning his dick at your pussy. He bends down to kiss you, rubbing the head of his dick up and down your pussy and then pushes inside you, making you moan into the kiss. He places his hands by your head and begins to move his hips, pulling almost all the way out and pushing back in. You move your hand down and play with your clit, increasing your pleasure even more. The room is now filled with the sounds of stifled groans and whispers of each others names as you two grow closer to cumming. When Bucky begins to feel your walls contracting he pulls your hand from your clit and holds it above your head them plows his hips into you harder making you come. He continues to sloppily move his hips, using your feeling of ecstacy to get to his climax, pulling out and jerking his dick, cumming onto your stomach. He relieves the tension in his arms and gently falls on top you you, chests alternating heaving. After a few minutes Bucky gets up from the bed and heads to the adjacent bathroom, getting a washcloth, dampening it with warm water, then comes back to clean you up. He climbs back into the bed and pulls you close to his chest. You lay there and listen to his heartbeat, nestling your head into his chest. He runs his hand over your disheveled curls and kisses the top of your head.

“I wish I had a scarf or something to give you.” Bucky chuckles, kissing your head again.

“Not having one for one night won’t kill me.” Your fingers trace the ripple in his chest up to where his body met his metal arm. “I love you, Buck.” You close your eyes and rest your head on his chest.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He responds, hugging you closer then closing his eyes, both of you finally falling asleep.

Part 11

#black reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #james barnes #james barnes imagine #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #james barnes smut

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12miraenie · 6 years

Note

33 & 40 with Baekhyun~ bestfriend to bf au.

A/N: Wooh. 2.4k….Oops. Enjoy💕

You could never be seen with him like that.

You hold hands in public, go to each other’s houses at 2 am, and have playful conversations that may seem like you are flirting with each other, but you can never be together like that.

He knows it, you do too.

The impossibility of ever being the one he loves romantically used to pain you, but as time went by you became kind of numb about it. You used to clench your fists tight when he smiles brightly at other girls, you used to turn your attention away and try to blank him out when he talks to other girls and looks at them in the same adorable, puppy-like expressions in his eyes that you wish are exclusively yours.

In your last night of being a high school senior, when you finally mustered the little courage you had after a few drinks, you confessed.

“Y/N, I…” Baekhyun stared at you open-mouthed, shock evident on his delicate features. The little fantasy you clung onto broke into a million little pieces, along with your heart. You knew it right there, and then, he doesn’t like you that way. It was the biggest mistake of your life. You bit your lips and held tight onto the edge of your beautiful prom dress that you had a hard time deciding for months trying not to let your tears escape. It took the last bit of your resolve to turn around, ignoring the funny looks from other people in the room, especially the mocking pity in the eyes of his prom date.

You had wanted him to see you differently. You had wanted him to love you differently.

You turned around and bolted. Out of the suffocating room, out of all the humiliation and hurt you just went through, out of the place that Baekhyun was in. Strangely, it wasn’t his rejection that you disliked, it was the look of genuine sorry and pity on his face. To be honest, you would rather for him to reject you harshly and stop being friends with you than look at you like that.

Of course, with your eyes planted on the ground and all the thoughts were running in your head, you missed the subtle flick in his eyes.

There was a sudden feeling of hollowness in his chest. Baekhyun convinced himself that it was because he rejected you, his best friend since toddlers. You who he knows so well and cares deeply about. He categorized that painful feeling to his guilt, and sorry, and to resignation. However, it was something that even Baekhyun himself was unaware of…until now.

Now you are both adults, long matured from being teenagers with rash decisions and uncontrollable impulses. You are still each other’s go-to person in emergency situations. Midnight calls, movie marathons, takeouts after midnight are still regular occurrences. Baekhyun had suggested to you to move into the same apartment complex since you chose to stay in the same city, him for work and you for school.

“You look like you need some help with that.” With a toothbrush in your mouth, you appeared from the hallway of your apartment, clad in a long t-shirt and a pair of slippers. A few bubbles were flowing out of your mouth because you were trying to speak with toothpaste and a toothbrush stuck in your mouth. He was about to hand the bags to you when you pushed your hand out to a stop gesture.

“Wait here. Let me take care of it first.” You pointed to your mouth and skidded back to the bathroom. Baekhyun pouted when you finally came out. He glanced at the clock and calculated, “1 minute and…24 seconds. You kept me waiting for that long. My arms felt like falling off.” You rolled your eyes and reached out to take the bags on his left hand. Your hair that was slightly tickling his skin, your hand that was over his to get the bags, your scent after a fresh shower that was invading his nose. The sudden proximity suddenly made his body go stiff.

“The one I want isn’t her–Ah! You found it! It didn’t get sold out?” Your pout was instantly replaced by a squeal when you jumped happily with the matcha bread in your hand. Baekhyun knew you loved the matcha flavored one better than the original, but it always gets sold out first in the bakery because how popular it is. He practically turned the whole aisle upside down to find one for you. Baekhyun’s lips curved upwards without him even noticing. Your radiant smile and childish squeal convinced him that he would do anything for you.

“By the way, there’s something I need to tell you.” Baekhyun put down his chopsticks and put both elbows on the table. He crossed his fingers and focused on you, who signaled him to continue with your mouth still filled with food. Baekhyun resisted the urge to poke your cheeks and cleared his throat. “Hyung is bringing his girlfriend home this weekend. So we decided a family meal would be nice. So um, my parents are expecting me to bring someone along too.”

You had finally swallowed all the chicken in your mouth. “You don’t have a girlfriend right now, tho.”

“Yes…and no. I have a girl friend though. Girl, friend.” He specifically stressed the last two words.

“You want me to come along?” You stared at him like he was going to lean back in his seat and laugh.

Baekhyun cocked his head but didn’t avert his gaze. Then it hit you, he’s going to introduce you as his girlf-

“You can just tag along as a friend. Besides, my family knows you so well already. There’s nothing to be worried about. It’s just meeting with hyung’s girlfriend. I am sure my mom would love for you to be there.” Maybe he read the thoughts in your mind, Baekhyun tried to make the line clear.

“Sure, why not. I haven’t been back to Bucheon for a while.” You lowered your eyes to another piece of chicken and put it in your mouth. Somehow though, it didn’t taste as good as before, although you aren’t half done with eating. Ever since high school, the relationship topic has become a sensitive one between you two. You still joke about pretty girls and hot guys, but you had stopped talking about it. Even though you told him 4 years ago that you had stopped liking him that way, Baekhyun knew it’s best if he just avoids this topic.

HIs continuous avoidance on this topic though, has a different impact on you. You had thought before that Baekhyun and you are fine now. You don’t have to feel so awkward, so out of place because of a failed confession in high school. But the pangs in your heart proved otherwise.

“Great! I’ll book the tickets tonight.”

You two soon went back to the latest tv show like nothing happened. After eating, Baekhyun helped you clean up and took out the trash for you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I am going back to my apartment now.” You nodded before he closed the door behind him, soon a dull thud was heard, signaling that Baekhyun had entered his own apartment. It was Baekhyun who asked you to move, ever since he found out you were going to stay for grad school. He was already employed, with a 9 to 5 job every day and owned an apartment for himself. You didn’t know why you chose to stay in the same city for grad school, you also didn’t know what pushed you to agree to his offer.

Was it simply because of your friendship? That explanation is what gets you to sleep every night, but you knew deep down that there’s more to that. The lingering feelings you had-no, have, about Baekhyun were probably the ones to blame. There’s no use, Y/N. Stop thinking about him. There won’t be anything between you and him. He doesn’t like you that way.

You told yourself once more, to the hundred, million times that you repeated the same sentence. To convince yourself, but honestly more to lie to yourself.

Baekhyun’s family was nice and friendly as always. His mother was waiting by the door and immediately hugged you tightly. His father was standing a little behind her, waving and smiling to you. You are extremely happy to be back in your hometown, so you didn’t think much about the slight overenthusiasm of both parents. Beokbeom’s girlfriend is amazing, you liked her from the start. Even more when you found out, she studies business too. Everything was going fine, like the old times you used to be in the Byun household. You were enjoying good homemade food in probably a 100 years when Baekhyun’s mom threw a bomb onto the table, literally.

“So, since Beom’s relationship is going so well. Baekhyun, how’s you and Y/N?”

Wait, what-

“Oh, it’s great mom. Y/N, as you know, is amazing. I love her. We’ve been going on dates a lot more recently,” he addressed everyone in the room, purposefully avoided you.

“It’s so much easier when you live in the same apartment building.” Baekhyun winked at his brother. Mrs. Byun smiled, “Oh good. I knew one day you two would be together.”

“I can see it in their eyes.” Baekbeom’s girlfriend chimed in.

You are glad that you weren’t eating or drinking when he said all those words. At least, you controlled yourself from shooting daggers to him with your eyes and only clutched the sides of your chair tight.

You thought about kicking him under the table but didn’t want to take the chance of hitting someone else. He refused to meet your eyes, even though you knew he’s aware of the intensity of your attention. You held it in until dinner’s over and everyone’s had a couple of drinks. Well, except you. But you still pretended to be a little affected and smiled to Mrs. Byun apologizingly, “Sorry, can I go out for some fresh air?”

You stood in the Byuns’ backyard, replaying the conversation over and over again. That is until the door creaked and you look up to see Baekhyun walking closer.

“What was that, Baekhyun? I thought I am here as a friend?”

Baekhyun’s steady gaze faltered slightly, maybe due to the accusatory and demanding tone of your voice. He shoved one hand in his pocket and ran his hand through his hair.

“Sorry I lied. It’s just…Baekbeom is settling down with a girlfriend, and I’ve been away for so long. It’s been a long time since my mom wanted me to bring someone home. You’re…just-”

You cut him off in the middle.

“You should have told me about it! It’s not a request I will refuse anyway, why would you lie? I am your best friend, Baek.” “I know, and that’s why it’s so hard for me to say-” You didn’t wait for him to finish this time either.

“Is it, Baekhyun? I don’t think it was so hard for you to say ‘I love her’ so easily, like you actually mean it!” You can feel your insides churning up as you just brought the argument to a new level.

Something behind his eyes changed, Baekhyun took one step closer. You can’t read him so accurately now, because of the darkness around you and the bangs covered his forehead.

“I didn’t think it’s that big of a deal, Y/N.” He spoke the words slowly like he’s cautious with his words.

He doesn’t know what’s going on in your head now. The “I love her” triggered all your suppressed feelings and frustrations about him, adding up until they overflowed.

“Right, just like how you turned me down, it’s always not a big deal to you, huh?” Something wet rolled down your cheek, you quickly lift a hand to wipe it away. But more seemed to flow out, and there was nothing you could do to stop the tears from streaming down.

