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backtobackbakubabe · 3 years

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Speak Easy Part 18

Dabi x Reader, Bakugo x Reader

Words : 4276

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together.

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

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It’d been a little over a week since Shoto promised to go to the doctor with you and you were getting a little nervous. At first you were just waiting for the doctors to get settled in, but then Shoto was busy helping get things up and running and evacuating people to the bunker. Now you’ve just been chickening out.

Your period was a few days late, which wouldn’t be concerning if it weren’t for your current circumstance.

You woke up this morning and made a cup of coffee before taking Bravo out for a stroll around the bunker. He loved being able to run around and meet new people. He was a hit with the kids. They loved playing with him almost as much as he loved playing with them. The only downside was, there was only two places in the entire massive bunker that he could go to the bathroom. The farm and a small animal relief area near where the trash is dumped.

Needless to say, neither smelled great, but the farm was considerably better. So here you were, sitting on a small platform that oversees the crops with a cup of coffee and a book. Bravo sitting next to you keeping watch.

It was always a little chilly down here, which you honestly preferred. It just meant you could wear lots of hoodies. The more you could hide your body the better. Ever since leaving Dabi’s house you felt like you were always being watched. You felt so exposed and you just wanted to blend into the background.

Today you wore a new hoodie that Izuku had gotten you. It was probably one of the softest things you owned, and it was the prettiest shade of blue. The blue reminded you of a certain someone’s eyes… of the beautiful blue flames they were capable of creating… but then you’d shake the thought from your head and pull it closer around you.

You were enjoying your new freedom. Not that Dabi’s house had been a prison… but you hadn’t realized how much you missed doing things on your own. You had thought being alone would be hard, but you were thriving. It was never being alone that bothered you before, it had been his absence.

Against Katsuki’s wishes… Shoto had shown you the photos of what was left of Dabi’s car. And he hadn’t been exaggerating. You had almost passed out looking at how much blood soaked the driver seat and even the road around it.

You had been so lost lately. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. Your heart ached. You thought you had finally found your home. You had finally started to feel your pieces come back together. Now you felt like that would never happen. He took the last few pieces of your heart with him and you felt like you would never be whole again.

Dabi had been your comfort, your safety, your home. Now you were lost.

You hated that you felt this way. You should hate him. You should curse his fucking name. You shouldn’t be crying yourself to sleep over his death.

His death…

Was he dead? You weren’t convinced. It was too convenient, and there wasn’t a body. You wanted proof. Until then you’d go on believing he was still out there.

You closed the book you were reading. You had been on the same page for the past 10 minutes.

There was no way he wrecked his car like that. You had been in the car with him twice. Yes, he drove a little fast… but he wasn’t reckless. Either it was an elaborate cover up, or someone was after him. Or maybe… someone had been after you and he had gotten stuck in the middle as collateral damage.

“You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

Shoto came and took a seat next to you. “I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I’m pretty sure I already know.”

“Am I that obvious?” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

He leaned his head on top of yours. “It’s normal. I’d actually be surprised if you weren’t torn up over it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t stop worrying about him. I keep wondering where he is. If he’s okay. If there’s some grand explanation for his shitty behavior.” You shrugged. “I’m just finding it hard to grasp that the same man who held me during my panic attacks was also secretly planning to breed me… It just doesn’t add up.”

“Guilt does weird things to people.” Shoto’s hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “I know he’s my brother, but I have no doubts about who knew him best. I only know a version of him. I only knew what he wanted me to.” He sighed, “It was obvious you meant a lot to him, and I could see him becoming more… I don’t know… human? For the first time in years he was showing emotions that weren’t rage. It would make sense if you were starting to make him question what side he was on.”

Your eyes narrowed, “So what? You think he did some shitty stuff and decided to help me… because he felt guilty about it? That doesn’t make any sense.” You pushed away from him to look him in the eyes. “Dabi only does what Dabi wants to do. That has been clear to me since day one. So what the fuck did he want out of this? None of it makes sense. Was I just a possession to him? Was I a bargaining chip? Was I just some broken pet that he got validation from nursing back to health? What?!”

You could feel your hysteria building and Bravo put his head in your lap in an attempt to calm you down. You took a few deep breaths. “He better fucking be alive… so I can kick his ass myself.”

Shoto chuckled, “Touya doesn’t stand a chance.”

His eyes looked distant and sad. You nudged his shoulder with your own, “Hey can I ask you something?”

He blinked away whatever far away memory he was thinking about, “I don’t see why not.”

“What was he like? Touya I mean… Before he became Dabi.”

Shoto’s lip turned up just slightly, “He was the best big brother I could have ever had. He was always there to help me when our dad was too rough with me. My dad tried to keep us separated… didn’t want me mingling with what he considered to be his biggest failure.” You flinched at the casual way he talked about the abuse they endured. “But Touya would sneak into my room at night. He taught me how to handle my burns and would bring me cold soba on bad days.” His eyes glassed over, “I was devasted when he died. Well… when I thought he died.”

“I blamed my dad, we all did. So, when he came out of hiding, it was like this enormous weight had lifted off of my shoulders. I hadn’t even realized I was carrying it around, but I had never truly gotten over his death.” He chuckled, “So I went looking for him. I didn’t care if he was Touya or Dabi, I just wanted him in my life again. I’d take what I could get. So, I settled for our don’t ask don’t tell relationship.”

You felt a tear that wasn’t yours hit your lap. Of course this would be hard on Shoto, he’s potentially lost his brother for the second time. “If it makes you feel any better… He admitted to me that he loved you.” You smirked, “Well actually he told me he used to hate you which contradicts your story quite a bit. But he said he always wondered if things would have been better for you if he stuck around.”

Shoto laughed, “Sounds like him. Trying to act like the tough guy who didn’t give a shit… Just like how he was with you. I can’t tell you how many times he called me when he was gone checking on you. Texting me every single time your vitals spiked. He would check the cameras and send me voice memos about how he was going to beat my ass if I didn’t keep my hands where he could see them while we were sparing. But then he would deny it when I asked what going on between the two of you.”

“Hey, come on, I have an idea.” You stood and walked over to the corner of the field behind a small tool shed. You picked up a massive rock and moved it so it was hidden from view. “Can you burn his name into it?”

Shoto eyes darkened, “You want to have a funeral? We don’t even know if he’s dead…”

You nodded, “You’re right we don’t… but I think it’ll make it easier. We can have a place to morn him in private. Weather we mourn his death… or the death of who he could have been.”

Shoto’s shoulder slumped and eventually he nodded. His hand heated up and with his finger he wrote on the rock, “R.I.P. TOUYA”

You both sat there for a while just staring at the rock. You felt too cold standing here in the shade of the tool shed. You gripped your hoodie closer to you and held back the tears that you desperately wanted to shed. You knew you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think of Touya. You thought about what he would have been like if he had gone to UA. If he had become a hero. If you had met him under better circumstances. Would the two of you still have ended up together? Without your mountains of combined trauma would you even be the same people?

“You ready? We should head out soon or we’ll be late for your appointment.”

You rubbed your eyes and sniffled, “Yeah… let’s get this over with.”

Bravo wasn’t allowed in the medical side of the bunker, so you made a quick detour to your room to drop him off. Shoto quietly following behind you. “So how are things with you and Bakugo?”

You groaned and rubbed your temples.

Shoto chuckled, “That good huh?”

“He’s been hovering over me like I’m going to shatter into a million pieces at the slightest inconvenience. I appreciate what he’s trying to do… but it’s just too much. I told him I needed space… and we had a fight. He hasn’t spoken to me in two days.”

Shoto whistled, “I never thought I’d see the day that the two of you had a real fight. Sure, you always bickered like an old married couple growing up. But on anything serious he always caved to your every wish.” He paused at your door, “Wait. So, are you the reason he’s been extra grumpy lately?”

You blushed, “I don’t know… Maybe?”

You gave Bravo an extra scratch behind his ear before closing the door. At that same moment you heard the door next door click shut. Your eyes snapped up to meet Katsuki’s. “Oh hey… I didn’t know you were back from the surface yet.”

“Got back early this morning… I was actually on my way to see you. You have a time to get an early lunch? I want to talk to you about something.”

You played with the ends of your hair, which was an immediate give away that you were nervous. “I actually have some plans with Shoto. But I’m free after that. Shouldn’t take too long though.”

His eyes narrowed at your nervous posture and you cursed how well he knew you. “Oh yeah? What are you guys up to? Maybe I’ll tag along.”

You began to stutter but thankfully Shoto interrupted, “Clingy isn’t a good look for you Bakugo. Like she said… it’s not going to take long. Just wait here and she’ll be back soon.”

You saw Katsuki bristle and decided to step in before he picked a fight with Shoto. You stepped over to him and put your hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I just dropped Bravo off. He’s had some pretty bad separation anxiety lately so why don’t you go to my apartment and hang out with him while I’m gone. Make some coffee, pick out a movie or something. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk then.”

His posture softened as he looked you up and down. It was obvious to him that you were nervous. But he was trying his hardest to give you the space you wanted. He pulled you to him as he sighed, trapping you in his arms. “Okay fine. I’ll babysit the mutt. Can you do me a favor and bring back some migraine medication from the medical ward. My heads killing me.”

You nodded stiffly, hoping it was just a coincidence he needed something from the medical ward. “Not a problem. I have the weighted blanket you gave me on the couch if you want to take a nap while I’m gone. You look like you could use one.”

He squeezed you tighter to him. “I’ll be fine.” He leaned his head on top of yours. “I’ll be better once we stop fighting about stupid shit though.” He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll see you when you get back.” He released you and looked to Shoto, “Try to behave. The two of you hanging out makes me nervous.”

Shoto chuckled, “Good. You should be nervous. If you don’t figure your shit out soon, I’ll be taking your best friend spot… Kacchan.”

You snorted as you pulled Shoto away. “Are you trying to get your ass kicked? You know only Izuku gets away with calling him that! Well… and me when he’s in a good mood. But even that’s pushing it.”

“Oh, he’ll get over it. He needs a reality check. He thinks the world revolves around him.” He led you down the hall. “He can be such a pain sometimes. But I will admit he’s so much easier to be around now than when we were in high school.” He bumped your shoulder, “In a way it’s thanks to you. As sad as it is, when you went missing, he matured. It was like out of nowhere he realized there were more important things in the world then him and his hero status.”

Something about talking about Katsuki’s emotional vulnerability while walking to the clinic to check if you were pregnant with Dabi’s child made you feel slimy. “Can we talk about something else. Literally anything else. How are you and Izuku doing?”

“Good… we settled into our room. It’s a nice enough room… but it’s right next to my dad’s room. Apparently he’s thought all this time that we were just roommates.” He threw his hands up and scoffed, “Honestly! Did he think we were both professional heroes, making tons of money, but couldn’t afford to live on our own?”

You giggled, “That sounds awkward. These walls aren’t exactly thick.”

“Oh believe me I know. And I don’t care. Poor Izuku though can’t even look my dad in the eye now without blushing.”

You laughed so hard you had to wipe away a tear. “Aw poor Izuku… He’s too innocent for this world.”

Shoto scoffed, “Innocent my ass. That man is a freak in—”

You held up a hand. “Stop, stop, stop! I don’t want to know. He is a pure innocent little muffin who used to braid my hair before workouts.”

“I thought Bakugo was the one who braided your hair? I can’t imagine him being okay with Izuku being that close to you.”

You laughed. “Oh he wasn’t at first. But mostly because Izuku was better than him at something. Kats liked to braid my hair in private while we watched TV.” You shook your head at the memory, “He actually got to be really good at it eventually.”

Shoto had succeeded in distracting you long enough to make the trip to the medical ward, but now that you were here the anxiety was creeping back in.

You paused before crossing the threshold. You knew it was important to find out once and for all if you were pregnant. But you were also enjoying living in ignorance. The fact that you didn’t know meant that you could live your life as normal. If you were pregnant… it would flip your entire world upside down. You would have a life you would be responsible for, a little human that would constantly remind you of the love that almost broke you.

If you weren’t pregnant then… you didn’t know how you would feel. Would you be relieved? Would you mourn?

Your hand found your flat stomach and clenched your shirt. You took a few steps further into the ward and was hit an overwhelming sterile smell. Your breathing hitched and your knees shook. It was too clean. It was too white. It reminded you too much of the lab.

Shoto’s hand took yours and gave it a soft tug. “Hey. It’s fine. You don’t have to do all of this. I can go in and request a pregnancy test and we can go back and do this in your room. Would that make you feel better?”

You shook your head, “Katsuki’s there…”

Shoto’s shoulders sagged, “At this point I think he’d be more upset at you hiding this from him. I’m not telling you how to live your life. I think you’ve earned the right to do whatever the fuck you want. But if it were me… I’d want as big of a support system as I could get…”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about it. Did you want Katsuki to know? How would he react? What if you were pregnant? Would he be disgusted with you? Would he want to help? Your head was spiraling down a rabbit hole of what it and it was starting to make you dizzy.

“Hey, breathe! Just take a deep breath. Let’s get you out of here before you have a panic attack. Wait outside for me. I’ll get everything we need.

You pushed the wave of anxious nausea down and gave a shaky nod. “Okay… But remember to get some migraine medication for Ka—”

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember. Go sit down outside and try and focus on your breathing I’ll be right back.”

You made your way outside and immediately sat down and leaned your forehead on your knees. You needed to get these invasive thoughts under control. You thought about what Dabi used to do. He would sit with you and try and distract you by talking about random shit. You knew he’d be pissed if he knew his younger brother left you all alone during one of your episodes. The thought of him yelling at Shoto was almost enough to make you chuckle.

You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds and started listing animals that start with the letter A. When you couldn’t think of any more you breathed out. Then you repeated the process with the letter B, then C. You had made it F when Shoto made his way back to you.

“Okay, so they gave me some weird looks. Which makes sense considering I am a gay man asking for pregnancy tests. But they didn’t ask too many questions. I have two tests, a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a phone number for a doctor… you know, for if it’s positive.”

You took his outstretched hand and stood up. “Okay… let’s get this over with.”

Every step towards your room felt heavier than the last. You just wanted to curl up under your blanket and pretend none of this was happening.

You hesitated at your door for a few moments before remembering you were a tough bitch and barreled through it full of false confidence.

You expected to see Katsuki lounging on the couch watching something on the tiny TV. Instead you found him passed out with Bravo curled up next to him. The sight of it calmed your nerves.

“Hey Shoto, can you get some coffee going? I’m going to wake him up.” You tiptoed over to him and sat on the edge of the couch. “Hey…” You shook his shoulder. “Kats? Wake up. I need to tell you something…”

Katsuki grumbled and his arm snaked around you, pulling you down to his level. “Shhh, m’head hurts.”

You giggled “Hey stop I’m being serious… I need you to get up.”

One of his eyes cracked open. “What’s up you sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sighed, “I haven’t been crying, but I am… stressed…” He sat up and moved so you were sitting facing each other. He nodded urging you to go on. “So… The reason Dabi uh… locked me in his office was so he could go to the store to uh… buy a…. pregnancy test.”

Your eyes stared at your hands and you heard him suck in a breath. “Are you? …Pregnant I mean.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know… we got some tests from the medical ward today and I’m about to take them. I’m just… a little scared.”

A medicine bottle whistled through the air and smacked Katsuki in the face. “We got you your medicine too. You’re welcome.” Shoto was smirking over by the coffee maker.

Katsuki groaned as he stood up. “One of these days I’m gonna kick the shit out of you, IcyHot Bastard.”

He stretched and held a hand out to you. “Alright, come on. Let’s go piss on a stick.”

You felt a weight starting to lift from your shoulders. “Wait. So you’re not mad?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “Why would I be mad? I knew what the two of you were doing. It’s not like you cheated on me. As much as I wish we were, we aren’t together.” His thumb came up to brush a tear away that you didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily Y/N. You being pregnant wouldn’t change how I feel about you. I would even be willing to tell people it’s mine if it makes it easier for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

It was quite for a few moments, while you absorbed and processed this new development. He was surprisingly calm about all of this, and it was making it easier for you as well.

“God you’re whipped.” Shoto handed the pregnancy test to you but was smart enough to remain behind you so Katsuki couldn’t hit him.

You left the boys to bicker as you entered your tiny bathroom alone. You peed on both of the sticks and set a timer on Katsuki’s phone. The next three minutes were the longest three minutes of your life.

You paced as you tried to think of anything else. But your thoughts kept going back to that night when Dabi held you in his recliner after fucking you. He had asked about you having a baby. He had sounded so hopeful. His eyes so bright at the idea of you having a kid with him. Part of you couldn’t believe that was an act. He had seemed so sincere. You thought about how he would react if he knew you were taking a test right now.

The timer went off.

Shit.

Was your whole life about to change?

With shaky hands you picked up the first test. You held your breath as you looked to the second one to confirm it.

You opened the door with tears in your eyes.

“So, what’s it say? Am I going to be an uncle?”

You let out an audible sob. “I don’t know why I’m so upset right now.” You showed them the tests. “They’re both negative.”

Katsuki wrapped you in a hug and ran his fingers up and down your back. “It’s okay to be sad. Shoto made some coffee, I don’t have plans today. We can hang out here until you feel better.”

You cried into Katsuki’s chest as you watched some cheesy movie. He didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even know what to say if he thought it would help.

You were grieving a child you never had, and a love that was nothing but lies. You needed to let it out. You needed to grieve so you could move on. And this is how you do that.

