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itgirlification · 4 years

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supermodel | jjk

the last three months have been hell for you, but Jungkook seemed to be living his best life.

pairing: ex-bf!jk x thick!reader

warnings: explicit mentions of body image and insecurities, infidelity, anal sex, oral (male receive), foul language (kinda), etc.

now playing: supermodel by sza

part two part three

Exactly three months ago, your and Jungkook’s 2 years relationship officially ended. Unofficially, it ended about 5 months ago. And for about one month now, Jungkook’s been seeing someone else.

Your heart and mind told you not to do it but you couldn’t help calculating. Three months ago, you were still dating, two months later, he started dating someone else. That must mean he’s known her for a while. Did he cheat on you with her? Well, it’s not like it matters now anyway, does it?

Her name was Yuki, an undeniable Japanese beauty. You were still in college, studying music and she was a famous model who appeared in internationally known magazines. You assumed she met Jungkook during a photoshoot since he was a professional photographer who often worked for companies like Vogue and Playboy. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to her.

It wasn’t the fact that he moved on so quickly that hurt you the most. It was the fact that he knew all about your low self-esteem and how you lack confidence. Especially about your body. And he still went and dated a model, of all professions in the world. He was definitely over you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he did it on purpose. But thankfully, you knew better, he looked too happy for that to be even considered. He forgot about you.

You’re making yourself sadder by remembering all the times he assured you you were beautiful and your body was nothing to be ashamed of. The times he let his fingertips run over the lines of your stretch marks, whispering in your ear how much he loved them and how they reminded him of Tiger stripes. The times he caressed your jiggly thighs and told you how sexy he thought they were.

Then your mind would drift back to the phone in your hand, the Instagram page of Yuki Sakurai opened, careful not to accidentally like anything and expose yourself. Not that she’d notice anyway, she had 3.7 million followers, while you had a private one with 500 followers and no posts, and she gets around 300 to 700 thousand likes on each post, depending on whether she posts random photos or pretty pictures of herself. Or newly, your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Oh, how crazy everybody goes whenever she posts him. People love them together. You couldn’t blame them. Two attractive people? Of course, they’re gonna look great together.

Fucking great.

That the end of your relationship with Jungkook would look like this was semi-predictable from the beginning. He did admit to you that he never thought he’d date someone that looked like you when you first dated. And your heart broke a little. But he also made up for it in those two years, it was a beautiful relationship nonetheless.

While you weren’t exactly his ‘ideal’ type, he was definitely yours. You always heard from other women ‘when in a relationship, the man always has to love the woman more than she loves him. Otherwise, it won’t work.’ You never really got the saying until your breakup with Jungkook happened. It was the fact that you clearly loved Jungkook more than he loved you that lead to this.

“Oh my goodness!”, your roommate, Jane, dramatically exclaimed. “Will you stop feeling bad for yourself and do something? That’s not what hot girls do, sis.”

Jane was a lovely girl with a not so lovely temper. She always means well and you got along perfectly as soon as you met. Which was around 3 and a half years ago.

She looked over your shoulder to see what you were looking at. You obviously didn’t want her to see you snooping around your ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend’s Instagram but it was too late.

“Seriously, yn?”, she took your phone in her hand and threw it on the bed. “Let’s go somewhere, you can’t do this to yourself anymore. I’m not letting you.”

Jane was clearly worried about you at this point. The only thing you did these last few weeks was eating, shower, cry, sleep and miss a whole bunch of classes. This wasn’t good at all.

“Where?”, your question was short.

“To the mall? Or the nail studio? Anything that’ll get you out of this fucking dormitory.”, Jane sighed, pulling the blanket off of you, making you whine a little. “C’mon, go put on some cute outfit and we’ll go.”

You felt bad since she was trying hard to make you feel better. But it didn’t really work.

You nodded, standing up from the bed, nonetheless. You picked out a cute two-piece dress, that brought back blurred memories of the time you went on a date with Jungkook, wearing the same two-piece. Bet Yuki would look cuter in this...

‘Shut your petty ass up, yn. It’s embarrassing, the way you’re stuck on a taken guy who wants nothing to do with you’

You wish you could change the way you think, even if it’s just for an hour or two. You wish you would stop imagining Jungkook judging you when he saw you naked or when you told him that you wished you could cut off some of your fat with a pair of scissors.

You were beyond ashamed of yourself. Why wasn’t it easy for you to just stay by yourself? why were you so desperately in need of Jungkook by your side to the point where you’d lock yourself in your room for a month just because he isn’t there?

You needed Jungkook. You became so attached to him in those two years, because you always saw him as a permanent, a forever. Not just a temporary, not just a distant memory. You already saw him as the father of your children, as the man you’re gonna marry.

You were so blinded by the fact that you had him, that you forgot you could lose him anytime.

“I’m done, let’s go.”, unenthusiastically, you announced to Jane, who was already waiting for you.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”, In contrast to your spirit, hers seemed to be all roses and daisies. “Lord knows you need it...”

__________

“Look at this cute ass skirt, girl”, Jane pointed at a chic, wine mini skirt she was holding. “You know, when I saw it back there I wanted to have it, but it’d look so much better on you”

You took a few seconds to admire Jane’s beauty. She was about 3 cm taller than you, had a great posture, and almond, dark brown eyes that suited her dark skin tone perfectly. Her body leaned more towards the slimmer side.

“Shut up! No, it would not”, you let out a small giggle. “It would look gorgeous on you, buy it.”

She smiled a little at your laughs. She was happy to see you at least a little cheerful again. “Yeah, but I think it’d look better on you. I’m entitled to my own opinion, am I not?”

You knew this debate was gonna go back and forth, because of her stubbornness. “Let’s both buy the skirt.”

You ended up doing so, added by a bunch of bags full of clothing. This may’ve turned into your new coping mechanism. Who needed therapy when you can go on a shopping spree?

Two hours were spent in boutiques and clothing stores and Jane decided she was tired, wanting to visit the local spa.

“No, seriously, these Riverdale seasons just keep on getting worse and worse. Netflix needs to step up their game ASAP”, Jane ranted, making you laugh at how serious she takes it. “It’s getting embarrassing. I’m being for real.”

The two of you were sitting in the whirlpool at the spa, relaxing your whole bodies a little.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I don’t watch these new Netflix shows anyways. Been stuck on the vampire diaries for the last 7 years”, you chuckled, knowing you hated trying new things. “Can you pass me one of those magazines?”

Jane nodded, grabbing a random one from the table next to her and handed it to you, without looking at it.

The cover of it caught your eyes immediately. How could it not, when your ex’s new girl looks absolutely dazzling on the front page of it.

‘Supermodel Yuki Sakurai talks summer fashion tips, struggle with self-love and most importantly, her hot, new boyfriend the media is going crazy over’ was the headline of the Harper’s Bazaar Magazine cover.

You felt your stomach getting sick and your breath getting heavier, but you still flipped the pages until you found the one with her interview. You began reading it, skipping the boring parts.

‘Int: so, we see you have a new boyfriend. Tell us, how did you guys meet?

Yuki: Yeah, he’s an amazing guy. We actually met about six or five months ago at one of my photoshoots, since he’s a photographer and we exchanged numbers and stuff, and then we made it official mid last month.’

About six or five months ago? You were with him back then, but her answer was too unclear to find out if he cheated or not.

“Woah, yn, you okay?”

You entirely forgot about the fact that you were with Jane, let alone somewhere other than your bed.

Before you could react, Jane snatched the magazine out of your hand.

“You really can’t escape them, huh?”, She sighs, taking you in her arm. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. In a few months, you’re gonna look back to this and think wow I really was stuck on a guy who’s scared of microwaves and cried like a bitch when Iron Man died.”

You laughed, punching her arm playfully. “You know, I actually love these things about him. Shows his sensitivity and the way he perceives things.”

Jane looked at you as if she didn’t believe you were actually saying that stuff. “Girl, you’re overanalyzing this. Let’s just throw this shit in the trash, okay?”

She put the magazine aside.

“I just don't know what I did wrong.”, You murmured. “I know we weren't the best, but we didn't even fight that much. We could’ve talked it through.”

Jane pursed her lips and cooed. “You know, relationships are complicated sometimes. The reason why he broke up, to begin with, is probably not your fault.”

“Well, what if it is? I mean what if I was too fat or too ugly for him?”, you asked. “If he wanted a skinny girl so bad, I could’ve lost weight for him, I don’t get it.”

Jane looked at you like you lost your mind entirely. “I can’t believe you just said that! Even if that was the reason, which it wasn’t, you shouldn’t make yourself suffer because of it. That’s his loss. You’re beyond gorgeous and you have an amazing body.”

“You’re just saying that.”, tears slowly started coming up in your eyes. “But the thing is Jungkook knows all about my insecurities. Why would he do that to me? I know he knows that I’m still not over him.”

You usually didn’t like crying in front of other people, but you didn’t really care at the moment, besides that was Jane. You trusted her with your life.

“Girl, men are trash, I can’t believe you’re crying over one right now, seriously.”, she wiped your tears and held your face between her hands. “You know, honestly, I’ve read so many articles about how models actually hate themselves and have like the lowest self-esteem so in conclusion, no matter how miserable you are, his new girl is even more miserable.”

You knew Jane didn’t mean it in a harmful way, but it sounded harsher than needed. “I don’t hate her, she probably doesn’t even know about me. I’m just really insecure. He upgraded from me. He’s dating a whole model now.”

The situation just felt like a deja vu of these last few weeks laying in your bed, even though you were at the spa with your friend. You were supposed to have fun, yet you didn’t feel like having any.

“Why would you feel insecure when all you’ve seen of her are Instagram posts and red carpet pictures? She’s supposed to look beautiful, it’s her job.”

To a certain extent, Jane was right, but that didn’t really help your situation, you still felt bad about yourself. You stayed silent.

“C’mon, this isn’t fun anymore. Let’s leave.”, Jane mumbled.

_______

it’s been two days since the incident at the spa and you felt a little bit better now.

Those days were spent reading the same three book series you’ve read your entire life, overthinking, hot Cheetos, Indian takeout, and Netflix. It really wasn’t as miserable as it sounded.

You were just taking a little rest before term break ends and you have to go back to the shithole college again.

Jane was using the time until college starts again, but in different ways than you were. She was planning on going to some frat party in an hour and forget about the world’ for a minute. Or till 4 in the morning, where she will most likely drunk call you and ask you for a ride back to the dorms, because the friends she went to the party with were shit-faced as well and were in no way capable of driving anywhere without the cops stopping them.

Going out partying on a Friday night was a Jane tradition. In the past, you’d sometimes go with her, but you mostly spent your time out with Jungkook doing something more fun than partying could ever be. Now you can’t do that anymore, but laying in bed is more ideal than a party for you at the moment.

“How do I look?”, Jane twirled around to show off her black cocktail dress. She looked beautiful.

“You look beautiful.”, you responded to her question. “Are you leaving now?”

“Hm”, she said, to which you nodded. “You sure you don’t wanna come with me? It’s gonna be really fun.”

You shook your head no.

“Alright”, she shrugged, making her way out of your bedroom. “But I told you, it’s gonna be fun.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “I’ll stay here, I have shit to do.”

“Yeah, right, like binge-watching the vampire diaries and taking 5-hour naps”, she said in a sarcastic tone. “Anyway, bye-bye, Vic’s already waiting for me in the car.”

Victoria was perhaps one of the most obnoxious people you know, yet she was too much of a nice person for you to talk shit about her. The voice of your intrusive thoughts couldn’t help but to, though.

“Alright, bye, take care and say hi to Vic from me.”

After Jane left, an hour went by like it was just a couple of minutes. You were starting to get real bored and decided to watch some regular tv in hopes to find something you enjoy. You ended up not finding anything fun, but you still watched it, because you didn’t have anything else to do.

A few moments later, the doorbell rang and you were suddenly worried. Either this is a serial killer or Jane forgot something.

But to your surprise, it was neither, but it was none other than

“Jungkook?”, truly, those were the only words you were able to mutter out at your shocked state. “What are you do-“

At the speed of light, you were interrupted by your ex-boyfriend pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t say a word.

You weren’t expecting him. Not knowing how you were supposed to feel at the moment, you just let it happen. You were sure your mental state couldn’t get any worse than that, no matter how this will affect you in the end.

“Is Jane home?”, for the first time in 3 months, you’re hearing his silky voice again.

Jungkook knew Jane always had some type of special hatred for him with her killing stares and her bitter comments. You didn’t notice either though.

He also knew she must hate him even more after your breakup. Or maybe she liked him more now since she was able to get rid of him without killing anyone.

“No”, your answer was short and it made a weight fall from Jungkook’s shoulders before he continued kissing you.

It wasn’t anything you haven’t done before, yet it felt like it’s been ages since it last happened. Your mind drifted to the thought of Jungkook and his model girlfriend. You were asking yourself what their sex life was like, if she was tighter than you or if she had stretch marks and scars.

Jungkook’s lips were moving south, giving your neck wet kisses, while you were wondering why he broke up with his model girlfriend. Or if he even did. You felt selfish for not caring.

Removing your clothes one by one, you were left in your underwear, while Jungkook only had his boxers on.

This body was yours. You knew it inside out. Where he liked to get touched and where he preferred not to. You knew him better than anyone else. You were sure.

You already moved to your bedroom, since Jungkook effortlessly carried you there. You were sat on his lap, facing him and your hands were in his messy hair. His hands were around your waist, he was slightly smiling into the kiss, as you started grinding on him. He loved how easy it was for him to turn you on. You were still his.

Cutting off the kiss, he looked you in the eyes, while his hand was on your cheek. “Say aah.”, he said.

You widened your mouth obediently, which was followed by him collecting as much saliva as he could in his mouth and spitting it into your mouth.

“Swallow.”, demanding, he spit on your face, his eyes become darker with every passing moment. You did as he said.

You looked at him with big eyes. He knew you loved it. You’ve always had a thing for him degrading and humiliating you during sex.

He started grinding on you almost desperately. You knew exactly what he wanted.

Getting out of his grip, you dropped to your knees and freed his hard dick from his drawers. You reached for it and started pumping it, and licking it. Your spit was leaking down his dick as you used it for lubrication. Then you started sucking on it, just the way you used to.

Jungkook’s groans and satisfied sighs were enough to make you even wetter than before. You enjoyed giving more than receiving.

Your mouth was wet and warm around him, giving him a feeling of familiarity. You lick over the tip a few times, then proceed to fully take him into your mouth.

The bulge in your throat could be seen and the way your eyes were tearing up a little wasn’t bothering you at all. You loved giving.

Jungkook started thrusting in and out of your warm, welcoming mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat multiple times.

“Fuck”, a throaty moan left Jungkook’s mouth, giving you hints that he was about to cum. And he did, releasing in your mouth before you swallowed it. “Shit, baby, that was so good.”

You felt your face heat up and a sheepish smile made its way to your face. Your throat was sore.

The two of you were on the bed again. To you, it felt like it was the times before your breakup again, when you’d purposely start an argument just for the makeup sex because Jungkook wasn’t giving you any anymore. It was like sex was the only thing to look forward to.

You felt attached to Jungkook to a point where it was dangerous. You weren’t okay when he wasn’t around. He affected every part of your life and God knew it wasn’t always a positive thing. Maybe it was the fact that he took your virginity. Maybe because he was your first boyfriend, the first guy that made you believe you were worthy of love and that someone was actually capable of loving you. One thing you knew was Jungkook had an expansive influence on your life.

While you were practically drowning in your own thoughts, Jungkook was busy taking off your underwear.

“You okay?”, Jungkook calmly asked you, looking at your riddled face.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay.”, you sounded distracted, Jungkook wasn’t sure about asking you what it is though. He didn’t feel like getting personal.

So he shrugged it off and started kissing you again, his dick was unsurprisingly hard again as he played with your tits. He drew lines over the stretch marks of your thighs and kissed them.

“Can I fuck your ass?”, Jungkook’s raspy, tired-sounding voice casually asked, to which you quickly nodded, knowing that Jungkook’s favorite position had always been anal. He was massaging and gripping your ass firmly.

“This is gonna hurt at first, but I promise it gets better.”, He warned calmly into your ear, while putting some lube on his dick and just went right into your ass, slowly thrusting so you don’t feel as much pain.

He was right, it did hurt a lot when he first put it in, but the pain just changed into pleasure in a matter of time and his slow-paced thrusts helped with the adjustment.

“Fuck, I missed this ass”, he practically growled into your ear, as he kept on thrusting in and out, steadily gripping your wide hips with his big, veiny hands. “It just doesn’t feel right when I’m inside her ass.”

You knew your confidence shouldn’t rely on Jungkook bringing his girlfriend down, but you couldn’t help but feel good about your body when he said that. It’s been a while since you felt even a tiny spark of confidence. You weren’t so fond of him mentioning her while he was inside of you.

Your soft moans rang through the whole room like sirens, while he watched your ass jiggle against his pelvis, thrusting in and out faster every second. He missed this.

You had always thought you were indecisive, but you knew exactly what you wanted. You just couldn’t have that, so you’d eventually have to settle for less.

Jungkook wasn’t to blame for it, you just couldn’t concede your shortcomings. The movie’s villain wasn’t always the real villain.

Your hands traveled to your pussy to make sure you’d orgasm as well, when you heard Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier and his thrusts getting gentler than before, indicating that he was gonna cum soon. You were certain he could make you cum with just anal, but you wanted to cum with him.

With furrowed eyebrows and drops of sweat dripping down his body, Jungkook looked down at your arched back. The whole scene was sticky, especially when Jungkook presses his upper body to your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and kissing the spot.

It was kinda odd, having sex with your ex-boyfriend you were crying over just a day ago. There was a certain intensity to it though. Like your long-lasting nostalgia was finally fulfilled.

You’ve realized you couldn’t imagine yourself being intimate with anybody else. Jungkook already knew your body, how it looked without the material protecting it, the strawberry skin, the slightly sagging breasts you swore you’d surgically remove once you had the chance to but didn’t. He knew where you liked being touched, he was the first one to even touch you in those places.

You were unsure what you’d do with yourself when he leaves.

Jungkook’s thrusts slowly started stopping and you too felt the familiar sensation in your stomach.

Suddenly, you two were nothing but desire, fear, and pleasure. And faster than you could process, you came together.

For minutes after your orgasm, you were just laying on the bed, thoughtless. Maybe a little regretful. Not you, but him.

You weren’t facing each other, but you could hear each other’s breathing. Your stomach was filled with something you’d describe as post-sex melancholia.

All of a sudden, Jungkook stood up from the bed, startling your resting self a little, but you decided to keep quiet, wanting to see what he was going to do.

He made his way to the door to leave what he thought was your sleeping body laying there. You couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Where are you going?”, your soft voice suddenly rang in his ears. “Don’t you wanna stay?”

He didn’t know how exactly to tell you. You’ve always been a gullible little girl, you were the type of girl to think fucking equals love. Little did you know that wasn’t the case at all.

“Yn.... you know I can’t”, Jungkook responded, you knew it wasn’t gonna be good when he said your name like that. “I got a girl at home and I don’t wanna mess shit up with her.”

There it was. Your suspicion was corroborated. He was still going out with the model and you were a certified home wrecker. Great.

You physically felt your heart breaking. “Bu- but why are you here then?”

You were incapable of being mad at him at the moment. It was your fault for letting him in, again. After breaking your trust and your heart.

“This was a mistake”, he declared, not looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry, yn...”

He’s moved past your room now, already at the exit of your dormitory. He was about to leave.

“You already ruined shit with her when you came here and fucked me.”, your voice was small, but your words were heard.

Without looking back, he left.

And you went back to your room, standing in the middle of it for a minute in silence before your brain fully processed what had happened and your tears started pouring.

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pretoriafics · 4 years

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Therapy Sessions with the Devil - Part II

You guys requested me about this one so much! I'm glad all of you liked part one. Now, prepare yourself for your worst nightmare being Homelander's therapist.

Word count: 1.683 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mental disorders, sexual harassment, stalking and regurgitation. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 1 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

If hell really exists, for you, it sure would be Friday mornings. Of course, that was a very contradictory thought for most people. Friday was usually associated with a fun day where, after work, you could go out with your friends in the evening and return home whenever you wanted. That was the advantage of Fridays: The fact that you know you don't have to wake up early the next day to go to work. Knowing that the week was coming to an end was like a cool breeze, as well as knowing that the next day would be pure rest. That didn't exactly apply to you. Okay, it was great to know that you wouldn't have to work the other day. That was the only good point on Fridays for you because on that specific day of the week you have Homelander as a patient. Your attempt to get rid of him on leaving Vought had been successfully thwarted because you were apparently a good professional. And you've never hated yourself so much for being good at what you did as a job. It turns out that, lately, things had started to get a little strange in the consultations with him. Homelander always mentioned a girl, whom he said he was starting to see differently. He filled her with compliments when he spoke of her, always reinforcing how much he loved the color of her eyes, her calm voice, and the way her hair moved with her graceful walk. Of course, according to him, if she were a Supe she would be perfect. But that's okay because he said he really accepted her "with that imperfection". You started to suspect that he was talking about you but avoided thinking about it. It not only made you sick with dread, but it completely perturbs you. A Homelander in love with you would be a great way to make it even worse than it was going. That morning on a Friday the 13th, when you arrived at the office, you saw that on your table was a sumptuous bouquet with the most beautiful reddish roses you had seen. Despite the beauty of those flowers, you took that as confirmation of your worst nightmare. Terrified, you let your bag hit the floor and ran to the bathroom. There, you knelt in front of the toilet and put all your breakfast out. Tears were wetting your face, your hands were shaking in pure fear. And then, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. “Yes, put everything out. Everything will be fine, it will be over… ” It was him. Homelander's voice flooded your ears, and you had to take a deep breath to try to take some control over yourself. “Okay, I'm already better. It must have been something I ate for breakfast. Can you excuse me and wait for me on the couch, please? ” He nodded, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Sure." As soon as he left, you closed the door. You took the toothbrush and the paste you kept there, brushed your teeth, and wiped away your tears. Then, you left the bathroom ready to get it over with. So, you sat in your chair while Homelander directed his worried blue eyes to you. You have started the query. "Well, let's get started then." “Don't feel pressured to make our session today. We can do it tomorrow, you are not feeling well. ” You forced a slight smile. “I'm better, thanks. And I don't work on weekends. ” Not least because you weren't willing to let Homelander ruin your Saturday. "I bought these flowers for you when I was coming here." He got up from the couch and took the bouquet from the table, handing it to you with a tender look. Homelander was beaming and even looked so anxious as a teenager in front of their crush. You, however, froze. You clenched your jaw and forced another smile, holding the flowers. “I appreciate it, John. I'm flattered, but I need you to know that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional and impersonal. I can have my therapist register canceled with this type of relationship with a patient because it is unethical, and I don't want to end up harming myself. ” Those words made you realize how brave you were. You had fought an internal battle to say that. "But I will put the flowers in a vase after the consultation." His expression became austere and you froze with it. Homelander nodded and lay down on the couch while you put the flowers back on your table. Fortunately, at that meeting, he hadn't mentioned you or anything you might suspect was about you. The subjects of that consultation were merely concerned with the Seven, about their suspicions about Starlight, and how angry he was with the team. You were with your head on the clouds. You couldn't stop thinking about what you would do now that your worst nightmare had become real. You were so disturbed, you didn't even see that appointment go by. It seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, unlike the others that seemed to be an eternity. And then you were finally able to rest. Being Homelander's therapist also brought other burdens: No therapist could maintain consultations with you, because it was too heavy for anyone to hear you talk about Homelander. Until then, you hadn't been able to find anyone who could help you support the weight you carried on your shoulders. You even thought of writing everything you felt in a diary as a way to try to get out and put out what you felt. However, the fear that Homelander might read outweighed everything. That was another point: You felt, at times, that you were being followed and observed. The curtains in your house always remained closed, although you knew that if Homelander was really stalking you, curtains would not help. That was enough for you to start developing a little paranoia. But that Saturday had been unlike anything. As usual, you woke up with the feeling of being watched. However, it looked different that time. It was almost as if you were feeling that Homelander was also on the sumptuous penthouse where you lived. Knowing that hiding in any room in the house could be worse, you simply chose to go out with a friend. Your circle of friends didn't recognize you anymore, and they even seemed to be concerned about you. While you and your friend were walking through Central Park, while she was telling some random gossip from someone in your social circle, you couldn't stop looking around. Homelander was there, somewhere, watching you. You were quite sure of that! Night soon came, and that feeling of being watched did not go away. You had the impression that Homelander, when he came to watch you, never stayed that long. His maximum was three hours. But on that Saturday, he seemed to be on your heels all day. You chose to wear your worst pajamas that night, the one that best hid your body, since you never had the feeling of being watched at that time. You were certain that you would not be able to sleep, and you could already feel that your emotions were extremely drained. Trying to act as naturally as you could, you lay down in your King Size bed. You covered yourself with the blankets and turned off the lights. You were lying in a sideways so that you could see the door that went into your corridor. It was like you were waiting to hear Homelander's footsteps there. But then you saw, through the reflection of the mirror, the door to your closet - the only door you were facing away from. You saw the reason for all your dread. The mirror reflected the image of a Homelander with slightly red eyes, watching you through the crack in the door. His uniform pants were slumped under his feet, and despite the low light, you could see what he was doing - explained mainly by the movement of one of his arms. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, and that seemed to be the main reason he didn't notice that you saw him. Your heart sped up, and you had to contain a weeping of fear and the nausea you felt when you noticed that grotesque scene. Tears flooded your face so that your vision was completely blurred, and panic made your entire body stop functioning. Homelander was completely obsessed with you, and that would bring you to complete ruin. You didn't sleep the rest of the night - even when you noticed that Homelander was no longer in the apartment. Still, on Sunday morning, you only managed to get out of bed at seven. You had been crying all night, completely stunned by the surreal situation that had happened. Apathetic, there were no more tears, no energy to cry or be afraid. You were just an empty shell, an inanimate object - the Homelander's favorite one. So you walked slowly to the closet to change clothes. And there was proof that what had happened last night was real. It was everywhere. The pearly liquid present on the door, on the floor, and at some points on the wall proved that he had not touched himself just once that night. You staggered backward, feeling that sudden wave of nausea again. That scene was enough for you to stride to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet while your body tried to expel something through your mouth, without success. Suddenly, you felt your heart racing. Panic enveloped you, and you leaned against the bathroom wall, your breathing as fast as your heart. Sweeping heat shot through your body, and you started to feel sweaty. The air seemed to start to drain from your lungs and you thought you were about to die. And if your time to die had indeed come, fine. Homelander would no longer torment you anymore.

