#i just want to go a day without feeling so tired and without constant headaches and without crying Please

[spacemammal]

How About Breakfast in Bed?

Masterpost

This is my fist fanfic EVER sorry if its bad lol

I basically stole the entire idea for the inciting incident from a fanfic by Renee4567. Give it a read! here's the link:

Phantom's Hope

─ ✧ ─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─ ✧ ─

Part 1: Tired

Danny was so incredibly tired. The alarm blaring in his ears was giving him a piercing headache. Why did he even have to wake up? He reached to turn the damned thing off before his head exploded. His limbs ached and felt so incredibly heavy, he didn’t want to get out of bed. What was the point when it was just going to be the same as yesterday? He turned his head to look at the same grey walls he looked at every morning. He needed to clean his room but couldn’t find the energy. There were dirty cups everywhere that he hadn’t bothered to take back down to the kitchen. His clothes were in a scattered mess on the floor along with other junk. His homework was littered across his desk and room. None of it was complete. Why even bother doing it?

“DANNY!” his mom was calling him from downstairs. 

“COME DOWN FOR BREAKFAST!” 

He didn’t want to go. He wanted to skip breakfast, skip school, skip being shoved into his locker, and skip fighting ghosts. He just wanted to stay in bed and sleep the rest of his life away. He knew he had to leave the safety and comfort of his bed eventually. No matter how badly he didn’t want to. He dragged himself out from his warm, soft blankets and rifled through one of the shirt igloos on his floor for his binder. Getting dressed was the first step to the day ahead, so he dreaded it.

He gazed into the mirror, taking his reflection in. His hair was messy and slightly overgrown. His clothes were two sizes too big with the pants fraying at the bottoms. His under eyes were dark, accurately reflecting his tiredness. He wore long sleeves under his shirt to hide the constant injuries he got from ghost fighting. He looked like a mess, but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

He made himself go down the stairs and sit at the table. The food in front of him looked ok. He didn’t really have much of an appetite right now, but he knew he would suffer later if he didn’t eat right now. He wanted so badly to just go back upstairs and get back in bed. Instead, he looked around the kitchen and spotted the simplest thing to grab. A bagel.

“How did you sleep sweetheart?” his mom startled him with her question. 

“I slept fine.” he mumbled the words through his bites. The bread was dry and cold, but he didn’t feel like warming it up or anything. It was a miserable meal.

“I’m still really tired though”  as he said it, he looked up to see his mom already in a full on conversation with his dad about an ‘amazing idea’ to catch Phantom that she’d had. Great. Now he’d have to deal with that too. He didn’t even know why he bothered saying anything. Since Jazz left for college, this is basically how every morning went.

It was a typical day, getting shoved in a locker by dash, getting yelled at by his teachers, saving the school from another ghost, and trying not to notice how Sam and Tucker pointedly ignored him. They liked him before, hell, the teachers liked him before, but since Phantom, his grades have been dropping, his schedule’s been full. He’s learned pretty quickly that teachers only liked him if he had good grades, and his friends only liked him when he had time to actually be their friend without putting them in harm's way. So at school, he tried his best to stay out of his own head. Most of the time, that meant being on his phone. Even outside of school he was on his phone, it helped him not think so much. There were funny things that actually made him laugh. There was news that he wasn’t directly involved in. He liked to look at what the Justice League got up to, it made him feel a bit better about his decision to help. 

He was laying in his bed like usual, this time he was looking through people’s instagram stories. They were all pretty boring until one caught his eye. It was about the Justice League. It said that they were coming to Amity? He wondered why they would come to a random county in Pennsylvania, so he looked up what it was referencing. 

What. He sat straight up reading the JL’s official statement.

“We will be visiting Amity Park to investigate ‘Phantom’ as there have been multiple reports that the creature may be a potential harm to the residents.”

They were coming to investigate Phantom. Why did they need to investigate him? They should be able to tell that he’s trying to help. Those reports saying he’s a threat aren't true. He’s a hero just like them. He’s just… trying his best to help.

Well. There’s not really much he can do. He’ll just have to hope that they see past the reports. There’s no way he can handle dealing with THE Justice League on top of everything else.

─ ✧ ─

When the Justice League came, Phantom was busy. Way more busy than normal. He’d hoped to be able to catch them. If not to convince them he’s not actually evil, then to just get to see his heroes in person, but Vlad must’ve let out a ton of ghosts in hopes he wouldn’t catch a glance. So he was stuck fighting ghosts while people were telling the Justice League how much of a menace he is. They were recounting tales of how him causing property damage, injuries, and striking fear into the hearts of the innocent. All while he was fighting ghosts and trying his best to keep their town safe. 

It wasn’t helping that he had the Ghost Investigation Ward and his parents hot on his tail trying to capture him. They shot their ecto-rays right at him, even managing to hit him every once in a while. It’s like they weren’t even trying to get the other ghosts anymore, it was just him. Luckily, he was able to get most of the ghosts fairly quickly and without major injury. He was almost done capturing them all then he’d be done. Luckily the box ghost was the only one left, and he had an easy time putting him into the thermos. As he secured the thermos’s latch, he was relieved to be done. Now he just had to return them all back to the ghost zone-

There was a sudden shooting pain in his shoulder. He fell to the ground and his vision was going spotty. He pressed his hand to where it hurt and braced himself on the ground, breathing heavily. His arm was stinging with pain and could hear his heartbeat in his head. What had happened? He pulled his hand from his arm to look at it as his vision came back. It was covered in ectoplasm. Where’d that come from? He heard people yelling behind him, but couldn’t make out their words. There was another pain, this time it was more of a knick in his calf. He looked behind him to see where this all was coming from and there was his parents. He looked back at his hand as he realized, this was his ectoplasm. He was bleeding. He was bleeding really badly. His parents were getting closer, they looked like they were ready to shoot again. His head was pounding, he had to leave quickly. He pulled himself to his feet, and started to haul ass. He was tired, so he wasn’t moving fast enough to outrun them, but he was moving. He just needed to go invisible and intangible and he could escape them.

He’d finally lost his parents, so he floated his way back into his room and collapsed. As he fell to the ground, his ghost form fell with him. He took a few breaths, clutching the fenton thermos to his chest, thankful that he hadn’t lost it when he was shot. He took another second to himself before examining his injury. His wound was deep and if he didn’t patch it up soon, he’d bleed out. When did ghost tech get so painful? He took out the med kid Jazz had made for him. She always thought ahead. When she first suggested it, he’d said no, thinking he wouldn’t need it. But in times like this, he was glad she cared enough to threaten him into listening to her advice. He couldn’t do stitches or anything, but with his ghost healing, it would be ok if he managed to hold his wound together. After disinfecting the gash on his shoulder, he pinched it together and secured it closed with band-aids. He’d been pretty sure he’d seen something like that in a doctor’s video or something? Whatever. He’d finished bandaging his worst wounds when he heard a commotion outside. He slowly peeked out his window to try and see what was happening. To his surprise, there was the Justice League. They’d been trying to interview people but it looks like it turned into a meet-and-greet of sorts. He’d thought they would’ve left by now, but they were answering questions and signing autographs. Maybe he could still talk to them. He pulled on a shirt that hid his worst injuries and headed outside, not realizing he was still holding the thermos.

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

This was going on far longer than it should’ve. Bruce knew it was a bad idea to all come here, let alone announce it. Now they were being swarmed by people who wanted autographs or to ask them pointless questions. It was all getting out of hand. He knew that they should’ve gone undercover. If this Phantom is a threat, why let it know they’re coming? Batman wasn’t engaging with the crowd like the others were. He was here to help people, not be a celebrity. The crowd was a mix of people, but they were all here for different reasons. Some were just gathered to meet them. Some were complaining about the ‘ghosts’ that apparently haunt this town. As he scanned the crowd, his attention caught on a teenager approaching the group. He didn’t quite hold the same energy as the rest of them. Where other teens were enthusiastic and happy, he was hesitant, almost scared. But there was a glimmer of hope there. It was a strange mix. He was a skinny kid with black hair and blue eyes. Probably around 15 years old. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt that exposed the scrapes and bandages running along his arms. He looked tired, and he had a slight limp to his walk. In his hand he was clutching what looked like a thermos. The grip was tight, but the strangely high tech object looked comfortable in his hands. The boy opened his mouth, about to say something before he was interrupted. 

“ARE YOU GOING TO CATCH PHANTOM?!” The question came from the other side of the crowd.

They hadn’t been able to gather any real information on Phantom. Most of the people here simply didn’t like the ghoul. They had no evidence that the creature had any malintent at all.

Before Batman could answer, Superman replied  to the question with a  reassuring smile, 

“We’ll do our best.”

Why would he answer without discussing it first? They were going to have to have another meeting about this.

With Superman’s reply, the crowd around them began to cheer. There was only one among them who didn’t. The beat-up teenager he’d been observing. He looked stunned, broken even. He looked like they had just killed all of his hopes and dreams.

─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─

Danny felt like he was going to barf. Superman had really just said that they would capture him? They believed he was a threat? No. No no no no he couldn’t accept this was happening. There must be some mistake. He looks at the heroes, trying to find anything. They’re joking, they have to be. They can’t seriously believe he’s bad, right? He searches their faces trying to find any hint that he had heard them wrong, that they’re faking it, anything. He’s been trying his best, they can’t think he’s evil. They can’t. He searches each of their smiling faces and he doesn’t see any sign that what they said was anything but the truth.

They want to capture him too.

Danny feels his world crumble as he loses all of the little hope he’d had. He began to give up. What was the point? Why even bother doing this? It was volunteer work that only ever left him injured and friendless. He looked down at the thermos in his hand. The smooth metal in his hand felt so familiar. He’d worked so hard to keep these ghosts from hurting people. He’d given his blood to keep this town safe. They still hated him. He was just a highschooler who was hurt and tired and just wanted to go to bed. Yet they still hunted him. How had he ended up like this? He used to do well in school and have friends and not feel like shit all the fucking time. He used to want to live. Now he was just wishing he could go back to before he half-died. He wanted his friends back, but they all hated him now. They didn’t hate him at first, but Sam got tired of making excuses for him and constantly helping him fight ghosts. Tucker was more or less the same. They’d left him. They didn’t want to fight ghosts. They’d realized what he hadn’t. The pointlessness of his mission. All that came of him ‘being a hero’ was him getting hurt. He was in so much pain he could barely move right now. So far he’d been able to avoid the GIW and his parents and Val, but… could he avoid the Justice League? 

‘We’ll do our best.’ Superman’s words were echoing in his head. If they caught him, what would they do with him? Torture him? Kill him? He could feel his emotions bubbling up in his core. He was scared, but he felt a little more free. He wasn’t going to protect a town that didn’t want him anymore. Why had he been doing it for so long? To think that he’d fought for them, bled for them.

He laughs. It’s a hollow laugh. The crowd looked at him like he was crazy. Some people started backing away in disgust. On second thought, he didn’t think it was that funny. He was in so much pain and none of them cared. He found he was still staring at the thermos he held firmly in his hand. It was the thing he’d used over and over  and over again to save the people who were now praying for his downfall. 

“I guess I’m really not wanted here.” he said it quietly, almost a whisper, but it was still heard. He could feel his fangs peeking out from under his lips and his hair start to float as he started to lose control over his form. The sky, that was just moments before sunny and clear, was now dark and stormy. He tightened his hand on the thermos and before he’d even realized it, he pressed the button to release the ghosts. They were yelling and announcing themselves until they noticed Danny, stewing in his emotions. He stared up at the ghosts puzzling them out in his brain. He was so angry, and sad, and so many things he couldn’t sort it all. 

“Oh shit” he recognized it as Ember’s voice.

“This seems like a bad time” This one was skulker. 

Soon, all the ghosts fled, citing Danny as the reason. 

He stared blankly at the now empty thermos.

“I just… tried to help” his voice breaks as he says it. Tears formed at the edges of his eyes, but they don’t fall quite yet. Something shifted in Batman as he looked at Danny, picking his every movement apart. The rain started falling and soon you could see his red blood seeping through his bandages and his shirt, exposed by the sudden water that was now soaking him. It gave his hair and clothing back the weight that it had so recently lost. Batman took a gentle step towards Danny. He looked up at Batman, searching for something that told him that the man didn’t hate him. He found nothing. His mouth was a careful, neutral expression. The rest of his face was covered by an expressionless cowl, so he found comfort in looking at the rough pavement instead. He wished so badly to not be here. He ached for the comfort of his bed. 

“I’m just so tired.” as the words fell from his lips, he began crying. He couldn’t help it, just as he couldn’t stop himself from falling to his knees and transforming into Phantom. He heard a few gasps from the crowd that had backed far enough away to stay out of danger but still watch. His wound had reopened and it was bleeding again. He hated being so exposed and vulnerable. He was a spectacle for them all to gawk at. But he didn’t have the energy to hide anymore, so he simply sat there. Slowly, Batman swooped down towards him. Danny flinched, prepared for the worst. Instead of pain, or an attack, he felt warm, strong arms around him. He looked up and Batman, the vengeance of Gotham, had taken him into his warm cape.

“You did a good job” the deep voice that came from Batman wasn’t as cold as Danny had been expecting. His voice was compassionate and gentle. Before he had even realized it himself, Danny was sobbing uncontrollably into the rough fabric of the costume.

It was a while before he lost all energy and stopped crying. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” his voice was quiet and he still clung to the cape as he said it. 

“That’s alright.” Batman’s voice was reassuring. 

“Did I…” he paused. Ancients, he was tired. “Did I really do alright?” He was looking at the cloudy sky when he said it. Wishing he could see the stars.

BEEP BEEP BEEP! He gasped for air and sat up straight as his alarm clock pulled him from his sleep. Oh. It was a dream. 

─ ✧ ─ ✧- ☽ -✧ ─ ✧ ─

This is just the first chapter! I promise it will get less angsty. Trust

Edit: I forgot to mention, danny's like 17 in this, he just looks younger (being trans'll do that to ya)

[kathelovecatsandfeminism]

Hold me

warnings: dr robby x reader; angst; smut; pet names; fluff and comfort; p in v; unprotected sex; heavy eye contact; no use of y/n; daddy kink; age gap; I wanted SO MUCH to be curled up in Noah's lap, so this is a confession, sorry Summary: reader is very stressed and overwhelmed but robby is here to take care of her

The spelling has not been fully revised and it is always good to remember that English is not my first language, so be nice. I think that's all.

Your day had been disastrous, as had your week, those moments where you could swear the universe itself was against you. You loved your job so much, but let's face it, you didn't know how to distance yourself, too much effort for little recognition. There was a constant pressure in your eyes coming from a headache that refused to go away. You don't know when exactly, but everything seemed to be too much, too bright, too loud, too many people, too many textures and sensations. You may or may not have been a bit of a bicth to some people.

You were tired.

You also missed Michael, you had barely seen each other these days, usually you could blame his shifts, but this time it was you who was being swallowed up by the huge capitalist wheel. So ignoring the request for you to work overtime in a poorly paid academic internship, you just grabbed your things and walked out (not before taking a good shower in the building's bathroom, since they sucked your soul out of you, you could waste some water) offering some excuse, a sick grandmother or something like that.

You wanted him, you needed to see him

There was something magical about him that you couldn't explain. He always laughed when you tried, making the laugh lines around his eyes deepen. It was cute. He always seemed to know what to do. Okay, sure, years of experience as an emergency room chief develop that in a guy, but that wasn't all. He had that soft voice that made everything seem clear. His brain was always racing at a thousand miles an hour, but somehow Michael knew how to make him stay silent. That was why you were running to him.

You crossed your fingers, hoping he'd already gotten back from his shift. It was only when you got to the door that you realized you hadn't even told him about your sudden change of plans. A certain guilt settled in your chest. What if he was tired from his shift? He could very well be as much of a workaholic as you.

Yours steps were light as a cat's, passing through the living room and hallway. There was a faint yellow light coming from the room. Just the sight of it made your heart warm. Dr. Robby in his pajamas, under the covers, reading the novel you recommended, with his glasses perched on the tip of his nose.

“Hello, Doctor,” you offered, trying to be warm, but when Robby looked at you, his smile turned into a worried expression.

Did you look that bad?

Maybe, because right after that he gets up from the bed and walks towards you and holds your face in his cup, making you look up, into his eyes. That was enough to make you collapse, all the tears that were stuck and burning in the back of your throat. Like the breaking of a dam. So he does what he always does, he resolve. He hugs you tightly, lifting your feet in the air for a moment, allowing you to wet his shirt, leaning against him. And he senses your need for comfort and slowly guides you both back to the large bed in the center of the room. He sits you on his lap and you automatically curl up against him. Hands around his neck, knees raised, face hidden in the curve of his neck. He smells like home, warm and wide. Sometimes you feel like snuggling up inside his skin, does that make sense? His big hands distract you, under your shirt, not malicious, not yet, but caressing you, their warmth making you cling to the moment, to being in his arms.

You don't even notice when the crying stops and your breathing stabilizes, but he does.

"Hey, look at me, beautiful" with a reluctant moan you take a good look at him, but without tears this time. Handsome, the glasses are still there, he hates them, but you find them sexy

“Do you want to talk?” One of his hands clasps the side of your face. “not now” you try to go back to your hiding place around his neck, but he won't let you, stubborn. “so what can I do for you now, huh?” “now?” he nods “Love me” you say without thinking. He smiles “I already love you” you snort, wriggling in his lap and rubbing your face against his beard like a needy cat “I want you to hold me, I want you to make love to me” for some reason you blush with embarrassment. Robby had this thing about making you feel like a teenager in high school, all smiles and shyness. “Yeah?” his voice is husky, between smiles. The hand on your back, now more intent, goes down to your waist, it feels heavy there, warm “yeah” In a second his lips are on yours, it's slow, deliberate and deep. There's no rush in his movements, today isn't about that. His tongue enters your mouth with the same ease with which he has become a constancy in your life. You grab the fine hairs on the back of his neck When your lips are already red and swollen enough and you're short of breath, his lips move to your cheeks, your neck. He doesn't want to rush, but damn it, he's missed having you like this, so he gets bold, leaving little nibbles as he goes. Your breath catches. After sucking and biting your collarbone, his hands snake down the hem of your blouse, and you automatically raise your arms, doing the same with your sports top. Robby steps back a little, taking in the sight of you in all your glory, it's impossible not to slap him His fingertips trailed down your sides, stopping at your breasts. He seemed enchanted by them despite the number of times he'd seen you naked, until he lowered his head and gently took one of them in his mouth. He sucks and runs the tip of his tongue over the nipple, occasionally nibbling, just to make you lose your breath, he doesn't leave the other one unattended, he rolls the nipple in his fingertips. The combination of stimuli makes you arch your back, pushing your breasts more and more towards him.