By the time the credits rolled your eyes were dry and you nose stuffy. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something earlier…?”

Katsuki stiffened, “Yeah, but I think it can wait. You’ve already had a rough day.”

You shook your head, “No… I want to know. I’m just going to worry about it until you tell me. I’d rather you just rip the Band-Aid off.”

He nodded, “We got word that Dabi may have been seen by your old place. We aren’t sure it was him though. Toga had been previously spotted as well, so it’s more likely that it was her. But either way, it looks like the LOV is sniffing around.”

“W—What makes you think it was Toga?”

He cleared his throat, “We have an informant working in the LOV and he told us the last thing he heard about Dabi was that Shigaraki had sent a team to collect him… but when they came back they were bloody and he wasn’t with them.”

You sighed, “Of course he wasn’t.”

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*The Laws* 1. No fucking shrugging 2. No drugs 3. No saying sorry for something that isn’t your fault 4.We work on communication every day 5. Wake up whenever the hell you want 6. No locked doors 7. We eat three full meals a day 8. No means no, no negotiations 9. We work on exercise every day 10. Ice cream must be kept in stock at all times 11. Accept help when it is offered 12. No lying 13. I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.

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Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe@unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry@dabislittlemouse@aimee1602@pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi @sarahschance @babayaga67@starenemy

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

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Midoriya Comfort HCs

Pairing: Midoriya (Deku) x reader

Warnings: Mentions/the concept/symptoms of depression, otherwise none

Request: Hi, sugar! i just wanted to tell you how much i adore your fics. everything about them is truly outstanding, from your choice of words to the ideas you come up with. might i add, your ability to write the characters so well and immerse someone in the story are amazing and i hope that you’re very proud of what you’ve brought to the fandom! you’re one of my favourite writers on here! would it be possible for you to write comfort hcs for izuku w/ a reader who’s a victim of depression, or even if you aren’t comfortable with that, just for bad days? i’ve been feeling a lot worse than usual and it’s all crumbled for me, so i’m just seeking comfort from my best boy. - anon neo

A/N: I’m sobbing??? I’m one of your favorites??! This is literally some of the nicest stuff anyone has ever said to me?? Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! I’m so glad people actually like this stuff I make!

And I’m always chill with doing anxious or depressed reader, since it’s something I (sadly) relate to myself and therefore feel pretty comfortable portraying it the best I can. I tried to get these out and done as fast as I could, but I hope you’re feeling better!

I promise you, you can get through this. I believe in you. If you ever need to chat, I'm always open (this goes for everyone). I really enjoyed writing these and loved your request. No worries, I got you!

Anyway, I hope you and everyone else likes them (as always)! Thanks again so much for your kind words, they really keep me going <3

Love you!

-Sugar

═══*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═══

Ever since you started dating, Izuku pays a lot of attention to you and how you’re feeling, whether he’s subtle about it or not

So when you start spiraling into a bad place, he’ll notice pretty quickly

He’ll immediately ask you what’s wrong, remembering and still regretting the choices he’d made when he knew something was up with Iida

He’s a little sad when you explain you have depression, but he won’t be swayed. Far from it. This boy is determined to be the best boyfriend he can be for you, no matter what!

He’ll do some research before making too many moves. The idea of the big sad isn’t completely foreign to him, but he wants to make sure he’s doing everything right

Izuku would go over all the little notes he’d taken on you, making a habit of jotting down anything you like

Once he’s made a bit of a plan for himself and gathered everything up, you can expect a Deku-bomb of everything you like and it’s all just for you!

You like food? He’ll buy you your favorites and treat you with them when he storms your room. Into more outdoorsy or sporty activities? He’ll gently ask you if you’re up for getting outside and doing them. He’ll even invite your friends! You like books? He’ll pick up that novel you’ve been eyeing since it came out. The list goes on. He’d do anything to bring a smile to your face

So anyway, as I said, he’d storm your room with everything he could find that he thought might help, ready to dedicate the entire afternoon and evening to you

He’d ask if there was anything you needed to talk about. He’s really good at listening if you decide there is something you need to rant about. He’s not too bad with advice either!

If you decide not to talk about it, or maybe there’s nothing to talk about and you just feel a little blah, he’ll take out whatever lil’ something he got you

At this point, he’d do whatever you want to do, whether it’s playing a video game or going out for a walk or watching your favorite movie

And whenever you want, Izuku is always down to cuddle (hehehe my favorite part!)

He’ll scour both his and your rooms to find every blanket he can, coming back to wrap you up into a little fuzzy burrito

He’ll pull you into bed and spoon you, but not before pressing kisses over every available surface of your face and the top of your head

He’ll hug you into him from behind, draping a leg over you and resting his head above yours. This is also a good time to do any kind of ranting or talking, and if you ever feel the need to cry, you’re more than able to!

If you cry tho, Izuku might cry too. He’s very in touch with his emotions and seeing you cry will never fail to make him tear up too. That’s just the kind of person he is

He’ll remind you of how much he loves you and murmurs words of support and encouragement in your ear. There is hope for the future, and things won’t always be like this. He’s not afraid to start listing everything he loves about you, and trust me when I say this, he could go on and on. He has notes. He thinks about this every day

Whenever you get too hot in your burrito blanket, you can always climb out. But now this means that all your kissable surfaces are exposed!

If all his efforts to make you smile before had failed, this is the last straw.

He’ll start a tickle war, pulling you back in to kiss you anywhere he can reach; your cheeks, your neck, your belly. There’s nothing suggestive behind it, he just wants you to know how loved you are by him

Once you’re done, he’ll let you nuzzle back into him for some much needed sleep. He’s spending the night with you, and there really isn’t much you can do about that

Even after your evening together is over, he won’t stop checking in on you to make sure you’re okay. He’ll do cuddle sessions, movie nights, walks in the park, anything, any time, as long as he knows he’s making a difference in making you feel better, even if it’s just a little

He’ll check in to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You best be sure you’re eating your meals and drinking plenty of water. He’ll even bring you some if you’re not up for leaving your room

Guilty of never getting enough sleep? He’ll poke his head in to see if you’re still awake, and if you are, he’ll gladly tug you into bed and hold you until you’ve slipped off to the feeling of his hands running through your hair

Get too much sleep? He’ll make sure to invite you to things he’s doing to get you out of the house, or even take you on dates with just the two of you to keep you active and occupied

I know that I’m guilty of not showering when I hit a slump, so he’ll make sure to remind you to do that (if ya need it. no shame). He’d even make sure you were changing out and washing your clothes and sheets, happy to help you if you’re not up for it

If you need help picking up your room or washing dishes and the like, he’s prepped to help you there too. Better make sure you’re changing your clothes too, now. AT LEAST HAVE DAY PAJAMAS AND NIGHT PAJAMAS I--

My depression tends to come in waves (or as I like to call them; Sad Bitch Hours™), so if that’s the case for you, he’ll help you until you feel better and a little more like yourself again

Izuku will never leave your side no matter what because that’s just how much he loves you. He has faith in you that you are strong enough to fight the issues and the hurt and the pain plaguing you, and by all means he will support you until the worst is over

A/N: Every time I write one of these, I feel like I’m doing one of those “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie--” books, except this one is more like “If (Y/N) Has Depression--”

Again, I truly hope that this can be some help for people who are struggling. I know that I am little more than an internet hermit, literally writing this in the darkness of my bedroom at 2 AM, but if I can bring even a touch of happiness, then my purpose will be fulfilled. I believe wholeheartedly that you can get through whatever may be going on in your life. In these past few years, I've been through a lot myself, but with a determined mindset and some professional help, I can say that I am doing so much better than I was.

Remember that you can't compare your progress to others. Healing takes time and patience and love, and simply remembering to be kind to yourself is the first step to steady recovery. I want you to know that I believe in you and that you matter. You matter so so so much. Every day, you change the world. There are people who love you (if you can't think of anyone, I'm here! Izuku loves you too, along with any other F/Os you may hold). I don't want to get too into this, but just remember that my inbox and DMs are always open. I'm not going to claim to be some sort of licensed therapist or mental health prodigy, but I'm a good listener and sometimes might offer decent advice. If you ever need a friend, I will be here to talk or rant to, and it would make me happy to see if someone reached out. You're not a burden, and your feelings are real and deserve to be confronted. No matter where you are in your journey, you're valid.

Sorry if this was a bit long, but I just wanted to say that you're important and people do care about you.

I wish you well and beautiful mornings,

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @pyrofanatic @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya imagine #deku imagine #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled #anon neo #sugar hcs

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Letting Go.”

Wrote this today, hope you like it, and hope you all have a great day :)

“We have to take him to a hospital.”

His hearing echoed, his ears rang, and his body felt cold and numb. He hurt all over.

“No! That's the last thing he needs right now.”

“Not to be rude but, are you stupid! The last tie i checked, I am the only one here with a Doctorate in actual doctoring.

The world swirled slowly to the left and then to the right.

“Last time I checked I’ve been in his shoes before. You have any idea what they are going to do, they are going to assume he jumped off that bridge on purpose. They are going to strap him down, which is going to make things worse, they are going to bring in psych, who are then going to determine that he should be locked down. That is the last thing this man needs right now, and believe me I have been in his shoes.” he faded out and then back in again.

“Than what do you suggest.”

“You’re a doctor aren’t you, so as long as we have you, he is going to be fine. Let's just get him back to my hotel, but I am telling you the last thing he needs is a noisy smelly hospital room.”

“And how are we going to get him back?”

He faded back in and back out again, “I can carry him.”

“He weights over two hundred pounds.” “Than I will take lots of breaks.”

He faded out again, this time for a long while, waking up only briefly an unknown time later. He was lying, uncomfortably over someone else’s shoulder and staring at the ground as it passed by below him. Little streaks of light dotted his vision from the pain, and he felt back unconscious before he could really understand what was going on.

***

Kier Lindsay stared down at the young man, watching as the strange little alien creature got to work. He had once heard that multitasking was pretty much impossible for humans as the brain was too interconnected to allow for it, but his creature didn’t seem to have any problems. All four of its arms seemed to work independently of each other as it stitched the unconscious man back into one piece. Looking him over the doctor had determined that he had managed to fracture his good leg and some of the bones in his right arm and side, but otherwise he was less injured than they had hoped.

Then again this was without considering the psychological duress he might be under at the moment.

He grimaced thinking about it.

He had been there before, he had been there and he had hurt a lot of people in the process.

He continued to watch as the alien stitched the other man up with great precision…

Man?

Honestly he wasn’t much more than a kid, his face was still smooth, unscared by time . Not a hint of white showed in his blond hair, and as he slept, the lines of his face were soft enough that Kier couldn’t shake the feeling that he WAS nothing more than a child.

A child who had had responsibility placed on him far to soon.

To be only in you late twenties and have command of an entire galactic armada.

That was too much to ask for anyone, much less someone like him. Kier couldn’t shake the thoughts as he stared down thinking about how despite technically being an adult for a long enough time, he doubted this man had ever been given a chance to grow up, at least not in the right ways. Turned to the academy at age fourteen, he had been doing adult jobs for longer than most people. He had been thrown into an environment where intelligence and performance mattered but social opportunities were sort of lacking, and then to be thrown right onto the enterprise and into war before trying to recover and immediately turning back to the one group of people that had failed him so badly…..

Adam vir was just a kid, an overly optimistic too trusting kid who had been taken advantage of by the system time and time again. He was like a golden retriever hurt by his master but still loyal enough to come crawling back.

It almost made him sick to watch, but he knew just by looking at him that he would never consider leaving.

Even if it were for his health.

Kier sighed and sat down by the bed staring at the boy with his chin cupped in one hand.

He had a son about Adam Vir’s age, a boy that was just beginning to pull his life together into some semblance of controlled. It had taken him a lot of mistakes and a lot of experience to figure out who he was, and he ached for the realisation that this man probably never got that.

He knew the feeling all too well.

He shook himself a little, dad mode was something you couldn’t really just turn off, at least not in his case. If there were people younger than him, he felt the automatic obligation to adopt them whether they wanted it or not.

Young people deserved guidance from someone who was older and the more people to do it the better. Lindsay hadn’t seen any of Adam’s family members at the trial, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he also got the impression that maybe the had avoided telling them on purpose, which was another red flag he was going to have to discuss with the boy woke up.

If he woke up.

***

He woke up some time later, though he couldn’t have guessed what time. The room was dark aside from the blue light of the TV. A little bit of natural light filtered in from the window, but rain clouds dotted blanketed the sky above. Rain pattered against the window in sheets obscuring the city landscape.

He groaned and tilted his head to the side.

A soft whimper, and something warm and wet ran over the back of his hand.

He tilted his head to the side.

The room was small, only big enough for a queen sized bed, a tv and a small desk. There was adoor to a small bathroom right next to a door that likely lead out into the hallway. The hotel room was small, but clean.

And it wasn’t his.

He turned his head a little further, gritting his teeth against the pain as his bleary eyes fell on the silhouette of a man sitting at the end of the bed. He was slightly hunched forward one hand resting on his knee as he flipped through the channels.

“Adam, can you hear me.’

He turned his head a little further to the right, to where Kril was standing beside him, a look of concern on his face.

The silhouette turned to face him, no more than a balck blob against the light. It was impossible to make out his face.

“Where am I? He croaked

The man stood and stepped forward, stepping out of the way of the TV and allowing some light to fall on the side of his face, “My hotel room, sorry about how cramped it is, but until yesterday I was kind of short on cash.”

Adam blinked, the cogs in his brain grinding to a slow start as he stared at the man’s face, which was familiar but he just couldn’t…

“Cigarette.”

It was the first word his brain could think of to describe the man when he finally recognised him, and in his goggy state it was the only thing he could think of, “Where do you even buy those these days.”

“Lets just say if I could quit my smoking habit than maybe I wouldn’t be so short of cash…. Anyway, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit…. What…. What happened.”

The other man sighed and pulled up the chair from the desk, sitting next to him, “You must have had a pretty bad PTSD attack. Looks like you jumped off an overpass and then rad headfirst into a brick wall.”

He grunted, “that explains a lot I guess….” he paused, “I thought…. I thought I was doing fine. I felt…. Fine and now…” A hand rested on his shoulder, “I know, I understand.”

Adam blinked, squinting at him slightly in the darkness, “Who are you/”

“The name is Kier but most of my friends call me Lindsay. I don’t know why, guess our days in the army just sort of rubbed off on us, now we only refer to people by their last names really.”

“What were you doing at the trial.”

The man smiled a little sadly, “Watching some assholes git their comeuppance, oh, and being awarded about five million dollars compensation.”

It took Adam even longer to digest that, “You….. you’re Steel eye-” The last two words came out as a squeak.”

Lindsay turned on the light by the bed, bathing them both in a warm yellow glow. Now that Adam could get a good look at him, he saw an older man probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was steel grey but well groomed, and he had the body of a man half his age. He wore only a tattered flannel rolled up to the sleeves and a white T-shirt. The back and sides of his arms were dotted with familiar circular scars all with a silver sort of sheen.

And, surprisingly, little silver dots….

Iron eye implants.

He turned his head to stare up at him, “You…. you are one of the five.”

“Yep, we never met during the war but I’ve been watching your career on the news for some time now. Some real impressive stuff kid.” he smiled, smiled and easy smile of someone who actually meant it.

Adam felt a sudden pang of guilt and shame.

For a moment he couldn’t figure out what it had stemmed from, until he realised. This man seemed fine, and here he was a complete wreck.

“How are you….. Ok after all that?” he wondered almost bitterly.

Lindsay shook his head, “Don’t start with that. I've jumped from one war to another my entire life. I have more experience than you.”

Adam went quiet, “So you were fine…. After steel eye.”

The man snorted, “No… no no, not even close.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

The man shrugged, “Lost both my legs in the war, one above the knee and one below. When I got home my family didn’t have enough money to get me good prosthetics, so I was pretty much wheelchair bound for a year or so.” he sighed, “I came back a shell of a man to a family who really needed a father. It was so bad for a time, everyday I thought about just…. Not being there anymore. I didn’t talk to my wife, I didn’t talk to my kids, and when I did speak I was angry all the time or apathetic.” His shoulders slumped, “For a time, I didn’t have much of a relationship with my middle daughter or my oldest son. I had drug withdrawals so bad I even wheeled myself halfway across town to try and find something…. Heroin maybe, anything that might take the edge off,” He snorted sadly, “I see it as a blessing now that no one would sell to me. I went over the edge drinking, and chain smoking and trying to bum pills off of any doctor I could find. Luckily with regulations on pills these days, I wasn’t given any.”

Adam felt his mouth go dry, “That bad.”

He nodded, “Woke up screaming most nights because of the dreams. For a while my kids moved out of the house because my wife was scared for thor safety.” He held up a hand, “Even during that time I would never have hit them intentionally, but my dreams were getting so bad that I would wake up flailing, and I would jump at the smallest sound. Anything could set me off.”

He sighed sadly, “But my wife bless her soul, is the strongest woman I know.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a photograph showing it to Adam with a look of pride so profound it made even Adam’s heart ache.

What he saw was a nice family. Two younger kids, a teenage boy, and a woman.

She had short black hair spiked up and dark lipstick on, and the look on her face was indicative of someone full of mischievous humor.