#The boys x Reader #the boys x you #the boys x y/n #the boys imagine #the boys imagines #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander imagines

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astralselfships · 3 years

Note

Hi ! I love your blog and apreciate you a lot ! Can I request a s/i who gets migranes but they grew up learning that you can't take medicine until it gets really bad ( and that by their parents standards is like NEVER ) so they let it go to a level where moving is extremeling hard, doing things like siting up and down and walking, everything is too loud but they can't stand silence and they get nauseous and their f/o comes to their rescue, please ? Sorry if it's too much, I just really need comfort right now. But if you ignore this it's ok too

Hey anon, thanks for the sweet message!

I am sorry this took so long but I hope you will enjoy if you still want to read this!

I relate to getting terrible, long term migraines, I'm sorry you have to go through this. Do take care of yourself and thank you again ^^

F/O who comes to the rescue with a S/I who has terrible migraines and does not take medicine until it gets worse

🌸 It all starts like this : you get terrible headaches, they progressively get worse and they always come around to stay and make it harder for you. Your daily activities are compromised and your parents' nagging about pills and the importance of NOT taking them never leaves your thoughts. So you suffer in silence and hope for the best while expecting the worst.

🌸 As time passes by, the throbbing paying gets progressively worse and comes along with nausea, hypersensitivity to light and suddenly any noise seems like an immense explosion to you. As you keep your face buried in your hands, a gentle touch on your back distracts you from your unbearable pain.

🌸 It was your F/O, with a worried expression plastered on their face, bringing with them the softest touches and caresses on your back and shoulders. As you stay there basking in their tender treatment, their fingers lightly trace the back of your neck, ultimately going up to your hair and play softly with it as they greet you silently.

🌸 As soon as they heard about you not feeling well and getting those upsetting migraines again, they came to you in a trice. They did ponder on getting some things for you on their way but decided to see you sooner than later and see them what they could get you.

🌸 "I've got you.", they whispered as they picked you up gently and put you in bed, making sure that there is not bright light turned on. They also closed the curtains and brought you the softest blanket.

🌸 Only when they asked why didn't you take a pill for your pain you and didn't say a word did they realize that something is up.

🌸 They made sure to keep the environment around you as comfortable and as calm as possible by whispering only, openig the window ajar to let in fresh air without opening the curtains and staying around you, occasionally caressing your cheeks and massaging your scalp.

🌸 Imagine your F/O bringing you small amounts of caffeinated beverages, water and a handful of healthy snacks to keep you safe and hydrated. If you are feeling too nauseous, they will pass the snacks but they'll keep in mind to give them to you later on.

🌸 If you tell them about your reluctance when it comes to pills, they will opt for temperature therapy instead to soothe your body. Your F/O will bring you hot or cold compresses for your head and neck. If you grimace at the contact, they will softly press a kiss on your temples or forehead as they do so, whispering you comforting words.

🌸 They will try to convince you to get a pill too. Imagine your F/O being so worried and careful with you that they will in fact ask you if you have a preference for a certain pill that contains better substances in order to heal you before making a trip to the pharmacy to get them for you specifically.

🌸 If you wave it off, they will sigh and mumble a "You need to get better soon..". Nagging mode : ACTIVATED.

🌸 They won't pester you with question about your hesitation to take pills but they will make sure to get the best ones and bring them to you, offering to bring a glass of water. There is no way you will feel better soon if you do not take care of yourself.

🌸 They understand the mindset and the fact that you might have been educated like that but they are here to assure you that a pill in such situations does not do any harm, in fact, it's mandatory to make you feel better.

They will softly whisper these to you as they caress your face and explain the times when they felt the same excruciating pains and pills made them feel better.

🌸 When you do accept and take it, they will be the happiest! Your F/O will plant a soft, longing kiss on your forehead and encourage you to take a nap if you feel like it, now that you took a pill for your pain. If not, they will still be there to cuddle you or kiss your pain away if you want them to. <3

🌸 Even if you do feel better, your F/O will make sure that once you can stay on your feet and eat without feeling nauseous, they will prepare a warm bath for you to make you feel relaxed.

🌸 They will always be prepared from now on to combat these as much as possible because seeing you like this crushes them. Even if your F/O is not the type, they will most likely be very observant and keep a migraine diary or a journal to note there the things that they think help the most and the things that might make your migraines bad.

🌸 P. S. They love you a lot so remember that whenever you're in pain or struggling, your F/O is truly worried and will do anything to help you!

#f/o imagines #self insert #self shipping #f/o community #f/os #self ship #f/o positivity #imagine your favorite character #imagine your fc #imagine your fictional other #imagine your f/o #f/o tag #f/o #anon reply #fictonal other #self ship community #self insert community

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

To all Guys a Chat Loved Before

Okay, this is it. I’ve been working on this story for over a week. It’s seventy pages and twenty thousand words. I basically wrote you a short story. Enjoy it. Review.

I’m not fond of Rom-Coms and rarely if ever watch Romantic movies. But there are a few that i’ve liked. So THROUGH OUT THIS i’ve sprinkled some of my favorite lines from my favorite romantic movies over the years. Some also came from tv shows. See if you can point them out.

This is Adrien-centered fic. It’s also slash.

Don’t you wish that people came with warning labels?

Adrien did. He wished more than anything because his life would be so much easier if everyone could see each other’s warning labels.

Bustier: Terrible teacher. Needs to please everyone. Hates confrontation.

Lila: Waring massive Liar, manipulative shrew.

His father: Workaholic, possible sociopath. Might be allergic to hugs and any affection whatsoever.

Adrien: A little needy. Emotionally scarred. Touch starved. Famous. Trust issues. Lacks some basic social skills. Probably going to be in therapy for the rest of his life. Likes to run around in a skintight leather bodysuit.

You know? The basics.

Okay, maybe that’s too much. Too personal. Fine. Whatever.

But at the very least, if he could meet someone and just know, you know?

Know that this is the one.

This is it.

This one.

They’re the one that’s gonna break your heart.

Adrien’s life would be so much easier if he could at least get that one warning.

Maybe he’d run the other way. But maybe he wouldn’t. Adrien had a terrible habit of always making the stupid choice.

Still, it would be nice to know before he gets into deep.

Before his heart isn’t just broken…

It's shattered beyond repair.

Iron’s Kid: When did you realize you weren’t like other guys?

Chat Galore: I was twelve. You?

The first time Adrien realized he might not be like other guys his age came AFTER he put on a magic ring and ran around Paris as a superhero in black spandex. And yes, that statement alone makes him realize how insane he sounds.

But in his defense…

Okay, there was no defense. He didn’t need to defend himself. There was nothing wrong with him. He knew that. There was nothing wrong with…

Iron’s Kid: Fourteen. And it took me completely by surprise. Like a bite in the neck.

Adrien always really liked his penpal. It had been Chloe’s idea. Adrien signed up when he was thirteen, anonymously, through a program at school and was given an American penpal the same age as him. The schools vetted all participants in the program for authenticity. They’ve never told each other their real names, never seen so much as a picture of one another, but still, Iron’s kid became one of the few people who knew him best.

The blond knew a lot about Iron’s Kid too. He even had a list.

Iron’s kid:

A year older than Adrien.

Huge geek like Adrien.

He was a guy.

He loved Legos

Said he had brown hair and eyes.

He was bisexual.

He was really funny.

Really smart. Like Genius smart.

He was an intern at Stark Industries.

He was a huge iron man fan and adored Spiderman a bit as any New Yorker did.

He loved superheroes and memes (like a lot) and stayed up late a lot.

He made as many puns as Adrien did as Chat Noir.

. They got along really well. They texted constantly. And, Iron’s Kid slowly became one of Adrien’s dearest friends. After the first year of being Penpals, Adrien asked if Iron’s Kid wanted to meet. The answer was no. Adrien asked Iron’s Kid at least once a year if they could meet up (or skype or trade pictures); the answer was always No. It was only after Adrien revealed that he was a supermodel, that Iron’s Kid revealed he had a famous face too and just wanted to be treated normally.

That did stop Adrien from still asking once a year. Iron’s Kid was one of the few people, outside of being Chat Noir that Adrien could just be himself with.

But unlike Iron’s Kid…

Honestly, Adrien always kind of knew, ya know?

He was always as into Harry Styles as Chloe was. Maybe a bit more.

When he binged watched Stranger Things with Marinette; he noticed Finn Wolfhard as much as the bluenette did.

Maybe, he noticed Kim’s biceps just a bit too much.

So he started to suspect early on.

He didn’t know for sure until…

Luka.

And that’s the worst (and craziest) part because knew Luka. He had been sort of, kind of, friends with the guitarist for quite some time. He had never even thought of the blue-haired boy like that.

Until one day, Adrien, Marinette, and Luka were playing video games after school. They were just laughing and chilling out like they always do. It was perfectly ordinary.

Then out of nowhere, Adrien noticed just how blue Luka’s eyes were. Then that was it. Suddenly the blond couldn’t help but think how cool Luka was, how funny he was, how artistic. And Adrien was really self-conscious. When Luka was in the same room as him, Adrien was hyper-aware of everything his own body was doing and everything he was saying.

It was like he existed outside it for a few seconds and was just watching the chaos.

How does my hair look?

Why did I JUST say that? No, don’t say that THAT’s even worse.

What is wrong with you?

Don’t stand like that! Who stands like that?

Does it look weird?

Am I being weird?

He totally thinks I’m weird.

Iron’s Kid: How could you NOT have seen Princess Bride?!!!!!?!!

Chat Galore: It doesn’t look like not my type of movie

Iron’s Kid: But you’ve seen the Labyrinth???!!! WTF

Chat Galore: It was my mom’s favorite movie!!! You haven’t seen vampire diaries yet!!!

Iron’s Kid: That is BESIDES the point. Princess Bride is a classic!!!!

Chat Galore: Oh just shut up

Iron’s Kid; As you wish.

Adrien slowly became a blushing, stuttering mess.

And he didn’t know how but somehow this was how Marinette figured it out what was going on.

“…You have a crush on Luka,” Marinette said slowly and quietly, one day after school as they sat in Marinette’s living room as if the words were as hard for her to get out as they were for him to hear.

The two had gotten closer as friends as a result of the Lila situation at school worsening. Once most of the class made it clear how quickly they were willing to drop Marinette for a shiny golden ticket; the blond and bluenette quickly washed their hands of the situation. They decided to let their ex-friends sink or swim on their own.

Adrien did not need fair-weather friends. Marinette was tired of being everyone’s doormat. They decided to sit in the back together and wait for the fireworks. Surprisingly, not long after Nino joined them. The glasses-wearing boy hadn’t cared if Lila was lying or not (though Adrien and Marinette would provide him with enough evidence to convince him later), he just knew that Marinette was his childhood friend and Adrien was his best friend. Nino trusted them, and sure wasn’t going to abandon them.

That was over a year ago. Marinette, Nino, and Adrien were best friends. Then the bluenette and the blond found out they were really Ladybug and Chat Noir effectively ending their crushes on each other. (Though Marinette took a bit longer)

“No!” Adrien said quickly. “I mean, I can’t, I, uh. I used to love Ladybug, remember!”

Marinette shrugged, “So? I dated Kagami for like three months last year, and I’d still wouldn’t say no to seven minutes in heaven with Luka. Or longer,” She smirked. “I used to like you. I’m bisexual; lots of people are.” She then tilted her head. “It’s okay if you like boys.”

Adrien glanced down shyly. At that point, He hadn’t thought too much about his sexuality. He always figured he was straight. It was the standard some people would say. But… Did he? Did he like-like other guys like that?

…He definitely liked Luka like that. But was it just Luka? Maybe Luka was special. And dreamy. And nice to look at. And he made Adrien’s stomach feel a little weird when he was around, “…I have a crush on Luka.”

“Everyone does,” Marinette nodded. “It’s a fact of life. He gets Kagami to blush. Chloe says he not completely awful. Hell, even Nino said, and I quote, ‘if I ever I had to pick a dude.’” She said but then her eyes widened as she looked at Adrien. “Wait! I just realized have you ever had a crush on a girl besides Ladybug? I never heard you talk about any. This is the first crush besides Ladybug.”

Adrien blinked and then blinked again. “I went out with Kagami once,” He offered, and then gave Marinette a playful glare. “Before you stole her away from me.”

“It’s not stealing if she practically jumped into my arms,” Marinette defended with a laugh. “Don’t hate the playa!”

The blond snorted.

“I mean, what did you like about Ladybug?” Marinette asked. “Not me! Not now. But before you knew that I was Ladybug. What did you like about her?”

Adrien bit his lip as he thought, “She was always fun to be around. When I was with her I never had to worry, you know? I could do what I wanted, say what I wanted. There was no pressure or anything. I was just me… but more. And I liked that. It was easy being around her.”

Marinette nodded, “Ladybug used to be the only one you could be free around,” She said. “As Chat Noir, you never had to censor yourself for fear of what your father would do. It was freedom. A type of freedom you always wanted; to be wild and carefree. You got to do that whenever you are Chat Noir, and whenever you were Chat Noir, Ladybug was there. Did you ever… you might’ve… I think you,” She sighed. “…Adrien, I don’t think you ever loved Ladybug. I think you loved how you got to feel when she was around. You might have equated the two.”

It went quiet as Adrien thought about what his friend said. It helped that his crush had been long gone so he could view it without the bias he used to have. And yeah, the more he thought about it, the more he realized Marinette was right. Adrien had been more infatuated with the fun and freedom of being a superhero, being Chat Noir that he ever was with Ladybug.

He also comprehended that His crush had ended it rather instantly the second he found out who was behind the mask. Marinette was amazing; the girl of most guys’ dreams. Yet Adrien just didn’t see her like that. He didn’t have romantic feelings for her. It was then he realized that no matter who was behind the mask, what girl, Adrien wouldn’t have been happy. “She wasn’t real to me,” He admitted. “Not really. Ladybug was this unattainable dream. Anything was possible with her. I got to think up outlandish fantasies all the time of what our future could be and nothing was too extreme or impossible. The second she became real, the fantasy ended, and… I didn’t want her anymore; not like that.” He told Marinette. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you! You’re practically my sister. You’re the best! But… It is strange, I know.”

Marinette shook her head, “It’s not!” She would know better than most what it was like when the fantasy ended and you had faced reality. “We’re kids. Feelings are all haywire.”

“It’ll get easier.” He asked. “I mean it has to. Soon, right?”

“No!” Sabine, Marinette’s mom, called from the kitchen. “Try in about a decade. If you’re lucky!”

“Mama!” Marinette yelled as she face-palmed. “Private conversation.”

“In our very public family room,” Sabine sassed back. “Adrien, honey, besides Luka, have you ever thought about any boys like that?”

Marinette just sighed.

Adrien turned bright red. He had more or less been adopted by the Dupain-chengs, and he was still getting used to having an involved parent. “I, uh, like Kim’s arms.”

“Who doesn’t?” Marinette asked. “Drool-worthy.”

“Harry Styles,” Adrien offered. “I like his face.” The bluenette snorted, earning herself a face full of the pillow. “Oh, you are so helpful!” After that, they erupted into a pillow fight.

Chat Galore: I’m late

Iron’s Kid: For what?

Chat Galore: Reality.

Iron’s Kid: Oooh someone’s feeling deep today. What’s up?

Chat Galore: I’m

Adrien paused writing.

Iron’s Kid: You’re…

Iron’s kid: Chat? You still there?

Chat Galore: I’m gay.

Chat Galore: You’re the first person I’ve told.

Iron’s Kid: I’m honored. And proud of you man.

Chat Galore: TY!!

Iron’s Kid: So who made you realize you were finally into Luka?

Chat Galore: …I hate you. GO AWAY!

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

It took another month, and a lot of introspection but Adrien finally came to terms with it, and while getting ice cream with his friends, he said, “So, yeah, I’m gay.”

“And the sky’s blue,” Chloe shrugged.

Marinette elbowed, “That’s not how we’re supposed to react.”

The blonde huffed, “What? We’re supposed to pretend to be surprised. I’ve known him since we were in diapers. I was there through OUR One Direction phase. We were just little kids but just because he blocked it out or whatever doesn’t mean I forgot he called dips on marrying Harry.”

“All good, dude,” Nino told Adrien. “Still my boy.” He told him. “Does this mean you’re finally gonna ask out Luka?”

“NINO!” Marinette groaned. “I didn’t tell them. I swear!”

“What?” Nino licked his ice cream. “It was obvious Sunshine digs Luka.”

Adrien’s froze. “…How obvious?” Dread slowly crept onto his face.

His friends quickly went to assure him.

“It’s barely noticeable!” Marinette said.

“Everyone wants Luka; he probably doesn’t even realize it at this point!” Went, Nino.

“It’s not as obvious as the crush Marinette had on you!”

“Chloe! Seriously?!”

“What!”

Chat Galore: My friends suck as much as you!

Iron’s kid: Ahh, they call you out on the Luka thing too?

Chat Galore: Fuck off

Iron’s Kid: lol

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

Adrien just groaned, seriously wishing the earth would just swallow him up. It was official all of his friends were completely awful.

Not long after he came out to his father, Nathalie, and Gorilla. His father barely blinked twice and told him not to make a fool of himself. Nathalie scheduled when he’ll announce it officially on twitter. Gorilla at least hugged him.

Lila attempted to convince the class that Adrien was just confused and hiding his feelings for her. But even that was a bit too much to buy. Instead, the class shot the Italian girl pitying looks for being in love with an unreachable guy. Lila seethed with fury as what she thought was her ticket to fame and fortune going up in flame.

Pretty much everything stayed normal though. There were no big fireworks. Adrien never confessed to Luka about his crush; instead joined his dozens of other admirers in mooning from a distance.

Adrien was fine with that. He wasn’t looking for anything for his life to radically change. Or to completely lose his mind over some guy (though he did come close with Luka). In fact, he was rather happy if that never happened.

But since when does he ever get what he wants?

Iron’s Kid: If you could punch anyone in the face, who would it be?

Chat Galore: What did Flash do now?

Chat Galore: And the answer’s: Lila. But Marinette has dips. And then Chloe. Then Kagami for some reason. I’m also after Nino, which doesn’t seem fair.

Chat Galore: …There’s a line to punch Lila.

Iron’s Kid: lol.

Iron’s Kid: Flash embarrassed me in front of Liz. He got everyone at this party chanting the stupid nickname he gave me.

Chat Galore: What a jerk? I vote revenge!

Iron’s Kid: What happened to the high road?

Chat Galore: It went nowhere. Time to light someone’s car on fire now.

Chat Galore: OOOOHHH!!!! Get MJ to put a porn virus on his computer! Let it hit during that school project you guys got next week.

Iron’s Kid: You’re a cruel man. And you and MJ are never allowed meet!

Chat Galore: Lol

Iron’s Kid: I can’t do that. Revenge isn’t my thing. I wouldn’t even care if Liz wasn’t there.

Chat Galore: You really like her, huh?

Iron’s Kid: Yeah I do

Adrien grinned at his phone. Iron had fallen hard for Liz a while back, and it was the cutest thing when he gushed over her. Plus it gave the blond some relief to know that there was someone as bad as him when it came to romance.

Iron’s Kid: So my dads suck

Chat Galore: We should start a club!

Iron’s kid: Lol.

Chat Galore: Your dad or your pops?

Iron’s Kid: Both. They totally freaked out on me! They’re so overprotective it is insane.

Chat Galore: Been there. Am there.

Iron’s Kid: Me and dad totally got into it. He thinks I’m reckless and stupid. Like I don’t know what I’m doing. I just wish he’d trust me

Chat Galore: Stop treating you like you’re a little kid?

Iron’s Kid: Exactly!!!!! I can do this! I know I can! If he just trusts me!

Iron’s Kid: Instead I’m grounded.

Chat Galore: What are you going to do?

Iron’s Kid: Whatever I have to!

Chat Galore: just be safe, ok? I don’t know what’s going on. And I know you can’t tell me. But just Be. Careful. I’d miss you.

Iron’s Kid: I’d miss you too.

Chat Galore: Goodnight!!

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

It was Christmas. Adrien was staying with Marinette’s family while his father was away on business and avoiding all things happiness. Marinette told him that her Uncle was coming. Her dad’s great uncle from New York. He broke up with his boyfriend not too long ago and wanted to get out and see more of the world.

Adrien had expectations of what Marinette’s great uncle would look like – like any Uncle. Old, kind of fat, who made way to many dad jokes, and smelled like mothballs. And he definitely wore tacky clothes.

The guy who walked into the Dupain-Cheng home, following a laughing Tom Dupain, was NOT that guy!!

First of all, he was young; like two or three years older than Adrien and Marinette. He wore was pale with dark eyes and hair. He was dressed in all black and wore an old black leather bomber jacket. He was unnaturally handsome.

“Who is that?” Adrien hissed.

“My uncle,” Marinette said. “I told you he was coming.”

“How is that your great Uncle?”

Marinette shrugged, “Magic. Demigod. Prince of the Underworld. What can you do?” She said. “His name’s Nico.”

Adrien’s life was already so bizarre he didn’t even question the demigod part. All he could see what Nico. His mind turned to mush. “Boing!” He pointed.

“That’s my Uncle, Adrien,” Mariette reminded him

“Sweet! I would be your Aunt,” Adrien said. “Uncle. I don’t care. I’ll be whatever he wants me to be.”

Marinette laughed and got off the couch to greet the newcomer, “Uncle Nico!”

“Marinette!” Nico smiled as he hugged his niece. “I told you to call me Nico.”

“Uncle is a bit weird,” Marinette nodded in agreement as she let go.

As soon Nico let go, he found his arms full of again but this time by a blond, “Uncle Nico.”

“Adrien, right,” Nico said as he hugged the smaller boy, “I’m not your Uncle.”

“Even better!”

Marinette snorted and pulled her friend away.

Nico looked them up and down. “Aww, it’s good you two are still so close. I still got that picture your dad sent me of you two in Halloween costumes; Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.” He said. “Adorable. You two must have been, what eleven?” He shrugged and smiled at Adrien. “It’s been a while. You grew up gorgeous.” And then walked off to say hello to Sabine.

Adrien turned bright red and a big grin spread across his face.

Marinette crossed her arms, and gave him a serious look, “You are not going to be my Aunt.”

“I can’t hear you!” Adrien sang. “Buh dah Bu da da Da!”

“He’s almost eighteen; physically and mentally anyway!” Marinette said. “We’re fifteen.”

“Almost sixteen,” Adrien snapped quickly. “Which is practically seventeen. Which is a skip away from eighteen. Two plus Two, you know?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, “I know Two plus two equals four. But with your logic, two plus two is three with a wig on.”

He hissed at her.

Chat Galore: I think I found my Liz

Iron’s Kid: Someone Completely unattainable, and probably a bad idea?

Chat Galore: MJ or Ned?

Iron’s Kid: …

Chat Galore: Seriously? Give Iron back his phone!

Iron’s Kid:

Chat Galore: WAIT! What do you mean about Liz? What’s going on? Why is she a bad idea?

He would get a response an hour later. It was just after dark.

Iron’s Kid: Sorry! MJ took my phone!

Chat Galore: NP. What’s this about Liz?

Iron’s Kid: A good friend will ignore whatever MJ told you!

Chat Galore: A best friend’s gonna get answers out of you!

Adrien’s phone remained silent as he waited for Iron’s reply.

Iron’s Kid: ‘sigh’ Liz’s dad a supervillain. He tried to kill me.

Chat Galore: Shit. I’m sorry. Are you okay?

Iron’s Kid: It sucks. Liz’s dad in prison. She had to move.

Chat Galore: that blows

Iron’s Kid: Yep

Then Adrien did something daring; something he thought about doing before but just stops short of being brave enough.

He called Iron’s kid. It rang a few times before finally answering?

“Hello?”

“Iron’s kid?” Adrien whispered.

“Chat Galore?” Was said. “You called?”

“I thought you might need someone to talk to,” Adrien said. “Really talk to. It is fine if you don’t want to. I just thought…”

“No!” Was quickly said. “This is great. I mean, yeah. I’m cool with this if you are.”

They ended up talking to each other for hours like they always did. But this time it went on even longer; to the point where Adrien was genuinely surprised to see the sun starting to rise.

It was the first Adrien began to suspect he might be falling a little bit in love with Iron’s Kid.

It didn’t end there. As the weeks went on Iron Kid and Chat Galore kept texting and talking. Iron Kid was going through a hard time and Adrien just wanted to be there for him.

Iron’s Kid: It’s never been easy being me. I love my parents. But normal doesn’t exactly coincide with our last name

Chat Galore: It is like no one can look past it, right? They don’t see you, they see your name. It’s all they care about.

Iron’s kid: Exactly!!!!! Who I am doesn’t matter. Its who my dad is, who my pop’s is. Hell sometimes who my grandfather was, and he died way before I was even born. It’s not fair!

Chat Galore: And you never know if anyone likes you for you. Or if they just want something from you. Or from your dad. You just want people to see YOU for who you are!

Iron’s Kid: Makes it really hard to trust people. My parents always did their best to give me a normal life but

Iron’s Kid: it’s whatever I guess.

Chat Galore: It’s not whatever. And its okay to feel like this.

Iron’s Kid: It’s sometimes I feel a little lost. Or maybe just…

Iron’s Kid: I mean, I can be surrounded by a sea of people and still feel all alone. Like no one really knows me or sees me. Then I think of you. I think of talking to you. And I don’t feel so alone anymore.

Chat Galore: I see you.

Iron’s Kid: I see you too.

Then once more Adrien asked Iron’s Kid if he wanted to meet, even though he knew he’d be turned down. That was fine. Adrien would wait.

If Marinette thought it was over when the holidays ended, she was dead wrong. Nico got an apartment to stay in Paris and to spend time with his family.

And Adrien got used to his brain going all gooey when Nico was around. He always said goofy things; things that made him wish he’d never learned to speak in the first place. He read books that Nico casually mentioned just so they’d have something to talk about. He did ridiculous things try to get the older guy’s attention. And whenever, Nico asked the gang if anyone wanted to hang out, Adrien would be the first to shoot up and practically yell yes.

