#I am extremely sleep deprived I have not slept good in like 3 days and I haven't seen the sun in like 4 days (overcast weather)

[solradguy]

I don't know what the deal is with this "tumblr sexyman" discourse lately because the only tumblr sexyman I need is fire-wheel mk-ii

[mgc02]

Sleeping Together

Platonic!Lucifer x fennec fox Reader, slight platonic! Angel Dust x reader at the end. Let me know If you want part 2 I have some cool ideas for more

Cw: awkward situations ig, I'm aroace so I like unconventional platonic relationships, some swearing and suggestiveness from Angel

Being a small fennec fox demon wasn't easy. You were known for your small size and cuteness. So you were often seen as easy prey. But you also were so cute and incredibly soft that many couldn't resist touching you. You were used to it to some degree. But for some reason you still didn't see this coming.

It was the middle of the night and you had snuck out of your room and crept through the hotel to grab yourself a midnight snack. You were startled by the sound of someone entering the kitchen and discovered it was Lucifer (looking incredibly sleep deprived). You apologized immediately. "Oh sorry I was just grabbing a snack" you explained. "Sometimes I get cravings at night. I woke up a couple times tonight and couldn't get food off my mind maybe cause-" you stopped after realizing that not only was Lucifer not listening but he was staring at you like he was in a sleepy trance.

Not quite aware of what he was doing he kneeled down a bit and reached his hand towards you. He began petting you on the head and behind the ears. You at first were frozen unable to think of what to do before you melted at the touch of being petted. It was a weakness of yours. Before you knew it he had you in his arms carrying you off while scratching behind your ear. He took you into his room and petted you on his bed. He could not stop yawning. You were too comfortable to question what was going on and Lucifer was too tired and distracted to realize what he was doing

You woke up cozily tucked into Lucifer's arms before memories came flooding back and you tried to wiggle free. Lucifer woke up with a moan and noticed his hold on you before releasing you in a panic. "OHHHhhh. My gosh! I'm so sorry... this is-this is weird. I've never done this before" he was extremely apologetic and embarrassed. You calmed yourself and even though it was awkward quickly realized he was being genuine. "It's alright. Let's-let's just try and pretend this never happened" you said trying to make it less awkward. "Yes. Well um... yeah that's probably for the best"

Though you guys acted weird around each other all day it seemed like it was gonna stay in the past. That is until you got a knock at your door at 3 am. You opened it to see Lucifer with bags under his eyes with a nervous expression. "Hi, I hope I didn't wake you..." Lucifer began cautiously. "Whats going on?" You asked. "Look, i know we said we'd pretend like it never happened but I actually have never slept that good in my life. I... I don't sleep the greatest. Especially not since Lilith left. I tried really hard to put it outta mind tonight but I couldn't help it. I was wondering if... if..." He fumbled and turned red with embarrassment and you of course caught on to what he was trying to ask

"A sleepover every now and then couldn't hurt" you agreed careful with your wording as to not make either of you more uncomfortable. "But, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. No hanky panky, no dinner dates" you spoke clearly and strictly. "Wouldn't dream of it. Sooo... platonic?" He responded. "Platonic" you confirmed.

"Also, let's keep this between you and me" you stated. You didn't want people at the hotel (Angel) cracking jokes and you didn't want them to get the wrong idea either. It was something better kept private you thought. Lucifer nodded "of course"

That night led to many others. You and Lucifer spent so many nights together that you started to develop a strong bond. It was an odd relationship but you were grateful for it. That was until one glorious morning you awoke bright and early (as you usually did to avoid suspicion) and you crept out of Lucifer's room so you could head back to your own but as you closed Lucifer's door behind you heard a certain someone catch you in act.

"Wow, never thought you and the big dick in charge would be a thing" Angel grinned as you sighed and turned around to face him. "So how long you two been getting frisky? Man the broads are gonna flip" you wanted to slap him but unfortunately you couldn't reach. "It's not like that" you tried to explain. "Oh please, you sneaking out of his room early in the morning in your jammies? You think I'm fuckinh dense?" He questioned and you let out a heavy sigh realizing you had to tell him the truth or things would get very awkward soon.

You relayed the whole thing onto him. You hoped he would believe you. You knew this was definitely unconventional so you weren't sure. Finally you finished telling him what was going on and how it happened. "Soo... you guys just been sleeping together bit ACTUALLY sleeping?" He sounded surprised but it seemed like he believe you. "Yes" you answered with relief. "...All because you're like... this magical cure for insomnia?" He sounded a bit off when he asked that and you weren't sure why. "Yeah I guess... I don't know..."

"Can I give it a try?"

[carronpatrick]

I had 4 hours of sleep in the past 3 days... And now that Trooper is gone, I just. I'm so scared to even try to sleep.

I haven't slept alone since I was like, 12. Which, I haven't slept since Trooper died 14 hours ago despite being so utterly destroyed I can barely keep my mind working... But either a dog or boyfriend or friend sleepovers or on my parent's floor... I don't know how to sleep alone without night terrors and fitful dozing of 15 minutes here, 10 there.

And I don't even give a flying fuck if whoever reads this thinks I'm being dramatic. I'm not. I had this puppy since he was 7 weeks old, being sold as a 'defect' because he had a curly-q tail, and we were together through an extremely abusive relationship, a car accident, someone stalking and threatening to kill me, my shitty ass family and exfriends dramas, the death of my dad and Jake and our 2 eldest dogs, 5 different diseases between us two, my mom's brain surgery, and every time my depression got almost unbearable where I literally begged God to let me die... I kept going purely because he needed me.

He slept in my arms from night one. There were 3 nights in his 9 year life where I wasn't home and that was to take care of my mother in Nashville and my dad watched him and sent me hourly pupdates. I didn't sleep until I almost passed out whole driving us home and even then I was in my mom's room.

