#because the idea of that makes me feel so isolated and depressed

[catfishofoldin99colours]

something i think i should/could bring up with my therapist so im putting it down here to get the thoughts out now

it’s. incredibly frustrating actually that i can’t organise any part of my life. my ‘organisation’ revolves around categorising and storing my possessions in places that at the time of storing, make sense to keep. but over time, because i don’t engage with those spaces a lot, i forget things are there or the things there go old and aren’t usable anymore (lots of art supplies, food, etc.) and i am back to square one when i come back to them, except this time square one is also covered in dust.

i feel like a solution to this would be to use these possessions and spaces consistently, but... thats the thing, i can’t and i don’t use things consistently. i never have, probably never will, because that requires energy to self-discipline and i have absolutely neither.

this is why ‘adhd tips’ that are literally just ‘oh get a journal/planner/app/corkboard/calender/anything and just organise it so it works for you’ are Utterly Useless because PLANNED ORGANISATION DOESN’T WORK WITH ME. it’s not that i can’t organise stuff or events, or that i can’t plan stuff or events; i can do both! very effectively!! but only ever in the short term.

it’s really frustrating that this is something that affects my entire life. combinations of time blindness, only focusing on the now, impulsivity, unbridled emotions and probably every other adhd trait under the sun means my life is chaos even when its relatively calm. it’s probably why i had such a hard time last year, because the extraneous circumstances around my life were just as chaotic, if not more so, than my internal circumstances, and the chaos was too much for me to bear and manage, and i quickly became exhausted. and what do i do when im exhausted? i hide, and sleep, and turn away from the world because there’s just too much going on and i can’t face it.

damn. i was conflicted about whether to stay in this city or leave, but looking back on everything now... i think i really need quiet and stability to try and return to some sense of normal, or at least a sense i am familiar with and can work with to be ok again.

sigh.

[grymmdark]

my sister just dropped a whole rant on how she's not gonna vote in the next election and how everything is fucked politically etc. and it was all so depressing and nihilistic i just dont know how to respond. like yeah that stuff sucks i agree but giving up isn't gonna make it suck less.

she went on about how if the republicans do win that'd somehow make the democrats actually get their shit together when in reality it wouldn't cus it'd only make them look better without having to put the actual work in.

and yeah unfortunately the Democrats know that people will vote blue no matter who and so can get away with shitty and mediocre candidates, but part of the issue is that the democrats have so little power that people dont get to be picky. if people didn't have to scramble for whatever democratic candidate to attempt to stop republicans, and instead we could be more confident that a democrat would get elected then they could get to be picky.

[medicinemane]

Seriously, it would be a mercy to kill me. I'm begging for help dying. Do you not see why it's fucking torture to keep my alive while living with her? I'll never escape her, like there's just no practical way to make it happen

And yet, till I get my act together and find a way to die already, show must go on

[pseudowho]

Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.

Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here

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Before he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who meanders, severely burned, skin still on fire with agony, with blurred vision to another atrium, thronging with transfigured humans.

AU!Nanami Kento who fights until the end, embracing his death, until Yuuji arrives at the eleventh hour.

AU!Nanami Kento who, despite being healed by Shoko, faces a grisly recovery, forever physically and psychologically scarred by the events of Shibuya.

AU!Nanami Kento who drinks more heavily than ever, trying to scare away the nightmares; waking up in cold sweats, burning alive and screaming.

AU!Nanami Kento who turns viciously on the hierarchy of Jujutsu High, blaming them for sending their staff and students to Shibuya like lambs to the slaughter.

AU!Nanami Kento who hands his notice in shortly after Shibuya; bitterly recognising the monsters of the world in the various forms, wishing to hunt freely without being at the beck and call of Jujutsu High.

AU!Nanami Kento, who embraces the vigilante life, still saving privately earned money for his early retirement.

AU!Nanami Kento with bruises on his thighs, cuts on his hands, because his depth perception fails him in day-to-day activities now .

AU!Nanami Kento who took up the cold-baths-in-your-clothes idea from Higuruma Hiromi, because his burns still prickle so tenderly even after being healed.

AU!Nanami Kento who looks in the mirror once a day and once only, disgusted by what he sees.

AU!Nanami Kento who is still on speed-dial for every student and every assistant at Jujutsu High, who begrudge him nothing, and still love him dearly.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't even need to use his Cursed energy to hunt down rapists, murderers and abusers.

AU!Nanami Kento who is informed by Ijichi of the goings-on in the school; where students are sent and when, if anyone is being sent to re-recruit him...which is how he learns you are being sent for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who throws himself into work, isolating himself from the world, bitter and jaded and so desperately lonely.

After he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who seduces you when you hunt him down, sensing a kindred spirit, and someone to keep him company even if just for one night.

AU!Nanami Kento who is surprised to wake to see you still there, soft, naked, and pressed against him.

AU!Nanami Kento who almost cries when you press soft kisses over his eye patch, not disgusted, not afraid.

AU!Nanami Kento who treats you like a queen, throwing his whole heart and soul into romancing you, never hesitating in his choice.

AU!Nanami Kento who eventually stops covering himself up at home, exiting the bathroom in just a towel, no eye patch, his good eye smiling softly at you, curled in his shirt on his sofa.

AU!Nanami Kento who re-embraces the music from his teenage years, insisting you listen to MCR, Tool, and Fall out Boy while you cook together, singing along badly, flour everywhere.

AU!Nanami Kento who, the first time he had a vicious nightmare with you in his bed, was ashamed and took himself alone out of the house for a walk in the dead of night.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't make it to the door alone the second time; your hand winds in his and you wrap a scarf gently around him, walking arm in arm through the orange glow of the streetlights until he feels calm enough to attempt sleep again.

AU!Nanami Kento who knew he loved you before; but now loves you obsessively, sweetly, deeply.

AU!Nanami Kento who gasps to life in the morning, feeling your warm mouth travel down his scarred abdomen below the covers, groaning in ecstasy as you take him into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair, relearning how to feel joy and pleasure.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer hides his face in your neck while he rolls his hips gently against yours, drinking in your facial expressions and soft sighs as he takes you to the edge again and again.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't let you go to any of your kills alone; he comes with you, protecting you at every turn, but refuses to split your payment with him.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't know you've perfected a minor reverse-cursed healing technique, and you use it to heal the eye patch sores on his face while he sleeps.

AU!Nanami Kento who introduces you to Yuuji; Yuuji smiles so widely with pure honest joy, and Kento feels his heart might burst with pride.

AU!Nanami Kento who only semi-ironically considers Nobara a member of the One-Eyed Club, like him. Nobara loves it. She has badges made. Kento has one under his lapel at all points.

AU!Nanami Kento who learns that you always carry aloe-vera gel and a spare eye patch when you go out together, and his heart clenches with appreciation for you.

AU!Nanami Kento who, in return, starts carrying around pads and hair ties for you, but won't carry an umbrella; he knows you always bring one, and you'll be forced to share the same umbrella.

AU!Nanami Kento who loves when you buy clothes for him, choosing good materials and long sleeves which won't irritate his scars.

AU!Nanami Kento who is so proud to walk out of the coffee shop with two coffees and pastries now, instead of the lonely one.

AU!Nanami Kento who falls asleep against you when you wash his hair and tight scars in the bath, and definitely falls asleep with his head in your lap while you massage aloe into his burns.

AU!Nanami Kento who sees kids staring at his eye patch; he kneels down and quietly tells them that he's a pirate, but the good kind.

AU!Nanami Kento who suffers dreadful depression and flashbacks as Halloween approaches the first year you're together; by the second year, he agrees to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera and Christine together.

AU!Nanami Kento who has dinner with Ijichi, Ino, Higuruma and Kusakabe often.

AU!Nanami Kento, who knows Ijichi will always make a Jujutsu High car available for him, even though he's no longer employed by them. Ijichi, who always has Nanami Kento's back, and would fight anyone to the death for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer sees himself as defined by his trauma, but instead as defined by the love you give him, and he gives you in return.

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Sigh. I adore Greynami.

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

@silkspunweb My smutty muse, and partner in crime, thank you ❤️

[frogdisco2021]

How much better would it have been if instead of saying "shut up emo nerd no one ever pushed you away, you imagined all the rejection" Will said something like "listen, those people are judgemental jerks, but there are people here who want to be your friend! *I* want to be your friend, if you'll let me! There are people here who would be happy to see you stay, myself included!"

Cause him saying that no one ever pushed Nico away is literally just not true, we see from other characters perspectives that they see Nico as weird and untrustworthy. He has no cabin to stay in before the Last Olympian and many people are disturbed by the sheer fact that a child of Hades is walking around. There's literally a scene where the seven, including Jason who later becomes one of Nico's closest friends after he begins to understand him better, debate on leaving him to suffocate to death alone in a jar. For real I don't know how it was seen as a good idea to make Will borderline gaslight Nico and have that be seen as like....tough love??? What Nico needed to hear???

Isn't a better explanation that Nico WAS rejected by some people at camp, but there were others (including Will) who tried to befriend him but Nico always thought they were just trying to mock him so he'd respond by being mean aka "pushing himself away"? That's a really common thing with kids who are bullied or feel rejected, if someone is suddenly nice to you, you don't trust it. You think they're just trying to get close to you so they can make fun of you.

It would be especially fitting since Nico along with all half-bloods have ADHD, the fact that ADHD also often comes with rejection sensitive dysphoria could've been leaned into. Nico WAS rejected, and because of that, any time someone would make a legitimate attempt at befriending him he'd push them away. That actually makes sense and validates the feelings of the most depressed and isolated character in the series instead of turning it into him just imagining the years of people acting like he has the plague.

[nataliasquote]

Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff

Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?

Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig

Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic

wc: 1.3k

notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷‍♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)

-⧗-

Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.

It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.

And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.

Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.

There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.

For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.

However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.

Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.

Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.

But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”

Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.

You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.

What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?

You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.

It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.

You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.

Everyone loved her.

Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.

A try hard in a room full of effortless people.

Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.

You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.

You wanted that so badly it hurt.

But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.

Maybe it’s for the best.

[borzoilover69]

Post-game John and Jake dynamic is really slept on. Jake meets John and hes like “ok this guy gets it” and in similiar terms Jake understands where John is coming from.

Both John and Jake share interest, signature bluntness and coping mechanisms (fucking off and TOOOTALLLY not dwelling on what makes them upset) and dont really share the concern that other members of their collective friendgroups might have with a friend of theirs just disappearing. They GET it so if they dont talk for a while who cares? Its like no time has passed at all when Jake texts John asking if he wants to watch a movie and John (who hasnt responded to anyone in two weeks) texts back “yeah sure.”

Postgame John and Jake friendship is EVERYTHING to me. John will listen to Jake rant and deliver an honest to goodness clearcut opinion, pulling him back from some of his wilder ideas and thoughts, while Jake pulls John out of the depression rut that John no doubt falls into post-game after everything catches up to him.

John NEEDS to be doing something postgame or otherwise he just dwells. Jake needs someone who will entertain some of his ideas without judgement, but the willingness to reel it in. They would bicker about movies and chat for hours about it because who else gives a fig as much about movies as these two.

John will listen to Jake rant about his friends without much fuss and give an honest input about it how he sees it in a way that doesnt make Jake feel threatened. I think thsts something Jake sort of needs, someone disconnected from his little chaotic friendgroup to talk to without feeling as significantly judged. In turn if John isnt really talking to anyone count on Jake to have the optimal timing to invite himself over for a movie night or get John to go on an outing for him or help him with something, getting him out of his shell. Even in his subtle ways lending John a platform to talk about issues he might be facing.

If theres anyone who can understand the need to isolate while you deal with your problems without judgement, its someone who does the exact same!! I see it very much as “we dont need to talk about it but i understand where youre coming from so 🤝And i think thats so awesome. Jake and John friendship postgame friendship is so real to me. See my vision boy.

[rosaline-black]

ᴀɴɢᴇʟ - ʀᴇᴍᴜꜱ ʟᴜᴘɪɴ

Summary: Remus had been left completely alone after the first war. After isolating himself for a few months he finally emerges from his cottage to get some groceries at the corner shop. He gets a lot more then bread however when he sets his eyes on you.

Pairing: Fem!reader X Remus Lupin

Everyone was gone. He was alone. Completely alone. He was being nipped by the bitter air as he left the house for the first time in months. He only left because he had to. The fridge was empty, he couldn't live off the tins of soup and packets of rice anymore.

January 1982 was probably a time for new beginnings for most, but for him it was just a reminder he'd been in isolation for over two months. The sun was out, it lit up his pasty unkept appearance which he couldn't care less about.

He tugged on the sleeves of his jumper before finally making a beeline for the corner shop at the end of the street. He just needed to get the bare minimum of groceries and then he could go back into solitude.

The bell rang and he shot into the shop, that blasted Duran Duran song was playing over the shops radio. Merlin how he didn't miss that. Filling it up quickly, his basket was soon packed with the cheapest of groceries, he couldn't retain a job for more then a number of weeks due to his condition so he was living off of the bare minimum.