“My angel. She stayed by me even though she should have left. I tried to get her to leave, even made my behavior worse at one point to drive her off. She SHOULD have left me, but she didn’t. I had the mot amazing support system. She held me from falling any further into it, and my little girl, my little girl Bethany, that little girl pulled me out by my hair and dragged me back to reality. She was too young to realise how horrible I was being, and she just thought I was sick. No matter how much my wife tried to keep hr away from me, she always came to see me somehow, with ‘medicine’.”

He smiled, “Generally it was just a tube of baby M&Ms. I refused at first, but she insisted, and the one day I decided to take them just to quiet her down, she told me that I would be all better.”

He waited with pent up breath.

“That night, I slept without nightmares…. The placebo effect is a hell of a thing if a child can convince a grown ass man that M&Ms ar medicine. I woke up and my head had never been so clear in my entire life. I saw what I was doing to them, and to my little girl and to my other kids…. I have never cried that hard in my entire life, but it was just what I needed. Some emotion to break the cycle of anger and apathy. It wasn’t an easy road from there, but I finally got smart and started listening to my wife. Somehow managed to get my kids to forgive me, and from there we worked as a team to get me back on my feet.” he patted the cigarette in his pocket, “This is what remains from those days…. Can’t seem to quit, but working on it.”

Adam was quiet for some time,

“It was that hard on your family.”

“It was. I am glad they stayed but at the same time I wish they hadn’t been so hurt by me.

He sighed and leaned his head back, “I don’t think that is possible for me.”

A hand turned to rest down on his shoulder, “I know it sounds hard right now but…. I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

He sighed, “Shoot, it's not like I have any other bright ideas.”

“What are you?”

“What do you mean.”

“I mean when all the trappings are stripped away from you, your job and your title…. What makes you…. You.”

He paused for a moment, opened his mouth and then closed it, “I…. Im a….I….” The other man waited, his eyes sad.

The only things Adam could think of were related to his job.

When he was silent for some minutes, the man patted his arm, “All these years of service and you've never taken time to construct a framework for yourself that can survive outside of your job. If you keep defining yourself by what you do and how well you preform than you aren’t going to last. You constantly do everything for everyone else, but why not think about doing something for yourself for once, be completely selfish. Don’t go on vacation because, I bet this will calm me down and make me a better leader when I return, go on vacation because you bloody well want to job be damned.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but the man silenced him.

“Even if you love your job, you need breaks from it. You need to set the line to where your job ends and you begin, otherwise you won’t have a personality left when you are done. Take some time to fix YOU before lending yourself to everyone else.”

He rested his head back, “That sounds….. Difficult.”

The man patted him on the arm, “You’ve proven you can do hard things, now is just the time to do another hard thing.”

Adam nodded but inside his head he was beginning to feel a little hopeless. He knew that Lindsay was right. He knew that he was messed up, and everything he had done up to this point was just going to be a bandage.

And until he was fixed.

He was going to have to give up a few things.

He hated the idea of hurting people like Lindsay had described, so…. So that meant doing something that he wasn’t going to like.

“Do you…. Do you mind if I…. speak with you…. On occasion.”

The man smiled, “I already put my number in your phone if you need me. I work law enforcement now so I might be busy, but if you need my help Ill do my best.”

***

He didn’t want the court’s blood money. He would have tossed it away if he could, but he knew that was just his confused mind talking. Money was money, so he mostly gave it away. Gave it away to his parents for their retirement, and to his brothers and sisters for their kids college funds. He gave some to his brother to get him a better house in a new area, but he kept some for himself. It would have been irresponsible not to buy himself a house, to get himself a place away from his job and the ship.

He didn’t know where to buy it at first thinking that earth was too mundane but anything further out was too far removed. So, he bought a little private property on the moon. It cost a shit ton of money but, he had that in spades now. He only told his family about it.

They weren’t exactly happy with them when he finally told them where he had been. They had wanted to be there to support him, but he couldn’t find t in himself to feel bad that they hadn’t see the pictures and the videos he had been forced to see. He apologized and promised he would do better in the future.

He felt disconnected from himself.

Out of touch.

The crew of the Omen was just as angry with him, perhaps even more so than his family.. The intervening days that led him back to his ship feeling detached was like…. Some sort of horrible dream. He felt like he was slipping backward down a slippery slope and watching the light fade away from him.

He was scrambling on the rocks but couldn’t find purchase.

Perhaps it was the idea of what he had to do next that hurt him so much. Hurt him so much that he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he had to. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. It was the only way he was going to be able to feel ok about himself, about fixing himself.

Maybe things would change when he finally came back.

Maybe when he recovered, he could change what he was about to do.

And maybe he was about to ruin it forever.

He walked down the hallway of the engineering corridor despondent, like he was watching himself in third person.

He reached out a hand that didn’t feel like his and knocked on the wall of the ship.

A familiar face turned to look at him from her workspace in the dark. Sunny stood and paused to look at him, “Adam, are you alright.”

“Sunny…. We…. need to talk.”

She paused eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Are you ok.” she repeated.

He walked in taking a seat on her work bench and staring down at his hands.

“Is this about, the trial….. I mean yes I am a little mad that you didn’t tell me. Is it because I’m a Drev, is it because it would have looked bad. I know I don’t understand human politics, but maybe….”

He held up a hand, and she grew quiet.

He sat for a long moment fighting himself on the inside,and then forcing himself to look up at her. He could feel hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes though, for some reason he couldn’t get them to fall.

She deserved that he at least LOOK at her.

He felt sick.

He just wanted to throw up.

This…. This was the hardest thing he had ever done.

“Sunny…. I… while I was away, at the trial.”

She stared at him slow horror and confusion passing across her face.

“Well, I learned some things about myself. Number one being that, I….. I never recovered from what happened to me. From Steel eye and the war. Ive been bandaging it up for the past few years assuming that I can fix it, but at this point…. I wonder if I ever will.” He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her, “I’m broken, and until I can fix myself…. I think its best if-”

“No, no no no that's not how this works.”

He continued speaking, “I think it's best if we take a break.”

“NO!”

“Sunny I love you but I. I am not Capable of being what you need or deserve.” he stood reaching a hand forward, “I can’t subject you to myself like that.”

She jerked away from his hand, “that should be MY decision it would be OUR decision.”

“Sunny please…. I am so sorry.”

“On my planet, battle pairs fight WITH each other no matter how hard the battle is.”

His voice shook timorous and fading fast, “And on my planet, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.”

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soysaucevictim · 3 years

Text

“aching, shaking, breaking (like humans do)”

Summary: Remus thinks Hypnos has abandoned him for good (metaphorically speaking), Patton is there to help. (Sanders Sides, Gym Rat AU. One-shot. Ao3 link.)

Genres: Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic

Characters: Patton and Remus centric. Logan, Virgil, and Roman mentioned.

Relationships: Intruality (platonic), Logicality (platonic), Background Intrulogical (platonic/ambiguous), Background Dukexiety (romantic/QPP), Background Moxiety (paternal/platonic)

Warnings: Remus angst, extreme insomnia, (unintentional) self-injury, medications, mental health issues, grim imagery, Remus Has Intrusive Thoughts, Remus Is A Mess, Patton Is A Good Friend, Interfaith Friendships, Implied (Extended) Family Problems

Patton was pedaling on one of the exercise bikes, which was one of his favorite activities to do at the gym. Relatively low impact and he usually took a “something is better than nothing” approach to his routines nowadays. Just appreciating the people watching and socializing with his workout famILY.

That was odd.

Remus hadn’t been to the gym for the whole week. Even when the kiddo overdid it – usually he’s not out of commission this long for it. Unless-

Something hit him in the gut when he realized that. He stopped on his bike and immediately buzzed his number.

Ring.

Nothing.

He could shoot him a text, but it was just not settling right with him. Logan had been doing one of his HIIT circuits on the bike next to him. He took a deep breath, gently tapping Logan’s shoulder. Despite Logan’s concentration, he desisted immediately, turning off his music to respond, “What is it?”

“Have you seen a certain Pottymouth at your work recently?”

Logan paused, with a look of concerned realization, “Come to think of it, no. No, I haven’t. Well, he was getting particularly erratic and called in sick… 3 days ago.”

“I think I should go check in on him. My Other Son’s been swamped with work lately, sooo…”

If Logan was perfectly honest, it was often confusing when Patton referred to half their crew as his son, “Other son? Did you mean Virgil?”

Patton nodded.

“Probably prudent. Unfortunately, no one can stand in for me at the firm tonight. And. You’re better at the… emotions stuff.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence! Hopefully I’m just worried for nothing.”

Patton rose up from his bike and was about to leave with his things. Logan smiled faintly, “Hey, if you would, could you tell me how he’s doing when you find out?”

Patton smiled back, a little forced if he was honest, “I’ll make sure to have him tell you that himself!”

It wasn’t a very far trip across the city to get to Remus’s apartment complex from the gym.

Once Patton parked his car and took another deep breath, he stepped out toward it.

After getting buzzed in and jogging up a couple flights of stairs, thanking his stars for basic training, he was at the door in a jiffy.

Patton wasn’t in the business, but he was reminded of the time Remus was raising heck to get Unit 404 from this building. He remembered seeing Logan trying desperately not to laugh when he heard about it.

He knew to knock to the phrase “Shave and a Haircut”, to alert Remus. He drummed out a few calls, waiting for Remus to make a sound on the other side, hoping he would.

It was a thing in their group, ever since they all watched “Roger Rabbit” together for a movie night, years ago.

Once. Twice. Thrice…

Patton heard the sound of chaotic crashing noises and an off-script, but still in the right cadence, “Fuck OFF!”

“Remus!? Kiddo, it’s me. I wanted to check on you!”

He heard some stumbling noises and a hoarse, “P-padre?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a dramatically loud sigh before the door was unlatched, unlocked, and open.

“Thanks- oh.”

Patton wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but Remus looked even more harried than he usually was. The darkness around his eyes even more pronounced, his face was so drained. His makeup smudged, tear-streaked, and hanging on for dear life. His gaze wild and jumpy. Remus didn’t do much more than stand in the living room, staring at Patton once he entered.

Patton saw that Remus had knocked over one of his glass cabinets. He noticed Remus looked pretty scratched up and was bleeding in places, mostly his hands and knuckles.

Patton furrowed his brow, asking mostly to avoid presumptions, “How are you feeling?”

Remus sounded breathless too, “What does it fucking… look like!?”

Patton paused and looked around some more, there was a lot of trash strewn about the floor. Granted there usually was, Remus would just call it “organized chaos”. But Patton did note that there was an alarming number of energy drink cans piled around a hopelessly full trash bin. Monsters, NOS, Red Bulls, 5 Hours, yerba mate, the works.

Patton slumped a little bit in worry, “Not exactly peachy keen, I take it?”

Patton had a hunch that Remus was screaming not that long ago, based on just how raw his voice sounded, “No SHIT!”

“Um, would you like to sit down for a bit? It might help to talk it out.”

“Can’t.”

“Too restless, huh?”

“Yeah.”

At that point Remus was mindlessly digging his fingernails into his arm. Patton winced a little and decided to ask, “Can I take care of those injuries, at least? I just want to make sure they don’t get-”

Remus glanced at but barely registered the wounds, “Infected?”

“Yeah.”

“F-first aid kit’s in the bathroom. Not like it matters. It would be just my luck to have a brown recluse bite or resistant staph or necrotizing fasciitis. You know where shit rots and liquefies and you get all septic?! Imagine the SMELL.”

Patton slowly worked his way to the bathroom to get the kit, not taking his eyes away from Remus, “Well, if it looks like it’ll be that way, I WILL be taking your butt to the ER.”

Remus didn’t seem to register that, droning on, “Oh. What if I lose a finger? Or several! Or my entire hands! Everybody says I might die of a heart attack before I hit 30? My ticker feels like it’s going to EXPLODE, Teddy Roosevelt. Imagine a live grenade strapped to it – BOOM. Sounds like fun.”

Patton flinched, thinking that was to get a rise out of him, “Kiddo, I think that’s the opposite of fun.”

Remus weakly laughed, pointing at his chest thoughtlessly, “Better than worrying about cancer or some shit!”

Eventually Patton had to break line of sight to grab the kit, but he kept talking, “When… when did you last get some sleep?”

There was a pause that made Patton’s own heart ache a little bit. Remus muttered after some hemming and hawing, “Uh… 3? 4? 4 days ago? I think. I don’t even fucking know.”

Patton took a moment to look over the medicine cabinet while he was there. Just to see if Remus had anything that could help him get much needed snooze time. There was a bottle of trazodone, mostly full, Benedryl, also mostly full… no suspiciously empty bottles of anything around. So that was a hopeful sign.

“Would you mind if I asked you to take something to help you sleep? After I patch you up?”

“You remember that story where a whole batch of Tylenol was tampered with and killed like seven whole people?”

“… I’ll ask again a little later, then.”

Patton returned to the living room, kit in hand, both relieved and disconcerted about Remus just standing in the same spot he was in. His hands were clenching and unclenching, like he was fighting to stay awake even longer. “Okay, it would be easier on both of us if you sat down while I dress those wounds.”

Remus didn’t move, so Patton tried to gently nudge this poor kid toward the sofa anyways. Thankfully, he didn’t resist at all. Patton noticed just how wobbly a gait he had in that short distance. Once seated, Patton also saw that both his knees were scuffed. Patton winced, imagining that he took at least a few falls very recently.

Without prompting, Remus whined, “Everything hurts, Padre.”

“Well, going without sleep as long as you have can give you a bad case of the body aches. Seen some of my old combat buddies deal with that on our worst deployments…”

Patton started to wipe down Remus’s knuckles first with some cotton balls and alcohol. He just wanted to get a better sense of how deep these cuts were. He was relieved that they were surprisingly shallow, “I think these will only need some simple bandages and antibiotic cream… but I’m definitely going to check on you later, to see how your hands are doing.”

Remus nodded, and started to blather a bit again, “I feel like Hypnos himself has forsaken me. A curse! A bane! Pat? Is his brother going to come for me? Am I going to ride down Styx and meet the big H himself?”

“… you’re not going to die, if I can help it. I swear to God Himself.”

“Gross.”

Patton sometimes forgot that their positions of faith were so far removed. But that didn’t dissuade him from caring a lot. He hated seeing his friend suffering so much. He took another breath, and addressed the gouges and cuts in Remus’s arms. They were rough, probably unintentionally from his own hands. He approached those similarly. “You feeling any sleepier, yet?”

“Mmm… no.”

Remus looked like he was about to pass out, Patton was reasonably sure just the fact he was seated and getting some TLC helped push him closer to shutting his eyes. “Well. I’m going to hang around for a few, just to make sure you’re alright, okay? Mind if I turn on the TV?”

Remus started to slur his speech considerably, “Knock yourself out, Holy Ghost.”

Patton thinly smiled about the blasphemous sentiment, but he shook that off, it didn’t matter really. He was just glad to see Remus doze off like he desperately needed it.

Patton decided to tune into Nickelodeon and watch some cartoon reruns, eventually hearing some loud snoring coming from Remus. Patton sighed and smiled at the sight.

“Oh GEEZ, Patton. Were you – were you here all night?”

Patton blinked awake from the shouting and looked outside to see it was bright out, “I-I guess I was?”

Virgil was there to see his boyfriend sleeping like the dead and Patton next to him.

“Logan told me to check on Remus and I just got back here. And-”

“Remus is going to be okay, I think. Do you have any idea what may’ve started this episode?”

Virgil sat down on the recliner nearby and looked tired but contemplative.

“His “family” tried contacting him. All I know was it devolving into a messy fight and it rattled him. He… stubbornly didn’t want to talk about it.”

Patton understood what he meant at this point.

The only blood relative Remus had anything nice to say about was Roman. Someone who should probably know what happened, if he wasn’t already aware.

All to address later, once Remus recovered a little more.

Patton ran his fingers through Remus’s greasy hair. Not the most pleasant, but he hoped it helped to soothe him as he continued to slumber.

Virgil smiled at both of them, his own concern never quite gone, “Thanks for this, Pop Star.”

#spilled musing #sanders sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #(yes - give both the twins a drabble in crisis)#(patton's here mincing his oaths whilst remus is swearing like a sailor... pffft )#(patton used to be a combat medic in this AU - so like. he's seen some shit but is still v caring)#gymrat au

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storysofmyown · 4 years

Text

Obey me! The passing of time

Plot: One by one, the brothers start to notice how Mc changes as time goes by.

Warning: None that I can think of

Word Count:2480 words

*********************************

It started slow, very slow. You never noticed, of course you didn't. For you, this was something entirely normal but for the demons, it wasn't. After all, they could live for millenniums without suffering much but a cold but... for a human well... that's another story.

So no, you didn't notice as you grew older and started to look older, but the brothers certainly did.

The first one to notice was Asmodeus. The two of you were in one of those intense cuddling sessions; while he stroked your hair, he suddenly noticed a white hair. It made him froze in an instant.

Aging

It was such a slow process for them, for demons, angels and alike. But for humans, humans didn't even have a fraction of a demons life span. They all knew it. Humans were so fragile that even sleeping in a wrong position could hurt them. Yet, here you were. A human, surrounded by demons and still being able to hold your self with such confidence, sometimes even he forgot you were not one of them. Nevertheless, here you were mortal. Because you were human after all.

Asmodeus stared at your sleeping face, so peaceful... It made his heart ache, how has he gotten so close to you? To appreciate you as much as he does? To cherish you, to adore you...to love you? That night, he vowed to make the best of the time you two spend together. Occasionally, you noticed his sad face while painting your nails... but you never mentioned it.