He doesn't complain at all. But you do. There are too many clothes between you “take it off” you grab the hem of his shirt Then you pull away for a minute and you think you might die, grumbling against your will and before you can get back on his lap, his hands are quick to take the rest of yours off. He flips you over this time. His naked torso against your back, skin to skin, the hair of his chest tickling your back and the cold metal of his medal contrasting with the effervescence of the bodies anchoring you while one of his hands is between your legs playing with your clitoris with slow but deliberate and skillful circles applying just the right pressure, the other hand spreading and squeezing your left breast. Feels good His mouth is busy leaving kisses and nibbles from your shoulder to your ear, lingering on the last one, biting, pulling, licking and then blowing on the united point. the gray beard agitating the sensitive skin You are nothing more than a soft mass in his hands. But you want more, you need more, so you start rubbing yourself against his erection just below you, but unfortunately separated by his clothes. He notices your impatience, moans and gasps at the movement of your hips. Regaining control of the situation, the fingers that were on your clitoris move down to circle your entrance, teasing you and denying you every time, just there tempting you. He's going to give you what you want but first he whispers in your ear “daddy will take care of you, babe” and then his middle and ring fingers are inside you, curving into a hook shape, causing a loud moan to escape from you. Your brain is pure static, just Michael His hands, his skin, his breath in your ear as hot as your whole body A knot is forming in your core that Robby pulls and pulls, increasing the tension like the string of a guitar until you come. Whimpering and slurping as he just lets you ride his fingers, never easing the pressure on your peak. At the end of your descent you throw yourself against his broad chest, entropy, but still not enough. One of his hands runs wetly down your side as he rests his chin on your shoulder, watching your chest gasp and gradually stabilize

He whispers compliments “good girl” “That's it, babe” “You are so good to me, sweetheart” “Christ, you look so hot like this”

You just hum in response, wriggling intentionally on top of him. He sticks out his tongue and laughs In one fluid movement you're under him with his broad robby body between your legs. Eyes to eyes, noses almost touching, he's such a delight, your mind is already so clouded that you don't even notice when he's finished undressing. He takes your hand and leads it to his member, letting out a tense sigh, and covers yours with his, playing with the tip between your wet folds. Circling the entrance, but never actually entering, you wouldn't dare move your hand, so you move your hips so that they meet the shiny pink head of his cock Then without further ado he gives you a wet, lazy kiss as he slowly enters you, so needy your walls clench around him needing more and more. Robby closes his eyes to concentrate, you're so warm and receptive The rhythm is slow, almost lazy, but deep, to the hilt, grinding, his balls slap against your ass and the curly hairs at the base of it gently stimulate your clit, it's all very tender and the coming together of everything, “Look at me, beautiful,” he asks gently, leaning on one elbow next to your head, his face hovering over yours, sharing the same breath. With his free hand, he puts one of your legs on his hip, the other mirroring the movement, but his hand stays firmly there, leaving a beautiful mark It takes a lot out of you to open your eyes and they're addled, big and bright, at that moment there's no coherent line of thought in your mind, just michael, michael's tired eyes, michael's swollen and red lips, the sound of michael's deep thrusts hitting that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back and a scream die in your throat, michael michael michel You don't even notice when it's so loud, but it's so close and by the way you squeeze Robby, so is he. He wets his fingertips with his own saliva and travels with his hand between your sweaty bodies, they're tight, firm circles, everything becomes too much and the only thing you remember is shouting robby's name while digging your nails into his back, keeping him as close to you as you can. It takes a while for you to come to your senses. Lying on his chest, one hand strokes his hair. He notices your breathing change and straightens up to look at you “there you are”

You just smile, too tired to speak Now he looks more serious, a little worried “we should talk” “hm” is all you say “you know you look like me, that's not good” he offers with humor but concern in his voice You move up his body a little, faces closer and scatter a lot of kisses over the frown that forms on his face “tomorrow, I promise”. That seems to satisfy him. He squeezes you tightly against his chest and pulls the sheet over you, you have the quietest sleep in weeks, all by robby

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: When They Come Back

✧˚ Ghost, Keegan, Soap, König, Phillip Graves

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥Fluff for you suckers -hope you enjoy the word vomit ;(

Working under constant danger put a strain on them, at moments when it seemed like the world was nothing but shambles and havoc they’d close their eyes and remember what brought them warmth. There was a certain feeling they yearned for and were only satisfied when you were near.

There is something special in knowing someone is waiting for you.

Ghost

This man comes back completely drained; physically, mentally, emotionally…

At first, he was hesitant concerning your worry about him

“If you won’t let me take care of you, who will?”

Might be a little distant at first, it takes time for his mind to come back

No going out, at all

You say comforting phrases to him

“You’re not at war anymore, you can come home”

He’s been through a lot, a warm meal and hugs are all he needs for days afterward :(

It takes some time for him to recharge

When he feels better he lets you know much he appreciates everything you do for him

Takes time to admire you; he silently takes in your facial features

Affectionate gazes that flicker between your eyes and lips

He knows you aren’t obliged to it yet you make an effort for him and that makes him feel like he’s earned a much better reward than money or glory could give him

Keegan

Saying this man missed you is an understatement

It’s like you placed a spell on him the moment he met you

If it were up to him, he wouldn’t want to be a moment away from you

He’ll miss you in silence, won’t send letters or texts or anything knowing it’ll make his heart ache more

But when he walks through the door he falls to kissing you

Bites your lip just for the taste of you on his tongue

His lips leave yours for breaks in between intense kisses to whisper “I love you”

He feels empty without the intimacy and closeness of you

He doesn’t care what you do or don’t say, doesn’t expect anything big either, he just wants to see you with your arms open for him

Soap

No matter how bad it was this time, he always comes back with a smile on his face when you open the door

Even behind that loving smile, you catch the subtle dimness in his eyes

Peppers you with kisses all over your face

Extremely clingy

Needs to be reminded that the world can be kind and gentle

Needs you to dote excessively over him

You give him a shoulder massage as he washes up in the bathtub

Convinces you to join him

Afterward, you crawl into bed with him, cradling his head on your lap

Both of you turn into couch potatoes for a couple of days watching cozy films

König

Keeping up a stoic demeanor can be tiring, so he easily drops the poker face as soon as he buries his face into your neck

No matter how much prying you do, you won’t get him to open up about what disturbs him

He’d rather keep those horrors locked away from you, you’re his most cherished possession

A lot of quiet moments where he’s just content to be with you again

Little is said between you as tender and passionate kisses are exchanged

Don’t think he’ll leave your side for the next few days, you’re attached at the hip

As you trace the scars on his back to his shoulders, you feel his body tremble beneath your fingertips

Your touch is addictive to him; soothing him into a tranquil sleep

Phillip Graves

He’s had to deal with a lot of crap so he’s relieved to finally come back to some peace, and most importantly; you

At first, he didn’t want to overwhelm you with issues that aren’t yours, but as your relationship progressed he started opening up more

Oftentimes, he’s in an irritable mood when he comes back

You listen to him rant if that’s what he needs

Other times it gives him too much of a headache to even think about

He adores you for understanding him without words being spoken

With so many enemies he has, he feels undeserving of you, someone who’s like a warm ray of sunshine in his austere life

When he falls silent you know that’s your cue

A sort of haze entrances him as you trail soft, torturous kisses along his jaw

Your scent obscures his mind as he gets drunk on your affection

He can’t even remember what he was mad about

[defectivevillain]

a spider's day off

pairing: Wade Wilson/Reader

The reader is transmasculine (he/him pronouns). Otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used. (The reader is spider-man, because I said so.)

summary: You hate to admit it, but Wade was right. You’d rather die than utter those words aloud, but here in the comfort of your own apartment, you’re willing to acknowledge that internally. It’s a good thing you took the day off, because your headache is persistent and your cramps are returning. Coupled with the mood swings and just general irritability, you figure it was wise to follow his suggestion.  Again, you will never admit that to him. Never.

word count: 2.6k | ao3 version

author's notes: Guys this is sooooo fluffy. It’s very uncharacteristic of me. I kept second-guessing myself lmao.

This is a period comfort fic, because I’m on my period and I want to be with Wade Wilson. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. So here’s this.

Warnings: Expect mentions of menstruation, cramps, medications, heat pads, etc. Nothing too crazy—no mentions of blood or hygienic/care products.

Deadpool is… an interesting guy, to say the least. He’s loudmouthed, rude, and endlessly energetic. He isn’t a hero, but he also isn’t a villain. He’s almost constantly poking fun at you or tailing you on your patrols, but you can rely on him if there’s genuine trouble. You’re somewhat forced to collaborate with him these days—he seems to keep popping up everywhere. It’s annoying, especially on days like today, when he just can’t stop chattering. 

“Just… stop talking,” you eventually hiss, bringing a hand to your temple as it practically pulses in pain. Deadpool’s constant talking is certainly not helping your headache. He’s not actually saying anything of consequence—he’s been detailing the past few episodes of a TV series he’s watching. You’d been tolerant of it for the first five minutes, but you eventually snapped, of course. 

Now Deadpool’s staring at you and whistling exaggeratedly. “Wow, I guess spiders can be cranky,” he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Are you on your period or something?” he huffs. It’s clearly meant to be a throwaway comment, but you hear yourself respond before you can think better of it. 

“Yeah,” you mutter under your breath.

Wade is, unfortunately, observant when he wants to be—and he notices the comment. “Really?” he blinks, tilting his head at you curiously.  

“...Yeah.”

“Oh shit!” the vigilante exclaims, suddenly seeming excited. “No way. No wayyyyyy! That’s perfect!”

Well. That’s not necessarily the first reaction you were expecting. “Why is it perfect?” you squint at him skeptically. Being on your period isn’t exactly… fun. So why is his reaction so positive?

Deadpool ignores the remark. “Congrats, I’m giving you the day off from hero-ing!” he says instead, looping an arm around your shoulders. 

“What?” you ask incredulously. You’re too tired to push him off of you, instead just valiantly pretending not to notice. “That’s not how it works—”

“You can go home now,” Deadpool responds, making a shooing motion with his free hand. “The city can survive without Spider-Man for a day.”

“Wade…” you sigh exasperatedly. 

Wade turns to face you. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to fall over, Webs,” he observes, poking your shoulder.

It’s somewhat true—you’re pretty exhausted. How Deadpool noticed that while you’re wearing your mask, though… you’re not quite sure. You decide not to think about it any longer, because it’ll only make your head spin. “Fine, fine,” you eventually acquiesce. “You win, I’ll go. Just don’t wreck anything, okay?”

“Psh, please,” Wade makes a show of shaking his head. He’s rolling his eyes under his mask, you just know it. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”  

“You said that last time,” you feel the need to remind him, “and then you nearly blew up the bank.”

“Hey!” he exclaims. “That doesn’t count. That was the robbers—I was just trying to stop them.”

“And then take the money they stole,” you interject. 

“Well, duh,” Deadpool scoffs. 

You just take a deep breath. “Never mind,” you say with a shake of your head. You’re not going to deny the opportunity you’ve been given. “I’m going now. Bye.”

“Byeeeee!” Deadpool says with a childish wave. “¡Adios! Au revoir! Sayonara!”

You send a half-hearted wave over your shoulder as you leave. You suspect Wade’s still reciting goodbyes in various languages even as his voice falls out of earshot. 

You hate to admit it, but Wade was right. You’d rather die than utter those words aloud, but here in the comfort of your own apartment, you’re willing to acknowledge that internally. It’s a good thing you took the day off, because your headache is persistent and your cramps are returning. Coupled with the mood swings and just general irritability, you figure it was wise to follow his suggestion. 

Again, you will never admit that to him. Never. 

You’re settled on your couch now, wearing a comfortable shirt and sweatpants. Even changing out of your suit felt like a tedious task today. Everything is just requiring too much effort for your liking. You’re both hungry and nauseous, craving sweet but savory foods. And a lot of minor inconveniences are setting you off.

A blur of motion reaches your peripheral vision and you pause, wondering if you’re imagining things. A few moments pass and you decide to pay a haphazard glance over at the adjacent hall, expecting it to be empty. 

You’re very surprised by what you see. “Wade!” you exclaim, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden appearance. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

“Oops,” he says sheepishly. Since your interaction earlier, he’s changed out of his typical uniform—instead wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. “Your window was unlocked…?” Wade grimaces unconvincingly. 

“No, it wasn’t,” you frown, looking over to the window he came in from. The glass is gone—it’s clear he broke it. You must’ve been pretty distracted not to hear that. Then again, you had the TV on at a decent volume—not to mention, your thoughts have been elsewhere today. You suppose you’re lucky the intruder was only Wade. 

“It wasn’t unlocked,” Wade concedes, casually stepping around a jagged chunk of glass from the window. He senses your staring and rolls his eyes, picking up the glass and casually tossing it out. “I’ll blackmail your landlord into fixing that, don’t worry.” His response is so nonchalant that it almost makes you think you’re the one being unreasonable.  

“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to question. 

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment, dude,” Wade responds with a mischievous grin. Your heart instinctively sinks at the sight. That smirk always means trouble. Sure enough, Wade heads into your living room and props his head up on the back of the couch, looking down at you while batting his eyes. “I’ll be your sexy nurse. Now I just need a slutty costume…”

“Wait, what?” you sputter. “Why? I don’t need a nurse.” And certainly not one in a shitty Halloween costume. You decide to keep that part to yourself, though. A remark like that is just asking for an argument with Wade, and you don’t quite have the energy for that now. 

“You’ve saved my ass way too many times now,” Wade answers easily. “I gotta return the favor sometime. Besides, y’know, hurt/comfort, reader-insert, all the good shit.” 

…You don’t know what that last part means. 

“You’re acting like I’m going to die or something,” you huff, getting off the couch and heading into your kitchen. Wade follows at your heels, idly poking around in your fridge before grabbing a soda. (Secretly, you only buy that soda for him—but he doesn’t need to know that.) Meanwhile, you open one of the cabinets and grab your heating pad, placing it in the microwave and setting it for less than a minute.

“What are you doing?” Wade asks, tilting his head to glance at you as you start the microwave. 

“Using the microwave,” you answer matter-of-factly.  

“Hey, no, no, no,” Wade chides you, putting his soda down to place his hands on your shoulders. “I’m the nurse here; you’re supposed to sit down.”

“Wade, I’m fine,” you sigh in exasperation, secretly touched by his concern but also embarrassed by the fuss he’s making. “This happens every month, it’s nothing crazy. Relax.”

“Relax?” he says dramatically, putting a hand to his chest. There’s a slight quirk to his lips that tells you he isn’t genuinely offended by the statement. “Me? I could never.”

“But seriously,” Wade continues, looking at you imploringly, “just lemme take care of you, okay?” He sounds strangely earnest—and uncharacteristically sincere. You’re not sure why this is such a sticking point for him. You’re about to argue again, but he keeps speaking before you can. “Come on, Spidey, pleaseeeeee? I’ll be so helpful, I promise.”

You just sigh and head back to the couch, sensing this is an argument you won’t win. Wade lets out a victorious sound at your unspoken surrender. He remains by the microwave until it beeps, before grabbing your heating pad and handing it to you on the couch. 

“…Thanks,” you mumble, still feeling a bit awkward about the situation. Then again, Wade quickly literally forced himself into your apartment and took on the role as nurse. He didn’t have to do that. (The question remains, though: why would he do it?) You hold it to your lower abdomen before attempting to get more comfortable. 

And then you realize: you haven’t taken any medication to help the cramps. Damn it. You glance over at Wade, who seems otherwise occupied with studying your apartment. You shift and start to get up, only for him to turn around. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides you, stopping in front of you with his hands on your shoulders. “What do you need? I’ll get it for ya.” This attitude of his is almost endearing. It feels weirdly… intimate. You’re not usually this vulnerable with anyone. And while Wade kind of forced his way into your apartment, you have to admit: it’s nice to be cared for. 

Plus, you’ve known Wade for long enough to know he’s the most stubborn person on the planet. If he’s committed to do something, nothing will sway his decision. With that in mind, you sigh and consider his question. “Water… and ibuprofen,” you relent. “…Please.”

“Anything for you, baby boy,” Wade responds, sounding far more sincere than you expect him to. He heads back to the kitchen. 

“Wanna sit?” you offer when he returns, making sure to thank him once more before downing the pills. You feel incredibly awkward having him around while you rest on the couch. 

“Hell yes,” Wade responds enthusiastically, moving to sit on the cushion next to you. You watch the movement for a second, raising a brow. 

“I don’t bite,” you huff, watching as he sits a good distance away from you. The remark comes out before you can realize the implications of it.

“Aw, are you touch-starved, Spidey?” Wade grins, looking over to meet your eyes. Damn it, he saw straight through that. “That’s adorable.”

“Shut up,” you scoff, immediately regretting every single action that led to this moment: Wade on the couch next to you, you willingly inviting him to come closer. What is wrong with you?! 

Wade isn’t making fun of you for it—not really. He’s the teasing type, of course. But he isn’t genuinely judging you. In fact, since you pointed it out, he’s been slowly migrating across the couch towards you. “Come on, you know you wanna cuddle with me,” Wade continues, leaning closer with a smile. “Besides, you’re all hunched up over there.” 

You choke on an annoyed groan, struggling to decide your next move. Eventually, you abandon the rest of your dignity and sidle up to his side. To his credit, Wade doesn’t stiffen or flinch—he only pulls you closer and wraps an arm around your waist. 

You lean your head on his shoulder and keep silent for a moment, before coming to a realization. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?” you ask. 

“Nope,” Wade responds shamelessly, a smirk on his face. “The big bad spider gets all cuddly when he’s tired. So cute.” 

“Shut up.” Your default response in this situation is just to brush off his teasing. It’s a defense you’re both familiar with. Wade seems to be expecting you to say something along those lines, because he just laughs. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asks sometime later, mercifully letting the subject drop. For a moment, you can almost convince yourself that this is normal. It’s a bit difficult to get over the inexplicable conviction that you should be embarrassed, though. 

You forget about Wade’s question until he’s gently nudging you. “Eh,” you say noncommittally. “Tired, mostly.” Emotional too, but it’s usually better not to talk about that. It’s a somewhat unfounded feeling, not necessarily triggered by anything specific. Usually this melancholy comes and goes, eventually fading within a few days. If you keep yourself distracted, you can usually forget about it.

As time passes, you can’t help but relax and lay on his chest. If Wade is bothered by your sudden clinginess, he doesn’t say anything. You’re sure you’ll be super embarrassed by this clingy behavior in the next few days, but right now, it feels nice to have someone next to you. Besides, as much as Wade likes to tease you, he’s still a good guy. He wouldn’t actively try to torment you about this. 

Plus, it certainly doesn’t seem like he minds. You suspect, idly, that he likely needs this human contact as much as you do. The two of you don’t get close to very many people, on account of your secret identities. It’s too dangerous. But times like this make you remember the friends you used to have, the people you used to love. 

At some point, Wade’s other hand cradles your face, his thumb dancing across your cheekbone before stopping at the scar running down the side of your face. It’s relatively faded now, but from a close distance like this, you’re sure he can see it. 

“How’d ya get this?” he asks, his finger tracing the mark back and forth. 

“Dr. Octavius,” you answer.

“The octopus guy?” Wade blinks. 

“Yeah,” you confirm.  

“Huh,” he remarks, studying the scar for another minute. “Thought it’d be a little more… scandalous.”

You blink in confusion, still very much aware of his hand on your cheek. It’s making you feel weirdly nervous. You try to refocus on the conversation. “What, like a suction mark or something?” you huff. “His tentacles are robotic,” you remind him. 

“Yeah, a lil’ robo hickey!” Wade exclaims, sounding a bit too excited at the thought. At your disbelieving look, he says defensively, “Come on, that’d be sick.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “That’s ridiculous.” 

The two of you talk about harmless things for a while longer, before you feel your eyelids begin to burn from fatigue. You’re rather comfortable, your muscles slowly relaxing as you start to lean on Wade. It’s growing more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. The ibuprofen finally seems to be kicking in, which is fighting off the cramps you were feeling earlier. Now, the pain is ebbing away—leaving exhaustion to take its place. 

Sensing your tiredness, Wade trails off mid-sentence. Or, at least, you think he does—it’s kind of hard to tell. It’s been weirdly difficult to focus your attention throughout the past few minutes. 

“Sorry,” you blink, trying to remember where he left off. “What were you saying?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Snorlax,” Wade hums, his hand starting to rub your back. 

“You’re not helping me stay awake, you know,” you mumble.  