Remus almost appreciated the muggle corner shop, no daily prophet to remind him of how everything was now apparently just fine. The wizarding world was moving on from the dark lord, leaving him behind. Leaving behind the young adults, no better yet kids who lost there lives fighting. To say he was bitter towards wizarding society would be an understatement.

He shook his head to free the toxic thoughts which would only induce an even deeper depressive spiral and walked to counter not even looking up as he put his basket out for whoever the clerk was.

"Did you want a bag?" Your soft voice called out. Remus's head shot up and his chest suddenly hurt at the site of you. You practically glowed in the sunlight which shon through the shop windows, your smile so pure and genuine he couldn't help his own lips twitching to mirror you.

"Yes please..." he searched for your name badge that sat right atop your chest "..y/n"

Remus indulged himself by gazing upon you. He hadn't been in the company of anyone for months, and you, well you were a beacon of light by just merely smiling. He'd let himself have this moment however brief it may be.

"And you are..." your voice rung out after sensing the mans eyes were on you.

Remus was completely taken aback. He expected you'd be disgusted by the mere sight of him, a clearly poor scruffy mess, but no. Yet again you exhibited such warmth and care by your expression, not an ounce of judgment or hatred ran through you.

"Remus.. my names Remus..." his voice was hoarse. He wasn't used to using it for anything other than sobbing or shouting. He could tell you noticed the strain and your smile morphed from normal to concerned.

"So mysterious Remus do you live local?" You asked lightening his mood. It was easy to tell this man carried a heavy burden, a burden of sadness and loss, it simply radiated from him. If there was anything you could do to make him feel at ease for a moment you would.

"Down the road yes... yourself?" He answered watching you scan each item slowly, like you actually wanted to chat with him. He thanked the heavens above that he was the only person in the shop.

"I live in the flat just above the shop... it was owned by my dad... but he passed away recently and left it to me... couldn't give it up..."

Remus smiled sympathetically, for some reason knowing someone else had lost someone made him feel less alone "so you work here alone?"

He watched as you nodded your head "It is a lot of work... but thank god this is the only local shop in the area otherwise I'd have to shut it..."

Remus suddenly got an idea, were you hiring? No he really shouldn't ask. You'd done enough by letting him stand in your presence, enquiring about a job would go completely over the line.

"Why are you looking for a job?" You asked and it was like you could read his mind "I mean I don't know why you'd want to work here but if you are I really need another clerk..."

Remus was in shock. You were truly his saving grace. It felt too good to be true, like he was taking advantage of you somehow. Your innocent kindness and general care felt too much, he felt unworthy.

After a lack of reply you realised how imprudent that must have sounded "Sorry.. you probably have things to do already... last thing you need his getting wrapped up in a run down corner shop..."

"NO.. I uh... well I would love the job I just don't want to burden you-"

"You could never be a burden Remus..." you smiled and he was convinced right then and there he would die. Die from his heart imploding on itself.

"Well when can you start?"

Months flew by and Remus was feeling more grounded with everyday he spent with you. Instead of pushing you away, he clung onto you like a life raft. The tea you'd share together and the occasional jokey conversations got him through.

He'd found out pretty early on that you were a squib. With full knowledge of wizards but never actually being able to cast a spell. It was a weight of his shoulders to be able to speak of magic freely, all though he held back most of the time as to not boast that he could do magic.

You didn't seem to care though. In fact when Remus would do the odd spell seeing your face light up would make his whole day complete.

He could say there was no doubt that he was in love with you. It annoyed him that his own heart was so feeble he'd fall for someone so pure and gentle, he couldn't let himself taint you with the sorrow he dragged around everywhere.

He'd also hidden his condition from you. He knew how kind you were and the minute you knew of what he went through you'd try to help, he couldn't risk that.

It was the 10th of March, Remus entered the shop and what he saw nearly brought him to his knees. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" You shouted still trying to light the candles that sat a top the cake in your hands with a crappy lighter that hardly worked.

"Y/n why... you didn't need to do anything..."

"Yes I did... because otherwise no one else would and that simply won't do..." you fussed placing the cake down and engulfing him in a hug. Remus took no time in hugging back, his heart to weak to refuse himself your embrace, your intoxicating scent and most importantly your warmth.

But he soon sobered up to the fact that no way could he have you. He couldn't allow himself to blemish your life, so after a few seconds he pulled away quite harshly his face rough and angry.

"A-are you okay remus?" You asked, eyes swimming with concern.

"Yes just... stop being so..." he struggled to find the words, his eyes trained to the ground.

"So what? Should I make some tea? I'm sure that will calm you down and-"

"THAT! Stop being so fucking nice! Normal people aren't that nice... they don't help strangers and make them cakes... give them jobs..." Remus shouted causing you to physically flinch at the volume.

Look what he'd done now. Remus saw you cower away from him and it only reaffirmed that he was a monster. A monster undeserving of your care and maybe even love.

"Sorry.. I just.. I'll go...-"

Before he could run off, you grabbed his forearm with complete desperation "Don't go Remus... please..."

"You can't... I taint you y/n..." Remus muttered meeting your eyes.

"Taint me? What are you talking about..." you shook your head, completely at a loss.

And from there Remus broke down in-front of you. He explained what happened to his friends, how he was left completely alone and how much of burden that's played on his well-being. He eluded to having some kind of condition which truthfully you'd guessed a long time ago.

Him getting regular sicknesses at the same time, the scars and his grouchy attitude around the full moon. It was obvious to you.

"Remus I know... I know about your lyncathropy..." you stated simply, a comforting smile still playing on your lips

"What? No.. I... well then why do you still associate with me... my kind aren't safe to be around y/n... I could hurt you..."

You shook your head and made him look into your eyes "Remus... I couldn't give less of a shit.." you laughed at his eyes widening once you cursed "you've had so much loss and tragedy can't you just let me be there for you? Let me help you through this..."

And in that moment Remus was weak. He gave in, burying his head in your neck as he sobbed his heart out, everything he'd held in over the past months fell out and it felt nice. It felt nice to be held and to be listened to, despite what he was. He felt safe in your arms.

From that day on you did everything to prove to Remus that his condition wasn't going to scare you away, that you were prepared to be there for him throughout everything. So every morning after the full moon you'd close the shop and dress his wounds, cook him meals and make sure he looked after himself. And every full moon Remus was convinced you were his guardian angel, coaxing him slowly from his suffering.

The feelings both of you harboured were quite apparent, and it was one summer evening where your relationship changed. You were simply closing up the shop and Remus just couldn't take his eyes off of you. It was ironic you were a squib but he was convinced you had bewitched him.

He knew right then that he needed to hold you, kiss you, be one with you. The friendship wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to call you his.

"y/n are you dating anyone..." he called out after replenishing the last shelf.

You were taken aback by this question. Of course you weren't dating anyone, you'd fallen hopelessly in love with the rugged stranger that stumbled into your shop many months ago. No one could replace him in your heart.

"No... why are you?" You asked crossing every part of your body in the hopes that he hadn't started seeing someone. Surely he'd tell you right? I mean you practically spent every day in each other's company as it what.

"No I'm not.. there is someone I like though.. just not quite sure I deserve her..." He stated watching steadily for your reaction.

You sighed inaudibly, who the bloody hell could it be? But instead of trying to appear upset you did what you did best and smiled, he deserved happiness and so be it if that doesn't involve you "I'm sure she'd be lucky to have you rem..."

Remus chucked. For someone who was such an incredible listener you truly were oblivious "aren't you interested in knowing who it is?"

"Of course... go ahead.." you mumbled not hearing his footsteps approaching you from behind.

As gently as possible Remus tilted your head around to face him, caressing your cheek with the upmost care, you were a work of art in his eyes and needed to be treated as though you could break at any moment "It's you of course..."

The wide smile you gave him made Remus melt into a puddle, and as your lips connected for the first time a very old feeling returned for him. Comfort. You were his angel that granted him comfort again, something he feared he'd never have the pleasure of knowing.

[flight0fthenavigat0r]

A Goodbye to The Bad Batch

I don’t even know what to say first. Because this is goodbye, but it is also everything but. But I suppose I should start at the beginning.

Just a couple of years ago I found my love for Star Wars. My entire life, as far back as I can remember, my dad has tried to get me into the fandom. Now, he’s not a fan the exact same way some of us are, he’d only watched the saga and the Mandalorian, funnily enough I was the one to introduce him to The Clone Wars and beyond, but it’s been a joy in his life for a very long time. I was never interested in it when I was little, but then I got a little older and Star Wars started to capture my interest.

One random weekend, I believe in 2021 or 2022, I decided that I was going to watch all nine saga movies in those forty-eight hours, and then start on my goal to watch every show and the additional movies.

This is, without a shred of doubt, one of the greatest decisions I have ever made, and one that I will never regret. I would not be the person I am had I not given Star Wars a chance.

It would sound ridiculous to anyone anywhere else, but this has become such a safe place for me that I know I can be honest.

Everyone finds that one thing that makes them happy like nothing else. A person, a hobby, a place, a fandom. Mine is the galaxy far, far away that lets me escape from my life whenever I need to.

The Star Wars fandom has its faults, and there is so much hatred.

But more than anything, there is love like no love I have ever experienced before. The love between fans and our love for these movies and shows is something I never expected to have in my life. But somehow, for some reason, it has all found a permanent place in my heart, and I couldn’t be happier.

At this time, the first season of The Bad Batch had just been released. I was branching out, watching The Clone Wars and then jumping to The Book of Boba Fett, though I’m not sure why I chose to watch everything in such a completely random order.

But then I started The Bad Batch.

I had no idea what Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, Echo, and Omega would come to mean to me.

I have dealt with a lot in the last few years. Nothing compared to others, but depression finds a way to wedge into your life. I love to be alone, but I don’t like to be lonely, and I have managed to isolate myself to a point of misery.

I found more comfort in The Bad Batch than anything else in my life, and I will never forget the joy The Bad Batch brought me in these last few years.

I began to write when I found Star Wars, and I was inspired to do so by The Bad Batch. Before, I had never felt so compelled by any one piece of media to add my own part of it to the world, until this. Writing has become another escape, one that gives me an outlet to continue the stories of characters left behind.

What I already knew has been reaffirmed, the lessons I have learned remain with me, and will even after this is over.

That it’s okay to feel afraid, because everyone does, and to make mistakes, provided you learn from them.

That feeling out of place for one reason or another does not make you unworthy of love, and having limitations with affection isn’t something you need to apologize for.

That being goofy, having fun, finding joy in the dark places, is just as vital a part of life as anything else, if not what we need more than anything.

That taking time for yourself, to make sure you don’t fall apart, even while taking care of others, is important.

That our worst moments can be one of two things, what consumes us, or what we grow from.

That being a young woman is not a detriment to your worth, intelligence, talent, or any other aspect of life, but is in fact what makes you strongest.

That what makes us unique and our faults are a part of who we are, but they do not define us, and we are so much more than the ideas people have of us.

My only regret is not making friends when I had the chance. I’m bad at that, opening up and putting myself out there, and I shy away from talking to new people because it makes me uncomfortable. But I wish I had been able to put that aside before it was too late and found people who love The Bad Batch the way I do to continue talking to, even after the show ends.

But to all the people who have supported me and who I have supported, thank you for being part of my Bad Batch experience.

It's very difficult to believe that this is it.

Though The Bad Batch has not been around long, it feels like it has, because as long as I have been watching Star Wars, The Bad Batch has been in its active run, and I’m so grateful I got to be here when it was.

I know that even when the credits roll for the final time, when the greater fandom forgets the show that they never really understood the way we have, I’ll be here, and hopefully, so will all of you. I think that the family brought together by The Bad Batch will endure, even if we go quiet for a while.

We’ll stick around, for the day the Batch comes back. Because I know they will.

Thank you Clone Force 99, the Bad Batch fandom, Dee Bradley Baker, Michelle Ang, the Kiners, and everybody who played a part in telling this story.

The impact The Bad Batch has had on my life has been profound, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything. It’s been a wild ride, and I have enjoyed every second of it. It has been a privilege to be a part of this piece in the ever growing history that makes up Star Wars.

Goodbye, Bad Batch. Until next time.

“Change takes getting used to. You’ll see. Just give it time.”

[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chapter 2 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!! //

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: depiction of a depressive episode, recreational drinking and bar scenes, allusion to oral (f. receiving), kissing, rough sex/man-handling, explicit penetrative sex, dirty talk, aftercare, didn't venture fully into writing dom!vernon but i have been informed i wrote something that might be in the realm of a dom drop, language obviously, reader is called a gendered slur by a stranger, law-breaking :), actual fluff for a second, allusions to drug use, car sex

wc: 6900

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

1 yr, 5 months ago

The onset of spring brought a lack of color. Grey clouds hung full and heavy, low over the city skyline. Grey crept into the corners of your apartment, darkening rooms during daytime so that you needed to keep lamps on even in midafternoon. Grey crept over your body, into your limbs. Days stretched and nights inched; you only got out of bed because you had to feed the damn cat.

That's part of why you'd gotten the cat in the first place, after a particularly long episode a few years ago, when Chan had presented you with a list of things he thought you should do to combat the blues, as he'd put it.

He meant well. But he always came at your depression like a problem solver, like just doing the right things could make it go away.