The next one to notice was Belphegor; you usually napped together after classes every day, to get your energy up. However, he started to notice unusual sleeping patterns, the way you slept less at night and more during the day. At first, he thought it was probably Leviathan keeping you awake while gaming at night or watching some anime, but when Levi made a comment about you not connecting in a few days it sunk in.

He had researched human aging once, not because he cared or any deeper reason. He was just curious. He read that getting older, for some people, implied changes in their sleep routine. After that, he started noticing how tired you were often, the black circles underneath your eyes.

Ever since that day, he found himself thinking of Lilith, death, and mortality. Why? There wasn't any real reason, but just something in his heart that made him remember of how long ago his time at the Celestial Realm was every time he looked at you.

Ever since that, Belphie makes sure you go to bed at a reasonable hour, and even uses just a little of his demon powers to make sure you get enough sleep, and if sometimes he stayed awake just to look at you sleep... well that was for him to know and for you to never find out.

Next, was Lucifer. You both had fallen into a kind of routine; you would help him organize papers and such, nothing too important, just to help him around with minor stuff. Today was one of those days. He was looking at some papers and he gave you the ones that weren’t so important to either categorize or to dispose of. He lifted his gaze from the papers for just one second and noticed that something was off. The scene before him… it wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the fact that you had been looking at the same paper for 4 minutes trying to figure out where it belongs, or how your figure seemed... smaller for some reason.

As he stared at you, he suddenly remembered something. The Exchange Program you had participated in ended a while ago, but you had chosen to stay with them. He tied the knots by figuring that, yes, some time had passed since then and it was normal you didn't look the same. So, he kept reading a paper but then realization hit him…. the exchange program ended more than 15 years ago.

It cut him like a knife. It felt like yesterday you had just gotten into the Devildom and now... it had been more than 15 years. For him, it felt like nothing, but for you, a mere human, it must feel like a lifetime ago. Lucifer put the paper down, and suggested you two went out for dinner that night.

You found it odd, but not unwelcomed, and if this started to become a habit between the two... well you sure were not going to question it.

Then, it was Satan the one who noticed. You were reading with him, when he saw you struggling to read some words. You kept shuffling the book closer and then further from you, making weird faces and sighing in frustration. He put it down as you not being particularly interested in that book. So he suggested that the two of you took a break and watched the new episode of a detective show they were airing.

However, it kept happening every time you read together. So, one day Satan surprised you with a trip to the human world… but for medical reasons, he took you to an oculist. While waiting for you, he was reading a book, and he saw an old person walk by him. He then looked at the book and the first word his eyes saw hurt him.

Death

He read around thousands of books explaining humans. From the way their minds worked on a psychological and biological way, to the way a human’s body rotted after dead. Quite fascinating, but the thought of that happening to you... made him land from his fantasyland. Once you came out you, to no one's surprise, announced that you needed reading glasses, he only smiled and told you to pick whatever style you preferred. As you looked around and asked for his opinion on the glasses, Satan noticed another thing.

Even if you were getting older, your spirit was still the same. And that made him smile genuinely. Afterwards, he seemed to be more and more interested in your health and stuff like that, you really didn't question it, your memory was already bad, so it was not bad to have someone remind you to take your vitamins.

Beelzelbub has been sneaking into the kitchen every night of his long life. But specifically, tonight he sneaked into the kitchen and found you, bent over the counter with just a glass of water. He smiled and asked if you were also hungry, but you shook your head, explaining that the dinner you had eaten earlier made your stomach ache and you just wanted some water.

Beelzelbub stared in confusion, after all it was not often food made him feel ill. But lately, this has been something that happened to you a lot. He figured his midnight snack could wait and gave you a hug, hoping it will make you feel better. You smiled and hugged him back, resting against him.

You felt... tired and it wasn't because it was almost midnight or because you had a tummy ache... no, it was a different type of tiredness. After a while, you smiled at Beel and went back to your room. Beel staid in the kitchen, not eating but thinking. He was worried about you; Lucifer mentioned the other day a little off of hand that you seemed weaker.

Beel didn't pay much attention to it, until now. His mind went from Lilith to you, how that affected him, and suddenly, the answer was clear. Beel slumped in himself and tried hard not to wake anyone up on the way to his room. Ever since that day, he asked you to work out with him, even for just a little bit, and the intense cuddling sessions were now even more intense.

The truth was he was scared of losing you too. Only Belphie knew that, and he planned to keep it like that. And if the nightmares ever shifted from Lilith to you well... at least he had you to hold his hand... for now.

It was 3 am... and if Belphegor knew you were awake at this unholy hour he might kill Leviathan and never let you sleep alone in your room again. But here you were, Levi had told you he would be binging one of his favorite animes all night, and you just had to watch it with him. So there you were, 3 am and both, you and Levi, watching anime.

Levi was all excited about the story, the characters, and the plot but you... not so much. So, you ended up falling asleep. Once Levi noticed, he muttered something about how your normie blood had taken the better of you, before falling silent as he kept watching the anime. There, right in the middle of the screen, the protagonist best friend had been killed. Blood was everywhere and the episode ended. Levi's eyes fell on you.

You were Levi's only friend, and the thought of losing a friend made him break a bit. He’s been noticing how you have changed in the passing of time, but he never actually stopped to think of the implications of that. Humans die, very, very easily. He wasn't certain on how much longer you would be around to spend time with him, do cosplays, and talk about anime or manga. He was going to be as lonely as the Lord of the Shadows was before Henry became their friend.

Leave his room? He never did such thing. At least not for a few days after that realization hit him... but then he realized that he was wasting SO MUCH TIME. So, after that, wherever you were, Levi was. He started to talk more about your own interests and stuff. It was nice, he learned new stuff about you, and while the thought of losing you always lingered in the back of his head, he wanted to be close to you no matter what.

Now Levi spent less than 4 hours in his room during the day, it was a miracle really... that was something absolutely no one has ever done before. And honestly, you were not going to question it.

Finally, Mammon, THE Great Mammon noticed. You two were walking in town after one of his photoshoots. He was going on and on about how amazing he was while you trailed behind him... really behind him. Once he noticed, he slowed his pace to match yours. You started talking about something else entirely when suddenly your D.D.D rang. While you answered he checked the hour, and upon looking at his background, he felt a part of himself die.

As his background, he had set a picture of you and him. Not taken too long ago, just a few years... or so he thought. You looked so different. Your hair was now entirely white, matching his; he noticed the wrinkles around your face and the glasses that you now had to use all the time. Mammon fell silent. You informed him that Lucifer had called and wanted you two home now. He just nodded and didn’t say a word for the rest of the walk. You found it weird because... well, because it's Mammon, but you didn't mention it.

That night, Mammon didn't go to your room. He stayed in his, thinking about everything. Thinking how he didn’t notice that you were growing old. He was always with you, ALWAYS. It was impossible for HIM to not notice. Yet here he was, wondering how time slipped between his fingers, and now who knows how much time you would spend together. Mammon cried... all night, no one knew because he made sure it was a silent cry... but the idea of losing someone he cared about so much. IT hurt when Lucifer confiscated Goldie, and he knew losing you would feel the same... who was he kidding? It was going to be worse, so much worse. And so, he cried, but only for that night, the next day he was his usual self just... now he was aware. Suddenly he was being super kind to you and buying you stuff.

It weirded you out but it was fine, you let him have it... you knew what it was about. You started at him with a smile on your lips, ruffled his hair and made snarky comment about him already being broke and to stop spending in you.

If Mammon never left your side before just imagine now. And he was not the only one. You were constantly followed around by a group of demons that wanted to spend time with you. You knew why, but you never mention it... why would you?

Mammon and the others had never talked about it, they refused to do so but whenever you didn't look, they looked at each other, and with sad expression, they made sure to take in the moment, to save it in their hearts.

It was night. You and the seven brothers have been having a horror night but you were tired already. Your entire body ached. And halfway through the movie you fell asleep.

You woke up by a hand shaking you, once you opened your eyes you saw Lucifer. You smiled at him, sat up, and, to everyone surprise, hugged him. Blame it on your half-asleep state, but you dared to hug him, and even give him a kiss on the cheek. Then proceed to hug and kiss every other brother.

No one knew what had gotten into you, but once you kissed Belphegor and were about to say good night, Beel and Asmo pulled you into another hug, and before you realized, you were in a cuddle mountain with ALL the brothers. Lucifer may have taken a little convincing but at the end, he joined you all. After an intense two hours of cuddling, you went to your room. As you laid down in the bed with a smile plastered on your lips, you felt... at peace. With how your life had been up to this point, with how much you loved those seven idiots. Yeah, you really loved them.

During breakfast the next day, none of the brother ate. Not even Beelzeebub, they all waited patiently for you, they wanted to wait for you, even though... all of them knew you were not going to come down the stairs.

That's how it was, humans are born and humans die in less time than any other creature. It was the sad reality of their world, and as the brothers waited for a human that was never going to come down the stairs, all they could think about was you. It was sad, but it was true. And even if they were never going to see you, again... they really were grateful for everything.

*********************************

Hello sweeties, this is actually the first fan fic I've ever made. I could not get this idea out of my head so I just had to write it. Hope y'all enjoy it!

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me!#obey me #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! lucifer #obey me belphie #obey me beelzebub #obey me lilith #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me satan

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elucere · 3 years

Text

Sad Late August Quarantine Thoughts 2.0

Last year, I wrote this. Basically my thoughts on how I felt in my life up to that point and what quarantine had illuminated. It felt cathartic then, so hopefully it’ll feel cathartic now. A part of that probably had to do with the fact that the last part was complete bullshit, but we’ll get into that later.

At nearly the slightest inconvenience now, I’ll say “I’m at my limit”. Technically, that isn’t really true because if I was really at my limit, at the next inconvenience I would completely lose it. But no, I’m just simply reminding myself that while I’m constantly met with a series of unfortunate events, I haven’t broken down yet. I might feel like I’m there, but I’m not. I’m just at my limit. Things are bad, but they aren’t the worst they could be yet. So keep in mind, I am very much at my limit as I’m writing this.

Last year I talked about my struggles with my job. Yeah, I got fired in February. It was not pretty either. I knew I wasn’t doing well performance wise, and they invited me into a zoom call that they said was a project meeting a week before my year anniversary and fired me. My supervisor (or I guess, ex-supervisor) cried on call. I didn’t cry until afterwards. It was an entire year of me trying to get better, him promising that it’ll come with time, and then getting sacked because “we didn’t see improvements”. Really, really fucking sucked. And it messed with me for a long time because I kept replaying those last few weeks, trying to decipher what I could’ve done differently to prove my worth and keep my position. There was a lot. I felt really guilty.

I think the worst part is that I got a performance warning in December and realized at that point I’d become so apathetic about my job that I needed professional help. I’d been trying to go to therapy for a long time, but it never panned out. My mom forbade it when I was in high school, it was practically impossible to get an appointment at my college’s mental health facility unless you were considered a threat to yourself and others (which I most certainly did not want on my record), and after school life happened so fast with the pandemic and the fact that I live in a 2 bedroom apartment with my mom and my brother with very little privacy. Even now that I’ve convinced my mom that therapy is okay, actually, she still highly disproves and sees it as some sort of psychological failing on my part. Which is. Sure. Whatever. Why not.The reason I did not enroll in therapy that December is actually because my dad lost his job and with it, his health insurance, and with that, my health insurance. That means I had to enroll in a health plan through my employment, which became an unanticipatedly long process. I actually got my new-but-useless health insurance card in the mail a few days after I got fired. They actually fired me on the last day of the month, so my benefits wouldn’t extend beyond that month. That’s a bit of fun irony.

To quite a few of my friends, this story solidified the idea that insurance=therapy. As soon as I got insurance again, I’d be able to finally get some help. This was a couple of people’s first response to me when I got hired again (yay, I know I don’t have to worry about that anymore but I’m also afraid that I’ll just inevitably be fired again so I don’t let myself have the victory). I know my friends only want the best for me, and I can’t expect them be able to emotionally support me like a professional, but I’m afraid that they think that therapy will be some sort of magical fix of sorts. I don’t mean in the sense of just getting better mentally, but I think being a tolerable person. I know that sounds like I’m just being self-depreciating, but let me explain.

A few years ago I was at dinner with one of my friends. I don’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but she goes “name three things you actually like” because I was probably being negative or something. I said a few things and whatever, but that comment stuck with me for a long time. I thought it was especially poignant or something. Am I so unhappy all the time because I fixate on things I don’t like? It could be connected to the attitude of social media to be outwardly negative. Casual wisdom, you know.

Well, that was the fact until I was out with that same friend and we visited Barnes and Noble. I’ve been doing quite a bit of reading this year and got more involved in the book community, so I have many Opinions. Some are good, some are bad, some are just me being annoying. After an hour of browsing the shelves, we drive home. I start talking about a series I really like in the car and she goes “It’s nice to hear you talk about a book you actually like.” Which kind of stunned me because I had just did a lot of talking about books I liked. How happy I was that kids were still reading Rangers Apprentice, going out of my way to see how many Brandon Sanderson books I could find in the Adult Fantasy section, and more reminiscing in the Young Adult section about books I liked recently or as a teen. The truth is, I talk about stuff I like all the time to people who will listen. Ask me about my favorite books! My favorite movies! My favorite musicals! I promise I will not shut up. It’s one of the few things I have that lift my spirits when I talk about it, I just don’t get the opportunity to much because it’s hard to find people who want to listen.

The thing is, I’m naturally a critical person, I think. I love tearing things apart, in good and bad ways. I also love gossip. I’m an okay gossip, but I know at this point that I’m a good critic. I’m really good at identifying faults and commenting them on an insightful or constructive way. I edit a lot of my friends’ writings for this reason. I don’t find that to be anything negative, it’s just something that’s interesting to me. Basically what I’m saying is, what if it’s not mental illness and I’m just annoying and I’ll not be able to meet the expectations of other people’s idea of progress for me and I’ll be a disappointment. I’m kind of tearing up while typing that out while listening bopping to Disturbia by Rihanna but this is the third time I’ve been on the verge of crying today so yaknow maybe it is just mental illness.At this point, I can either talk about criticism in relation to the particular way I dish it, or I could talk about how I want to receive it. I think the former will take less time to elaborate, so I’ll start with that.

I mention last year how I got an unpaid gig as a critic for DiscussingFilm. Embarrassing at times, I joke with my friends that “DiscussingFilm Writer” is a slur, but it’s cool at times as well. I got a press pass to go to Sundance and gorged on an entire family sized bag of peanut M&Ms while I watched like 14 movies in one weekend. I’m trying to say positive things about this until I start ragging to prove that I’m not an overwhelmingly negative person, but I don’t think that’s working well. Whatever. The point is, if I didn’t like it I would quit, but if I did quit it wouldn’t be because I didn’t like it. It would because there was an…event. I had quite a falling out with one of the higher-ups that run the site and in response my work has taken a hit. I won’t go into too much detail, but I don’t get assigned anticipated releases anymore. My work is often delayed going out and, in turn, I feel less motivated to turn in my work on time. And then on top of that, it’s rarely promoted. I have examples on top of examples, but this stupid thing is getting long enough. To summarize the DiscussingFilm situation, I feel like shit. I have one of the lowest view counts on the site. I’m told that my work is good and it’s valued, but not enough to get reposted, I guess! Why bother. And also because the person I do not work well with is quite up in the food chain, I’ll never see a promotion. I wanted to become an editor so bad (I do editing on the side for my friends and enjoy it), but now it will never ever happen. I don’t have the opportunity to prove myself, it’s just completely off the table by nature of leadership. Ass. Complete ass. I’m doing quite a bit of work for DiscussingFilm including creating the standard for the Instagram, making graphics for the Instagram, performing interviews and writing reviews for the site, and co-hosting a DiscussingFilm branded podcast, and I will never see neither a dime for my work or recognition in any meaningful or significant way. I don’t have a say in anything, and I feel like an insignificant cog whose opinion does not mean much.

I still get insecure with my reviews, but not as much anyways. Sure, I can’t compare to the great writers at trades who do this for a living and have been doing so for years. But, I am better than a lot of writers at my level. Sometimes I try pitching to other publications, but so far I’ve only been met with rejection. It kinda stings to know that my work is not worth enough to be paid for, but I’m kinda over it. I still pitch. I try my best. That’s the thing about me, I just keep going. Rejection hurts like a bitch, but whatever. I don’t want to quit just yet, so I guess I won’t. There isn’t anyone in my corner who’s actively spurring me to keep going, I’ve just decided that I’ll get paid for my work one day and so now I will.This connects with the criticism I want to receive which unfortunately very much is not of the nonfiction variety. Ew I fucking hate talking about this but I need to get it off my chest.

After I got fired, I was slipping into quite a bit of a depression. I started a podcast at this time with my friend to try and prevent that, but I knew that I probably needed another project. I wasn’t watching movies anymore, DiscussingFilm was not publishing my shit, and all I was doing all day was reading (which I don’t anymore, I’m in a slump and it’s definitely connected to the idea I have in the next sentence). So I had the brilliant idea of “hey, I could do that. I could write a book. I should do it to do it.”You see, this has not been my only attempt at writing a proper book. I tried when I was 13, I tried when I was 15 and into online literate roleplay, I tried when I was 18 by doing NaNoWriMo in college (also, I was actually more depressed then). I also tried to get into a short story class in college that you had to submit a story to get into and didn’t even make it on the waitlist. Nothing stuck. But hey, I was unemployed and I came up with a funny premise that I wasn’t too attached to, so why not?