“You…you have no idea how I actually feel, do you?” You stifled a bitter laugh and looked up to the dark sky littered with the moon and little stars. “The pain I go through every day, the anger, the helplessness of falling in love with my best friend. I begged for you to ignore me, hate me, whatever. I just don’t want you to love me back and still be around when I know that there’s no-fucking-way that you can ever return the same kind of affection.” You broke down completely and buried your face in your hands.

You muttered, “It hurts…It hurts more than you know, Bael. More than you would guess and imagine.”

It was silence that embraced you after your sudden outburst, but then you felt his warm body against yours, his cold fingers removing your hand from your face, his gentle voice a little above a whisper.

“Don’t cry.”

You didn’t resist when he lifted your chin up gently and wiped your tears away with his slightly cold, delicate fingers. His hand then settled on one side of your face when you found his eyes filled with adoration, regret, care, love. There was no trace of pity in his eyes.

“I guess I wasn’t being clear enough before. I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you. As your best friend, and more than a friend. You have always been right next to me, and it wasn’t until there was a distance between us that I came to my senses. No one makes me feel like you do. No one makes me motivated enough to get up every day like you do. No one cheers me up and makes me feel like my life is absolutely wonderful like you do. Then I realized, there really is no way I don’t feel the same.”

It took you tremendous strength not to fall apart right there and then. He said all those words without any trace of hesitation, without doubt, and without deception. You were definitely in your wildest dream. The feeling slowly sank in when Baekhyun leaned closer and cupped your cheeks. You tried not to melt right away, but the sincerity behind his intense gaze didn’t help at all.

“I am sorry it took me a long time, but I’m glad I came back to you.”

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aboutelan-blog · 5 years

Text

6/2/17 10:39 a.m.

I feel positively drained. With this exhaustion, I feel more susceptible to pain and negativity. It’s like I’m not able to ward things off as easily, because my mind is too tired. I hope this isn’t the knockout round, but the moment instead after the fight when I ice my body and cool down.

----

***What’s my pain plan? What will I learn to do healthily when I feel symptoms of depression coming on?

------

I’ve been through one hell of a training and there’s still more to go if I want to reach this mental Everest.

My body aches, my mind aches, my eyes are weary Jehovah if you could carry me along this path just for a little bit I may be able to renew my strength. Please carry me. My heart is heavy and I’m bloated with thoughts I don’t need.

Each day I try to cast one aside so they don’t live within me. Blocking me from moving forward. Thoughts that hurt and pain I will run towards include these….(I have to remember these pains are temporary, ephemeral):

1) Zach and his girlfriend going out dancing tonight (it’s Friday) at The Piano Bar.

2) Zach posting on Instagram a pic with him and his new beau (belle?).

3) Me finding out that Zach is engaged at Chelsey and Keith’s wedding.

4) Zach celebrating his September birthday – damn Virgos – with her. She takes him out and spoils him.

5) Zach and his girlfriend having sex. I crave intimacy, even though I’m still learning how to be intimate.

6) The Piano Bar.

7) Zach eating ramen or Korean BBQ with him. Did she take is updated profile picture?

8) Hockey games. I love hockey, don’t I?

So short of breath writing this, like I ran a marathon. Running knee-deep in the pain toward the pain, a breathing mask of pain. Pain...pain...PAIN.

Now, I get to choose. Employ my free will. I can choose to be happy with these outcomes or I can choose to feel the pain more. I can’t rely on my pain more though, like a sordid security blanket, making myself out to be the victim, or even the villain. It is what it is.

I made this decision. I made this reality and moment by moment, I am building a reality.

Now I have a choice what reality I want to build next, whether that’s one of peace or one of despair.

Let’s build one of peace.

Zach chose what he wanted, and we are always willing to stand by our choices. He’s confident and looking back toward me.

What a lonely dirt road I’m on after he drove away. Better for me to prune my thoughts and sit in silence. White-hot-heat. I have to be resolute in my own choice to move forward and not stay stranded. I have to choose to support and advocate for whatever path Zach takes in order to feel peace and know he’s made the right choices for himself.

I have to choose happiness which is somehow rooted in my own happiness and the happiness I will choose to feel for him.

I can’t nurse pain or sorrow...that breeds pain and sorrow. I can choose to wish him pain, but that infliction would only reach mei. If I send happiness, my pain will turn to peace and my soul will find quiet.

That list on the last page of fears. I fear he’ll start a family. I can’t push away my fears. I can only address them head on. They are fears because my ego fears that I’m not lovable. Why can, how can Zach find someone else to love or like outside of me?

I’m supposed to be the whole world. The love that changes him and makes a better person. My ego wants the acknowledgement and that’s where the pain arises. Instead, If I recognize that he is not my world, nor am I his, he is creating his own reality moment by moment, we are both doing all we know how to do based on our past experiences that shape our future actions until we wake up and choose.

There is no anger in that, only humanity. He needs love; I need love. I also need healing, so I can come to a resolution of inner peace and stillness.

I’m scared of seeing that couple profile shot of Zach and his new girlfriend. I’m scared to like it. The ego says that should be me, but it’s not.

I wish Zach would peruse my Facebook page, and wonder about me and how I’m doing.

Did I leave an empty space in his life? Does he have regrets? What’s she like? Will it last forever? I still check Josh’s relationship status, Josh from my old job, or even Aaron’s. Will someone make the conscious choice to choose me or will I consciously choose to move forward. To actively pursue getting better, to love myself deeper, and maybe, just maybe, that love will spill over to others. Can I choose differently?

-----

My dad was emotionally and physically abusive, but instead of being envious of other loving relationships with the stinkin’ thinkin’ that that will never be me, I’m going to cherise and explore the love I have for myself.

Love isn’t envy. Love breeds more love and nothing else. It is not reckless but controlled and nurtured, just like a plant that needs the right conditions to grow and thrive. Love absorbs and gives. It is generous; it stems from patience, it heals and awakens.

It is not a foe, nor does it create foes. It is warm to touch when you need or cool to touch if you prefer. It is NOT controlling, yet it does take practice and restraint to control.

Without restraint, the art of love is lost to its counterfeits – desire, lust, greed, envy – who share passion with love but not its attributes of patience, kindness, and gratitude.

Fake love is easy to mass produce. Real love takes time and energy, but is everlasting and doesn’t end in destruction.

Zach should not destroy me. Dad should not destroy me. Love cannot be a destroyer. But is should bring healing.

Dear Jehovah,

Please help me to heal and heal with love in my heart for Zach and my dad. Let me bud new blooms of love for me and for my enemies. Let me be flooded with love and light.

I have to reach the point where if I want something, I’m also able to let it go. I have to have an intention and let what I want most go. What if I can do this with Zach? Can I let him go? Can I let you go? Not even think about you anymore.

“Once you release your grasp, then you give up your resistance, and then that which is for you will come to you.” - Michael Bernard Beckwith

Otherwise I could be blocking my blessings.

Why am I scared to stop resisting? Why resist? What if the universe is really on my side? What if God is doing everything in His/Her power to make sure this all works out in the end?

I’m being cheered for to keep going, because everyone and everything is working with me, not against me. I can’t work against myself. That’s like a CEO who self-sabotages will the rest of the company is trying to keep the organization afloat. I have to stop resisting letting you go Zach. Today, I let you go.

#Journal #healing #mental health #depression #emotional health #God #Faith #Love #Forgiveness

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tomhollandaminute · 6 years

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Airport encounter || T.H

Summary: You’re on your way to Los Angeles to meet up with your family, however, London traffic is not so sure if it wants to cooperate.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Words: 2255 (yikes)

Warnings: Not edited, too emotional, cursing, a bit slow in the beginning(?), I switch POVs throughout the story (sometimes you’re with Y/N, sometimes you see things from Tom’s POV)

A/N: Hehe, not sponsored by Marvel. Kind of sad, but very much true.

"No...No... Nonononono, nooo!" Y/N looks away from her phone as the words 'IRON MAN WINS' 'K.O.' displayed on the screen. Not handling all her masters being knocked out, she left the game and turned her attention towards the driver.

"Sorry, I tend to get quite enthusiastic when I play. Have you tried Contest of Champions yourself?" She asked the cabbie, who just shrugged in response.

"Oh, well, you should. It's this really cool game, where you're a Marvel character and you fight other Marvel characters, and... and it's just really cool! I started a few days ago, and I'm a complete addict," silence.

"So what's your name?"

"Stephen"

"Can I call you Steve?"

Silence.

"Great!"

"We're here, miss, Heathrow Airport. That will be 90 £" The grey man turned to look at the young girl in the back seat.

"Oh bloody hell, I'm late!" Y/N searched her purse for her wallet, once she found it, she quickly pulled up two fifties, and gave them to him.

"Thanks for the ride, Steve!" She said quickly before she headed out and ran past the big crowd that she didn’t even address.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Stupid, slow, revolving doors," Y/N tipped on her toes. She had approximately 20 minutes to get herself through the heavily trafficked airport, to her gate, and onto her departing flight. '3, 2, 1... go' and she was off. However, it didn't take long before Usain Bolt had to stop, because before her, might have been the biggest queue to the luggage drop ever.

"Oh fuck me,"

Tom could finally breathe. His tense body relaxed. He was inside the cab, and the only thing he could hear was the faint sound of the radio and the voices of the three others inside the vehicle.

“Heathrow, please,”

Despite being exhausted for waking up so early, Tom always got some kind of adrenaline rush when he saw the happy faces of his fans waiting for him. So when the cabbie pulled over, and they had paid, it didn’t take him much effort to put up a smile when he walked out.

“Man, should’ve thought that Heathrow at 6 would be quiet, eh?” Harry said. "Yeah, heard some crap actor was gonna be here," Tom laughed at his brother’s remark.

“Can’t believe this is happening to me, I can’t believe this is happening to me, I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Y/N continued her mantra as an attempt to calm herself while she rapidly shook off her jacket and took off her shoes.

“Miss, we need to ask you to keep your shoes on until you’re further in front of the line, please,” a security woman named Minnie told her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! But Minnie, you see, my flight is boarding in ten minutes, and I’m in a bit of a rush, and I– I’m just really stressed!” The elder woman saw the desperate look in her eyes and nodded, understanding the situation.

"I see, let's get you through here quicker then, miss, follow me," Y/N did as she was told, and picked up her shoes.

"I really appreciate this, you see, my day started off quite good, had a delicious croissant for breakfast, but then because I had so much time, I ended up stressing out of my apartment to the cab. And there was just so much traffic, you can't believe it! I thought it would be quiet for an early flight, but I guess not!" Y/N laughed when she realized Minnie wasn't going to say anything. “Sorry, my mum keeps telling me I rant when I’m nervous,” Make that all the time.

It took her two minutes before Y/N parted her ways with Minnie and the rest of security. Before they could ask her for a car to drive her to the gate, Miss Bolt had put on her running shoes and was tens of meters away.