“I know,” Wade responds smugly. Then the smirk on his face softens. “You shouldn’t fight it; you need to rest.”

That’s true, but… “I don’t want to trap you here,” you remark, moving back slightly to glance at him. 

“Oh, I really don’t mind, sweetheart,” Wade reassures you, gently tugging you back towards him. “It’s not every day I get a cuddly, cooperative Spider-Man. Gotta take advantage of it.” 

You can’t exactly find fault with that, and you’re too tired to argue the point further. Instead, you just lean into him again and close your eyes. Wade’s hand falls still on your back, a steady reassurance of his presence. 

“Night night,” he says quietly. (Or, at least, as quietly as Wade Wilson can manage.) “I’ll be here to watch over ya, fight off those birds in your nightmares.” He punctuates this remark with a squeeze to your shoulder. “Birds? Wasps? What are the enemies of spiders? Humans and their shoes…?”

You would roll your eyes at him if you weren’t already falling asleep. Wade shifts, grabbing the blanket and ensuring that it’s fully draped over you. You fade too quickly to notice the fond expression that rises on his face.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

endnotes: GAWDDDDDD i need this man biblically. *viscerally,* even.

Did Wade change out of his suit so that he could cuddle with you? Methinks yes… Mwahahhaa…

also, huge shoutout to my bestie @connorhasabigtip for calling me yesterday and helping me write this. we were silent on call for a full hour, with me writing and her reading 😭 we'll find you your brown cowboy one day, bitch. looking forward to being badasses in fortnite again today. (she's the Sith and I'm the Jedi, in case y'all were wondering.)

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you @moss4ev3r @hottskull

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[dandylovesturtles]

Decided to write a quick little something for @whumperless-whump-event Day 4: chronic pain/"I'm used to it."

featuring, of course, Sidelined Leo!

like I said before, since it's disability pride month I'd like to do a few things for the Sidelined AU, so hopefully I will find time for more as the days go. For now, I hope you enjoy this!

-----

Leo can tell it's going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up.

The pain in his arms and legs has grown from it's constant dull thrum to a more present burn, and there's a pinch between his eyes that tells him a headache is on the way. Really, he's not surprised; the last few days have been really good. He even went out on a mission two days ago, and did a little skateboarding yesterday. It stands to reason that his body has crashed out on him.

Sometimes he feels angry and bitter about it. Today, he just feels a sort of resigned acceptance. And that means maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

He hits the button on the side of the bed so it bends him into a reclined position, then fumbles around on his side table until his hand lands on his pill organizer. He should probably text someone to bring him water, but it feels like a pain, so he dry swallows them one by one and just resolves not to mention doing that to Dad or Raph.

Then he finally blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks around his room and... darn it, his chair isn't here. Where'd he even leave it...

His memory is a complete blank on that one, so he sighs and clears his throat.

"Hey, Shell-man?"

There's only a second of silence before Shelldon's voice echoes from who even knows where. Donnie rigged his new room with more electronics than Leo will ever know about.

"S'up bro?"

"You know where my chair is?" he asks, like Shelldon can't track it instantly.

"You left it in the arcade, dude," comes the answer. "Want me to wheel it over?"

Yeah, no way he's getting himself to the arcade today. "Sure, thanks, Shelly."

"No problem, dude!"

Leo lets his head flop back on his pillows while he wants for his chair to be delivered. He fumbles around for his phone this time and takes a look at his reminders.

6:00 PM: Concert with Mikester

"Crap," he mutters, closing his eyes. Right, that yokai hip-hop group Mikey wanted to go see. Leo had promised he'd go with him, but he doubts he'll be able to do it now.

It's not that big a deal. Raph or Donnie will probably go with him if Mikey makes big enough puppy eyes at them. It's just, Leo had been kinda excited about it, too...

The dark buzz that heralds his anxiety flares up, and he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slow. He doesn't want this day to turn terrible. He needs to relax and accept the things he can't change, like April always says. Even when it sucks.

There's a whir of electronics that signals the arrival of his chair. Leo waits until it parks itself next to his bed, then he swings his legs over the bed and stands up just long enough to sit down in the chair again. Even that leaves him feeling a little winded, but he doubts his arms could have handled the transfer so he doesn't bother trying.

He wheels around his room until he finds his big comfy unicorn hoodie, then drives out into the rest of the lair, making his way up the ramp to the kitchen. He can smell breakfast cooking, and hear Raph's voice.

"Morning fam," he says as he comes in, trying to keep his voice upbeat even though he already feels tired.

"Morning Leo!" Mikey echoes, turning around with a whole plate of waffles. His smile falters a little when he sees the chair and the hoodie. "Oof. Flare up?"

"Yeah," he admits, steering his chair into the empty part of the kitchen table. Mikey sets the waffle plate down, and without having to be asked Raph starts fixing some for Leo, with blueberries on top.

It took work for them both to find the line between helping and babying, but they're better at this now. Leo doesn't mind Raph helping him out this way, especially because he'd rather not make a mess of the kitchen table.

"Mikey, can you grab my fat fork?"

"It has a name," says a tired voice behind him, and Leo smirks as Donnie comes around the side and makes for the coffee machine.

"I just used it. It's the fat fork."

"It's a GeniusBuilt Secure Grip Adjustable Fork-"

"I'm not saying all that."

Donnie huffs. Mikey snickers, swinging around him to deliver the fork with the thick grip to Leo. He has another set with a loop that can secure to his hand if he needs it, but this one is fine for now.

"Here!

"Thanks Angelo."

"Did you take your meds this morning?" Raph asks.

"Yes, Mom," says Leo, rolling his eyes as he cuts off a bite of waffle.

"Really? 'Cause Raph didn't hear you ask anyone to bring you water-"

"I had some leftover Gatorade in my room," Leo lies quickly.

"Uh-huh." Raph looks at him skeptically. "Leo, you know taking pills without water hurts your throat."

"Meh meh meh, you'll hurt your throat," Leo repeats in a mocking voice. Raph reaches over like he's going to cuff Leo on the head, then seems to rethink it and steals some of his blueberries instead. "Hey!"

"You are all so noisy already," comes Splinter's voice, and he finally comes into the room to join them, wearing the robe he slept in. He looks up at Leo in his chair. "Are you in pain, Blue?"

Leo hums an affirmative. "It's not that bad, though," he adds, because it's not. Comparatively.

Now it's his dad's turn to look skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Leo grimaces. "It's... a little worse than normal," he amends. "But I can handle it."

"Mmm..." Splinter walks off to get in his own seat. "Let us know if it gets worse."

"Yeah, yeah..."

The conversation moves on to other topics, up until Leo's wheelchair beeps at him. He groans, glancing down at the battery indicator, which is firmly in the red.

"You forgot to charge it, didn't you?" asks Donnie, looking amused.

"Shut up, I've been busy!" Leo snaps back.

"If you left it on the charger when you aren't using it then this wouldn't happen."

"Alright, anyone else have any criticisms for me today?" he says, except it comes out a shade too bitter and Donnie's grin falters.

Good job, Leon, way to be a dick. He winces, focusing again on his waffles. His arm is sore from the effort of eating and he wants to crawl back in bed and stay there, which is exactly the sort of attitude he's been trying to avoid.

"...I have the backup chair in the lab if you need it," says Donnie. A peace offering.

"Thanks," says Leo, returning it.

So after breakfast, Donnie helps him swap chairs. His main one is put on the charger and he wheels himself to the living room with the backup, then calls for Raph.

"Think you can help me get comfy, big guy?" he asks.

"Of course," says Raph with a grin. "What do you want?"

It's nice that he asks now, instead of assuming.

Leo directs him to help him onto the couch, then Raph gets him his fluffy blue blanket to cover him up. Even though he took his meds, he can feel the pain radiating at his hips and knees and he guesses he's going to need more later. He sets an alarm on his phone and settles in with a Jupiter Jim flick to fall asleep to.

He's not out yet when he hears the pad of feet, then feels the couch dip as Mikey sits next to him.

"Hey Leo," he says softly, and Leo gives a hum to let him know he's still awake. "You think... you're gonna feel up for the concert tonight?"

Oh right. Shoot. It had already slipped Leo's mind, and now he feels guilty all over again.

He opens his eyes and tilts his head so he can see Mikey. "I don't think so. I'm sorry."

"You don't gotta apologize!" says Mikey quickly. "I'm sorry you're having a rough day."

"It's fine," says Leo. "I'm used to it."

"I'm still sorry," says Mikey firmly. He gets up, then comes over so he can give Leo a very awkward couch hug. "I wish you didn't have to hurt," he says, sincerely.

Leo leans into the hug. Feels the dark buzz of anxiety ebb away.

"Hey, it's alright. All you guys make it easier."

Mikey beams at that, bouncing back up. "Hey, I know," he says. "I'll get Donnie to help me set up a sweet livestream so you can see the concert from right here!"

They don't have to go to all that trouble for him. But Leo looks up at his little brother's shining smile and can't say no.

"That'd be really cool," he says, and Mikey claps his hands.

"Yes! Okay, I'll go get Dee and we'll get on it!"

He races away. Leo chuckles, curling up under his blanket.

Maybe it won't be such a bad day after all.

[werezmastarbucks]

interlude: you and 7

U N7 masterlist

word count: 5504

warnings: alcoholism, self-destructive behaviour, Yoongi is in a bad place. time skips; it's a filler chapter for Yoongi's pov while you are in Busan

music: back to me by the rose

february 25th missed call, 12:00 missed call, 12:10 february 26th missed call, 10:20 missed call, 11:00 missed call, 17:41

february 26th, 22:00 no gym? what's going on

march 2nd, 18:35 y/n, can we talk? march 2nd, 19:00 if i did something wrong, please let me know. give me a call march 7th, 10:00 hey, it's weird not having English, i just got used to studying again

march 9, 12:09 i seriously am okay with dealing with whatever you're going through. i just want to understand what happened. it's not fair you speak with everybody but me march 15th, 21:39 how do you choose pears? why do i always buy the green ones

march 16th, 02:40 can i call you april 11th, 16:00 how are you? april 11th, 16:23 i just don't get it

may 24th, 04:50 i am really sorry

june 11th, 12:42 Seokjin is still complaining about the fruit. we miss you. but you probably know that

june 14th, 23:07 can you please text me back. please. i am sorry. we're leaving

2nd of March

Yoongi takes off his hat and ruffles his hair free.

"what do you mean?"

"you know how trains work?" Taehyung seems like he's about to bite him. it's all fine, the last week has gone under the flag of emergency. something snapped, maybe you had a mental breakdown, everybody was a little spooked. but it's a little rich that, of all the people, Taehyung is for some reason angry with him exclusively. the boy and his constant misplaced irritation. Yoongi is trying to find someone who will explain it to him. preferably, like he is dumb. what do they mean, y/n took the train to Busan and left. without even saying goodbye?

Yoongi never says goodbye because he hates goodbyes. because he never wants to part for good. he suspects your lack of goodbye was of different nature.

he goes home at the end of the day distraught, confused, with a headache. the doctor told him in the morning, you need to stop drinking. tough luck, buddy, he is dying soon it seems like. Yoongi picks a bottle out of the cupboard and drinks in silence, staring at the dark screen of his huge tv, his phone lying dead on the couch next to him. he is a little alarmed, flabbergasted, mute. the shadow twin in the reflection moves his arm up, bringing the glass to his mouth, as he is trying to pretend he doesn't have a clue.

well, disappointment is nothing new in his life. neither is anxiety. he could call you himself, but he sees his messages falling into nothing, not even a 'read' mark below, and he feels so fucking. tired of this. how many years has Riko tormented him? he would call her in moments like this, when she treated him to silence. toxic, capricious challenge. only to be cut off again. she would pick up, listen to him for a second, and hang up. no more. Yoongi isn't dramatic, he isn't desperate, he just wishes things were clearer. there's still something that keeps eluding him. every time he thinks about you, a feeling similar to gaping hunger hits the upper part of his stomach. like failing to catch something that's been flying straight to his face.

fine.

it's nothing. maybe you're sparing him of the crazy. you've always been kind of a wild card. happy one day, depressed the next one. it is intriguing as much as a warning. no, Yoongi thinks, he's had enough crazy. he hates himself for that, but Riko, whom he doesn't love anymore, thank god, keeps occupying his thoughts like an example he keeps coming back to. sometimes in our lives we meet such atrocious people that they become even more than a running anecdote we keep telling everybody. a life lesson. exhibit a. the bitch who shredded his heart, plucked all his nerves one by one and then cheated on him. now she keeps texting. everybody keeps texting him, except for you. he is overtly polite with her but barely responds anymore: it's becoming a burden. but she was a useful lesson in dealing with crazy. if you are that, maybe it's good that you're gone because he doesn't want to go through all that again.

deep down Yoongi knows you're not like Riko. where she was cold, you were always warm. even snapping your sharp teeth at him, protecting your boundaries, you were kinder about it. you never treated him like he was less than. no, no, you were not crazy, but something crazy has been happening to you, for sure. and everybody seems too fucking arrogant to talk to him about it. Yoongi feels like a complete idiot the whole March, feels like he is the only one who is kept in the dark. maybe he is imagining things.

the others start looking at him weird. half of them, with pity, the others, Jungkook and Taehyung, like he's done something wrong. has he? did he say something that would warrant you to get all your stuff and move to another city? was it the stalker, he panics for a moment? the word is, no. the stalker has been inactive lately.

the rehearsals get so intense as June approaches, that he barely has time to think, let alone have enlightening conversations with them. Hoba is irritated, but that is a norm when the deadline is close: he is always nervous, even if things go well. barks at them all the time, massaging his forearms that go numb when he practices for eleven hours straight. this year the training is hard for all of them, even Jungkook and Jimin. drippers are brought to the studio. age is age, there's nothing to do about it. their bones recall the pains of two thousand thirteen, when they would sleep on the floor of the dance studio because they'd get so exhausted that the idea of taking the bus to the dorm made them sob. now it's almost the same. minus the sleeping on the floor. this whole spring feels like a dark urge, like something bad is coming. like they will fail. all they speak about is how they need to fix the choreo; and then Jungkook loses his voice, a month before the tour. loses it to the point where he can't produce a sound for a whole week. the doctor tells them it's a combination of exhaustion, drinking and stress. they are all forbidden from drinking until June, strictly. and it gets even worse. fights. physical fights: Jimin's temper gets the best out of him when Jin can't memorize four simple steps. he lashes out because he has to repeat the same pirouette two hundred times, and is getting dizzy. Namjoon rushes in to shut him up, and Jimin lashes at him, too. Jungkook would get involved but he can't speak. Taehyung gets angry at everybody, but delegates all his rage onto Yoongi for some reason. they end up taking an hour long break and find out there's no place to go from the studio: there's either the kitchen or out the window. Yoongi contemplates the latter. they haven't had such explosive quarrels in many years. they all thought they were past that. but this has been the worst spring in years, as well. and for him, Yoongi knows why. he allowed himself to fall in love again, only to get screwed over, again. and he feels so dumb about it, and he definitely doesn't need Taehyung's attitude adding up to the whole pile of shit.

the boy is of other opinions. he chuckles without any smile in his mouth, looking directly at him. his hand squeezing a pear that's too unripe and green to eat. nobody cuts their fruit into cubes anymore. nobody does their dishes anymore; Jimin had to call Nari and beg her to come round and do it from time to time, call Yuna, they will pay money, because the dishes grow in the sink. nobody yanks them away once a day to relieve them of the stress and tell them how smart, and good, and superb they are.

23th of May

"...and it's somehow my fault?"

Taehyung keeps pulling his mouth to the sides. maybe he thinks Yoongi can't yell back? forgotten that he, also, has a temper? just because he is patient doesn't mean Yoongi is ready to deal with their fucking characters all the time.

"it is fully your fault".

Namjoon snaps his jaws in a warning, sighing, but doesn't say anything yet. he looks like a thought it cooking, but his stove is only half on.

"care to explain that?"

Taehyung taps the pear on the table like it's an egg that needs to be cracked.

"really? are you not done playing dumb, Yoongi?"

it's very rarely that they will omit the 'hyung'. it stings more than he is ready to admit. Yoongi likes to be loved. when maknaes "forget" to use the affectionate term, it's very mean.

"you", he points his finger at Taehyung, "always keep talking like i am supposed to be in on a secret, but i have no fucking idea. are you not tired of always pretending you're the smartest in the room?"

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with his knees spread so wide that he takes up half of the room at once. Jimin is hiding behind the fridge door, his ass sticking out.

"Taehyung, it's not always so simple", he hoots from there. his soft comment is ignored completely.

"you have no idea. no, it's really epic", Taehyung exhales, his chest shaking, "you have no idea she loved you for seven years that you knew her? you'll tell me you had no idea? or you pretended not to notice?"

everything goes quiet. the spider nest erupts, and the nasty, black venom spreads everywhere. Jungkook's face goes pale, his eyes stare through space. he'd be screaming if he had voice. Jimin stands up, looking at Taehyung, and lets go of the fridge door.

"the fuck is wrong with you?" he asks quietly.

"huh?" Taehyung fences. he is slowly going livid, his neck is quite pink at this point, "we'll tiptoe around this forever? how long are we supposed to pretend nobody knows?"

Yoongi crosses his arms on his chest because he doesn't know what else to do. it looks more like he is trying to cover himself.

"what did you say?"

Taehyung finally leaves the pear alone, and it rolls across the table and stops at the edge.

"she's been in love with you", he says, clearly, cruelly. "i dare you to tell me you didn't know".

"i thought it was just a crush".

Jungkook's mouth twitches. he still avoids looking at anyone, chewing on his lip.

"not a lot going on in that head of yours", Taehyung concludes, "honestly it's pathetic with you two. movie classic. right person, wrong time, right?"

Yoongi slowly looks across the room, taking in the faces. Jungkook lifts his eyes and stares him down, and the things slowly start making sense. all of it. like the veil drops. like it's not elusive anymore. he's been copying a picture from memory, but was a few meters off. he thought you weren't ready, that there were other factors, that this job burned you out. he thought, he thought things. he was protecting himself.

"you all knew?" he asks quietly.

Jungkook and Jimin exchange glances and say nothing. Jiminie looks like he is trying really hard not to blame him, but does anyway. it's enraging. it's him against all the others: even Namjoon glances at him like he kicked a puppy.

"seriously?" he presses. "i am the bad guy?"

"nobody's the bad guy", Namjoon inserts quickly. he is pressing himself into the wall. "listen, it's nobody's fault. we're not sixteen".

"if we were sixteen", Taehyung puts his thumb straight into the bleeding cut and presses, "she would've been nine when it started. that's how long".

Jungkook tries to say something, and Jimin shushes him to protect the voice. but nothing comes out anyway; it's a purely psychological condition now. only air.

"this is a bit stupid, isn't it?" Yoongi utters, still observing them. the hatred he feels as of now, although it won't last, is refreshing. "coming from you. are you angry about y/n or yourself?"

Jungkook's face darts to him, unbelieving he just went there. Taehyung, however. is impressive. he smirks at the jab, it slides off him like water off a feather.

"look at me", V offers, "and tell me you never had any idea she was suffering".

that's the point. finally, the words that he needed to hear, that explain the mood. the suffering. Jimin grabs his elbows.

"i never had any idea", Yoongi confirms, his chest clutched for a second. "i thought she liked me, fine. it was never a problem".

what he means is, you were never a problem. Taehyung sniffs through his nose.

he was, in fact, so proud of himself. he was so happy he had all that space and gradually made his way to you. was thinking how neat it all was: you being always there, the friend that was never stingy with support. after the mistakes he made with Riko, it almost felt like fate; the love for you felt like an endless summer that's always waited for him. he had no idea how sorely he was mistaken. how far off he was. spectacular irony.