The book is not funny. It was supposed to, but it’s changed a lot. I’m very comfortable writing in camp. It’s difficult because I know sometimes I have my moments, but often I don’t. I also chose to write it in a genre I’m not super familiar with (Young Adult contemporary, I read Young Adult and Adult fiction primarily). I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the things I thought would come easily did not come easily. I have a lot of male friends, so I could certainly write the male characters as real people, right? Right? I’m funny, so the humor would come across well, right? Did I anticipate that after years of pretty much only analyzing films critically I’d subconsciously structure my story using dialogue-driven storytelling similar to a screenplay? No! Not at all, actually! This journey of self-discovery has been ass at every corner!

I recognize that first drafts are shit and authors hate their writing, but also I’m built different, your honor. By 15k words in, I realized I needed an outside perspective. I hated my own writing and I was afraid none of the characters were coming off right. I needed feedback, and I still do. But I hate being perceived. As long as no one reads my writing, they think that I know what I’m talking about and value my opinion on their writing, but once they figure out I’m just an Imposter then it’s game over. They’ll lose respect for me. Logically, I know this isn’t how this works, but I feel physically nauseous whenever someone reads my writing.

Anyways, back to my much-needed criticism. To make a long story short involving several English teacher that caused me to quit pursuing writing altogether in my formative years and decide to switch to a STEM track, I have very little tangible self-awareness of my own writing and how to improve it. I need the outside feedback, or at least I did. I’m 60k words into my first draft now and I’m cripplingly self aware of all my errors, but it feels too little too late. 60k words are a lot of words, and it feels not great knowing that most of them are trash. I really needed this kind of feedback earlier in the process so I could make tweaks early on. I know that writing is like a muscle and you need to work it out and practice to get stronger, but fuck man, FUCK. 60k words is a LOT of words. And I still need people to read it and give me feedback and I’m literally willingly asking people to read shit. It’s so humiliating. I guess I’m just at a point where I wish I could look at it and find something of value in what I’ve written.

I see other authors and I get so jealous. At their confidence, at their lyricism, their mastery of the art, their enthusiasm for their story, their love of their characters. I don’t have that. I’m not even talking about imposter’s syndrome. I know what that feels like. This is something else. I just wish I was the kind of person who could openly be creative without wanting to die. I’m 100% sure if I could be enthusiastic about the story I want to tell, the entire thing would be better. It’s crazy how I noticed that I’m not writing any metaphors into realizing that’s directly connected with my inability to be vulnerable and that I’m detaching myself from my work. That, and the fact that I’m fucking shite at writing metaphors apparently.

It also doesn’t help that I don’t have a writer group of friends and very little people to talk about this with, none of which are like… enthusiastic. It’s not their fault. I attract people into my life who are very much like me. They’re supportive and wonderful but I need someone who’d be excited to talk to me about it. I just feel like such a huge burden all the time. Everytime I bring it up I feel terrible, but it’s occupying so much of my brain space and I have no outlet. But also, getting that group of friends would require me to be vulnerable online and be willing to share what I have so far which I might actually throw up.I think it’s very fun that “crying and throwing up” has become a saying on Twitter considering that I’ve counted a countless amount of times this year and thrown up from stress four times since last November. It might also be connected to coffee consumption, but if that’s true I’m ready to off myself because coffee is one of my few joys. Honestly, it’s probably a mix of both. I’m very healthy, very much okay.

I don’t know. Last year, I ended my little essay on a hopeful note. Here’s the thing, this may seem like very much just stream of consciousness bullshit but there is quite a bit of structuring I do and omissions I make. I didn’t talk about my struggles reconnecting with people and subsequently taking their irregular replies, because there’s a lot to get into there. There’s a lot I could’ve talked about, but no room. There’s a very specific flow, and I feel like any story, it needs a conclusion. So last year, through tears, I wrote a hopeful ending. It was as much for me as it was to the people reading it. Unfortunately, I don’t have it in it for me to conclude in the same fashion this time around.

The truth is, I need to feel okay. I need to feel like I’m good at something, anything, and be recognized for it.

Life is suffering and I’m just constantly going through the motions. I promise you, this stupid thing is 3k words and the second I’m done I’ll go back to working on my b**k even though today I literally started crying thinking about how shit it is. I’m just a tenacious individual. I persist. I don’t feel good about it, and I’m done with being genuinely hopeful, but there’s nothing to do but keep moving. I don’t know if my writing will get better or if I’ll ever get published or if this story is worth it. I don’t fucking know anything and I feel like shit. But what else am I going to do? I’ve been holding onto this hope that I’ll feel better about things for just so long and it hasn’t happened. But I’m not giving up lmao I’m just working with what I have. I am at my limit.

#mine #bean spews

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anotheronechicagobog · 4 years

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Bulletproofness and Playing God Jay Halstead x reader

written by: @anotheronechicagobog

requested by @confusedpimp, I hope you like it!

warnings: swearing, addiction, Hannah Asher is NOT porprayed well in this you have been warned, malpractice, emergency c-section complications, involves Chicago Med episode ‘Do No Harm’, police being idiots and assholes, warrants served incorrectly, drugs, drug dealers, bad neighbourhood created by systematic oppression and gentrification, Will is a prick with issues, and canon compliant violence

A/N: I am very sympathetic and supportive of people who have addictions because not only are there a tone of genetic factors that weigh in on it, but environmental factors that most people have very little to no control over. That being said, I am strongly against people with addictions working in healthcare, first responding, and/or law enforcement who spend most of their time with vulnerable people who don’t have much of a choice about whether to trust them or not. If someone works in an area where they have someone’s life in their hands they cannot be addicted to a substance that will control their ability to make judgements, affect how/their ability to work, and function as a whole.

In the past eight months, a warrant has been served to your apartment twenty-one times. You haven’t done anything wrong, the name on the warrants was always for your upstairs neighbour, did this make being woken up and the fucking crack of dawn and being interrogated (sometimes arrested) any easier? Not even a fucking bit. So you weren’t surprised when at 3:28 am, your door was busted open (again), heard shouts of “Chicago PD!” (again), and heard your house being “cleared” (again). You groaned and sat up, holding your hands up. Your bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. “I am unarmed, Marcus Evans lives in the apartment upstairs, and I have no association to him.” In the blandest voice possible, you recited the statement the legal aid at your university wrote you. “Uh... Sorry? Hey, Sarg, I think I’ve figured out why there were so many unsuccessful warrants on this place.” The blonde man was still pointing a gun at your head, but more members of his unit came to surround him.

“Can I put my hands down now? I have documents that prove I am innocent, that the warrant was served to the wrong address, again, and that the only connection I have to Marcus Evans is that he is my annoying upstairs neighbour.”

They all sheepishly looked at you. The Latina woman spoke up, “the apartment is clear of anything even remotely illegal. Well, aside from the power lines attached to her box outside that show that her neighbours have been stealing power and internet from her.”

‘Sarg’, an older man with silver hair with a surprised look on his face nodded. “Alright, put ‘em down and get us the papers.”

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Despite all the evidence that the warrant wasn’t meant for you, they still insisted on taking you down to the station. You refused since they couldn’t arrest you and had no grounds to hold you on, and Sergeant Voight did not like that. “I’m too tired to give a shit about what you want. I have three jobs, student loans, and university to deal with. The only things of value in my apartment are my crappy laptop and internet access. The only time I am ever here is to sleep. You already disturbed what little sleep I was able to get, and I have work in... Forty-five minutes. Just great. Please leave, and can one of you, for the love of all things holy put a note in the system that this is NOT Marcus Evans’ apartment?!” Everyone flinched at your outburst, all looking both sympathetic and annoyed except for Detective Halstead, he just looked very sad for you. “Of course,” he said as he handed you a business card, “if you could call me when you have time, we have some pretty important questions.” Sargent Voight shot him a look, one that clearly said ‘what the fuck are you doing? That’s not your call.’ “Okay. Now seriously, please leave.” Irritated and muttering under their breath, barring Halstead who gave you a smirk and a wink, they all left stepping over the splinters of the door you replaced three weeks before.

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The next day after entering your sparsely decorated apartment, dropping dead on your bed/couch, you heard the distinctive sounds of a door being broken down, followed by the police announcing themselves, and an apartment being searched... Above yours. They finally got the right apartment! Despite the ache in your muscles and bones, you jumped up and cheered. Complete and utter elation surrounded you and your soul. A few minutes into your dancing and celebrating there was a knock on the door. Smiling brighter than you had in years you answered the door. “Good morning detective!”

“Well, good morning to you too, Ms. Y/L/N. You’re in a much better mood.”

“To be fair, you guys busted into my apartment at three in the morning, again, and I just heard everything that happened upstairs, you guys finally got the right apartment!”

“Hey, we never served more than one warrant here.”

“Your unit only served one, but your brothers in blue served twenty-one. Destroying property, unlawful arrest, causing severe anxiety, and just general harassment for eight months. The only reason I didn’t move was because I couldn’t afford to. I’m just happy it’s over now, I’ll never have a Marcus Evans warrant served at my apartment again!” Halstead looked happy when you opened the door and your conversation began, but when you finally took a breath you noticed how guilty he looked. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking like he was in physical pain, before he nodded at you and walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly confused.

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Two days later you returned from two ten-hour shifts to Jay Halstead in front of your door. “Detective?”

“Please, call me Jay.”

“Alright, Jay, what are you doing here? Is everything okay with Marcus’s arrest?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine with that. I came here because of this.” He handed you a large manilla envelope. “What’s this?”

“Compensation. For everything that happened over the last eight months. And apartment listings in better neighbourhoods. Seriously, you need to get out of here, it’s way too dangerous.”

“Thanks for the advice, and the compensation, I’ll think about it. But it just might not be doable for me.”

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You couldn’t afford to move, something that irked Jay to no end. So he came around often. Dropping by with coffee and Irish breakfasts. Sharing his Netflix password and watching B99 together. Driving you home from work or university when it was late. The days grew shorter, and your hours of work grew longer. Jay worried. About you. About the number of hours you worked. About how much university work you had. About your health, how much (or little, really) you slept and ate, how you didn’t see the doctor as often you should (ironic considering you were in med school), and about how you never took time to relax, always jumping from one task to the next.

You slumped against the passenger seat of Jay’s truck, exhausted after working for thirty hours straight, ten at each of your jobs. “Okay, seriously, you can’t keep living like this. I have a spare room, I can get you a civilian job at my precinct. You are wearing yourself to the bone. Please, Y/N.”

“I get my residency assignment tomorrow. I quit today.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“All three.”

“And you’ll move out of your apartment?”

“Nope.” Popping the ‘p’. Jay sighed and shook his head, before looking at your half-asleep form. “I’ll take you to the shithole you call a home.”

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TWO YEARS LATER

Jumping up and down you waited for Jay to open the door. The envelopes sitting on his coffee table glaring at you. You flopped onto his couch (that didn’t also double as a bed) and huffed impatiently. Fidgeting.

The door opened and you jumped up, startling your best friend. His cop/ranger instincts taking over. He stiffly dropped his jacket and yanked out his gun before aiming it for your head. Panic coursed through you, tightening your chest. Reflexively you put up your hands, not able to control the words that bubbled out of your throat. “I’m bulletproof... But please don’t shoot me.” Jay lowered his gun, laughing. “‘Bulletproof’? Really?”

“Hey, I panicked, shut up.”

“What’re you doing here, anyway? I thought you were taking another shift?”

“I was, but then Sarah’s plans fell through so she decided to take her shift back, plus I got my fellowship applications back!”

“Where did you get accepted?!”

“I don’t know I was waiting for you to get back to open them!”

“Well I’m here now, so open them!”

“Okay, okay, here we go; Honolulu general, accepted, Seattle Grace, no, but they had a bomb blow up there recently so I’m not heartbroken, Chicago med, yes, and Miami Dade Memorial, yes. Okay 3/4, that’s great! What do you think?”

“Well I’m biased, so Chicago Med, but it would be fun to visit you in Hawaii.”

“Hawaii is so expensive though, I’d probably have to have a part-time job to make rent.”

“In a decent apartment this time.”

“Two part-time jobs, then. So Hawaii is out, now Miami... It is hot there, beaches, the ocean, the food, but Miami Dade Memorial isn’t very prominent in the research department and the crime rate is awful in the part I’d need to live and work in. I mean I know isn’t a whole lot better but... It would feel a bit like moving from bad to worse, especially on my budget.”

“So that leaves Chicago...”

“It does, but I think I need to find a new place that’s closer to Med and filled with less dug dealers.”

“Please tell me this was a subtle way of asking if you can move in with me.”

“It wasn’t, but now that you bring it up, would that be okay?”

“YES! Oh thank fuck, you’re finally moving out of that rat’s nest! C’mon, let’s go get your stuff now!”

“But Jay I just paid this month’s rent-“

“Let’s gooooooooooo!”

——————————————————————————————————-

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Because your apartment was in such a “great location” (in the same building as three drug dealers) your landlord was willing to give half of your rent back. It had only taken you twenty-something minutes to pack your things and leave. Now you were starting your surgical OB/GYN fellowship, excited to not be working multiple jobs at once for the first time since you were twelve. While Jay’s brother, Will, worked at Med as well he worked in the ED while you worked in the gynecology unit and you were thankful you only had to work together for consults or in an all hands on deck situation because he could be a fucking prick. When you first met him years ago he spent two hours quizzing your medical knowledge, and he got annoyed when you got everything right and he couldn’t correct you. So when you got a consult from him your first week there, you were apprehensive. “Hey Y/N, treatment room four.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” You pushed back the curtain and were met with the sight of a pregnant woman clearly in immense pain and a frustrating ginger. “Dr. Asher is her OB but we can’t find her anywhere. She was on-call but I, and a couple of nurses, and her secretary have been blowing up her phone and we’ve got nothing back. This is her patient Sienna. She’s in a lot of pain but is refusing painkillers, you’ve been working with her a lot lately-“ You snorted. His facial expression hardened. “Just come out and say it Y/L/N.”

“First of all it’s doctor Y/L/N, second of all, I haven’t been ‘working’ with her, I’ve been taking care of ‘her’ patients because she’s almost never at work. She just cancels the appointments short notice and since these women are kind of on a timeline their appointments get reassigned to other doctors. She’s listed as their doctor on all the forms but she’s never even met half of them. Sienna is the only patient that Dr. Asher has seen more than once.”

“Don’t talk about her like that, you don’t know-“

“That she’s an addict? The entire OB floor knows we just don’t have enough proof to do anything about it. And don’t get me wrong, I know that there’s a lot of genetic components to addiction and I would be sympathetic if she wasn’t responsible for multiple lives at a time on a daily basis.” You turned on your heel and entered the room, done with Will Halstead and his bullshit. “Hi Sienna, my name is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, and I’ll be filling in for Dr. Asher, I understand that you don’t want any drugs and while that’s fine, if your condition gets bad enough we may have to intervene but we’ll do everything we can for you and your baby, okay?”

“Where’s Dr. Asher? I need her here, she understands!”

“Okay, we’re still trying to find her okay?”

—————————————————————————————————

“So I heard that you and my brother locked horns today.”

“Your brother is a prick.”

“I know that he is, I’m just wondering what happened this time.”

“He’s doing this weird ethical-puppy love-guilt trippy-Romeo and Juliet level of doomed-unnecessary drama-thing going on and it’s completely affecting how he treats his patients. We already had one loose cannon we couldn’t disarm, now we have another. It’s come to the point that I’m genuinely worried about the patients that come into Med, and I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just try not to antagonize Will, okay? He’s more on edge and that makes him erratic, I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t make it worse.”

“Okay. I’ll leave him alone.”

“Thank you. I’m starving, what should we do for dinner?”

“Vietnamese is on the way.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are today?”

“Yes, but I would love to hear it again.”

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Dr. Asher’s medical negligence had finally caught up with her, and for once Will wasn’t even remotely involved. He and Asher were having one of their silent spats again when Asher dropped the ball, or baby rather, during an emergency c-section of a patient she misdiagnosed and mistreated because she was in need of a fix. The only reason the mother didn’t hemorrhage and baby didn’t crack his skull was because of your observations and quick reflexes. The baby was healthy and mom was recovering and you were fuming. After scrubbing out you approached the, understandably distressed, father and told him that on your best medical opinion he and his wife should file a malpractice suit for missing an easy and obvious diagnosis, screwing up a routine surgery, and almost killing his son seconds after he was born.

You met with him, his lawyer and Asher two days later in a conference room with Goodwin and Peter the Stressed Out Lawyer. You accused her of having an addiction. The father requested a drug test. Goodwin glared, you glared back. If she didn’t want it handled like this then she should have dealt with it months ago when you brought it up your second week at Med. She tried to approach you in the hall, condescension on the tip of her tongue when you levelled her with a glare so fierce it rivalled that of Godzilla. “You do not get to scold me like I am a child. I told you when I first got here that she has a problem. That she is a danger to everyone who comes into her care. That she is a danger to other doctors. That she is a liability. Do not bitch to me when I told a husband and father who almost his wife and son to her recklessness to sue. To get angry and fight back. Do not take that petty, catty, condescending tone with me because I went around you. You have absolutely no ground to stand on. Because. You. Were. Wrong.”