It was incredible how much an airport lounge could calm a man. And yes, the effect was twice as effective this early – so effective that Sam had to wake Tom up they wouldn't miss their flight. "I can't believe you actually fell asleep, mate," the brunette laughed.

"I can't believe you didn't! Man, how can you not sleep under such relaxing circumstances?!"

"Such relaxing circumstances? " Harry didn't even try to hold back his laugh.

"Oh sod off, Harry!" Tom pushed his brother, but before Niki could interfere, the airport announcement cut them off.

"Flight UA883 to Los Angeles is delayed by 2 hours,” and that was when Tom saw her.

Y/N's legs were killing her. Running through the whole terminal along with a rather heavy bag hanging on her shoulder was not to recommend. 'Why couldn't you just wake up when you were 'posed to eh? Then this wouldn't 've happened!' She kept cursing at herself, the next step more torturing than the other.

Finally, Y/N was there. She was out of breath, but she was there, and she would make it, and she would see her family, and she would–

"Flight UA883 to Los Angeles is delayed by 2 hours,”

“Are you joking with me?!” Y/N was now immune to any embarrassment. This was insane! Had she just run a blooming 5K marathon for nothing?!

"Stupid traffic, stupid early flight, stupid sleep, stupid everything!" Y/N murmured frustratedly as she trudged over to one of the empty seats.

When she sat down, Y/N quickly pulled up her phone to update her dad: 'Bloody plane's delayed. Ran 100 miles to catch a fucking delayed plane. 2 hours delayed!' Reading what she had sent to her father, Y/N quickly added: 'Sorry I am furiously enraged by my sad cock-up situation'

After scrolling through all of her social media-feeds, as well as telling all of her friends about what had happened to her in way too many pity-fulled snaps, Y/N re-opened Marvel Contest of Champions.

"Oh fuck off, not this as well," Y/N muttered, remembering her best master was knocked out.

'Spider-man it is then,'

"Are you joking with me?!" He saw a beautiful figure tramp over to some empty seats, and all he could do was wondering what this incredible woman was like.

"Hey movie-star, you alright there, mate?" Harry made out a laugh when his brother didn't answer. 'Who are you?' It didn't take the two to figure out who their big brother was giving all his attention to.

"Just go over there, talk to her!" Sam nudged Tom, and Nikki looked around to see who they were talking about.

"I can't do that! She probably won't even like me!" The twins just rolled their eyes at Tom's statement.

"Well you can't just stare at her and not do anything, man, that's kind of where the line between being a stalker and interested goes..." But Tom just diverted his eyes away from the Y/H/C and to his friends.

"I'm don't understand what you're talking about, I'm not staring!" He gave away a nervous laugh and brushed his hair away from his forehead. That statement just made his friends laugh more though.

"Piss off!"

"Well that's not entirely true, Tom," Nikki said, "just go talk to her, use your charm!"

"What charm?" Tom had lost all confidence.

"Go over and just say hey, dude, you're Spider-Man for Christ's sake!" Harry said, but Tom just shook his head. 'You can do this. You're cool, you're spider-man. You're Tom holland! Just go!' And then he was off.

"You have a Marvel game on your phone?" She suddenly heard from the side. Needing to pay attention to her screen, she didn't even look at him when she answered: "Yeah... YES!" She won. Thoroughly happy with herself, the Y/H/C haired woman did a little victory dance in her seat.

Tapping her way further into the mission, Y/N yet again skipped the conversation between Spider-Man and Black Panther. She had a bad history on big spoilers, but was it one movie she did not want to get ruined, it was Avengers: Infinity war. Some would say she was stretching it a bit far. Y/N called it being procacious.

"Why do you skip all the chats?" She heard from the male beside her yet again.

"I don't want any spoilers," Y/N answered, upgrading her masters before their next fight.

"Would've believed the probability for that in a Marvel game would be rather small eh?" the man continued with a little chuckle, getting fascinated by the woman next to him.

"Well, you sort of learn not to trust Spider-Man with keeping secrets nowadays," Y/N looked up to address the man she had been talking to.

"Oh fuck, you're him! You're Tom Holland!"

"Well, you sort of learn not to trust Spider-Man with keeping secrets nowadays," Tom didn't know if he was relieved or didn't care that she already knew who he was.

"Oh fuck you're him!" Her surprise amused him so much he couldn't hold back his smile. "You're Tom Holland!"

"I am," he grinned "well, now that you know my name, darling, I only find it fair that you tell me yours," the girl didn't react at all, her eyes were still just as wide, her lips still apart.

"Uhm, Y/N, I'm Y/N Y/L/N," it finally came out of her. "I'm sorry, it's just that, you're Tom Holland, and I've wanted to meet you since Civil War, and you're just making me really nervous!"

For some reason, knowing this calmed Tom's nerves. It was nice to know such a beautiful girl could feel the same jitters that he had. "Me too! You have no idea, my brothers almost had to push me over here to you,"

Y/N's eyes lit up, it was weird talking to someone she had watched on YouTube and movies. 'Shit, it's been silent for a while now, should I say something? What the fuck do I say to a guy that I feel I know everything about?'

"Are you also going to LA?" 'nice, Y/N!'

"Yes, I am,"

"That's right! The press tour for Infinity War is ongoing! How could I forget, I literally cried when I found out the world premiere would be the night I landed!" Tom's cheeks started to hurt, but he didn't care. How had he not met this wonderful woman before?

Y/N looked hopefully at him, and Tom got nervous. 'Shit did she say anything? How could I miss her saying anything? What do I do?!'

"Tom? Are you alright?" His heart melted when her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Hm? Oh yes, sorry, what did you say?" Y/N laughed. Oh God, her laugh. It might have been the most beautiful thing he had heard in his life.

"I asked you how it has been seeing the world! You know, I envy you so much. All I dream of is travelling and exploring new places, it's literally the reason as for why I'm in uni and taking my degree,"

"Oh, it's amazing! I'm so thankful for getting to do what I do, and I just feel so privileged, you know? I have this job that I love, and I get to meet all these amazing people... But what about you, what do you study?"

Tom didn't want to talk about himself. He answered questions for press and interviewers all the time, and even though he found it super cool and nice that people were interested in him and his life, he wanted to know you better.

“Oh, it’s probably going to bore you, it’s not really that interesting. My life’s shamefully dull compared to yours, I mean, you hang out with Robert Downey Jr! The RDJ!”

Tom shook his head at this, how could anything that she did, be boring? “I find that very hard to believe. What I am sure of on the other hand, is that your life must be very interesting, I’m very interested at least,”

“I find that very hard to believe. What I am sure of on the other hand, is that your life must be very interesting, I’m very interested at least,” Tom was making it really hard for you not to just melt then and there. How could a boy your age be so nice?

“Want to switch?” Y/N laughed.

“How about you start selling it to me before I agree to anything?” Tom laughed too, and then she started telling him everything. Y/N told him about where she grew up, her childhood friends and embarrassing moments. She talked about her life in a way a narrator would tell its story. Tom was hooked.

Suddenly, two hours were up. The plane was boarding, and Y/N and Tom were out of time.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"Can we do this more times?" Tom asked, afraid this was the last time he would ever see her again.

"Talk?" Y/N tried her best, but failed to mask her happiness. He had liked talking to her too?

"Yes, and maybe hang out other places than airports?" The number of butterflies in Tom's stomach grew by the milliseconds of Y/N's silence. But then she gave him that beautiful smile, and all his butterflies flew away.

"I would love to do that, here's my phone number, hit me up whenever" Y/N took a pen and wrote the digits on Tom's hand before she kissed his cheek and fled.

At that moment, Tom didn't care for the yelling that was to come from Judi. He had gotten Y/N Y/L/N phone number. And she had kissed his cheek good bye. A goodbye for now.

A/N: Oh God, I haven’t written an imagine for so long (check out my retired blog @so-flashtastic for some of my previous works;)), and I’m honestly kind of sad for how badly this was written. I think it’s because this is my first Tom-imagine, so I don’t know how to write from his POV. Let’s just call his lines and scenes a work in progress, yeah? Well, I hope I didn’t lose too many readers along the way of this piece, so please give me a chance?

#Tom holland #tom holland imagine #imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fan fiction #tom holland x reader #spiderman imagine #spider man fanfic #spider man one shot #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker fan fiction

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cnzmendoza · 5 years

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Discovering the Map to Remission

How an MDMA-assisted therapy trial saved John Saul’s life

His hands felt frozen. It was frigid and windy outside, but 50 degree weather was normal for Sausalito, California. And besides, even if it was warmer, his fingers would still feel stiff and close to paralyzed.

John Saul struggled to get out of bed. It felt like he had the flu. His body was fatigued, his head throbbed, and even the smallest movements would leave him out of breath. He had felt the same way the day before, and the day before that, and the day before that one, too. In 2012, he was diagnosed with systemic scleroderma, an incurable autoimmune disease that led his body to attack itself. Now three years laters, he had work to do as always, so he had to get up. He popped half a Percocet and started his day.

He flipped open the San Francisco Chronicle, and his eyes shifted to an unusual article. The title read “Ecstasy therapy approved for trial in Marin County.” Two therapists, Dr. Phil Wolfson and his wife Julane Andries, were seeking patients for a clinical therapeutic trial. They were looking for people with life-threatening illnesses. They were looking for someone like John.

This clinical trial would be part of a Phase II study on MDMA-assisted therapy. MDMA, or 3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine — more commonly known as ecstasy or molly — is often seen as a party drug. Its ability to produce transcendent bliss and unfiltered connection has made it popular at raves and night clubs, but the possibility of traumatic hallucinations and death have perpetrated the drug’s stigma.

John had never used MDMA before, but he’d dabbled with drugs briefly as a kid. Growing up in La Cañada, California, he would sneak out on a full moon night, make his way to the Pasadena hills near his home, and trip on psilocybin mushrooms. Given that he was only in middle school at the time, he remembers not knowing how to process what he experienced during those trips. “All I knew was that I felt the presence of something different,” he says. “It was something much bigger, almost like another force of life.”

Though MDMA would be something new for John, he wasn’t fearful. In fact, he was filled with the same curiosity that thrilled him as a young teenager, an eagerness and sense of excitement that had been dormant for decades. “At that time, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. The trial gave me hope that I would have some sort of say in how my life played out.” Now, John hoped that this alternate life force could help in the ways that everything else had failed to do so.

A nonprofit organization called The Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies (MAPS) would conduct the trial, as it had raised millions of dollars for research funding. MAPS was founded in 1986 by Rick Doblin, who has spent his entire career researching the therapeutic value of psychedelic drugs. He wrote his Master’s thesis on marijuana use for cancer patients, and in 2001, he received his Ph.D. from Harvard after writing his dissertation on the regulation of medical use for marijuana and psychedelics.