"we're not fighting about it", Namjoon hammers in his ordering voice. the voice that they usually don't argue with. "you two. shake hands. now".

only Namjoon can command them around like this. the fact alone that he needs to resort to it means the situation is drastic. Jungkook rubs his eyes with the tips of his fingers.

"i will shake his hand when he stops being a coward and fixes it", Taehyung replies. Namjoon sucks the air through his teeth sharply, but Jimin suddenly chimes in:

"no. no fixing".

they are all startled by it. but Jimin knows what he's talking about. it hits Yoongi like a hammer: he would always race through Seoul to be with me and bring food when i was breaking down; he can hear your voice like it's saying the words right into his ear. he can see your face, in his mind, smiling with such affection, cheeks a little flushed after the workout. Jimin has been the one who consoled you when you suffered.

because of me.

the realization that he made you ache tastes like flowers dying. it's like winter clutch. it's weakening. there's no point being defensive about it. he fucked up, whether intentionally or not, it doesn't matter. wow, he fucked up so bad.

"what?" Taehyung asks, his eyes on Jimin. suddenly, they all start understanding Jungkook's silent language. maknae shakes his head up and down, and then his palm slaps the table. it's a question: why not?

"Yoongi does nothing, i forbid it", Jimin sounds like a father. like he is five feet tall. his stare is direct. it's protective.

"you leave her alone".

all of a sudden, Joon snaps. his hand grabs Taehyung's neck, making him ouch with surprise, and drags him forward like a kitten. before Yoongi can do anything, as if he can do anything, he sees his leader's cougar face, jaws pressed together, and feels the painful grab just below the back of his head.

his forehead crashes into Taehyung's nose, and the boy yelps with pain this time. Namjoon refuses to let go, pressing them together like sock puppets.

"get your shit together before i make you kiss on the mouth", he grunts, then abruptly releases their necks, and Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut.

they make up with effort. it's creaking at first, but the catharsis of the moment facilitates the onset of peace. in a week, Jungkook starts speaking again, and Hoba becomes a little more relaxed, and May ends. they come out on top: they always do. it's always hectic and unsure, but they are Bangtan Boys. they've been through much worse.

─────────────────────────────────────

August

the tour comes and goes, and they come back home to hot, moist, choking Seoul, polluted streets and feeble greenery framing the housing districts, the hills and salty heat of the asphalt.

Lee Nayoung contacts him with a song request. correction: attempts to contact him with a song request. Yoongi is drowning in alcoholism after the tour, while he has the holiday, soaking at home, cradling his sore limbs, sleeping off the mounted jetlag. the first week he ignores people's calls completely so that Vicky has to come over and bang her fist on the door with the force of a SWAT team. Yoongi reminds her through the small crack of the door that he is on hiatus. he has earned this vacation with his hard work. Vicky lets him know he has been overstaying it a week already. Yoongi has lost around eight extra days barricading at home, emptying bottles and torturing the piano. he checks the calendar and thinks she is lying, the clocks are lying, and the time is lying. it's been a year you've been gone, and he still checks his phone in case you called. the disgust he experiences for himself is so strong that Yoongi gets sober, cleans up and gets ready the next day. he cuts his hair, washes all his clothes and takes the trash out. the embarrassment. people have been waiting on him, and Vicky was the only one brave enough to shove his nose into his own shit. Yoongi contacts Lee Nayoung back and apologizes. she says she wants a song about broken love. so funny! she recently went through a tough breakup; left with the feeling of regret, she claims. Yoongi has just the song for her, he promises. shit, he has a full album. take your pick.

Nayoung picks him.

she picks him up when he falls asleep in his chair at the studio, and puts a small pillow under his head and turns off the light.

she picks up the takeout for him and brings the food when they work.

she picks up the empty soda cans he keeps leaving around, and throws them in the trash.

she picks up on his habits and comes a little bit later in the morning to always give him some time to start the engine in his brain. Yoongi can't seem to gather himself completely, and once she picks up on that, too. she never wears pants, her soft femininity assuring, calming, self-sustained. she simply tilts her head and narrows her misty-dark eyes, and Yoongi feels as if she's reading his mind.

"your writing has been erratic", she notes. he nods and scratches his elbow. his phone lights up, and the piercing habit zips his ribs, the reflex at this point. y/n? no... someone else, again.

"it hits raw when it's real", Nayoung continues. Yoongi's neck goes numb because he has been stooping again. he winces, massages his shoulders.

"yes, last year was strange".

"i don't need to know to empathize", she shrugs, simply. Yoongi gazes at her and all his insides go cold. he looks at her round shoulders, parted lips with masterfully injected filler looking natural and tasty.

"so, you mean good erratic?" he specifies. Nayoung nods and approaches, her gaze friendly. there's no deceipt to her demeanor. the girl is very down-to-earth. what she says is what she means. she moves the pieces of paper around.

"although we need to change some of the adjectives, or it's going to sound like i was in love with a girl who smelt like green tea".

they both stare at the empty sound booth where she's supposed to be. instead, her hand lies on his shoulder and squeezes lightly. i don't know, but i care. it's the same gesture he extended you, forever ago. and it's such a small thing, such a rare human favour, that Yoongi feels drained again. he gives in, drunk, irritated, disappointed. he knows what he is doing is terrible. but he allows Nayoung to love him. allows her to take care of him until he is capable of moving on his own at least. allows her to believe he feels the same. lets her onto his lap, making the old chair squeak, and lets her part his lips with hers, and closes his eyes.

he goes back to that January when you listened to the new album: same studio, same chair, he's even wearing the same t-shirt accidentally. that's what was supposed to happen; as Nayoung's mouth is licking his, he suddenly gets a hint of strawberries on his tongue. he pushes away gently, staring at her, and she reads his mind.

"lip balm".

fake fake fake fake fake fake

at least she is there. at least she isn't distant, or crazy, or unstable. she doesn't push him away - she pulls him in. Nayoung brings plants into his house and places them in the most random places, finishing the cosy look, and makes Yoongi water them on time and fertilize them. Nayoung accepts the songs he writes for her, making her corrections gently, with caution. she slices his fruits in cubes and carries her phone in a funny, clunky case that she swings around like a mini-bag. she is nice, perceptive, kind. she is too soft with him, like the opposite of Riko. whatever he asks for, she does, and she balances her life with his with the mastery of a gymnast. the summer and autumn they spend together are calm and nurturing like graveyard soil, rich in juices and worms. Yoongi is slowly thriving, sucking the life out of her like a vampire half-way out of the casket, and Nayoung resides in this delusion that if she tries hard enough, she will make him forget. she never catches him staring at her.

she catches him sending you a happy birthday message, though. it's not long, just one line, but she asks why Yoongi keeps apologizing. like she hadn't heard the fucking song. they are, all of them, a bunch of cretins living in their bubble labyrinths they've built themselves. Jungkook lying to himself he never loved you. Taehyung lying to himself he stopped loving Jungkook. Yoongi lying to himself he is going to move on, tomorrow, tomorrow, and Nayoung lying to herself she didn't propose to him out of fear. her sudden request was so rash, almost shocking. like she was in a hurry to settle him and lock him away. click the handcuffs closed. January saw Jimin and Nari's anniversary. and Yoongi and Nayoung's slow, unpleasant fallout. and Riko, again.

"i made a mistake. it has always been you".

Yoongi blinks. he is groggy, heavy, holding himself against the table with his arms. it's the last thing he wants to see so early in the morning. he hisses dismissively, amused, and Nayoung turns her head.

"what?"

"nothing".

he can feel her eyes touching his forearm, then climb up and settle on his face. Yoongi looks at her pretty lips and thinks of unrequited love. humanness is so dumb, he ponders. always with some bullshit holding him back. phone vibrates again, and his gaze drops.

"call me, Yoon"

he begged for the same thing, too, he recalls. you can't always get what you want. he blocks her number, finally after all this time, to spare himself of at least one of the interferances. he raises himself with an effort, breathing full lungs of air, and starts noticing how messy the living room is. clothes lying around, wrappings of packages, tools, furniture moved sideways. he wants a cleanse.

and a divorce. because Nayoung is a good person who's been trying to mount the wrong person. god knows why she chose him specifically in her soul purifying trip, but Yoongi doesn't question things anymore.

Jimin says you live surrounded by fruit trees and the strait, and Yoongi craves to be by your side, listening to the waves and looking at the yellow of Busan streets. the year that's passed was his karma, it's been the year of falling deeper into depression, into love. he is searching for your eyes in everybody he looks at but he never calls because he is horrified of making it worse.

Jimin had told him everything. he came round back in August, while they were reeling after the tour still, going back to work slowly, carefully and lazily. sitting on his couch with a bottle of strawberry beer, he had mercy on his hyung, telling him about what the slumber parties were about. what the karaoke was about. how you sometimes hugged him for too long, too tightly, clearly wishing he was Yoongi. Jimin sent him a link leading to a playlist that clearly meant something to you, but nobody knew exactly why. funny how Yoongi could read it like a poem. songs that reminded you of him. some of them you mentioned during lessons, some you listened to together, and some are of his own creation.

"SUGA's interlude", you'd always beam, "is my spring song. it sounds like riding a bike in new shoes through the park, nineteen all over again". you'd always get so shy every single time you spoke to him about his music. about him. he always took it as dismissal.

he always underestimated absolutely everything about you. in awe of how dumb he was. he never listened to you just closely enough, because if he had, he would've heard you. but at first, there was Riko, then there was the getting over Riko, and then there was the train to Busan. the boys aren't actually angry with him, not anymore. but, he is.

he takes Nayoung's heart that should never have been in his vicinity and squashes it dead. she takes nothing: not the house, not the car, not the plants, she just disappears. calls him names, of course. not harsh enough, in his opinion. if Yoongi were to dissect this short relationship, he'd say Nayoung's fault was being spectacularly stupid. even a complete idiot would see what she was getting into, that it was a case of doom. now, she is forever smeared with "prod. by SUGA" and can't shake it off. it's like shooting someone down and kicking them when they are on the ground. Yoongi is glad he never ended up making a whole album with her.

what he ends up doing, is getting himself into the hospital.

July

Taehyung is really mean at times, but everybody knows that he is a softie at heart. all his attitude is the result of the passionate desire to constantly keep everybody intact. Taehyung needs people that he loves, around him at all times. he is anxious. he hasn't been angry with Yoongi since that one fight at the studio. Taehyung's been uncharacteristically nice, maybe out of the guilty feeling, and enforced his own company more and more often when it was time for drinking. especially after the divorce: he's been there constantly, which reminded Yoongi sharpy of the earlier years. he couldn't believe he forgot it's Taehyung's finest trick. back then, years and years ago, when he couldn't live with the chronic pain anymore, and wanted to simply blow his brains out, Taehyung hung on his shoulders like an annoying monkey and kept screaming his lungs out until Yoongi got proper help.

Taehyung must feel the same way now, because he trails behind him after the studio, once he leaves the building, follows in his steps, expecting to catch him, to the point of being annoying again. but this time, instead of getting cross with him, Yoongi turns and actually pays attention. why now?

because you look like shit, hyung, Taehyung replies, because life has run you over at least twice and i am afraid if you keep drinking, you will die.

you will die.

Yoongi collapses on the ground right in front of Hybe; it's like a scene out of a movie. the whole upper chest is suddenly on fire, the heart clutched in a small ball, and the breathing gets stuck somewhere behind the top ribs. he stares at the tip of the building he, sorry, Hoseok, built, and at the sky, and thinks about the weather in Busan. because the consciousness is leaving him, his brain starts inducing memories and hallucinating smells to keep him awake. Taehyung's hand shakes his neck instead of calling an ambulance. Yoongi closes his eyes, thinking, at least i won't hurt anyone else, but it just sucks that you haven't replied to his messages. would've been neat to receive at least one word from you.

he wakes up in the hospital bed thinking he's had a heart attack, but the doctors yank his hope for early death away, saying it was the gallbladder attack. Yoongi thinks for a minute, trying to remember the placement of the organ.

"what'd i do?" he asks.

"it's a call for help", doctor clarifies, "alcohol and stress made your body blow the whistle on you. it's a warning".

"of what?"

he clicks his tongue, thinking.

"you need to go easier on yourself. and stop drinking. but you've been told the latter many times".

there's commotion outside the door, and Taehyung pulls into the room, with Jungkook in his arms. looks like either he was trying to stop the maknae, or the maknae collided into him on his way, and they stumbled inside together.

"hyung", Jungkook stretches nasally, like a child. Yoongi is a little embarrassed. he tries to look away, but doctor retreats and leaves them alone, him and two of the three loudest people he's ever met.

the third one is you.

he misses you so fucking much it's ridiculous. there's still mild pain in his upper stomach and he yells with it when Jungkook elbows him just in the spot, trying to hug. the boys probably don't even know he is hopeless. he's been keeping to himself, and they let it go. life goes on. but now, as he looks at them, he gradually realizes he's had enough, again. these last two... three... five... years have been exhausting. all he wants is rest, and he hasn't rested since you went away.

fuck what Jimin says, or forbids. he's not your father, or his manager. even if he was his manager, a manager is the last person Yoongi listens to.

he isn't dramatic. he isn't deadly desperate yet. he is heartbroken and sad. he is smart. he knows you might not love him anymore. because you haven't sent him a single text in two years, and he never hears that you ask about him. every time Jimin comes back from Busan, Yoongi knows you didn't ask about him. he knows if he does the dramatic run to the city of the sea and confesses his deeply rooted, highly neglected, monstrously underestimated love, you might simply punch him in the face.

he has to be smarter.

he has to be the person Taehyung thought he was: cunning and hypocritical, unbothered. he has to lure you in instead of getting rejected directly. you are guarded and snappy, and too prideful for your own good. he has to make up an excuse to see you regularly that won't look needy. that will seem realistic. he has to trick you into loving him again, an almost hopeless cause.

he has to try. that's what Yoongi does: fixes things. he has to fix this.

─────────────────────────────────────

October

one more year later, he finds you sitting in front of the big panoramic window and looking at the pear trees. living room is empty of the pretty carpets, and expensive couch, and colourful book cases. all packed, all travelling already.

the whole day you're looking like he is forcing you to move. like he put a gun to your head and said: gather your shit. we're going back to Seoul.

"i wish i could take them with me", you mutter. Yoongi approaches you, feeling his back slouch. the old instinct that he fights off. shit, he is traumatized, too. always expecting to be slapped away.

even when you're sad, you still reach out for him with your hand, like he magnetizes you.

finally, the balance. the pull is equally strong on both ends.

"you don't have to do it", he says carefully, looking at your hand tugging on the sleeve of his hoodie. the heating has been shut off already, it's quite late to say these words. the apartment has been sold. your independence, your freedom, have been sold.

"no, i want to", you reply. he almost got used to your quieter, melancholic expression that's been there already when he came to Busan with his unconventional offer to be more than ex-friends. he is methodical. he is unhurried, much calmer than he was when it began. he is sure he will find a way to stomp out this melancholy, as well. plus, when you smile, it's the same smile you used to have when you first met. open, drawing lines at the corners of your eyes.

"you sure?"

you shiver a little, your hands rub over your shoulders quickly, as you nod. Komangi is lying in a curl at your thigh, also trying to warm himself up. not packed yet, this one will travel by plane.

"whatever are you going to do without the sea?" he asks, like he is testing your resolve. trying to make sure you know what you are doing. like he isn't the sea, and the ocean, to you. like he isn't the one who will make you follow wherever. you stare at him with the expression in your eyes that he always took as cheekiness.

but now that he has seen your eyes directly enough, he knows he has been mistaken about that, too. it's love. that's what it looks like. not the cold, elusive stare from under the lashes, or wide-open, demanding gaze. it's this: cutting smile in the depth. straight to the brain.

"Seoul is still loud and dirty", he presses further, as if teasing, and your lips curve delicately.

"i... me, too".

Yoongi opens his mouth.

"you trying to make an innuendo?"

"yeah", you exhale roughly.

"it's so bad", he can't believe your joking your way out of conversations always works, as his head tilts, and keeps tilting until he falls onto your lap. your hand gets to his face immediately, then swipes into the hair. you laugh, and it's the only warm thing in the room. Komangi purrs, and Yoongi does, too.

"you make a better one if you're so smart".

"i'm not smart, i am extremely dumb".

your hand brushes over his forehead and he can't believe human touch can heal so fiercely.

he hates being the one to nag, but it still bothers him.

"you don't look too happy".

"i am worried about the pear trees".

"damn, i will uproot them if you want. we will say it's carry on luggage".

uprooting is what he's done with you, twice. first, squeezed you out of Seoul, now yanked there again. he can see the way his words travel to your brain, and the little goosebumps on your throat.

"i just want to be where you are", you say. you push it out slowly, in between breaths. you think it sounds pathetic. Yoongi's crescent eyes smile at you the way you never thought you'd see.

"sorry".

"if you say sorry one more time, i will break your nose".

he turns to his side and presses his face into your stomach to hide the target and his smile. silver earrings in his ear click against each other.

fixed it.

taglist: @ktownshizzle , @benyhime , @ryryvna , @amarawayne , @mar-lo-pap , @kiki-zb , @hanaohreally

[rockatanskette]

Semi-related to my post on how human conservation practices, but I have a cold today, and it's got me thinking about biological altruism—the biological imperative to put other creatures ahead of yourself, to benefit the group.

When talking about possible interactions with other species, we talk a lot about humans being crazy and thrill-seeking and impossible to kill. Never use a warning shot as an incentive to keep humans out of a fight; it'll just make them angry. And that's true. But a valid criticism I've seen in the "Earth is a death world" community is that according to our understanding of evolution, every planet must be some form of death world. Competition fosters evolution—the wolf with sharper claws survives when its litter mates die. You can't reach space travel without some casualties along the way.

But the dog survives because it makes friends with the strange ape carrying a sharp stick. And the strange ape survives because it befriends the wolf. Underneath the death world is an inextricable and undeniable layer of the bond world; the love world; the world, together.

I imagine some worlds are not death worlds. They're peaceful and tranquil. I suspect there are worlds far more deadly than Earth, where the skies rain diamonds, harder than any substance we know with the species to match. And I imagine that they are united in their confusion at the duality of humankind.

Today is a great example: I have a cold, and I want someone to take care of me, but the people who would are immunocompromised, also sick, or live 8 hours away, respectfully. I also want no one within the walls of my apartment or I will eat them. I feel gross, I feel tired, and I don't want a single human being anywhere near me, even if they did bring soup.

In my constant scrolling through my phone today, I decided to look up why the hell I feel so bad—why everyone feels so bad when they're ill. And the answer surprised me. I always thought it was because your immune system is active, so it's using a lot of your energy. That is part of it. Another part is that your brain and body are communicating across the blood-brain barrier to fight the infection, which is rare and energetically expensive.

But that doesn't explain everything, and according to more current research, it could also be what's called the Eyam Hypothesis: that we feel so gross, so we instinctively isolate from other people. We're too tired to deal with others, and so we don't infect them. Misanthropy for the good of the species. Of course, it can also backfire: one of the criticisms of the Eyam Hypothesis is that humans also instinctively care for each other. If my brother has a headache, I drive to the store for Advil.

Personally, I think it's a little bit of both: biological altruism. Either way, the majority live on. The first thought I had this morning when I woke up wasn't "I feel gross" it was "there's no way I'm going to work today." And while that might not be everyone's first thought, you don't even have to be a particularly altruistic person to not want to leave your home or your bed when you're sick. It's inborn.