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You were surprised you had a job to come back to the next day. So was a very pissed off and ‘heartbroken’ Will Halstead. He kept running around to your colleagues, badmouthing you, trying to get them to join in and turn on you, but that didn’t happen. They not only agreed with you but rallied around you. Doctors are not gods. They do not get to ignore a patient’s wishes or act like they don’t have restrictions and limitations. It came to the point that Will told Jay he didn’t approve of you and that he had to dump you... Despite the fact that you weren’t dating.

Jay had rolled his eyes and pushed Will out of the apartment before giving you a hug and made you pancakes for dinner. “I’m sorry that I messed up your relationship with Will.”

“Don’t be. We’re brothers, we fight from time to time, and sometimes those fights are bigger than others and that’s okay. Will, well Halsteads in general, are pretty good at torpedoing any and all romantic relationships.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My parents only got married cause my mom got knocked up and fought non-stop, Will was and still is in love with Natalie but he was too controlling, secretive, and refused to tell her about Burke, and me... Lindsay and I were on a break before we left because my Vegas wife refused to divorce me and I didn’t tell her I had even been to Vegas.”

“Okay, so maybe it’s a little true, but it’s not because you’re bad people or Even just saying ‘yes there’s something going on but I don’t feel ready to talk about it with you’ would go a long way. Cause all you Halstead guys say is that you’re fine but you never are and if you lie to yourself you lie to your partner.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And tell Will when his head is surgically removed from Asher’s ass. You’ve seen that he follows her around like a puppy, right?”

“Yup, everyone on the OB floor has been talking about it nonstop since he started his whatever it was with Asher.”

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EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Because of the suit, the hospital conducted an internal investigation in relation to Dr. Asher that pretty much everyone could confirm. Erratic behaviour and attendance, leaving other doctors to tend to her patients while keeping her name on the case files, and horrifying evidence of being high while working. Granted that had only happened twice and she literally just sat in her office staring at paperwork the whole time. Still, she was fired, the suit was settled, and Asher lost her license. You had destroyed her career and while there was a part of you that felt guilty, you knew that in the end she did the right thing. She refused help and kept carrying on in a way that would have been detrimental to more patients if other doctors hadn’t stepped in. Will still wasn’t talking to you and had started avoiding Jay recently because you two started dating.

Barring the tension from all the Will stuff, your relationship was doing well. You had great dates (both out and at the apartment), were radiating happiness together, and Jay was taking your words about communication to heart. Not once has the phrase ‘I’m fine’ dripped off of his lips. If he didn’t want to tell you something or was more comfortable talking about it with his therapist or Upton before you he’d let you know. Most times he would just talk about what was bothering him, even if it was only bullet points sometimes you both felt relieved that functional relationships were actually possible.

You were on a date with Jay at your favourite Jamaican restaurant when you ran into Hannah Asher. She did not look pleased to see you and quite honestly you could have lived the rest of your life happily if you never had to see her again. After a few seconds of glaring at you and your boyfriend, an annoying ginger put his arm around her. “Hi Will. How are you?”

“My girlfriend and I are doing well Jacob.”

“Really Will? You’re using my whole name because my-”

“Okay, you know what? Let’s go our separate ways. It looked like you guys were just leaving, and we’re probably confusing our poor hostess. So let’s both just walk away.”

“You ruined my life.”

“Asher-”

“You took everything from me!”

“Do you have any idea how many patients you almost killed in your time at Med? Because I do, and it’s a triple-digit number. You shouldn’t have been practicing in your condition and you know it. So you need to drop the victim act and walk away.” You saw her face contort into complete and utter rage, then everything is hazy. There were lights, bright red ones, and screaming, you were pretty sure Jay was there, and there was... Copper? Why did your mouth feel like it was full of liquid pennies? There was gurgling, was there a baby? Were they okay? You tried to speak, get up, look around, but you were too tired. You were begging yourself to move, to do something, but it felt like your bones turned into melting iron.

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You didn’t remember waking up, or falling asleep for that matter, you were just looking at the glass door and suddenly it came into focus. You didn’t even know how you got to the ED, what happened at the restaurant. Dr. Choi entered your room apprehensively. “Y/L/N? How are you feeling?”

“Like I was mauled by a tiger.”

“That’s... Actually pretty close to what happened, honey.”

“Jay?”

“Hey, I’m right here. So, what’s the prognosis Choi?”

“Multiple contusions on the right side of the abdomen, lower back and around your neck, multiple lacerations all over your abdomen, forearms, and two on your head. Your liver was also perforated, we couldn’t stop the bleeding so we had to remove half of it, which you know means it’ll take a couple of months to grow back and you won’t be able to drink for around a year. We’re going to need to monitor you and run some tests, so you’re gonna be here for a few days.”

“Well I should hope so. What? Why are you two looking at me like I have eight heads? I could’ve died.”

“... You actually want to stay in the hospital and be cared for by your colleagues?”

“I trust you, besides I’ll only make things worse if I check myself out AMA, doesn’t matter how good of a doctor I am. It’ll be hard and I’m not going to enjoy it, but I have to stay here and get treated regardless so I might as well be as positive as I can about it.”

“You are officially my favourite patient.”

“And I love you even more.”

“Thanks guys, I appreciate it.”

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“What happened Jay? I don’t remember anything after telling her to walk away.”

“She went berserk. Attacked you. I tried to pull her off but Will lost his mind, telling me not to hurt her. I managed to toss him after a couple of seconds but I was too late. She’d already slashed you up and stabbed you twice. I grabbed her but she managed to get a bunch of kicks in while I was hauling her away from you all while screaming that she was going to kill you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you. She’s sitting in a cell at the 21st right now with Platt breathing down her neck. We also did a drug test on her, she was high as all hell.”

“Please don’t feel bad Jay, I know that you reacted as fast and did as much as you could. And I know that Will did what he could to stop you. How is Will by the way?”

“He’s in the cell next to hers. He assaulted a police officer and was an accomplice in assault. Voight’s been asking if I want to drop the charges against him because he’s my brother. And I just don’t know, I wanted to talk to you first.”

“I don’t want to charge him. And I don’t want you to press charges either, but I won’t stop you if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want him to go to jail, I want him to go to therapy. He needs it.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but he really does. And I think you need to be the one to bring it up with him. We can do some research, too, and find psychiatrists that have their own practices so that it’s not connected to the hospital at all.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but I think you mean I do the research cause you are supposed to be resting and not doing any physically or mentally strenuous tasks.”

“Fine, fine. Just give Will a hug from me when you see him.”

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ONE YEAR LATER

The day of the trial had finally arrived and you were pissed off about it. The date of the trial was the same day as your due date. The defence had done everything they could to delay the trial, and when they finally settled on the worst possible day three weeks ago, you’d tried to have it delayed again because you didn’t want to give birth in a courtroom. The defence had convinced the judge to deny it, so here you were, sitting in a sweltering room that smelled like old wood and seventies carpet for five hours beside your husband behind the district attorney doing your best not to glare at the judge. “It’s going to be okay, honey, she won’t get away with anything, it’s cut and dry. The only real thing to do is to determine her sentence.” Jay kissed your forehead and placed his hand on top of yours on your protruding stomach. You winced. “She just kicked again, Jay.”

“That’s seven minutes apart.”

“I’m in labour, we need to go.” Jay nodded to your lawyer who motioned to the judge for permission to speak. “Your honour, my client is in labour, may we adjourn so that she and her husband can go to the hospital?”

“Objection your honour!”

“Ms. Asher, do not interrupt the prosecution. I’ve heard and seen more than enough evidence. Ms. Asher, you are hereby sentenced to twenty-five years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murder. The court now is adjourned. Oh, and Dr. Y/L/N and detective Halstead? Congratulations.”

#One Chicago #Chicago PD #chicago med #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #will halstead #Hannah Asher #sharon goodwin

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cynicalrecoverysociety · 3 years

Text

Journal Post

I'm trying to get back into my normal this week. Starting today. I've been in a bit of a slump for like at least 6 weeks now and my uncle dying/partner's birthday gave me an opportunity to really let myself go. I'm not mad at myself or disappointed, but I think it's time to be honest at least. It's okay when tragedy knocks you down but this was more than that. I had been struggling with my mental health a bit and while I figured out some stuff I really stopped talking care of my body and spirit. And I know for a fact that taking care of myself in the other ways helps my mental health. But I was just so exhausted by the battle in my head I completely gave up on everything else.

Again, I don't regret this decision. It was what I needed at the time. But it is time to analyze the situation and make a plan to get back the habits that kept me in a better place. I'm . . . not really looking forward to it but this past week of true decadence has really taught me that that doesn't solve any problems. I am glad I took time off work but all the soda and candy and whatnot I used all week did nothing but give me a tummy ache. It wasn't even that good. I ate out constantly, drank fun drinks, but turns out that once you start deconstructing your emotional eating it is no longer effective at controlling your emotions. Weird. Unfortunate sometimes. But probably for the best.

Anyway. My body feels like garbage and my mind feels off somehow. There aren't words associated with anything I'm feeling really. Just a general kind of funk. Like I'm easily angered by covidiots and similar, reality is in general depressing. I really can't tell how much of this I can work through and how much I have to sit with forever because of how society fundamentally works and I have no ability to change it or opt out. And deciphering how much depression and anxiety I am required to have because of the amount I have to participate in society is a depressing concept in itself. Is it healthy to embrace that we live in a boring dystopia and learn to adapt? Or is it healthy to be positive about the trajectory of society and hope for the best? Does is even make a difference if all I can do in either situation is vote? I can't tell anymore. Optimism and a positive mental attitude are important, but so is accepting the reality of things out of your control. Perhaps it's a balance. Perhaps we do currently live in a capitalist hellscape that is destroying everyone and everything from the inside out and also maintain that it doesn't always have to be like this. I'm quite tired of trying to figure everything out.

I am tired. Bone tired. I know that if I give up this fight now I will not be walking away, just giving it to future me. A future me that will not be any better equipped to handle it. Rest is not making me less tired. Giving up did not make me less tired. I think the only way out is through. But I'm just tired.

I don't feel okay. I might not for a while. But at the very least I have to get some of my habits back and see if it helps. If all the "you are worthy of rest" philosophy isn't working maybe the "work hard even if you cry a lot" one will work.

Okay. Goals. I want to go whole hog. But let's just start small this week.

Fasting, 6 days a week. Start using Zero again at least for now to track.

No eating out. I was doing great at this, ordered in a lot since the death, but getting this back on track isn't that hard

Go to work every day. If I'm legit sick that's fine but try not to take any more mental health days because they actually just make me really anxious and guilty 99% of the time. Better to feel like shit on the clock anyway.

Track water and get at least 3 bottles a day. If I get the gumption to track meals a well all the better.

I'm stopping there. I really want to add more like doing yoga or something but I'm adding those to next week. As a bonus point, if I can manage to go for a walk and do some spiritual stuff, that's great. If I can just manage this, I'm doing better than I was. It's a start.

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blackhakumen · 3 years

Text

Mini Fanfic #771: Burgers Date Night (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

7:34 p.m. at Big Bang Burgers.......

Kyoko: (Giggles Softly While Sitting Next to Her Girlfriend and Boyfriend Together on a One Sided Table) I still can't believe you actually wore a tuxedo on our date night, Pitto-Kins~

Misako: (Starts Snickering) Yeah. (Playfully Pulls Dark Pit's Cheek Next to Her) Were you planning on wooing us for the rest of the night, babe?~

Dark Pit: (Scoffs While Rolling his Eyes) You wish. I'm only wearing this cause mom told me that I should look presentable in these type of occasions....

Kyoko: Was it your goddess mom that told you that or your witch mom?

Dark Pit: Both of them.....But speaking of which, why exactly didn't you guys wanna go to your school prom tonight? Not that I mind spending the night here eating out or anything, but isn't attending prom suppose to be more important or something?

Misako: (Simply Shrugs) Nah. We just never really been interested in going to that kind of stuff.

Kyoko: Yeah. (Slumps Her Head Down on the Table) It also doesn't help the fact that stupid Hasebe and Mami are attending there too. One of them probably already won Prom Queen as we speak....

Misako: (Starts Rolling her Eyes in Annoyance) Or both of them at the same time.....

Dark Pit: You really don't like those girls, do you?

Misako: Not in a million years. They've been a pain in our asses since kindergarten.

Kyoko: Always thinking they're so much better than us in every way.....

Dark Pit: ('Tch') Please. There's no way those stuck up twerps are better than either of you girls.

Misako: Tell that everyone else in our classes.....

Dark Pit: Well, your classmates obviously have piss-poor taste. You guys are a lot more amazing than anyone gives you credit for. Or at least....(Starts Blushing a Little) I....think you're both amazing.....

Kyoko: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness as She Hugs Dark Pit on her Side) Your such a sweetheart, Pitto-Kins~

Misako: (Hugs Dark Pit and Kyoko on Her Side) Yeah. Not to mention a handsome cutie too~ (Gives Dark Pit a Kiss on the Cheek)

Dark Pit: (Blush Turns Brightly Red as He Starts Bashfully Looking Away) W-Whatever.... Can we just order something already?

Kyoko: Ooh! (Excitedly Points at a Picture of a Giant Looking Burger on Front of Her Menu) We can totally do the Big Bang Burger challenge together!

Misako: (Raised an Eyebrow in a Bit of Confusion) "The Big Bang..." what now?

Kyoko: The Big Bang Burger challenge! It's this really cool challenge everyone been talking about in school. We'll be King and and Queens in this establishment if we can beat!

Misako: King and queens, huh? (Turns to Dark Pit) What do you say, DP? Wanna give this challenge a go?

Dark Pit: (Simply Shrugs) Eh. I'm down. Might not gonna be that much of a challenge any-

Few Minutes Later......

The trio widened their eyes in horror at how big and wide the Big Bang Burger in front of them, really is.

Strength..... Courage.....Wit..... Endurance.....All these skills and more are cruial to completing THE BIG BANG BURGER CHALLENGE!!!

Kyoko: I-I-Is this really that big of a burger?.....

Waiter: (Smiles Brightly) Yep! Biggest one we've made so far. We here at Big Bang Burgers would like to wish you lovely couple the best of luck. (Walks Away) You are gonna need it....

'Door Close'

Misako: ...................This is a mistake.

Dark Pit: I'd say we get the hell up out of here before anyone noticed.

Misako: Agreed. (Was About to Leave Out of Her Table With Dark Pit Until....)

Kyoko: (Stops her Girlfriend and Boyfriend While Pouting at Them) Guys!! We can't leave here yet! We have to do the challenge!

Dark Pit: (Turns Back to Kyoko) Kyoko, have you SEEN how big this fucking shit is!?

Misako: There's no way we can finish that!

Kyoko: ('Sigh') Look, I know this burger is big, scary, and could probably give us a menacing looking glare if it has eyes, but if we're able to beat mean girls, jocks, and thugs into submission, then I'm sure we can handle a measly big burger, am I right?

Misako: (Takes her Girlfriend Words into Consideration Before Sighing in Defeat) Our adorably dense girlfriend is right?

Kyoko: Hey!!!

Misako: (Turns to Dark Pit While Ignoring Kyoko Altogether) We can't back out of this challenge now. Not without fight.

Dark Pit: ('Sighs in Defeat') Damnit, you're right. (Turns Back Towards the Burger Along With his Girlfriends) on the count of four: we eat this motherfucker like hell. In a one....in a two....in a one, two three, four-

Twenty Minutes Later.....

Dark Pit/Kyoko/Misako: (Groans Miserably and Slumped Their Heads Down onto the Table While Being Completely Full in the Process) 'Ughhhhhhhhh'

Kyoko: My tummy can't take anymore.....

Misako: Tell me about it.....I don't wanna see another damn burger for as long as I live......

Dark Pit: (Turns Back to the Waiter Standing in Front of their Table) Please tell that we were AT LEAST this close of the beating the challenge......

Waiter: Can't say that you have I'm afraid. (Smiles Brightly) But you're efforts this evening was spot on to say the at least.

Misako: (Starts Rolling her Eyes Again) Spare me the enlightenment crap already....

Kyoko: (Rest her Head onto One Side of Dark Pit's Shoulder) So....full......

Dark Pit: (Gently Rubs Kyoko's Head) Who would be this crazy enough to finish a challenge like that.

Waiter: Well, if you must know....(Shows the Trio a Taken Photo of the BBB Challenge's Hall of Fame on his Tablet)

Kyoko: (Amazed by the Picture in Question) Woah.......

Misako: Hey, wait. (Points at the Frame Up Top of a Very Familiar Face) DP, is that your older brother at the top.

Dark Pit: (Takes a Look at What Misako is Pointing at Before Groaning in Annoyance) ('Ugh') Should've fucking known.....

.........................................................

Dark Pit: Hey.

Ren: Hey there, champ. How your little date goin' along?

Dark Pit: Exhausting. We tried that stupid Big Bang Burger Challenge and failed miserably.

Ren: Lol really?

Dark Pit: Yeah. REALLY!

Dark Pit: Pain.jpg

Ren: Wow. You guys looked pitiful lol.

Dark Pit: No shit Sherlock.

Dark Pit: Word has it that you were known as the King of the place.....

Dark Pit: Is that true?

Ren: I...... don't know what you're talking about I'm afraid.

Dark Pit: The Champion.jpg

Ren: That obviously could've been someone else in that frame.

Dark Pit: You're really gonna start lying to me right now, Joker boy?

Dark Pit: I thought your Queen specifically told you not to take the challenge anymore....