Collaborating with doctors and therapists around the world, MAPS also designs the studies and works with the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to gain regulatory approval and ensure safe, ethical protocols. After a successful Phase I, which is primarily to test out safety regulations, MAPS was now continuing the Phase II study. Other trials in South Carolina and Colorado were aimed at treating post-traumatic stress disorder, and now MAPS was looking to treat anxiety caused by life-threatening illnesses. The purpose of the therapy was not to cure these illnesses, but rather to give people peace and to help them gain control of their hindered lives.

Many people assume that those with life-threatening illnesses have anxiety because they’re in the face of death. “That’s a sure source of the anxiety,” John says. “But, at least for me, death is way easier to accept in comparison to just how hard life is. All I’m thinking is How am I supposed to go on?”

Systemic scleroderma struck John fiercely at age 47. He had been an athlete all of his life, wrestling since he was 8. He got involved with sports in high school, and eventually went on to wrestle for the division-1 team at Cal State Fullerton. He went to the gym daily, sailed boats, and ran half-marathons. His life as a jock had kept him outdoors, fulfilling his everlasting urge for adventure.

But now, at 50, his joints ached like they were plagued by arthritis, and his hands swelled so much that they were stuck as if holding a microphone. Scleroderma causes an overproduction of collagen in the body, which is typically most noticeable in the hardening of the hands and the face. John’s fingerprints had vanished, and his skin morphed into a waxy, mannequin-like consistency. The extra collagen essentially affected his whole body, but if it were to get into his lungs, heart, or kidneys, he would die. He always had a slight headache and felt chronically dehydrated. His stomach acid raged within, and his bowels were constantly irritated. The skin on his stomach was so tight that he couldn’t stand up straight, and the rest of his skin burned and felt toxic, like he was lying in flames. It hurt just to touch it.

The only thing that could keep him going was his opiates.

Each morning he would wash a tiny pill down with a glass of water, just to gain enough courage to get out of bed. The painkiller’s effects would only last for about two hours, though, so he would take several a day to numb himself.

John had spent the last several years building up his own yacht-brokering business, and he was thrilled to be in a profession that he loved. Even more so, he was proud to be the owner of a company that was finally gaining some momentum. But as his disease progressed, his body began to mimic the elderly grandparents who made up most of Sausalito’s population. For months now, John had little energy or motivation to live.

There is no cure for scleroderma, only treatments to lessen the symptoms. For years John tried everything to maintain a normal life. He had a chest port inserted in his body to directly inject antibiotics into his veins, which had been proven to help arthritis. This treatment was beneficial for the first year as it minimized the hardening and aching of John’s joints, but he continued to use it for longer than he should have. He received the antibiotics for another two years, and his digestive system weakened as a result.

He went through every nutritional aspect that he could think of, testing out which foods triggered the disease. Because of a fragile digestive system that would lead to bloating and bowel irritation, he had to cut out foods like red meat and dairy products. He tried to incorporate more fruits and vegetables into his diet, but that could only do so much.

He tried traditional talk therapy for a brief time, but he found the effects to be short-lived. Exercise, which had been his coping mechanism since high school, also seemed to be completely out of the picture. Even a trip to the grocery store would leave him out of breath, and he couldn’t drive back home until he sat in the car, reclined his seat, and napped for an hour.

Working from home also took more energy than he could afford to give. He could barely pick up the phone to call clients because his hands were crippled, and their waxy texture didn’t provide much grip. His business was losing money, and he was becoming isolated from his work and friends. The thought of death, and the anxiety of awaiting its arrival, secluded him even more from real life. Perhaps, he often thought, it would just be better to end his life himself.

As he held the San Francisco Chronicle in his waxy hands, he knew that he had to enroll. This trial, he believed, would be his very last chance.

John reached out to the MAPS trial researchers and got in touch with Phil and Julane. Phil told him that he certainly qualified for the trial, but he would have to go through an interview and some tests before his spot was guaranteed. John drove to the site of the trial, which was only twenty minutes from his home in Sausalito. He went up into the Muir Woods, on the windy road and through the infinite, colossal redwood trees. Finally, near the top of the mountains, he reached Phil’s office.

They told him in order to participate in the trial, John had to have a clean drug test. This meant cutting out the opiates that had been his saving grace for almost four years. “Opiates get a really bad reputation, but they truly kept me alive,” John says.

Phil and Julane gave him a tapering schedule to manage the withdrawals that were sure to come as he laid off the opiates. When he got home, he looked at the clock. The last time he had taken an opiate was at 9am. He had always known this day would come, but now it was really time. He ripped up the schedule and threw it in the trash. He wouldn’t put another opiate into his mouth.

The withdrawals were torturous and the pain so petrifying that he couldn’t sleep. In the early hours of the morning, he called his best friend, Jim. His body was on fire. His heart was beating at a million miles per hour, throbbing so hard that it might break through his chest at any moment. Sweat gushed down his face, and his fragile body shook like it was being electrocuted. He felt nervous and agitated as excess energy vibrated throughout his bones. The energy wasn’t the kind that he used to feel after a half-marathon or a boat race. Instead, he wanted to strangle someone, but he also wanted to weep. It had only been 18 hours since his last opiate.

The opiate withdrawals were so agonizing that it was often hard to tell the difference between physical pain and mental anguish. But this was all he had, so it would have to be worth it.

In the fall of 2015, John was accepted into the study, and once more, he drove up the curvy mountains to the study site. The sunshine illuminated the wooden walls and the burgundy and light brown furniture around the room. The panoramic windows displayed the sea of green and the heavy clouds that were preparing for a storm. By the middle window, there sat a kind of shrine. Two pots of vibrant orchids were surrounded by candles, tiny figurines, and a picture of the therapists’ 16-year-old son Noah.

Before the initial dosing, John had several therapy sessions with Phil and Julane. They told him that by the end of this process, they would know him better than anyone, and better than he knew himself. He was encouraged do “homework” in between sessions. He would take notes on things that he knew he needed to work on, and things that made him severely uncomfortable. These sessions would help the therapists, and MDMA, guide John through life and death.

His first MDMA dosing took him into another realm. He popped the pure MDMA pill that Phil had created in 1983. He laid on the “tripping couch” with his eyes closed and feet posted up. Ambient music played in the background. About 30 minutes passed, and he was flying. The colors around the room were the brightest he had ever seen. Each element was amplified and begged for his attention. The books on the tables, the paintings on the walls, and the plants around the room all came alive and greeted him with extraordinary personalities. When he closed his eyes, bright geometric patterns would dance around the back of his eyelids.

Phil and Julane placed their hands on him, and for the first time, John experienced one of the most profound parts of MDMA-assisted therapy: human connection.

He was wrapped in safety and comfort, and Phil and Julane took on the role of surrogate parents. “It felt like being bundled up and coming home from the hospital after you’re born,” John says. “It just felt that good.”

They told him to go in, drift inside his head, and let the medicine do the work.

His life began to come alive like a picture book on a coffee table. People in his life would come onto the pages in the most crisp, vivid colors he had ever witnessed. He could take his time flipping through every page, remembering the purpose or the lesson that each person provided him with. Time became abnormal, and he would feel like he had been in the picture book for hours. It would really only be about 30 minutes.

Phil and Julane would nudge him lightly after some time, and invite him to sit up. They had work to do. They would give him some gentle guidance, but ultimately, he would begin to talk about whatever was on his heart. “MDMA has some kind of intelligence that’s hard to describe, but it knows exactly what to bring up,” says John.

Marcella Ot’alora, the principal investigator for the Colorado PTSD trial, explains that MDMA activates certain parts of the brain while lessening the activity in others. It effects the amygdala, the part of the brain that elicits fear, by making it less active. It releases serotonin and oxytocin, which establishes a sense of wellbeing, encourages self-acceptance, and heightens the bonding with therapists. Judgement is also not so present, which makes patients feel kind and affectionate toward themselves and others. Ot’alora emphasizes that seeing yourself and the world this way, especially when processing trauma, is a critical component in therapy.

Words would fly out of John’s mouth with the ease of reciting the alphabet. He and the therapists would shed light on the darkest, most uncomfortable parts of his life. They would discuss and analyze, all going down the same road collectively, for an hour or two before John would start to lose energy. He would then lay down again and get lost in the picture book within his mind. This went on for about eight hours, and when the MDMA wore off, he would spend the night at the study-site. John says that this first session felt like he had done 15 years worth of therapy in one day.

The euphoria that John experienced is one that has stunned scientists and therapists for decades. MDMA was synthetically developed by a German company in 1912, but its use was dormant for several decades after the initial creation. It wasn’t until the 1970s that Dr. Alexander Shulgin, who obtained a biochemistry Ph.D. from UC Berkeley, first began to develop his own MDMA. After some self-experimenting, Shulgin relayed his excitement about the drug to Oakland psychiatrist Leo Zeff.

Zeff, mutually mystified by the healing powers of the drug, helped Shulgin spread the word to dozens of other psychiatrists and therapists - one of whom was John’s therapist, Phil. Their hope that the drug could enhance therapeutic practices showed promise, but their campaign was short-lived. Although MDMA’s value was becoming known in a small medical community, it was simultaneously gaining fame in the party scene.

The misuse of MDMA, paired with Ronald Reagan’s war on drugs, led to its placement as a Schedule I drug in 1985. This meant that it would be illegal, had no medical value, was likely to be abused, and lacked safety for use with medical supervision.

Though John was thrilled for what he believed would be a revolutionary therapy, the legalization of MDMA for therapeutic purposes has been difficult to fight for. The recreational use of the drug has resulted in a nationwide stigma. Especially since the rising popularity of raves, MDMA’s recreational use has been fatal for many in the U.S. The deaths related to the drug have also been publicized by the media perhaps more than any other drug in recent times. According to the Los Angeles Times, at least 29 people have died since 2006 because of drug-related causes at raves hosted by LA-based companies. A majority of them had MDMA in their system at the time of death.

These deaths, affecting people from the ages of 15 to 37, have understandably struck fear and anger into people all over the country. While the effects of MDMA are euphoric and otherworldly, the drug can be high-risk if used recreationally. Death is a possibility without safety precautions and a genuine understanding of how the body and the drug work together.

MDMA-related deaths have been caused by a multitude of different scenarios. Many people who died from MDMA-related causes were also found to have had other drugs in their bodies at the time, such as cocaine, heroine, and methamphethamines. Nevertheless, ecstasy or molly pills are almost never pure MDMA and can contain mixtures of other unknown substances.

Because high body temperatures are a natural reaction to MDMA, dehydration and over-hydration have also played significant roles in these deaths. Aside from the dangerous physical effects that can occur when an MDMA dose is not properly monitored, the mental effects can be just as damaging.