And all Adrien would get from Nico would be a placating smirk; the same type Nino would give his younger brothers’ when they did something outlandish to impress him.

The weird thing was when Adrien was going all googly-eyes at Nico, they got along really, really well. They both loved art and classic noir films like Gun For hire and Laura. The two once spent an entire afternoon in the museum just talking about the pieces, ignoring the whines of Marinette and Nino who got dragged along.

Still no matter what Adrien did Nico never took the hint to ask Adrien out. Or even hint that he was open to Adrien possibly asking him out.

His friends got used to Adrien sighing wistfully.

“Gods’ he so handsome, it makes my face hurt,” Adrien whined.

Marinette giggled, “You’re young, you’re dumb.”

“Just so we’re clear,” Chloe pointed a fork at him that still had a bit of salad on it, “That those are not necessarily correlated. You’re just an idiot.”

Nino leaned forward, “Bro, just ask him out!” He said with his mouth half full of pizza.

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Marinette, Chloe, and Nino asked/yelled at him.

“What if he says no?” Adrien asked, because duh, why else wouldn’t he have asked Nico out already.

Chloe glared at him, “Then you look in the mirror and remind yourself that you’re the second hottest dude, around our age, in Paris?”

“Ahh, Luka’s first,” Marinette put in.

Nino raised his hand, “Just so we’re clear, I’m at least in the top ten, yeah?” Silence. “Guys? Top fifteen?” Nothing. “Top twenty?”

“Eehh,” Chloe offered as she flipped her hand side to side rapidly.

Nino grinned, “I’ll take it!”

It all came to a head during the Dupain-Cheng family game. Marinette invited Chloe, Nino, and Adrien, who had become Tom and Sabine’s additional adopted children, when Tom walked in, with Nico trailing behind him. “Family game night to the max!” Tom cheered.

Nico chuckled and gave everyone their hellos.

Marinette holding a hat on her lap, “Time to pick the games tonight: Mom, Chloe, and Nico’s turn to draw from the hat.

Sabine drew Uno.

Chloe drew Pictionary.

Nico drew dungeons and dragons which caused everyone in the room to groaned, “What?”

“That game always takes forever,” Nino whined.

Marinette flopped on the couch dramatically, “Mom’s always the dungeon master and she never lets us win. Dad always dies before anything good starts.”

“We always get frustrated,” Chloe added with an eye-roll. “And snap and try to kill each other!”

“In the game?” Nico asked.

Nino glared at his friends, “Not. Always. Marinette!” He called her out, and she had the decency to blush. “Some people walk with scars.”

“Mental and emotional ones,” Adrien winced. “Marinette.”

Chloe caught Nico’s confused look, and explained, “Marinette’s a bit competitive.”

“A bit!” Everyone else in the room said.

“Let’s just play!” Marinette gave them a playful glare.

Uno was fast. Marinette won, of course.

Pictionary resulted in tears. (Sabine was just as competitive as her daughter, and Tom was a bit sensitive.)

The Dungeons and Dragons came took hours. Tom died right away and was content to watch the show. The kids turned on each other by the second hour, and it took Nico’s taking leadership and forcing them all to work together to achieve victory, for the suffering to stop.

By the end, nearly everyone in the room was dead asleep, their characters long since dead, apart from Marinette, Sabine, Adrien, and Nico. Until the die was rolled for the final time and Marinette raised her tired arms in victory, “Finally. Six hours, friends came together on a harrowing quest; the longest game of my life. And we finally, finally won!”

Seconds after she was cuddled against her mother, both having fallen asleep.

Adrien gave them a sleepy smile from where he sat on the floor before every cell in his body suddenly felt like it was hit by lightning when he caught Nico’s dark eyes staring at him. It was then that Adrien realized that, with the others all asleep, this was the first time Nico and he were ever technically alone together.

Be cool, he thought. Just be cool, damn you.

It was all for naught as Nico got up off the couch and went to sit next to Adrien, who let out a small happy squeak.

“Let’s talk,” Nico told Adrien, who fought to stop his entire body from shaking. “We’re sort of friends, right?”

Adrien winced a little but nodded eagerly, “Yep, friends, totally. I’m happy being friends. Yeah, friendship!” He waved his fist around in a small cheer and died a little inside as soon as he did it.

Why am I such a loser, he asked himself.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yes, sure,” Adrien said. “Anything. Whatever you want. You can ask me anything too. I’ll probably say yes. I’ll defiantly say yes. Yes!”

Nico just gave him a small smile, “When I was just about your age, maybe a bit younger, I had a crush on this older guy Percy. I was ten when I met him. He was fourteen, almost fifteen. In my eyes, he was all my dreams come to life; a real-life Greek demi-god hero. He fought monsters, saved lives. I had the biggest crush on him instantly,” He told Adrien. “Not that I knew it then. I was too young. I was from a completely different time where things like a man liking a man just were okay, or… Or Legal. I didn’t handle it well. Even worse after my sister died and wrongly placed at least part of the blame of unfairly on him. It took me a long time to realize I never hated him, I hated myself. I only stopped hating myself when I realized and accepted I was gay. And a little bit in love with Percy.”

Adrien had no idea where this was going but he listened intensely. He always enjoyed listening to Nico whenever he told tales about his life as a demigod.

“Still I ended up doing a lot of stupid things,” Nico said. “Just to get his attention, to help him; to get him to fall for me back. A lot of stupid things.” He chuckled. “When I found out he was Bi, I thought I had a chance. But I didn’t. I never would’ve. Percy just saw me as a brother. I was too young for him. Way too young. There was no way Percy could’ve ever seen me like that. I accepted that. I moved on. I got over him. I even admitted to him about my crush; after telling him that he wasn’t my type. Asshole fell down laughing.”

Adrien laughed a bit.

“We’re still friends,” Nico added. “Great friends actually. And I’m glad. Do you know why I’m telling you this?”

The blond frowned and suddenly found the game board very interesting. Because, yes he did know why Nico was telling him this.

“You know I’m too told for you, right?” Nico asked quietly as to not wake up the others.

“Yeah,” Adrien nodded slowly, his throat felt a little dry, and his eyes stung. “I know. I kind of always knew.” He glanced at the Dungeons and Dragons, and a strange sense of hope-filled him. The blond shot the older dark-haired boy a smirk, “But I’m playing the long game.”

Adrien tried to be hopeful about it. Or least pretend to but…

Chat Galore: I just got my heartbroken.

Iron’s Kid: That Douchebag. I knew that weird death kid was no good!

Chat Galore: He’s not that bad. He said I’m too young for him. I get he’s trying to be a good guy but…

Iron’s Kid: It still hurts.

Chat Galore: Yep

Iron’s Kid: I get that. How about we watch Star Wars and make fun of Kylo Ren, that’ll make you feel better!

Chat Galore: I’ve seen less teen angst in my high school. The dude has problems!

And that’s what they did. They texted each other while watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens; sending each other stupid memes and jokes. And Adrien felt a lot better by the end it of it.

Chat Galore: Thanks for this btw. I think I really need this.

Iron’s Kid: No Problem

Iron’s Kid: And for what it’s worth, I’d never turn you down.

Adrien stared at that message for an hour, mentally screaming. Because… What. The. Hell.

Chat Galore: Oh be quiet! Lol

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

The next day, Adrien sent Iron’s Kid another request to meet. The answer was a simple: Not Yet. That was Fine. Adrien would wait.`

“You are not playing the long game, Adrien Agreste,” Chloe glared at him. “Do you hear me? I will not take this into my twenties.”

They had talked Adrien into ditching one of his many lessons and were hanging out downtown. Eating ice cream.

“But!”

“No!”

“I agree with her man,” Nino said, and Adrien gave him big green puppy dog eyes. “You can spend your life swooning over some guy. There’s other fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want fish,” Adrien complained. “I just someone to ride the Ferris Wheel with me!”

“Ferris Wheel?” Nino asked confused.

“Gay culture,” Chloe explained.

Marinette nodded, “We just mean that… You need to Get some more life skills. Learn how to talk to guys. Get cool!”

“I’m cool!” Adrien defended and was met with multiple snorts. “I am. I got my dad to let me have more freedom. I paint. I went to comic con last year. I ride the metro now. And I can talk guys. I’ve successfully learned how to be cool.”

Chloe smirked, “Okay, let's see how you react when you see him,” She looked over his shoulder. “Guy’s been checking you out since we got here.”

“I’m cool,” Adrien said as he casually glanced over his shoulder and saw just who was checking him out, he let out a series of nervous chuckles. And couldn’t stop.

The guy looked about his age, with dark hair and blue eyes, a jawline that was similar to ones Adrien’s had seen on Greek statues; and he had muscles, so many muscles. He sat on a park bench and was writing or sketching in a red notebook.

Nino shook his head, “Yeah you still need some lessons in cool.”

“Lesson one: go talk to him,” Chloe demanded.

Adrien’s eyes went wide, and he let out a squeak. “Nope! Can’t do it. Won’t do it!”

His friends shared a look, and Adrien suddenly fears for his life. He found himself all but pushed/carried over to the guy on the park bench. He struggled a bit. Suddenly when they got close enough, Adrien was pushed (By gleeful and vindictive looking Chloe, his official witch of an ex-best friend), right into park bench guy, who caught him at the last second. And Adrien found himself sitting in the lap of a virtual stranger.

“Hi?” Adrien offered weakly. “Me and my friends were just talking about you.”

The guy gave him a big smile, “I know,” He said. “I figured. I’m Jon.” He said with a southern American accent. “Jon Kent. And you can talk about me any time you want.”

“Adrien,” The blond laughed. “Adrien Agreste.”

“I like your laugh, Adrien.”

“I like your smile, Jon.”

Then Adrien’s phone started ringing. It was Nathalie and Adrien had to rush home. Mourning his chances of ever seeing Jon again. He was probably a tourist who’d be gone the next day, the blond figured.

Chat Galore: I have the worst luck with guys!

Iron’s Kid: I don’t know. I think you have better luck than you think.

Chat Galore: Lol. What’s up with you lately.

Iron’s Kid: Flash finally left me alone. All it took was a school field trip to my job. Suddenly I’m not a liar anymore!

Chat Galore: Oh I would’ve killed to his face, lol.

Iron’s Kid: It was basically the crying emoji.

Iron’s Kid: Oh yeah, I met this guy named Johnny; totally gorgeous, rides a motorcycle, and my dads’ hate him

Chat Galore: Last ones’s the best part, right?

Iron’s Kid: YES!!

The next morning Adrien and his friends were happily sitting in the back of the class. The other kids in the class ignored them as usual. Even Lila more or less pretended they didn’t exist. (Though she had been reluctant to let Adrien go and had made several attempts to get him under her thumb. Until Adrien got his dad to fire her under threat of dying his hair neon green, and wearing plaid, the one pattern his father hated above all others.)

They had entered a cold war with her. As long as she stopped trying to make their lives hell, they’d stop exposing trying to expose her.

Bustier was once again proving she had no control over her classroom as she struggled to teach a simple history lesson about the French Revolution. It didn’t make a lick of sense and Bustier tried way to hard to get the kids to relate on a personal level.

“History shows that bad things happen when you don’t know who you are,” Bustier said just as the classroom door opened and in walked two boys and a girl.

Adrien’s eyes went wide, and leaned over to Chloe, “Park bench guy!” He whispered.

“Foreign exchange students,” One of the boys said. He had dark hair, green eyes, olive skin, and a thoroughly unimpressed look on his handsome face. He wore a black turtle neck and slacks. “Damian Wayne, Gotham.”

“Lian Nguyen-Harper-Queen,” Said the girl. She had Auburn hair and gray eyes. Lian wore a pink headband, a pink cardigan over a white top and blue shorts.

“Hi I’m Jon Kent,” He said. Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a simple t-shirt and blue jeans. “I split my time between the Farm in Smallville and Metropolis.” He looked at the back of the classroom straight at Adrien. “And I’m happy to be here.”

Bustier nodded, “Welcome. Always happy to get new students! Let's find you some seats…” She looked around the room.

“OH! Damian can sit with me!” Lila waved her hand. “I’ll be happy to show him around.”

“Declined,” Damian simply said. “We’ll sit in the back.”

Alya leaned forward, “But Lila’s goes to Gotham and Metropolis all the time!” She said and didn’t notice the way Lila paled. She seemed to have forgotten Damian Wayne was apart of her many, many lies. “Damian, you showed her around last time she was there. You guys became such a good friend. She just wants to return the favor.”

Damian scoffed, “I’ve never seen this girl before in my life.”

Marinette smirked at Adrien, “You’re going to need to move. I have a new best friend.”

“Mean,” Adrien said. “But understandable. Still not moving.”

Jon and Damian sat in empty seats in front of Adrien and Marinette.

Jon turned around in his seat, “Hi.”

Adrien smiled shyly, “Hi.”

Then they just stared at each other.

Chloe let out a long-suffering sigh, “Oh this gonna be exhausting.”

Iron’s Kid: Best day EVER!!!

Chat Galore: SAME! What happened?

Iron’s Kid: Johnny asked me out!

Chat Galore: AWESOME!!!

Chat Galore: Park Bench Guy is in my class NOW!!!

Iron’s Kid: ‘High Five’ Maybe fate DOESN’T hate us.

Chat Galore: …

Chat Galore: …I swear to the Gods if you jinxed us

The two guys in class quickly joined the Adrien’s friends’ group. They blended in seamlessly like they were always there as the weeks went on. Before anyone knew it, they were pretty much attached to hips. Even going as far as joining family game night.

Through them; Damian, Lian, and Jon were able to get all the information they needed to survive Paris. The three had heard whispers of Hawkmoth but had been a little shocked when the Akuma alert went off and everyone had to duck for cover. After the third or fourth time, the new kids got used to it and easily swallowed the excuses Marinette, Adrien, Chloe, and Nino made about having to run off and go home during alerts.

Around the same time as the fourth akuma of the new semester hit, three new heroes arrived in Paris.

Well, new wouldn’t necessarily be the right word. They weren’t new heroes, they were just new to Paris.

Robin, Superboy, and Arrowette. They assisted in fighting back akuma that turned people into candy; a toddler whose mother refused to buy him sweets. Afterward, they explained that they would be in the city for quite some time, and would assist when they are able.

They didn’t reveal why they were there though. All Robin said was, “Justice League business.” And the Parisian heroes decided to leave it at that after offering to help if needed.

Paris went nuts over the arrival of the new heroes.

Alya cried in class when she found out Ladybug gave Aurore the exclusive interview about what was going on. Ladybug also publically endorsed Bugout, Aurore’s website, as the only reliable main source for credible information on the Parisian heroes. She didn’t say a word about Ladyblog, which was pretty much all anyone needed to know what they had already expected.

Ladybug hadn’t given an exclusive on the Ladybug blog in almost two years but now it was official…

The Ladyblog was out. Alya was out.

Time went on. The kids grew closer as friends. Jon and Adrien got closer as… Well, Adrien didn’t know.

He did know that his dad despised Jon because of time he picked Adrien up wearing a green plaid shirt but Gabriel wouldn’t admit it. Jon was the son of famous reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson to Lex Luther. And Gabriel Agreste was anything but stupid.

“I miss my family,” Jon told Adrien one day while they were studying in the library. “All the time. But I guess also miss the pets I have.”

“I always wanted a dog,” Adrien said.

“In Smallville, I have twelve chickens,” Jon said. “Three horses, four pigs, two cows, and a dog.”

The blond nodded, “You win. Tell me about them.”

And Jon did. He told all about his life in Smallville and metropolis. And Adrien told him what it was like growing up in Paris and being a supermodel.

Adrien grinned, “I want to be a lawyer when I get older,” he told Jon. “I want to fight for people who can’t fight for themselves. Like I read about this law firm called Nelson and Murdock who take all these pro bono cases to help people who usually have no chance of winning against bigger, bad-er, and richer people. It gets really dangerous for them but they just keep helping. Because it’s the right thing to do. I want to do that too!”

“I think when I grow up…” Jon said slowly. “I want to be like my mom. She goes above and beyond to get her story; to find out what’s really going on in the world and reports it honestly. I want to do that too. I want to be an investigative journalist. I want to hunt down the truth. Because people deserve the truth, even if they don’t like it. I know the truth can be scary sometimes, and a bit sad. But They deserve to hear it. But I’ve probably said too much.” He laughed.

“No,” Adrien shook his head, and smiled, “Tell me more.”

Still the more their friendship and bonds of trust grew, the more Lila became frustrated. As far as she was concerned things just weren’t going her way. First, she lost her future as the world-famous fashion model Lila Rossi/Mrs. Adrien Agreste. Then Damian Waynes comes to town and won’t even look twice at her; too busy trailing after Miss Goody two-shoes. Then she finds out that Jon Kent is the son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent, godson of Lex Luther, only AFTER she privately threatened to make his life hell for siding with Marinette. She didn’t bother to try to get close to Lian Queen, granddaughter of Oliver Queen, the girl had been glaring at her since the second she heard Lila tell her first lie.

So instead of The Italian girl, once again, tried to sow dissension in the class, tried to force Damian to sit next to her; loudly bragged about her trips and famous people she knew to get attention. Damian ignored her. Then she tried making Marinette look bad again; lied about how the bluenette was bullying her. It didn’t work. Damian was quick to point out inconsistencies in her tales.

That didn’t stop the class from believing them.

“Morons,” Damian called them one day after school.

“They’re not that bad,” Marinette tried.

“They kinda are, dudette,” Nino said. “I really expected Alya to catch on by now. But it’s like she doesn’t want to.”

Chloe scoffed, “Of course she doesn’t!” The blond sneered. “She betrayed her best friend, ditched her best friend, broke up with her boyfriend, pretty much led the charge in exiling us, spread Lila’s lies on her blog which included Lies about Ladybug. It’s not just admitting she was wrong.”

“It’s having to deal with consequences,” Lian agreed. “That Alya got herself into this mess. If Marinette and all us aren’t the bad guys in this, that means she is. That’s a hard pill to swallow.”

Jon shook his head, “I don’t understand why Lila lies so much,” he said. “Dad’s always told me honesty is the best policy.”

“You’re a long way from the farm, boy scout,” Damian tsk’d.

“Damian,” Marinette sighed and grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him away.

Adrien snickered, “Those two are so into each other, it’s not even funny!”

“I know,” Jon laughed in agreement. “I’ve never seen Damian be so nice to anyone before. I’ve known him since we were in the sandbox, and he just stopped calling me Kent last year.”

“Yeah…” Chloe drawled. “Watching two people dance around each other for months, neither making a move. It’s the worst.”

“Waiting for one of them to finally make a move,” Nino said, “Literally. Kill. You. Inside.”

Lian nodded, “They like each other. Everyone knows they like each other. And Yet nothing. And we'll have no choice but watch and wait for them to pull their heads out of their asses,” She told them. “When all you want to scream is: hey, you two! Just freaking kiss already!”

“Yep the absolute worst,” Nino repeated.

Then Lian, Chloe, and Nino stared blatantly at Jon and Adrien who merely shrugged.

“Damian will make a move soon,” Jon assured.

“I’ll try to get Marinette to say something,” Adrien promised.

“…I hate you,” Chloe said.

Adrien gave her another confused look. Because what did he do wrong now?

Chat Galore: Dude!

Iron’s Kid: Dude!

Chat Galore: I need Hufflepuff support now!

Iron’s Kid: …Crap, I never told you Pottermore sorted me into Gryffindor, did i?

Chat Galore: WHAT!

Chat Galore: Traitor. Never talk to me again

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

“How do I look?” Marinette asked as she twirled around in the living room. She wore a soft pink dress. Her hair was down and slightly curved. She looked like a princess from a fairytale.

“Flawless,” Adrien said, for the tenth time. “Why am I here?”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him, “Because!�� She said. “You’re my bestie. I have my first real date. Chloe’s shopping with Lian. Nino won’t answer my calls. I need you here!”

“Take a deep breath, Mari!” Adrien told her. “You look absolutely beautiful. Damian’s already head over heels for you, and the way you look is gonna make his purpose.”

The bluenette blushed a lovely pink, “Shut up!”

The door opened, and in walked Nico, “Looking lovely, niece,” He said. “Big date tonight, huh?”

“Yes,” Marinette sighed dreamily. “He’ll be here soon.”

Nico smirked, “Good. Don’t worry, I’ll only threaten him a little.”

“Nico!”

The dark-haired boy chuckled before flopping down on the couch. “Hey, Adrien.”

Adrien felt his mind go a little mushy. He never quite got over his crush on the older boy. At least not yet.

The two still hung out every now and then, still always with Marinette. Nico frequently split his time between New York and Paris. So Adrien didn’t see him that often, though Nico had been around to wish Adrien a happy 16th birthday.

Adrien tried to play it cool, but ended up sitting in awkwardly in the recliner, “Hey Nico!” His voice squeaked, and once more Adrien wanted to die.

The doorbell rang.

Damian brought Marinette a dozen red roses, let himself be mildly threatened by Nico, endured the massive amount of pictures Tom and Sabine took and ignored Adrien’s snickering in the background. Then the two love birds were gone. Sabine and Tom went to go finish closing the bakery for the night. And then it was just Adrien and Nico.

“So,” Nico said as he put his feet on the couch. “What are you doing tonight, Blond Wonder? Any plans?”

Adrien shook his head, “Not really,” Jon was visiting his parents. Nino was watching his siblings. “I’ll just go home and watch Bleach. Or something.” Stuff his mouth with the hidden box of Oreos he had.

“Why don’t you hang out with me?” Nico offered. “The Maltese Falcon at the old theater on 3rd street. It’s your favorite right?”

Adrien nodded eagerly, “Me and my Mom used to watch it all the time.”

The two had a great time at the movie theater and ended up staying to watch another movie. They laughed. They ate lots of overpriced junk food. They talked. And Adrien finally managed to have a non-blushing, stammering, mind mushed, conversation with Nico. It was still just a bit awkward but it was not the cause of something either of them did.

At the end, Nico walked Adrien to the front door of his house.

“It’s weird,” Nico said, “But I kind of always forget how great it is hanging out with you.”

Adrien shrugged, “You’re not too bad yourself,” Then he smirked, “Though you’d probably be happier if you add some color to your wardrobe. Do own anything that’s not the color of sadness?”

Nico barked a laugh, “I am the son of Hades,” He defended himself. “It’s our aesthetic, okay. And we all can’t be made from rainbows and sunshine.”

“Excuses.”

The dark-haired boy shook his head, and smirked at Adrien, “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.” He said as he backed away.

“Yeah,” Adrien smiled. “Go to the beach, see what happens when you go out in the daylight. Even money, you burst into flames.

Nico chuckled as he turned around, “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

“Night, Twilight!”

“You’re dead to me!” Nico called back.

Ladybug and Chat Noir and the other Parisian heroes got used to the Three Justice League sidekicks appearing out of nowhere and assisting in battle. It had been strange at first; a little tense. Mostly due to Robin interrogating them every chance he got. Arrowette glaring menacingly at them. Even Superboy was a bit intimidating. Still, they never revealed why there in Paris.

During this time, Adrien and Jon became much better friends. And the blond started to suspect that Jon would prefer to just stay friends with him.

Iron’s Kid: Johnny and Me are over.

Chat Galore: Ouch. What happened?

Iron’s Kid: ‘Dramatic Sigh’ we’re just too different, you know?

Chat Galore: Different is not always bad. You really liked him, right?

Chat Galore: And did you actually type ‘Dramatic Sigh’, you dramatic bitch?

Iron’s Kid: I like that he was different at first. But we barely had anything in common. We were fire in and ice. Sure it is steamy at first but when the steam is gone…

Iron’s Kid: And yes I did

Chat Galore: You okay?

Iron’s Kid: I’m fine. I just realized I want someone I can talk to about everything and nothing.

Chat Galore: Someone to geek out over Star Trek with, and go to when you need a shoulder to lean on.

Iron’s Kid: Someone who’d stay up all night talking just because he wants to be there for me.

Chat Galore: Dating shouldn’t be this hard

Iron’s Kid: It’ll only get harder.

Chat Galore: Shut. Up.

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

For Marinette’s sixteenth birthday, she had a party. It was much bigger than she wanted, but not smaller than her friends tried to make it. The bluenette was always there for them, and they wanted to remind her how special was.

However, for the first time, Adrien was pleased to say, he was not the one trying to overdue everything to the extreme. Chloe was pleased that she wasn’t the one making the party planner cry whenever she called them. Nino was pleased that he wasn’t the one to be overly critical of the musical entertainment for being just a bit subpar.

No! That was Damian Wayne.

And unlike Marinette’s best friends, Marinette’s boyfriend’s craziness could not be contained.

The party was huge. There were hundreds of balloons. Everyone was wearing fanciest party clothes. There were hundreds of balloons. Gourmet food. All of Marinette’s friends, close acquaintances, and anyone who loved and or adored her had shown up. Jagged had come. Cara Nightingale did a surprise performance.

Adrien had a blast. His friends found out that while the blond boy had lessons in practically everything, dance wasn’t one of them. He was a terrible dancer. Laughably bad. Still, everyone had fun. Nino danced in a giant glow in the dark dinosaur costume.

Then Marinette, Adrien, Nino, Chloe got on stage and sang Born to Brave from High School Musical: The Series. Damian, Jon, and Lian joined them. The crowd sang with. Bubbles filled the air. It was exhilarating.

So much so that Adrien stepped out to take a small break. He sat on a white wood bench outside, looking up at the stars, and let the cool brisk night air relax him. Even from where he sat, he could still hear music playing from the party.

“Needed a breather,” Jon asked as he sat down next to Adrien.

“Parties,” Adrien shrugged. “They can be a bit much.”

Jon shifted in his seat, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”

Then Blue eyes met green…

And then everything suddenly felt really the world was holdings breath. Adrien had no idea where the tension came from but it was there. And it was like he was waiting for some imaginary bubble to burst. And Adrien just… Ugh!

He glanced down at his hands, suddenly not knowing what to do with them. He was also intensely aware of every millimeter Jon so much as moved. In fact, Adrien was aware of everything, including how many times he was blinking.

“This kind of reminds me of how we met,” Adrien finally blurted.

Jon cast him a curious look but nodded, “Yeah, the park bench, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

There it went quiet.