And so when the human named Ismail comes down with a case of the interstellar common cold, his alien friend Dyos grows very concerned. Ismail is usually intensely social, almost off-puttingly so. Some crew members joke about how his quarters are for sleeping and prayer only; if he's home alone? You should be worried. But when Dyos demands an answer to the severity of Ismail's malady, the other humans just nod knowingly.

"Nah, he's okay, the medics already cleared him. It's not a severe infection."

"But there are so many...fluids. And his body has changed color."

There is a moment of confusion there until they remember that Dyos's species can see in the infrared color spectrum.

"Nah, that's just a low-grade fever. It should break in the next couple days."

"But he doesn’t want to play chess today," Dyos insists.

"Ohhhh," says human Claudia, finally understanding. "No, that's normal. Humans don't like being around other people when they're sick, it's supposed to be one of the major evolutionary advantages. Protect your community from your illness and the genes live on."

"So we're just going to leave him alone?" Dyos is troubled by this. He can go for weeks without speaking to another life form, but he has seen Ismail grow despondent when unable to participate in social gathering.

"Oh, no," human Claudia says, laughing. "We're going to employ one of the other most longstanding human evolutionary advantages."

There are many to choose from and Dyos settles on, "middle age?"

"Sort of," human Claudia opens up a small shipping container and holds up a brown paper bag tied with a colorful ribbon. It glows brightly in Dyos's vision, almost as brightly as human Claudia's smile. "His nanni's hot soup, express delivery."

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Headaches

Wrecker x Reader

Summary- Wrecker always goes to reader for help with his constant headaches. Based on S 1, Ep 5-7 when Wreckers inhibitor chip was giving him bad headaches!

A/N- Hello fellow readers!! This is my second piece in TBB fandom, so i'm still learning the characters. Thanks for bearing with me! XoXo

Word Count- 838

Wrecker's groans filled the air. A hand clutching his head, eyes screwed shut, and head barred down.

Everyone was settling back on Ord Mantell after a successful bounty captured.

"You alright?" Hunter asked, before you could even turn to face Wrecker.

"Yeah, yeah." Wrecker peaked his head up, eyes trained on you. "Its just a headache..." Hunter wasn't convinced, but let it be.

Wrecker doesn't shift his gaze, giving you puppy-dog eyes.

With a smile on your face, you stand from your seat.

"C'mon Wrecker, it's getting late. Some sleep will help." This had become a common unfortunate for Wrecker. No one knew what was plaguing his head-splitting headaches, and Wrecker didn't want to drag the team down with them.

Wrecker grumbled but blindly followed you into one of Cid's unoccupied rooms.

He immediately threw himself onto the bed. You closed the door and ushered him back up so he could take the bulk of his armor off. He whined but did as he was told and sat up.

You reached him, gently resting your hands on either side of his face. Rubbing small circles with your thumbs. You stood between his legs, knees pressing on the side of the bed.

He leaned into your left palm, letting you hold his face. With eyes closed, he let out a sigh. His face was warm and heavy. For a second you thought you might have seen the stream of pain make its way to his temple. He flinched, but not at your touch.

"Bad one this time?" You babied him slightly, but who else was there to take care of him?

"They're all bad!" He exclaimed, arms going up and head rising sharply. He had a continuous headache for three days now, only having temporary relief with med patches.

You gave a small pout as he regretted his actions, pain striking him again. He signed deeply and you caressed his cheek with one hand, looking down at him.

"Okay, big guy. I get it, let's get you out of this." He mumbled a few words, likely about resisting, but he let you freely touch him.

You clipped off his arm plates first, then moved on to his chest-plate. Your hands lingered on his newly exposed body glove. He noticed, but didn't mention it.

The moment you slipped it off, his body slouched in exhaustion. You decided to play your cards.

"Poor baby... always protecting your team so well"

He looked up at you, nodding as he slowly got closer to you.

"And putting everyone before yourself."

He nodded again, lips slightly parted, hungry for your approval.

"What would we ever do without you?" You sold it with your last line, adding a sigh and a brush against his cheek.

He melted into you, arms wrapping around your waist, head falling to your breast. He squeezed you tight, letting out the day's stress.

"Die I guess."

With a laugh you let him do as he pleased, rubbing his back. The other hand brought up to rest on his neck.

After a few minutes of silence you pulled back. Between the long of the day hitting and your legs feeling numb, you were tired.

Wrecker gave a small whine when you did so, feet shuffling.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing, just tired." You stepped away to pull back the covers of the bed. He sat still, watching you. His mind was hazy from his headache, it hurt to move.

He hummed, shifting when you came back to him. You stretched out your hands, taking his. With a slight pull he stood up, towering over you.

It was comical how large he was, yet he still bent at your every word. He grasped onto every sentence, every command you gave him. Sometimes he felt that his only purpose was to serve you, not the Empire or Republic. Nothing you could do would even tempt him to hurt you. Even though he could snap you in seconds.

His head lowered, ready to follow you into bed.

"Hold on." You quickly turned to switch the lights off. His hand never left yours.

You crawled into bed first, Wrecker impossibly close behind you. You turned with your arms open, he obeyed and settled between them.

His weight was heavy on you, even just him snuggled onto your left half. The pressure was nothing but comforting to you, though. His head rested on your chest, arms wrapped around your side.

You beckoned him closer with a hand to his head, the other resting on his bicep.

"Sleep, ill still be here in the morning."

"I know..." He seemed already half-asleep by his slurred words.

"Good night, big guy."

It only took a minute for Wrecker to fall asleep. You let out a contented sigh. You worried his pain would keep him awake, as it had in the past.

Even with him asleep, you gently rubbed his temples. You basked in the comfort you were able to give.

While his headache might still be there in the morning, you would be there too.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Two

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Warnings: Use of French from someone's whose ability extends to that of the primary school level! Hints of past encounters with substance abuse, but not really.

Authors Note: Part two baby!! I'm really so glad that you all seemed to enjoy the first part of this and can only hope you'll like this one too! I can't believe I've actually decided to give this series a go, already onto starting part four! But I loved seeing all the reactions to it in truth and felt like I couldn't not. Hope you like it x

Masterlist

Adi @/AdelineWells_ 2m ago

Coffee acquired and headed into the studio! Who’s looking forward to today’s show?? #MouseOnAMic

“Did you see it then!” Adi exclaimed breathlessly as soon as I trudged in through the loft door, not even giving me the chance to settle in and perhaps start on a brew before she was invading my personal space.

“Well, have you?”

I dropped my bag onto the settee and then followed suit by falling heavily into my favoured armchair, the yellow one which sat happily amongst the rest of the sitting area we’d first set up in the studio. 

“Seen what?” I questioned Adi, the sigh I added muffled by the tired hand I dragged across the lower portion of my face, before I then knuckled the edge of my jaw.

It had been an extremely long morning, what with Teddy not having wanted to leave my side since waking up and then deciding to throw an massive all-mighty fit when I’d had to drop him straight off at nursery instead of Finn’s like usual.

Finn had actually gotten a last minute project thrown his way, one he hadn't been able to say no to, being an commissioned artist and all, which had resulted in him being unable to take Teddy off my hands like planned and me running more than a little late.

That, plus the trains had been a complete and utter nightmare!

Another strike was set to start soon and so the trains were in constant delay. Not that I blamed the workers specifically for it all, to each their own and all that crap. But still, it took me a half an hour longer to get into work this morning than it usually should have done.

I let my eyes slip close at the very thought of it, merely hoping for a moment’s peace, but then heard Adi sigh dramatically somewhere to the left of me, seemingly oblivious to the weary state I was already in. 

She was growing impatient with me and I could feel a headache brewing, the steady throbs of it pulsing high in my temples. I noted then how much I was in dire need of a rather large coffee, or maybe even something stronger, but simply resigned myself to the knowledge that the headache would probably only worsen throughout the day, seeing as though I’d forgotten to grab my migraine medication out of the cupboard in my haste this morning.

I didn’t even get the chance to centre myself before a phone was being shoved into my face. Immediately, I blinked my bleary eyes open at the intrusion and winced at the onslaught of unexpected bright light it gave as I lurched as far back as the shoddy armchair would allow me.

“Christ, Ads.” I muttered, but the woman only persevered and I was forced to squint and try to make sense of the many words she was presenting to me on the screen of her mobile. My eyes widened in disbelief.

Without a second thought, I snatched the thing out of Ad’s impatient grip and straightened in my seat, reeling. “Shit.”

The Sun

Tuesday, 08:23am

Drunken truths- or rather, tweets!

After yesterday’s whirlwind, caused by a recent segment on an up and coming radio show based in London, Mouse On A Mic, where the host shedded their honest opinion on the behaviour of none other than The 1975’s lead singer, Matty Healy, the online world has been divided. Since the show aired there has been a massive show of support for the presenter, many agreeing with the comments made, but also, and rather unsurprisingly, there has been the expected backlash from the band’s rowdy fanbase.

Mouse, a pseudonym used by the show’s host, managed to make it onto Twitter’s trending page in the early hours of yesterday evening, after the segment on the singer blew up, and it was there that many came to battle over the honesty of it all! 

The award winning artist himself later touched upon it, hours after everything had actually occurred and some of the heat had died down, in a tweet of his own! In it Matty seemed to back the radio host’s claims, stating that we really should ‘listen to the radio’ and that he is an evident ‘liar’ as he’s been labelled many times before. He even went as far as to say that he was indeed very ‘sad’, which caused a mass hysteria of both confusion and emotion to spread throughout the media, some of it relating back to Healy’s previous stints in rehab and the many times he’s been caught in the firing line. Whilst others showed no sympathy at all.

No one from Matty’s band or team has yet to comment on it, but the tweet has since been mysteriously deleted! Our question is, where do we go from here?

“I know, right! How mad is this?” Adi gushed unabashedly as she threw her weight into the spinning chair beside my own. The wheels whined beneath her weight but Adi paid the noise no mind, either beyond used to the crappy furniture we’d procured since moving in or just too enthralled in the phone she’d since snatched back.

I figured it to be the latter.

“He was obviously so gone when writing it, but do you reckon it’s the truth then? That he’s probably getting shit for it right now?” She further queried, her voice filled with a childlike excitement that had me frowning.

“If so, why do you sound so pleased about it?” I shot back, tilting my head over towards her, “The whole thing’s more than a little messed up, Ads.”

Adi merely groaned at me in response, letting her head lull against the back of the chair before she then cast an exaggerated glance, a cheap look that clearly stated, ‘are-you-fucking-joking-me?’

I didn’t care much for it, in all honesty, and widened my own eyes in a mocking response, waiting for her to give me an actual answer.

“God, Mouse! Have you even seen the amount of subscribers the show has gotten since Healy’s tweet? We’ve already got a dozen calls lined up and we don’t even air for another hour!” Adi blew out excitedly as she pushed herself further up in her seat, the tight miniskirt which hugged her thighs rode up slightly but she made no move to tug it down, too caught up in her rant.

“We’ve gained over twenty thousand followers, babe! Twenty thousand! And it’s only grown since his tweet was deleted! Can you believe that?”

I scoffed. “It’s hardly something to be proud of, is it? Gaining traction off some guy who’s already got the world quick-firing at him. He needs help, not more fucking media attention. I mean, you said it yourself, he was clearly hammered whilst writing it.”

I got up to turn my back on her then, figuring it’d be best if I just got a start on setting up for the day seeing as we were already running behind. 

In all honesty, I really could see what had Adi so ecstatic. The show had never received this much notice before and twenty thousand followers was a game changer for people like us. It would boost ratings and help garner the wider audience we’d been chasing for ages now. But I still felt guilty and was far from proud of the fact that we’d earned all of these so-called ‘followers’ off the back of somebody else’s torment.

Matty clearly had his demons, that much was evident. But in my opinion, he really didn’t need any more publicity. Especially on a topic which surrounded old habits and seemed so blatantly sensitive. At this point, I honestly wished I'd never opened my fat gob.

Messing about with the console, I silently wondered why I cared so much. Yeah the evident culpability was there, but the guy had it coming with the way he’d been acting. I’d just been doing my job. Right?

I withheld a frustrated sigh at the question, but then jumped an inch out of my skin when I felt a gentle touch brush against my shoulder, pulling me swiftly from my thread of chaotic thoughts.

Spinning around, I was met with the face of a guilt-ridden Adi, who’s glossy lips were pursed and deep brown eyes downcast.

“Sorry,” She said and then paused, “Didn't think of it much like that.” Her mouth twisted uncomfortably for a second before she finally smiled at me, clearly apologetic. “We should probably say something then, right? To the viewers?”

I dipped my head in a surprised nod before slouching into the booth’s chair with a defeated huff. “I mean sure, but what would we even say though? It’s all so fucked up. Thanks for following us but fuck you if you think we’re gonna chat shit about some band?”

Adi snorted, but her typical catty smile didn't quite reach her eyes, “Guess that could work. Sounds effective enough.”

I chuckled around a smile of my own, then hummed for a moment.

“Not really the big break we were looking for, is it?” I commented aloud, not really looking for a response. Then added, “You reckon he’s alright?”

“Who?”

A brief silence settled between us then as I scanned Adi’s bemused face, and she moved to settle against the edge of the table.

“Healy.” I murmured softly.

And Adi, apparently taken back by my answer, locked her jaw in thought before her eyes shifted towards something just over my shoulder. “I’m not sure.”

--

Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 22m ago Highlights of today's show! 

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 21m ago Mouse opened up today's show with ‘an oldie’, in her words, and played 'Morning Glory' by Oasis which seemed to please a lot of us! She also asked how everyone was today, briefly mentioning her long morning.

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 19m ago The first topic was based around the Kardashian's newest season and was brought up by a listener who had messaged the show. "F*cking old news! We should have gotten rid of that show ages ago, I really have no idea how people can just sit around and watch it all honestly! So much unnecessary- and clearly fake- drama going on. Just seeing the influence that it has on so many young girls, as well as how much time people are willing to spend on that entire family, is just something I can’t comprehend or get behind, but have been very conscious of. I'm so lost on what it is exactly that has people feeling so drawn to them. It's mental!"

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 17m ago The show played this week's top 10 hits! Mouse making a very special shout-out to her son, who's current obsession is blasting Taylor Swift's new release through the speakers! (Don't worry, Mini Mouse, we're obsessed with it too!)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 14m ago The famous "Call Us!" segment makes a return this week! Mouse dragged Adi into the booth, as per usual, and the pair spoke to a few excited callers. The duo answered questions on the newest single’s out right now and what upcoming films they were excited to see! Adi even ended up calling out Ed Sheeran?! Of all people, after a fan phoned in to rant about their need for a new album!

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 13m ago A competitive game of "The Impossible Quiz" broke out, which of course was won by our ever merciless Adi, and Mouse followed through on the losing dare! (Check it out on the Show's website to see! Link in bio.)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 11m ago Lead vocalist and guitarist to Only The Poets, Tommy Longhurst, Facetimed the studio to talk about his band’s newest single, 'Every God I Pray To'. He's been a fan of Mouse and Adi since his first appearance on the show about a year ago now with the rest of the guys and it was so great to see the three of them together again! They ended up doing a Fan Q&A (which is up on the show’s Youtube channel now!) before they played the single for everyone listening in.

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 8m ago When Adi headed out of the booth, Mouse decided to touch on the topic of yesterday's show. This is what was said, "I just wanted to bring up what went down during the last show, as it- I don't even know at this point, really. It just spread like wildfire across social media and has since been taken a little out of context. The topic of Matty Healy did come up after he'd made a recent headline, having been pictured again after taking a couple weeks away from the spotlight whilst on tour. I gave my honest opinion on the subject, simply shared my thoughts, and I do stand by what I said at the time- as all our longtime listeners will already know! But with that being said, on this matter I do feel as though I probably should have held back a tad and bitten my tongue. I don't know Matty well enough to dub him as this or that, or to comment on his life choices- I've never even met the guy! But it is my job to speak out on current topics and I was just doing what I'm paid to do. (Cont)

>Mouse Updates! @/MOAMupdates 6m ago

"… Adi was actually the one to show me the tweet Healy sent out last night, as well as the incredibly insensitive articles that were paired alongside it, and I see now that it's caused a bit of drama and sparked a few more unwanted rumours for him. I feel largely to blame. To all the new listeners, I just want you all to understand that, here and now, I do not intend on milking this particular cow, and I won't be saying much more on the matter. I only hope that he’s doing okay. And Matty, if you are somehow listening, I really do apologise for all the shit I said and for the crap I've probably caused you since. It wasn't my intention for any of this to blow up, but you seem like a good sort, so. You're welcome on the show or at the studio anytime, no judgement here. Now! That's enough said on that topic, I’m-" And with that, Mouse soon moved onto wrapping up the show.

--

[HOMESCREEN] 17:18

Facetime now Mam Incoming call

Messages 4m Finnleyyy Listened to the show on the drive home, you okay?

"Bonsoir, mon belle fille!"

I smiled softly at the warm and familiar sound of my mum’s voice, even through the phone it was always so tender, a massive reminder of home. Her accent was gentle but brought me an undeniable amount of comfort and reminded me of days spent just the two of us, stowed away in our tiny cottage by the coast.

Before I could even offer her a greeting in reply though, the soft smile I wore immediately brightened upon having a much smaller figure settle down onto my lap to grab at the screen.

My mother laughed when a set of familiar eyes and chubby cheeks took up the tiny box in the tophand corner and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling along quietly with her when Teddy greeted her buoyantly.

“Mémé!” Teddy exclaimed happily, full of excitement as he proceeded to crawl closer to the camera, all knees and elbows whilst he tried to better see his grandmother.

I honestly really did try to stifle every groan that wanted to escape me as he went, but I must've looked pained because I didn't miss the flicker of mirth that glossed the older woman’s ageing eyes once Teds had finally settled.

"Bonjour chérie! How have you been? Behaving, I hope." My mum spoke, her sharp gaze lingering on me for a second longer than necessary before she finally shifted her full attention back onto her already babbling grandson.

I let the two of them chatter back and forth for a while, tired from where the day’s antics had worn me down, but still listening quietly as I focused on my mum’s sweet smile.

It was days like these that I wished I could do more than simply phone her. I wanted to walk through the front door after a long walk by the harbour and see her standing in the kitchen. I wanted to hug her and smell the same flowery perfume she’d worn since I was Teddy’s age. I wanted to lay on the grassy fields which sat behind our cottage and talk about nothing until the sun finally set.

But just seeing her face would have to do, for now.

"So you have been good for your maman, non?" I heard my mum ask, and all of my problems suddenly seemed so trivial at that moment, especially in comparison to the beaming grin Teddy gifted the woman as he nodded his head vigorously in response.

I raised a hand to run my fingers through the toddler’s hair, fingertips tucking stray stands behind his tiny ears. "He's been fine- well, we had a little tiff this morning, didn't we Teds?" I alluded to and then laughed, closed mouthed and breathy, at the way Teddy's head snapped up to gape at me. "When a certain someone didn't want to leave the flat..."

Teddy's lips curved into an unhappy frown at my words and his eyebrows dipped to show how displeased he was with the fact that I had ratted him out. To his grandmother of all people. 

I snorted to myself.

“Oh is that so?” Came my mum’s voice and Teddy’s eyes widened at her tone. Immediately the little boy whipped his head back around so that he could pout in the direction of the camera.

"No!" Teddy tried and I snickered, which only seemed to earn me a narrow-eyed scowl in retort. I had to, quite literally, chew at my bottom lip to hide my amused grin then. "I just tired, mémé! Need sleep! And Fin say no come over t'day. Gots to work. And I was sad."