Environment is a crucial component for MDMA trips because, as experienced in the PTSD trials, the drug has the ability to bring up traumatic memories that may have been suppressed for years. Without proper preparation and guidance, the drug can cause mental anguish that can further traumatize people or lead them to take life-threatening measures.

Because of these possibilities for harm, MAPS researchers have put together strict protocols to ensure that their patients’ bodies and minds are protected at all times. This protection comes from a variety of mechanisms, the first being the therapists’ genuine knowledge of the drug and its powers. Their expertise is necessary to monitor the patient’s body, such as their heart-rate and body temperature, to observe any negative reactions to the drug. Because MDMA enhances the way the brain processes its surroundings, a balanced physical setting is also imperative. The trials require a fairly quiet environment, which is void of any external stimuli that could cause negative distractions. To further create a sense of safety and tranquility, blankets are provided and ambient music is encouraged. Perhaps most importantly, it’s crucial for the therapists and the patient to establish an alliance - a relationship that is built on trust and empathy. This is one of the most revolutionary components of the therapy as it proactively guides the patient to build healthy relationships and use human connection as a healing tool.

The trials have taken place in several parts of the world, including the U.S., Israel, and Sweden. So far, the small sample sizes have been relatively small, and almost all of the trials have been funded by one organization: MAPS. Though the trials have some questionable attributes, the results have been quite promising.

In 2008, Michael and Ann Mithoefer completed the first MDMA-assisted therapy clinical trial. They published the study in The Journal of Psychopharmacology in 2012, which aimed to treat individuals suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. They stated that out of 19 patients that received the MDMA treatment, 14 sustained significant benefits at their long-term follow-up, which occurred during an average of 3.5 years after the dosing. These results were measured by the Clinician Administered PTSD Score (CAPS), which shows the patients’ symptoms, as well as the severity of the symptoms. Two patients relapsed, and three did not complete a long-term follow-up, which results in a 74% positive result compared to 89% without the inclusion of those who did not follow-up. Though the results have been positive, what’s even more promising is the length of time it took for individuals to heal. Before the trials, each patient had received ineffective therapy for an average of close to 20 years. MDMA-therapy, on the other hand, was able to provide long-term healing for the majority of its patients after only two sessions, over a span of two months.

About a month after John’s first MDMA dose, he was back with his feet posted up on Phil and Julane’s tripping couch. He was lying on his back, staring up at the wooden ceiling. An oil vaporizer produced steam which danced around the room gracefully. The sun shined on the particles, and when the light struck a certain way, the steam slowly curled around the therapists’ faces.

He was mesmerized by the dancing steam when a thought suddenly struck him. It was a thought that had haunted him for years, one that he had convinced himself was the truth. His lips parted open, but before he could even get a syllable out, everything stopped. Even the faintest sounds had paused. The particles in the air stood in place. Phil and Julane stopped breathing. Time was still.

John heard a voice, partially in his head but also within the room. He felt an instant sense of guilt, like a puppy that had been caught chewing a shoe. Chills went down his arms all the way down to his feet, and the voice told him, “There’s only truth in this room.”

John knew instantly that the words that were about to come out of his mouth were false. Though he spent much of his life believing them, he hadn’t been honest with himself. Because his parents were so stern, he was always in fear of punishment. Even the thought of getting in trouble was terrifying, so John learned to lie. He became such a good liar that he began to lie even to himself. The voice halted him, and everything around him, to remind him of what was true. In that moment, John began to respect his own personal truth.

John’s dishonesty was one of several uncomfortable topics that the MDMA brought forth. Relationships, financial issues, self-esteem, and other tender spots were among the others. Though normally John would have been avoidant of these topics, the MDMA allowed him to talk through them with ease.

Family life was one of the most crucial things John analyzed during his sessions. He was born when his parents were only 19, and he felt that his upbringing lacked the warm affection that he had grown to crave. When presenting unpleasant moments, the MDMA would play short movies of his life back to him, with memories drifting from as far back as the age of five.

In the midst of his tripping, John saw a memory from when he was six years old. He had been outside playing with friends when another young boy purposely hit him in the mouth with a baseball bat. His lip was bleeding, and he ran home screaming with tears running down his face. John went to look for his father, expecting him to open up for a hug, clean his face up, and feel sympathy for his son. Instead, when he saw John, he stood up and filled the room with anger. He marched toward John, and John quickly forgot all about his bloodied lip. Now he was afraid of his father. He ran out of his house, while his father chased him for three blocks until he reached the house of the boy who hit him.

“Is this the boy that did this to you?” his father asked. John nodded his head.

“Was it an accident?” John shook his head.

“Okay,” his father said. “Hit him.”

John obeyed his father and proceeded to harm the boy who had bloodied his lip. Looking back on the memory, John remembered how brutal his father’s lesson was. At the time, he had always seen his father in that way - an aggressive, strict, and hardened man. But looking back, almost 50 years later, he began to understand that this was the only way his father knew how to care for him. Though he didn’t hug and kiss John when he came home sobbing, he taught John to stand up for himself in the way that his own father had taught him growing up. John grew to be what he calls “a gentle fighter,” one who fights with his words and deeds rather than with physical actions, but he came to understand that this self-defense mechanism stemmed from his father.

After his second session, John was faced with something he hadn’t felt in years. He felt courage. The MDMA, though powerful as it was, did not reveal answers to him in the open. Ultimately, he was left to sort through his experiences on his own. The feeling of bravery had almost become unfamiliar to him, but he wanted to act on it while he could. His body was still rebelling and he hadn’t been active in years, but he thought that now he might have the power to change that. He decided to purchase a pair of running shoes.

On that day, he went to his favorite old running trail. He was only able to walk and jog about half a mile. He breathed heavily as sweat ran down his face, and he finally made it back to his car. This was nothing compared to the 13 miles he used to run, but he was exhausted. Though his entire body ached, he felt a different kind of high - a surge of adrenaline, mixed with relief and gratitude.

“It hurt like hell, but it felt like my body was thanking me.”

John’s last session with Phil and Julane was perhaps the most pivotal moment of his life. John was lying down and looked over at Phil for a quick moment. Phil was staring out of the window, with the sunlight shining on his face, illuminating the tears that were running down it. Suddenly compelled by an urgency of strength, John sat up. “Lay it on me,” he told Phil. Their roles were now reversed.

For the first time in his life, John felt competent to hold a sacred space for someone else. Phil began telling him about his son Noah, who had died at 16 of leukemia. He told John about the family’s struggle to accept Noah’s fate, and how MDMA was one of the ways in which Phil and Julane established their own resilience. Eventually, after years of arguing and answer-searching, Phil, Julane, and Noah found acceptance. They understood that Noah would be gone soon, and he was able to die free of anger and full of gratitude.

Phil talked in detail about his son’s last moments, and how those memories triggered his tears. They were a reminder of why he was with John now. They were also a reminder of the goal of these trials: to find solace and fight in the face of death.

In the last hour of John’s final session, he was overcome with anxiety. His body began to shake as MDMA’s final messages were calling him to create an entirely new life. Phil and Julane, sensing his fear and angst, placed their hands on him in the same way that they did in the very beginning of his first session. John felt their gentle touch as he breathed heavily, and their watchful presence calmed him.

He began to get visits from different entities. He didn’t see them, but sometimes he would hear them. John compares this feeling to sitting up when you’re half-asleep. You wonder if someone is in the room or if the voices you just heard were even real. Then you realize that it was all just a dream. The entities came to him as if they were an extended version of this feeling - an amplified thought. Ultimately, it was his own heart and brain talking to each other. It was time for a serious meeting.

You’re working in the wrong business, they told him.

He had spent the past eight years building up his yacht-brokering company. At times, during the peak of his illness, it was all that kept him going. But if he continued, it would end up killing him - if it hadn’t already started doing so.

He would spend six months working on a deal, just for it to end when his clients’ egos would get in the way. Their worlds revolved around petty things, and his did, too. It didn’t make sense for life to be like this, especially when he didn’t even know how much life he had left.

You’re living in the wrong place.

Sausalito is a quiet, seaside town which was ideal for John’s business. For John himself, though, it wasn’t where he needed to be. The mornings were always cold and crisp, which only hardened his body more. It was an isolated town, full of wealthy, older folks. He needed to be in the sunshine, and he needed to be around people and places that were full of vitality.

You need to work on your relationships.

During his sessions, John had seen memories from his earliest years. He was able to analyze nearly every part of his life, including a cold relationship with his parents and a toxic relationship with an ex-girlfriend. He didn’t know how, but he would have to find a way to deal with them.

Lastly, they told him, You need to help people.

Today, nearly two years after completing the trial, John lives in Venice Beach, where the weather is warm and the people are wild. He shut down his yacht-brokering business, and his body is now 90% healed. Though the objective of the therapy was not to cure illnesses, the healing powers that Alexander Shulgin raved about when he first tried MDMA have proven to unite John’s mind and body.

His life wasn’t miraculously easy after the therapy, but he gained tremendous insights and tools to work his way through the hard parts. Simply having the mental capacity to get out of bed and aim for something healed John in several ways. “I learned to make friends with my body and to remember that it had been good to me for so many years before I was diagnosed,” he says. He began to change his unhealthy sleeping habits, he strictly managed his diet, and he began to exercise daily like he once did. He started practicing yoga again, which helped to improve the elasticity of his skin, and he’s currently trained to teach aerial yoga to older clients. Eight months after he huffed and puffed down the trail after his second MDMA session, he also ran a half-marathon.

John says the integration process is like being in a helicopter, overlooking the world underneath you from a bird’s eye view. Everything is beautiful, and the feeling of ecstasy is truly living up to its name. Suddenly, you’re pushed out of the plane. When you finally hit the ground, you land on a skateboard and you’re flying down a steep hill. Maybe you’ve never even ridden a skateboard before, but you’re forced to find a way to make it down the hill alive.

As with other psychedelics, the few days after an MDMA dose often come with a dark hangover. Because the brain has been so energized and overfilled with serotonin, the come-down can be bleak. For John, these days were difficult because he had to find ways to integrate the otherworldly awareness into his daily life. However, the darkest days were also the most promising when it came to understanding his experience. “A lot of people don’t like this part of the therapy, but that’s when you really need to look inside,” he says. “You write your thoughts down, take vitamins, drink a lot of water, and try to help your brain rebuild itself.”

During his sessions, John was aware that the feelings of bliss wouldn’t last forever, but the fact that he was able to feel emotions on such a deep level made him hopeful. If it was possible to feel that good on the drug, maybe he could feel the same without it. He’s gotten pretty close, but he finds euphoria in a much simpler form now. He likes to call them snapshots - mental pictures in which he takes the time to grab a moment and absorb it into his brain. It can take form in many ways, like running on his favorite trail, or getting lunch with a good friend and sitting next to a window, smelling your food coming to you. “It’s a cliche. People always say, Oh, live in the moment! It’s really easy to say, but you have to deliberately do it. It’s just a matter of grabbing sincere appreciation of something, even if it means you have to cry your eyes out sometimes.”