And sure, his suggestions were things that would help - get outside, call someone, don't isolate, shower even if you aren't leaving the house, drink some damn water - they weren't a cure. They were better reminders for when you were okay - good at keeping you okay for longer stretches. But when it was already too late, when the grey came, they all sounded fucking pointless. 

Anyway. The cat had been a good idea. 

is it bad?? 

Chan did his best. He was a good best friend. He just didn't understand it.

The answer to his question, you thought, as you flipped your phone over so you wouldn't see the notification if he followed up, was yes. Yes, this time was particularly bad. But you didn't have the energy to type those three words. 

Terrible friend, your brain accused, and it was right. 

You managed to drag yourself to work, to at least show up so you could continue to pay for your apartment and your damn cat, but not much else. You existed on cans of diet coke and microwave meals. You doom-scrolled until sunrise, then slept an hour or two at most before getting dressed for work. You left texts unanswered, the mail piled up. So did the dishes. 

Chan came by, once, did your dishes for you. It made you feel worse - useless and pitiable. You'd rather he just go away, but you held it in; you knew that would only hurt his feelings.

You learned from your mistakes, one thing that could be said in your favor. 

“Have you called your doctor?” he wanted to know.

What was the point? There wasn't a stop hating your life pill. 

“What if you tried painting?” he asked.

“What if you just let me be?” you countered, finally tripping over the line from embarrassed apathy to defensiveness. 

That pout again. “It might help,” he said. “Don't most famous artists do their best shit when they're down?”

“Get out,” you deadpanned. He dropped it, knowing this was a bigger issue, a bigger argument, than this current episode, a complex situation that went beyond the boundaries of your brain chemistry.

He put the last of your now-clean plates away. “Let's go somewhere,” he suggested.

“Chan,” you groaned. “I’m tired. I can't go gallivanting -”

“You're not tired, you're depressed,” he argued. “And going outside will help you.”

“I might have to kill you,” you said seriously, and he rolled his eyes. 

In the end, he let you win. He'd been around long enough to know that eventually you'd venture outside again, hit the bars with him again, text first again, laugh at his stupid memes again. It was just a waiting game. 

Still, when he left, you sat on the edge of your couch with your chin in your hands. On the living room rug, the cat rolled and showed you its belly. 

“Not you, too,” you groused. 

The cat did a few alligator rolls and then scampered into your bedroom and under the bed, as if chased. 

You sighed. You made your way to the spare room, which had been shut - to keep the cat out. To keep your ghosts in. 

Your easel was still set up in the corner. You were kind of surprised it wasn't covered in cobwebs. You'd been sketching just on paper last time you'd worked, trying to make decisions that way so you wouldn't waste a canvas, and it still sat there. 

You inched closer, ran your hands over your brushes. Took a step back, eyed the paper and your sketches. 

It was bad. Thank god you hadn't put it to canvas. 

You pulled the paper down, crumpled it in your hands. You chased the cat out with a gentle nudge of your foot, and closed the door again, keeping both cats and ghosts on their respective sides of the door.

There was no rhyme or reason to your brain, no map or calendar to follow for the starts or stops. But eventually, the clouds broke. The grey gave way to baby buds of green, yellows pushed through soil, determined to meet the sun.

You texted Chan - drinks??

He responded - about time!!!

You texted Vernon - hello, its me

When he didn't answer, you tried again - sorry for the radio silence. 

Still nothing. 

You checked his socials, saw that he'd been doing his thing - a smattering of selfies, some group shots with the guys he played music with sometimes, a few nature shots: the moon, once, and what looked like the river at night. 

The silence stretched. You gave up, considered it over. Grieved a little, because it had been good. 

You went out on a night that teased summer even though it was months away, sank into the familiar blur of too many shots - not enough to be a problem, but maybe enough to make problems. 

Under the club's ever-moving lights, you took a selfie, your drink and cleavage both showcased in the shot. 

Send it to Vernon, the urge to make trouble suggested, and you listened without hesitation.

And - finally - an answer.

come here after?? 

You smiled a tiny, victorious smile and knocked back the rest of your drink. 

omw.

Later, he gave you a rare and devastating pout as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothed fingers down the still-shaking inside of your thigh.

“What'd you make me wait so long for?” he complained, those sharp eyes sparkling with mirth. When you shrugged, still a little mindless from your high, he gave the same spot on your thigh a playful slap. “Don't do it again.”

1 yr, 4 months ago

busy tonight?

not busy but.

???

not in the best mood.

bet i could fix that.

yeah. idk.

why don't you let me try? 

“What's wrong?” you cooed, teasing, when Vernon let you into the apartment. 

He didn't smile, didn't play along, and it sobered you quickly. 

“Don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, crowding into your space. “Wasn't that big of a deal anyway.”

Just want the fix you promised, he thought. 

You moaned like liquid gold when his first kiss was a bite. Encouraged, Vernon gripped you by the shoulders, pushing you back against the wall hard enough that he heard your breath escape in a single huff. He hesitated, eyes searching your face; a question.

You lifted your chin, eyes shining with something hard. When he kissed you again, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him hiss; an answer.

His pace was frenzied from the start, your legs around his waist and the wall holding you up. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing, but sliding up to grip at your jaw instead, keeping you from tilting your head back, closing your eyes, losing yourself in how he felt slamming his hips flush against yours with dizzying smacks.

When you whined that you were close, he pulled you away from the wall and lowered you both to the ground, the wooden floor of his entryway cold and hard beneath your spine. It didn’t matter, didn’t do anything to stop the vortex tightening below your stomach. You slapped a hand over your face as it distorted in pleasure, Vernon kneeling between the legs you still had gripping his waist, one of his hands braced on the floor next to your head, holding his body over you.

“That’s right,” he breathed, gritted teeth flashing over you, forehead wrinkling as his own release closed in on the chase. “Just fucking take it when I fuck you into the floor.”

Then he was pulling out, breaths hissing through his teeth as he straightened up, one hand pumping himself furiously until strings of white decorated your stomach, cooling immediately in the apartment’s chilly air.

His breathing was ragged as he sagged back onto his heels, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him warily.

Then he stood and slipped into the hallway bathroom, the light clicking on and illuminating the unlit entryway where you’d just fucked. You heard the sink run, then shut back off, and Vernon returned. He knelt gingerly - you could see his knees were red from kneeling on the wooden floor - and cleaned your stomach first, then gently between your legs.

You sat the rest of the way up then, watching him carefully as he sat back on his heels again, avoiding your gaze. Something about the moment felt like a thing alive, unfurling between you like a casablanca lily under the refracted light of the moon.

You spoke at the same time.

“Vernon?”

“You okay?”

You swallowed, rubbed absently at your elbow where you’d smacked it on the floor during the position change.

“I’m fine,” you said tentatively. “Are you?”

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and then peering through his fingers at you for a second before dropping them again. “Thought I hurt you.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. I would have said something.”

He nodded, relief starting to bring feeling back to his hands again. He stood and reached a hand down for you. When you took it, he closed his fingers around yours and pulled you to your feet.

“I know we don’t usually do this,” you said, rubbing at the parts of you that had been on the floor - the backs of your legs, your ass, “but could I take a super fast shower before I go?”

“Yeah,” he said, so quickly that the word almost trips on itself. “Of course.”

He led you into the bathroom, rummaged in the disorganized linen closet for a clean towel, pressed it into your hands.

“If you need one, too,” you said easily, as he reached around you to turn the water on so it could heat up, “I don’t mind if you join me.”

He paused. “You sure?”

You shrugged, then leaned over to put your hand under the spray, testing to see if it was still cold. “It’s your shower.”

Under the stream of warm water, you turned to face him, front to front, looking up at him with clear eyes. Something in your expression was so open, Vernon couldn’t help but feel both the desire to step into the space you seemed to be offering him as well as the desire to get far, far away from it.

He’d been so angry before you’d texted, furious enough that he’d bruised his knuckles punching the doorframe; now, as the chemicals in his body settled down, he felt those knuckles throbbing. He was disgusted that he’d lost his temper, guilty that he’d taken any of that anger out on you, who had nothing to do with it.

He was scared of the desire he felt to be closer to you, just for tonight. Scared that fucking you hadn’t been enough to soothe whatever it was that roiled inside him, like it usually was. Scared that he felt like he needed more than sex to heal this particular burn.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and part of him thought he was apologizing in advance, like he knew already he’d run scared at some point. “For being so...”

He didn’t know what word fit best. 

“I told you,” you said, pressing a little closer, “I would have said if I had a problem.”

“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “If you’re sure.”

Then he reached over and brushed a thumb along your cheekbone, chasing away a rivulet of shower-water. You closed your eyes for a second, and he swore he could feel you lean into the touch, just slightly.

He didn’t know how to explain how he felt. Kind of like he’d done a hot-coal-walk; the exhaustion that came with an adrenaline crash, the vulnerability that came after facing down something big, that need - the burn inside him needing cool water before it could quiet down.

With the shower off, the silence in the bathroom was loud.

“Do you…” Vernon started, then stopped. His heart hammered, the adrenaline returning. He covered the moment by toweling his hair roughly and pulling his hands through the strands so they’d lay right. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? I was gonna order delivery, maybe watch something before I finish my assignment.”

He’d expected you to think about it, to turn it over in your mind the way you turn his things over in your careful hands, the way you turn him ass over head with just a smirk. Instead, you nodded right away.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was no big deal. Like you did this all the time. Maybe you did, just not with him. “I was starving, actually. I could stay for an hour or two.”

On his couch, the leftovers of the food scattered on his coffee table, you reached for his hand, ran a thumb imperceptibly along his purpled knuckles. You didn’t ask what happened, just brought them to your lips and pressed the lightest kiss before putting them down again and reaching for your noodles, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

That was when Vernon saw the potential of it, an entire picture, framed and labeled: you could hurt him so badly if he let you, if he let it get that far. For whatever it was that burned inside him, you were the cool water… but you could absolutely be gasoline, instead.

1 yr, 3 months ago

If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the light that passed over your closed lids in a repetitive pattern was the sweep of a lighthouse beam. You could pretend that the rumbling bass of the music was the roar of the ocean. You could pretend that you weren’t here, in a shitty bar, but at the seaside. You could pretend that you weren’t alone. You could pretend that you weren’t you.

You drained your drink and caught the bartender’s eye, gesturing for another, sliding the sweating glass away from you once you knew a new one was coming.

“What are you drinking?”

The voice came from your right, and you lifted tired, disinterested eyes to find the source of it.

“G and T,” you answered, because it was one fewer syllable than saying gin and tonic and maybe that one syllable would do the dirty work for you and tell this guy that you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Nice,” he said, like you’d said something interesting, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t return the question, just slid your phone screen on and opened your messages.

wyd

drinks at my hyungs place. wbu

damn. guess i have to settle for one of these very mid prospects at the willow

damn thats a sad story. if only you had a better option

if only my better option werent busy at his hyung’s

no one said i had to stay here. ur at the willow?

yep

The guy to your right tried again. “The DJ tonight kind of sucks, huh?”

You looked back at your phone.

don’t leave

You smiled into your drink, a thrill dancing through your bloodstream. The lights and music didn’t seem as garish as they had ten minutes ago.

“My boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up,” you said flatly to the guy who kept trying to talk to you, “so you might want to find someone else to complain about the DJ to.”

The word tasted like lemonade on your tongue - acidic and sour, sweet and refreshing, taste buds blooming and shriveling in tandem. Even the knowledge that it was a flat-out lie didn’t stop your heart from beating faster.

You expected the guy to get up and leave, maybe throw you a dirty look on his way. Instead, he seemed to call your bluff, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read you.

“I don’t think I’d let my girlfriend go out alone looking like this,” he said evenly, and you let out a derisive laugh.

“The fact that you just said the words let my girlfriend probably has a lot to do with why you’re here alone,” you countered, a flash of victory slicing up your spine when you saw his face flush.

Before he could retort, you hopped down from your barstool, pushing your way into the crowded dance floor. You didn’t even want to dance, you just wanted to get away. If Vernon wanted to find you, he could come find you. He’d told you not to leave, he hadn’t said make it easy for me.

He found you anyway; he made it look easy. He stepped around a group of guys talking in a circle and into your space, like he was following a path, like he knew there’d be room for him.

You were happy to see him. You were happy he came. You were happy to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne and hear your name tumble from his mouth like a statement. You were too drunk to tuck these truths away into pockets and folds where they would be harder to find.

You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. If he was surprised, his body hid it well. His hands came to rest on your lower back, pressing you closer to him as you leaned up to find his mouth.

You kissed him slowly, at odds with the frantic bassline vibrating under your feet. You let him tip your head back, changing the angle, sweeping your mouth with his tongue until you both tasted lemonade.

“Happy to see me?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face, one eyebrow arched in question and one half of his mouth twitching into a smile.

You didn’t have it in you to lie, so instead you said, “Your place?”

He led you outside.

As luck would have it, the idiot from the bar stood beside the front door, a cigarette between two fingers. His expression darkened when he recognized you, then further when he saw your fingers linked with Vernon’s as you stepped into the quiet night.