“Why are parties a bit much?” Jon asked.

“Not all parties,” Adrien said. “Just the ones my dad usually drags me to. Everyone is always overly polite while giving backhanded compliments; they pretend to be nice but they don’t mean it. No one’s straight forward. I don’t know why it is so hard.”

“It’s not!” Jon turned to him. “Let’s try it now. Hi, I’m Jon and…” He took two plugs out of his ears, “…I wear earplugs because I can’t handle loud noises sometimes.”

Adrien chuckled, “Hi. I’m Adrien. And apparently, I’m a terrible dancer.”

“God Awful!”

“Hey!”

Jon laughed, “My little Pony is one my favorite shows.

“I once had an imaginary friend named Phineas!”

“I like fried broccoli!”

“I like fried Oreos.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Oh because fried broccoli so much better.”

“Hey, being straight forward here!” Jon defended. “I like raining days over sunny.”

Adrien smiled, “I like you,” he took a deep breath. “Like really like you.” He glanced down and then back up at Jon and tried to be brave. “Like I the way I thought you might’ve used to like me but don’t anymore.”

“Really?” Jon asked looking just a bit stunned. “How very straight forward of you.”

Adrien stood up quickly, slightly panicked, “That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say. If you don’t like me anymore, I get it.” He said. “I… I just really wanted you to tell you. Even if you change your mind.”

“Adrien,” Jon said, standing up too, facing the blond. “I’ve never changed my mind.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Adrien. “I really like you too.”

Adrien and Jon held hands as they walked back into the party.

Later, after the party ended, Adrien would tell Marinette, Chloe, and Nino about his first kiss, and go partially death from Marinette and Chloe’s screams.

Chat Galore: You know what I like?

Chat Galore: Life!

Iron’s Kid: Things going good then?

Chat Galore: Jon kissed me. My grades are perfect. My dad’s letting me cut back on modeling.

Iron’s Kid: Awesome! You’ve need a break.

Chat Galore: We need a happy song!

Iron’s Kid: We. Do. Not.

Chat Galore: We need a happy song so when we can sing the happy song when we’re happy.

Iron’s Kid: We will never have a happy song.

Iron’s Kid: That’s more of a Hufflepuff thing

Chat Galore: I’d be offended if it wasn’t true!

Adrien’s life really was going great. He became good friends with Nico. Lila’s lies in the class were starting to unravel, and she was quickly losing her supporters. Jon and him were sort of, kind of, officially dating. The sun was shining. Rainbows were everywhere.

…He should’ve known it wouldn’t last forever.

Adrien got a 911 group text from Chloe; with like a dozen exclamation points and several frowny faces so he knew it was serious.

When he got to Chloe’s place, he found Marinette and Nino already waiting on the couch, while Chloe paced the floor. Adrien joined on the couch.

“Okay,” Marinette said. “We’re all here. What’s up? What’s the emergency?”

“They’re spies,” Chloe hissed, rage clear on her face. “Lian, Jon, Damian; they’ve been spying on us all this time.”

“What? Dude, no way!” Nino shook his head. “They’re our friends. Lian hates traitors!”

“Damian would never!” Marinette denied. “He loves me. I love him.”

Adrien agreed, “They’d never do that us. Jon couldn’t. He’s like the most honest kid ever.”

Chloe picked up a nearby face and smashed against the wall, “They’re two-faced lying little creeps.” She yelled. Though it was clear she was angry, they could also see the hurt clear in the blonde’s eyes.

“Chloe…” Marinette started slowly but was cut off.”

“Lian is Arrowette!” Chloe growled. “Jon’s Superboy. And I’ll give you one big fat guess who Damian is. And for the record he is not as wonderful as his nickname implies.”

Pollen flew out from wherever she was hiding, “It’s true!” She said. “I saw them myself. They are the American heroes.”

“Pollen followed them,” Chloe explained. “She saw everything. They’ve been following us. Reporting intel to the Justice League all about us. That’s why they’re here. That’s why they got close to us. They know we’re heroes!”

Horror and understandingly slowly crept over Nino, Marinette, and Adrien’s faces.

Pollen nodded eagerly, “They have reports all about your lives in and out of the mask. It's very detailed.”

Adrien was glad he was sitting down because he felt like the floor has disappeared under his feet. Shakily, he stood up, “I need too…” He shook his head. “I have too…” He couldn’t finish his sentence instead he just ran from the room.

And kept running and running.

Until he found himself standing in front of the apartment where Jon, Lian, and Damian lived. He stared at the olive green door as if he didn’t recognize it. As if he hadn’t been there, in that same spot, standing in front of that door, a hundred times before.

He closed his eyes and he knocked.

Jon opened the door, “Adrien!” He had a large grin on his face that slowly disappeared when he saw the look on the blond boy’s face.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, yeah!” Jon moved out of the way to let Adrien pass. “Is everything okay?”

Adrien walked into the living room and saw Damian and Lian sitting on the couch, “Go see Marinette,” He ordered Damian. “If you want any chance of saving your relationship, if you ever really loved her like you said you; you will go see Her. Right. Now.”

That was all Damian needed to here to fly out of the room.

Adrien turned to Lian, “I need to speak with Jon alone, please,” He said as politely as possible. “I would suggest going to go speak with Nino and Chloe.”

Lian frowned but nodded and left the room.

“Adrien, what’s going on?” Jon asked again. “You’re scaring me.”

Adrien let out a shorter bitter laugh, “I’m going to ask you three questions, and I need to be honest with me, okay? Is your name Jon Kent?

“Yes,” Jon stated firmly. “Jonathan Kent Lane.”

“Are we friends?”

“Of course!”

Adrien nodded and swallowed the lump that was building in his throat, “Why did you really come to Paris?”

Jon frowned, “I’m here on a foreign exchange-” Adrien cut him off.

“Don’t lie to me, Superboy!”

The boy of Steel flinched back.

“Tell me it isn’t true!” Adrien all but begged. “Tell me you didn’t come here to spy on Chat Noir and Ladybug and everyone else. Tell me this wasn’t all a big lie. Tell me you weren’t using me for information. Tell me! Tell me wrong I’m, please.”

“Adrien…” Jon whispered, pain on his face. “I’m sorry.”

That was Adrien needed to here. “All this time. You… I thought… Was any of it real? Was anything you ever told me real? Do I even know you?” He asked. “

“The Justice League was concerned about Hawkmoth,” Jon tried to explain. “They received intelligence that Ladybug and Chat Noir were teenagers, and wanted to know more. They sent us.”

Adrien just stared at him, “I like you,” He said. “I really liked you. You were my friend, Did you do all just because you were ordered to?”

“No!” Jon nodded, “I swear. I’d never do that to you, to anyone.”

“But you thought it was okay to kiss me,” Adrien said “To date me! When I had no idea who you are really?”

Jon tossed his hands in the air, “You know who I am. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the same guy. I’m still me!”

“Everything’s changed!” Adrien yelled. “I’m questioning everything. Everything I’ve ever said to you, everything we ever did together!” His entire body shook. “You were sent to get close to us. You were sent to get close to me. To. Get. Information.”

It went quiet. Neither knowing what to say.

“…That day in the park,” Adrien whispered. “You were on the bench and Chloe thought you were checking me out. You weren’t, were you? You were watching me, us. Gathering intel. Weren’t you?”

Jon looked away, “…Yeah, I was.”

You knew I was Chat Noir even then?”

“I did.”

Adrien nodded, “It’s been a lie since the beginning,” He clenched his fists. “In the library, you told me that people deserve the truth. I believed in you. I trusted you. I told you things I’ve haven’t even told people who’ve known my entire life. Because I trusted you. I trusted you were honest and good and you would tell me the truth. Why didn’t I deserve the truth?”

He looked up at the mantle that was covered in pictures of people that Adrien knew as friends and family of Jon, Damian, and Lian, and at all of the pictures of Chloe, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette together with the three; laughing and smiling. And it hurt to look at it. “You’ve been here for almost a year. You three pretended to be our friends, to care, for almost a year.”

“It wasn’t pretend. Or a lie,” Jon looked ready to cry. “You are our friends!”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “Then Why? If we were your friends, why?”

Jon shrugged, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Everything was so complicated. We were never supposed to be here this long. It was our first big mission. The first mission JL trusted us to handle alone. I could give you a thousand excuses but I know they wouldn’t be good enough.”

“They wouldn’t be,” Adrien agreed. “They aren’t. They never will be.”

It went silent again. Jon and Adrien just stared at each other.

“You weren’t sent to get close us,” Adrien repeated. “Not just learn about Hawkmoth. But you were specifically sent to get close us; learn who we are as heroes and as civilians. Hawkmoth was a bonus. But you were sent for Ladybug and Chat Noir and Queen Bee and Carapace. Right?”

Jon looked down, away from Adrien’s soul-piercing gaze, and admitted, “You were the mission.”

Adrien closed his eyes, stood up straight, and with every ounce of control he could muster, he calmly said, “Goodbye, Jon.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” Jon said.

“That doesn’t really matter, because, in the end, it all hurts the same,” Adrien replied and left.

For the next few hours, Jon saying, “You were the mission,” Kept echoing in Adrien’s head on a loop.

Not long after leaving Jon’s place, Adrien would find himself in Marinette’s room, letting the bluenette cry her eyes out into his shoulder, shedding his own tears too. Chloe would arrive next with bloodshot eyes, and cuddle next to them. Nino, just after her, looking like a wreck and would take the spot next to Adrien.

It would be hours before they’d calm themselves down. But it wouldn’t be until the next day that any of them managed to ask what they should next.

Chloe spitefully suggested kicking them out of Paris.

Nino agreed halfheartedly.

Adrien was fine with just ignoring them. At least he hoped that he could. He would try really, really hard to.

Marinette didn’t say a word. Instead, she just let them talk with a faraway look on her face.

In the end, it wouldn’t matter.

By Monday, Jon, Damian, and Lian would be gone. Bustier would announce that the exchange program ended.

And Adrien would find himself frequently staring at Jon’s empty seat.

Chat Galore: So it turns out… Jon’s a big jerk

Chat Galore: He wasn’t who I thought he was.

Chat Galore: It’s complicated but to summarize he’s a jerk.

Iron’s Kid: Screw Prince Charming if he turned out to be a warty, jerky frog.

Iron’s Kid: You deserve better.

Chat Galore: To quote Gabriella Montez: Now I know you're not a fairy tale And dreams were meant for sleeping And wishes on a star Just don't come true

Iron’s Kid: Crap, you're quoting high school musical. You're really hurting, aren’t you.

Iron’s Kids: Want to watch shitty Disney Channel movies and talk?

Chat Galore: …Yes.

Three months, two weeks, six days, nine hours, and twelve minutes. That was how long it took for Adrien to move on. For all of them to move on from the sense of betrayal.

Iron’s Kid: YOU STILL HAVEN’T WATCHED PRINCESS BRIDE

Chat Galore: It doesn’t seem like that good of a movie

Iron’s Kid: ‘Insulted Gasp’ How. Dare. YOU!

Chat Galore: You still have watched Vampire Diaries!

Iron’s Kid: I have taste!

It took almost three weeks for Chloe to stop growling whenever someone mentioned Damian, Jon, or Lian’s name.

Iron’s Kid: I might need to hide out in Paris for a while

Chat Galore: Did you blow up your dad’s lab again?

Iron’s Kid: Worse!

Chat Galore: You superglue legos to your Pop’s shield again.

Iron’s Kid: That was an accident. They were supposed to come right off. And it's worse.

Chat Galore: Melt another hole in your living room floor?

Iron’s Kid: So. SO much worse.

Chat Galore: You didn’t call Natasha fat did you?

Iron’s Kid: Never that bad

Iron’s Kid: I may or may not have caused MJ’s laptop to crash

Chat Galore: … Shit

Chat Galore: Not even the gods could save you.

A month for Marinette to not look like she wanted to cry when she thought about Damian.

Chat Galore: I’ve decided to learn to cook

Iron’s Kid: Sweet

Chat Galore: Just think One day you will try my cooking.

Iron’s Kid: Sorry, Can’t I’m on a new diet.

Chat Galore: WHAT DIET?

Iron’s Kid: Photosynthesis

Two months for Nino to redownload all the songs he deleted because Lian recommended them.

Iron’s Kid: Archie is one of my best friends

Chat Galore: *doing the Fortnite dance*

Iron’s Kid: I lied I don’t know you

Three months for Adrien to be able to sit in the park and not think about Jon.

Iron’s Kid: I think are MJ and Shure are laughing at me

Chat Galore: Don't be so paranoid

Iron’s Kid: They're pointing at me and laughing.

In the fourth month, things are pretty much the same as they ever were. Though everyone picked up the habit of pretending they didn’t know Marinette started texting Damian again. Eventually, the gang was okay when Marinette announced she was seeing Damian again; even if they, themselves, decided not to deal with the American heroes.

Chat Galore: I really thought 2020 would be a great year!!!

Iron’s Kid: …WWIII was trending in the first week of January.

Time went on. Adrien went on dates, had fun, had a boyfriend or two. He grew up a bit, and kind of understood the position Jon had been in better. And then he wasn’t so angry. Still, a bit hurt though.

Iron’s Kid: I’m sending good vibes your way, they’re coming and there is nothing you can do to stop the

Chat Galore: that is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

By the time summer hit, Adrien decided to take a step back from love and romance and just focus on himself. He finally told his dad his wanted to be a Lawyer, and to his surprise, his dad helped him get a summer internship at a prestigious law firm.

Chat Galore: I’ve decided if I kill Lila, I’ll make it look like an accident.

Chat Galore: Unlike Chloe who has plans to mount her head on the balcony like a warning to the next that may come

Iron’s Kid: How will you make it look like an accident?

Chat Galore: I have a crowbar and a banana.

Iron’s Kid: Quick request: Go look up accident in the dictionary.

He quit modeling because he never really liked it. He found out he liked to paint and was pretty good at it. He tried and failed to learn how to dance.

He did learn to surf.

Adrien hung out a lot with Nico, who had become a good friend.

By the time summer ended, the gang was back on speaking terms with Damian, Lian, and Job. Mostly at Marinette’s behest. She and Damian were going strong. And she really wanted everyone to forgive and forget and be friends.

Chloe just agreed to be civil.

Nino agreed to try being friends again after the three apologized.

Adrien, mostly out of love for his all but sister Marnette, put his best foot forward and start over with them – even Jon. They agreed to be friends. Just friends.

Iron’s Kid: I don’t have a nervous system.

Iron’s Kid: I am a nervous system.

Chat Galore: I’m a Scorpio!

Their final year of school started with a bang. Next year they would all be off at University. And by Bang, Adrien meant Alya knocking Lila the fuck out during the first week.

Lila had told the one lie Alya couldn’t just live in denial with.

“I told Ladybug, I just couldn’t do it anymore,” Lila sighed, “I already have so many medical issues. I couldn’t be Rene Rouge anymore. Ladybug was devasted.”

Then the entire class heard Lila scream, and the thing they knew Alya was on top of Lila beating the hell out of her, screaming, “You lying little WITCH!!”

Chat Galore: ‘Video Sent’

Iron’s Kid: Lila’s the girl on the floor right?

Chat Galore: Alya SNAPPED

Lila transferred out of the school Alya transferred out of class. No one got an apology. Adrien didn’t know why he was still a little surprised.

Outside of school, Adrien was pleased to say the gang’s friendship with Jon, Lian, and Damian was back to full force. Even Chloe greeted the three warmly.

Once Adrien decided to move passed any lingering romantic feelings for Jon, they managed to have a pretty good friendship. Even the Superboy and Chat Noir team-ups were going well.

Chat Galore: what should I be for Halloween this year?

Iron’s Kid: a vampire, Batman, my boyfriend, Superman

Adrien laughs until everything processed in his mind.

Chat Galore: What?

He didn’t get a reply. And Adrien figured it was just autocorrected. But still… his mind couldn’t help but wonder. Just a bit… What if?

A while ago, he had vaguely considered that maybe him and Iron’s Kid had something, could possibly be…

In the middle of Winter break, Adrien got the best gift he could’ve ever asked for.

Iron’s Kid: I’ve been thinking

Chat Galore: Well that can’t end well

Iron’s Kid: Have you and MJ been talking behind my back

Iron’s Kid: Wait don’t answer that. I’m afraid to know

Iron’s Kid: Ned made a point the today

Adrien waited for Iron’s Kid to elaborate more, because what?

Iron’s Kid: I’ve been stupid.

Chat Galore: Ned makes a good point, lol

Iron’s Kid: WHAT I’m TRYING TO say is; I trust you

Adrien smiled as his phone.

Iron’s Kid: We’ve been friends since we were like 11

Iron’s Kid: I want to meet

Iron’s Kid: I want to know what you look like.

Adrien agreed instantly. Because he’s been waiting for like six years. They agreed to meet up that spring. Iron’s Kid’s was going on a trip to Europe for his spring break. It was just going to be him and a few classmates who were in the same club as him. Iron’s Kid said everyone else in their grade was looking forward to the Big Senior Ski Trip at the Brown Bear Ski Lodge that happened every year.

Adrien had family in England. They would meet at six pm at the London’s Eye.

Chat Galore: I always figured you were secretly a werewolf and knew we’d automatically be enemies.

Iron’s Kid: Wait, why would we be enemies?

Iron’s Kid: Oh You’re a Cat!

Chat Galore: And You’re supposed to be a genius.

Iron’s Kid: Meow!

Adrien’s seventeenth birthday came and went without any fireworks; metaphorical ones anyway. His party was huge.

He also met the Justice League and got to watch Chloe cuss out the greatest heroes in the world for the invasion of privacy. Marinette, Adrien, and Nino just watched with smiles on their faces.

He was counting down the days. Until he and Iron’s Kid finally met. It was strange to think it was really going to happen.

Chat Galore: Would you say you’re an independent person?

Iron’s Kid: MJ told me to say to yes.

Chat Galore: Stop being weird.

Iron’s Kid: As you wish.

Adrien chuckled.

“What?” Marinette asked. He showed her the text. “It kind of funny.

“Not the Mj thing,” Adrien shook his head. “Iron’s Kid always says ‘As You wish’ whenever I tell him to do something. It’s weird.”

“…Like in Princess Bride,” Marinette asked.

Adrien shrugged, “Never seen it. It’s one of Iron’s favorite though. Irritates him that I refuse to watch it. But I won’t until he watches the Vampire Diaries.”

Marinette stared at him, “And Iron’s Kid says ‘As you Wish’ every time.”

“Yep.”

“Adrien, WATCH. THAT. MOVIE,” Marinette ordered a firm look on her face.

Adrien pointed at her, “No!” He said firmly. “It goes against my principles.” She shot him a curious look. “I have a duty to annoying Iron’s Kid in any way I can.”

The bluenette nodded understandingly, a small smile on her face, “Makes sense,” She said. “I totally accept your reasoning.”

Adrien smiled happily… Like a fool.

In retrospect, he should’ve known Marinette would never back down that easily.

And that was how he ended up literally hogtied on the couch, the Princess Bride playing on the TV, with a smug Chloe and a gleeful Marinette next to him. Nino watched from the recliner with an easy grin on his face.

“You’ve could’ve helped!” Adrien complained to his friend.

Nino shrugged, “I did help!” He defended. “…Them.”

Adrien sighed and allowed himself to watch the movie; he fully knows two things.

One; there was no way he was getting out of this

Two; Iron’s Kid was never going to let him live this down.

The movie was actually pretty good. But then…

The scene played…

Grandpa: Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Westley around.

Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.

Westley: As you wish.

Grandpa: "As you wish" was all he ever said to her.

Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water - please.

Westley: As you wish.

Grandpa: That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "As you wish," what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was the day she realized she truly loved him back.

Buttercup: Farm boy ... fetch me that pitcher.

Westley: As you wish.

Adrien’s mind went blank. His heart started beating faster than it ever had before. It couldn’t mean…

Iron’s kid didn’t mean…

Right?

But what if he did.

Adrien always sort of held a small torch for his penpal. And he never had any concrete evidence that said he felt the same. And he was waiting until he did.

But what if Iron’s Kid was waiting too. What if he was waiting for Adrien to finally say something; to finally get his message.

Chat Galore: So…

Iron’s Kid: So… Did we agree to stop sending cryptic messages

Chat Galore: We did not

Chat Galore: So I finally watched Princess Bride

Iron’s Kid: YES!!!!!!!!! Finally!!! Fuck yeah! Tell you me loved it.

Chat Galore: It was good, you freaking loser

Iron’s Kid: It’s amazing. It’s a classic you asshat

Chat Galore: Learned something interesting though

Chat Galore: ‘As you wish’, huh? You say a lot

Chat Galore: To me.

Adrien stared as his phone waiting for a reply. It came after ten minutes.

Iron’s Kid: I do.

Chat Galore: Does it mean what it's supposed to.

Another five minutes, and it felt agony.

Iron’s Kid: It does

Adrien screamed a little

Chat Galore: Are you seriously just going to give me two-word answers? Why didn’t just you tell me

Iron’s Kid: In a way I sort of did

Adrien glared at the phone.

Chat Galore: You are the most frustrating person to ever exist!!!!!!

Iron’s Kid: Thank you

Adrien took a deep breath before dialing, “You suck!” He said as soon as it answered.

“I told you to watch the movie,” Iron’s kid defended.

Adrien gripped his hair, “You don’t tell someone you love them by using some obscure 80s movie reference!” He snapped. “How hard would it be to say: Iron’s Kid, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve-years-old.”

It went quiet as both processed what Adrien just said.

“…That’s oddly specific,” Iron’s kid whispered.

Adrien took a deep breath, “Yeah it is.” He said. He was forcing himself to be brave, braver than he ever had before. “But its how I feel. And I can’t help that.”

“I love you too,” Iron’s kid said. “And I’ve loved you since the first time stayed up talking while Binge-watching Harry Potter. It was the first time I realized you know me best in the entire world, and you don’t even know my real name. I could be honest with you in a way I can’t be with anyone. If I could dream up the perfect guy, he wouldn’t even come close to you.”

“Boys meets world,” Adrien let out a small laugh, that sounded a bit more like a sob. “Most of my life I felt alone, even when I was with people. That was until I met you.”

“Pretty little liars,” Iron’s Kid stated.

“In a few weeks, we’re finally gonna meet.”

“I’ll be there,” Iron’s kid said. “I swear.”

Adrien smiled, “Good because I’ve been waiting for six years. And I know this is scary, but I will be there. Don’t let me down.”

“I won’t,” He promised.

Valentine’s day came and went.

Adrien was literally marking off the days on the calendar. The trip was all planned already; Nino, Chloe, and Marinette were tagging along.

Iron’s Kid and Adrien talked every day.

“Okay if you sigh dreamily one more...” Nico teased.

Adrien flushed a bright pink, “I’m finally gonna meet Iron’s Kid.”

“Ahh,” Nico nodded understandingly. “The mysterious penpal. It’s been what seven years?”\

“Six,” Adrien corrected. “Feels like twice that. We like each other,” He admitted. “Like really, really each other. We told each other a few weeks ago.’

Nico frowned, “Just before meeting each other. Sounds like a lot of pressure. You ready for that?”

The blond took a deep breath, “Yeah, I think so. It’s time. It’s going to be perfect. We’re gonna meet at London’s eyes, under the stars; it’ll be like a movie.”

“Your Ferris wheel moment,” Nico concluded. “Marinette told me,” The older boy explained. “Just… be careful okay.”

“I will be.”

Nico gave him a hard look, “I’m serious. I know you. You’re all in. You always are,” he said. “Just don’t build this some more than you should. Don’t go in thinking it’ll be this picture-perfect movie moment. I don’t want to see you let down.” He told Adrien. “You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Adrien gave him a small smile, “I don’t care if the Ferris wheel is broken when I get there. Or its raining cats and dogs. It’ll be perfect.”

“Just be careful,” Nico repeated.

The big day came. Adrien arrived in England on late Thursday with a stomach full of butterflies. Iron’s Kid had texted that he had been in London with his friends for a few days and that he couldn’t wait to see Adrien.

Iron’s Kid: I have brown hair. I’ll be wearing black slacks, and a rose lapel flower pin.

It wasn’t the first time the blond had been to England; he had more than a few photoshoots there. Yet somehow it all felt different. It all felt new. And it was like he was looking at everything again for the first time.

He was to meet Iron’s Kid on Saturday at 6 pm. And he could barely contain himself

He spent most of the Friday touring with his friends. They went to Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, The British Museum; standard tourist spots. And eating really, really British cuisine.

Adrien woke up bright and early on Saturday and pretty much had a panic attack. It took Nino twenty minutes to calm him down. However, even when he was breathing normally again, Adrien was adamant about running back to Paris. That was when Nino called in Marinette and Chloe as reinforcements.

“If I have to drag to London’s Eye by your tacky boyband haircut,” Chloe growled. “I will.”

Marinette tried the nice route, “Everything’s going to be fine,” She assured.

Chloe huffed, “I didn’t come all the way to London so you can be a little bitch.”

“You are so hostile,” Nino complained.

“What if this a mistake?” Adrien asked. “What if he’s disappointed? What if he takes one look at me, and is ‘You? I waited six years, and I get you. Waste of time.”

“That won’t happen!” Marinette said. “He’s gonna love you. He already does!”

Nino nodded, “Yeah. You two are practically soulmates.”

“No!” Chloe held up a finger. “Listen to me clearly, Adrien Agreste; Just because he likes the same nerdy crap you do doesn't mean he's your soul mate. And if it doesn’t work out, not that it won’t, you will be just fine.”

Marinette sighed, “No matter what happens everything is going to be okay.” She said firmly. “But you should really change that blazer. It’s not doing you any favors. Then we’re going to get breakfast and go to the museum. You have 11 hours until you have to be at the London’s eye. You’re going to relax until.”

“While we stop you from fleeing the country,” Nino yawned tiredly.

That had to stop Adrien at least three times. One time Ladybug actually had appeared to pick Adrien up when he was halfway to the airport. This was all before one pm.

The blond boy managed to calm down after that. Then he went back to bursting with excitement. He was still afraid but he couldn’t let that stop him. Adrien has been waiting six years to meet Iron’s Kid, to meet Iron’s Kid.

He arrived at the London’s eye, half an hour before six. He wore a silver suit Marinette had designed for him.