John’s integration process is still a work in progress, but he’s using his journey to help others who have come out of the trials or their own psychedelic experiences. After he shut down his yacht-brokering business, he started working on a company of a much different nature. Map to Remission, a play on both medical remission and life repurposing, aims to provide a community and resources to others who have been knocked down by a life-threatening illness. John holds weekly 3-Peer sessions in which he and two or three others Skype call to talk about their integration process. The point of the sessions is not to coach or counsel each other, simply because none of them are therapists or psychiatrists. Instead, they share their own experiences and provide unwavering support.

While he’s getting his company up and running, he’s also involved in other integration circles in Los Angeles. John and his peers work to protect people from using MDMA unsafely or as an escape route. It’s not meant to be used as a way to escape our real worlds, but rather as a way to better understand them. Education is proving to be one of the most crucial steps of the legalization of MDMA-assisted therapy, and John is doing his part to share his journey. The psychedelic community continues to grow rapidly, and John’s body and mind continue to heal in return.

“It turns out that community is some of the best medicine you could ever have,” he says.

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malloryrunsthis · 6 years

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Race Recap: Glass City Marathon

When I look back at this marathon, most of what I remember is the before and the after.

As we all know--because I have nattered on about it ENDLESSLY--I went into this race feeling under trained and injured. I took off from running for three full weeks to let my hip heal up. I ran six miles the Thursday before and then another three on Friday. I spent endless hours at the pool and in spin class to try to keep my fitness up. In the end, it sort of worked? You tell me.

Because I went in not feeling like I was 100% even going to run, I took a pretty lackadaisical approach to the whole weekend. I barely looked up anything in Toledo other than the address of the airbnb, I sort of threw random running gear into my bag the night before my flight and realized that I had lost my Body Glide and water bottles.”Oh well,” I thought, “I’m sure the expo will have some,” Thank God I had thought to buy gels, “just in case.”

Basically, I turned from a type-A into a type-Z person in the space of 24 hours and it was very weird.

I flew into Detroit on Saturday morning and ubered up to @elkay723‘s parents’ house where I met the lovely @er1nruns and @goaldengoats! Unfortunately for them, I was sort of tired from my early flight so I think I was in a little bit of zombie mode.

We headed out to Toledo in the early afternoon and over to the expo. It was small and cozy but luckily there was a vendor selling Body Glide and a little magnetic bottle I could attach to my running belt! I was saved! It was at the expo where I really decided, “okay, I’m going to do this and just see what happens.” I mean, I was there already, right? And people have run marathons on way less training (so I told myself).

After the expo, we grabbed lunch at a brewery and then headed to the airbnb.

Oh the airbnb. I am shamed, I can never book a place again. It ended up being in a not-great neighborhood which was unnerving. Additionally, the third bedroom had replaced it’s “queen bed” with an air mattress. Which I thought was going to be fine until I tried sleeping on it. Reader, it was not fine. It was COLD and very uncomfortable.

So basically, I ended up compounding a little sleep deprivation from the night before with a LOT of sleep deprivation. But I did get about four hours of sleep before it was time to get up and GO!

I had brought some throwaways with me that I wore to the starting line, including a pair of knee high socks to wear as arm warmers. I ended up dropping my pants and sweatshirt before the race even started and the socks got thrown during my first mile. It wasn’t warm yet but it wasn’t cold enough either.

My race plan was to stick with the 3:30 pacer until I couldn’t anymore. I had trained for a 3:20 but I knew that was totally out of the question given the condition I felt I was in. Even a 3:30 was going to be pushing it but I figured I could at least try to hit somewhere around there and be happy.

The first few miles passed quickly. The pace group I was in was VERY chatty. It was a good distraction although I did wonder if those people were so good they could keep that up all race or if they would eventually stop. I started feeling tired in mile three which was annoying but it was better than feeling hurt!

It was around mile 7, I think, that the split for the half marathon runners came up. I debated with myself if I should take it or keep going. My body was feeling okay though, and I had my phone on my in case I dropped out later, so I kept going.

The course was flat and wound around the nicer neighborhoods before going into a park. Inside the park, we hit a split that said Lap 1 and pointed right with Lap 2 pointing left so I knew that I was going to come through the area again. After the park, around mile 10, we hit an open road and that’s where the headwinds started. It wasn’t bad but it was noticeably harder to keep my pace up which was discouraging as I felt mile 10 was way too early for me to feel like this was hard.

By mile 16 the chatter around me had stopped but I hit a sort of second wind which was nice. I also told myself, just one hard tempo run left! At this point, I felt pretty good, if tired, and thought that I might actually pull off a little bit of a miracle.

Alas, it was not to be. When we entered the park again we hit some sort of slats and did a sort of zig-zagging and that’s when I started fading. By mile 21, my legs were starting to feel really sore and that’s when I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep up with the pace group anymore.

Those last five miles were some of the longest and hardest miles I think I’ve run in a long time. But I knew, if I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to keep going. I tried walking through aid stations and almost toppled over at one point. So I just had to shuffle along.

The last mile and a half wind you through the University of Toledo’s campus to the finish at the stadium. Of course, you can HEAR the finish line the entire time. I literally considered cutting the parking lot just to be done (I KNOW. I DIDN’T).

As we came up towards the stadium. I did my best to punch up the run a little. Then I heard someone who was already wearing a medal say something like: “don’t try to go faster, you’re almost done, you can’t do anything anymore.” or similar. WTF DUDE. Thanks for your TERRIBLE and really condescending advice?

Finally, finally, I came up into the stadium, heard the announcer say my name and did my best to not walk until I was over the finish line. Erin and Sarah came down cheering and screaming my name and I don’t think I could even talk to them. My legs were stiff as boards and every. single. part. of my body hurt. I just tried to walk it off as best as I could. I forced myself to drink some water but there was no way I could eat.

Unfortunately, my death hobble around made me miss @elkay723‘s PR FINISH! INCREDIBLE! Both she and @er1nruns got to ring the PR bell that day!

(stolen from @goaldengoats)

Once we had all recovered somewhat, we headed to the airbnb to shower and get the hell outta there. Brunch was when I regained my appetite--probably helped by the delicious avocado toast I had there.

Then, the social part of the weekend wound down. Erin and Sarah had to fly back home and I was dropped off at the airport hotel.

After all that, I think I went to bed around 8:30. I had a 4am wake up anyways because of course, I am a masochist and had to make sure I could work a full day the next morning.

It literally took me a full five days to walk like a normal human again. I made my boyfriend carry my luggage up the stairs to the bedroom. I have NEVER been so sore in my life.

In the end, I’m both really proud and disappointed in myself. On the one hand. I can’t believe I pulled off not even my worst marathon time but also a tiny BQ! On the other hand, that was not the experience or time that I had trained for and unfortunately, my time is not going to get me into Boston in 2019.

I don’t want to try to PR again this year. I think NYC is going to be too crowded for a PR and I don’t want to run three marathons in one year. So, the goal is to stop getting injured and try again next year.

Here are the stats!

#glass city marathon #race report #running #runblr

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dionysus-is-my-dude · 5 years

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A horror movie enthusiast’s thoughts on Halloween (2018)...

***warning: possible spoilers ahead (Also this is gonna be long)***

I was introduced to the horror genre at a very young age. Around five or so, if I remember correctly. I remember that I was at my dad’s friend’s house, and someone had put on “Jeepers Creepers”, the original one. I remember being absolutely terrified by the monster/demon/thing. But also terribly fascinated by a movie that 1. wasn’t an animated princess movie, and 2. depicted such graphic violence and scary images. The next day, my cousin and I were playing with walkie talkies and she kept scaring me by singing the Jeepers Creepers song. It scared me because I thought that, by singing the song, the monster would show up and eat us.

As a child, I had access to the library in my school, and nearly every single time we were sent to pick a book, I picked an edition of “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark”. The images scared me. The stories scared me. But I couldn’t stop reading everything, delighting in it in some twisted way.

The next horror film I watched was when I was around ten or so? It was the American version of “The Ring”. And instead of scaring me to the point of crying, I was incredibly fascinated by how it made me feel. Afraid, but in a way that felt exhilarating and FUN. My mom let me watch “Alien” and “Aliens” with her, which, though not classified as horror films, gave me the same rush.

From that point on, I was hooked. We’d go to the movie rental store and I’d rent scary movies that were popular at the time. I’d always search for scary TV shows to watch, like ghost hunting shows and other scary things. I became obsessed with the paranormal, playing with Ouija boards and doing hours and hours of research.

After a terrifying REAL experience with ghosts in which I was actually scared for my life, I took a long break from watching scary films. But that sure didn’t keep me away from them once I’d calmed down. Every horror film that was coming out, I was going to see. Every horror film on Netflix, I was watching. Ghost Adventures on TV? You bet I was watching it. Literally ANYTHING Tim Burton related? Yep, I’m on it. I was reading scary stories. I was doing research on horror films themselves and why people like me like them. I had nightmares and sleep paralysis and be extremely paranoid. But I couldn’t stop.

I started to learn the tricks and ins-and-outs that made horror movies, in my opinion, good. I learned that I dislike excessive jumpscares, and I avoid movies that seem like that’s all they’ll be -like several modern-day horror films like the recent “Insidious” entries and such. I realized that, as a music enthusiast as well, the music was what set the tone for me. If I thought the music -or lack thereof done properly- was great at causing suspense, I was feeling more scared. I learned that tension was more fun than jumpscares. Modern movies I love include the first two “Insidious” movies, “The Conjuring” series, and “Mama”. What I love about those films is not only the great background music, but the story and the lack of useless jumpscares. The imagery and focus of the shots are incredibly fun to watch, seeing things move in the background without the characters noticing, all that fun stuff.

But, with all the scary movies that come out nowadays, I’ve sorta lost my love for them. Nothing has really given me a good, fun scare in a long time. (”Annabelle: Creation” doesn’t count; that movie was both jumpscare heavy and openly too terrifying for me.) When I heard they were doing yet another “Halloween” sequel, I was prepared to have some good fun with my favourite classic slasher film.

I watched the original “Halloween” around twelve or so. I thought it was a good, campy slasher. My mom saw it when she was really little and has been scared of it ever since. Every year around Halloween-time, I scare her by playing the music around her or sending her pics of Michael Meyers that I find in costume shops. To me, it wasn’t scary. I had a ball watching it, not getting the real scares from it, but just having a good time watching the utterly silent Michael Meyers walk around just killing horny teenagers. Classic. I remember watching a marathon of the movies and barely remembering them because they weren’t as good or as fun as the first one. I’d resigned myself to “Halloween” being just a classic favourite of mine, nothing more.