“Your girlfriend’s a fucking bitch,” the guy bit out, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it.

Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.

Evenly, he said, “She’s not -”

She’s not my girlfriend. You felt your stomach swoop, and you felt yourself flinch.

“- a bitch. She’s just smarter than you.”

Vernon tugged on your hand, leading you across the street to his parked, waiting car.

You tried to bite back a smile, and he looked sideways at you, his own lips twitching.

“What?” he demanded.

“What?” you parroted.

He scowled at you, but his lips were just smiling. “What?” he asked again.

You laughed. “Let’s go,” you said. “The bitch wants to kiss you more.”

You expected his smile to sharpen. Instead, something in it seems to soften, changing from teasing to actual affection.

“Alright,” he said, turning to start the engine. “Can’t really say no to that, can I?”

“You could,” you mused, as he pulled away from the curb and the bar slid into nothingness behind you, “but I just don’t think you should.”

1 yr, 2 months ago

wyd

melting

srsly

no, seriously. i am laying on my living room floor like a starfish trying not to turn into liquid

come to hyungs

its too hot to move

i have an idea, come meet me at hyungs

You frowned at your phone. Of course your aircon died during the only heatwave you could remember in your entire adult life. Your whole body felt sticky; you were pretty sure you were stuck to your floor.

It was too hot to move.

what’s the idea??

you’ll see. i’ll order u a car. can you bring a couple towels?

“Vernon, no,” you laughed, your voice echoing.

He shushed you through laughter, both of you leaning on each other as you stood at the edge of the yard, the grass tickling the bottoms of your bare feet. Upstairs, at his friend’s place, you’d thrown back a few shots for courage before following Vernon out here, and you were feeling them, your head swimming like your body might soon be.

“It’s a circuit, see?” he tried to explain, pointing through the night, as if you could see through all the fences and over all the hedges. “Five yards, five pools, and then we end up right back here and we get in the car and go. Just follow me, don’t stop for anything.”

“Someone’s gonna call the cops,” you complained. “And these neighborhoods all have cameras.”

“That’s why we keep moving,” he said, his grin so excited and so un-Vernon that you almost couldn’t bear to say no to him. “No one’s gonna call the cops if we’re already gone - it’s not worth it. You ready?”

You hesitated. “You’re good to drive us out of here?” you checked.

He held up his hands as if to show innocence. “Only had a beer,” he promised. “But I’ve got something fun in the car for after, if you want.”

You felt your grin turn wolfish. “Okay. I’m right behind you.”

“Try and be quiet,” he warned, then took off running across the yard, cannonballing into the pool with a splash.

You tore off after him, leaping into the water and suppressing a shriek when the cold water hit you. You felt instantly sober, jittery with adrenaline, alive with laughter. You spluttered your way to the surface and pushed water away from your eyes, trying to find him through the shadows.

He was already climbing out the other side, water running down his back, the muscle shifting in the half-light as he hoisted himself back onto the pool’s deck. You hurried across the pool, climbing up beside him, giggling wildly.

“Shhh,” he warned, but he was giggling too as he led you carefully over the fence to the next yard.

As soon as you crept close enough to the pool to jump, a motion-activated light came on, flooding the yard white and causing you to cover your eyes.

“Quick!” Vernon told you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in with him as he jumped.

You let out a stream of bubbles and water rushed into your mouth. You felt your feet hit the bottom and you pushed off hard, surfacing quickly.

Again, you followed him across the pool, both of you laughing and whispering, “Hurry! Quick!” as you climbed out and headed around the house to the front yard.

“Okay, this is the hard part,” he told you, both of you shivering as the night air caught up to you. “We have to cross the street, hop the fence, and then the pool is around back.”

“I’m ready,” you promised, with a particularly hard shiver.

You sprinted across the street, both leaving wet footprints on the pavement. His hand felt warm in yours when he helped you over the fence, warm on your body when he held your waist as you climbed down.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, but giggles still spilled out of you.

“More fun than melting, right?” he asked, and you thought that you’d seen him smile more tonight than in whole months of coming together at night.

You thought you might move mountains to see him smile like this again, gums showing, open and honest, happy.

Then you were underwater again, swimming hard to keep up, following Vernon through the night as he pushed his way through some hedges and held them apart for you.

You made it to the last house before someone caught you, slamming the back door open and shouting, “Hey!”

“Go, go, go!” Vernon cried, laughing with such abandon that it sounded like goose honks, pulling on your hand as you both stumbled, dripping, towards the car.

You’d set towels on the seats before starting, so you tumbled into the car and he peeled away, both of you laughing wildly as you left the neighborhood behind.

It was miles before you calmed down, gasping in breaths and trying to hold them before exploding into laughter again.

“I’d better not end up on the news,” you scolded. “I’m in my underwear.

He gave you a searing sideways look. “I noticed.”

You felt yourself warm again, despite being in soaking wet clothes.

“Where next?” you asked. “Home?”

He let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “I don’t really want to go home,” he admitted. Then, “I was having fun with you.”

You considered this. “Not to be a cliche, but… I know a place.”

The quarry was quiet, surrounded by only trees; without posted lights, everything seemed to be just varying shades of black - the black of the water just darker than the black of the stone ledges just darker than the walls of trees just darker than the sky sprinkled with stars above you.

“We have to be careful,” you warned him seriously. “If you slip and get hurt, it could be bad.”

He turned the flashlight on his phone on and set it next to the metal rungs that jutted out of the stone, a makeshift ladder for the swimmers who came here during the day, when swimming was allowed.

“It’s going to be way colder than the pools,” you added.

“You’re not selling this very well,” he pointed out.

“Don’t be a chicken,” you teased.

He eyed the water. “I’m having second thoughts.”

You nudged him in the ribs, which caused him to squirm away, hands batting at yours, a noise emitting from him that made you laugh out loud.

“Are you ticklish?” you demanded. “How did I not know?”

“Come on, are we jumping or what?” he asked, laughing, still trying to keep your sneaky hands away from his ribs.

“Yeah, that’s probably the only way to actually get in,” you admitted, still laughing a little. Your abs felt a little sore from how much you’d laughed tonight.

You stood on the edge of the stone, toes curling over the ledge, Vernon’s hand tight in yours. You stood on the edge, the ink-like water beneath you rippling slightly, marring the reflection of the constellations high above you. You stood on the edge of something, knowing full well you were afraid to swim.

He counted you down, and together, you jumped.

The water was freezing - it hurt, it stung, and you shrieked and laughed as you surfaced. A foot from you, Vernon was shouting.

“The towels!” you told him, already swimming towards the little dot of light that marked the ladder.

Shaking and shivering, you reached your towel, wrapping it around yourself. Behind you, Vernon jogged up, making noises like a disgruntled horse as he found his own towel.

“Oh my god,” he groused, grabbing for you. “I’m freezing, come here.”

He opened his arms, the towel behind him like a wingspan, and you stepped into the space, letting him wrap his arms and his towel around you. You stood shivering together, trying to let your body heat chase the cold away.

You wrapped your own arms around his middle, pressing yourself closer as your legs shook, shivers rolling up your spine in waves as your body fought the chill. 

“C’mere,” he murmured above you, holding you a little more tightly, his own teeth chattering. 

It was the first time, you realized as you turned your head to rest your cheek on his chest, that you’d held each other. It was the first time you’d been between his arms when you weren’t fucking, the first time he’d tightened his grip around you for a reason other than gratification. 

You didn’t want it - didn’t want to know that it felt nice in his embrace, didn’t want to know that it fit right and felt safe. You didn’t want to know that you liked it, didn’t want to have to fight against the humiliation of wanting more.

As soon as the full-body tremors died away in the warm, sticky night, you stepped away, eager to put distance between you again. 

Later, he looked over at you from the driver’s seat of the car, red-eyed, his smile stretching slow and thick like putty. When you straddled his lap, his hands searching out the bare skin of your back, you rocked against him and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the column of his pretty throat until you were pulling groans from him with each pass of your hips. 

Forget, you thought, as you pulled your underwear to the side for him. Forget every single thing but this.

When you slipped an arm behind his neck and pressed your foreheads together as you lifted and dropped, you weren’t sure whose memory you were hoping to erase with this most recent pleasure-chase: yours, or his.

1 yr, 1 month ago

There was no map or calendar to this thing your brain did. It was summer, the sun shone, and yet the days bled together again, sunsets swirling down the shower drain.

The last time you’d gone radio silent, the last time your world had gone grey without warning, Vernon had answered in kind. His own silence had shouted for him until you’d tempted him back.

This time, he didn’t resort to silence in retaliation to yours. Instead, he kept trying, relentless. If you’d had more presence of mind, you might have wondered why.

wyd

[ ]

yo. whats the deal

[ ]

i will have you know that this is very insulting

[ ]

don’t get mad but im coming over

“What the fuck, Vernon.”

“I said don’t get mad.”

“It doesn’t work like that. What are you doing here?”

He leveled you with a look. “You gonna let me in?”

“Literally, no.”

You hadn’t showered in days; your apartment was probably grosser than you were. The cat milled around your ankles, trying to weasel its way outside, and you hopped from foot to foot trying to nudge it back inside.

“Why not?” he asked.

You huffed, annoyed. But the annoyance was the first thing you’d felt all day, and something inside you clung to it, desperate for more of anything but the crawling nothing that’s kept you company for days.

“Because,” you grumbled. Because there’s nothing for you here. Because I have nothing I can give you. “I’m… just not in the mood.”

He stepped back from the door so you could see more of him. “I’m not asking you to be.”

“Then why are you here?” The words fell between you, heavy. If you hadn’t been so low, if you hadn’t gone all day without eating, if you hadn’t been on your thirtieth hour without sleeping, you would have known better. You would have realized that you were asking, if you aren’t here for sex, then what are you here for? 

You wouldn’t have asked a question that you didn’t want the answer to.

He met your eyes. He seemed to teeter on the edge of telling you the truth, giving you the real answer. Then, he muttered, “Got bored.”

You knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew you knew it, and yet neither of you were willing to look at it directly.

“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He watched you for what felt like a long time, face serious, eyes glittering and attentive. Then, instead of answering, he repeated, “Are you gonna let me in?”

You frowned at him, but there was a little more pout to it than anger. “I’m all gross,” you said, instead of answering.

Something in him softened - it was visible on his face, in his shoulders, like he knew this was your way of saying yes. “So let’s shower,” he suggested quietly.

You felt trepidation, like part of you expected him to stay soft, to try to take care of you. To your relief, Vernon acted like everything was normal, scrunching his face at you when the water was too cold as he stepped in, washing his own body in silence and letting you do your thing.

He didn’t try to hold you, didn’t ask you when you’d eaten last, didn’t try to talk about it - didn’t try to fix it. He was just… there, and this - along with your first shower in days - was somehow revitalizing in itself.

You pulled on clean sweats, which was better than the day-four sweats he’d found you in. “The apartment’s kind of… sorry,” you mumbled, looking around the living room, feeling a bit of that familiar shame crawl up your neck as you noticed the evidence that you hadn’t been picking up, or running a vacuum.

Vernon flopped backwards on your sofa, unphased, one arm bent behind his head. “We’ve been doing this for almost a year,” he pointed out. “I know how it usually is.”

It isn’t usually like this. And neither are you.

You wondered when it happened - your ability to finish his half-thoughts, your ability to know what he meant when he only said a fraction of it.

You stood awkwardly beside the couch where he was lounging, and he looked up at you with a tiny, amused smile.

“What do you wanna do?”

What you really wanted to do was cocoon yourself in blankets again and put on repeats of a show you’d already seen. But now you had to look functional. You might be mad at him for showing up like this, now that you thought about it.

“I dunno,” you said, which was close to the truth.

“You wanna eat?”

“Honestly?” you asked, pursing your lips a little. “No.”

“Okay,” he said easily, and it struck you again how different this was than how Chan treated you when you were low. Chan would have already had the food delivered, and would be chasing you around the table with loaded chopsticks, demanding you take a bite.

“Can we just… watch something?” you asked, unsure.

Vernon wordlessly reached for your remote and held it up to you, nonplussed.

You wondered if it was an act, how easy this was, how unbothered he was, how he seemed to just understand what wouldn’t help.

You knew it wasn’t; you’d been around long enough to know that Vernon’s demons weren’t all that different from yours.

You settled somewhere between his body and the back of the couch, one leg bent over his legs, one of your arms over his stomach and his arm curled around your shoulders.

“This is weird,” you muttered into his chest, and his laugh rumbled under you.

“Why?” he asked, his smile big, like he thought you were particularly funny. “Not used to being big spoon?”

Not used to cuddling - with you.

“Yeah,” you said, because that was easier.

On your TV, a show ran through several episodes, the changing scenes splashing you and Vernon with changing colors, casting his face blue and then white and then black and then red and then blue again. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d scroll on his phone. You mostly felt his heart beating under your hand and let your mind whir.

At some point he started mindlessly (or not mindlessly, who could know) stroking your back, gentle touches brushing up and down, slow, slow, the way he always was. At some point you shivered, goosebumps rising along your arms, and snuggled closer to him. At some point he shifted you from slightly beside him to on top of him, a second hand slipping under your loose tshirt and joining the first in tracing stripes up and down your upper back.