I feel absolutely empty and hollowed and dead. Just still have the horrific pain which is how I know I'm still alive. I manage to stop sobbing and having a panic attack where I can't breathe and then I just... Look around and I see him everywhere. His water bowl by the bed, his babies on it, his hair clippers in the bathroom, his medicine downstairs, his numerous beds and toys and his treats and his little hoodie and his damn fur from when I trimmed him literally right before his became comatose on our bed... I have his collar on me constantly, which I bought before I even knew he was the best boy for me...

I am just so utterly alone. Everyone I love leaves or dies or lives hundreds of miles away and I genuinely don't know what I did in a past life to either piss off the universe or for God to think I can just handle all of these struggles... But I'm so sorry for whatever I did, I am. I need just.... One bit of good, of sunshine in this fucking hurricane.

I had to set up 2 night lights just so I can try to maybe sleep if I can finally pass out from deprivation and exhaustion from crying almost the entire past 14 hours. My skin is raw, my eyes are swollen and red, my nose and sinuses are stopped up to where I popped my left ear when swallowing mid-episode, I got maybe 6 bites of food in because I am so so sick to my stomach, I have a fever and chills, I have marks where I dug nails into my arms and legs and a bruise on my forehead and chest where I pounded repeatedly in a feeble attempt to stay sane and alive and grounded and I still can't fucking sleep.

I lay on my left and I expect to see him there, whining to go under the covers and cuddle with me... Lay on my right and expect to feel him curl into my back and scooch me to the side more and more... Lay on my back and expect to feel him at my head, curled around it like he did since he was a baby.

I doubt anyone is still reading and I'm just fucking sobbing writing it but. It's 330a and it's not like I can fucking sleep. I want my baby, I want my daddy, I want my honey... I want to dissociate or just snap and not feel a fucking thing thing until I can successfully shove all of this pain and sadness and misery into my compartmentalizing brain boxes and not take bits out until I can handle them.

Hopefully my medicines kick my ass and I just.... Sleep with zero dreams or terrors for the next day or week or, idk. I can't even talk about what exactly happened to him because it was too similar to my dad's death and I genuinely am traumatized because I was just finally easing my ptsd from dad and now have it from my baby boy, my son, my soul... I probably am making zero sense.

Hug your loved ones, anyone actually reading this... Hug them and tell them you love them every chance you get. Say it over and over - it doesn't cheapen it. Not if you mean it. Whether your loved one is a fur baby or a human, related or a friend or whatever... fucking love them and let them know it every second you can because anyone can get taken from you in a moment. And you'll be left cursing every millisecond of wasted time.

[soildmud]

yalllll my gf just bought me bg3 today and i was so excited because its been on my wishlist for like ever and stuff so as soon as it allowed me to i started installing/downloading it—IT TOOK THREE FUCKING HOURS!!!!!! BECAUSE I’M POOR AND CAN’T GET SHIT TO OPTIMISE DOWNLOAD TIMES!!!!!!

but the worst part of it all….IT WON’T OPEN. it stopped responding every time i tried to open it up (i’m a mac user so i am already at a disadvantage) so i desperately look online as to what i have to do and according to steam i have to Verify File Integrity which i thought they were supposed to do after everything downloads, hence why it took 3 hours, because it took an extra hour to verify everything—but apparently there might be a file corruption or something idk i’m just a girl i know nothing about these things. BUT GET THIS: THE FILE VERIFICATION IS GOING TAKE OVER 24 HOURS TO COMPLETE. oh my god. why did i choose to quit my job and not save for a Real computer. why did i not ask for that for christmas. (no one had the money to buy one, that’s why—which is fine, i have never asked for anything expensive for christmas) WHY DID I HAVE TO GET ATTACHED TO BIG HUMONGOUS FUCKING GAMES THAT KILL MY LAPTOP!!!!!!!!!

i am usually a patient person yknow. i have willingly gone on 3 day nonstop car rides with my family of mentally unwell and untreated people. i have gone through almost 12 years of american public education without ever asking for accommodations to my crippling mental illnesses or deteriorating health. i have done hour long layovers while sick from anxiety and stress in airports full of stressful stimuli. i have gone thru a lot. but this was the straw that broke the camel’s back i think. as soon as i saw the number fluctuate between 22 to 1D 8hrs i just about cried. i felt defeated. i nearly threw a tantrum like a toddler because of this. i wanted to start pulling my hair out of my head and furiously scratch my skin until it bled out of pure and unbridled rage and frustration. (i am probably autistic and i think someone told me this could be a meltdown???) but i only merely grabbed my hair very harshly and started hyperventilating for a couple minutes before i sat down on my bed and started doing eye makeup. why??? idk.

all this is to say i am not happy with BG3 right now, even though the issue is not all with the game, but the fact that i am attempting to play it on a heavily aged macbook air that definitely was not made for playing anything above coolmathgames.com. my spring break is nearly over. i have like three days left. i just want to enjoy my freedom a little longer by making my little OC in this game and then putting them through The Horrors. i will update you all later, it is now 4:08AM and i have not slept for almost 24 hours. i feel sick to my stomach and my head hurts, but i think it’s because i made the foolish mistake of drinking about 20oz of coffee (which didn’t even taste good btw, because i had to make the coffee with a creamer that Wasnt my beloved oat milk creamer—i cannot enjoy my coffee if it is not made with the oat milk creamer. nothing else will suffice.) and then proceeded to make four different rainbow loom bracelets (i just bought the monstertail loom after debating whether or not i should) in rapid succession without breaks. i also watched eight episodes (maybe more) of the watcher podcast, because the coffee gave me extreme anxiety to the point where i had to carry scissors with me every time i left my bedroom because i was convinced there was someone in my apartment (but what would scissors have done??? i am incredibly out of shape and have never even fought another human being physically since i was under the age of 10) and the scissors were the only thing that would make me feel safer. and my phone in case i could hide and call 911.

sorry for the brain dump i am just incredibly sleep deprived and am waiting for my wife’s return from work—which should be soon! which means i’ll be okay and no longer anxious or stressed. SEE YOU LATER GUYS MIGHT DELETE THIS BUT IDK !!!!! SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON MY DOWNWARD SPIRAL!!!!!!!