Ren: She did!

Ren: I just...Think that could've been anyone in that picture, ya know?

Dark Pit: I'm five seconds away from texting her right now, man.

Ren: Okay! Okay! Fine! You win! I did take that challenge last year! Back when Banjo and I went to their grand opening

Ren: I wanted to impressed him. So I.... decided to take on the challenge.

Ren: Still surprised I completed it TBF....

Dark Pit: Interesting.....

Ren: Please don't tell Makoto about this.

Ren: Graduation is coming in a couple of days. And the last thing I want for her right now to be worried about my health.

Dark Pit: That depends really....

Dark Pit: It'll cost ya.

Ren: Fiiiine..... I'll give you ten bucks.

Dark Pit: Give me Twenty and you got yourself a deal.

Ren: Don'tcha think you're pushing it there, Pitto-Kins?

Dark Pit: Oh look. Makoto's name is already showing up on my contact list

Ren: Alright! Alright! Twenty dollars! Take it or leave it!

Dark Pit: You got yourself a deal, Joker boy.

.....................................................

Eventually Outside of the Burger Joint............

Dark Pit: (Walking Next to his Two Girlfriends on the Sidewalk) Sorry this date isn't as glamorous as some prom night...

Kyoko: Are you kidding? (Happily Rest her Head on One Side of DP's Shoulder While Hugging one of his Arms) This was the best date night ever~

Misako: (Rest her Head on the Other Side of DP's Shoulder While Hugging his Other Arm) I agree. We rather spend the whole night with our sweetheart of an angel than attend some dumb-

'Limousine Horm'

Without warning, a white luxurious limousine suddenly coming next to the sidewalk with none other than Hasebe & Mami standing on the sunroof with smug looks on each of their faces.

Hasebe: Well, what do we have here? A bunch of peasants walking alone on the sidewalk.

Mami: Like, guess who won Prom Queen this year?~

Misako: (Starts Rolling her Eyes in Annoyance) Both of you?

Hasebe/Mami: Both of us!~

Kyoko: Go figure.....

Mami: Like, who would've thought being ridiculously popular and obviously better than you two losers could give us both the title?~

Hasebe: I know, right?~ What a crazy world!~ By the by....(Points at Dark Pit) Who's the angel freak in the middle?

Dark Pit: (Eyes Widened in Anger) The fuck did you just called m-

Misako: (Gently Squeezes Dark Pit's Arn to Calm Him Down) His name is Dark Pit. (Smiles Softly at the Angel) Our boyfriend.

Kyoko: (Happily Snuggles her Head Onto her Side of Dark Pit's Shoulder) Whom we love very much~ (Gives DP a Kiss on the Cheek)

Dark Pit: (Smiles a Little While Blushing)

Hasebe: ('Ugh') Of course you two would date s weirdo like him.

Dark Pit: Takes one to know one, bitches. (Gives the Middle Finger at the Duo)

Misako: ('Heh') Yeah. (Gives Hasebe and Mami The Middle Finger as Well) Up yours, assholes.

Kyoko: (Giggles Softly at What is Going On Right Now)

Mami: ('Ugh') Whatever. We were like, leaving anyways.

Hasebe: Takes us away, Limo Driver!

And with that, the limousine begins to drive off. Leaving the couple behind.

Dark Pit: ('Sigh') I think I'm starting to see why you guys hate them so much....

Misako: Told ya they're bitches. (Turns to Dark Pit) You okay, babe?

Dark Pit: Yeah. I'm already over it. (Turns to Misako and Kyoko With a Small Smile) Mostly cause I got you two with me. Thanks.

Misako: (Smiles Back at DP) Oh please. You don't need to thank us for that.

Kyoko: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah, Pitto-Kins. We got your back no matter what!~

Dark Pit: Yeah. I know. You guys wanna spend the rest of the night back at my place?

Misako: Lead the way, handsome~ (Starts Walking Back to the Living with Her Boyfriend and Girlfriend With Her)

Kyoko: (Want Back to Resting her Head on Dark Pit's Shoulder While Walking) Can you give us lot of cuddles once we get there?~

Misako: Yeah. I second that request~

Dark Pit: Anything you desire, your highnesses~

@keyenuta

@caleb13frede

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

@miki-13

@princekirijo

@chompycroc

#super smash ultimate #river city girls #dark pit #misako #kyoko #ren amimaya #hasabe & mami #makoto (mentioned)#banjo (mentioned)#date night #cute romance #a bit of hurt/comfort #humor #dark pit x misako x kyoko #slight shumako #text message #edited

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bisexualdaemon · 4 years

Text

Taking Me Back

a/n: In which a drunk boy confesses his sins

Oh, hello! Yes, I’m coming to you live to say that this was supposed to be a blurb but turned out to be a 3.5k oneshot that will most likely actually have a second part because recovery is a thing that doesn’t get enough attention. I had this idea driving back home from out of town and listening to “Taking Me Back” by LANY. Highly suggest a listen. I was originally just going to write straight angst, but the more I wrote Shawn the softer I got...so without further ado, here it is.

warnings: 3.5k of angsty sad boy...you might hate me later idk

Soft pellets of rain splash against the floor-to-ceiling windows as his warm hands trace slow, circular patterns on the bare skin of your back. It’s soothing, incongruent to the feeling of his fingers bruising your hips as you rode him a few hours ago. The sheet sits low, draped across both your hips. He leans down to kiss your shoulder blade, sending a chill all the way down your spine. Peppered kisses warm your blood, making a home between your thighs again.

“If you don’t intend to finish what you’re starting, then stop right now,” you say only half sternly, your cheek smushed to the back of your hand resting against the mattress.

“Honey, have I ever been a quitter?” he smirks, disappearing beneath the sheet.

You let out a loud squeak when his massive hands flip your hips over, pressing your back into the sheets again. He spreads your knees wide to make room for him between your legs and your squeak turns into a deep moan. Your fingers fist into his floppy curls and tug, bringing his eyes to yours, mouth open and chest heaving.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he breathes. He says it again above you, inside you, over and over until your toes curl and you scream it back to him.

You woke up to heavy sheets of rain pounding against the windows. His fingers, his heavy body, his warmth weren’t there. He hadn’t been there for months. Restless sleep and a cold bed had been your companions since then. That day you woke up to 400 text messages and one TMZ report.

Bleary eyed with shaking fingers, you had clicked on the link. Seen the photos. His fingers interwoven with hers. His eyes on the camera. That knowing smirk. He’d wanted them to see. Wanted you to see. He had left for meetings in LA just two days before, a kiss on the forehead and a promise to call.

You’d lost count of how many texts from him you’d deleted without reading. Changed his name to LYING BASTARD after he’d left messages you didn’t listen to. What possible reason could he have given? There couldn’t be an explanation for this. Just because you’d never gone public with your relationship, just because you hadn’t wanted to open up your life to public scrutiny and fandom opinion, didn’t mean that it had meant nothing to you. The handful of your friends who had known were tight-lipped, dead silent to anyone who would have paid them money for information. What you had had with Shawn had been private and you both liked it that way...hadn’t he? Apparently not. It hadn’t been hard for him to throw it away with one clasped hand and a conveniently placed cactus.

The dreams still came almost every night, haunting you with happiness. Looking over at the clock, you groaned. 2:30 AM it blinked green against the darkness. You shifted and stared at the ceiling, counting thunderclaps, begging sleep to take you again. Take you back to a different time, a different dream. Your eyes began to drift.

Boom, boom.

Thunder rang louder than before. The storm was moving closer. But when had the lightning struck?

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

It wasn’t thunder. You wrenched the comforter off of you and scrambled to your feet. Someone was banging on the door. What had been a low and rumbling pattern of knocks at first was now frantic pounding. What in the world? Reaching for a thin cotton robe, you rushed to the front door.

“I’m coming!” you shouted, darting across the living room, “who is–”

You stopped short.

“Baby, please,” he sobbed. Shawn. Surprise mixed with hot rage and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The concoction was numbing, like liquid lidocaine traveling in your bloodstream from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes. You didn’t remember getting to the door or gripping the knob, but it swung open anyway.

Shawn Mendes fell into your apartment face first. He tripped over the threshold and into your stiff arms. He must have been leaning on the door frame.

“Oh god, I didn’t think you’d answer,” he slurred, smelling somewhere between a wet dog and straight tequila. You caught at his shoulders and pushed him up against the entryway wall.

“Shawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” you practically spat at him. Venum pooled in your mouth. It was acrid, all-consuming. It took a minute for the red rage clouding your vision to recede, allowing his face to come into sharp relief.

His cheeks were blotchy, stained with tears. His eyes glassy and unfocused. He was drunk. Drunker than you’d ever seen him. He was also soaking wet. His waterlogged clothes dripped fat drops that splashed on your hardwood floor forming a puddle under his expensive shoes.

“Did you walk here?”

He nodded his head. Well, it was more of a lull to the side if you were being honest.

“How?”

“With my feet,” he slurred again. He lurched off the wall and tried to take a step forward. Instead he pitched forward, wrapping his arms around you and soaking your robe through to the tank top underneath.

“I see you haven’t lost the sarcasm,” the poison you had tasted earlier was quickly replaced with concern. You slithered out from his embrace and let him lean against your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll get you a towel.”

You deposited him on your sofa and he immediately slumped sideways, laying his cheek against the cool leather. Grabbing some fresh towels from the hall closet, you took a second and leaned against the wall before going back to the living room, hidden from Shawn’s line of sight. Not that he’d see me anyway he’s so smashed. What is he doing here? Why here? Why me? Where is his precious famous girlfriend? Why isn’t she picking his drunk ass up off the couch?

The anger flared again but it had lost its bite. He was obviously in some kind of pain, but you weren’t going to get anything out of him like this. You sighed heavily, heading to the kitchen for water and some ibuprofen before returning to the couch.

“Shawn?” You crouched down next to him, reaching out to push a curl back off of his face. He was snoring, a bit of drool coming from the corner of his perfect lips. He was so peaceful.

Snap out of it.

“Shawn, you have to get out of these wet clothes.”

He stirred, opening just one eye to look at you. It took him a minute to reorient.

“How long was I asleep?” He swiped at his mouth and sat up slowly.

“About three minutes. Now get up and strip.” You stood above him expectantly, fighting the urge to tap your toe at him. He fumbled with the buttons on his dark blue silk Oxford shirt. The fabric stuck to every defined muscle in his torso, every cut of his biceps. You counted to thirty before he got one undone.

“You’re going to get hypothermia if you keep that up,” you thrust the towel at him, “how about you dry your hair instead and let me handle the hard stuff?”

He mussed his hair with the towel while you crouched down in front of him, making quick work of his buttons. When the shirt finally hung open, you pushed it back and off his shoulders, revealing what seemed like miles of lightly tanned skin. Dammit. How can he still be so fucking beautiful? You had tried to hate him, tried to block him from your memory, but he always came back. The memories and the feelings and the pain always came back.

You tossed his soaked shirt across the room near the door to the washer. His body sagged forward. His curls were dry, big and frizzed from root to tip, but at least he wasn’t catching a chill. He needed to get horizontal quickly or he was probably going to toss his cookies right here on your white leather couch.

“Shawn,” you tapped at his face to refocus him again, “drink this and take these.” You held out the water and ibuprofen. He took them with no argument. Definitely too drunk. Sober, he would have spouted some bullshit about over-the-counter drugs being bad for your health or toxic for your muscles or something he’d heard From Jocelyne or Cez. You were thankful that you didn’t have to listen to that nonsense tonight. He would thank you in the morning when the headache was dull instead of blinding.

“Now, stand up and strip off the rest of it,” you ordered.

“Naked, eh?” His eyebrow raised at the same time as the corner of his mouth. You rolled your eyes.

“Throw it over there with your shirt. I think I still have a pair of your boxers hanging around somewhere,” you grumbled, turning your back on him and marching toward the bedroom. The truth was that you knew you had a pair of his boxers because you’d washed them recently after wearing them to bed when you missed him. The dreams always felt more vivid on those nights but you wore them anyway. For the same reason I just invited his drunk ass inside tonight. Because I’m a fucking masochist. You grabbed the boxers, navy and white stripes with little anchors on them, and returned to your living room.

He stood in the center of the room, between the couch and his wet laundry, in nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. His skin was dry finally, flushed where he’d scrubbed at it, glowing in the low city lights trickling through the windows. He was a little dazed and a lot sleepy, inspecting his hands and fingers where they had pruned in the rain. It was like one of your dreams, a memory of what had been. Everything had been such a mess for the months he’d been gone. A gaping hole in your chest had opened and as much as you’d tried to mend, to get over him, he’d left a wound that wouldn’t heal. When he burst through the door, beneath all the anger, it felt like breathing for the first time. Feeling for the first time. He belonged here and you belonged with him.

Then why did he leave?

“Shawn,” his head snapped up, eyes wide, “why are you here?” He grimaced, hearing the pain in your voice. He seemed to be sobering, the bright rosy color in his cheeks was returning to a muted pink. Reaching up to scrub at his damp curls, he cleared his throat.

“I….” his voice was hoarse, “I’m not sure.” You walked over to his pile of wet clothes and tossed them in the washer, keeping silent while he watched you, waiting for a reaction. Or an explosion. The only sounds in the room were the machine filling with water and your padded footsteps back to a safe distance from him. The rain had stopped.

“Well, you’re naked in my living room so you better start fucking figuring it out!” You threw the anchor printed boxers squarely at his chest as the rage came simmering back.

“I missed you, okay?!” He threw his arms wide, sputtering, “I, I was out drinking with the boys and got too drunk and was thinking about how happy I used to be and that happiness was all because of you…” He was looking at you but looking through you at the same time, like he could see all of those memories you’d been dreaming of, like maybe he’d dreamt them too. You shook your head. It didn’t make any sense. He was happy with her. He left you for her. He’s supposed to be with her.

“Don’t lie, I saw the fucking photos, Shawn. Don’t act like I don’t know that smile as well I know my own. You looked pretty fucking pleased with yourself,” you hissed. Images flashed across the back of your eyelids like a slide projector with every swift blink away from his face: her long dark hair fluttering behind her as they walked back to his hotel; his curls fluffed out in weird directions like her fingers had run through them in the car; that fucking bag strapped to his back like the perfect boyfriend. It was the last photo that always sent a wave of nausea, the one of him hanging over the balcony half naked. Whether they’d fucked or not was a moot point, that’s what they wanted people to think. What he wanted me to think.

“You could have picked up the goddamn phone and broken up with me like a civilized person,” you scolded, still unable to look at him.

“IT WASN’T REAL!” He bent over with the force of his confession.

Your head shot up. What?

“What??” A weightless feeling came over you. Looking down, you had to check that your feet were still on the ground. It didn’t make sense. You must have heard him wrong.

“I-I don’t understand,” you stuttered, “I saw it, all of it.”

“Didn’t you read my texts?” He sounded like he was under three feet of water. Your ears were ringing. “I called so many times...I just thought you needed time to get over me not telling you before the pictures leaked but you never called back. None of your friends would answer my messages...” You covered your ears and closed your eyes to block out the sensory overload even though he was still talking. No, no, no. He got caught cheating and he’s trying to backtrack.

But you had heard the rumors, the gossip rags had all printed it. The doubt, the convenience of the timing...but you’d blocked it out because it was too easy to believe and too painful to hope.

Two hands gripped your upper arms and your eyes flew open.

He was right in front of you. Less than three inches. His eyes were so dark, still dilated from the alcohol coursing through his system. He’d put on the boxers you’d thrown at him and ditched the towel. It was everything you had to not pitch forward into his warm chest.

“It was Andrew’s idea.” He hooked a finger underneath your chin and made sure you were looking at him. “There was a meeting, her people, my people, they ambushed me. Said it would be a good idea to promote the single, push my image, deal with the old rumors. I told him I didn’t give a fuck about that old shit but they just kept coming and coming and coming, something about helping her with her album and placating executives who kept asking questions, so I said yes but I fucking told them I had to have notice before they dropped the pictures so I could tell you…” He swiped his thumbs across your cheeks, smearing the wet tears that had fallen while he talked.

“They didn’t wait,” he sighed, “Andrew sold them without telling me. I tried to tell you. All those calls, all those texts, I promise I didn’t want you to be blindsided.”

“But I fucking was, Shawn,” you stepped back and took a deep breath. “You had opportunities to call right after the meeting, before they took the pictures, but you waited. Why? Why did you wait for other people to break my fucking heart?”

“I was an idiot!” he raked his fingers through his knotted, dried curls. “I thought somehow that if I was able to control everything that no one could get hurt. I would tell you, we would keep doing us and I would have things I had to do in front of cameras but it wouldn’t mean anything. We would work on a plan to go public together after it was done. A few months at the most.”

“A few months?! What were we gonna do for months in hiding?! How many times were you going to hurt me, fulfilling some bullshit contractual obligation that you didn’t even discuss with me first?” You stumbled back to your room and he followed. You had to sit down or you were going to be sick. He followed behind, his giant feet sticking to the hardwoods with every step.

At first, the truth had felt like another dream, had made you weightless, but the more you thought about it, maybe this was worse. The idea of seeing him holding someone else’s hand for cameras while he came home to you at night was like a slap in the face.

“I wasn’t going to let them release the pictures before I talked to you first, before I knew it was okay,” he knelt down in front of you, taking your hands between his, “I never wanted to hurt you. Andrew did it anyway. When you wouldn’t return my calls, I just went along with it, all of it, like a zombie shell.” He looked past you, seeing the months you’d been apart. He was haunted too.