You shifted against him, something coming to life with a shudder like the furnace in your parent’s basement on cold autumn nights. Heat worked its way slowly from your core to your stomach, down your legs.

He kept his eyes on the tv, innocent, but you could hear his heartbeat. It couldn’t lie and pretend.

You shifted again, squirming until you’d worked his t-shirt up just enough that you could touch skin, too. You trailed your own fingers over the inch of exposed stomach you’d found, and delighted in the way you could feel him start to harden beneath you.

Then, you delighted in your delight. It was the first good thing you’d been able to feel in almost a week.

You said his name, and he finally looked down at you, eyes nearly black in the unlit room.

“What is it?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly so low it sent shivers tumbling down each vertebrae and tripping over to your limbs. “Want me to make you feel good?”

No, you wanted to say as you answered his question by pulling the hem of his t-shirt higher, encouraging him to lift up so you could pull it off. No, just want you to make me feel.

1 year ago

Everywhere Vernon looked, all he saw was circles. Circle of red in his bowl when he inhaled. Circle of condensation on the table when he lifted his beer. Circle of light reflecting from his phone case, laying in the setting sunlight, to the ceiling. Above him, the ceiling fan circled lazily, nowhere to be.

And you - you and him. That was a circle, too. A cycle, at least, which was close enough in his opinion. Text, hook up, skitter back to your respective places, wait out the next weekend. It was as rhythmic and routine as waves breaking and then getting pulled back out only to come shatter on sand again. It was out of his control, up to forces far greater than he was.

Vernon’s friends had texted to hang out and he’d declined. He told them he was seeing his parents, but really, he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to watch the ceiling fan circle, he wanted to let his brain go staticky quiet, he wanted to burrow deep into things that made him feel less.

But he still, somehow, wanted to see you. He wanted to be alone, and being with you didn’t feel like not getting that.

It was a little scary, he thought, that you were the exception. That he could be with you without feeling the uncomfortable pressure of being with others, of having to be on, of having to fake cheerfulness and keep up with chatter that only exhausted him.

Vernon wasn’t a kid. He knew what it meant.

whats up

honestly not a lot. want me to come over?

Yeah, he did. He did, even if you weren’t going to hook up. He did, even if you were just going to lay on opposite sides of the couch and scroll on your phones. He did, and he hoped he’d end up with his arms around you, and he hoped he’d make you laugh at least once, and he hoped you’d stay and just be there with him after.

When you came over, he asked you how you felt about it - about him, about you and him. He asked by laying you on your back in his bed, by brushing fingertips along your face. He asked you by sliding your leggings away gently, pressing his mouth to each inch of your inseam as it became exposed to his dimly lit room. He asked you by kissing you through the lace you wore for him, then kissing the same spot once that lace was on his floor.

He asked you when he crawled up your body until his tip teased at your entrance and you whined, shifting to try to take him. And - when he took it slow this time, teeth scraping at your neck and then tongue hurrying to soothe the sting, his arms bracketing your body like he was sheltering you from an incoming storm.

(Maybe, he considered, he was.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was worthless in the face of this storm’s wrath.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was the fucking storm in the first place.)

And you heard his question loud and clear. You pulled on your leggings as soon as you were cleaned up, popping your hood up over your head as you searched for your phone. You kept your eyes on your screen as you waited for a car to come, murmured, “Later,” on your way out the door.

Vernon’s apartment rang with quiet. He was alone, he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

He’d also, it seemed, gotten his answer.

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thank you so much for reading!!! i'm always happy to hear what you think!

[nicksbestie]

hi as of like yesterday yr requests are still open so i hope this isn’t a bother ! but anyway i was hoping to see some caregiver!reader + agere!johnnie ? preferably gnc reader but fem would also be okay ( whatever prior relationship you want :] ) don’t have many ideas for plot aside from maybe johnnie has had a bad day/is really stressed out so he kinda starts isolating himself, which reader respects but is also really worried about him :( so after a while reader uses maybe like a spare key to go into johnnie’s room and at first it just seems like he’s just upset but as reader starts trying to get johnnie to open up and trying to comfort him, he regresses which makes him more upset/panicky. whether reader has prior knowledge of regression is up to you but in general they’re just really sweet and supportive trying to calm johnnie down <3 maybe they eat dinner/reader feeds johnnie, and watch a movie/cartoon while cuddling ? ( little spoon johnnie ofc ) anyways feel free to add or take away anything i just want johnnie to be taken care of and as an agere i am totally projecting lol

Secrets - Johnnie Guilbert

Summary : Johnnie's biggest secret is exposed without him being ready, but it goes better than he thinks it will.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : descriptions of mental health issues, depression, and isolation

Word Count : 1541

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Everyone has secrets. Some of them are terrible ones, skeletons in your closet, ones that would ruin many people’s lives should they escape out into the public. Others are small and simple, things they just like to keep to themselves, and wouldn’t hurt anyone if other people knew, they just don’t want them to be everyone’s business. Some people keep secrets to protect themselves because they would be embarrassed about it if anyone found out. Everyone keeps secrets, and sometimes they’re revealed at the wrong time. Johnnie had secrets, and he was in no way prepared for his biggest one to be exposed to anyone, especially not you, but sometimes life goes in ways that we just can’t predict. 

Johnnie had been struggling a lot lately. That wasn’t a secret, and although you knew about it, you didn’t pressure him very much. He wasn’t the type to open up when he was overly pushed about whatever was wrong, and you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable coming to you when he was ready, and not before that. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t concerned, because you most definitely were. This bad spell for him was bordering on being one of his worst ones ever, and you were about to step in, because you couldn’t stand to see him hurting on his own any longer, even if that was what he told you he wanted. 

Johnnie had begun to isolate himself for almost every hour of the day, only exiting his room to eat and use the bathroom. He didn’t talk much to you out loud, texting instead, as it took much less energy out of him to take that route. He didn’t like to talk about it, despite knowing that he most definitely needed to. You hated how he could be so self destructive, but you knew that you did the exact same thing when you felt the way that he did. So, you respected his space and always let him have it when he asked for it. However, it normally didn’t last this long, thus feeling the massive worry that encased your mind. 

After a couple more hours, you continued to let your worry grow, but you decided to do something about it. You hated the fact that you were about to ignore the boundaries that Johnnie had put into place, but you were seriously concerned, and you hoped that he would be able to understand and forgive you should he be upset with your decision. You grabbed the spare key that unlocked all the doors in the house, kept in the kitchen just in case of emergencies, and gently knocked on his bedroom door. You weren’t going to just barge in, you wanted to give him the chance to open it himself. When he didn’t reply, you softly called out to him, telling him that you were going to open the door. He didn’t argue, so you did just that. 

Walking into his room, you noticed that the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and he was quietly laying in his bed, staring at the wall. You immediately laid down next to him, letting him curl up next to you. You noticed the stained tear tracks on his cheeks, your heart breaking for him as he simply laid there. You let the both of you cuddle in silence, not wanting this to be a heartbreaking moment for the both of you, so you didn’t break the silence for a while. You knew that you should probably talk about what was going on, but the moment was so peaceful that you didn’t want to say anything. You both laid there quietly for about half an hour, taking in the comfort of the other’s presence, before you said anything. 

“We should talk about this, baby. It’s getting worse this time.” 

You could feel him shake his head against your chest. 

“No. I don’t want to talk.” 

“Honey, it’s important-” 

“No!”

Woah. He very rarely snapped at you. He had almost never snapped at you, especially not when he was feeling like this. But, in all fairness, you had pushed him a little bit. You could feel the tears from his eyes soaking your shirt, and you decided to not speak any more for a little bit. You gently pulled his face up, wiping his tears away with the soft pads of your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out a bit with your fingers. You noticed that his eyes were widened more, much more glassy, and you definitely were concerned about it, but you brushed it off to the tears causing it. 

You were more surprised when he pulled away from you, as he had never done that. You gently reached out to try and cuddle him again, but you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at you. He seemed to be panicking about something, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. You weren’t upset with him, but from the anxiety radiating off of his body, you could tell that he probably felt like you were. So, you immediately spoke up to try and help him recognize the fact that he was always safe and loved with you. 

“Love, what’s wrong? It’s all going to be okay.” 

You were now completely confused, as the second that you spoke, your boyfriend burst into tears. He seemed to be absolutely inconsolable, crying nearly at the top of his lungs and clutching the squishmallow on his bed tightly between his arms. You didn’t know what else to do besides just hug him, whispering comforting words as you told him that everything was going to work out, and that you were here for him. It wasn’t until he looked up at you with the same glassy-eyed look as earlier and spoke a few words when you realized what was going on. 

When a choked out “I sorry” left his lips, you put together the look in his eyes, and unexpected crying, and the clutched stuffie, and immediately realized what was happening. Your boyfriend had slipped right into his littlespace, a littlespace that you were completely unaware of, and was absolutely distraught. You had been a caregiver in a previous relationship, and you quickly controlled your shocked face, bringing him as close to you as possible and gently stroking through his hair. 

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, angel, nothing to be sorry for. I’ve got you, you’re going to be alright.” 

It took a lot of repetitive words and soft praises for Johnnie to relax, his crying eventually slowing when he realized that you weren’t upset with him, and that you were still there and still loving him despite his newfound headspace. He wrapped himself back around you, seeming to become a very quiet little. You were more than excited to get to know him in his headspace, so excited to get to love and spoil a little one, as it had been a long time. Less than an hour later, the two of you were still curled up next to each other, you simply hugging your little boy and whispering sweet nothings to him as he relaxed. You both enjoyed the quality time, and as it turns out, Johnnie is a very silent little, despite when he’s not upset. It wasn’t for another half an hour or so that you moved, and you probably wouldn’t have moved at all had it not been for Johnnie’s stomach growling. 

You held his hand as you walked to the kitchen, calling him the most adorable as he rubbed his eyes with a fist. You put some chicken nuggets in the oven for him, before you went to the bathroom and you helped him remove the makeup that he’d put on that morning. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but he put it on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. You were gentle but bubbly, and you noticed that your little loved to laugh, and giggled at every funny face you made at him. Dinner went quite smoothly, him eating all of it, which absolutely warmed your heart, as he hadn’t been eating much lately due to his depressive slump. 

Little Johnnie seemed to love food, and you were grateful for that, because you didn’t want dinner time to cause him to be upset again. After he had finished eating, you got him a popsicle from the freezer, wrapped it in a paper towel so his hands didn’t get cold, and tucked him in on the couch while you cleaned up the plate and put it into the dishwasher. He was wrapped up in a blanket, cuddled with his stuffie, and you sat down next to him as soon as you were done. You gently tapped through channels and shows as you waited for your little one to pick a cartoon he’d like to watch, finally settling on “Spongebob”, and he immediately wrapped himself back up in your arms. 

He’d been in a dark episode for a while, but now, it seemed like he was able to see the light at the end of it, and you couldn’t wait to be here to help him through it all.

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[skinnypaleangryperson]

My heart is broken over this gray world and this life dedicated to slavery by selfish people who are just playing sheep differently taking control of me and paying me so little that I can't even have a decent personal life to make up for crushed creative dreams. I hurt myself with my own imagination and how vivid it is, the TV shows that I would have liked to work on an extended with my passion and ideas, the artistry the lights, the emotion the storytelling, the storyboards and the artistic lighting that I work on every day simply because it's all that makes sense to me. These images, thoughts, storytelling, emotions, everything where I pour all of my desperation of what I wish the humanity and connection that my life would have into a couple of iPad drawings every day in the corner of an empty bedroom.

It comes across as melodramatic posting about it online, but if you were to live a day in my life with having nothing except for my raw isolated imagination in such a repetitive, soulless, compassionless gray world, where I have no connection to anyone anymore, and no one that I can share anything with and convinced I will never have a true friendship or relationship with anyone outside of baseline tolerance at best again, on top of failed motherhood and a failed creative career, you would be crying out on the internet every second you got the chance to. I haven't wanted to live this life for the longest time that I could remember, and I will never want to again. In a sense, thank God nobody cares and that I can just post about it at whatever whim that I want throughout the miserable day, because this is the only place left where I can still feel somewhat human, and where I can just be as unashamedly detailed about every single depressed and morbidly despairing thought, share some of my work, even if it's only to myself just to prove that it even exists outside of my own sick corner of the world, and generally to feel seen for a little while, Even if only by myself, which is what me and the majority of people in working class America have, with no way out, because we're not "special", And if you have an artistic vision it will break your heart more than anything else.

I especially love this scene that I came up with it during my on maladaptive daydreaming lately with my family with BoJack and Samantha and Harper. The storylines that I come up with his family and with our girls are always incredibly vivid every single day and they both still simultaneously break my heart, because I know that the vision that I share in the passion that I have and my want to share in storytelling will only ever be an ongoing sickly headspace in the back of my head while the gray reality of a life that has long since over if it ever began goes on around me without change. The beauty of the family life that I wanted to have on top of the creative dreams that I have that has projected itself into the muddled mental disorder of maladaptive daydreaming of my beautiful family with Bojack both is the only thing that keeps me going throughout the empty slave hours of my life, which is so lonely that most people I'm convinced would not be able to live it, well at the same time fills me with such a beauty and meaning taking it in that I couldn't ever let it go.