[duhhhhimstypidyall-blog]

Spiraling (Vent/Brain Dump)

TW: mental breakdown, spiraling, ranting, ect.

 !PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD HEADSPACE!

The concept of time is really fucked when you are experiencing severe dissociation episodes. My entire life I’ve lacked a general awarness of time and don’t seem to have a reliable internal clock like some others. Everything I experience seems to be in polar extremes. Time either moves so painfully slow that it seems like a day will never end or so fast that it seems like I blink and a week has passed. It is even more complicated when it seems to have both characteristics simultaneously even though from a logical stand point it should not be possible. I’m assuming that is why it is so hard for me to comprehend. When I was a kid, all the super exciting things in life always sped by while undesireable experiences seemed to slow everything down. Now it has nothing to do with the surrounding circumstances. Each day I live makes less and less sense to me. The funny thing is every once and a while I will go a few weeks or maybe even a month without giving this whole ordeal a single thought, but it always creeps back in and its been getting alarmingly worse upon each return. Throw sleep deprivation, an eating disorder, and isolation into the mix and I am left with an ugly cocktail of a spiraling psychotic breakdown. One thing people always have to say to someone in a rough mental health patch is that you will get through this and move past it. Although I am not necesarily disagreeing with this statement, it is not giving me any sort of hope, which I am assuming is supposed to be the outcome of the statement. It does not provide hope because even though I always somehow get out of these episodes, I never remember them once thier over. That also means being in it right now, I don’t have a known way of getting out of it because I don’t remember what I did last time to get out. I am not sure that made much sense but thats besides the point. It is so strange to be in this state. I am here enough to know that I am not here which is ironic because again, that contradicts itself. I would compare it as sort of going on autopilot, I am reluctantly getting out of my desk chair and going to work but I could not tell you any of the conversations that I had or even what events from the shifts were on which particular day of the week. I am just all around delirous and checked the fuck out. I am starting to get frustrated again with feeling stuck in a loop with no progress being made and it feels pointless. I know I have so much more to say but I keep zoning out and staring at what I know are my fingers on the keyboard but they sure do not seem entirely connected to me right now. They just look slightly off, its that feeling you get when you see the pictures of those liminal spaces and factually there is nothing immediatly concerning about the photos but you get this gut feeling that there is something off behind the scenes. I must have punched my car again at some point recently because I have nasty bruises on my hand again. If I am being honest I haven’t slept in 2 days and I cannot remember the last time I ate. I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye that are most likely not even there and hearing shit I can assume is not real either. I just wish I did not have to go through this alone. I am a complete looser and a failure, I am in my early 20′s and have NO friends, I live by myself and am only close with my sister out of the family who is unfortunately 3 hours away from me. We are in contact daily over the phone and on social media due to our shared interests but it is not the same as having someone physically in your presence to bring you back down to earth a little bit. I really need a fucking hug, I am so touch starved that if someone were to genuinely embrace me I just know I would immediately burst into tears and hyperventilate through my violent sobbing. I know I am supposed to deserve to be loved and have friends but its hard to believe that when I have nothing to prove otherwise. If I deserved friendship and love wouldn’t I have it? Some of the nastiest and cruel people in the world are allowed those luxuries so why the fuck am I the one that gets it taken away from me. I don’t have anyone to tell my jokes too. I have nobody to play video games with. I have nobody to share my newest plot ideas with. I just want to share the human experience with at least one other person like the rest of the world gets to. It is not fair. I have not done anything in my life that would constitute a punishment as cruel as this. Recently I have been listening to the song Karma by AJR and I feel like it really captures the way I feel about the whole thing. Especially the line, “the universe works in mysterious ways but I’m starting to think it ain’t working for me”. It confuses me because in an abstract way the human experience is following the rules laid out by the universe and in turn recieving either good or bad things based on your compliance. It just seems like I am being expected to follow an entirely different set of rules and rewards but I have no idea what they are and noone will tell me what they are. I come to the universe asking questions because it is just the way that things are supposed to be and thats just how it works, but for some reason I am met with notions of “well not for you though” with no further explainations. What am I doing this for? I do not belong in this timeline, I feel like I got misplaced on accident and that this is not the lifetime that I am supposed to be navigating but I am trapped here until the end of humanity.  

[passingdaysthings]

01.04.2023 - Sleep Deprived Thoughts

Today is Wednesday.

I am currently sleep deprived because I have this cough that won’t allow me to sleep, and I haven’t had a good night of sleep in like 5 days. I can’t believe I made my first post in 2020 when I was struggling mentally and  trying to figure out my life. I am still struggling to figure out my life right now, but I think it’s easier because I am in a better place mentally. I understand that I am trying to pick a career path that won’t make me hate my life and be extremely depressed for the rest of it. I have also gotten over the thought of not being good enough for things. I should really be nicer to myself and stop judging myself so harshly. 

This year is going to be very busy. Some things coming up:

1. (Jan) My little sister is moving to Iowa for work so I need to drive her there, help her move, and then fly back. 

2. (Jan) I will be playing in a beach league in the competitive division, and this will be my first time. I am very lacking as a beach player so I am worried. 