Adrien took calming breaths. Marinette rolled her eyes as she fixed his tie, “See? This isn't so bad. You look amazing.”

“Are you kidding?” He gave her a nervous smile, “He traveled over three thousand miles to me. Any second now he's gonna get here, look at me and go, "Ha. Yeah, right, you're so not worth this.”

Marinette gave him a hard look, “Yes, you are.” She patted his chest. “Take a lot of pictures. Text if you need anything.”

And then she was gone.

Adrien texted Iron’s Kid.

Chat Galore: I’m here. Blond; silver suit.

The blond looked up at the London’s eyes, the biggest Ferris wheel had ever seen, and knew this was it. This was the moment Adrien had been waiting for. He smiled.

When six pm came, Adrien was practically bursting at the seams. He was literally shaking in excitement. He watched the people go by and held his breath every time he saw a guy his age with brown hair but would frown when he didn’t see the rose lapel pin.

Chat Galore: You here yet?

Six turned into seven. The sun had gone down. The stars were shining. Everything looked so perfect. Adrien was sure Iron’s Kid was on his way.

Chat Galore: If your running late it’s cool. I’ll wait.

Seven turned into eight. Adrien refused to give up hope. He would wait no matter how long it took.

Iron’s Kid was worth it.

Chat Galore: Still here.

Chat Galore: Did something come up?

Eight turned into nine. The London’s eye closed. People started leaving. Adrien texted his friends that he was fine.

He wasn’t feeling as hopeful as he did a few hours ago. But he’d wait.

Chat Galore: Still waiting.

Chat Galore: Well past feeling just a little pathetic.

Nine turned into ten. Hope kind of then.

Chat Galore: Still here. Still waiting.

Chat Galore: What happened?

Chat Galore: Just say something!

Ten turned to eleven. Adrien didn’t even know why he was still waiting.

Chat Galore: Anything! Please!

A quarter to midnight, Adrien finally got an answer.

Iron’s Kid: I’m sorry.

That was it. That was all he said.

Adrien got back to his hotel room a little after midnight; feeling numb. His throat burned a little. His eyes were a little red.

Nino greeted him with a big grin, “Back late, huh? Must’ve had a good time…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Adrien’s face. “Oh god, what happened?”

Adrien shoved his hands in his pockets, “He, uh, he never showed up,” he said and swallowed the lump that had been building in his throat. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s okay.” Adrien nodded. “I need to, I have to, uh. I got to the bathroom.” And then he fled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him; willing the world to just stop existing for just a few moments.

“Dude, it’s okay,” Nino said through the door. “I know this has to be rough. But you’ll get through it. I’m here. I called Chloe and Marinette, they’re on their way.”

Adrien didn’t say anything. He just wiped the tears off his face, and then gripped the bathroom sink.

“They’ll probably be banging on the door any sec,” Nino added. “Unless, Marinette’s trying to stop Chloe from committing murder,” He joked. “Which would be way rude by the way. I’d have liked an invitation. I thought our friendship was stronger.”

Adrien heard loud knocking and the sweet voice of Marinette asking where he was, and the furious voice of Chloe already talking about how she knew how t to hide a body.

The blond boy figured it was only a matter of time before Nino or Marinette convinced him to open up the door. Or Chloe broke it down.

However, surprisingly after twenty or so minutes of his friends pleading with him to open the door, the door would gently swing open to reveal Marinette kneeling with a lockpick set in her hands.

That got a smile out of Adrien. After all these years, the bluenette was still full of surprises.

Adrien spent the rest of the night letting his friends comfort him. They left England the next morning.

When they got back to Paris, and Adrien was back in the comfort of his room, he finally texted Iron’s Kid back.

Chat Galore: Why didn’t you show?

He’d wait for a reply all day but wouldn’t get one.

The next day, Adrien texted again.

Chat Galore: I’m not mad.

Chat Galore: I promise

Chat Galore: just a little hurt.

Again, he’d wait for a reply all day, but it didn’t come.

Though his friends tried to get him to talk about it, Adrien wouldn’t budge. He just couldn’t…

It just stung too much. It burned too much.

Chat Galore: I get it if you were afraid or something

Chat Galore: It’s okay.

And was the truth; it was fine.

He would be fine. Everything was good. It was okay.

Adrien would be fine.

That was what he told everyone.

Chat Galore: We can pretend this never happened if you want

Chat Galore: Just be friends.

Adrien still didn’t get a reply. That didn’t stop him from waiting for one. He figured Iron’s Kid was just embarrassed that he didn’t show or something. Everything would go back to normal after a few days.

Chat Galore: I’m going to see Onward. Heard its pretty good.

But a few days became a week. A week became two. Two weeks a became a month of radio silence. And a seed of worrying starting to grow in Adrien’s stomach. Nevertheless, Adrien wrote Iron’s Kid once a day. He refused to give up hope.

Adrien kept a smile on his face to stop his friends from being concerned. There was no reason to. He would be fine. It was okay. It wasn’t the first time he got his heart broken; probably would even be his last.

His days were split between studying and fight Hawkmoth. The villain was getting bolder and more desperate. Every Akuma seemed worse and stronger than the last. The kids got used to the feeling of always being dead on their feet.

Marinette finally decided they needed a break and ordered a family game night. She got the newly permanent heroes Luka, Kagami, and Aurore to cover for them.

Adrien tried to give all his attention to the monopoly game they played; laughed when he was supposed to. Tried to ignore that in the back of his mind, his attention was still a bit focused on his phone, and that fact that it's been a month since he heard from Iron’s Kid.

A month since London.

He barely even blinked twice when Marinette successfully bankrupted him, even though he was the first one out. Instead, as soon as the game got more intense, Adrien stuck away. He found himself on the roof the bakery, staring at the stars, clutching his phone in his hand.

Chat Galore: I’m running out of things to say

Chat Galore: Hard to have a one-sided conversation.

Chat Galore: I’m not even sure you’re reading this.

Chat Galore: Maybe I’ll just you send you movie quotes until you respond

Adrien looked back up at the stars and wished. He wished never agreed to meet Iron’s Kid. He wished he never told him he loved him. He wished he could take it all back because at least he’d still have his friend.

He wrapped his arms around himself. Adrien blinked back the tears that were building.

He heard the door open behind him and figured it was Chloe or Nino coming to check on him; whoever got kicked out of the game firsts. Because Marinette was going to win.

“Beautiful night,” A voice said. “Nothing quite like Paris in the springtime.”

Adrien cast a quick smile at Nico, “I always preferred it during Winter. A Snowy wonderland.” He went back to looking up at the stars.

“You know someday someone will walk into your life,” Nico said as he walked to stand next to the blond, “And make you realize why he never worked out with anyone else.”

“Go ahead,” Adrien laughed bitterly. “Tell me I told you so.”

Nico shrugged, ‘Iron’s Kid’s a kid. And an idiot.”

“Yeah,” The blond sobbed. “That doesn’t mean much coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nico crossed his arms.

“Nothing,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired… I'm so tired of falling for guys that don't fall back. It hurts.”

“Adrien, I…”

Adrien cut him off, “It’s the same thing every time. I’m all in, and they’re not. I’m the one left out in the cold. I’m waiting, looking like a total idiot. Because I was stupid enough to give all my heart when no one else ever does. So you wanna help me, Nico? Tell me what I do wrong.

“Nothing!” Nico gripped Adrien’s shoulders. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re smart and talented. You’re caring and you’re funny. You look at this world like everything is possible, and you make me believe it too. You’re not the problem.”

“Tell me why I'm so easy to give up then,” The blond asked. “And maybe I can fix it”

“You’re asking the wrong guy, Sunshine,” Nico whispered, his forehead against Adrien’s, their lips inches apart. “There is no time or place or world, where it would ever be easy to give you up.”

Nico moved closer; so did Adrien…

“Hey!!” A voice called from downstairs. “New games starting. It’s Poker! Hurry your butts up!”

The two guys snapped back to reality and away from each other.

“You should go,” Nico said dryly, looking away from the other boy. “I’m going to stay here for a bit.”

“Nico…” Adrien said, looking a bit confused.

The older boy shook his head.

The blond nodded and started for the door.

“For what it’s worth,” Nico called. “He made the wrong choice.”.

A small smile spread over Adrien’s face, “I know.”

“I wonder what would’ve happened if we met when we were older,” Nico asked.

Adrien shrugged, “Someday we will be.”

“Long game?”

“Long game.”

He went back to the living room where everyone was waiting, with the cards and poker chips already dealt.

Adrien settled in the seat next to Marinette.

The bluenette shot him a concerned look, “You okay?”

“I’ll be…” Adrien sighed. “Eventually.”

The blond boy decided to chalk up whatever happened on the roof with Nico as… Just the two of them being caught in the moment. Emotions were high.

…That didn’t stop Adrien from smiling every time someone mentioned Nico’s name.

Chat Galore: Everything is possible.

Chat Galore: Even the impossible.

He still wrote Iron’s Kid once every day. Adrien didn’t say much. He just sent a movie quote he liked, just to let Iron’s Kid know he was still there. He was still waiting… if Iron’s Kid ever changed his mind.

Chat Galore: When you can’t look on the Brightside, I will sit with you in the dark.

A month became two.

Chat Galore: In the garden of memory, in the palace of Dreams, that is where you and I shall meet.

Two became three. They figured out who Hawkmoth was. The battle had been epic. Adrien’s father had hesitated when he realized Adrien was Chat Noir, long enough for Ladybug to make the killing shot.

Figuratively anyway.

Ladybug blasted Hawkmoth into a wall. The heroes banded together to remove his miraculous. Then they erased his memory. And then Natalie’s. Of any and all knowledge of magic permanently; defeating Hawkmoth once and for all.

As far as Gabriel knew he was just a recluse workaholic with what barely passed as a decent relationship with his only child.

Adrien was devastated to learn who his father really was. Even so when he discovered the reason behind Hawkmoth’s villainous pursuit; his comatose mother and learned from Fu there was no way to save her; not even with a wish.

The blond boy had long ago mourned his mother and moved on but that it didn’t hurt.

Emilie Agreste was officially declared dead and buried on a sunny Tuesday afternoon in the middle of Spring.

Chat Galore: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it

Three months became four.

At this point, he knows Iron’s Kid’s never going to write him back. And that was okay. Adrien was okay.

People move on. And while Adrien would always wonder why Iron’s Kid never showed, he could live without knowing.

If anyone asked why he was still writing, Adrien would say he didn’t know.

But that was a lie.

He did know.

Iron’s Kid had been a really big part of his life, had been one greatest friend he ever had; had been his first love in a way.

So yes, Adrien knew exactly why he was still writing.

He could live without Iron’s Kid in his life but he couldn’t live without one thing.

Chat Galore: Here's looking at you kid

Adrien officially graduated from school. He was accepted into Columbia. He’d be living in New York. And so, would Chloe, Marinette, and Nino. They decided they wanted to stick together and keep being heroes.

Chloe would be going to Columbia with him to study business and public relations. Marinette would study business and fashion. Nino decided to dedicate his life to being the next great movie director. Adrien would study Law.

They decided to get two apartments across from each other like in F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Because that was pretty much all they knew about New York.

Damian would be attending Columbia; he was gearing up to take over Wayne Industries one day. Him and Marinette were still going strong. Lian would be going to Princeton, as Oliver Queen would be damned if his granddaughter went anywhere else. Jon would take a year off to explore the world before attending Metropolis University; he still wanted to Major in Journalism.

Damian kept hinting hard that the Titans, not the Teen Titans, were looking for new members. And as he was the current leader of the Titans, it was less of a hint and more like being actively headhunted by the most aggressive Robin to ever walk the earth.

It was official, they weren’t kids anymore.

Chat Galore: You know that place between sleep and awake where you’re always dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.

They had a few months before they had to move completely to New York, and decided to do something special. Or rather Tom and Sabine did.

And mostly because they just wanted to see where their kids would be living from now on.

Sabine and Tom claimed to find this great deal on a ski resort near New York. Everyone was invited; Nico, Kagami, Luka, Aurore, Lian, Jon, and Damian.

They did the whole tourist thing, led by Nico who was excited his cousin would be living in the same city as him and explored the great New York City, and Tom and Sabine got to see the penthouses, Gabriel and Audrey had bought each their perspective children and were assured their kids would be living in a safe location.

Chat Galore: So maybe it won’t look like you thought it would in high school, but it’s important to remember that love is possible. Anything is possible. This is New York

The Brown Bear Ski Lodge was packed, apparently, some class from a school called Midtown had booked a trip at the same time they did. So the entire lodge was filled with graduating seniors, between the ages of seventeen and eighteen years old.

To say it was wild was an understatement. Sabine vocally wondered why the school though three chaperones to watch over an entire class of students were enough. Tom just comforted Mr. Harrison when he started to cry.

Adrien got to meet loads of kids his age, a few that would even be starting at Columbia the same time as the French kids. It turned out most of the kids from Midtown were insanely smart.

The blond boy ended up spraining his ankle while skiing and ended up spending most of the time on sitting on the lodge’s bay window watching nature and relaxing. He ended up sitting there long after nearly everyone else had gone off to bed.

“Having fun,” A boy his age asked, one of the few people left in the room. He was handsome with light brown hair and kind brown eyes.

“As close as I can get,” Adrien answered.

The brown-haired boy smiled, “Well if you get bored out of your mind, I got some movies on my tablet if you want to watch. I know some pretty good ones.”

“I’m good,” Adrien said. “You can join me if you want. I wouldn’t say no to company.”

The boy did, “Name’s Peter.”

“Adrien.”

“By your accent, I’m guessing your not with the Midtown group,” Peter asked. “Also, because I’m from the Midtown group.”

Adrien snorted, “France. I’ll be living full time in New York come autumn.”

“Is that right?” Peter looked excited by the news. “You’re gonna love it.”

“Yeah, and why’s that?”

And then Peter went on to tell Adrien all about the places and people he loved in New York. They talked for hours until morning rays hit them through the window.

Over the next week of the vacation, the two ended up finding themselves repeating that; talking and letting time disappear.

Chat Galore: I wish I knew how to quit you.

Adrien introduced Peter to Marinette, Chloe, Nino, and the others. Peter introduced him to his friends Michelle, Ned, and Gwen. Like Adrien and his friends, Peter and his friends were pretty much attached at the hip.

“He pissed me off, so I put a porn virus into his computer,” Michelle answered the Marinette’s question as to why a Eugene kept running from her.

Marinette and Adrien had decided to enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate by the fire, only to be joined by Peter’s friends: Michelle and Ned. Another would’ve joined them but he scampered away the second he saw the girl.

“He deserved it,” Michelle added.

“He totally did,” The large Asian boy nodded in agreement. “But MJ you might’ve taken it too far when you made it happen during class.”

Marinette giggled. “Harsh!”

“No mercy, Ned!”

Adrien laughed until his brain processed what was said, “Wait, I thought your name was Michelle?”

Michelle and Ned froze like deer caught in the headlights.

“MJ’s my nickname,” Mj explained cooly. “And we should really be going…”

“Geniuses,” Adrien suddenly recalled; his mind finishing a calculation, he didn’t even realize he was trying to figure out. “Who goes to a school for super-smart kids. MJ, scary queen who could rule the universe,” He pointed at her. “Ned; loveable teddy bear nerd with a fixation on Legos. A bully named Eugene who I’m guessing goes by Flash.” He swallowed hard, and fixed hard green eyes on the two kids in front of him. “Did you take a class trip to Europe in Spring? Keep in mind I would really like you to say no.”

Ned and MJ paled.

“Ned and MJ,” Adrien repeated. “Iron’s Kid’s best friends…” He whispered. “Peter’s best friends. Peter is Iron’s Kid, isn’t he?”

MJ narrowed her eyes at him, “Chat Galore: Adrien Agreste.”

Adrien’s entire body froze. He tried to remain calm, “This can’t be happening.”

Marinette glared at them, “Your friends with Iron’s Kid!” She growled. “Peter is Iron’s Kid. What was he thinking? How could he just stand Adrien up? I’ll kill him!”

“I never told you my last name!” Adrien realized. “How did you?”

“We hacked into Peter’s phone a few months ago,” MJ shrugged. “And traced your Ip address.”

Adrien glared, “And Peter knew? When I got here, he knew who I was didn’t?” He accused. “He lied right to my face!”

“It’s complicated!” Ned looked at Adrien with wide eyes. “Yeah, he knew who you were when he saw you. He just wanted a do-over. It’s weird I know. I told him not to do it!”

MJ looked at Marinette, “You should kill him. It was a bitch move,” She said. “But if it means anything, he regrets not showing up at London’s eye.” This part she told Adrien.

“Like super regrets it!” Ned added. “You can’t beat him up half as much as he does himself.”

“I can try,” Marinette crossed her arms.

“He reads your texts every day,” Mj said.

Adrien stood up angrily, “Then why doesn’t he text back?” He demanded to know. “Why didn’t he show up at the London’s eye. I waited! I’ve been waiting!”

MJ shrugged, “I can’t answer that,” She said. “Only he can. I can only tell you he was stupid. And he overreacted. You deserve to hear everything from him.”

Ned nodded eagerly, “He really likes you. He nearly dropped dead when he saw you were here. Just let him explain!”

“No!” Adrien snapped. “I don’t want to see him. Ever.” He clenched his fists. “I… I just can’t.”

And he stumped away.

He went to his room and packed his bags. He was getting out of there. He was leaving he had nothing to say to Iron’s Kid. Or Peter. Or whoever he was.

There was a knock on his door.

“Go. Away!” Adrien snapped.

“I can’t do that!” It was Jon that surprisingly said that.

“Come in!” The door opened. “What do you want?” Adrien asked. “Sorry, I’m just a bit busy right now.”

Jon wore a red plaid shirt over a white t-shirt and blue jeans, “Don’t leave,” He told Adrien.

“I have to,” The blond said he snuffed his suitcase.

“You can’t!”

Adrien all but snarled, “Look you don’t understand. You don’t get it.” He said. “I have to leave.”

“Yeah I do,” Jon said and shut the door behind him. “Super hearing, remember? I know everything that’s going on. You can’t go, not like this.”

“Yes, I-” The blond started but was cut off.

Jon grabbed his shoulders and sat him on the bed, “You deserve an answer. You’ve been waiting for an answer,” He stated. “You deserve to know why he didn’t show up.”

“And why he decided to mess with me for the last week?!!”

“That I understand!” Jon said. “He wanted to start over. Second chances are hard to come by. And once upon a time, there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for one.”

“And you think he deserves one?”

“Just talk to him,” Superboy said. “Or scream at him. Whatever.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair, “I haven’t been waiting for an answer,” He admitted. “I would’ve liked one, but I wasn’t waiting for it.”

“You love him,” Jon said. “You did. Or do. I know. Because I remember how you used to look when he texted you. I know… Because you used to look like that around me.”

“Jon…”

“I saw you two together,” Jon said. “You’re good together. Leaving now would be a big mistake. I’m saying that as your friend. Meet him, talk to him. Even nothing happens. Or everything does.”

Adrien hid his face in his hands and groaned, “Even if it’s just to reject him?” He crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t it be better to just leave?”

“Not for you,” Jon shook his head. “Look, if you reject him now, he's gonna make it his life's mission to go out there and meet the most perfect, beautiful guy or girl in the world just to try and get over you. And he'll end up marrying this other person and spending the rest of his life with them. And you know, he'll tell himself that they're perfect and... He really must be happy, but they won't be you, you know? And that’s the worst thing that will happen.”

It went quiet.

“Follow your heart, Adrien,” Jon added. “It’s what you do best. And it’s the best thing about you.”

Then the boy of steel left.

And Adrien was alone with his thoughts.

Chat Galore: Relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it?

Adrien left. It wasn’t his finest moment and not his bravest. But he left. Because he wasn’t ready to see Peter. Not yet. He texted his friends and tom and Sabine that he was leaving and that he’d okay… eventually.

He’d go back to New York City, leave on the next flight out. He’d back to the big Apple two months later, move into his apartment with Nino, Marinette, and Chloe and start his life there.

Two weeks after that Chloe would get the opportunity of a lifetime, a PR internship for college credit at Stark Industries. The blonde girl invited them all to go on her tour with her; apparently, she was told she could bring friends.

Adrien would frown when he heard but not say anything. Peter wasn’t the only one with friends that could track an IP address.

It was time. No more running.

Stark Tower was everything, the kids all dreamed it would be. A scientist, futuristic wonderland. They oohhh’ed and awed. And Adrien tried to enjoy himself and keep his mouth closed.

Even when the most advanced elevator in the entire world “mysteriously” malfunctioned and took them to the very top floor; otherwise known as the place the Avengers lived.

“Sorry about that,” Tony Stark, himself, gave them his most charming grin when the doors opened and he was standing right there. “We’ll get that fixed right away.” He promised. “Come on kiddies, let me show you where the big kids play.”

He led them to the living room where Captain America was watching TV.

“Hey, babe!” Tony grinned. “This is Chloe, Pepper’s newest intern. Marinette, Nino, and… Adrien.”

“Tony…” Steve Roger gave his husband a chastising look.

“Cap…”

Adrien huffed and glared at the occupants in the room, “Cut the crap,” He ordered them, drawing surprised looks from his friends. “Where’s Peter?” He asked. “Iron’s Kid,” Tony smirked at the name. “Is Peter. Peter Stark-Rogers.”

His friends turned fierce glares at the Avengers.

“It’s a setup!” Chloe accused.

“Heroes are supposed, to be honest,” Marinette chided.

Nino crossed his arms, “What a letdown.”

“Where’s Peter?” Adrien asked again.

“He’s coming,” Tony said. “You three and my hotter than the sun husband come with me; I’ll show you the training room that you can use full time If Ladybug, Queen Bee, Carapace, and Chat Noir decides they wanted to ditch the Justice League and hang with the Major Leagues.”

His friends paled at the fact that Tony Stark and probably all the Avengers knew their superhero identities and followed Iron Man out of the room. Steve just sighed at his husband’s antics and follow him out.

Adrien crossed his arms and waited.

The elevator would ping, and five minutes later Peter would walk into the living room. They just at each other for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” Peter finally said.

Adrien shook his head, “I don’t want your apologies. I came here… I waited here… for the same reason I’ve waited the last seven months,” He said. “I only waited to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Peter gave him half a smile. “We’ve only just met.”

Adrien pointed him, “Don’t!” He said. “Don’t quote movies at me.” He snapped. “Why?” Adrien asked. “Why weren’t you there? How could you not be there?!”

“I was!” Peter said. “I was there. I saw you. I was terrified. And I left.”

“I was afraid too!” Adrien said. “The difference is I still showed up. I waited six years to meet you. And I waited at the London’s eye for almost seven hours, and you just left me. You blew me off.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter yelled. “I’m so sorry. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Adrien clenched his fists. “Why didn’t you write me back? Why did you pretend at the lodge?”

“I don’t know,” Peter admitted. “I really don’t. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just saw you and my mind just went blank. I thought it was like fate giving me a second chance. I didn’t do it right. I screw up. Again!”

“A second chance?” Adrien glared at him. “You think that was your second chance? No. Your second chance was I texted asking what happened. You got another chance every time I texted you. I texted you every day for six months. Those were your chances!” He yelled. “If it was over for you, you could have told me. Said something. But you left me in the dark. If you didn’t feel the same about me, you could’ve told me. I just wanted my friend back!”

“Adrien, I…”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Adrien asked, tears burning in his eyes. “Why? It wasn’t over for me. Six months, that’s one hundred and eighty-two days. I wrote you one hundred and eighty-two times. I waited for you! It’s too late now. It’s over!”

Peter looked ready to cry, “I wrote you over three hundred emails. I have them saved on my computer I never sent them. I didn’t think they’d be enough. They’re still not enough. It’s wasn’t over for me. It’s still not over.”

“Why?” Adrien asked again. “Why didn’t Iron’s Kid show up? Why was he so afraid?”

Peter just looked at the blond boy for a moment, before taking a deep breath, “Iron’s Kid thinks about that moment every day. He used to think he didn’t show up because he was afraid of what would happen; that it wouldn’t work out. That he’d lose one his best friends.” He said. “That them being together would ruin everything. Because they were just kids; they were stupid and young. But that was just a lie he told himself because he was afraid. The truth is, He was at the London’s eye that night, he saw Chat Galore: the most perfect person he’d ever seen and got scared for a completely different reason.”

“Why?”

Peter stepped towards Adrien, “Once he figured that out, and he figured that out really quick but only when it was just too late, Iron’s Kid didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say to make it right. So he said nothing. And it killed him every day. Iron’s Kid would give anything to go back to that night at the London’s eye, to back to that moment when they were supposed to meet. Before everything went wrong. Iron’s kid would tell Chat Galore everything he always wanted. But he couldn’t. Because doesn’t work like that. Instead, he was so sorry for what he had done.”

Adrien just listened.

“Because Iron’s Kid realized,” Peter said, “That he wasn’t afraid that night because he thought it wouldn’t work out; that Chat Galore wasn’t the one. He was absolutely terrified because he knew he was. And if Adrien could just give him one more chance. Just one more chance, he’d spend the rest of his making it up to him.”

“Peter…”

“I love you,” Peter said. “I’m totally and completely in love with you. And I don’t care if you think its too late. I’m telling you anyway. Because if I don’t, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Because I know in my heart, you’re the one for me.”

Adrien just sighed and looked away, wondering what he should do.

“I don’t what’s going to happen in the future,” Peter said. “I don’t if in the time I was an idiot if Jon or Nico or Luka,” He chuckled, and so did Adrien. “Won your heart. I just know… I may not be your first love, but I intend to be your last. However long it takes.”

A smile spread across Adrien’s face, “You watched it,” He said. “You finally watched the Vampire diaries. It only took you, what? Seven years.”

“Six and a half,” Peter corrected. “Sorry I made you wait.”

“I know,” Adrien nodded. “I need some time, okay. I need to get my head on straight. Before I decide anything.”

“I understand,” Peter agreed eagerly. “I get it. I’ll wait.”

Adrien would take two weeks to decide what he was feeling and what he wanted to do. And when the two weeks were over, he knew exactly what he wanted, and who he wanted. So he made a call.

And then ended up a Coney island, next to The Wonder Wheel, one of the most famous Ferris wheels in the world. He waited in line and happily got on the ride. The seats next to him were quickly filled by Marinette, Chloe, and Nino.