“Ah, I see! So you were in a mood.” My mum hummed, eyes twinkling now. “And here I thought you adored mornings, Teddy! Or has it just been too long since you last visited me?” She gave me a pointed glance then, one I knew all too well.

Teddy, oblivious to his grandmother’s unsubtle attempt at chiding me, sat up straighter to once again grab at the phone I held. I sighed in reluctance but let him have it, trying not to linger too long on thoughts of grubby fingerprints and a broken screen.

Only recently had I had the stupid thing upgraded, not long after Teddy had violently destroyed the last one. The horrified expression of the young worker I’d shown it to in the shop still haunted me to this very day, as well blu-tack and parcel tape which had been the only two things holding the phone together.

"I do, I do!" Teddy rushed to reassure the woman, bouncing to further accentuate his point. I settled a hand on his shoulder to still him, grimacing lightly at the way his knee had suddenly been forced into my lower stomach. "Mornin’ I'm good! Mum makes soldiers like you! An' I see an'mals in the park when we walk to Finny's."

"That sounds like fun, mon cœur, and I'm excité to hear more, but that does not explain your tantrum." The older woman replied, and I felt the moment Teddy slumped against my chest, eyes downcast. "Alors pourquoi?"

Teddy shrugged silently at her, chin tucked into his neck. I tried to bite back my smirk and my mum gave me a sharp look for it, but it did nothing to dim the mirth I felt. Actually only encouraged me further, enough that I had to angle my face away.

The one thing I loved most about living in London was the fact that my mum could only scold me through the phone. 

"Just didn't wanna leave, mummy." Teddy admitted, rather sheepishly in fact, which instantly caught my attention. But before I could get a word in edgeways, my mum was already there, saving the day. Like always.

"Edward. Your maman is there for you whenever you need her! You call and she will come running." 

Her voice was gentle, face full of concern and assurance, so much so that I had to suck in a tight breath.

"Has there ever been a time that you have needed her and she wasn't there?"

Teddy shook his head, woeful eyes trained on the screen now, and I couldn't stop himself from wrapping an arm around him, desperate to have him closer. Teddy went without fuss and leant into the familiar gesture, resting his head against the small crook at my neck.

"See? She’s so wonderful, so very good to you, and she can only do her best, comprendre? So when she is not with you, when you are with Finn or at the nursery school with all your friends, she is working hard to make sure you have a happy life. It doesn't mean she loves you any less, chéri."

"And I do love you, Teddy." I added thickly, chin buried in Teddy's hair, "So, so much."

"I know. Just miss you."

My heart constricted tightly in my chest when Teddy tilted his head far back enough to peer up at me, his long lashes brushing against the line of his brow. I leaned in closer to press a kiss into his nest of messy curls.

“Miss you too, little man. Always. Things are never any fun without you around.”

"Really?" Teddy gasped loudly, as though he'd just that second heard that the Amazon rainforest had upped itself and decided to invade the UK.

"Big time." I faintly whispered, smiling when Teddy's face lit up.

He turned then, far too quickly for my liking, his entire mood having shifted upon hearing those simple words. "You hear mummy, mémé! You hear?"

"Oui, oui, chéri!" My mum replied with the same amount of emotion, tittering quietly to herself as she observed Teddy's catching excitement, "So lucky to have her, non?"

Teddy nodded vehemently and I just rolled my eyes at the pair, half in exasperation and half fondly. 

"I think it's the other way around, I'd be beyond lost without this little monster." I quickly countered, tickling Teddy's sides and then laughing when the toddler squirmed in my hold, unable to escape.

"Stop! Stop!" Teddy pleaded in a fit of hysterics as I continued my attack. "Help, mémé! Tell!"

"D'accord, d'accord!" Came my mother's merry laugh, seemingly coming to Teddy's rescue even though she was more than two hundred miles away. "Le laisser. My poor baby!"

I relented but only pulled away once I had smattered a sloppy trail of kisses down my baby's flushed cheek. Teddy whined unhappily at the invasion and wiped lazily at his face with the back of his hand whilst I simply laughed.

"Silly babies." My mum scoffed without any heat, her smile radiant.

She looked just about ready to say something else but Teddy was already twisting in my lap. "Hafta go loo." He divulged to me in a not-so-quiet whisper, wriggling in his seat now with a strained smile.

I blew out a breathy chuckle in reply and immediately pulled the phone from his grasp, placing it on the arm of the settee so that I could swiftly pick him up and plop him down onto the floor. I nodded my head in the direction of the hallway and Teddy hurried on, but not before he kissed the phone screen goodbye.

I returned to the sound of my mother's sweet laughter. 

"Je jure, il est une bénédiction."

My mouth pulled up at one side whilst I lightly shook my head. "A menace, more like."

"Ah! Do not speak ill of my gorgeous grandson!" My mum was quick to retort, wagging a finger at me, and even down the phone she could make menacing work. "He is magnifique, made up of all your best parts!"

I simply snorted in turn, rolling my eyes as I let my head fall back against the settee cushion. "I don't have enough of those to configure an entire being, even one that small."

It was my mum’s turn to snort then.

"Don't make such jokes." She scoffed, waving me away, "They forever fall flat.” Ouch. “You are beautiful, my love. Anyone with eyes can see that, and Teddy is so lucky to have you as his mother."

I couldn't really bring myself to reply then, instead I inhaled slowly and let my eyes slip close. It had been another long and tiring day, but then again, most days had me at the brink of exhaustion, in truth.

"Joli, talk to me." The woman murmured softly, her voice rang out into the now empty room, rousing my attention back to the phone. "I can see how tired you are, amour."

With another deep breath, I tried to give her the best smile I could muster. "I'm fine, mam. You don't need to worry so much."

My mum scoffed again, rolling her eyes with it.

"It's my job to worry about you! And you make it so much harder when you do not tell me what is going on. With you so far away, I can do nothing but call and pester until you talk to me!"

I sighed distractedly and raised a hand to rub at my cheek. I knew that she had a point, understood that she was always there whenever I needed her, but it was so hard to allow her that intimacy. She had spent the majority of my childhood caring for me, constantly worrying and fretting, so much it still often made me feel like a burden.

Moving to London had meant to be a fresh start for us both, somewhere far enough that I could give her the much needed space away from me and my many issues. But then I'd gone and cocked everything up by getting myself pregnant, and I’d only made things worse for us when Teddy had come along. It had taken weeks for me to finally admit to her just how terrified I had felt. How desperate I’d been for help.

But not once had she complained about my ability to open up, or lack thereof. Deep down, I knew that she probably understood my inner torment, my desperate need to not be a bother, but it didn't make anything at all easier.

Thoughtlessly, I threaded a hand through my hair, already feeling the knowing tell of a migraine that was starting to form just behind my eyes. I made a quick note to take something for it before I went to bed, otherwise I would be in utter hell come tomorrow morning.

And as I carefully mulled over the words that dizzied my mind, thinking on my mum’s own, I thought back to the last few days, about how hectic everything had been.

“Just a bit mental at work.” Was what I settled on, but couldn't quite stop myself from huffing as I knuckled at the inner corner of my eye. “I said something on the show that I probably shouldn’t have, and next thing I knew it was all over the news. Headlines and everything, can you believe that?”

Still in disbelief over it all, I just shook my head. 

“I saw nothing. It wasn't anything bad, was it, should I start worrying?” My mum pestered with a telling expression, because we both knew just how quickly my mouth could get me into trouble. We’d had one too many experiences tucked under our belts with that, but what can you do really?

Instantly I waved her worries off, laughing lightly, “No, nothing too extreme. Well, not anything too vulgar or offensive, just shared an opinion on this guy.”

“Souris,” My mum dragged out the nickname lowly, a warning or maybe a plea, telling me not to add anything stupid to the rest of my explanation. “S'il te plaît. Do not tell me you said anything rude.”

I shrugged, “Not really.”

“Not really?” She quickly retorted, utterly exasperated it seemed as a hand flew hurriedly through the air. “Not really, she says!”

I had to muffle the snort I made in my palm, “I’m telling the truth!” 

I blew out a breath and started to toy with the frayed hem of my jumper's sleeve, peering down at it. “Just, I’d been asked to talk about this one singer- Matty Healy, you might know him? From that one band.”

My mum merely blinked at me, before she ultimately shook her head, the name not ringing any bells.

I wondered, very briefly, whether that was a first for Healy.

“Well, I- I ‘spose I made an assumption on air, spoke before thinking really-”

“The usual.”

Barreling on, I ignored the sly dig of her interruption, “And probably didn't hold back. Apparently he has a rather large fan base though and a few of them heard what I’d said online, started talking about it. No wait, arguing is probably the better word.”

“Oh mon Dieu. Please don’t tell me you started arguing with these people! It’s not good for the show, for you! And what of Teddy, what if he hears the gossiping?”

“Maman, you sound almost as bad as me!” I chuckled, unable to hide my amusement at her worrying, “Stop assuming!”

She clucked at me in return, then signalled for me to continue with a roll of her eyes.

“See, the singer, well he must have ended up hearing it all because he replied to us on Twitter.” I revealed, peeking up to garner her reaction. “Reckon he was probably a bit drunk when he did though, and ended up admitting that what I’d said was mostly truth.”

My mum worried at her lower lip, letting a silence stretch between us before she broke it with a faint hum, “What else happened? Did you reply?”

“I spoke out about it a little more on today’s show; apologised.” I answered with a one-armed shrug, voice much quieter now. “But I don't know, I felt horrible. And I've never even met the man!”

“Try not to stress too much. I’m sure it will all work out. Besides, you have bigger things to fret about, like whether or not you’re coming to see me for Noël.”

I beamed at that, but still had to shake my head at her incessance. The woman really did have a way of rationalising everything though.

Just as I was about to add to that, I stilled and my eyes flickered up to the notification that had just come through at the top of my screen. An email. It wasn't too unusual to be receiving one this late, I supposed, and so I squinted my eyes at the notification box as I let my soft chuckles die out.

To: Mouseradio@/gmail.com From: Clientteam@/Primarytalent.org Subject: Scheduling/Meetings

Good evening!

Apologies for the late email, we simply wanted to write to you in regards to the recent claims made on your radio show, Mouse On A Mic, both yesterday and today, regarding the topic of one of our high profile clients.

We see it fit that all agencies involved should come to an agreeable arrangement now that the media have become more involved in the subject matter. Our team has since come together and written up some viable solutions, we believe it would be in both parties best interests if a time slot could be scheduled on your show within the upcoming days, in which we can gain an advantage and shed the right amount of light on the sensitive topic at hand.

We hope to hear back from you shortly and are wishing you all the best. Please do reply with a response and some available dates to this email address as soon as possible!

We are looking forward to hearing from you, the Primary Talent Team.

“Mum? I’m gonna have to call you back.”

[ccraccz]

Hiya! I saw your Heartsteel requests were open so I wanted to ask for headcanons of the Heartsteel boys with Fem!Reader who’s very sleepy. I mean like, constant naps during the day or sometimes they doze off and become forgetful. And maybe they’re a night owl so they’re constantly up gaming all night!

Night owl attraction

Characters: aphelios, ezreal, sett, kayn, k'sante, yone x Fem Reader

(Implide sauce)

Context: you're a night owl, sleeping here, napping there, but at night, when the sun is down, you live laugh love.

Aphelios

He's with you on this

Aphelios does most of his work at night time and usually takes naps throughout the day.

That was before becoming part of the band, where everyone is usually awake in the day time

So his sleep schedule is kinda (very) messed up.

But knowing you're also a night owl makes his life all the much more easier!

You will always be his excuse.

Naps on his bed? He's ready in the dark, arms wide open, in bed.

You forgot something at your place but are too tired to get it?

He's gone out to get it, don't fall asleep yet though

He'll join you soon!

At night time is were everything goes party rockin

You have your own little space.for gaming in his room you're that important!

He makes his music, has you listen to it and add some input, you play your games, and do you work

Easy as that!

Though, sometimes, he just wants to sleep with you when you have so much energy at night time

Especially on days the band has to go to events

He really wants to stay up with you but he really can't 😕

So most of the time you get your mobile games and play while he's laying on your chest

Or he'll get you tired in another way 😏

Ezreal

He would totally nap with you

But be quite sad that you're always napping when he has the most energy

He really loves to go on dates throughout the day and you always napping always makes him hold off on that

Poor beby

You both are total opposites

During the day he's energetic, you're sleepy

During the night time, your energetic, he's sleepy

Ince he tried sleeping through out the day and staying up at night

He'll never do that again

It gave him a giant headache since he wasn't used to doing that

So he learned that he should tell you the plans beforehand and write them down on a calendar beside the sink in your bathroom because he knows you'll forget

And he'll remind you every 1 hour

He doesn't mind that you nap and are forgetful because of that, but he's slightly peeved by it

He loves you too much to tell you that though

Though if he's incredibly tired at night and all he wants is to hug and sleep with you in his arms

He'll definitely do everything he can to get you tired

Even if it's slightly messy.

Sett

He would totally try to encourage you to wake up early and start your day

He doesn't understand why you're so active at night??

Like??? Huh???

He'd definitely ask you why you sleep so much during the day

Poor beby wants to know how to accommodate you and your likes and dislikes

If you want to wake up but just have trouble, so you just don't

Every day, he'll encourage you to get up with kisses and hugs and breakfast and more!

It'll be difficult at first but he understands, and he'll carry your around if you fall asleep anywhere.

If you don't want to fix it, like ezreal, sett would be a bit peeved but wouldn't do much about it

He lives you for who you are, but it's kinda difficult, literally being an early riser and a night owl couple

He totally understands after you ex0lain it to him but I think he'd feel left out when you're alway in bed and hes.always doing something else

Same thing your way, at night time he's always asleep, alone without you, and you're always gaming or working

He'd try his best and would definitely carry you around when you fall asleep somewhere though!!

Kayn

He'd be a total menace

Waking you up everytime you fall asleep because 'if he can't be asleep l, then you can't either!'

His words

You better have a good reason as to why you're still awake at 3 in the morning-

Oh, work? Understandable, get in bed as soon as possible though, tomorrow you have a date to go to and he wants you awake and alive during it!

Rhaast would totally try to control and wake you up in the most inhumane ways

Like throwing you into a full bathtub

But kayn is still a sweetheart so he won't let him do that.

Sometimes, all he wants to do is lay on your tits and fall asleep

But most of the time, you're working or playing games, and it's so annoying to him

So he tries to keep you awake at all times and have you sleep with him, which usually works!

Other times, he lets you sleep here and there because he knows you're trying your best, but it's just so difficult

And, uncommonly, he'll sleep with you during the day and night if you know what I mean 😏😏😏

K'sante

He's a bit like Sett

Not an early riser but doesn't send his day in bed like you

When he first notices, he asks you about it thinking something is wrong

If you want to work on it, he'll definitely help out

Waking up early, early jogs, cold showers

All along with morning kisses and hugs

He'd, at first, would feel so guilty about waking you, but it's for a good cause

If not, he'd be kinda annoyed by it, but would understand that you've been dealing with this for a while, so you're definitely used to it, and change is quite difficult

At night time, when you're most active, he tries to give as much affection and love before he goes to sleep

Most of the tikenthat means you taking action in bed but whateves

He loves you so much but wishes he'd be able to interact with you more throughout the day without disturbing your precious sleep

And sleeping without you just isn't the same as the naps you both take after lunch

It's just so lonely and wonky he doesn't like it at all

Give k'sante more love, I beg!!!

Yone

(Like alune, there's literally no gifs for yone and that makes me sad)

He'd definitely be more disturbed by it but would understand.

He'd have a calendar every corner lmao

I front of the bathroom mirror so you see it behind your reflection, on the fridge, in your closet, anywhere!

He loves you so much but it's hard to live someone whose always napping

He'd wake you up in the most gentle ways

Kisses.on the forehead, cheek, pouty lips

Fixing your hair, gliding his fingertips over your face as he admires you

Calling out your name in gentle whispers and chuckling when you whine because you don't want to wake up

He thinks you're so cute and gets used to waking you up every now and then.

He's a total insomniac, though, so he's sometimes awake with you, working on songs when he doesn't take his meds.

And he usually only falls asleep with you in his arms so it's a but more difficult to sleep when you're awake.

So someday, when he doesn't want to work, he ask you to have fun with him instead 🤭

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

Note!

Augh YOUR BRAIN IS SO BIG I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO SWEET!!! Thank you so so much for requesting!!! 💙💙💙💙 BTW it was kinda difficult to show that this was a fem reader because I want to include as many body types as I can, so I didn't describe the body ad much as I would have if I had a specific body type so, IM SORRY BOUT THAT 💙💙💙.

[nexxen24]

One Last Job---Chapter Three

A link to Chapter Two: https://www.tumblr.com/nexxen24/783359636841627648/one-last-job-chapter-two?source=share

3: Walker

Berlin, Germany, October 2024

I hated to admit it at the time but I was grateful that Alex moved into the room she lent me to ease the headache that just wouldn’t subside unless she was right next to me. I was too chicken to mention anything, mainly because I was afraid of what she’d say if I even suggested sleeping in the same room but she beat me to it. I was damn tired after that whole ordeal with the mine and meeting her. So, when I finally gave in and chose to sleep in the bed and not on the floor, I fell asleep in seconds. She also just oozed this calming aura that I had to assume was because of me and my stupid near constant headache that was slowly getting worse. Before it was close to 5 feet before things got bad but now it was barely 5 and I opened my eyes, still groggy, to find that Alex had gotten significantly closer. 

My eyes widened since she was right up against me, head resting on my chest and I hated to admit that it felt good, not in a weird way but my head was calm, I felt normal for the first time in the last 24 hours. She had to have felt the headache getting worse and moved closer deliberately or just ended up that way because sometimes people move in their sleep and I had to assume it’d been a while since she had to share this bed, maybe ever. I felt bad moving and really didn’t want to disturb her but she was also making my right arm go numb and I really wanted to gain some feeling back. 

“Alex…” I whispered and she muttered something before getting even closer and I hated to admit my cheeks got hot. “Alex…Uh…can you move?” 

“No…Still tired,” she mumbled and I slowly started to attempt to slide out from under her, still without fully disturbing her.

“Okay…I’m just gonna slide out then,” I said and got far enough that I could slide fully out and sort of fall onto the floor and leave her sprawled across half the bed. 

I rolled my eyes and jumped up, stretching since while the bed was comfy the positioning had been a bit awkward and I had been subconsciously trying to avoid exactly that scenario. Did I want to snuggle the arguably gorgeous woman that had convinced me it was beneficial to sleep in the same bed? 

Of COURSE I did. 

I may be an idiot according to almost all the major publications but I’m not stupid and Alex wasn’t bad looking, not even close. The moment she was laughing in that park with the ice cream in hand as the sun set behind her was the biggest temptation I’d gotten since we’d met and it had literally been two days. It hurt trying to keep it simply professional and I forced myself to ignore the start of a headache as I grabbed a coffee from her kitchen. 

She didn’t have much in terms of food, just the necessities but I had cooked with less and wanted to make something to say thank you for not killing me. She could’ve easily just walked off and ignored me, let me die at the hands of the stupid mine but she didn’t, she stayed and showed genuine care. I knew that Val was likely fucking with me when she gave me that file, they knew nothing about Alex and she was so different than what I’d been told it was crazy. I had heard the story of Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, one of the OG 6 Avengers and how he recruited Natasha Romanoff just by deciding she deserved a chance and I never understood it. He was sent to kill her and he didn’t, he just came back with someone he thought deserved a second chance and it always seemed so unrealistic. 