3. (Jan) My second quarter of grad school starts tomorrow. Good luck, you got this! 

4. (Jan) I will need to be doing a lot of volleyball training because there will be a big tournament in February. 

5. (Jan) I have a job interview tomorrow at USF in the College of Nursing. This is for a research assistant position studying sleep.

6. Lunar New Year will be on Jan 22nd. It will be the year of the rabbit! 

7. (Feb) I believe the only thing I have in Feb is going to be the volleyball tournament. 

8. (Mar) I will be going to see Sik-k with Bethany in Orlando. 

9. (Mar) I will be going on my very first cruise with some close volleyball friends that I consider my family. It will be a week long, and I really hope I don’t get seasick. 

10. Nothing big planned for April and May except for some HS graduations in May.

11. (June) I believe that my sister and I will be going to Cancun with Grace sometime in June to celebrate our birthdays. 

11.5. (July) It will be my 27th birthday! It’s crazy to think that I will be 27. It will also be Taylor’s birthday, and I wonder if we will spend it together this year. I had a lot of fun hanging out last year. 

12. (Oct) This is probably going to be the biggest thing because I am planning to go to Japan with Victoria, Bethany, and Taylor.   

I am really looking forward to what is to come in 2023. Looking back at all my posts are always fun because I like to see what I was worried about and how it turned out. I am still waiting to see what happens when I meet Taylor in person though. My opinions on Taylor change all the time based on his action, and it’s really annoying sometimes. I am just so wishy-washy when it comes to him. Part of me is like, fuck it, just sleep with the dude, and the other part of me is like, why tf would you just wanna be another girl that he as slept with. I am really interested to see what will happen with our “friendship”. That reminds me, this bitch was talking to me the other day, and was said, we might need to sneak off just the 2 of us and go to a hotel. I was a little shocked because we hadn’t talked about sleep together for awhile, but it was brought up again and I agreed. He also said my friendship with Bethany was weird because we lay in the same room, but we don’t really talk to each other. IS YOU THINK THAT IS A WEIRD FRIENDSHIP THEN PLEASE EXPLAIN OUR FRIENDSHIP, SIR. WHAT BEST FRIENDS WHAT TO SLEEP TOGETHER WITHOUT HAVING FEELINGS? Maybe all of this is hard for me to process because I have never been interested in sleeping with any of my friends let alone my BEST friend, AND I am not someone who just sleeps with anyone they fine attractive. I really need to get over whatever tf it is that we have because I miss that time before August where we started talking more intimately. There is also a part of me that wished I had never said anything because I feel like that changed us too. I knew he didn’t like, but I needed to get over it so confessing was the easiest option LOL. 

Diet goals: Be 180 by June and 175 by Dev 2023. 

Well, here’s to 2023. I hope that is goes well, and I can meet my goals. I also hope I will figure out the Taylor thing so I can move on and stop thinking about it LOL. 

-P

[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine One Year Special

On this date last year, I posted the first Batfam During Quarantine post and since then this blog has become more popular than I ever thought it would be (my expectations were honestly pretty low). As a thank you for all of the love you have given me, (I legit get a dopamine rush whenever I get a notification on my phone) here is some stuff that was cut out from earlier post along with notes of why I took some of these bits out! Thank you so much for one year on this particular story, I wouldn’t be posting as much on here without you guys!!!! 

27 Minutes

Cass: I don’t think Bruce has slept.

Steph: Does Bruce even sleep anyway?

_____

Dick: I’m heading out to the store! *walks out wearing assless pants*

Bruce: *spits out his coffee* FUCK NO YOUR NOT! CHANGE THOSE PANTS!

[Note: I felt like this was a little too much effort for the possibility for a slight laugh to the point where it wouldn’t be funny.]

_____

Dick: I help him a bit. It's been so difficult acting like a grown up. I actually had to fight with Tim to get him to stop drinking so much coffee and that didn’t go well.

Barbara: What happened?

Dick: He threw a mug at me and said “Fuck you, I could stop when I want to!”

Barbara: Right, he definitely sounds like he has it under control.

[Note: Didn’t feel like this was as funny as sleep deprived Bruce.]

_____

Selina: So you and Tim seemed very coy during Dick’s meeting.

Stephanie: Yeah, Tim is awesome and everything but I don’t know if he feels how I feel. Plus he’s been a bit oblivious to everything.

Cassandra: With how much he brags about being just as smart as Bruce, you’d think he’d know.

Stephanie: Exactly!

Selina: Then again, Tim has a lot on his plate. He’s trying to help Bruce and doing patrol every night longer than he should. 

Stephanie: Good point. Last night I saw him fill 3 flask with coffee and still looked extremely tired last night when I met up with him.

Selina: Damn.

[Note: I wasn’t too happy with how I wrote the first two Batfam During Quarantine post. When I was writing “27 Minutes” I realized how I wanted the relationship between Tim and Steph to play out and I wanted it to be more subtle with my hints on them getting together in “Retirement?”. Once I finish up every story that I want to tell I plan on going back to re-write what I originally wrote down, maybe add some more stuff, but one thing I definately want to change is the subtlety of the lead up to Tim and Steph getting together. That was why this was cut.]

Training Day

Kate: Please, I’ve been training much harder than most of you guys since I was 6.

Dick: That’s debatable.

_____

Dick: *embraces Tim in his arms* Tim, once when I was Robin, I stayed up for five nights. At the time I was trying to balance being the leader of the Teen Titans, being Bruce’s ward, competing for my gymnastics team, and trying to balance high school. I became so tired that on the fifth day I started to hallucinate. It didn’t help that at the time we were facing Scarecrow and he sprayed his fear toxin everywhere. With how weak my immune system was, I failed to fight off the fear toxin and ran away from Bruce. Because Bruce didn’t want me to hurt myself so he chased me and sent me to the batmobile. Three people died because I distracted Batman. When the toxin wore off, Bruce ordered me to go to sleep. I refused and he said that I am now suspended from patrol for two weeks. After a long conversation, not only was I suspended but I finally slept.