“Finally getting your Ferris wheel moment?” Nino asked as the ride started.

Adrien smiled, “Yeah. Except I wanted the people I love the most with me.”

“Awww,” Marinette hugged him. “We love you too.”

“That’s a dollar for the overly sentimental jar,” Chloe glared at him. “And no more rom-com for you.”

Adrien snorted.

The kids enjoyed the ride, and when it was over, and they got off, Marinette asked, “So you didn’t choose anyone?”

“Well…” He motioned to the guy waiting at the exit of the ride. “I wouldn’t say that. I’m done. No more waiting, no more long game, no more… anything. Its time I get a little more proactive.”

Chloe smirked, “About time. Get it, Agreste!”

“Just remember you have a roommate,” Nino smirked.

The three walked off to enjoy the rest of the amusement park.

Adrien smiled at them, and then smirked at the guy waiting for him, “Wait long?”

“I’d wait forever.”

2K notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

Text

You’re Not Alone

heartwitchhouse request: Hey uh.. can I get Logan introducing Thomas to neurodivergent communities online?

Sure you can, babe! Thanks for the prompt!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: none

Warnings: also...none? there’s some discussion on having anxiety, depresion, and ADHD with some self-doubt but it’s not that bad

Word Count: 2899

It’s just a little off.

It’s not like it’s some big obvious thing that his parents immediately took notice of. It’s not something his doctor noted on his sheet and made sure to talk about. It’s not even something one of his teachers gently pulled him aside for.

It’s just…not quite right.

He knows that his classmates don’t struggle to stare at the board or their work for like…three minutes at a time, but he also knows one of his classmates who can’t do it for three seconds. He knows the others don’t lapse into gray hazes where doing literally anything feels like an insurmountable force, but he also knows the kids that can’t even come to school on certain days.

He knows people who are better, but he also knows people who are worse.

He has good days. Great days. Great weeks, even. It’s just…sometimes he’ll have a bad day and he can’t help but look at everybody else who’s having a worse day.

And here’s the thing. He knows how to work through it.

He can put his head down and just get things done. It doesn’t matter that he can’t focus for more than three minutes, he’ll do the work he can in those three minutes and then move onto something else. Maybe he’ll get to cycle back and pick it up again later. He can shake his head to clear it and squint at his work again, just to finish this one page through the haze. He can make it.

But it’s just that; making it.

He can’t deny the way the polite smile from his teachers settles heavily in the pit of his stomach saying that yeah, he did fine, but he could’ve done better. The way the list of things he needs to do gets checked off by just the bare minimum, something he’s going to have to redo in just a few days, makes his hands itch. The insecurities over all the things he could have done, could have done better, all the things he’s missed, pile up in his brain until he has to shove them all away just to breathe on bad days. But doesn’t everyone struggle with insecurity now and then? This is normal, right?

Or is it just a little off?

“Oh, I’m sure you’d feel better if you just exercised more! Get yourself a workout schedule, there’s no better free therapy!”

Running makes his chest feel like it’s going to explode. His arms and legs ache after the first round of whatever ‘beginner’ program he decides to try once. The gray haze only flourishes, steady as ever on bad days.

“Just focus on your studies, I’m sure once you’ve got more structure in your life it’ll help you feel better, sweetie.”

Work pounds into his head and he gets it done. All the things he could’ve done better stay there too, bold and bright on the page next to red slashes of ink. He puts his head down and goes, goes, goes. That doesn’t help the bad days, it just pushes them off. Then they get worse.

“Maybe you just need to go outside more often, sunlight can do wonders for you!”

Listen. He and the sun have an agreement. The sun doesn’t like him. He doesn’t like the sun. It’s better if they just…stay out of each other’s way. He could do without the achy headaches the bright light gives him.

“Are you sure you’re drinking enough water? Are you eating the right stuff?”

His budget quickly becomes strained with the amount of ‘healthy food’ he’s supposed to buy. The piles of ‘proper ingredients’ sit in his cabinet, unused, taunting him with how difficult it’ll be to figure out how to eat them. The guilt over not using them worries at his throat as he’s forced to toss them out as they go bad. He gets raised eyebrows from everyone with how often he has to go to the bathroom. The ensuing doctor’s visit is one he’d rather not repeat any time soon, even though at that point it’s just…you know those days where you’re like ‘this might as well happen? Adult life is already so goddamn weird?’

“At least you can get out of bed most days. You seemed fine yesterday!”

…yesterday was yesterday. And just because he got out of bed doesn’t mean anything. It wasn’t really a conscious choice, he just…had to do it.

“You’re not nearly as bad as—“

You know, it doesn’t really matter who they put at the end of that. The point is he’s not as bad as other people. So he doesn’t get the support that they get.

He doesn’t get the polite nods from professors when he needs an extension. He doesn’t get the medication prescribed to him for something that he shouldn’t need because he’s ‘healthy.’ When he finally tries therapy, the therapist compliments him on how easily he’s able to hold a conversation, maintain eye contact, and asks him if he’s tried keeping a diary.

During the nights when he can’t sleep, when the blankets feel way too rough, like sleeping on sandpaper that rubs persistently at his skin, he tosses and turns and thinks…would it be better if…

Would it be better if it were worse?

If it were more obvious, if he actually had depression, anxiety, ADHD, something with a name that people could recognize, or even just the freedom to say he had something…would that be better?

He doesn’t cry every day. He can still feel things most of the time. He eats. He drinks water. He sleeps. He goes outside. He doesn’t get high or drink or do anything to try and numb the pain or escape it. He doesn’t have suicidal thoughts.

But it still feels like he’s not quite right.

If he were worse…people would be more sympathetic. He wouldn’t be accused of milking anything for attention. He wouldn’t get scolded for making light of other people’s problems. He wouldn’t be faking it. Is he faking it? Is he blowing it up out of proportion?

Is it really as bad as he thinks it is?

He finds the perfect metaphor almost by accident. He’s over at a friend’s house one day and they’re in the kitchen, getting hot chocolate to drink before starting their movie night. He opens the cupboard and pulls out a mug with flowers all over it. As he turns to give it to his friend, he notices a chip in the rim.

“Oh, oh gosh, I, um, I’m sorry—“

“What? What’s wrong?” His friend takes the mug from his stuttering hands and squints at it. Her brow smooths out and she laughs. “Oh, are you worried about the chip?”

“…yeah. I don’t—I don’t think I did it?”

“You didn’t,” she says easily, filling it with hot milk, “it’s always been like that.”

“Oh, okay.” The black fuzzy things buzzing about his head settle at that as he leans back against the counter, ready to accept the mug of hot chocolate. It’s warm, pleasantly so, sending a rush of contentment up his arms as he cups his palms around it. “Where’s yours?”

“I’m almost done!”

He looks back down at the hot chocolate, shimmering brown with the kitchen light’s reflection. Tilting his head, he examines the chip in the ceramic. It’s not that big, barely noticeable, but there’s a sharp edge on the inside. He’ll have to be careful he doesn’t drink from that side. Wouldn’t do to burn his tongue and accidentally cut his lip.

“Alright! I’m ready, let’s—ah!”

Her yelp startles him out of whatever hot-chocolate-drinking-planning haze he’d been in, only to see his friend staring at the floor with her hands over her mouth.

“Hey, whoa, are you okay? What happened?”

“I, um—“ oh, no, she sounds so upset, let’s help her!— “I dropped my mug.”

Sure enough, as he hustles around the counter, he sees the broken mug, lying on the floor, hot chocolate spilling mockingly from the remains. He sets his mug—carefully!—on the counter, looking around for the paper towels.

“Did you get hurt?”

“What?” Her gaze doesn’t leave the floor. “No, no, it’s just…that was my favorite mug.”

A horrible sadness settles in his chest as he looks at her and he gently knocks their elbows. “It looks like it’s still got some pretty big pieces, we could…maybe we could fix it?”

“You came over here to watch movies, not to fix my mug.”

“We can do both, can’t we?”

So there they end up, with the lights on, newspaper spread on the floor, hot glue gun, superglue, carefully piecing together broken ceramic as Finding Nemo plays in the background. By the time the seagulls are all racing around the screen, frantically yelling ‘mine!’ they’ve set the now-fixed mug gingerly on the counter, out of harm’s way, and cleaned up all the spilled hot chocolate. As the night creeps on, their eyes growing heavier and heavier, they make it through Mulan, The Princess and the Frog, and The Nightmare Before Christmas. Just before they start The Black Cauldron, his friend gently taps the side of the mug.

“…I think it’s fixed!”

“Wait, really? That was fast!”

“Dude, it was like…at least six hours ago.”

“Is that how fast superglue sets?”

“Have you never used superglue before?”

“Hey!”

The sight of his friend with her favorite mug cradled in her lap makes him smile as he turns his attention back to the screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her talking softly to herself, saying how she promises to be more careful next time, how she’s so happy the mug is fixed, it’ll be better now, stronger this time. And yet she still cradles the cracked, seamed thing with the same tenderness she did when they first picked up the pieces.

He looks back down at the chipped mug in his lap. The chip is so small. It’s barely noticeable. It doesn’t make the mug leak or anything. The mug still works as a mug.

He runs his thumb over the rim, feeling just the slightest pressure when he runs over the chip. If he tried to drink from that side, it would hurt.

She’s had this mug for…years?

He looks back over at the mug in his friend’s lap.

The broken mug gets fixed.

The chipped mug stays chipped forever.

“Thomas?”

Thomas blinks, looking up from his lap to see Logan standing next to him. Logan adjusts his tie.

“You took a moment to respond.”

“Sorry. Did we, uh, are we late for something? Did I miss a deadline?”

There’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it expression that flitters across Logan’s face. Then he adjusts his glasses and it’s gone. Thomas frowns.

“…you okay, bud? What was that?”

“What was what, Thomas?”

“You, uh, you made a face.”

“I have a face, Thomas, we all have faces.”

“But you made an expression.”

“…I believe I am…incapable of not making an expression.”

“Logan,” Thomas sighs, “please tell me what’s wrong.”

Well, he certainly takes him by surprise at any rate. Logan glances around—is he worried the others are going to show up?—and adjusts his glasses again.

“I suppose I was…perturbed,” he settles on finally, “that your immediate assumption when I appeared was that I was going to…reprimand you in some way.”

Oh. “Jeez, um, sorry, Logan, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Logan waves him off. “It’s quite alright.”

“But…no, it’s not.” Thomas shakes his head. “You…we gotta talk about this…more, but that’s not the only thing you’re important for. You know that, right?”

…well, Logan’s certainly making a face now. It’s the same one he made after Remus first appeared, after Thomas called him ‘cool.’ After a moment of savoring Logan looking a little flustered, he prompts him gently.

“Did you wanna talk about something?”

“Right,” Logan says quickly, shaking himself, “do you remember our conversation about neurodivergent communities?”

Right. They’d been talking about trying to find therapists during COVID and how it would be difficult since, y’know…going outside is more than kind of a no-no. Virgil had brought up how it’s almost impossible to get a good read on whether or not a therapist would be appropriate for them without a proper appointment, which…kind of led to everyone agreeing that maybe it would be better to try just the texting one first. Logan had mentioned trying to find a group of people to talk to, not just a single person, until Janus said something about not knowing how to navigate something like that.

Not one of their more productive conversations.

“Since your desire to try and see a therapist seems to have stagnated,” Logan says as Thomas nods, “I have found an alternative solution that I believe might be more suited to your current approach to your mental health problems.”

“I don’t—Logan, I don’t have—“

The look Logan levels at him is enough to get him to shush.

“What’s the solution?”

“One of the main obstacles for finding a therapist or seeking help in a group setting was an unawareness of how to properly navigate those dynamics, correct?” Thomas nods. “Then it seems that a solution would be to simply find a group where you do understand the dynamics, yes?”

“…how do I do that?” Thomas scruffs a hand through his hair. “I—look, I…I get that I should talk to someone, we made that clear but it’s just—I don’t—“

Logan waits patiently, his head tilted slightly, as Thomas struggles for words.

“…it’s not that bad,” Thomas says lamely.

“But we’ve established that—“

“I know, I know,” Thomas groans, burying his head in his hands, “but it’s just like—I don’t think I belong there.”

“Why not?”

“Isn’t that for people who have it worse?”

There must be some note of hysteria in that last word because Logan blinks and eases himself down onto the couch next to him, folding his hands in his lap and waiting patiently. When it’s clear Thomas isn’t going to be able to make words go for a while, he clears his throat.

“You don’t want to join a space in which you are not welcome, correct?”

Thomas nods miserably.

“This idea that you will not be welcome stems from the idea that your problems are not…severe enough?”

“Aren’t they?”

“Why must they be more severe for you to seek help?”

“I don’t know, I just—what if they think I’m faking?”

“Are you?”

That’s the kicker, isn’t it? When Thomas looks helplessly at Logan, uncertainty probably written plainly all over his face, Logan tilts his head.

“If you have to ask whether or not you’re faking,” he says in a soft voice Thomas rarely hears, “it’s almost certain that you are not.”

Thomas just nods dumbly.

“Mental illnesses can manifest in a variety of ways,” Logan continues in that same soft voice—and anyone who says Logan doesn’t understand emotion can get out—“and you do not have to fulfill a certain standard of ‘bad’ in order to seek help.”

“But then how do I find people to—who will—who are gonna—“

“…understand?”

“Yeah.”

Logan’s mouth quirks up. “When was the last time you were on Tumblr?”

Thomas blinks. “Excuse me? Also don’t you know that?”

“I do.” Logan gestures to Thomas’s phone. “You wanted a space where you understand how to interact with people and where talking about these types of things will not be a drastic breach of boundaries, yes?”

“…yeah?”

“You would be surprised at the amount of neurodivergent communities online.”

“So why’re you asking me about Tumblr?” The second it comes out of his mouth Thomas’s eyes widen. “Logan—“

“I am not suggesting that be your only source of help, by any means,” Logan says quickly, “but it might serve as a good starting point. You know what is to be expected from Tumblr—relatively speaking,” he corrects when Thomas makes a face, “and it will help you see that, despite what you may think, you’re not alone.”

Logan stands, giving Thomas one last look before he sinks out.

“…and you don’t have to be grateful it isn’t worse, Thomas.”

Thomas looks down at his phone. He opens the app and types something into the search bar.

Logan was right. People…people talk about stuff on Tumblr. Admittedly, it’s Tumblr, so it’s an absolute hellsite, but there is something a little reassuring about being able to just…word vomit into a post and see other people doing the same.

Friendly reminder that people’s symptoms are gonna manifest in different ways and you’re not allowed to judge someone who experiences something different than you

REMINDED THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO GRATEFUL THAT THINGS AREN’T WORSE WE DO NOT PLAY THE PAIN OLYMPICS IN THIS HOUSE

You’re not alone.

He’s still gonna have to figure out how to find a therapist. He’s still gonna have to figure out how to talk about this kind of stuff.

But for now, he can sit here and scroll and realize that there are words he can use to describe these things and it finally might start feeling right.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @marshmallow-fluffy @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thefingergunsgirl @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @such-a-dumbass

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#sanders sides #character thomas #logan sanders #dragonbabbles #fic

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thevirgodoll · 4 years

Note

My mental health has been stopping my success no matter how hard I try. I’ve been going to therapy and getting help and it’s getting a little better but it’s still unbelievably hard. I’d love to hear your tips on being gentle bc sometimes the thoughts get too much. And the people around me aren’t the kindest (working on getting out of this situation as well)

•get some sleep...ik this is the hardest thing but YOU NEED 8 HOURS - it changes everything...less sleep for me brings on an episode

•journaling: when things get rough literally just open a document or a diary and just let it all out, don’t worry about making it perfect...just do a stream of consciousness daily to analyze your thought process and be honest n real

•have a hobby...it will make you feel so much better

•remember that you have something impacting your brain and life...it is NOT your fault

•have someone that will hold you accountable and check in on you!!!

•get away from negative people...they’re a poison to you - if they happen to be in your space then limit your interactions with them and don’t give them any reaction. give them NOTHING! leave them fighting for attn

•be honest about your bad days!!! stop holding back on that because you’ll just feel like garbage

•depressive episodes? set timers to eat, set timers to shower, for everything

•prepare yourself when you’re feeling bad, have your snacks and movies and everything and just take it easy stop berating yourself just be nice and acknowledge that you’re sick and you deserve rest

•workout at home with a baddie playlist...get yourself moving or dance to some music

•have compassion for yourself the same way you have for other ppl. stop treating yourself like you don’t have feelings

•validate yourself...don’t overlook your trauma or pain. everyone is hurting. you’re allowed to hurt it doesn’t matter how far gone you think you are or how bad of a person your mental illness claims you are..you are doing okay and it’s going to get better. it’s not easy but it’s worth it. let your heart cry, and let your inner child catch a break. for once, just stop carrying the weight of it all.

•DONT LET ANYONE DEMONIZE OR STEREOTYPE YOUR MENTAL ILLNESSES!! this is why people invalidate themselves!! trust me i have a loottttt to say on this. people do NOT get it and i understand, trust me they use bipolar as an adjective (when it has multiple states??? so it makes no sense), they think my ADHD only means i’m smart and can’t pay attn (that’s...not even the half of it), and that there’s no disability or chronic illness...don’t let ppl downplay anything!!!!!!!! and don’t let ppl make you feel bad for meds either like? the ignorance!

•when intrusive thoughts come, take a deep breath and acknowledge how you’re feeling...question them...ask about the rationality...combat them with statements about yourself (“well i’m smart so that’s just not true.” “i know i’m loved so that’s just an irrational thought”). THE NEGATIVITY ITS ALL THOUGHTS & FEELINGS! but not facts

•combat more thoughts with comforting statements like

“i know this situation will pass”

“this feeling won’t last forever”

“i won’t fight my feelings. but i know they won’t be allowed to stay much longer. i’m going to focus on this opportunity to take back control of my life. my thoughts don’t control me, i do.”

“this will all be over soon. everything will be okay.”

•be honest in therapy...yes we can joke about lying but it does nothing but stunt your growth. tell the truth, the therapist is only there to help. this is a form of self love - you’re being honest and getting the treatment you deserve because you deserve to win!!!

•if you take medicine, don’t skip doses...no matter how hard the day is, you’re going to feel much worse if you skip any doses. you’re going to feel dead inside and absolutely horrible. medicine may not work one day but that doesn’t mean you won’t have a better day tomorrow. medicine isn’t guaranteed to always work, you’re going to still have bad days. monitor your progress though, if you have more bad days than good, schedule the appointment (if you have a mood disorder, consider the fact that you may be in an episode love). but do not stop meds without speaking to your doctor. and if your meds are working, don’t skip doses and stay hydrated and watch your alcohol intake / or don’t drink because all of these things can mess with the effectiveness of your meds.

•you may feel like being alone is worse than anything, but it’s not. your own company will end up being the best. this is the time to learn about yourself. cook new things. change your wardrobe. again, hobbies!!! learn new languages. have fun with yourself...do a exercise of 5 things you’re grateful for, qualities you love about yourself, and things you look forward to with yourself as far as mental health improvement. now on the flip side, don’t isolate yourself!!! let your loved ones in, and let them be there especially if they’re healthy to be around and they understand and are trying.

•suicidal thoughts: if you’re feeling this way, i understand...and because i understand i’m not going to make you feel bad about passively feeling this way. these thoughts that creep in are the worst, and they can cycle for hours on end even if you don’t WANT to do this. it’s going to be okay angel, i promise. don’t suffer in silence. and if you actively want to or still passively, please please PLEASE remember. you are important, worthy, and loved beyond measure... my inbox stays open for any and all concerns. love u all

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petri808 · 4 years

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

Lucy POV. TW: Panic Attack, Mental trauma/coping, PTSD

The university and Lucy’s professors had been really wonderful about everything, even offering to convert her classes to an online option so she could continue. She wasn’t happy about the idea of taking a sabbatical from college, but there was no way she could manage. Not only was it difficult for her to leave the apartment because seeing anyone that remotely resembled Touka sent her into a panic attack, focusing on anything at all was a struggle. Night after night it haunted her dreams and spilled into her waking moments. She’d run scenarios through her mind, all the what if’s, should haves, could haves, often leading to horrifying outcomes. They’d survived, yes, but at what cost?

She didn’t feel the same anymore as if a part of her did die in that apartment or fled to a hidden part of her brain too scared to come back out. The once happy, positive person had become a nervous wreck unable to control her emotions or outbursts. Lucy’s bedroom became her safe zone from everyone, even those closest to her, ashamed and insecure of their judgement. In her heart she knew friends like Levy or Natsu wouldn’t judge... but tell that to her broken mind, because her brain was the one in control at the moment, and insisted they’d look down on her.

All the irrational thoughts. It was her fault for not being careful, her fault she was kidnapped. Lucy knew Touka was growing dangerous, yet walking alone, at night... utterly stupid. She should have been overzealous at protecting herself, but oh no, stupid girl didn’t want to believe anything would actually happen. Until it did. And now she was even more pathetic and weak for not getting a hold of her emotions, for not controlling it instead of it controlling her. The danger had passed. They were alive. Touka was in jail. It should be over, but it wasn’t. Lucy couldn’t move past that night, stuck in an endless loop of fear. So many nights she’d wake up in a panic covered in sweat, the fading images of red... blood... like dripping down a tv screen in a horror movie. It was Natsu’s blood she saw and his screams when the knife had sliced him open.

The first week after the event had been difficult, sitting through an interview with Gajeel, and reliving all the mental wounds. It took several hours to get through it all despite the man doing his best to go easy on her. Each time painful parts came up, Lucy felt the anxieties rise, the mental blurring, the shaking, literally a physical shaking of her body in an effort to dispel the rise of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Interviews are best done without any other potential witnesses in the room to avoid cross contamination, but after Lucy’s first two attempts to talk to investigators failed, Gajeel was forced to allow Natsu in with explicit instructions to sit quietly and say nothing while the woman talked. Of course, Natsu’d been fine with that, he’d do anything to help, even if it was just holding Lucy’s hand. But it only added to her embarrassment. Surely Natsu will eventually tire of having an unstable girlfriend.

Then there was the therapist Levy helped Lucy to find which she hoped would help her to quickly get over the events and move on. So, when the woman explained that such traumas take patience and time to process, Lucy was devastated. It almost felt like nothing was going her way anymore, falling dominoes with no end in sight. She felt so ashamed for having to see the woman in the first place, and now she’s told it would be a long journey towards recovery. Just great! What’s next?!

“Lu?” Levy knocked before opening the bedroom door. “Are you gonna eat your dinner in here again? It’s ready.”

With the curtains drawn, Lucy’s room was dark and the only light available was a small desk lamp next to the bed set to a low setting. She peeked out from under her blanket. “I-I’ll come out in a minute, thanks Lev.”

As soon as her friend closed the door, Lucy exhaled in relief. She knew Levy was worried about the amount of time she stayed holed up in the room, so to dispel some of those concerns, Lucy would join her roommate for meals. She quickly applied a gauze wrap, threw on her long sleeve hoodie, and left the room. It made her feel safer to be shrouded and covered up, so gone were her skirts and tank tops, and hello to long sleeves and pants. If she could cover her face from the world, it would make her happy. Even her overall hygiene suffered. Lucy would forget to bathe or wash her hair for days on end, and it took Levy or Natsu with gentle prodding to get her to do it. She would wear the same clothes for a week if it wasn’t for Levy who made sure she changed at least every couple of days. Hell, she’d starve if her roommate wasn’t feeding her. This was a frustrating cycle, not having the mental energy to take care of herself, then feeling bad because they had to help her with things, which made her feel even worse.

It tore at Lucy’s heart to watch Natsu going through this process with her. She knew he was going through his own struggles, not just mental, but physically healing from his wounds. And here she was, the basket case of instability. Bless him, he never gave up no matter how distant she grew, but after that night, Lucy really didn’t want to talk about anything out loud, not that night, and certainly not the true extent of her pain from it. Both Levy and Natsu knew only what she couldn’t hide from them. Like the panic attacks, and since she really didn’t want them to see her go through one or what she’d resorted to, to calm herself, so the safest solution was stay quiet and not trigger them in their presence.

To show his dedication, Natsu even went with her to her therapy sessions and waited outside the office. Lucy knew it was costing him money to do this, because she couldn’t ride a train which meant cab rides every single trip. It bothered her a lot, but she did her best to hide it, and besides there was one small measure of security in having him at her side when she needed to venture out into the public.

“So, the nightmares are still a problem?” the therapist questioned Lucy. “Are you sure you don’t want to try a medication? It would help to ease them until we can get things under control.”

Lucy gripped to the hem of her sweater. “I just don’t wanna become addicted to that stuff...”

“That’s understandable. But not all are addictive, and I’ll be here to make sure it doesn’t get out of hand.”

“I... I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” the woman smiled. “Remember I’m just here to help you, at your pace. I won’t force you take anything you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.”

“What about the breathing and relaxation techniques? When you feel the anxiety rising, are you trying out the steps?”

“I try... I don’t think I’m very successful at it.”

“Does it work sometimes?”

Lucy pauses for a few seconds in thought before nodding yes.

“See, that is progress!” The woman encouraged excitedly. “Two weeks ago, it didn’t help at all, and now it works sometimes. It’s a big step forward Lucy.”

“Doesn’t feel like it is...” Lucy mumbled.

“I know it’s hard to see it for yourself, and that’s okay. These things take time and practice. Do you remember what I said about these things?”

“Not really.” Which was true. During the first week when the therapist explained the processes, Lucy had stopped listening as soon as the woman said it would take time.

“Let me ask you a question. You like to write stories, right?”

“Yeah.”

“When you first started, were you able to just write perfect stories.”

“Pfft, no.”

“Then how did you get better at it?”

Lucy rolled her eyes, knowing where this was going. “Practice.”

“Yes! The PTSD requires learning new coping skills as well as unlearning irrational ones. To do both takes practice. The more we work at it, the easier it will get, I promise. One day you’ll be able to look back at this experience and feel stronger for it.”

She really wanted to believe the woman, but it was so hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel! Tears well up in Lucy’s eyes, seconds before they start to flow down her cheeks. “Why is this so hard?! I just wanna get back to normal!” She could feel her anxieties rising. “I... I-I don’t wanna talk about it anymore! I just wanna forget it ever happened!”