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

The Boyfriend Experience - Ch.2

Author's Note: I'm sorry this took me like 289380 billion years to finish. I hope you guys like it

Word Count: 5.9 k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: Depression, loneliness, isolation, negative thoughts and emotions but fluff to make up for it

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto other sites or social medias. This work is my own and it is owned by me.

Nothing was happening. At this point, you thought Eddie had forgotten all about his ‘Boyfriend Experience’ proposal. Since that night in your apartment, Eddie hadn’t done anything. You had both seen each other, too. So it wasn’t for the lack of being around one another. Once a week the party gets together to hang out. Sometimes it was a movie night, sometimes an excursion to do other activities depending on the season. It was getting closer to fall. The heat was starting to break and cool down more and more in the daytime, staying nice and chill in the evening. You loved this transition into fall. All the things of comfort that you loved. Comfort food, soft blankets and scary movies. It made you happy. However, you also found yourself thinking of Eddie. When you curled up on your couch with a horror movie on and some good food, your mind wandered to how nice it would be to have someone with you. Before, it used to be a vague idea of a ‘someone’. Just wanting another body next to yours, enjoying the same things that you enjoyed. But now? Now all you could think about was the warm smell of Old Spice and brown curls out of the corner of your eye. 

Your hope that you had shamefully attached to Eddie without him knowing was starting to dwindle fast. The more time that passed without him bringing up his plan or doing much of anything with you made that hope fade and fizzle out. Eddie was still nice to you, of course. Like he always had been. He talked to you, included you in the conversation with the group when you grew quiet and off to the side. He even gifted you a little affection when in front of the others. It dawned on you one day that he probably didn’t want to do anything because of the others being around. Of course, it made sense! Why would he want everyone to know he had done something with you? Kissed you? It all made sense now. Even if a small voice at the back of your mind said Eddie wasn’t that type of guy. But you weren't the one most wanted. 

You went through phases like the one you were in now. You were fine with being alone a lot. You had been and felt alone for most of your life. Not many friends, no romantic partners, and just faded into the background. You grew accustomed to loneliness. However, every now and again, you yearn. You yearn for companionship. Wherever you could get it. You once again found yourself in that position. Yearning. As you scrolled on your phone, you saw a few Instagram posts from friends, liking and commenting on some things. You chuckled as you spotted a photo of Nancy and Jonathan looking at puppies in a pet store. You transitioned to your messaging app, texting Nancy asking if she and Jonathan were planning on getting a puppy now that they lived together. After a few more minutes of scrolling, you decided to set down your phone and get some chores done.

You spent time dutifully cleaning your apartment. You always felt better when your place was clean. Too cluttered with mess made you feel like you coudn’t think or focus. However, you decided to take a break from running around busting your ass and sat down with some water, picking up your phone. You went to see if Nancy texted you back since you had texted her a while ago. No new messages. You opened up your text to Nancy.

Read: 2:17 pm

You looked at the time on your phone. 5:45 pm. You deflated, setting your phone aside. ‘Maybe she’s just busy’, you tried to rationalize. But the tiny voice in the back of your mind told you otherwise. No, she just didn’t care enough to answer. You sighed, going back to Instagram seeing another recent post from Nancy. So she was on her phone. You tossed your phone across the couch. To anyone else, this wouldn’t be a big deal. You were being too sensitive, you tried to tell yourself. You took the pillow from behind your back and shoved it on top of your phone as if it would somehow silence the bad thoughts swirling in your head. 

When things like this happened, you knew it was time to step away. If you continued the way you were, you would only get hurt. So you ignored your phone for the evening. Sometimes, that helped, but sometimes it didn’t do much to ease the thoughts swirling in your mind. Instead, you tried to stay positive. The next day, you decided to venture out of your home. You got dressed in something that made you feel comfortable. A large black hoodie, some black leggings and your red boots. Large and comfy, not wanting to feel self conscious today in any way. You found yourself wandering back to Family Video to rent some movies. When you walked inside, Steve and Robin weren’t alone.

All the gang, minus the kids, were there talking about something. When you walked in, Eddie was the first one to look up and see you. You smiled softly at him and wandered over to the horror movie section. Seconds later, Eddie was there.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he greeted, leaning against the shelf of movies.

“Hey, Eddie. How’s it goin?” you asked as you pulled a few movies from the shelf.

“Pretty good. Work’s keeping me busy,” he sighed, “But money is good. Means I can do more fun things.”

“Oh yeah? Like that?”

He grinned. “Spend it on something or someone I care about.” He shrugged, as if his answer meant nothing.

You looked at him, raising a brow before frowning. “If you think you’re gonna be spending any money on me, put that back in your head.” you warned, and Eddie sighed dramatically.

“C’mon, babe.” he murmured and moved closer. “Can’t treat my best girl to something?” Best girl. His best girl.

You shook your head. “You’re a ham, Eds.” you told him, bumping your shoulder with his as you head back to the counter. You placed the old movie you rented on the counter, adding the new ones to be rung up, too. Steve jumped to take care of your movies.

“So we can all leave here by six tomorrow? Should make it there on time. Maybe get a motel for the night?” Nancy suggested to the group, the others nodding along.

“There something going on?” you asked them.

Eyes turned to you as Nancy nodded. “We’re heading to the city to go and check out this club.” She answered.

“You’re all going?” you asked, glancing around the group as the others confirmed they were going. “Oh,” you murmured and silence followed.

“We know clubbing isn’t exactly your thing. That’s why we didn’t invite you.” Steve supplemented when the awkwardness began to kick in. You thanked whatever god was out there that you managed to control your face quick enough when you realized everyone was looking at you. You felt the ache in your chest of being excluded. Clubbing wasn’t Jonathan’s thing either, yet he was invited. Eddie didn’t like clubbing either unless it was somewhere that played music he liked. Yet, he was invited. You managed to school your face into a neutral expression. Neither happy nor sad. Just nothing. You felt the familiar burn of tears threatening to make themselves known and averted your eyes to the top of the counter. You dug into your pocket and handed your money to Steve. This was the second time now you’ve come into Family Video and had your feelings hurt. Maybe next time you’d rent somewhere else…

“Have fun.” you murmured with a small smile, taking your movies and swiftly exiting the store. You didn’t make it very far before tears gathered on your lash line. You got to your car and pulled open the door, sliding into the driver's seat and tossing the movies into the seat beside you. You took a long, shaky breath and turned the ignition. You saw the door to Family Video open up, Eddie stepping outside. You already pulled out of the parking spot, turning and heading back to your house before you could even think about what Eddie wanted. He most likely was stepping out for a smoke since Steve had had to yell at him in the past for trying to smoke in the store.

—----------------------------------------

Eddie was trying to take things slowly. He realized with his proposal that he might have come on too strongly. He didn’t want to scare you. No, he wanted this to work out well. Not scare you off before he gets the chance to get close to you. So he kept a little distance. He hadn’t meant to be as distant as he was as work took over his life. He wanted to see you. He missed you. He cherished it when he’d get to see you at least once a week at group functions. Eddie was invited to Family Video by Steve, something about plans they were making. So he had gotten dressed and hopped into his van, driving over to Family Video. When he walked inside, he saw everyone but you and felt the disappointment take hold at not seeing you standing with everyone else. He wandered up to the counter and scrunched his nose hearing a club mentioned. The only time Eddie liked going to clubs was if they played the music he liked to listen to. He wasn’t fond of the usual shit the clubs played. He’d go just to have some overpriced drinks and smoke inside, but otherwise he had no stake in it. He agreed to going, assuming that you had also been invited but weren’t here to make plans for it. You usually went along with whatever plan was made beforehand. 

When the door opened and the bell went off, Eddie looked over and grinned at seeing you walk inside. Of course, as soon as you broke off to go look at movies, he followed after you. He hadn’t seen you in two days, not that he was counting. He walked with you back to the counter and when you had asked what was going on; it hit him that you weren’t in on the plans to go to a club in the city. The second that ‘Oh’ left your lips, he wanted to hug you. Hearing the sad tone was enough to crack his heart. At Steve’s words, Eddie couldn’t help the prickle of annoyance in his chest. They knew he didn’t like clubbing either, but they had invited him. He knew the last time you all went to a club you had practically stuck to whoever was closest to you, not wanting to be left alone with all the drunk strangers. 

Then Eddie saw it. 

He had been looking at you and after Steve’s words he saw the flash of hurt on your face. It was in your eyes and on your face for all of half a second. Then he saw your face melt into indifference. Nothing shows on your face to betray your feelings. He just watched you go stone cold in seconds to cover how you felt. But he knew. He saw it. He saw the hurt and rejection. Even your tone as you told them to have fun held no emotion in it. The smile you offered was one to throw them off. Then you were gone. Eddie watched your retreating back and he looked back at the others. They seemed none the wiser. Eddie knew that they had good intentions. That they didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. However, he couldn’t shake the feeling he got seeing you school your features to not let the others in on how you were feeling. Eddie moved without thinking and without explanation, pushing the door open of Family Video just in time to see you pull away from the store. He wanted to jump out in front of your car. Anything to make you not run off from them. From him. But Eddie watched you go. Standing out there in the parking lot was when Eddie decided he would not be going tomorrow evening. No, he couldn’t do that to you. Instead, he headed back inside to let the group know he was bailing on them. Citing something more important that he had to do and ignoring the looks from Jonathan and Nancy as they glanced at one another.

The next evening was when Eddie’s plan came into action. He knew you well enough, listened to you well enough to know you would be at home in comfy clothes, keeping to yourself. So Eddie packed himself an overnight bag and headed to your place. It was sunset, and he knew you were home. He was happy to see your car parked outside your apartment and quickly made his way to your door. He could hear you inside. It sounded like you were cooking something. He knocked on the door a couple of times. When the door opened, he grinned at the sight of you. You were in a hoodie, hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of your head. Your sweatpants were baggy and tied around your hips like you had bought mens sweatpants and were unable to keep them up. Orange socks with jack-o-lantern faces on the tops of your feet poked out from the legs of your sweatpants. 

“What’s cooking?” Eddie asked, smelling something savory coming from your kitchen.

—--------------------------------

It was homemade chicken noodle soup. A comfort food for you. After the past few days, you were ready to just take time for yourself. Sometimes a self care day just makes you feel the tiniest bit better. So you planned a good meal, a bath, skin care and lots of comfort. You had chopped up all your vegetables. The usual carrots, celery, onion and garlic go into the pot. You seasoned your chicken bone broth with thyme and a sizable bay leaf. You always made more soup than one person probably needed. Usually getting a couple of bowls out of it, but you didn’t care. You had put all your veggies into the broth to simmer to soften the veggies and get some good flavor into them. You shredded up some chicken, noodles already ready to throw into the soup when it was finished. A movie played in the background as you tossed some garlic bread into the oven. Jack was just touring the hotel he would be working in for the winter. You smiled softly as you moved to your coffee table, lighting up a candle and going back to the kitchen for a drink when you heard a knock on the door. You stopped mid-stride. You certainly weren’t expecting anybody since all your friends had gone into the city to that club and you had no other friends. You frowned and approached the door carefully before leaning up on your toes for the peephole. Despite the fact that the thing was murky as hell, you could always recognize the mop of brown curls on the other side. You quickly opened the door, staring up at Eddie. At his question, you opened your mouth and closed it again. Why was he here? Shouldn’t he be with everyone else? Your eyes drifted to the bag on his shoulder. 

“Uh, chicken noodle soup and garlic bread.” You answered, stepping back to let Eddie inside. He moved inside like you had expected him. There was a dull thud as his bag hit the floor. Eddie crouched down and opened up his bag, pulling out clothes. You blinked, slowly backing up into the kitchen, a little more confused now. You opened the fridge and poured yourself some water. “Water or beer?” You called out.

“Water!”

You grabbed another glass and poured Eddie some water. You shuffled back to the living room and stopped short seeing Eddie changing in the middle of your living room. “Uhh, Eds?” you tilted your head to the side. His pale skin contrasted his tattoos well. Black ink against alabaster skin portraying things Eddie had drawn up himself. Unique art on a unique human being. For never being a jock, Eddie had muscle. You’d seen the amplifiers he had picked up before, so you knew his arms were muscular before you even got this chance to ogle them. He had a little waist and a tiny bit of pudge on his stomach. It was funny to you in that moment that you admired his tummy, but you hated your own. You wanted to poke at his tummy and hug him, feel the warmth of his skin against yours and the contours of his body.

“What’s so funny?”

You moved your eyes from Eddie’s chest to his amused face. “Nothing,” you murmured and held out the glass to him.

Eddie took the glass and took a sip before humming and shaking his head. “Nope, something was definitely funny. Was it something about my chest? You were staring pretty hard.”

Your face immediately grew warm knowing that he had caught you staring at him. “I-”

“You can stare all you want, sweetheart. Take a picture if you want, too.” Eddie set his glass down and reached for his belt, undoing it faster than you had ever seen someone unbuckle and remove a belt from their person. He popped the button on his jeans next.