Tim: So what’s your point?

Dick: The first one is that change is going to happen whether we like it or not. It’s not what happens that shapes who we are but how we react to the changes that occur in our lives. The world is never going to be the same after this pandemic is over, so you could either adapt, or repeat your mistakes. Second is that it’s okay to not be okay. You are not alone, you have all of us at the mansion to talk to. Third is that people are going to die, and sometimes there is nothing we can do about it. All we can do is learn from what happened to stop it from happening again. And the most important one is to sleep. I know you are under a lot of stress right now, we all are, but how can you expect to save others if you won’t take care of yourself. You need to sleep because if you don’t you’ll eventually die in the field because of the lack of sleep.

[Note: Too wordy. I lost my own attention trying to read this when I originally wrote this.]

Avatar

Jason: Sh ta ta ta ta. *presses his finger to Selina’s lips* Don’t speak, I know just what you’re sayin’, so please stop explainin’.

Selina: Really Jason? How long have you been waiting to use that one?

Jason: *breaks into a dance* All night long, all night.

Stephanie: What is going on with you Jason? 

Tim: I know right? You don’t ever listen to Lionel Richie, let alone pop music.

Jason: It’s his fault! *points at Dick* Him and his stupid playlist!

Dick: You said you liked my playlist!

Jason: I only like some of the songs on there! Everything else is trash!

Dick: *gasp* You take that back young man!

Jason: You’re not that much older than I am!

Cassandra: Guys!!! What is The Last Airbender?

Retirement?

Dick pulls up in front of the apartment that Barbara and her family lives in. He takes out his boom box and sets in a cassette tape. He sets the volume to the maximum setting. He holds the boom box over his head as Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” starts playing.

Dick: BABS!!!!

He waits out there for a few minutes until she opens up the window and leans out of it.

Barbara: You Dick!

The song ends and starts playing “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” from Aerosmith.

Dick: BABS! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! PLEASE TALK TO ME!

Neighbor 1: GO HOME!

Dick: I’M DOING THIS FOR LOVE!

Neighbor 2: LOVE IS DEAD YOU SCHMUCK!

Dick: YOU’RE HEART IS DEAD!

Neighbor 3: SHUT THE FUCK UP KID!

Jim Gordon: DICK, IT IS 5 AM! GO THE FUCK HOME!

Dick: FINE!

The next night

Dick walks up to the door to the Gordon family’s apartment. He knocks on the door and Jim opens the door.

Dick: Hey Jim, I was sorta expecting Babs to open the door.

Jim: *looks at the cards in Dick’s hands* Just take a hint kid. You’re making this harder than it needs to be.

Dick: I’m persistent, it’s part of my charm.

Jim: Whatever. *shuts the door*

A minute late Barbara opens the door.

Dick: *holding the cards*

Barbara: *arms folded* They’re facing you.

Dick: *looks down and flips the cards around* “Babs, I know I messed things up by *flips the card* not telling you Helena was staying at the *flips the card* mansion. I want you to know that you are *flips the card*

Barbara: *shuts the door on Dick*

Dick: I still have twenty-something cards left. At least finish reading them.

The next night

Dick walks out of his car carrying a blue french horn. He presses the buzzer for her place and walks back out on the grass. Barbara opens up the window again to see Dick holding the blue french horn. She then shuts the window.

Dick: So can I come in! Come on it’s a Smurf penis!

Neighbor 1: SHE SAID NO KID! GO HOME!

Two days later at the grocery store

Barbara is walking down the aisle looking for food. The music playing over the speakers as a voice replaces the music.

Dick: You’re just to good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you. You'd be like Heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. 

Barbara starts looking around the store for Dick and sees him leaning against a wall with one of the phones.

Dick: *notices Barbara and points to hear and then makes a heart with his hands* At long last, love has arrived. And I thank God I'm alive. You're just too good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you. *plays the instrumental part on his phone*

A store employee now spots Dick and heads towards him.

Dick: I love you, baby. And if it's quite alright. *struggles to keep possession of the phone* Get away, you’ll sing next. I need you baby *still fighting for the phone* To warm the lonely night. *starts climbing between the wall and the refrigerated section* I love you, baby. Trust in me when I say.

Barbara starts walking away embarrassed.

Dick: Oh, pretty baby, wait Babs, where you going? Babs? Babs? BAAABBS! LET ME ME LOVE YOUUUUU!

[Note: I felt the “How I Met Your Mother” reference would have either not been noticed or wouldn’t be as funny (if you don’t know which one I’m talking about it’s the smurf penis one) so I cut it out.]

_____

Dick: Okay, while things are a bit peaceful now, they’re not going to stay that way forever. Let’s try to plan ahead now and see if we can recruit any former members of Batman Inc. Tim, Steph, and Duke, you guys need to try and convince Luke to come out of retirement.

Duke: Can I have new partners?

Tim: Hey, Steph and I are amazing partners!

[Note: Not subtle.]

_____

Nightwing: Yeah, but as Red Robin, not Tim Drake.

Stephanie: Oh, because what you did the the other night was a total Red Robin move.

The other night

Nightwing: Hey, Spoiler, check this out! *jumps off the roof of a building* YEAH I’M FREEEEEEEE! FREE FAAALLLLLIIIN’! *fires his grappling hook across the street*

Present

Nightwing: You’re point is?

Duke: *mumbles under his breath* I need to find a new family.