I had been trained to follow orders, both in the military and when I accepted the Captain America job, to take what my superiors said and follow it to a T no matter what. They knew better than I did and I got demoted from being Cap because I disobeyed an order, all of it was my fault and it was…I knew that. I decided after that trial and Olivia left me to never disobey another order if I ever got the chance to be given one…and yet here I was. Cooking breakfast for a woman that should be dead by now and I should be at home in New York, getting praised by Val and awaiting further orders, more assignments just like this one. But getting in and destroying a base of scientists doing horrible things or breaking up a war was a lot more tolerable than killing this one girl who arguably had done nothing wrong. I couldn’t say that for myself, I had regrets, from my military career and beyond but Alex wasn’t some high level security threat…she was a survivor. 

I wasn’t going to turn on her and it wasn’t just because I needed her to stay alive but I wanted to keep her safe, from Val, from the German government that likely wanted her dead and everyone in between. Alex was my problem now and I wanted to make sure that she could actually be free of Anton for good, live life without a fear of being hunted and make friends that weren’t going to get murdered just for their association with her. Alex was stuck with me, in more ways than one and I grinned thinking of the fun we might have on the mission as I placed a fried egg and some toast on her plate along with a very ironic portion of Canadian bacon. 

“Yeah…I’m predictable, I know.” 

I turned and sure enough she was leaning against the wall and smiling at the breakfast as my eyes widened and I knew I was screwing myself. She looked beautiful in nothing but a pair of shorts and a large t-shirt with some German saying on it, her hair a mess and out of the braid she had it in yesterday. Without the long sleeves of the leather jacket she had on yesterday I could see the aftermath of that fake HYDRA lab and all the scars that lined her arms, not to mention a pretty impressive sleeve tattoo. 

“I like that tattoo,” I said and placed the breakfast on the small dining table as she glanced at it.

It covered her entire left arm and was a collection of black swirls and brush strokes, pocketed in some parts thanks to more scars but it looked pretty cool regardless and fit in with her whole shadows based powers thing she had going on. Though Alex didn’t look all that thrilled I had mentioned it and stood, grabbing a hoodie left on a chair and pulling it on as I sighed and sipped my coffee. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s not a tattoo.” 

“Really?”

“When my shadow powers fully developed at 24, right before I got out, it appeared on my arm, first as this small streak but it slowly got bigger until the entire thing was covered. I don’t know why, just that some mutants have visual indicators, I guess it’s mine.”

“Well…it looks cool,” I offered and she smirked, a small one but still a smirk and it made my heart feel a little lighter. 

“Thank you and thanks for this, I forget to eat half the time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been there,” I muttered and thought back to a week ago, skipping meals in favour of a bottle of whiskey. “But hey…I can cook so…”

Alex eyed me and took a bite of the fried egg on top of the toast and she nodded in agreement, looking happy which made me pretty happy. Yeah, sue me, I liked eating breakfast with the mutant I was sent to kill but it was also the first time I had any companionship in months and I felt like we both needed it. 

“So…discount Captain America,” she began and I choked on my coffee since she had the guts to mention it so casually. 

“Yep.”

“I heard about that, you were quite the thing on social media after the…incident.” 

“Yeah…people couldn’t get enough of it, they still can’t.”

“But I have to assume there are some regrets…right?”

I picked at the egg in front of me and didn’t meet her eyes, hoping my silence would make the answer to that question pretty obvious that of course I had regrets. The serum swirling around in my system was one of them and it broke the already fragile state my mind was in when I chose to take it at such an inopportune moment. Maybe helping Alex could be a much needed redemption arc and get me back to what I was before, not the broken man I was currently. 

“You always regret something,” I muttered and drained my cup of coffee before grabbing her plate and shoving everything in the sink. “So…your friend…did he leave more shirts behind?”

“The closet has some,” she said and I nodded in thanks before returning to the spare room and shutting the door, my hands shaking. 

He had left behind a couple t-shirts so I slid the kevlar vest on before pulling on a black one and running a hand through my hair, sighing as I went. I didn’t like talking about what happened, it was still too fresh and was the main reason I had avoided talking to a therapist in between Latvia and now. There was probably some PTSD lingering in the back of my mind but I hadn’t bothered to deal with it, there was just too much going on…too much…not going on. 

“What a joke,” I muttered and retracted the shield before shoving it in a pocket of my cargo pants and readjusting the holster underneath my shirt that held the gun she let me keep. 

I knew Alex trusted me not to do anything to her, to follow her lead and see where this goes but giving the gun back was a bold choice and I wasn’t sure if I’d do the same if the roles were reversed. But as long as the mine was stuck in the back of my head I was at her mercy and grabbed my discarded canvas jacket before slipping it on and heading out, grabbing the boots on the way and spotting Alex getting ready. She had chosen a similar outfit of close to all black with a tight fitting tactical jacket but one piece stood out above all the rest…the shoes. 

“Uh…Converse?” I asked and she eyed me.

“So?”

“Aren’t they impractical?”

“No…they feel pretty good to me,” she said and glanced at the black high tops that looked pretty worse for wear. “They were the first brand of shoes I ever bought myself…so they mean a lot.” 

I smirked at that and glanced down at my left wrist where a solid black and very durable Casio had been sitting on it since my first day in the military, a gift from my older brother since it had a compass and according to him, you always needed to be pointed towards home. After he died I decided to never take it off aside from showering and I’ve had to hide many tans in my day since there was always a line of white leftover from the watch. It was my Converse and while the shoes reminded Alex of freedom, of getting away from Dark Force and getting to live her own life and buy her own shoes…my watch was a reminder of what I should be, what my brother would’ve wanted. I had no idea what he’d think of me right now, helping Alex, getting discharged after what happened in Latvia, failing as Captain America. 

“John?” 

“Hmm.”

I glanced up to find Alex looking at me, her head tilted slightly like she was some kind of cat and I had to assume that I had been staring at the watch for longer than someone was supposed to be. But I also didn’t want it anymore and it felt wrong to just take it off and leave it at her apartment, a spot I didn’t know if I’d ever come back to, but maybe that was a good thing. I walked in her door as a man that was dead set on doing his job, on following every order and keeping myself in line and I was walking out as someone breaking some sort of law. Valentina would be pissed if and when I got back to the States and Mike would be shaking his head if he saw me now, standing next to a target and choosing to put everything on the line to help her. 

“I’m okay,” I said and slipped off the watch, placing it on a small table near the spare room door. “It’s dead.” 

“Oh…Maybe we can find a new one,” she suggested and I nodded, giving her a very small smile before following her out the door. 

I looked back at it one last time before she shut the door and knew it was a good decision, I needed to do that and one day it’d feel good and not like a mistake. Old me was in that apartment, still beating himself up at the fact that I didn’t follow orders and new me was out there, with Alex, waiting to see where this could go. I’d find another watch somewhere in Germany, maybe even with her and I had a feeling it would come to mean a hell of a lot more. 

***

Alex and I journeyed over to the eastern side of Berlin, near where that infamous wall was and found Mel at a park that was dedicated to it, sitting on a bench and sipping a latte. She didn’t look like what I expected and had long and very dark brown hair with matching eyes and a tired look in her eyes that had to be because of Alex. From what I had gathered based on context clues, their relationship wasn’t the greatest and Mel had been very close with the people that Alex had lost a couple years back. She frowned when she finally caught sight of Alex and didn’t immediately go in for a hug but rather a curt nod as we took a seat on the bench. 

“Mel,” Alex began as I scooted a bit away, trying to give them privacy but the bench was only so big. 

“Alex…And?”

“John Walker,” I greeted and held out my hand as she eyed it. 

“The old Captain America,” she said and I sighed, retracting the hand and giving her a nod.

“Pretty much.”

“He has the mine?” she asked and Alex nodded as Mel stood and poked and prodded at the back of my neck. “Interesting…normally they stay near the surface but this one’s started to bury itself. Have you felt any more adverse side effects?”

“Besides the headache?” I deadpanned and could just feel her frowning at me.

“Yes.”

“No…just that. They’re getting stronger though, a couple feet and I can’t see straight.”

“A proximity mine wasn’t designed to last, they’re an easy kill. Normally you attach the mine to the target and make yourself the source so you can get rid of them by just walking away. It’s not a big explosion, more or less a shockwave delivered to the brain stem that causes the brain to short circuit in a way.”

“How long does it take?” I asked as Mel retook her seat and let out a sigh. 

“Minutes. You’d be dead before the headache came on if you did it right.”

“But we can get rid of it,” Alex said and Mel sighed. 

“I don’t do that line of work anymore.”

“But you did and you know a hell of a lot more about them than either of us combined,” Alex pointed out and I raised a brow, curious as to what I was missing. 

“I made the mine,” Mel deadpanned and I shot up so fast I nearly crashed into Alex before stepping back and keeping my distance. “It was a long time ago.”

“You worked for Dark Force?” 

“It’s how I met them,” Alex muttered, “they heard my story and reached out thanks to similar circumstances. Mel was a scientist and Meg a test subject but she only got the job to save Meg who was kidnapped. It worked.”

“I broke Meg out a couple years before Alex destroyed them all. Our parents were mutants, but only Meg got the gene and when they died, Dark Force came knocking. I spent close to 15 years trying to get her back, and it finally paid off. I just had to do some terrible things in the process…that mine included.” 

“Okay…so you can remove it?” 

“No…but I did hear they were selling the tool that can,” she deadpanned and my eyes widened. “Anton came by.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asked and turned, beginning to look her over for injuries as Meg let her. 

“I’m fine. He didn’t do anything, we just talked. He mentioned losing control and some old Dark Force assets when they raided their second base a couple years back, the one in Munich. Well…those assets are now being sold in the city at an underground auction in a few days time, he wanted my help to get them back.”

“Will he be there?” Alex asked and I could see her tense up a bit. 

“No…he won’t, some issues at another spot he’s been dealing with. It seems that Anton is trying to rebuild and I assume a few of his associates will be in Munich. But so will a very small device called an extractor, long and skinny, with a little forked mechanism on the end, it can override the mine and was the only one made. The other method is harder…voice control through a separate device that Anton no doubt has on him. This is your best bet.”

“We need it,” Alex agreed and looked over at me. 

“Yeah…I guess we do.”

“We get that device and then go after Anton, being separated will be much easier.”

“No threat of death every five feet,” I said and she sighed but gave me a solemn nod. 

“Here, he also dropped this off,” Mel said and handed over an actual pamphlet for whatever thing was going down in Munich. 

“Criminals use pamphlets?” I asked and she rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t underestimate them, Anton knows how to recruit people.”

“We’ll grab my stuff before we go, that’ll help,” I added since I wanted my full suit and some pyjama bottoms. 

“Good luck,” Mel added and actually wrapped Alex in a hug which surprised me and her but she grinned and reciprocated it, holding on for a little too long but Mel didn’t complain.  

She eventually pulled back and walked off, out of the park and left us to figure out what the next move was, which was for sure my hotel room that wasn’t too far from the very park we were standing in. I led Alex to it and didn’t bother commenting on the fact that she was pretty quiet after that encounter with Mel since I could tell that it meant a lot to her and I wanted her to relish in that feeling of being close with her. God…even though my ex-fiance, Olivia, said she never wanted to talk to me again because, “Lemar would be ashamed of what I did and what I threw away” I’d give anything for a moment like that. I wouldn’t use it to beg for her forgiveness or get her back, I was too different from the John she fell in love with, I’d just say sorry. 

“Here we are,” I said and swiped my key before pushing open the door only to get immediately tossed back into the hallway but someone I couldn’t see. 

“John!” Alex called as someone else did the same to her and I scrambled back, deploying the shield which banged against the guy's fist. 

He cursed something at me in German and I knew they had to be the agents who were after Alex before I got the job and Val must’ve told them I hadn’t checked in. It wasn’t deliberate, my phone died and I didn’t feel like asking for a charger from Alex after everything that had happened yesterday. Though…in hindsight it might’ve been productive and I glared daggers before charging forward and knocking the guy through the door of the room. My eyes caught on a second and I dipped to the left, holding up the shield as he shot at me, the bullets thankfully being deflected. I was about to pull out a taser I kept on hand for non-lethal takedowns when the guy dropped and I glanced up to find Alex standing over him, a pool of her shadows at her feet. 

“Two more out here,” she said and was gone, leaving me with the guy who had gotten to his feet. 

I jumped up as well, keeping the shield in front and pushing forward, getting the guy in the chest and he stepped back with an oof as I switched to fists and delivered a quick blow to his face. He really reeled back but wasn’t phased for long and I cursed, dipping down and deflecting a shot that was a little too close for comfort. He spouted off something else in German and I could be bothered to try and translate it before sweeping out a leg and catching him off balance. 

“John!” Alex called and I cursed, trying to get out there and see if she needed me when the guy I tripped returned the favor and grabbed my leg. 

I swung out with the opposite and got him in the nose, causing it to start bleeding and he reeled back in pain as I fumbled with the taser, finally knocking it free of the second shoulder holster. I scrambled back and kicked up to my feet before tasering him and the guy who was reaching for his gun, stopped and sunk to the ground in a daze before going under. I grinned and turned just as the same guy getting Alex in the hallway was on top of me and we fell to the ground in a heap as he got a good hold and began choking me, having knocked the taser out of my hand in the initial attack. 

I cursed and tried to reach for anything to get him before I couldn’t breathe but the only thing close was the shield and I grabbed the edge before bashing the top against his head. Now…Serum does weird things to you…it gives you incredible abilities but the most annoying had forever been super strength, as in I couldn’t really control it. The bash with the shield was a lot, too much and my eyes widened when the guy immediately went limp and his arms relaxed from around my neck. 

“John…are you…oh god…”

I glanced behind me at Alex who looked horrified and moved away from the guy to find out that that bash was a little too much and the front of the shield, which was made of some sort of overly durable metal, had bashed his skull in. It was bloody to say the least and I glanced at the shield which was covered in it before throwing it at the wall in fear, causing Alex to jump as it embedded itself into it, not very hard, I wasn’t feeling that strong after that. I was feeling like I wanted to explode and the headache from her being far away wasn’t helping as I slid back, trying to get away from a nearly identical scene to that incident in Latvia. 

I didn’t want to sit there and shut down but something had clicked and I couldn’t fix it…couldn’t get it to go back and my mind was plagued with memories, ones that just wouldn’t go away. Alex was quick to look around for my stuff and I caught my duffle bag and small carry on in her hand as she wandered over and placed a very tentative hand on my knee. 

“Erase it,” I muttered and her eyes widened.

“What?” 

“This moment, get rid of it.”

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“That’s not healthy, you can’t erase this,” she said and I saw the look on her face, and knew that there was more to that reasoning than she was letting on. 

“You did it.”

“My tattoo…It’s not from my shadow powers…it’s from me erasing my memory. I only remember like 4 years of those 20 and I can’t get them back, I don’t know how you got Latvia but erasing memories for me is permanent.” 

“Okay…”

I stood and she helped me to my feet, handing me the duffle as I reluctantly grabbed the shield and retracted it, wanting to deal with the blood when we got somewhere safe. Alex offered me a hand once I had combed over the apartment and I didn’t take it, I didn’t want her to feel what was going on in my head but she was always stubborn and grabbed it anyways, flooding my brain with a rush of peace as I let out a sigh. It felt good to have her there, as a sort of moral support and to grab me and pull me back from the edge when things got rough. I had to hope that it was an isolated incident and it wouldn’t become a regular occurrence, I didn’t think my brain could take it. 

Munich, Germany, October 2024

2 Days Later

We had a few days to sit in Munich before the auction and I still couldn’t get what I did out of my head, so I spent the vast majority of those days held up in my bedroom of our shared hotel room. Sure the headaches were pretty bad and it kept Alex mainly indoors the whole time but she claimed it was fine and that the hotel’s room service wasn’t half bad. Money for her was no object because of her powers since if she wanted something she could just take it and convince the person they had given it to her. It worked that way for the hotel room and wherever someone asked for money for the room service they just turned and left, having assumed she’d already given it to them or was never there to begin with. It was pretty impressive and since I also didn’t feel like talking, Alex spent most of those two days rambling about anything that came to mind, whether it was the weather outside or explaining in detail the show she was watching on the hotel’s TV. 

It took until the day of the auction for me to finally break and meander my way outside to not only get some relief for the headache but also to make myself a cup of coffee since I’d been lacking in caffeine. She looked thrilled to see me and eagerly patted the spot next to her on the couch after the small Keurig had brewed my so-so coffee. I took a seat, more-so flopped down onto it and let out a massive sigh before downing half the cup in one gulp. I placed it on the table and glanced at Alex who looked very eager to do something or talk to me, or even a mix of both based on the grin on her face. 

“So…”

“You want to do something,” I deadpanned and she nodded with a very wide grin. 

“YES!”

“Being stuck inside has been quite insufferable, hmm?” I asked and she glared at me. 

“I know I hold all the cards in this working relationship but I’m not about to kill you just because I don’t like sitting still for too long.”

“Do you think you could have ADHD?” I asked and she eyed me.

“Maybe…” 

“Good, glad you’re aware of it,” I said and sipped the rest of my coffee as she let out a loud hmph. 

“You are being mean because you refuse to acknowledge I’m even here and it’s driving me insane. I could’ve helped with that whole PTSD episode back in Berlin, you can talk to me.”

“Yeah…I asked for help and you refused,” I deadpanned and instantly regretted it when I saw the look on her face and my eyes shot down to the mark on her arm and what she told me about it. 

“I refused for a reason,” she said and I nodded but Alex reached over and grabbed my shoulder, compelling me to look at her. “No…You don’t get it. You can’t just forget, it doesn’t work that way and it never will. People have things they regret all the time, big things and it just so happened yours was public, it was put out there to be ridiculed and you’re trying so hard to forget it. It’s not gonna go away.”

“What do you do? If you can’t forget?” I asked and she stopped compelling me and sat back, looking almost taken aback by the question. 

“You look forward, you try and find a moment bigger than that one, one that can take all the regret and redirect it, make it feel smaller. I remember the times that I shared with Meg and the others, the moments they made me feel safe and alive, free. It works for a little while.”

“And when it stops?” 

“You find another one.”

The advice was simplistic…look forward but for some reason it had gone over my head and at the moment, it felt like it stuck. I had been so focused on before, on the past, on what I’d done and what I’d failed at that I needed this, I needed her. A moment that stuck out was getting to tell Lemar that I chose him as my second, my Battlestar, and I wanted him to become Captain America’s new sidekick. He was thrilled, both for me and for the prospect of getting a chance to do some more good for the world. Sure…that moment led to his death…but I wasn’t going to focus on that, I needed a moment and I found it and maybe with Alex I could get some more. 

“Sorry.”

“I like that moment,” she muttered and my eyes widened.

“Were you?” 

“No…it’s fine. I think he’d like you.”

“HA! I doubt it,” she said and stood, grabbing her dusty old Converse before shaking them at me. “Get your shoes on you mopey super soldier, we got one day here and a couple hours and I want to go to a park.” 

“Why?”

“Because I like them, don’t you?”

“Sure…”

“Good,” she said with a smile and I sighed before getting my sorry ass off the couch and insisting on a shower before the park which she reluctantly agreed to let me have. 

She was like a teenager, an overly excited one at that and it was crazy to me we were the same age, but there was a clear difference in upbringings. I had the chance to grow up, to make mistakes and age out of that awkward immature phase and she never did. Alex was forced to act all adult since the day she was sold to Dark Force and gaining her freedom was a shot at getting that phase back so I didn’t really blame her. Besides…she was cute when she got excited and I sighed, fully aware that I had it bad and I couldn’t keep her out of my head. It felt like I was going to fuck this up at some point, do something I’d regret or let my feelings slip out when I didn’t mean to. 

I just didn’t know it’d be so soon. 