“Soup! Gonna… soup.” You half shouted, half mumbled before retreating into the kitchen quickly. You removed the lid from the pot and stared down into your soup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

When you finally got your breathing under control and you stopped picturing Eddie taking his belt off in your living room, you returned to your task of making dinner. You pulled the garlic bread from the oven and dumped the egg noodles into the pot. You reached up to grab some bowls, but another pair of hands stopped you in your tracks. Eddie grabbed the bowls, chest pressed to your back. He grabbed two of them and two small plates for the garlic bread, then set them on the counter. You swallowed thickly and wondered if he had put a shirt on. You turned your head and discovered that he hadn’t. You wiggled around until you faced him. Eddie smiled, placing his hands on the counter and trapping you in. “Not cold?” you murmured softly.

Eddie shook his head. “No, not cold,” he murmured back. One of his hands moved to your hip before sliding behind to slide up into your hoodie, touching your back. 

You stared up at him, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. He stared back at you and you watched as his eyes wandered from your eyes, then down to your lips. As he leaned in, you reached up and placed your hand on his jaw, your thumb resting on his lips. “Hold on, before you distract me,” you chuckle, feeling his lower lip jut out a little under your thumb in a pout. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the city?”

Eddie’s face shifted at your inquiry. No longer pouting, he now looked a bit sad and you thought you might have hurt his feelings by making it seem like you didn’t want him there. You moved your thumb off of his lip to let him speak. “I guess? But I knew you weren’t going and I wasn’t going to go without you…” he murmured. You watched his face for a moment. He looked like he had more to say to you and you hoped your silence would soon egg him on. You nodded your head a little. “How did you do that?” he finally asked quietly after a few moments of silence. 

“Do what?”

“You shut off.” You raised a brow at that. Shut off? Shut off what? “In the store the other day, Steve mentioned why they didn’t invite you. You looked upset for half a second, sweetheart, then… nothing. Like it never happened. I watched you just kinda… shut off?”

Oh. “You noticed that?” you whispered and Eddie nodded. His fingers soothingly rubbed the skin of your back. 

“Yeah, I noticed that.” he answered, “What was that?”

You didn’t want to tell him. You’d learned sometimes it was far better hiding your feelings than making other people ‘deal with’ them. You didn’t want to bother anyone with your emotions. “It was nothing, really.” you waved it off but Eddie was stubborn and you knew this. So it didn’t surprise you when he shook his head. 

“No, no. Not nothing. C’mon. Boyfriend time. Be honest with me and how you feel.” 

You sighed. There was only so long you could go with this and you knew this. Eddie was persistent when he wanted to be. Your hands moved to his chest before settling down at his waist. “I just… hid it.” you murmured with a small shrug as if it was nothing.

“Hid it?”

“My reaction. How I felt.”

“Why?”

The simple question in and of itself stopped you. You knew why but you also knew for some people it probably was a hard thing to grasp. You took a breath and sighed. “Because it’s better to tuck it away than to let people know you’re upset. So they don’t get upset that you’re upset and have to deal with how you… I, feel.” you murmured your explanation, distracting yourself with the tattoos inked into Eddie’s chest instead of looking up at his face. “It happens. Especially when I’ve had a rough week. It just… feels easier to tuck it away for the time being.”

“And what happens when it doesn’t stay hidden away?” Eddie practically whispered his question like he was afraid of the answer.

“You wouldn’t want to see that when it happens. It isn’t pretty.”

“I’m not here for just the pretty.” 

Your eyes moved up to his face. “Yeah?” your voice cracked a little and you resisted the urge to ask why he had waited all week to kiss you then if that was how he felt. Why he didn’t want to in front of everyone else. It never occurred to you that it might be for your comfort and not his own.

“Talk to me,baby. Tell me what’s happened this week.” Eddie murmured, pressing closer to you. His lips met your forehead in a soothing touch as you took a shaky breath. 

“I just felt…” your lips closed again. It was nerve wracking just telling someone plainly how you felt. How you hurt.

“Go on,”

“I felt ignored this week,” you admitted softly.

“By who?” Eddie asked, pulling back so he could see your face now.

“Nancy was first. Reached out and she left me on read that’s all… there was also what happened at Family Video the other day. You and Jonathan got invited to the club and I know it isn’t my scene but it isn’t yours either but you guys got invited. Then,” you stopped. The last thing had been Eddie. Not hearing from him since the first night he was there at your apartment with you and when he did see you he had acted as if none of this was happening. It made you feel a way you didn’t want to feel again.

Eddie was too observant in his day to day life but sitting there watching your face intently as you spoke he knew not just from your trailing off into silence that there was something else but he could see it in your eyes. He gave your side a gentle squeeze as if to pull you back to him. “Then,” he murmured softly.

Your eyes moved back up to Eddie’s face. You were afraid to hurt his feelings and the urge to tell him that it was nothing was strong. The way Eddie watched you made you feel like you should just tell him. If you didn’t, you risked him acting as if nothing had ever happened again. It felt almost like being used. “I know this isn’t real.” you started, “but you… I just hardly saw you this week and I know I’m probably overthinking it like the idiot I am but I didn’t see you for so long and then we finally have a party gathering and… I don’t know. I expected something, I guess.” 

“Something? Can you give me more details?” he asked, his other hand now moving to cradle the back of your head.

Band aid. Just rip it off. “Did you not want to kiss me in front of everyone else? It’s because it’s me, isn’t it?” you practically rush out. 

The look on Eddie’s face has your face growing warm with embarrassment. The shock written on his face at your words like he almost couldn’t believe you had asked him that. “No! No, Y/N. It’s not because it’s you. How could you… Fuck, babe. I’d kiss you in front of all of them but I didn’t for you. Not because of you. I didn’t wanna scare you off and I also didn’t want everyone to have a million questions especially cause I had no idea what you were thinking after last week. Trust me, if I thought I could get away with it I’d make out with you in front of all of them and risk whatever would be thrown at us to make us stop.” Eddie chuckled, tucking a piece of your hair back into your bun that attempted an escape. You pouted, lightly swatting his side as he mentioned making out with you in front of the others. It made sense what he was saying. If no one else knew of your ‘arrangement’ it might seem weird it happened. Besides that, one moment you both were just friends and the next you were all over one another? You supposed it wasn’t far off. “I know you’re also not huge on public displays of affection.” Eddie added on.

You shrugged your shoulders. That was actually due in part to being on your own. Being so lonely, yearning what other people had and those experiences sometimes made it hard to see people lavish affection on one another. It usually brought on a bitter feeling and thoughts about how you would never know what that would feel like. It was better not to see it than to see it and crave what you couldn’t have. You pressed your face to Eddie’s chest and sighed, taking in his warmth. “More like jealousy than anything else,” you mumbled your confession against his skin. You’d never been this close to a shirtless man before. 

“Jealousy, huh?” Eddie hummed and you could hear the smirk in his tone. “Might just have to make out with you on our first public date outting. Movies? Go real old school with it.”

“Not really old school like Skull Rock or Lovers Lake?” you tease and rested your chin on his chest.

“Oooh, you wanna go really old school, huh?” Eddie laughed and nodded his head, “We can do that.” 

You felt a little better having talked it out with Eddie. The conversation didn’t go deeper after that, but even the little that you had touched on felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Eddie made you feel validated. Not that your feelings were unimportant in any way. Sometimes you knew what was upsetting you could be ridiculous and was linked to a deeper problem at the time but it was nice just to be heard. There were multiple reasons why someone might not answer their phone or decide they will answer later and just forget. You sometimes just got into these depressive episodes where it felt like everything was the issue. The smallest thing was blown up in your mind because your mind was telling you these negative things. It was why you found nights like these helpful. A good meal, some movies and self care could sometimes knock you into a good headspace to start fresh again.

After your conversation, you and Eddie took your food into the living room. You both eat in silence as you watch the movie. Every now and again, Eddie makes a comment on the film or your cooking. When the food was finished and the rest put up, you sat on the couch and knew you should move on to your other parts of the evening before it got too late. Eddie dramatically draped himself over your legs as you stretched out on your couch. He wriggled his way up until his head rested on your stomach. “So, what else do you do on these cozy nights of yours?” Eddie asked, eyes glued to the TV.

“I do some skincare, have a good bath or shower. Get all pretty and soft skinned.” you answered as you began playing with his hair. It then occurred to you that Eddie was there. You moved your hand to his face, feeling his cheek before feeling his forehead then his nose. 

“Sweetheart… what are you doing?”

You giggle at his question and shrug. “Feeling your face compared to your T-zone.” you answer as if it was obvious.

“My what zone?” Eddie lifted his head to look at you.

“Your T-zone.” you poked his forehead, running your finger across his forehead, then down the bridge of his nose to form a T. “Some people are more oily in their T-zone. I was curious about your face. Do you wanna join me?”

“Are you gonna touch my zones again?”

“I’m gonna touch all over your face. Maybe your neck too.” you laughed. If you really wanted to you could spoil him by laying him down and giving him the full treatment. “Shower first though.”

Eddie immediately grinned. “Are we gonna shower together?” he wiggled his brows at you.

“I think it’s a tad early for you to see me naked.”

“Damn it.” Eddie sighed dramatically, “... you can still see me naked though.”

“You almost did show me. Remember?”

“Oh yeah… where did I throw that belt?”

—--------------------------------

Both of you took separate showers. Once you were clean, you had set out your stuff on your night table and sat on your bed. Eddie laid down on your bed with his head resting in your lap. You already had a face mask on and had diligently pulled Eddie’s hair back, strapping a headband onto him to keep his hair at bay from his face.

“So this is supposed to be good for you?” Eddie asked, eyes closed as you picked things up off of your bedside table.

“Yes, Eddie. It’s good for you.” you laughed as you wet Eddie’s face. You squirted some of your face wash into your hands and lathered it up before starting to clean Eddie’s face. You made sure to massage the cleanser into his skin. A small smile tugged at your lips feeling Eddie’s body relax further as you massaged his face. Once it was clean, you took a damp towel and wiped the cleanser off.

“Tranquilizer fingers over here.” Eddie mumbled quietly. You hummed as you started to paint a mask onto his face. “Oooh, what the fuck, is this normal?” Eddie asked, chocolate eyes open and turned up towards you.

“What’s happening?” you asked him with a frown.

“My face is tingly. Is my face gonna fall off?” his eyes were wide, concerned for the state of his face.

“Does it tingle or burn like a sunburn?”

“Tingle. It doesn’t hurt.”

You laughed and shook your head. “That’s normal, babe. If it burned then no.” you reassured him, smoothing more of the mask over his face.

“Oh thank god. My beautiful face,” he sighed dramatically. “So this relaxing stuff, you do it often?”

You nodded your head. “It helps me relax. Forget about everything that happens when it’s a bad day. Makes me feel fresh and renewed in a way. Relaxed, too.” you explained with a small shrug.

“Do you masturbate on these nights too?” Eddie chuckled, “Sounds like it’d go well together.”

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yeah, perv. That goes hand in hand too.” you laugh, gently tugging on his hair. 

Eddie managed to let you finish doing a face mask on him followed by putting some hair products into his hair. You even managed to paint his nails for him. Black, of course. At the end of the night when the beauty products were put away and the dishes cleaned, Eddie crawled into bed with you. You curled up beside him, snuggling close to him as he turned the night table lamp off. You listened to his heart beat. You took a breath and shut your eyes.

“Eddie,”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for spending time with me tonight.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you.”

—---------------------------------

It was still chilly. You were thankful for it. You had been watching your curtains blowing from the breeze coming through the open window for a while now. You looked over at the clock. It was later than you usually woke up but you had the day off and you currently had a man cuddling you. You found you liked cuddling or maybe you just liked cuddling Eddie. Either way, you were content. His breath fanned over your skin every time he breathed out, very much still asleep. You had entertained the idea of getting up and making coffee but that meant moving from where you were. Comfy and warm under your covers. Eddie’s arms tightened around you as if in his sleep he was telling you not to move either. You laid there just a bit longer.

It was your need for the bathroom that finally made you move. You carefully extracted yourself from Eddie’s hold and grabbed your hoodie from last night, pulling it back on. When you slept it was like a delicate balance of temperatures. Nice and cold inside the room but you couldn’t bundle too much to sleep or you’d grow too hot. You started up some coffee and then started making scrambled eggs with sausage. Just as you were finishing up Eddie stumbled out of the bedroom. You let your eyes linger on Eddie’s shirtless form walking mindlessly towards you.

“Hi,” you laughed as he shuffled towards you.

Eddie grunted, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in. His lips pressed against yours, lingering there, pressing gentle kisses against your lips. You melted against him, kissing him back and deciding this was something you could get used to. When he pulled away you whined quietly at the loss of his lips on yours. “Hi,” Eddie answered, voice gravelly from sleep. “You make me breakfast?” he murmured as his head moved to press his face to your neck. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, rubbing your hands over his back before wrapping your arms around him. “Hungry? Got coffee too.”

“So good to me,” Eddie murmured before lifting his head to kiss you again.

“C’mon,” you laughed, nudging him gently before pulling away to give him a mug.