_____

Nightwing: *singing as he swings* Arabella's got some interstellar-gator skin boots. And a Helter Skelter 'round her little finger and I ride it endlessly. *arrives at the apartment door and takes out his earbuds*

_____

Dick: *singing karaoke* And I won't listen to your shame. You ran away, you’re all the same. Angels lie to keep control, Ooh, my love was punished long ago, If you still care don't ever let me know, If you still care don't ever let me know!!!!

[Note: I felt like this wasn’t going to be super noticeable, especially the Slipknot one (last one). On top of that it felt like way too many song references just to say that Dick listens to a wide variety of music.]

Swear Jar

Dick: Everyone, please let us take some of your time to head down to the gym right now. The time has come to watch Jason fail a basic pommel horse routine!

Jason: Shut up!

Tim: Wooo! Let’s see Jason eat mat!

Stephanie: I don’t know what to expect but this should to be interesting!

*Everyone else walks in*

Bruce: Okay, lets see it!

Duke: I’ve seen this for the last few weeks so this could go one way or another.

Jason: All of you shut up!

Cassandra: *takes out her phone and records*

Jason: *steps up to the pommel horse and competes a whole routine and falls on his back during the dismount*

Duke: Ooofff.

Dick: *whispers to Tim* Well, your feet separated on the magyar.

Tim: You forgot to salute.

Jason: *salutes with a his middle fingers sticking out* How’s that?

Stephanie: *laughs*

Alfred: Jar, Master Jason.

Tim: Plus, your hands must be as straight as a knife.

Dick: You actually pressed into the handstand.

Jason: Are you guys seriously scoring me?

Damian: *smirks*

Tim: The loop on pommel was piked, legs were bent on you scissors.

Dick: And you didn’t stick your landing so we give you a score of...

Tim and Dick: EAT MAT!!

Bruce: *smirks a bit* Come on boys, be fair. You’re cutting him too much slack.

Dick: Yeah, his toes weren’t pointed, his butt hit the pommel.

Jason: HOW ABOUT YOU EAT SHIT!!!

Alfred: Jar!

[Note: Debated on sharing this one because this one was really just for me. Wasn’t sure if you guys would have liked it. Long way of saying Dick and Tim know gymnastics.]

_____

Tim: Hey, my mom is calling. Dick, you answer the phone.

Dick: Okay. *answers the phone* Hello, Tim isn’t here right now, would you like me to find him?

Tim’s Mom: Yes!

Dick: Okay, let me put you on hold *sings the Mii channel theme*

Dick: *taking a breath* Tim, your mom wants to talk to you. *goes back to singing*

Tim: Obviously I can’t. I’m working.

Dick: Okay, *stops singing* I’m sorry for having you on hold for so long. I can not find Tim so I would assume he is working! I am sure though he will either call you or text you at your earliest convenience. I mean his earliest convenience.

Tim’s Mom: Okay.

[Note: This actually happened but I felt that it was funnier in the moment then written down.]

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Tim: YOU DID NOT SEE ERIC CLAPTON AT THE HOTEL 3 YEARS AGO!!!

Jason: YES I DID!!!!

Tim: HOW, YOU WERE DEAD!!!!

Jason: MAGIC!!!!!

_____

Damian: *knocks on the door*

Jason: *opens the door with a box of Reese’s Puffs* What demon seed?

Damian: Give me back my Reese’s Puffs, Todd!!!

Jason: I don’t know what you’re talking about! This is my box! *finished eating the box of cereal and walks through the house towards the study*

Damian: I NEED MY CHOCOLATEY PEANUT BUTTERY CEREAL!!!! GET ME A NEW BOX!!!!!

Jason: You know how to drive, get it yourself! *moves the hands of the grandfather clock and enters the batcave*

Damian: Father won’t let me.

Jason: Boo hoo. What would you ever do. It’s not like you have a brother who will literally do anything if you give him a hug or another one who you could annoy into getting you some. 

Damian: THEY DIDN’T EAT MY REESE’S PUFFS!!!! YOU DID!!!

Jason: You have no proof that I did. *throws the box away* Now piss off! I’m going on patrol! *hops onto his motorcycle and drives to his safe house*

Jason: *opens the door*

Damian: Liar!

Jason: AHHH!!! SON OF A BITCH GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!

Damian: GET ME MY REESE’S PUFFS!!!!!

Jason: FINE!

Damian: YAY!!!

Jason: *drives to the store then to the batcave* Get off!

Damian: Thank you, Todd!!!

Jason: Go fu-

Dick: Jason! Censor yourself!!!

Jason: Whatever *drives back to his safe house and opens the door. turns on the tv and puts in Rent in the dvd player*

Jason: *sighs and sits on the couch* Finally!

_____

Damian: Before you tell me anything, Todd already told me about sex and how I’m a freak of nature because my mother didn’t want to carry me for nine months.

Bruce: JASON!!!!!!!!!

Jason: WHATEVER IT IS, I DIDN’T DO IT!!!!! UNLESS YOU HAVE PROOF THEN I STILL DIDN’T DO IT!!!!!

Thanksgiving

Dick: Smart, toit. Okay I am thankful for Nickleback. 

Tim: What the hell!

Duke: *to Bruce* Where did you go wrong?

Jim: *to Barbara* I think it’s time to let go of Dick.

Dick: Hold on, hold on. I am not thankful for Nickleback. If anything they are something I am least thankful for. It’s just what Alfred and Julia said was super serious I had to say something stupid. I’m truly thankful for this pandemic, because I feel it has brought us closer together as a family.

[Note: Not as funny as I thought it was when I thought of it.]

That is most of it. Yet again I hope you guys still enjoyed this and thank you so much for a whole year of this! I probably would have delayed more of these stories until who knows when if I didn’t know that there are people who actually read this! So thank you for a year and thank you for actually making me think of a deadline for all of this!!!!