“The fans started to notice. Half of them thought it was fake from the beginning, but after awhile they all saw the dark circles, the exhaustion of keeping up the facade. I started losing weight. It was all there for the world to see. I thought about you everyday. I think about you everyday.” He pressed his forehead into your entwined hands. His shoulders shook. It took you a minute to realize that he was crying.

You took your hands from him, dragging your fingers through his curls, full and frizzed out from root to tip. You let him cry for the both of you, for the lost time, for the unfairness of the business he loved so much, for the deception, for all of it. Slowly, his breath evened against the skin of your exposed legs. He needed to sleep. So did you.

“Shawn…” you started, pulling his head up between your hands.

“I fired Andrew.”

You stilled completely, “you what?”

“I fired Andrew.” He said it a second time but it still wasn’t computing. Andrew was family. Andrew was untouchable. Andrew was the one person in Shawn’s life not related by blood that you thought might make it into the family burial plot.

“But, why?” you said, unable to think of anything else eloquent or comforting.

“The last eight months have been some of the worst in my career, in my life,” he took a moment, closing his eyes, calculating what he was about to say. “Last week, I went to him and said I wanted to end the sham relationship, to take control of my life back. He said it wasn’t possible, that we only had a few more months left. But he’d said that before. We only had a few months left before he extended the deal to cover an album release, the holidays, promotional singles...

“I talked to a lawyer. I had to pay a considerable amount of money to get out of all of it, but I’m done. Done with the PR bullshit, done with AGA. The label is still supporting me while I look for new management, but I’m taking a break. I’ve been writing at home, making voice memos, but I gotta figure out what my life looks like when I’m in control because I haven’t been in control for years. Maybe not ever.”

He took a breath and released it, his shoulders visibly relaxing. That was it, the whole truth. Everything made a lot more sense. It didn’t hurt any less, but the broken pain in his eyes when he’d fallen in the door an hour ago was clear. He was independent for the first time in his adult life...and he was terrified.

He yawned. His body was more leaning than kneeling at this point, and your legs were going numb. You moved to stand and he looked up at you, wondering what to do now that he’d cut his heart out and laid it at your feet.

“Come on,” you gestured to the bed, “get on your side.”

You took off your robe and crawled underneath the covers, still rumpled from your earlier dream. There was about three feet between you and Shawn in the king-size bed and you could tell he was trying to keep his distance, turning his back to you and isolating himself to one side. It was a struggle to keep from snorting. You scooted over and curled your arms around his chest. He was massive, but not so massive that you couldn’t be his big spoon.

The night had been such a rollercoaster, so much emotion from the earlier dream to everything that had happened since he pounded on the door, drunk and soaked through. There was so much you wanted to ask, so much you needed to yell at him for, but now that it was quiet, not that he was pressed against you in an embrace like he’d never left, those things felt so far away. You were going to have to think hard when the sun came up. What if I wake up and this was all a dream? You squeezed him one more time to make sure he was still there, tangling your legs with his under the sheets.

“This isn’t forgiveness,” you whispered, relishing the heat that radiated from his back into your chest. He hummed an assent, knowing there was still so much to say and so much to atone for. But for now, just right now, you both slept.

It was the best night of sleep you’d had in months.

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @mendesromano @fromthicctosticc @esoltis280 @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft @luvluvxx @i-play-video-games @ihearthemcallingforyou @gentleshawn @kitykatnumber @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @ijustreallylikeshawnokay @shhhawnmendes @shawnsblue @imaginashawnns @night-girls-world @cherrysruin @mariahocker @jessybellsworld @myangelarcade @valedictorian65

let me know if you want to be added/taken off...I know shawnblr is a different world since the last time I posted anything ❤️

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing

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waka-chan-out · 3 years

Note

Hiya Meg, I wanna come hide from the rest of the world in your inbox for a minute.

I’ve been feeling a little down lately. But I’ve got all the tools I need to get through everything that life throws at me. So I’ll be okay. Just a little sad rn :/

I haven’t been on tumblr on much tbh. Busy with my new job. I started at a barber shop. It’s intimidating and different than a salon, but I’m getting the hang of it.

I haven’t been watching much anime lately, always simping over Tsumu tho. Ive been into playing mystic messenger. I am so in love with 707 it’s not even funny. Also I just started watching Supernatural for the first time and I’m enjoying it. I love Sam and Dean.

Fanfiction is one of the big things that keep me sane nowadays tbh. Idk if it’s a healthy coping skill, but it takes me away from me troubles a little bit 😅

I don’t feel like I connect with a lot of people on here, even though I try. You make going on this godforsaken website bearable sometimes. I hope you don’t forget about me 🥺 You’re so sweet and I appreciate you responding to my annoying ass all of the time.

Ilysm ~Brittany 🖤

BRITTANY BABY I LOVE YOU !!

i hope you know how much i appreciate you. it’s so lovely to have people that consistently interact with me not just because you read my content but because we’re bros, ya know? i really enjoy being able to chat with you and you’re always tagging me in stuff or sending me ideas that are just great. you’re so fun and kind and i want you to know it never goes unappreciated.

i hope your job continues going well. i’m sure you’re doing great and it makes me excited getting to hear about you working someplace new. i’ve never played mystic messenger but i’ve seen supernatural. or at least what i consider the good part of it? idk i’ve got a lot of opinions about that show even if i haven’t seen every season (which i think is reason because there are a million of them !!) whenever i’m in a content consuming slump i always end up watching the dubs of monthly girl’s nozaki-kun and season one of saiki k. they’re nice “turn off your brain and enjoy the fun characters” shows. plus i love the voice actors. that’s a very important factor for me 😅 otherwise i rewatch my favorite episodes of jojo’s bizarre adventure or the movie rocketman. it’s my favorite and i have to watch it like every couple of months to maintain my mental health.

honestly i think if it keeps you sane and happy that’s good enough. writing fanfic might not be the most productive use of my time but it keeps me writing and thinking about characterization and how to craft an interesting scene so i say that’s good enough for me. and honestly what’s the difference between getting absorbed in fanfiction and normal reading? it’s just with more familiar characters. idk how other people view that but that’s my hot take.

you never get forgotten brittany !! i promise. it’s hard to forget the people i really connect with on here. y’all make me extremely happy and i’m very glad i’ve gotten to interact with and meet all of you that talk to me frequently on here. you never annoy me and and you never go unnoticed or unappreciated. ily baby please never think otherwise 💞

#every message i get from you makes me so happy !!#i love talking to you #i would hate for you to ever assume differently #🐈‍⬛..brittany #meg’s messages 📫

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littlemisslol-fic · 4 years

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Okay, So.

To get it out of the way, I’m going on hiatus. I don’t know when I’ll be back, maybe soon, maybe in a month, idk, depends on what’s up. I’ll keep it short and sweet, some not-so-kosher shit went down with someone who used to be a fan of mine, and it quickly turned into some pretty bitter, ugly stuff from them, and in general it kinda messed with me pretty badly. Won’t get into the gritty details, but let’s just say it was nasty and (at least in my opinion) pretty uncalled for seeing as I’ve never spoken to them one on one, only in passing on discord. I’m also fairly sure that personal DMs between myself and another third party were shared without my consent, meaning that third party deliberately came to interrogate me in my DMs on discord with the intent of trapping me into saying something that could be taken out of context for… the lulz? Idk why to be honest, but crazy is as crazy does.

Long story short a lot of the joy is long gone after that lol. I’ve been trying to push myself through the slump with brute force, because that’s what I usually do, but my word count’s dropped right into the toilet, and with the addition of going back to work full time... it’s just too much for me to keep up with.

But yeah TL;DR ya girl had about a two week long breakdown and that ain’t healthy, especially since (and I say this with all my love) I have more important stuff to deal with.

So FAQ:

Are you quitting the fandom? Nope. Gunna keep writing smaller projects probably, but for now I have to step back for my own health.

Is Kindling Discontinued? Also no. But I am taking a break for an… undetermined amount of time. Gunna lay off the fantasy epics until I feel a little more put together again.

Why are you letting it bug you? Because it was unprompted on my part. I wrote fanfiction, and that was enough for some asshole to attack me as a person. Y’all gotta understand that everything I put in my fics are things that I feel confident including, but ever since that... incident I’ve been feeling paranoid and unconfident in my content. And I’m sure that’s exactly what they want, which is why I tried to keep going despite them. But brute force will only go so far emotionally, and I straight up am not having a good time lmao

What About Cor Meum? You’d have to chain me to a radiator to get me to stop working on that particular fic. Kindling got the shelf because it’s the one I have full control over, and also Rowboats in general is kinda an unhappy place for me right now, because my lovely hater used a fan project they were making for Rowboats to make all their snide little comments towards me.

Why are you being so dramatic? Because I’m sad and hurt and my mom raised me to be a dramatic bitch, let me have this.

What next? Dunno, gunna vibe for a bit. Been writing some oneshot stuff but that’s more for funsies, but it’ll still be content. I want to finish Kindling, I promise, but for now it straight up is too much for me to deal with. When I come back to it it’ll probably be more of a “upload when I want” thing instead of the rigid upload schedule.

So, uh. Sorry all. I’m just a person trying to have fun here, but I know that a lot of you had high expectations of me, and I’m sorry I couldn’t meet them. I tried, and I've been running myself into the dirt trying to keep up- but something just isn’t working, and I can’t keep acting like I’m okay. So I need a break, and I feel that after six months of producing content I kind of deserve one.

I hope y’all understand.

#rant #I guess? Idk it's more information so I don't have to make a post on ao3 #either way #on haitus #see you... around #this blog still is gunna run #because it's just kind of my tangled fanblog atm anyways #so reblogs still happen #just don't expect any new content from me until I can compartmentalize someone hating me so much over a goddamn fanfiction #also #if you're hate reading this #delightful asshole #I hope you're fucking proud of yourself lmao

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tinycrow · 3 years

Text

Mama Fortuna

C-04: Moving Day, and A Human’s Best Friend

Note: I am not a scientist. I just googled some things and started writing. I’m going to take some artistic liberties here.

P.S.: Superman lied to us.

~*~

Explaining to movers what the hell your “coffee machine from hell” is, is a harrowing experience, let me tell you. It was necessary, though. There was no way I would be able to lift that thing by myself.

I think back to the making the machine, and the aftermath. Creating that machine took all the strength in me, as well as most of my kitchen appliances. It also scared the heck out of my children.

My eyes flutter open as I come to wakefulness on the ground. The first thing I see and hear are Sunshine and Ellie chittering, chirring, and beeping above me. Their bright green optics are trained on my face as they worriedly shake me. Seeing me awake, they stop making noise for a couple seconds before assaulting me with a barrage of “Mama” and “Ok?”

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m okay. I’m just really tired, so mama is going to bed early, okay?”

Sunshine jumps to my shoulder as I heave my tired body off the ground. Ellie grasps my pant leg asking to be picked up, which I do.

So, to catch you up, apparently my little stunt with the machine knocked out all power for not only my house, but the whole block. Eventually the problem was fixed by everyone resetting their breakers, but the “mysterious power outage” was raising questions.

I’m not sure if Samantha was ever a paranoid person, but I sure am. I need room to work, and this little house in the middle of a populated suburb in the city is not smart if I want to remain unnoticed. Thus, moving… and worrying. My babies are not used to foreign people in their home, or the idea of their safe space no longer being theirs.

I have a feeling we will be doing this a lot more, though. Imagine the kinds of people that would love to have their hands on me and my children. I shudder. No, I imagine we’ll be moving a lot.

Eventually the movers and I get into our moving trucks and head out.

We drive quite a way into the country side. I don’t really have the money or resources to move too far at a time, so we are moving to an old farmhouse that is a couple hours away from our first home. It’s a half hour’s drive from the nearest town, so we should be good for experimenting. Samantha, apparently, has savings built up over the years, but it would be too easy to squander. Considering I do not have a job and don’t know whether I would be getting one anytime soon, I have to take into account the cost of food and rent.

~*~

“Thank you so much. Safe trip back, yeah?”

“Will do. Have a good evening.”

“Have a good evening.”

The movers leave, and I don’t stop watching until they’re long gone out of sight. I let out a relieved sigh, and head back indoors. The ‘coffee machine’ as I have been calling it could have been brought indoors (if barely), but after sparing a thought of the potential danger it posed, it went into the garage. By now, it has been 2 and a half hours since we left, and I was already tired.

I wanted to make sure we had some place to sleep tonight, at the very least, so that meant reassembling the metal structure that was my berth.

Bed. I mean bed. I shake my head at the mistake. Wow, I must be really tired.

~*~

Later that evening, I’m tucking my children into bed. I know they’ve been having trouble with the move. All throughout setting up the bed, they wouldn’t leave my side, not even when I suggested they watch some videos on the internet! They love YouTube.

It makes me sad that the new environment just didn’t feel ‘safe’ to them. I would have to find out a way to make them feel safer. Maybe talking with them about how to deal with strangers would be a start. I could also see if I could set up some kind of security system. It would be a bit hard when we keep moving, but it would be worth the time.

Giving my little ‘spider’ a kiss, I giggle at the soft chittering they respond with. Cute.

“Rest, Sunshine. You’re safe.”

Seeking comfort, Ellie reaches up from under the covers. I turn and gently hug them and give them a kiss as well.

“I’ll protect you, Ellie. You’re safe.”

I tuck them tightly under the electric blanket.

They prefer my body warmth, but being human, I tend to move in my sleep, and hog the blankets, so it’s better for them to cuddle under the warmer blanket instead.

~*~

I wake up the next day, have some instant coffee (my kettle survived the making of the last machine, thankfully) and prepare myself for the other coffee machine I have been unconsciously avoiding. It doesn’t look very impressive, quite scary really, but considering what it is meant to do… I have to face it sooner or later.

Last night’s dream showed me bits and pieces of what the mysterious ‘coffee’ should look like. I realized I would need a vessel that would not melt in contact with the liquid, or otherwise have them drink straight from the nozzle.

Unfortunately, I have no idea what kind of vessel that would be. The dreams and visions tend to not be very specific. I saw the ‘coffee’ in all sorts of forms in my dream: gas, crystal, raw energy, or liquid. Because of the nozzle on the machine, I assume it’ll come out as a liquid. Nursing my coffee, I mentally list the resources I have available to me:

Plastic. No.

Glass. No.

Aluminum. Probably not.

Unmolded, leftover steel… Unknown.

Well, to be honest, most of the machine is made of steel or the elements that make up steel. Iron, carbon… Steel has a higher melting point than aluminum, anyway. The problem with this idea, however, was that I would need to use my power to mold it.

Feeling my anxiety rise, I chug the rest of my shitty coffee. Just because I have it, doesn’t mean I like it. I think that applies well to my main problem, too. I sigh. I would try. I like the idea better than forcing an uncontrolled amount of liquid down my babies’ throats.

~*~

While searching the property, I find a bag of coal in a shed. I bring it to the garage.

~*~

Staring at my collection of metal and coal in a pile over the concrete, I start to have doubts.

I can do this, I reassure myself, steel thyself. Ha.

I put my hands over the pile and concentrate. Thinking back to how long it took to make the machine, I’m not prepared for the quick whirlwind of materials that leave me with a couple shiny tanks of some glassy material and steel, as well as a mush of unknown material that is both hardening and oozing beside them. Ugh. That doesn’t look safe… Wait, is that shiny stuff…

I lean forward to take a closer look, gaping widely.

I was expecting something shoddy, considering how fast it formed… But this, this…

I would never expect that I could make diamond! For example, coal has carbon in it, but it also has a lot of other elements, as well as organic material. I think it’s too impure to simply add pressure and form diamond.

It used all the coal I brought to the garage, but the tanks have a thin layer of diamond reinforcing the inside of the steel tanks. Now, the tanks themselves aren’t very big… but neither are my babies. So maybe it’ll be alright.

Grabbing the newly created vessels, I spare a thought for the oozing mess beside me. Feeling a little more confident in my abilities, I focus on burying the mess. Tapping the ground with my foot, I watch as the ground ripples like water and swallows the mess whole.

… I’m sure it’ll be fine. Probably.

~*~

Feeding my children takes a bit of experimenting, but I figure out where the battery is, and how to charge it. Simply placing my hand where the ‘battery’ is and focusing is enough to charge it. I stop charging as soon as I notice the machine running; it seems there’s no on-off switch.

I take out the mask and thick gloves. Better safe than sorry.

Taking a breath, I fill up the tanks. The liquid itself isn’t… quite how I remember from the dream, but it’s close enough that I can quiet the doubt circling in my mind. Maybe it’s not as pure as the ‘coffee’ in my dream, but I pray that it’s enough. It has to be for my children.

After talking with them, I decide to give a tiny amount to Sunshine as a test. We’ll give it a day and see what effects it has.

~*~

The next day, Sunshine is a bit more chatty than usual. They run us ragged as they bounce around the room on their multiple legs. In contrast, I notice Ellie becoming more sluggish, and frown in worry. Ellie has never slumped like that after a play session… I don’t think I have any real choice anymore.

Worried about the impurity of the ‘coffee’, I feed small amounts to both Sunshine and Ellie over the next few days, until they seem to be at good health.

~*~

I can make diamond, I will realize many days later, and all the implications that it brings.

#my fanfiction #mama fortuna #greyscales #transformers

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