Eddie took the mug from you and started to make his coffee. Soon the two of you were cuddled up on your couch to enjoy your breakfast together. Sitting there having coffee with Eddie felt good. It was comfortable and you found yourself thinking maybe you could get used to something like this. Maybe, just maybe, this was something you could have.

[andhumanslovedstories]

hello this is kind of heavy and no pressure at all to answer. and apologies because im sure you must have answered this before. but do you go through like a pain management flow chart for your patients and if so what are some of the steps? my dad is having some medical issues and i want to be able to help him manage his pain as much as i can. thank you and enjoy wasteland!

I work in a hospital setting so my pain management care plan is part of an interdisciplinary team in that setting. It's relatively easy for me to get, say, IV pain meds for a patient with extreme breakthrough pain. I don't know how well my approach would translate outside of that setting, I'm not palliative care trained, and I don't personally deal with chronic or acute pain (which is why I'm answering this publicly so other people can chime in), but in broad strokes:

First: Define pain. What type of pain is it? Muscle pain? Indigestion? Neuropathy? Surgical site? Stiffness from lack of movement? Is part of the pain also the fear of the pain? Sometimes when pain has been bad for a long time, or even has been bad in a short-term but very notable way, the idea of hurting that bad again is traumatizing. That fear of pain can, unfortunately, make you focus more on the pain you're feeling because now it's not just the physical sensation of pain, it's also the psychological impact of it.

Then, how does the pain affect you? Is it stopping you from sleeping? Is it stopping you from eating? Is it making you short-tempered or depressed? Does it make it difficult to focus on things? Does it make you nauseated? Anxious? Isolated? Do you feel like you need to hide it from those who care about you?

Everything pain is and affects is a place where you can intervene. Some of these interventions will be very small and would, if they were the only intervention, feel completely inadequate. Pain relief is rarely "you do one thing and you're done." You're addressing pain on multiple fronts, and sometimes that doesn't mean your focus isn't just the reduction of pain but the restoration of what pain has taken away. It's possible the worst part of pain for you isn't the pain itself but, for example, the immobility it causes. Are there different ways you can learn to move? Can you get a grabber? Can you get a shower chair? Can you find physical therapy exercises that help you regain strength or stop you from deconditioning to the degree you're able? What mobility aids might restore movement to you?

And if returning mobility is not possible at this time or ever, how can you modify your environment to support you? Can you figure out what bothers you the most about that immobility and mitigate that? If it's annoying that not being able to leave bed makes you bored, what can be within arm's reach? If it's frustrating that being too painful to move means you feel isolated from other people, can you make wherever you are more central? If pain makes having your bed on the second floor unfeasible, can you move your bed to the first floor? How can you adapt the environment around you?

I'd encourage movement too, to the degree it is possible. Being in the same position HURTS. If it feels good to stretch but you can't do it by yourself, can someone help you with range of motion? (You can look up "passive range of motion" to get an idea of how to do that.) This doesn't need to be exercising, just exploring the joy of moving your body. Related to movement is physical touch. I love lotions and medicated creams for pain patients because you can turn them into massages. Just be careful with pressure and be open about what hurts and what feels good. At the most gentle end of the spectrum is something called the M Technique which isn't even massage, it's like guided gentle touch. Give the body something else to feel.

Different medications work better with different types of pain. This part is hard to talk about in general because of the specificity of some pain med regiments. Tylenol is great, but be cautious with how much you are taking (acetaminophen overdoses are no joke) and remember that there's a point where more tylenol doesn't mean more pain relief. Opioids are great, but they can be very dangerous and aren't well-indicated for a lot of types of chronic pain. Even if opioids work best, I'd encourage you to be working on pain reduction on multiple fronts, as opioids are so controlled, it is easy to lose access to them. If opioids give you enough pain relief to do physical therapy, then make sure to do that physical therapy. Medications are amazing and I love them and I give out PRNs like crazy, but similarly to how I can't just take my depression meds and stop being depressed, pain medication works best in conjunction with other strategies. Those other strategies though can literally be something like "tramadol takes away the pain enough I can focus on something, and what I want to do with that focus is to watch a movie I've been meaning to rewatch for a while now but haven't had the spoons for." Sometimes all you will want to do when you get pain meds is sleep because you can't when you're hurting. Sleep is wonderful; how can you arrange your sleeping place and habits to make sleeping even more of a delight?

And if you find a medication that works, use it consistently. It is always easy to keep pain level than it is to address a pain spike. Don't wait until symptoms are at their worst to address them. Figure out what it feels like when your symptoms are ramping up, and intervene early.

Sometimes medications that aren't explicitly for pain can still help. If anxiety makes pain worse, consider an anxiety medication. If coughing hurts, can you get a numbing spray from your throat to make it less sensitive so you cough less?

I don't know how useful this is to you and your family. Hopefully it's at least something to think about. Think about palliative care (which is about the management of symptoms of illnesses rather than the treatment of illnesses) as not just taking away bad sensations but restoring good ones. You can't always get someone to a place with no pain. But what can you do to enhance life in the presence of that pain? There is a psychological aspect to pain, it's a parasite that drains you and makes you feel like you are nothing but a body that hurts and won't stop hurting. I want to make clear, I'm not saying pain is only in your mind. Bone mets and nerve pain exist whether you're cheerful about it or not. But pain doesn't have to mean suffering, it doesn't have to take away the things that make you you. Address pain through medication and therapies, but also remember that protecting, promoting, and prioritizing the parts of yourself that you most value and give you the most joy will help give your life so much substance that pain can't rob it all. You aren't doing one big thing. You are doing a thousand small things that make life easier, better, more suited to yourself and your abilities, and more aligned with the parts of life that you that give your life meaning.

(And a note in particular for being the family member of someone in pain--ultimately, they are going through this alone. It is their body. What can you make smoother for them? How can you protect their dignity and their privacy without making them feel abandoned or alone? How can you make it so your reaction to their pain is not part of their burden? Like for the six hundred other hypothetical questions in this endless post, the answers will be highly personal and will take time to figure out. Be patient and calm.)

[realtasagartach]

The Subtle Abuse and Manipulation in Hazbin Hotel

TW: Discussions of abuse, manipulation, and parental alienation

(Alt: The Completely Unnecessary Dick-Measuring Contest Between Two Idiots With Too Much Pride)

Hazbin Hotel has recently released its first season, and I have observations. There are quite a few things I can write about, but I’m going to focus on the fifth episode, “Dad Beat Dad” and its insert song, “Hell’s Greatest Dad” and how completely unnecessary this competition was. But also about something I don't see talked about enough.

The episode opens with Charlie freaking out over why the hotel isn’t working, and Vaggie suggests getting help from her father. Charlie is initially resistant to the idea but perks up at the thought of asking him to get her a meeting with Heaven.

Here, we meet Lucifer. And honestly, I appreciate Lucifer’s depiction in this. He’s awkward, goofy, and “Take that depression” had no right to be that relatable. I’ve read enough about how Lucifer can’t relate to his daughter because his guilt for giving free will bogged down his consciousness. And we see this very clearly in his songs. In “Hell’s Greatest Dad”, he offers Charlie to give her lavish material things and “rig the game because [he’s] the ref”. Peak “I don’t understand another’s feelings, so I’ll supplement it with material objects” kind of transactional relationship, despite Charlie wanting to connect to him on a more personal and emotional level. Something that they achieve in their second song, “More Than Anything”.

But that’s where my analysis of Lucifer will end. For now.

I’d like to focus on Alastor in this essay. Alastor comes into the episode as everyone is getting the hotel ready for Lucifer’s visit, then introduces himself with instant passive-aggression and, “You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast”. To which Lucifer says, “Nope!” insults him right back, and we get Alastor’s first swear word on this show. Hilarious.

Now, it’s clear as day that Alastor’s part in the song was just to get under Lucifer’s skin. Vivziepop even confirmed this and that Alastor doesn’t actually see Charlie as a daughter. (This video at 3:50)

Side Note: The line where Alastor tells Charlie, “You could almost call me ‘Dad’” was the creepiest part of Alastor’s character for me. I’ve had guys try that with me before, which brought up bad memories.

But this entire sequence was more than irritating Lucifer just because he didn’t know who he was. Charlie is very much a sentimental person who likes buzzwords and talking about feelings rather than material items and power. She’s literally the Princess of Hell and refuses to use her authority because “That’s so meeeaan!!!” But this makes her very naïve and susceptible to manipulations.

I’m saying that Alastor competing against Lucifer is unnecessary because there’s no reason to try and sway Charlie from getting her father’s help. Let’s assume that Alastor knew why Lucifer was there. Alastor is an Overlord. He’s right in between the Sinners and the Ars Goetia in Hell’s hierarchy. And he’s not even the strongest Overlord around. He may be consorting with royalty, but nobody respects them. He’s not gaining any power, especially after his seven-year “sabbatical”. He wants a deal with Charlie for whatever reason, so he helps her with her hotel. But even he can’t get the angels to meet with Charlie, which is what she wants.

Alastor is basically abusing Charlie. There’s emotional manipulation, singing, “I’m your guy, your day-to-day, your chum, your steadfast hotelier” and reminding her how much help he’s been to her. And then there’s the parental alienation and isolation with that “dad” line and that, “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud. They say the family you choose is better”. He’s trying to get Lucifer out of Charlie’s support system and is playing on her “daddy issues” to make her trust her more. These are classic abuse tactics to keep the abuser in power. It's not as in your face as Valentino with Angel Dust, but it's still there if you listen to the song.

As someone who is a victim of parental alienation and manipulation, coupled with what Alastor says in the seventh episode, I’m getting more and more worried for Charlie as the story goes on. I understand that the show wouldn’t have been able to progress without him, but I also wouldn’t put it past Vivziepop to make him the Big Bad.

[remotepixel]

Hey! Could I request smth where the reader is living in the avengers tower (maybe they had like a near death experience which made the avengers freak out and keep them there for their ‘safety’). Obviously with little to no connection to the outside world they start to feel isolated and depressed, so their yandere(s) gets them a pet to cheer them up.

With a focus on Tony (and maybe Steve but i don’t mind if not) and the other avengers are aware of what’s going on but either don’t see anything wrong with it or don’t want to cause any trouble.

Hi, thank you for requesting!!

TW: yandere themes + kidnapping as part of the plot.

-If the avengers are already obsessing over you, there’s no way you’re getting out of a near-death experience without a side of kidnapping. They probably already debated over the topic before (after years of constantly seeing the worse side of humanity their protective instincts were strong) and this was simply the last straw.

-Tony himself would be a big advocate for this. He’s already paranoid enough and the idea of losing you is not one he wants to consider. Although Steve would be more apprehensive, he’ll probably be convinced. He tries not to come across as overbearing, unlike another already mentioned member, so this isn’t ideal, but he would be lying if a small, overprotective part of him didn’t like the suggestion.

-On the other hand, you’re not as enthusiastic. Since you’re now under their care, you’re also isolated from everyone but them. Depending on if this was a ‘full on’ kidnapping or some weird agreement with the parents that you didn’t know of, they legally can’t, or don’t want to, let you out of their sight.

-Sure, the tower has anything you could want: your personalised room, hundreds of games for every console, an AI system that can instantly change anything to your preference, etc, etc, but it doesn’t compare to having your freedom.

-After a few weeks, you don’t seem any happier. You don’t laugh at Tony’s comments, or seem interested in whatever Steve is going on about, in fact you seem bored of them. So, time for plan B (well plan insert-letter-way-down-the-alphabet because they’ve tried countless times before this with no luck): a pet : ).

-Although seeing you happy is one of the best things for them, the undivided attention you are now giving to that pet is not.

-Tony would be the most jealous out of the two. Like, he paid for this animal, you’re not going to thank him? He doesn’t give me animal lover vibes either, so this was definitely ‘I’m doing this for you, you better be grateful’ moment (like he didn’t lock you here in the first place).

-He’d probably make one of the other avengers babysit it for an hour or two, enough time for you guys to hang out without you being distracted or missing it.

-If he’d desperate/the others aren’t around, he’d move your pet into his lab so, when you start looking for it, you’re forced to see him. He’d act all innocent like ‘wow, didn’t even notice’ but it’s clear by his ramblings about this ‘being a sign you should stay and hang’ that this is definitely his doing.

-Steve’s a bit more open. He knows you weren’t doing well before, and understands that this pet obviously means a lot to you. Instead of treating it like a common enemy, he’d use it to get close to you.

-He’ll offer to walk it outside sometimes, buy it new toys, etc. He’d probably make homemade treats and convince you to help him as a little bonding moment. I think he’d even grow to liking the pet in general, not just for you (which might give him extra brownie points).

-While this is all going on, the other avengers are conflicted. Both Steve and Tony are important (and probably the most popular) members of the team, and going against them would be difficult, even if they don’t necessarily agree. Depending on timelines (e.g. Civil war), this may even bring the two closer, and the others may not want to go back to the constant fighting.

-Either way, no matter their opinions, the other avengers don’t get in the way. They’ll help out if needed, and would likely step up if things were wildly out of control, but, if this is the way of keeping the peace, so be it.