I’m still working on a story that is going to be pretty long so it’s going to take a while before I publish that, but I have a few smaller stuff that I will try to spread out before I publish the larger one. I will also be posting a more organized version of each of these stories and post the cold open for the next story as a thank you for one whole year!!!

[lancermylove]

Sleep? What’s That? (HC)

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: Victor x Reader, Gavin x Reader, Kiro x Reader, Lucien x Reader,

Warning: Gavin’s hc gets a little suggestive. 

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello!! Can I request an MLQC headcannon with an MC whose like “haha, sleep? Never heard of it” because she’s working at the company, and helping out other people? Maybe fluff? Haha- I think it’s quite fitting because of your name- be as creative as you like and alter whatever you need to do! Thanks in advance ✨

A/N: Hi! I wasn’t sure which guys you wanted, so I picked the main 4. Haha, I just went with my blog’s name for this hc’s title. I got a bit carried away with Victor’s hc...is my bias-y showing? XD

——————————————— 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You thought someone was trying to break down your apartment door.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Picking up your pace, you flung open the door, ready to give the visitor a piece of your mind.

"Ms. Chips! Are you okay?"

You were shocked to see Kiro standing at your doorstep. He was out of breath, and small beads of sweat covered his face.

"Kiro? What are you doing here?" You stepped aside to let him into your home.

"Savin told me that he saw Willow's post about you not sleeping enough! I rushed here as soon as I could."

You watched your boyfriend place a few bags on your coffee table before plopping onto the sofa.

"Kiro, what's all this?" You couldn't help but wonder why he was carrying so many bags.

"Well, I thought you could use a little help," he started taking the items out of the bag and placed them on the table, "so, I got some chamomile tea, melatonin gummies, a few fruits with magnesium, lavender oil, passionflower tea, a few vegetables that have glycine, and over-the-counter sleeping pills."

"Kiro, did you buy the entire grocery store?"

"Sorry, Ms.Chips, I wasn't sure which item would help you, so I just got everything." He flashed a toothy grin, causing you to laugh.

You couldn't help but hug your sweet boyfriend. "Sorry for worrying you, Kiro. I have been extremely busy with the company and helping people around town."

"Princess, you need to sleep!" Kiro placed his hand on his chin, "You know what? I have an idea."

He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Savin. "Hey~! I am going to take the rest of the day off, take care of everything, okay? Thanks!"

Just as Kiro was about to hang up, you heard Savin screaming from the other side, "KIRO! YOU HAVE A LOT OF COMMITMENTS TODAY!"

"Kiro, are you sure that was a good idea? Wait, why do you want to take the day off?"

"Savin will handle everything. Ms. Chips, let's go to bed and not wake up until tomorrow. Actually, I don't want to hear anything...we are sleeping for the rest of the day, and that's final."  

Kiro left you no choice as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you off to bed.

No getting sleep was nothing new to Victor. After all, he was the CEO of a very well known company, and on top of that, he had a reputation to maintain. 

When Victor learned that you were not getting proper sleep, he wasn't surprised. Whenever you emailed your reports, Victor made a mental note of the time. 

The first few times, Victor didn't think much when he saw 1 am, 3 am, 4:30 am. He assumed you were procrastinating, but when this became a frequent occasion, he began to worry.  

One day, you received a text from Victor asking you to come to his office asap. No excuses. 

You immediately thought that Victor was going to reprimand you for not sending in a proper report, but when you walked into his office, he seemed more worried than upset. 

"Victor, is something the matter?" 

"Yes. From now on, I want you to send in your report before 10 pm."  

You expected Victor to give you a reason, but instead, he remained silent, awaiting your reply. 

"T-That will be difficult to do." You bit down on your bottom lip, knowing well that your response was not going to go down well with your boyfriend.

"Why is that?" His face remained expressionless.

"Well, you see..." you started but decided to stop. 

"Why are you always tired?" He asked and examined your face, "Your dark circles have gotten worse, and it seems as though you've lost weight."

Victor opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a stack of paper. He looked straight into your eyes before placing it in front of you. 

"V-Victor, I..."

"You were in the hospital last week. Did you truly believe that you could hide this from me?" 

"I am s-sorry. I knew you were busy and didn't want you to worry." 

"Why are you not getting enough sleep?" 

Taking in a deep breath, you told Victor the truth, "I have been volunteering, and there is a lot to do around the company. Anna has been sick, and Minor has to take care of a sick family member, so I have to do their work as well."

Victor sighed, "Did you think that I would get angry at you if you told me the truth? Your well being is more important to me than anything." 

"Victor..."

After making a few calls, Victor turned his attention to you, "For the time being, you will solely focus on your company. I have asked Goldman to send a few employees of LFG to your company. As for volunteering, you will take a break from that."

"But-" Before you could make any excuses, Victor interrupted you. 

"There are others in the city that can volunteer in your place. Also, you are still responsible for sending your reports in on time."

You were waiting for him to say this, but what Victor said next caught you completely off guard.

"Send your report to Goldman in bullet point form, and he will convert that into a formal report." 

"What?" You gawked at Victor, thinking that you may have misheard his words. 

Victor chuckled, "Dummy." 

He rose to his feet and made his way to your chair. Victor picked you up and walked to the sofa in his office. 

"Now, I want you to rest." He gently lowered you onto the black and white sofa before taking off his suit jacket. 

Victor covered you with his blazer and took off your heels. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. 

After a few minutes, Victor turned his attention from his laptop to you only to find you sleeping peacefully. A rare smile appeared on his lips, "Sleep well, my beloved dummy." 