The woman reached over and took Lucy’s hand, applying a strategic amount of pressure while rubbing her thumb over the webbing in a counter stimulus. She softened in tone. “I wish I could say that would work, but in order to get past it, you need to confront it. Together we’re gonna turn the boogieman into Casper the friendly ghost.”

It was such a weird way of putting things, it caused Lucy’s mind to snap out of the anxiety and snort a sniffling laugh in response. “Casper the friendly ghost?!”

“It was the first thing to pop into my mind,” the therapist laughed too. “The point is, we’re going to work together and slowly bring you to a place where this no longer scares you.”

“O-Okay...”

The rest of the session was tough, and Lucy had come close to a panic attack several times, but as a trained therapist, the woman stepped in at the right times to bring her levels down again using breaks and breathing routines. Sure, with a professional in front of you, it wasn’t as bad, but doing this on her own, the attacks were still winning. At the end of the session, the woman suggested a new technique to try out based on Lucy’s love of writing.

“You’ve heard of art therapy, so just think of this as a different form of creative therapy. Writing a diary is helpful to get out your feelings out in a healthy way. But let’s take it one step forward to use your skills in fiction writing. I want you to try before the next session, writing a story where you interject your emotions, feelings, whatever you want into the characters and story. Kind of like your character becomes you, but now you get to control what happens to them after the trauma they endure.”

“Wait, so you want me to write about a character that goes through what I went through?! Like torture my own character?!”

“Yes, to put it bluntly. Take your pain and unleash it onto the fictional character. It’s a much healthier way of releasing your anger or frustration in something that can’t really be hurt. Do whatever you want to them. But remember you also get to give them the ending you want to. It’s about utilizing a tool you’re already comfortable with and taking back some control. It’ll be normal if you cry, scream, and get upset through the process, but that’s okay, because instead of holding it all in, you’re getting your feelings out.”

Lucy slumped back in her seat. It sounded strange, yet at the same time made a bit of sense to her. Angst type stories were not really her forte, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it, especially since pain is all she was channeling at the moment. She sighed. “I’ll try.”

“And that’s totally okay. All I ask is that you give it a try.”

#nalu #nalu fan fic #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #nalu fanfiction #strangers on a train #ch 24 #angst #TW: panic attack #TW: PTSD

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uncloseted · 4 years

Note

Hey! I’m the anon (and also Gay!Bama anon) who sent the asks about BPD and being rejected by that closeted guy. I guess the reason I think I have BPD is because I’m in my 20’s now, and I just have issues with perceived rejection for whatever reason. Anytime someone rejects me or something, I get really depressed and question myself a lot, or I question my worth, and it’s over things that should not be a big deal, but to me they feel like the end of the world. It’s like I have no emotional skin, if that makes sense, so everything hurts more than it would someone who is normal. It’s just so hard sometimes. I get so emotional or upset over things that there’s no need in being that upset over. I just wish I could change it, but I can’t. I feel like I’ve destroyed a lot of potential relationships and also friendships by overreacting and it makes me feel so crazy. (1/2)

(2/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I think it might be because my Dad and me always had a difficult relationship, and now that he’s gone things are really more difficult than before. I started going back to therapy and I’m about to go back to school to finish up my degree, but I just wish I could manage these feelings better. The only way I have been able to deal with them is by either numbing them with alcohol, drugs, or fulfilling them with anonymous encounters, or just cutting myself off from other people, so that way I have nothing to react to. It just really sucks because I’m so lonely all the time, but I don’t know what else to do about it other than that. I used to self harm to help me cope with my feelings, because then I could hurt myself and not hurt the people in my life by lashing out over trivial things, like irrelevant rejection or changing plans. It feels like every small thing is a seed, from which sprouts a tree of paranoia and depression.

(3/3) (Gay!Bama anon) I also have had such a hard time trying to figure out my plans for a career and goals because I’m always switching them up, because one personality trait might take the forefront, but then that could change and that influences how I feel about something or what I want to do. I just wish I could turn all of these feelings off for a while, or something, and just be like calm or something.

Hi Gay!Bama anon! Always happy to see you in my inbox, although I’m sorry to hear that you’re struggling. The fact that I know it’s you and I know you’re in your 20s changes my answer slightly.

There are a number of symptoms that need to be present to be diagnosed with borderline personality disorder; rejection sensitivity is definitely one of them, but not the only one. The DSM-5 requires five or more of the following symptoms for a BPD diagnosis:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Emotional instability in reaction to day-to-day events (e.g., intense episodic sadness, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days. Generally, these are out of proportion to the event that triggered them)

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment (e.g., calling a friend/partner/family member several times a day during working hours and getting upset when they don’t answer)

Identity disturbance with markedly or persistently unstable self-image or sense of self (e.g., frequently and suddenly changing goals, beliefs, vocational aspirations, and sexual identity, or assuming the identity of people they’re close to)

Impulsive behavior in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, gambling, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, binge eating, committing crimes)

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights)

Pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes between idealization and devaluation (also known as "splitting"- basically, thinking a person is the best person ever, the love of your life, your best friend, someone with no faults, and then switching to thinking the person is the worst person ever, who has never cared about you, who has no redeeming qualities. This typically results in alternating between over-involvement with the person and withdrawal from the person)

Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-harming behavior

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms (typically only lasting hours or days, and triggered by an external stressor. Dissociative symptoms may include feeling like your body is unreal or altered in a strange way, feeling that the outside world is unreal, and illusions).

People with BPD will also typically have a compromised ability to recognize the feelings and needs of other people, and have intense, unstable, and conflicted relationships that are marked by mistrust and neediness. It’s also important that these symptoms have persisted over time and across different situations.

If that doesn’t resonate with you, there are a number of other different conditions that result in being particularly sensitive to rejection, including social anxiety, depression, generalized anxiety, ADD/ADHD, eating disorders, and childhood trauma are just a few things that could cause a fear of rejection. I would talk to your therapist about this symptom and ask for help coming up with some coping mechanisms.

If all of that does sound like you, I would talk to your therapist about a possible BPD diagnosis and potentially a referral to a therapist who specializes in dialectical behavioral therapy. DBT is the most studied and effective treatment for BPD, so it’s a good place to start if that is what you’re struggling with. In the meantime, you can learn the principles of DBT on your own and try to begin applying them to your life.

DBT combines mindfulness with techniques for distress tolerance, emotional regulation, and interpersonal effectiveness. Having a therapist and attend group therapy sessions are an important part of a full course DBT. However, there are several exercises you can try at home:

Keeping a Diary

One of the easiest things you can do at home is to start tracking your behaviors. Note any self-injurious or life threatening behaviors, behaviors which indirectly cause harm to yourself or others, and quality of life issues. Write down any triggers you’ve noticed.

Mindfulness

There are a few different types of mindfulness exercises you can try. Since you mentioned that you want to be able to turn your feelings off, trying meditation might be a good place to start. There are some good apps, like Headspace and Calm, that can help you learn how to meditate and encourage you to practice meditation, and there are also a ton of videos on YouTube that do the same.

DBT encourages the concept of “radical acceptance”- the idea that one should face situations, both positive and negative, without any judgement. Try to let go of fighting reality and accept a situation for what it is. When you’ve accepted a situation, then you can figure out how to change it.

You can also try using “what” skills when practicing mindfulness; these are observe, describe, and participate. They’re “what” you do when you’re practicing mindfulness. Nonjudgementally paying attention to the present moment is an important component of DBT, so the first thing you can do is observe. Try to nonjudgementally observe your environment within and outside of yourself. Notice the feelings you’re experiencing, and then try to let slide off of your mind. Next, describe: express what you observed, either to someone around you or to yourself. Try to use your five senses to put words to what you’re observing. What can you see? Hear? Smell? Taste? Feel? Finally, participate: try your best to be fully focused on and involved in any activity that you’re doing. When your mind wanders, gently pull it back to the task you’re currently doing.

Distress Tolerance

One of the goals of DBT is to help people develop the ability to calmly recognize negative situations and decide if and how to address them. It’s important to learn how to be distressed without becoming overwhelmed or hiding from that feeling.

TIPP is one of the fastest and most popular distress tolerance skills, since it alleviates distress quickly. Tip the temperature of your face by splashing it with very cold water, intensely exercise for 20 minutes, do paced breathing- breathe in for four seconds and our for six to eight seconds, and then do progressive muscle relaxation- starting from the top of your body, tense and relax each muscle group until you get to your toes.

You can also distract yourself from unpleasant emotions using ACCEPTS. Engage in activities that you enjoy, contribute by helping others, compare yourself to people who are less fortunate or how you used to be when you were in a worse state, evoke a different emotion by putting on a happy song or watching a comedy special, push away your situation in your mind, and put something else first by thinking about something else, and finally, create sensations that are intense, such as holding an ice cube or eating spicy food.

Another thing you can try when you’re in distress is to IMPROVE the moment. Imagine relaxing scenes, things going well, or other pleasing scenarios, find meaning in what you’re feeling, pray, if you’re religious, relax your muscles using the progressive muscle relaxation we talked about above, do one thing at a time, and focus all your attention on it, vacation if you can (by taking a break from the situation), and encourage yourself. Tell yourself it’s possible to make it through your current situation and cope with it. You can be your own best cheerleader.

Emotional Regulation

Since people who have BPD frequently have intense emotions, it can be helpful to learn how to regulate those emotions.

First, try identifying and labeling your emotions. Tune in with yourself and ask yourself what you’re feeling. Is it anger? Fear? Sadness? Then, you can try to change unwanted emotions using opposite-reactions. With opposite-reactions, you do the opposite of the urge you’re feeling in the moment. For example, if you want to isolate yourself, instead, reach out to a friend.

Fact-checking is also an important technique- ask yourself, “do the facts warrant the intensity of the response I’m feeling?” Then ask yourself, “what is the event prompting my emotion,” “what are my interpretations and assumptions about the event, and are those true?”, “am I assuming a threat? How likely is it to actually occur?”, “what’s the disaster? How can I cope well with it?”, and “does my emotion or intensity fit the facts?” There’s a sample fact-checking worksheet that you can find here: http://edencounseling.com/resources/dbt-emotional-regulation-group-4-handouts.pdf

If your facts are correct and the situation is the problem, then you can problem solve. First, identify your goal in solving the problem- what needs to happen for you to be okay, and what’s reasonable? Then, brainstorm as many solutions as you can come up with, without being critical of your ideas. Choose a solution that fits your goal and is likely to work, using a pro/con list to decide if necessary. Act on your decision, and then evaluate if it worked. If it didn’t work, go back to the “choose” stage and pick a different solution to try.

Interpersonal Effectiveness

Interpersonal relationships can be difficult for people with DBT, so it’s important to learn how to ask for what you need, how to say no, and how to cope with interpersonal conflicts. There are three techniques in this module: DEAR MAN, GIVE, and FAST.

The DEAR MAN technique focuses on conveying your needs to someone else. Start by describing your situation using specific, fact-based statements about a recent situation. Then express the emotions experienced when the situation occurred, why the situation was a problem, and how you feel about it. Assert yourself by clearly and specifically requesting the behavior change you would like. Reinforce your position by explaining to the person what the positive impacts of changing their behavior might be for them. Mindfully focus on the situation, without seeking validation, and redirect the conversation back to your main point when it seems to be diverting. Appear confident and assertive, even if you’re not feeling confident or assertive. Finally, negotiate with the person to come to a compromise that both parties are happy with.

The GIVE tool focuses on relationship maintenance, whether that’s with friends, family, co-workers, or romantic partners. It is used in conversations. Use gentle language, free of put-downs, sarcasm, or judgement, even as a joke. Be as interested as you can in what the other person is saying. Give them your undivided attention by making eye contact and asking questions. Really listen to them, don’t just wait your turn to talk. Validate their situation, either through words, body language, or facial expressions. Often, people just want to be heard and for someone to understand what they’re going through. Finally, try to adopt an easy manner: do your best to appear calm and comfortable during the conversation. Use friendly humor and smile.

The FAST skill focuses on maintaining your self-respect. Be fair to yourself and to the person you’re talking to. Don’t apologize more than once, and only apologize for things that are your fault. Stick to your values- determine what you believe and stand by it, without letting other people sway your decisions. Lastly, be truthful. Lying can only damage relationships and reduce the respect you have for yourself.

I know that’s a ton of stuff I’ve just thrown at you, so if you’re still with me, thank you! You don’t have to adopt all of these skills at once or even at all. Getting good at just one or two of them will improve your life. A therapist will be able to help you practice these different skills so that when you need them, they’re already in your mind. Good luck! I hope you get the support you need and that things start looking up for you soon.

#DBT #borderline personality disorder #BPD #dialectical behavioral therapy #Anonymous #effys-closet #effys closet

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years

Text

My very own Prince Charming (Bucky x reader Royal AU) - Pt. 1

Word count: 4705

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Queen!reader

Warning: Mild cursing

A:/N: I don't know much about royal protocols and other stuff so I mostly based myself on the Princess Diaries and some googling. Message me if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts or updates on my masterlist. Also, this won’t match the MCU timeline, but will have some elements of the plot. And, for the sake of the story, S.H.I.E.L.D. is an international organization.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE MARVEL CHARACTERS/ PLOT.

Twenty three years ago, international intelligence had detected activity of Hydra members inside King James’ palace, and his only son, and heir to the crown, had received multiple threats. At first, the stubborn monarch didn’t make major changes, claiming Hydra was only cultivating fear. The prince was kidnapped, and only then were exhaustive measures taken, and; in a matter of a few months, he was found and taken back home.

It was hard not to notice that the traumatic experience had affected both the boy and his father, for the two of them had grown paranoid of something happening to them, or to their kingdom. So, internal security was doubled and the prince was sent into hiding.

But the problem was nowhere near eliminated. More recent investigations had unmasked the nation’s Prime Minister, Alexander Pierce, and other members of the court, as Hydra spies and, considering the events that had unfolded before, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw how relaxed the old king seemed to be with it all.

That morning, he had strolled into your palace with the warm smile that he always seemed to wear; and, only after drinking his peppermint tea, did he step into the meeting room.

It had been an hour since then.

Now, you were desperately trying to keep your composure. The meeting had been going on and on in what seemed like circles and King James Barnes could not bring himself to understand how serious the situation was.

With Pierce imprisoned, the king openly expressed his intention to bring his son back into the spotlight. This, you thought, was the most reckless decision he could make, and you didn't keep it to yourself. As soon as you heard, you asked to meet him to make him see the risks of the whole plan. After all, it affected you directly, given that the prince was your betrothed.

“Your majesty, I believe that matter was already taken care of, Minister Pierce and the rest of the traitors were imprisoned for their actions,” he assured, with his silver brows frowned.

“That’s not enough, it’s unsafe and idiotic for Prince James to come back until the whole engine of Hydra is dismantled.” You took a sip of your coffee, trying to appear calm.

“They’ll spend the rest of their days in maximum security; that will deliver the message. There is nothing to worry about.''

“Hydra won’t even flinch with their imprisonment, Prince James won’t be welcome here until the coast is clearer or international measures are taken,” you stated, crossing your arms.

"That’s not a call for you to make, dear. I Will make the arrangements for my son to be sent here, as I had agreed with your father and the parliament of Galicia, and wedding preparations will commence as soon as he arrives."

They won't get any more fear from us," he looked at you pointedly; "from neither of our kingdoms”.

…

You had met Tony Stark a few years prior, at the annual Diamond Aircraft Industries Convention and Exhibition, which you were both attending as honored guests. Just needed to say that, In Bruce's words, everything had gone downhill from there.

He was one of the most frequent guests at the palace and you were one of the most distinguished figures to attend his parties; but, it was more than that. Since your friendship with the businessman began developing, you tested the waters and, bit by bit, grew to trust him. You became the closest of friends, and each other’s esporadical, charge-free therapists.

For obvious reasons, he told you all about his media starboy business, but you barely knew what went on downstairs, in his lab. Same went for him; you didn’t tell him everything, and he understood. But both of you had the vice of rambling a lot; so he had a good idea of the royal gossip going on in your life, and you had a few clues about his mad-scientist mystery.

There wasn’t much rambling, at the moment; just the therapy part. Your head rested between your hands while your mind drifted off, softly singing along the AC/DC album playing from the computer in front of you, thinking about possible solutions for the problem at hand. However, the awfully permanent smirk plastered on your friend's face didn't help at all. You groaned, lifting your head and frowning at the billionaire.

“So… you’re not gonna marry him? There's one little problem standing in your way,” Tony scoffed, filling two glasses with his finest Macallan. “Kind of a big problem actually: thirty-seven parliament members who'll have your head if you go all Princess Diaries on them. Not to mention Jimbo and junior, and daddy's ghost roaming around your castle."

“Well, it's the only solution I can think of, daddy dearest sure managed to leave me between a gun and a wall, and not figuratively. I can’t call off the engagement just try to postpone it, that way, at least the king will have no reason to take his son back home anytime soon and, hopefully, I avoid getting a terrorist pain in the ass.”

He leaned on the counter, taking a long sip of his drink. “Why do you care so much about Prince Charming; for all we know, old Jamey may have some Kingsman business under the table and, wedding or not, it’s gonna involve Galicia”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, haven't you seen the news? How useful can a secret plan be if his government is basically Hydra's headquarters by now?”

"Well, from the PG civilian version that you, and half of the journals worldwide, have told me, all of us are eventually gonna get bugged by Hydra, so you might as well make up a pro-wedding plan, which leads me to my field of expertise. Whatever you do, don't even try to pull a Mia Thermopolis. Trust me, the cameras are gonna be all over you, now more than ever; so, unless you wanna go from princess to pauper real quick, you need to behave.”

You emptied your glass, sitting back. "Nothing to worry about then. I’d rather hide under a rock than face a camera right now. Besides, don’t really know what they find appealing about my life; they already have Prince Harry and his American Girl, turning everything into some reality show.”

He quirked a brow, snickering. “No offense, but your life’s basically the royal edition of Parental control.”

"Fuck off. I'm not even against marrying the guy; I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Let’s see, um, Donald Trump bad, Charlie Sheen bad, Alec Baldwin bad,” he grimaced, “Amber Heard bad, ooh… Caytlin Jenner bad, want me to continue?"

"I get it, Stark, it may not be ideal; but I'm really not bothered by an arranged marriage.”

“He could be ten years old,” he began fidgeting with a paper, making tiny balls out of it.

You glared at him, “he’s not”.

“Could be gay,” he declared, throwing one of the balls into the trash can across the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing, look at Philip of Orleans,” You tried to dodge, but the next ball hit you on the nose. You picked it up from your lap, and threw it back at him.

“Cheesy,”

“There’s worse things.”

“Bald,”

“Seriously, Tony?” You complained, standing up and turning the light on. You then moved past your previous spot on the kitchen chair, going straight for the couch. You let yourself fall gracelessly and padded the spot next to you, where Tony sprawled himself with a huff.

“Or… he could be a cocky bastard.”

“Already got practice with those.” You smirked, smacking him lightly on the back of his head.

“Glad my bickering made you feel better,” he smiled at you.

You laughed. “Fuck you, Jimmy Neutron.”

“You wish,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote.

—————————————

Two weeks passed, and it was done. No turning back now, Prince James had been sent to his kingdom and, after some father-son quality time, was supposed to arrive at your palace that very morning, for you to finally meet him in the afternoon.

You felt like a complete idiot, like a high school girl. The last time you had seen the prince, you were both five, so all you could do was wonder how he had changed over the years. You had breakfast with an ambassador from the Global Charities Aid Foundation, but it had practically passed in a blur. Before you would’ve liked, you found yourself in the limousine, on your way back home, with the major part of the day still ahead of you.

Your gaze was glued to the driver’s head, you were motionless.

Thinking.

What were you supposed to say to him? “Hey, you’re welcome to put us all in danger, make yourself at home. By the way, I think your father’s a dickhead”?... not appropriate. It had to go something along the lines of “Your highness, hi. Welcome to your future home but still my kingdom. But, hey! you get to choose our wedding cake.”... no, too straight forward.

“After speaking to Colonel Rhodes at eleven, you'll be heading to the Marbella room at three, for greeting and welcoming the prince and his people; and later, at four, a sweet two hours of document verification and signing.”

It had to be perfect; consistent, not sharp… kind, but not weak… polite, but not passive agress—

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

You huffed, “No.”

Clint, one of your attachés, scoffed at your attitude but gave you an encouraging, soft smile. “Rhodes, prince, letters,” he clarified.

"Maybe a few gallons of coffee to go with it? I’m sure the breakfast meeting left us all half asleep," suggested your bodyguard, Pietro.

You let out a strangled laugh, but remained zoned out, until the intrigued gazes your bodyguard kept sending your way became too obvious.

“Do I have something on my face, Piet, or do you simply enjoy staring?” You spoke without catching his eye.

“Yes, no, nevermind… it’s just… there’s something on your face; a ‘gonna meet my husband’ look, kinda makes you look nervous.”

“Really?” Clint jeered.

You loured at him, earning an apologetic puppy look.

You chuckled, genuinely this time. Pietro could be annoying at times, he spoke without filter and got himself in trouble; but you couldn’t stay mad at him, the little shit always managed to make you laugh.

The limousine came to a stop, right in front of the palace. The door was opened for you, so you breathed once and graciously made your exit, followed by Pietro and Clint.

Arriving home always brought a smile to your face; the marble facade of the place, together with the colorful gardens, the blue of the sky, and the friendly faces of your staff and household members made you momentarily forget about what was to come.

“Your majesty, Mr. Barton,” grinned Wanda, your other attaché. “How was your meeting?”

“Not that bad," you found yourself smiling at her.

“Don’t I deserve a greeting?” asked Pietro, but his sister only rolled his eyes.

You scoffed at their quibbling. “How’s everything going? Has the Colonel arrived yet?”

“He’s waiting for you in the library.”

“Thanks, Wanda; I’ll see you later.” You made your way inside, closely followed by Pietro.

The Colonel was sitting on a velvet chair, going over a pile of paperwork. As soon as you made an appearance through the waiting room’s door, he stood up and subtly curtsied. “Your Majesty, Lieutenant Maximoff,” he greeted.

“Sorry for the wait, Colonel. Shall we begin?” You opened the library door, allowing both men to go inside before you.

You proceeded to settle on your desk, with your guest sitting in front of you. Pietro stationed himself at the door and adopted a firm posture, head held high and hands behind his back.

“Lieutenant, would you be kind enough to leave us alone?”

Complying with his superior’s words, Pietro unlocked the door but, when he was about to open it, you said, “Lieutenant, please stay. Colonel, whatever you need to speak to me as my head of security, I’m sure the commander of the royal guard, whom you personally named, poses no danger.”

“As you wish, your majesty; but I'm here to talk about a matter of absolute secrecy.”

You exhaled.

“As you know, with the current situation, it would be wise for you to take measures in regards to your personal protection. I know we're talking about not only an anarchist, but terrorist organization, which requires the employment of country-wide measures, but members of King James's War and Defense council have expressed their desire to keep our actions minimal, to see how Hydra proceeds.”

You quipped, “They want an attack.”

“I’m afraid so”, he nodded.

“Fine, they want discretion, we'll give it to them. I want SHIELD involved. While the King's people work on whatever it is they are doing, I want someone there to get information from Pierce and the other inmates. No need to worry about me.”

"That'll certainly end up in diplomatic issues if we don't consult the World Security Council first," he said as he scanned his planner notebook, looking for the other topics he had selected for going over.

"Too flashy," you mumbled, thinking.

“Maybe contact commander Hill,” suggested Pietro, who had heard about her reputation.

“Who?” you tilted your head.

“SHIELD’s Deputy Director”, clarified Rhodes, then prompted Pietro to continue.

He looked into Rhodes’ eyes, then yours. “Once you tell her about his majesty’s plan of not having a plan, I’m sure she’ll assign someone without having to involve diplomacy.”

“What do you, think, Colonel?”

“I’ll speak to her, and update you on the course of action that she recommends.”

Pietro smirked, his chest sticking out.

“Great.” You nodded.

He scratched the topic from his list, “on a different matter, I wanted to ask if you had already set a date for the arranged visit of the newly named members of the War and Defense council. I was thinking of next Friday, for dinner?”

“Friday is perfect, Colonel.” You smiled, “I’ll see them at eight pm on that day.”

….

You had three hours to spare before the most dreaded meeting you've had since the reading of your father’s will. It was only natural for your head to be foggy but you couldn’t afford to waltz through the day like that. Fresh air, that’s what you needed.

Discarding your trench, heels and dress, you jumped into a (classic avenger disguise) pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, making sure your face was more or less concealed by sunglasses and a baseball cap. Ready to go, you walked out walked out the door but, as expected, you didn’t even reach the stairs.

“Where’ you headed, your majesty?,” inquired Pietro, crossing his arms and lifting a brow.

He was the most loyal friend one could ask for, but annoyingly rigorous when it came to his job. He had to know where you were and who you were with, especially outside the castle’s protection.

“Just want some coffee, and maybe a croissant,” you tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your arm softly.

“You know all that you need to do is say the word, right? The kitchen’s a call away.” Now, he was messing with you; you could tell by his boyish smirk.

“You know what I mean,” you playfully punched his arm.

“Fine,” he lifted his hands defensively, “meet you downstairs.”

After you practically sprinted to the first floor, you sat down at the lobby and waited for your shadow. He walked down the stairs wearing a pair of gray joggers and a white basic v-neck, not forgetting his earpiece and gun, carefully concealed under his jacket.

Both of the guards at the entrance bowed slightly and opened the wooden door.

“Who would’ve thought you’d take babysitting so seriously?” You teased.

“Well, don’t wanna deal with Clint and Wanda yelling at me for losing you; not to mention Rhodes and Stark, ” he deadpanned. “Would be annoying. Also, I’d have to go job-hunting.”

“I’m sure you’d manage, I mean, half of Hollywood would cut an ear off for you to work for them.”

“What can I say, guess I'm that good at my job.”

You scoffed, “I bet their thoughts drift off to things a bit over your pay-grade.''

“Well, my ‘pay-grade’,” he air quoted, “ is negotiable.”

You quirked a brow at him, smirking, “eew.”

“You’re just jealous,” he taunted. “I’m sorry, but you're like my other sister."

"Yeah, right."

"One that's also my boss, kinda weird relationship; but, eh, you get the point."