***

It was nice, seeing Alex so happy as we walked through a park that wasn’t that far from the hotel and also massive, one of the biggest in the city according to her which meant there were quite a few pockets where nobody was around. She kept radiating this nice and calming energy that I had to assume was meant for me and I kept resisting the urge to reach down and grab her hand when it wasn’t swinging around. I also was quite inept at figuring out how to flirt with someone since the last person I did flirt with was Olivia back in college and she already knew me because of Lemar. It was easy with her, we were old friends and the mutual attraction had always been there, not to mention I assumed she was going to be stuck with me forever. But now…

Now I felt like I was a teenager, trying to convince Stacy Pearson that I shared calculus with that she should take me to homecoming and not Brad Marley. She did end up taking Brad but I at least had Lemar who found me a friend of his that needed a date and we had a wonderful time. But without Lemar here and just my dumb brain, not to mention the fact that Alex could just focus on me and read my thoughts was making me nervous. I glanced down and sure enough my hands were shaking and I was just about to grab Alex’s when she beelined it for a bench and left me standing there. 

“Come on!”

“Coming,” I said and sighed, brushing my sweaty palms off on my jeans and running after her, joining her on the bench.

“So…Since we’re close to Anton, or at least his associates, I want to tell you why I haven’t found him yet.” 

“I was wondering,” I admitted, since ten years felt like a long time to be searching for someone. 

“I was a precursor for Anton’s real plan. What he wanted was powers, was the chance to create an army and I was proof it worked. So he used my blood to keep himself alive and gave himself a very unique ability called blend. Basically he can appear completely invisible, without ever being it. He just tricks your mind into not seeing him.”

“So…he could be standing right behind us and we’d just be oblivious,” I guessed and she nodded. “Wow…that’s unsettling.” 

“He’s infiltrated world meetings, banks, vaults, labs and all without anyone ever seeing him. Because my powers are a bit similar it doesn’t work that well on me, I can still spot him but only for a second before blend takes over and my mind forgets he was even there.”

“The paranoia must be deafening,” I said and she nodded in agreement. 

“It’s kept me up at night. I didn’t bother buying a TV or a computer because I was worried I’d get distracted and suddenly he’d be there. And then one time a couple years back I found him in Berlin, right outside the city and was all set to attack, to get him dealt with but he brought backup. I almost died and that was how I met Mel and the others, they saw the fight and saved me.”

“You haven’t gotten that close since.”

“Nope…not since that moment,” she muttered and sighed. “I think he thought I had died after that, but I came back, I tend to. One of the memories I kept of being at Dark Force was that he called me a cockroach, and said I couldn’t stay dead that well. I think he meant it as an insult but I saw it as a compliment. You know…you’re a bit like a cockroach as well.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, you always come back, you’re determined,” she insisted and our eyes locked for a split second as I shook my head. “Come on…it’s true.”

“I’m not determined, I’m stubborn.”

“Same difference,” Alex assured and laughed, a real laugh and I couldn’t look away. 

“I need to learn how to control all of this first…so what happened…doesn’t happen again.”

“Maybe I can help, throw around a football and test your strength or something.”

“I’ll have you know, I was a varsity football player,” I said and grinned as she rolled her eyes.

“Wow…the American got more American, shocker,” she shot back and I frowned as she once again let out that beautiful laugh. 

Alex stopped and smiled at me and because of where we were sitting there was a bit of light filtering in thanks to all the trees above us and we were just close enough that my arm was slightly touching hers. Alex had gone silent since I wouldn’t stop staring and I could tell she was getting a bit uncomfortable so I’d have to decide if I was going to be an idiot or not and fast. I decided to be an idiot and leaned down a bit, closing the gap caused by the fact that I was only the slightest bit taller. 

God…stop…stop it please. 

I tried to ignore the fact that I was screaming at myself to stop and got even closer but it became too much and I did stop, just barely an inch from her lips and pulled back, licking mine to try and diffuse some tension. Alex looked horribly amused and she stood, moving a bit away from the bench before spinning around to smile at me. 

“We should get ready,” she suggested and I nodded in agreement before following her. 

God dammit…why…I shouldn’t have listened, she wasn’t moving. It didn’t look like she was pulling back anytime soon…next time…maybe…

I nodded, feeling determined, but it broke when I looked up to find Alex smirking at me, a mischievous look on her face and my heart sunk since I knew…God…I knew. She had heard all of that and I felt my cheeks get so hot they hurt as I followed her back to the hotel room and prayed this wouldn’t ruin anything. 

Please don’t hate me, I thought and just barely caught the shrug she gave me as she pulled open the hotel door.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for breaking up with my boyfriend?

I (32F) broke up with my boyfriend Jack (30M) a few months ago over a couple Issues I've been dealing with: I found out I have a degenerative issue with my eyes and will be going blind, and his dad hates me for being as he quotes "fat, uneducated, and bad with jobs". Note: I am infact obese, I do not have a college degree, and had lost my job 3 times in a row in 6mos before I hit the stable job I'm at now, due to mental breakdowns at work.

Jack has lived with his parents his whole life, and revers them greatly. However I can tell he's going through the same thing I did with my parents- Where they prioritized him getting good grades over his mental health, he constantly apologizes and thinks I will hate and abandon him over very simple things, he rather delve in games than face his problems, because he thinks he is comfortable when it's very much making him feel worse.

I cut contact with my parents 3 years ago for these exact same reasons- They were overbearing, abusive, and without another way to say it: extremely catholic. Because I was financially dependent on them and didn't know any better, I thought I could live with them as an adult because of how expensive housing is where we live.

Eventually I had to start getting therapy because I would have meltdowns so often in school, and found out it was the way that my parents treated me when I was younger, and that I have AuDHD- something my parents denied as me being too stupid and lazy to do anything after high school.I got on medication and though my ADHD improved, i had to continue therapy due to my Autism now having more time to focus and overwhelm me and having to learn to unmask. I've been told my personality did a 180 over this from peers that hadn't seen me pre-pandemic, but I'm happier now, and eventually found a way to move away from my parents and living with my Uncle instead, who instead of belittling me is encouraging my therapy.

I am explaining this, because Jack does the same things I do- he's almost the exact same as I was with my parentls. He has constant meltdowns and spirals, he thinks he's worthless because of the way his Mom and Dad treats him, yet he keeps putting his parents on a pedestal. It's because we seemed to grow up in the same kinds of environment that we bonded and eventually started dating last year.

Us openly dating did not last long, though, because when he introduced me to his parents they immedietely did not like me. They did not like that I wanted to help with dinner, or refuse eating chicken, because Jack is severely allergic to it. They also did not like that I wanted to clean the table and kept sidelooking at me whever we talked.

Because of this simple lunch, for months, they pressured him to break up with me but he wouldn't. He said he loves me as I am, and his parents are just stupid. We even had to start keeping the relationship secret, because his parents would harass him for coming to just pick me up, or meet me at a tennis court so we would play a game or two. His parents can track him through his car, so they always knew where he was.

I told him what I had to do to leave my parents house, but he said it's too hard to do that. My Uncle was sympathetic about this and even discussed with him to move into our house, but he refused that too.

Last month, I went to a vision doctor due to headaches and blurrier than usual vision, and found out that I would be losing my eyesight due to something going on within my eyes. Its extremely stressful for me, and dealing with that, and the constant harassment from Jacks parents, I got very tired. it was getting to the point where he couldnt go out without his parents yelling at him about me for something, we only hung out for once day per month. I didn't want to give them something else to yell about me at him, and I felt it would ease his stress because they would stop bothering him. And, though it seems weird, I hoped it make him uncomfortable enough to do something for himself. So I ended up breaking up with him.

It has really hurt to do this to him- He's someone I love dearly, and he's taken it way harder than I thought. He won't listen to me, But. He does listen to his friends- it's how he asked me out, and at least try out therapy, his friends hyped him up about it so he did it. I feel if his friends help him realize what he needs to do, he'll be more inclined to help himself than me just telling him. And if not, his friends are still there to back him up than me staying near him and having his parents harass him about it.

His friends are mad at me though, and told me I should have just put up with his parents, because in the end I am in love with him and that I actually made the whole situation worse, because he has loss motivation. Even though I am still talking to him and still there for him alongside his friends- I just make myself scarce so his parents don't know we talk. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[liminalbeans]

VENT POST:

ADHD sucks and I hate having it. It always upsets me to see people "quirkifying" it online and saying shit like "omg ADHD chaos gremlin, my ADHD made me do *insert zany thing*" because this isn't cute or quirky or fun. It's so tiring.

Without a lot of constant management, going to college and taking classes with ADHD is so stressful and scary and hard. Not only do I have serious trouble studying because I can't focus on what I'm doing and/or get stuck in HOURS of doom scrolling/ADHD paralysis, but I forget to check my assignment calendars, or straight up don't know where to find informative on assignments, and I end up getting blindsided by things I didn't even know I had to do that are all suddenly due immediately. Granted, I'm doing a lot better now than I was freshman year, but it's still very hard. And it's frustrating because I know I DO have the intelligence and skills to succeed! When I can actually get myself to study properly I get good grades! I CAN do it! And it feels so deceptively simple, I just need to study! I know exactly what I need to do, and I should be able to do it, but I just.... can't.

Speaking of the doomscrolling/ADHD paralysis, it feels SO bad. I put distraction blockers on my phone that are literally unremovable, so it happens less, but it still happens on my laptop/after the blocker ends sometimes. Sometimes I don't even need a device my brain will maladaptive daydream so vividly it has the same effect. And It's not just a "I'm gonna laze about and doomscroll/daydream" type of thing. I'll be on my phone barely comprehending the videos I'm seeing and panicking more and more. I don't WANT to be doing that! I'm not enjoying it! My mind is screaming at me to stop!! And I cannot!!! It's so bad that I'll start getting physical symptoms. I'll start trembling, getting a pressure headache, and feeling lightheaded. If the paralysis is bad enough and lasts long enough I'll be so out of it that I don't trust myself to drive for an hour or so after. And of course even if it didn't last that long it somehow sets the mood for the rest of the day. I CAN kinda recover and turn the day around but it's difficult.

And then there's social interactions. I DO have friends, and a lot of them are close friends, but a lot of the time I still feel like an alien trying to pretend to be human and interact with real humans. I do and say things without thinking, talk way too much, over share, and generally fumble it. I feel like everyone else got a guidebook on how to be human and interact with humans and I didn't. And that feeling creates a subtle loneliness that is just unshakable. And a lot of the times I'm too busy picking up some mess in my life to even engage in social stuff ( frantically doing pprocrastinated assignments, trying to bump up a bad grade, rescheduling appointment I forgot about)

ADHD often makes me feel like a cartoon character dropped into the real world. What I mean by this is I feel like I'm just there to interact with people and things in the moment, to play a role in some part of something. There are times where I feel like I don't have my own life, my own consciousness. That I don't know who I am because I wasn't even able to master the skill of being anyone at all. Everyone else is living, I feel like I'm just existing. If even that. And don't get me started about thinking about the future, that's a whole different, terrifying concept.

Sorry, I know I haven't posted in a while and this isn't my usual type of content but I really needed to get this off my chest.

[leilll]

11 APR 2025

The Art of disappearing..

Trying to figure myself out…

It’s been more than half my life now, and I’m still not done.

It all started with PTSD and a deep depression, the kind of trauma that shakes your whole being, leaves nothing standing. I like to describe it as something that wipes everything out and leaves nothing behind.

Most of my beliefs feel shaky now, like there’s a clear "before" and "after" in my life.

But the weird part? I can't even remember what life was like "before."

Was I happy? Content? I honestly don't know.

I struggle to let my feelings out.

My thoughts are all over the place. I can’t organize my thoughts at all. My mind is a mess.

And yet, I talk a lot. I’m one of those people who can go on for hours about random stuff—but when it comes to my actual feelings, my real thoughts? Total silence.

Everyone who knows me has struggled to keep up with the way I tell stories. Nothing ever flows in a straight line. And I’ve struggled too—just to be accepted.

Sometimes I write like it’s a silent scream for help.

Other times I write just to convince myself that if it’s written, it’s done with.

But... is anything ever really done with?

It’s been a long road, and along the way, I’ve lost a lot.

Dreams, goals, people. they’ve all fallen away, one by one.

That’s the part that stings the most.

My relationships with people were always built on what I showed them.

And the moment I got tired of pretending and let even a little of the real me show… that was the end (GAME OVER).

Rejection doesn’t always come with harsh words or being abandoned in your darkest moments.

Sometimes it’s just in the look in someone’s eyes and then, boom, it’s over.

I’ve spent years battling depression.

Sometimes I fight, sometimes I let it win.

I developed a bunch of coping mechanisms over time.

At first, I just let the depression drown me, like a slow death with no actual dying.

Then I switched to keeping myself constantly busy, just enough to wear my brain out till it shut off on its own.

Those were my “glory years”, three years of nothing but studying, working, and sometimes the gym.

Then came another three where I crashed again, slipped back into depression, lost everything, all over again.

People only saw the strong version of me, while I was falling apart piece by piece.

Did I completely fall apart? I’m not even sure anymore.

I’ve given everything for just one tiny moment of real happiness… but I never seem to get there.

I honestly don’t remember the last time I had a normal, healthy connection with anyone.

Even with the people I lived with I’d go days, sometimes months, barely saying more than “morning” or “goodnight,” or just paying what needed to be paid.

In the last ten years out of my not -yet- thirty years of life my biggest talent has been disappearing.

I disappear so well that sometimes people forget I was ever there.

Like maybe I’m just a made-up person in someone’s head.

Nothing has ever come easy in my life.

And sometimes, that makes me want to just break down and cry.

Antidepressants? I’ve been through a whole shelf of them. Didn’t do much.

It’s always been hard to explain what I’m going through.

That constant feeling of being misunderstood slowly morphs into something worse, The feeling of being invisible.

So many sleepless nights where I wanted nothing but death.

The nightmares won’t stop.

There’s no such thing as peaceful sleep.

Only the sleep of the anxious.

And then you get the “you’re overreacting” crew. who mock or downplay your pain.

How’s someone who sleeps 7–8 hours a night gonna understand what it’s like to barely sleep 2 hours, to go days without proper rest, afraid of falling asleep because of the nightmares, living a life that’s just nonstop headaches and exhaustion?

At first, your therapist tells you that depression hits smart people the hardest.

But after a while, when your focus is shot, your brain’s all foggy, and you can’t remember basic stuff—you start doubting if you’re smart at all.

You start redefining who you are—with no achievements to hang onto.

Can you see what depression does to the people you love?

Honestly? Most of the time, no.

Because the longer it lasts, the more you learn how to hide it—how to play a version of yourself that others are comfortable with.

All just to avoid the constant “talk” about how you’re feeling.

Those same old words that never really describe anything.

They don’t help.

Does this ever end?

Is there even a life without this damn depression?

I don’t know.

And I don’t have much hope.

Sometimes, I wonder if it ever did go away, would I even know how to live without it?

I don’t remember what life before it felt like.

I don’t know what it’s like to feel calm.

All I know is jaw clenching, and teeth grinding day and night,

avoiding family, friends, and anyone who loves me, curling into myself like I’m trying to disappear.

Of course I write all of this in English, to make it feel a little less harsh, like always. That’s one of my talents too, I guess.

[evreeone]

weird times recently....have been emotionally well enough the past couple days but physically things have gotten more and more nightmarish :[

tldr i maybe should've gone to the hospital but didn't and things are just kind of Bad though better from that initial scary point

and a bit of light-hearted input to offset the depressing post, i'm only a little past 30 and already feel like i might end up with a cane, it really is all downhill from there :pensive:

had what felt like it might've been a bit of a medical emergency yesterday (long story short felt like i couldn't really breathe when i woke up and was in too much pain to be upright) but did not have the stamina to go to the hospital so mostly tried to see if sleeping it off helped, and it did a bit (i've been having splitting and increasingly unbearable headaches the past few days to where i've been taking painkillers daily which i usually try to Not and tend to be someone to ride pain out) But

i woke up today feeling significantly better (knock on wood) though with the great caveat of having like

only 30% of my mobility, it feels like

i can't stand without spinal pain leading to leg pain or numbness or Both, and even sitting has me in pain....lowering myself To sit and getting up is hell....was at a grocery store today and almost had to sit on the floor (nightmarish with how many contamination fears i have) because moving was getting untenable and it was otherwise punctuated with constant breaks

i sorely miss doing the treadmill but i feel like i am dangerously close to losing my mobility this year if a doctor can't figure Something out :( last time i had xrays maybe last year or so they said my spine looked fine so i guess the nerves are acting up on their own, but i have no idea

i'm used to a baseline of upper and lower back pain usually just impacting the left side of my body but it's unbelievably bad rn and spread to like. my entire spine and now both legs and shoulders...feel like that's maybe contributing to the headaches too

i probably should not have moved as much today as i did but i was tired of being kept up in bed and wanted to get out because being bedridden always freaks me the fuck out (and i don't even really feel like i moved all that much, but)

[cvntyvvitch]

Alcohol 4/10 nice feeling uninhibited, but mostly just makes me feel sick and get a headache.

Alprazolam 2/10 very chill but mostly just felt tired and slow

Amphetamine 9/10 I'm fast as fuck boiiii, feel great and can do so much shit. constant flow state.

Caffine 7/10 like baby amphetamine, can't get to nearly the same level but gives you like the demo version. it's got the spirit of the amph.

Cocaine 5/10 like amphetamine but just kinda, worse idk. maybe like a slower come on, but you come down faster. amph got me going allll dayyy.

Dextromethorphan(DXM) 11/10 best shit ever, as long as you get the pure stuff and don't mix with meds. just makes everything feel great, feel like you are floating all day.

Diazepam 4/10 like Alprazolam but maybe like slower release. still not that fun tho.

Diphenhydramine 3/10 idk, after I forced myself to stay awake, did see the hat man but wasn't like that scary. maybe if I did it at night but wasn't horrible like I've heard. much better options tho, not worth the trouble.

Lysergic acid diethylamide(LSD) 7/10 alright this can be really fun BUT you gotta make sure you are in the right situation. if you are gonna be tripping in even a slightly uncomfortable situation, it will just be a ton of stress and no fun.

Methamphetamine 4/10 just do amphetamine. same issue with coke, doesn't last long, doesn't feel as 'clean' and you have to keep taking it. none of those problems with amph.

methylenedioxymethamphetam(MDMA) 6/10 I don't think I got a large enough dose for it to be that great, felt very warm and fuzzy, prob would have been great fucking on but didn't have the opportunity.

Nicotine 1/10 it's just really not worth the addiction. like you get that rush at first but very quickly it isn't fun anymore and it's just something you have to do.

Nitrous oxide 7/10 aight so I was doing this shit with whippit crackers and a baloon before you could get huge cans of the stuff, I attribute that to why my brain isn't completely fried. it's a bad idea probably but very nice tingly numbing feeling through your whole body. only lasts a few seconds tho so meh.

Oxycodone 6/10 fuckin lit, feel great for hours. like being drunk without the mental impairment or hangover, just the warm body feeling, very nice. prob not worth an opiod addiction tho so had to dock a point or 2.

Psilocybin 10/10 like LSD but kinda more controlled and spiritual. it's a slower come on and you feel much more kinda connected to the universe. with LSD I feel like you kinda crash into it and trip for longer than you want to, but with shrooms I feel they are just right.

Tetrahydrocannabinol(THC) 8/10 like pretty good all things considered, but in my experience it is easy to depend on it in the same way you can nic. kinda just makes you ok with daydreaming, but does feel nice when your tolerance is low. pretty easy to control the high if you know what you are doing which is a plus.