Tonight, I saw the 2018 sequel, which takes place forty years after the events of the original movie....and I’m just...in shock. I went into the theater thinking I’d just crack jokes with my dad and cheer Michael on.

I left the theater with my heart pounding, my legs shaking, and a huge smile on my face. I knew I’d come home and be paranoid walking from my car to the backdoor. I know I’ll probably be paranoid for several weeks and see Michael everywhere.

I sat through that movie either bouncing my legs in my normal ADHD way and making commentary with my dad, or curled up in silent, paralyzed anxiety. This movie, for all the hype it got, was, in my opinion, horror gold. Story-wise, it was fantastic, of course. A wonderful sequel to the original, with homages galore and many tracks from the original score which brought back a lot of memories.

But from someone who had nearly given up on modern-day horror movies, this one gave me hope. Each shot was scary, the jumpscares wonderfully played out with not a lot of fake-outs, the music -the MUSIC- played just like in the original (which I thought at first would make this cheesy, but it was only scarier), and the tension tension tension was palpable. The entire movie was full of it. Every single scene with Michael in it was filled with silence and shaking heads from us in the audience, each of us helpless as he killed yet again.

I was unable to make jokes during this movie. I was too busy holding my breath and gasping in shock. I was too busy bouncing my leg, then pulling them both up and holding myself. The last twenty minutes or so, I was just...staring at the screen, my heart pounding. I had never felt so hushed in a theater while watching a horror film in my whole life. It felt like I was being held on a string with scissors dangerously close every time the music stopped. I was no longer playfully cheering Michael Meyers on, “Yasssss, honey, kill those stupid teens, yassss”. I was genuinely SCARED of him. I’d lived my whole life never once scared of Michael Meyers. I pranked my mom every single year with him. Even when her husband, who’s a big guy, ran around the house with the mask on, I was laughing more than anything. But I am now actually terrified of this deranged, masked killer. I understand how scared my mom was when she was little. I understand her fear after all these years. I actually ran from my car to my door, looking out into my pitch black backyard, actually afraid that I would see the dirty white of the mask before I inevitably was killed.

I can’t stop thinking about each scene where he killed someone. Each scene where he appeared out of nowhere, completely silent and merciless as he killed and killed and killed. The ending (SPOILER), I thought would satisfy me. After all these years, was Michael Meyers FINALLY dead? At long last, was the nightmare over? It...It’s hard to tell. We never actually saw his body being burned up. We just had to assume he died in the fire. I don’t know if that was deliberate to keep us guessing -which is genius-, but it was terrifying nonetheless.

Did I enjoy myself? Absolutely. It was a wonderful homage to my favourite classic slasher. It had all the classic Michael Meyers traits, like the eerie way he sits up when knocked down, the head tilt, his love of stabbing people and hanging them from things. Hearing the classic music was wonderful. The story was perfect and made sense. The twist -if you can call it that- was a little predictable but quickly resolved. The continuous shots, especially the ones in complete silence, were absolutely incredible to watch. As soon as the credits started, I felt like I’d just gone through a life-changing experience.

What is it about “Halloween” and Michael Meyers that brings a smile to my face? Is it the fact that he never once -not even once in over ten films that’ve been made- utters a single word? Barely even makes a sound unless he’s been, like, hurt or something. His superhuman strength, able to take on every single victim he goes through? His odd fascination with his kills -the head tilt as he looks at his victims? Why is the music so scary, even though it seems like cheesy 70s synth? I’m just...so confused and amazed that this franchise has been going off and on for over forty years and it’s THIS movie that actually scares me. Maybe because it takes place in modern day, instead of years and years ago?

Whatever the reason, I hope horror filmmakers take note. THIS is how you make a good, memorable scary movie. Don’t use jumpscares as a crutch. Jumpscares are the laziest way to scare people. If people wanted jumpscares, they could go to a haunted house. But this movie did horror so WELL. The tension was fantastic. The music was great. The shots were done beautifully. The actors were all incredible. I just love every bit of this movie and wish I could just rewatch it for the first time over and over and over. If more horror movies were done like this, I would pay more money to see them in theaters.

Ok, mega post over. I just loved the movie so so much and I wanted to share my too-big feelings before I attempt to go to sleep and make myself understand that Michael isn’t in my closet.

#personal #horror movies #halloween #halloween 2018 #michael meyers #i have a lot of feelings

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spellyjane · 6 years

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Splashed, Mashed and Dashed on to the podium at Kona!

THAT'S ME, 3RD W45-49 IN THE 🌏

After my 1st go at this race in 2017, I was a little torn. Part of me was happy to tick IRONMAN World Championships off my list and never put myself through that sufferfest again. I hated it, it was hot, the run was horrible, and I found the layout of the transition, spectator areas and general logistics to be claustrophobic ordeals. However, on the evening after that 2017 race, I saw athletes heading home from the award ceremony with their ukeme bowls and I felt a strong pang of want. My race had not gone to plan, I knew I could do better and I wondered where a good day at Kona would put me. After a few more weeks of reflection and recovery I decided that yes, I needed to give it another go.

I started to write my thank yous at the end of this report, but I realised that I may lose a few of you along the way and this is important. Thank you to my biggest fan and supporter, Simon. I love chasing him up hills on bikes, holding his wheel all these years had made me a better person and without his encouragement and support I just could not do this. My coach, Rick Schopp, gosh, I feel like I say this all the time, but he pushes me where I don’t always want to go and he must find it hard to sleep with all the pins I stick into that voodoo doll, (I have taken them all out now.) I thank him especially for pushing me, for listening, for calling me out when I am being a slack ass and for the awesome giggle when he hears my results. Thank you to my team at INTENT, the messages before and after were off the charts! I know a whole bunch were tracking me all day and I was sending my thanks every time I hit a timing mat! Thanks to my Dad for coming all the way from Sydney to cheer and sherpa, that was pretty awesome. I don’t get to see him enough, to have him there was really special.

DAD, READY TO CAPTURE IT ALL

So I found myself at the starting line of this year’s race in quite a different headspace. I had 2 more humbling Ironman experiences under my belt, a crazy amount of fitness gained from lots of training in our new 1750m above sea level abode and some practiced heat coping strategies. I was going for a top 10 finish and a course PR regardless of the weather. My race plan was full of lessons learned from last year, paces, watts, calories, salt and heat coping strategies. I hoped I could pull it all off but I knew that at some stage I would run out of script and just have to ad lib.

7:20am - BOOM! I am swimming. My mission was 8:35 per 500m. This would give me about 1 min faster than last year. I got kicked and pummelled last year so I positioned a little left to avoid the chaos. It worked, it was busy but not as bad. My watch buzzes every 500m, the glance at my splits was telling me we had a bit of current assist on the way out. So when we made the turn I just dug in and pushed hard, trying not to lose too much of the time I had gained on the way out. I kept asking myself if I was going hard enough and could I push any harder, I kept reminding myself to stay on the gas all the way to the finish. I reached the sand and scrambled up the stairs, already thinking about how I was going to execute T1. Thank goodness for the volunteers helping out here as I was almost wiped out by a wave that came crashing over the stairs as I was trying to read the time on my watch. Woo hoo, 1:06:40, 3 minutes faster than last year.

OK, NOW FOR A LITTLE BIKE RIDE

I was handed my T1 bag and ran into the change tent. With the help of a volunteer I was on my way in moments. I was jogging along at the pace of the pack as we made our way to our bikes, I turned on some hussle when I remembered that I was racing! I saw the lamp pole I’d scoped out to landmark my aisle earlier that morning and made the turn, I found my bike no problems. I had opted to clip my shoes in pre race, so by the time I reached the mount line my socks were super soggy from the saturated carpeting. My feet were never dry all day, I’d post a pic of the result but I don’t want to freak y’all out too much. 😱 The mount line was a bit of a zoo but I made it out in one piece! 3:13 about 1:30 faster than last year.

My first 15 minutes of riding were at an intensity (IF) of .78, oops! I was aiming for .66, my goodness, this is rookie territory! Clearly I was a bit amped and buzzed with the good swim start. I lost a bottle of electrolytes/nutrition on a bump at the 5k mark but did not sweat it. I had a back up in my special needs bag located up in Hawi at about the 100k mark. I was taking on cals and salt every 30 mins, I was taking water bottles and refilling my built in hydration bag and keeping a spare bottle on the back cage. I had some additional electrolytes to add to the water while I was on the go as well. It was not as hot as last year, my data recorded an average temp of 32C with a high of 37C, last year I recorded and average temp of 36C and a high of 39C. We seemed to have a tiny bit of cross head wind on the way out to the Hawi turn around. I started to pay attention to race numbers. Last year I did not realise that we would not have our age groups tattooed to our calves and I didn’t realise that the race numbers were grouped in ages. I was on to it this year and I knew the range I was racing. At this point, I was doing all the passing, I don’t recall being passed by anyone in my age group at all on the bike.

PROBABLY DOING 500W HERE 😜

I was pushing a few extra watts than I planned in order to keep out of draft zones and it did not seem to be hurting me. I struggled last year to hold my watts and ended up with an IF of .64 and in Boulder earlier this year same thing happened and I went .62, I put this down to the heat. I have managed .69 in other races but felt that that was too aggressive for Kona, knowing how brutal that run can be, so I felt that .66 was a good stretch for me this year. But on the day I felt like I was holding way too much back at those watts so I let loose a bit. Besides, I was kind of enjoying myself. The climb up to Hawi felt insignificant and I was well on my way to smashing out a great bike. I saw some folks holding out an Aussie flag right at the U turn, crikey, that shit slays me, I felt quite emotional.

The ride back to Kailua was good. I was not cracking. I pushed on, crunching splits in my head and feeling really good. I started to ease up a little and spin at a little higher cadence to get ready to run. I came in at 5:10:23, a big course PR, and unbeknownst to me at the time this 4th fastest bike split had me sitting in 3rd place.

I handed my bike off to a volunteer and ran into the change tent. Helped by another volunteer I threw my shoes on, grabbed my race belt (all loaded up with my gels, hat, number and emergency Immodium) and took off. I missed the sun screen, not on purpose, I just did not see any. Ugh, this sport is turning me into a melanoma snack bar. I got out on the run with a T2 of 3:02, again, saved another 1:30 on last year.

I had loaded my pocket pre race with a couple of nylon panty hose cut into long sock lengths. At the 1st aid station I filled one up with ice and tied it around the back of my neck, it dripped icy cold water down my back for about 30 min. It was awesome. I was using some new gels, loaded with salt and a lower but isotonic sugar concentration. They go down so so easy and have as much salt as the salt tablets I was taking on the bike. I had zero gut issues this year. I calculated that last year I spent about 7 minutes in the toilets throughout the race and spent a good deal of time in a lot of discomfort. This year no problems at all!