You chuckled, letting the scene fall into a comfortable silence as you walked, occasionally hitting each other with your shoulders. After a few minutes, you arrived at your favorite coffee shop, and sat down on a table at the back.

When he placed two huge cups on the table, you laughed, “you weren’t kidding about the gallons of coffee.”

“Oh, you wanted some too, my bad.” He grabbed a cup with each hand, holding them out of your reach.

“Oh yeah?” You took hold of the cardboard plate which held both of your donuts and put it on your lap, under the table.

When you had your fill, and bought a few pastries to go, you made your way back to the castle.

“You know, we should lay down for a bit,” you voiced. “There, under the trees.”

“Don’t you have a blind date in like two hours?” Not that you don’t look hot right now, but you need to get all royalled up.”

Your smile disappeared, “Shit, you’re right.”

With the park now behind you, minutes went by as you walked through the crowded street with Pietro, animatedly discussing some recent soccer games.

You noticed that some odd looks were directed your way, so you tried to ignore them. Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe they had just recognized you. Better brush it off… you adjusted your hood and continued. But the whispers and snickering were a reaction you never got when seen in public.

It didn’t seem to stop. Now you were sure it wasn’t just you, so you looked at Pietro, silently asking for help. As a response, he placed an arm around your shoulders, shielding your face a bit better.

You continued talking as if nothing happened, but it was useless; even if the glances only came from some random pedestrians, it was getting pretty awkward.

You were about to stop walking, when you felt an unfamiliar hand tapping your shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, but you have a bloodstain on your pants,” the stranger scratched the back of his neck, clearly taken aback by the situation.

“Here.” He offered his denim jacket, which, after thinking about it for a moment, you accepted, wrapping it around your waist .

You smiled at him, and he visibly relaxed, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave you one last tight-lip smile and began toward the other side of the road, but still in the same direction in which you were going.

Pietro softly pushed you forward, prompting you to say something; “he gave you his jacket,” he mumbled.

“So?”

“Flirting,” he coughed.

You weren't supposed to; heck, you were on your way to meet your fiancé, but there was no harm in small talk… right? You took a breath, it was the first time you did this, so you had absolutely no idea what to say.

You took a step forward, then eyed Pietro, who urged you to continue… Here went nothing.

“I’m Y/N/N.”

He turned around, all of the sudden radiating confidence.

With an alluring smile that made his indigo eyes twinkle, he replied, “Bucky, nice to meet you.”

Pietro quietly snickered beside you, then opened his mouth, “and I’m Pietro, her boyf-”.

“Best friend”—you elbowed him in his right side— “he's my best friend.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted between the two of you. After hesitating for a second, he chose to believe you.

“So, where' you headed?” He asked.

You lied with ease, giving him a charming smile, “I have a meeting near the palace, how ‘bout you?”

“Same actually, wanna walk together?” His eyes drifted awkwardly between you and Pietro, “the… three of us?”

“Actually, my sister just texted me, says she needs help with, uhh, her cat; he's been... acting weird lately. Bye Y/N/N.”

Just like that, Pietro left. Only, he didn’t.

He had to keep an eye on you, so he was just gonna keep his distance.

“So, your best friend…” Bucky trailed off, hands half inside the pockets of his jeans.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘P’, "but let’s not talk about him. Your accent...,” you noted, “where are you from?”

“I’ve been living in New York for quite some time,” he didn’t answer your question, but you gave it no mind.

"What brought you all the way here?” You adjusted his jacket around your waist.

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a breath.

"I… sorry, you don't have to-...," you atoned, but he cut you off.

“Relax, doll, it’s fine," he assured. "My father called me last week, basically told me to drop everything and come help out with some family business.”

The way in which he spoke picked your interest; it wasn't with resentment or bitterness, which you'd have expected from someone who had basically left everything on hold, but just as if he had been waiting for that to happen. Nevertheless, his voice came out thicker than it had before, so you could tell he was clearly affected by it.

Unsure whether or not to change the topic, you asked, "what's New York like? I’ve never been there.”

He chuckled softly, lifting his brows, "exhausting, fast-paced, it's like everyone's in a rush all the time. it's surprisingly homely; the people, the sights, everything's great but, you know, the food’s what I love the most.”

You looked at him quizzically, tried to suppress a laugh, “seriously?”

“The touristy places aren’t bad, but, when you have an expert guide, that’d be me, it’s something else.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you removed your hood, but fixed your hair so it would frame your face.

“For now, you’ll have to.” He bit his lower lip, masking a smile.

Did he just say ‘for now’? Of course he did. You chuckled nervously, doing what you could to get rid of the silences that had surfaced.

“So, what else do you hide?, apart from being an expert New York foodie, of course,” you finally asked.

“I own a small gallery in Brooklyn,” he explained. “My friend, Steve, he’s an artist; we show and sell most of his work there,” his right hand moved to his hair, fixing a rebel strand. “But, enough ‘bout me. My turn to ask.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Ideal date.” He declared, with the same bold smile that, to be honest, made your knees tremble.

This time, you straight up laughed at how straight forward he was.

Before you’d have liked, you reached your destination. The World Trade Center and the Wakandan international aid center stood tall before you, in front of a subway station that led straight to the castle.

Instead of heading down the subway stairs, you smiled at him and stopped walking. “Well, this is me. It was nice walking with you, uh.. take care.”

You waved goodbye and walked to the buildings as fast as you could, avoiding any more conversation.

“Wait!” Bucky urged, “didn’t catch your number.”

You gave him his jacket back, together with an apologetic, tight lipped smile, and stepped inside.

What was Pietro thinking? No, what were you thinking? If people at the palace heard a word of it, you'd never get a break. Through the window, you saw him jogging toward the subway station with a slight frown on his face, and mentally cursed.

With that taken care of, you could focus on fixing your bloody situation so you could get to the palace (sort of) on time.

You waited until Bucky was out of sight and sprinted across the street, toward the recently opened Wakandan aid center. When you entered the lobby, you greeted the staff and walked to the receptionist’s desk.

Amare was the woman who assisted you every time you came to meet king T’Challa or the ambassador, so you didn’t hesitate to ask her for a tampon, a pad, whatever she had at hand, really.

She handed you a tampon and you rushed to the restroom. Once out, you glanced out the window to make sure the coast was clear. After thanking her and saying goodbye, you went toward the subway station. Your hand flew to your jean’s back pocket and, by heart, you dialed your prime minister’s number.

“I assume you're running late.” His voice was tired; no, calm, yet aggravated.

"Hey, Bruce," you sang, trying to lighten the mood.

"Y/N.”

His voice was still cold, but softer. You sighed and went straight to the point. Bruce was one of the most patient and understanding people you Knew, but you didn’t wanna push him too far. He was known for having quite a thin temper, which you had personally experienced only two times and wanted to keep it that way.

“Please, could you entertain Prince James and his people?, just for a bit,” you were panting, jogging down the stairs. “I’m begging you, I just had a little problem.”

“Of course I'll help you," he sighed. “Just make sure you get here before they leave.”

“So, so funny," you rolled your eyes. “See you at twenty.”

He coughed, “ten.”

He already knew there was no hope of you arriving on time. This was a frequent conversation between the two of you; whether it was for an official matter, or whatever else that required your presence.

As soon as the phone call ended, your train arrived. You opted for standing up, wanting to avoid leaving a crime scene on the plastic seat; your hand grabbed the pole, and your left foot bounced restlessly. Practically jumping out of the train, you sprinted to the palace and straight to your room.

Shower, tampon, dress, makeup, hair, and you were out the door, with your shoes in your hand. Heels could wait.

Record time, you thought, falling limp on one of the chairs outside the throne room; proceeding to put your stilettos on and fix other minor details.

While you were at it, Pietro, who was leaning against the doorway, made his presence known. “You know, something tells me there’s a story that I’d like to hear”.

“You literally shadowed me the whole way home, Piet, you got first row seats for the entire thing.” You glanced at his navy blue suit through your makeup mirror, as you fixed your lipstick.

He loosened his tie a little bit. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t listening,” he claimed.

You rolled your eyes. "Of course you weren't.”

“How nosy do you think I am?”

“Very.”

He protested weakly but you gave it no mind, your heart was pounding and your hands were shaking. You inhaled and closed them into fists, then grabbed the handle of the door.

You were about to open it, then you stopped. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Pietro grabbed your arms and gently rubbed up and down. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“What if it’s not,” you mumbled.

“You have nothing to worry about.” He turned you around so he could face you. "If he doesn't like you, I'm sure he'll change his mind in no time; I mean, look at you. And, if he ever tries to hurt you or take over your throne, you know I'll kill him, remember that."

You hugged him tightly. "Thanks," you whispered into his shoulder.

At first, you opened the door just enough for your voice to be heard, so your name could be announced.

“In comes her royal majesty, Queen Y/N from the house of Y/L/N; and Lieutenant Pietro Maximoff, commander of the Royal Guard and of her majesty's personal escort.”

That's when you stepped into the throne room.

Requests open!

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the-bounce-back · 4 years

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THE “WRITING CURE” - 3 TYPES OF JOURNALING TO IMPROVE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH

Happy New Year, guys!

Yes, it is far too late to say that… but it’s my first post of 2021 and I’ve been procrastinating hella... so please kindly cry elsewhere if this is an issue. Thanks in advance!

I hope that everyone has had a fantastic start to the year despite the fact that we’re going to be held hostage in our own homes for at least another four months.

After giving myself time to throw a fit and and a little (massive and unnecessarily dramatic) strop after hearing the news about the new lockdown and calming down a bit, I started to contemplate how different it is this time around, for better or worse. Worse in the sense that it is a) the middle of f*cking winter so we can’t even enjoy being outside and have socially distanced pIcNiCs, and b) because it literally came out of nowhere so there was zero chance to mentally prepare for it. I literally woke up from a nap, checked socials and found out that we were suddenly on lockdown… Do you realise how mad that is?

Luckily, there are some silver linings with this lockdown that I brutally force myself to focus on so I don’t lose my sh*t. One thing is that most of us probably know by now how to keep some kind of structure to our days this time - because as much as binging trash tv, being horizontal for 75% of the day, eating, chatting shit on facetime for an obscene amount of hours, bunning and going to bed at 8 am was all fun and games the first time around, chances are that you realised pretty soon that your life was literally just wasting away and you have nothing to show for it… besides bedsores, losing all muscle definition and a migraine, that is. Yes, being lazy and unproductive is needed sometimes, but eventually you’re literally gagging for something to do - and this time around you probably have something creative or work-related to do that can keep your mind preoccupied.

Additionally, this lockdown comes hand in hand with the rollout of the vaccine, meaning that the end of this nonsense is coming closer and closer. Regardless of if you’re planning on taking it or not, it still means that the emotions that are a result of isolation and lack of social interaction won’t last forever - which, for me at least, is great news and makes things feel a lot less hopeless.

However, as much as focusing on the pOsItIvEs is imperative during times like these, it’s equally as important to acknowledge and feel your feelings. This whole situation f*cking sucks, let’s be real. We miss our families, we miss our friends, we miss going out, we miss going to the gym/having the option to go to the gym and making excuses not to. We miss our old lives, and the realisation that it is going to be what feels like eons until we can get back to that is bound to get people in their feelings from time to time… or all the time. I often find myself forcing myself to stay productive and creative, only to have the thought “What’s even the point?” attack me out of nowhere, and it really kills my vibe - because sometimes I can’t even think of a decent answer.

It’s dangerously easy to fall into a slump under these circumstances, regardless of how resilient and strong you feel that you are. Forcing yourself to find structure, purpose, inspiration and motivation during this time may be extremely important, but mate... it is exhausting. There’s only so much mental energy you can use to be ray of f*cking sunshine, and once that energy runs out, replenishing it is a huge task since you can’t even do the things you usually do to feel rejuvenated - because outside is locked off.

Ok, so I’m definitely projecting. But I know that a lot of people can relate to these occasional feelings of hopelessness.

This is where I’d usually remind you that these feelings are tEmPoRaRy and will pass, but I’m not going to do that because you’re probably sick of hearing it by now. Instead, I’m going to reintroduce you all to a coping method that you’ve all probably come across in your lives already - journaling.

As in, journaling with intent. I’m personally not very big on the whole “dEaR DiArY” thing where you just whine and b*tch and complain about people/yourself (but to each their own I guess), but I’m talking about writing about topics designed to aid your healing and to help you see the bigger picture of your mental health, and life in general.

I wrote a post a couple years ago about alternatives to therapy for those that aren’t keen on talking to a stranger about their problems (if you missed it, read it here), so I thought that this post could be an elaboration on that. Seeing as a lot of us may feel disconnected and isolated from our family and friends at this moment, getting into writing about your current mindstate, emotions and worries is definitely a healthy outlet that I would recommend to anyone that doesn’t want to bottle things up, but don’t feel like they have much choice.

“But Liv! I don’t have time to write endless pages about my feelings because I’m ~*extremely busy*~!”

I thought you might say that. First of all - extremely busy during a lockdown? Stop the lies please. Secondly, I’ve found that journaling is very much like going to the gym - once you’re into it and see the benefit of it you gladly set time aside to do it. However, if you view it as a gruelling chore that you’d less rather do than all the dishes currently in your sink, it’s very easy to come up with excuses to not do it. To be fair it isn’t for everyone, so if you try it and hate it it’s not the end of the world.

“Ok, you got me. I don’t want to do it because writing is LoNg”

I think what puts people off journaling has to do with the image that pops into their head. To this day I still imagine Elle Woods writing in a pink fluffy diary with a pink fluffy pen on her bed and kicking her feet in the air - which may be appealing to some (me), but cringe to other (uncultured) people. But journaling doesn’t have to be done on fancy stationary - you can literally do it in a word doc in bullet point form, or even record voice memos if writing is sOoOo LoNg. The idea is that you should find a method that works for you, doesn’t feel like a burden and that you can incorporate into your routine.

With that being said, I know a lot of people reading this will still think of excuses to not do it, so let me just focus on those that are open minded enough to try something new chile. I’ll be covering my three favourite journaling “methods”, that have helped me stay sane, motivated and in touch with myself. They are very much focused on emotional, spiritual and mental growth, and will encourage you to think outside of the box when it comes to your mindset and attitude towards challenges that may (will) arise.

What’s important to remember is that what works for me may not work for or resonate with you in the same way, so I definitely encourage further research into journaling/journal prompts that are tailored to your needs. Let’s get it!

1. Gratitude journals.

To say that a gratitude journal - as far as journaling goes, at least - is imperative for your mental health during times like these is definitely the understatement of the century. When you wake up and find yourself still being held hostage, that your body is still in an absolute shambles despite all the useless hOmE wOrKoUtS you’re doing AND on top of everything it’s f*cking snowing, learning to see things to be grateful for amidst all the stress and frustration might seem like a very difficult task. Especially when you feel like setting the whole building on fire.

However, trust me when I say that taking a few moments each day to appreciate the little things that are getting you through it all will make you realise that things could actually be a whole lot worse, giving you a slight boost in your mood and outlook - because imagine how you’d feel if the thing/person you’re grateful for wasn’t there to help you through what can be a really sh*tty time?

On top of just feeling better about this situation on a day-to-day basis, keeping a gratitude journal can also help you keep yourself grounded, present, self aware of what matters to you and just more mindful about life in general. When there’s not a whole lot of options of things to do, it can be very easy to fall into thought patterns of either wishing time would speed up so the future can come, or reminiscing on better and happier times in the past. I wouldn’t necessarily say that there is anything wrong with this from time to time, but it’s important to remember that life is still passing you by. On top of that, considering what made a kind of crap day bearable will help you realise that many of what we consider to be “bad days” are oftentimes a direct result of a negative attitude. Yes, I am projecting with this one.

With that being said, some days are genuinely just unfathomably horrible for seemingly no justifiable reason whatsoever - regardless of if you woke up feeling like a ray of sunshine or not. Again, even when bad moods aren’t a direct result of your stank attitude, practising gratitude can give you the motivation and kick in the arse you need to just ride the day out and remember that nothing that happens is permanent or unfixable.

Then, of course, there are the days when everything just feels like a burden - including thinking about positive things. Sometimes slumps just dropkick us in the throat out of nowhere, and it’s okay to take some time to allow yourself to be pissed off, sad and depressed. Obviously everyone has their own preferred method of riding out these slumps (my personal favourite is wallowing in it until I realise that I need to get a f*cking grip), but I definitely recommend trying to find something small you’re grateful for to remind yourself that it will pass, as this knowledge can make heavy emotions slightly lighter.

In terms of frequency, it really is down to the individual. I’m lazy in the sense that I don’t want to write every day, so at the end of each week I just write about three things that made things a whole lot easier and that prevented me from wilding the f*ck out. And in terms of what you put in the journal, the sky is literally the limit. It can literally be anything that has contributed to you keeping your sanity; last week it was katsu nuggets, the neosoul playlist I came across on Spotify and the fact that I was finally able to switch from a nose stud to a nose ring that made me feel grateful. So, in other words… don’t worry about it having to be profound or meaningful in any way.

2. Positive affirmations.

I’m going to go ahead and assume that you don’t live under a rock and that you understand the meaning of the saying that words carry energy and power, and the concept of speaking things into existence. When I first read about how the words we speak to ourselves and others can transform our internal states on a deep and profound level… all I could think about was how f*cked I am, as I literally only communicate in sarcasm, and brutal drags and insults are my love languages. In my defence, my sarcasm is a coping mechanism that has completely gone off the rails - but that’s a post for another day. The point I’m trying to make is that words have extreme power, and can, when repeated often enough, alter your attitude, perception and feelings about yourself, your goals in life and your current situation - for better or for worse.

So... technically we shouldn’t even be engaging in any kind of self-deprecating humor - because our brain doesn’t actually know the difference between seriousness and sarcasm/bants. All it knows is taking words at face value. BIG yikes.

With that being said, affirmations are powerful and positive statements that aim to direct your conscious and subconscious mind, as well as challenge unhealthy, negative and self-deprecating thinking patterns you might currently be engaging in. They can also influence your subconscious mind to access new beliefs - hence why saying them out loud and with intent on a regular basis is considered crucial for them to actually work. By intent I basically mean speaking your affirmations with conviction, like they are already true - regardless of how far away from them being true you may feel that you are.

In terms of writing positive affirmations that genuinely work, there are many different formats and methods out there that can be adjusted to the individual. I personally utilise a 3 step method that has been working well-ish for me so far - it’s still early days, but it’s definitely a positive habit that I’m trying my best to continue. The 3 steps are as follows:

1, Listing your perceived negative features.

Notice how I say “perceived negative features” as opposed to just “negative features”. This is important because more often than not, the things we are insecure about or don’t like about ourselves are only truly noticeable to us.

These features can literally be anything negative that has stuck with you over the years, regardless of if it’s a product of your own conclusions/internal critic or criticism/negative feedback from an external source. Usually they focus on your perception of yourself as a person, how you cope with life or the current situation you are in (e.g. home-/work-life, relationships etc).

The purpose of writing down things you don’t like about yourself isn’t to make you feel like sh*t, I promise. It’s to help you identify recurring themes in your insecurities, and to help you understand where these perceptions even came from in the first place.

2. Rephrasing your perceived negative features as a positive affirmation.

In this step, the aim is to find positive antonyms to the negative features you have listed. It’s important that the words you choose carry weight and resonate with you on an emotional level, while also feeling believable and attainable to you. This, because if you’re anything like me you’ll feel like you’re just lying to yourself if the affirmation is too over the top… which kind of defeats the purpose.

For clarity, here are a few of my perceived negative features (in the past), what they allude to and the affirmations I wrote for them:

- I worry too much about what other people will think about what I do, what I say, choices I make etc (fear of not being accepted/being talked about negatively) —> “I am feeling more empowered and self-assured as I release the need to care about others’ opinions”

- I’m too naive and keep letting people that don’t have my best interest at heart take advantage of my kindness (fear of disappointing people, fear of abandonment) —> “I am a kind, empathetic, loving person, and I am not at fault for showing kindness to people that didn’t deserve it”

- I hate the way my body is built and I constantly feel unattractive (low self esteem/confidence, body dysmorphia) —> “my body is beautiful, built exactly as it was meant to be, does all it can to ensure that I am strong and healthy and is immune to both internal and external criticism”.

3. Repeating your affirmations regularly.

This is where the ~*magic*~ happens. Yes, I am aware that telling yourself that you are that b*tch while looking into your own eyes in the mirror sounds very cringe and very coming-of-age-Netflix-original-for-tweens like. I can’t lie, it was in the beginning and I felt absolutely ridiculous… especially because a lot of my affirmations didn’t reflect how I felt about myself at the time. But as you incorporate repeating your affirmations into your daily routine, you’ll eventually start to feel a shift in your mindset towards yourself. The words you speak begin to chip away at the self-doubt and self-hate that you’ve built up over the course of your life, and you feel like you actually are stating facts instead of just trying to convince yourself.

Besides forcing myself to speak my affirmations out loud on a daily basis - regardless of how I’m feeling - I also make an effort to review them every couple of weeks to make sure that they are still relevant to how I feel about myself. Ideally, over time you’ll realise that the affirmations you made in the past confirm what you have always known deep down - that you are more than enough exactly as you are.

3. Shadow work.

Ok, so this sounds very dramatic, scary and ominous - and can’t lie, it can be if you allow yourself to be afraid of facing certain parts of yourself. In very brief terms, shadow work refers to the uncovering, processing and healing of different aspects of our “shadow” - which is essentially all the thoughts, emotions and behaviours we suppress and hide away in order to be perceived as “normal” by others around us. This might not seem like a problem, but the issue here is that the concept of “normality” and what is considered to be “normal” is in itself deeply rooted in the individuals past experiences, and especially childhood. For example, a person that grew up in an environment where expressing emotions and vulnerability/sensitivity was seen as a weakness may have problems with expressing their emotions as adults - since they have been conditioned to believe that emotions are a weakness, and are meant to be hidden away in order to be accepted.

As you can probably imagine, going through life with these false truths ingrained in your mind have a tendency to eventually come to the surface in some way in the future. Constantly feeling like you are restraining certain parts of yourself - regardless of if you’re aware of this or not - can manifest as issues such as mental and physical illness, feelings of low self-worth/esteem, addictions and many others issues that affect our life quality severely. These repressed aspects of ourselves are referred to as our “shadow selves”, and if we don’t “bring light” to the shadow - i.e. face the qualities we have that we have held back for so long - it can truly hold us back from reaching our full potential in life.

With that being said, shadow work encourages you to force yourself out of denial about certain aspects of yourself, accepting it, and working on unpacking and bettering those aspects without judgment from your ego. I personally struggled a lot in the beginning of my shadow work jOuRnEy because it was infinitely easier to think of myself as a victim of others doings, rather than a combination of other people’s actions and how my ego and shadow self chose to react… if that makes any sense. I used to hate doing shadow work, because I felt so ashamed and angry at myself for allowing my ego to be distorted by lies and other peoples’ projections for so long.

However, when these feelings arise and you feel like quitting - because WHY should healing be so f*cking painful - it’s actually a sign that you are headed in the right direction. Messed up, I know. But over time, you’ll become so used to sitting with your negative feelings towards yourself that they don’t even really phase you anymore, and you can admit that your shadow self and ego has caused you to form unhealthy habits and thinking patterns that can be detrimental to your mental health. Over time, you’ll develop a great sense of self awareness and self compassion, as well as great psychological, emotional and interpersonal maturity.

Trust me. Being able to admit and accept that you are flawed without being harsh on or hating yourself is a BIG flex, and makes you unf*ckwittable. I actually dare someone to come and drag me for something I haven’t already dragged and forgiven myself for, because I haven’t had a good laugh in a while.

So, the bottom line with shadow work isn’t to bring light to your flaws to feel like shit about yourself (although you definitely will). The point is to bring said flaws to the surface, understand where they stem from, consider why and how it has affected you, and becoming aware of your triggers. Setting time aside a certain time each week to do this work and understand yourself on a deeper level gives you power over your ego, shadow self and triggers, because doing the work helps you see and understand that they don’t really have power over you unless you let them.

In terms of format, I really just do whatever feels right when it’s shadow work o’clock. If I’ve had a particularly sh*tty week and can assign the blame to one of my shadow aspects, I literally just freestyle and write whatever comes to mind (my journal has SUFFERED this lockdown, honey). If nothing comes to mind, I like to make use of journal prompts that are designed to get you thinking and reflecting. I literally just get them online because I’m lazy, but here are some good ones to get you started:

- How judged do you feel on a daily basis? How much of said judgement is real and how much is imagined?

- What does it feel like to have your emotions belittled and downplayed?

- What has fear held you back from? Do you blame yourself or others?

- In what ways are you inauthentic?

As you can see, these prompts do not f*ck about. They’re going to get you in your feelings, make you feel weak and vulnerable and cry like a little b*tch, if you’re anything like me - not that there’s anything wrong with that! But the best part is that once you’ve finished writing, sat with all your negative emotions, accepted them and decided you are ready to move forward and heal, your triggers become less and less powerful - until the day comes when they’ve dissolved completely.

So, there you have it - three tools to help maximise your inner connection to your mental, physical, spiritual and overall wellbeing. As previously mentioned, there are tonnes more different journaling methods that can trigger a positive change in your mental health, and I definitely recommend looking into this and trying them out… wHeN yOu HaVe ThE tImE.

On that note, I want to reiterate that journaling shouldn’t be feeling like a time-consuming burden that you have to put a gun to your head to do every time - because brutally forcing yourself to do it is just going to make you feel sh*tty when you don’t/can’t/won’t follow through. It’s all about finding a time during the day, week or month (whatever frequency is best for you) that you set aside to really get in touch with and sit with your feelings. At the end of the day, it truly is a commitment that you make to yourself - and only you can decide how seriously you want to take this commitment. I will say this though - being inconsistent, procrastinating, skipping or making excuses to not do it only leads to distrust of the self. And If you can’t show up for yourself, how can you expect others to show up for you?

Check me out, leaving you all with food for thought and sh*t (and like I haven’t been ignoring the deadlines I’ve been setting for myself for weeks. Hypocrisy is and always will be my favourite pastime!). It’s giving Eckhart Tolle and I love it. The bottom line is that journaling can be a very powerful tool in your healing process, and it’s up to you to make it work for you.

Until next time!

Love,

Liv

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