BEFORE IT GOT TOO UGLY 😂

I was holding a conservative pace, dying a little on the hills but pulling it back up on the flats and descents. I was not able to see the race numbers of the girls I was passing and being passed by. I was told by a friend at about the 3km point that I was in 3rd. I was passed by Elisabetta (she went on to 2nd place) just before the halfway point so I wondered if that put me in 4th. I came up upon my friend Jeff, we reached an aid station together, I grabbed a water and dumped it down his back, I can't remember what I said, but he wished me well and I pushed on. Another friend at about 21k told me that I was in 3rd and I was shocked. I was not sure where the other girls were but dang I knew they would be coming. I was remembering that feeling of seeing those ukeme bowls awarded to the top 5 and I began to think I could really get one. The toughest part of the race was the climb up out of the energy lab, the sun on my back was awful and I was tired. I let my pace fall to a level that apparently had my husband and my coach, who were tracking me via the timing mats, having heart attacks. What I did not know, but what they could see was that I was being ferociously stalked by the gal in 4th place, she was gaining on me at at rate that had Simon and Rick on the edge of their seats. I am glad I was oblivious to the actual threat. I made it back up onto the Queen K and just held onto the pace as best I could. I told myself to NOT slow down. The last 8k were tough, I was scared of every foot fall behind me. That kept me moving for sure. I made that last soul and body draining climb of the run, passing the crazy awesome peeps at the Base Performance tent before making that divine turn down Palani Drive. I bounded down that hill smiling my head off. I still had 2k to go but I was so close and the hard part of the course was done. Now it was time to wave to my Dad and friends, smile big and bring it home. I was passed by a gal in the finish chute, and I wondered if I had just lost 3rd but I did not care, I knew I had one of those bowls. I nearly choked when I saw my time too. Whaaat! A 3:42:01 marathon gave me a finish time of 10:05:19. So much to be happy about!

WHAT DID I JUST DO!?

A bit of post race asthma had me into the med tent. Ugh, thanks to Christian and Meredith for helping me out. I was still in the med tent when I turned my phone on to dozens of messages. The 1st one I opened was from Simon, it said, “3rd place, woo hoo!” I lost it, ugly happy crying, “I am ok!” I wheezed at the poor alarmed medic who did not know what to make of my sudden heaving outburst.

So that was the race, I have left out so many details, but to sum up, I feel like I had one of my most perfect races. With hindsight, I feel like I could have pushed a tiny bit harder on the bike, but I could not have know that till after. I wished I could have run under 3:40, I know in hindsight that I could not, I really did not leave anything out there. That 2 mins would not have made a difference in my placing, I just wished I could have held onto my pace. That gives me something to work on and I am fine with that. I will call this an Ironman PR, (my 10:04 in Cozumel does not count because of the massive current assisted short swim course.) I am not sure that I want to right now... but I think I can still wring a little more out of this body. I really want to go under 10 hrs! As for placing 3rd in the women’s 45-49 AG, (IN THE WORLD - tee hee) I am really happy, happy that I was able to pull together my best performance on a day when it really mattered. I absolutely know that I had some fierce competition out there, I know their A games and so I know that their days did not all go to plan, so I remain inspired, vigilant and on my toes.

Kudos to many many athletes on the day for pushing through the heat and distance to achieve some great results. My very good friend Jeff, had his 1st go at Kona after many years in the sport.

PRE RACE SELFIE WITH JEFF

This was a dream day he never thought he would have, his joy, emotion and pride at being there was written all over him! He a great day, he was beaten up a little by the run but his smoking bike made up for it and his overall time was where he said he hoped it would be. I bet he goes back for another crack. Kudos to my other Jeff, (I have a couple,) Jeff B took about 50 mins off his 2017 time. Kudos to Lindsey my friend the human fish who gutted out a run after tearing something important in her hip in T2. I mean she really gutted it out, she was black and blue but she still pulled off a very tidy performance.

The awards ceremony - ahh, where to begin without sounding like a real cow. Sorry, Ironman, this was not awesome. Charging my Dad $55 to eat dinner off a paper plate with a bottle of water at an out door folding table with a plastic table cloth made me a little mad. It was the only way to get into the awards so what can you do?

I made the most of my time on the stage, soaking it in, congratulating Janette, Elisabetta, Linda and Tanja with whom I shared the podium. I just wish my Dad had a telephoto lens to capture the moment a little more clearly. (I guess they assume we are all happy to buy the Finishers Pix.)

Family and friends were restricted to a barricade well away from the stage and off to the side to accommodate the VIP area and TV camera scaffold. VIPs were standing up and walking around with backs to the stage making it difficult for us common Age Groupers to get a picture of one of the MOST AWESOME MOMENTS OF OUR LIVES. I really could go on, but I will put it all in my survey.

One last heart felt thank you to the IRONMAN volunteers, I met people who flew in from all over the world to volunteer (including Meredith and Scott from BC Canada!) and thank you to the locals who embraced the chaos and gave up their time to help put this show on. I had many wonderful experiences with many volunteers, I am so grateful for all the help and cheers!

#racewithintent #triathlon #iamspecialized #kona #ironman #ironmanworldchampionships

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cssns · 6 years

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Drum roll please!!! Welcome @snowbellewells to the CSSNS!!!

Hello everyone! We now turn the spotlight on @snowbellewells for our CSSNS author spotlight! Everyone go say hi!

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

nearly 5 years (since my bestie and I mainlined Seasons 1 and 2 marathon-style the summer before Season 3 began)

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

I definitely noticed their chemistry from pretty much the moment they met, but I couldn't decide if we were supposed to like Killian/Hook nearly as much as I found myself liking him... When Emma gives him that speech about "understanding each other" and he comes back with the bean, I started to think it was a possibility, and once Season 3 began, I was shipping them hardcore! :)

What drew you to this event?

Well, mostly it was a desire to see more werewolf stories in particular written for Captain Swan. Plus, I've had the idea for my own werewolf fic in mind and roughly sketched out for some time, and joining this event seemed excellent motivation to get myself in gear writing it!

What inspired your topic?

Part of it is my love of other werewolves in fiction (Jacob Black, Remus Lupin, etc.), part of it is wanting to explore some of the particular characteristics often used with werewolf protagonists through Killian's character, part of it was the chance to include Ruby and Graham (two of my favorite secondary characters) prominently in a canon divergence, and then there's also my love of tragic, meant-to-be-but-can't-be-together type romances... ;)

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

I do have a snippet, but it's from somewhere in the early middle of the fic, so certainly know that there would be more setup and introduction, etc. before this scene...

“Emma!” an exclamation of alarm tore from his throat, though nearly swallowed by a hum of pleasure before he broke their embrace. “Mmm, L-lass…No!” Killian jerked away sharply, icicle bright eyes flashing, mouth open, gaping wide-eyed at her as he gripped her biceps firmly to hold her at arm’s length. That tongue, which had starred in so many of her salacious reveries while she filed paperwork on slow afternoons at the station or lay sleepless in bed night after night wondering where he was, if he was awake as well, and what that tongue might feel like trailing across her skin, traced his lower lip, teasing her, as he panted roughly, trying to regain his breath. His voice was hoarse, pained, but desperately serious when he spoke again. “Stop, Emma…please. We can’t.”

“And why is that?” she challenged, her own eyes flashing, frustrated that he had pulled back just when she finally found the courage to offer herself – to give them a chance. Her voice crackled in the charged air between them, wavering as she stepped right into his space again, body practically vibrating with their nearness and her fervent determination.

Jones raked an agitated hand through his unruly hair, making the inky-dark strands stand on end wildly. His hand slapped loudly back down against his jean-clad thigh as he blew out a harsh breath, and Emma could sense the strength and power coiled tightly within the man who faced her, chest heaving, muscles clenched, and body barely restraining his desire to pace or to flee, however iron-willed his control. It was clear that stepping up to lay a hand on his arm, to take his hand – even in comfort – might snap his tightly held grip.

Meeting his eyes squarely all the same and refusing to let him pull away, Emma pressed in a bit further, a step that carried her toward him again, even as he edged back enough to match it. “Please Swan… Emma…You have to stay away. If we did this…What I am…” he licked those perfect lips, stumbling for words to offer explanation. The nervous action only drew her eyes more pointedly to his mouth however; that firm mouth which had been devouring her whole mere minutes past, kissing her senseless until he had ripped them apart, leaving her desperately wanting… “I’m a danger to you. You must know that. I could hurt you all too easily – as could those who aim to hurt me – and I can’t bear to be the cause… I – I just couldn’t live with myself. Not again.”

His eyes were stormy and dark as he turned his head to break away from her direct stare. The blue depths of them roiled with unsettled emotion and fear, even as he grit his teeth, shaking his head once more while she stepped forward, faster this time than he could retreat.

Catching his arm, Emma quickly brought her hands to either side of his unshaven face, letting her fingertips lightly stroke along his warm skin. “I don’t care,” she countered firmly, even as she noticed part of the reason his gaze was so turbulent was that the usually pure sky blue had been shot through with almost unnatural dark swirls, changing them to something turbulent and unsettled; matching the change that the rest of him would undergo before the night was through. “Do you think I don’t know what you are? What it does to you? Or what…” she faltered for only a moment, and then pulled him down a bit, close enough that she could bring his forehead to rest against her own, “what it’s cost you?”

Killian opened his mouth to argue once more. Emma could see the warnings and self-loathing even before he began. A wild urge took over her in that moment; one every bit as heady and compelling as the force she knew he battled. Anxious to cut him off, to stop him from again going through all the reasons she should leave him alone for her own good, Emma simply surged up the last few inches separating them, grasped the lapels of the open flannel shirt he wore and hauled his wiry frame down to meet her. She took his lips back again with her, own, doing the devouring herself this time.

Jones held his body rigid and statue-still for two, then three, agonizing seconds before a rumbling growl echoed from deep within his chest. She felt the vibration of it at her palms pressed between their bodies. A thrill ran up her spine at the raw, animal sound – just a hint of the primal instinct he held in check. Then his hand was fisted in her hair while the other clutched at her waist, and he pressed closer, claiming her mouth right back.

In the second before Emma closed her eyes and gave over to feeling completely, she mused – probably not half as frightened as she ought to have been – that the wolf seemed to have broken free...

So, yeah, I am soooo here for this!!! I cannot wait!!! Marta is an amazing writer and I am beside myself that she is participating! You can find the rest of her works here. She is doing 2 fics for us and they drop on Aug. 4 and 24. So everyone go say hi and welcome her to the CSSNS!!!

#cssns #@snowbellewells #GTKM interviews

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