After what felt like an eternity, you finished your volunteer work. Anna had warned you to think carefully before working on a show that required you to volunteer. You couldn't help but think that you should have listened to her. 

The clock read 1:10 am, and your report was far from being finished. You were almost tempted to call your employees and ask for their help, but you decided against it. After all, the company was your responsibility. 

You decided to take a break and walked over to your open window. 

"Having trouble sleeping?" 

You nearly lost your balance, but Gavin caught you. 

Even though this was usually Gavin's way of visiting you, for some reason, you could never get used to it. 

"Gavin? What are you doing here?" You regained your balance and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

"You have not been sleeping for the past few days." 

"Huh? How do you know that?" 

"I come to check on your every night." He gave a smile. 

"You do? Are you that worried about you?" You pecked his lips. 

Your action caused Gavin's cheeks to turn red. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat before speaking, "I always worry about you. Would you like to come out with me?" 

"Well, I have a report due, but..." 

Gavin smiled and lifted you out of the window. "It won't take long." 

The night air was crisp and refreshing. The moon's brightness made the ocean shimmer. The cool air brushed your cheeks, causing you to wrap your arms tighter around Gavin's neck. 

"Cold?" He asked with a hint of concern in his voice. 

"No, the air feels good." 

By the time you got back, you felt so calm that you were able to finish your report in no time. 

All the while, Gavin sat on the sofa and watched you with a smile.

After you finished, you took a shower and changed into your nightclothes.  When you walked out, Gavin couldn't help but stare at you with wide eyes. 

You had completely forgotten that Gavin was still there and had accidentally worn your revealing nightwear.

Your boyfriend rose to his feet and slowly walked towards you, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. 

"Gavin, will you be staying? It's pretty late." 

You failed to notice the mesmerized look on Gavin's face. He wordlessly lifted you and carried you to bed. 

After placing you on your bed, Gavin brought his lips closer to your ear and whispered, "You look beautiful. Don't let any other man see you like this." 

After saying those words, Gavin quickly walked into your bathroom. 

In your tired state, you had failed to notice a tent in Gavin's pants. 

The next morning, when you saw yourself in the mirror, you realized what Gavin meant. Luckily for you, your dear boyfriend wasn't there to see you turning a hundred shades of red. 

It was 3:45 am, and you were typing away on your laptop. Your mind was too preoccupied to hear a knock on your apartment door. 

The sound of your text notification nearly made you jump from your seat.

My dear kitten, I know you're awake. I can see the light under your door.

You were confused for a second, but it suddenly hit you that the only way Lucien can see the light under your door is-

Rushing to the front door, you opened it to find your beloved boyfriend, smiling. 

"I have been knocking for a while. You had me worried."

You let Lucien into your apartment while explained that you were too focused on your report.

"Dear kitten, sleep is an important commodity. Do you wish to impair your brain functions?" 

"Of course not, but Lucien-"

"Have you forgotten that I am a neuroscientist? Sleep deprivation will negatively impact your body." 

"But Lucien, your awake as well, and you don't sleep enough." 

Your straightforward response startled your boyfriend. "I realize that, but my dear kitten, I do sleep. It does not seem as though you have slept recently." 

"I have just been so busy, and I need to get the report in before morning!" You sighed and rested your head on Lucien's shoulder. 

"Then shall we get your report finished?" 

Though Lucien was a firm believer of "one has to do their own work", his concern for your health forced him to make an exception. 

With the help of your genius boyfriend, you managed to get the report finished in half an hour. As soon as you submitted your report, Lucien carried you to your bedroom and placed you on your bed. 

"Do excuse me for a second." He made his way to the bathroom, and after a few minutes, he returned. 

"Lucien, are you staying here?" 

"But of course. How else will I be sure that you receive adequate rest?" With those words, he got into your bed before pulling you close to him. 

Your comfortable bed, Lucien's warmth, and his comforting scent were enough to help you relax. Soon, sleep began to consume you.

Lucien gently ran his fingers through your hair as he studied your sleeping face. "My love, do take care of yourself. You worry me more than you realize."   

———————————————

➣ MLQC Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

[adl-reborn]

I just realized I forgot to post this here...

Tales of Metroville: Thought Experiments

Aston hadn't slept in 3 days. He had been researching non-stop to discover the ailment from which his friend, Phoenix, was currently suffering. You see, they both were invited to dinner by the president. In theory they both were to be debriefed about current affairs and of any unusual goings on that the two most powerful known mutants on the planet might be needed for. Aston, however, had no need of it - his clairvoyance had alerted him both to the topics of discussion and of all such events including many not on the agenda. Meanwhile, the normally quite outgoing Phoenix barely ate and didn't speak at all, and when they both returned home he locked himself in the master bedroom to do who knows what.

If ever there was a good time for Aston's comprehensive ability to read peoples' minds, this would be a good one, but it isn't so simple with Phoenix. Try as he might, Aston could never do this with Phoenix. Even after years of trying, Aston could only ever manage to read vague emotional states, but that only told him the obvious. Distracted by this, so too was he unable to clearly see the path ahead. And so his research continued. Depression, Anxiety, MPD, and many others. He read through the DSM5 until he reached the chapter on autism.

At this point he paused as his sleep deprived mind called back to his childhood. His odd behavior as a preteen had prompted a visit to the psychiatrist - a visit which he left with a diagnosis of "Asperger's Syndrome". It was described as a milder form of Autism - one which could lie undetected in many. Needless to say he was familiar with it and had recognized much of himself deep within Phoenix's personality, but ultimately the DSM did not help beyond providing a starting point...

Luckily Aston did not need to look far to find his answers. Where official medical documentation failed actually autistic people filled the void, and crucially the true nature of a meltdown and a new concept - burnout, were introduced to him. Additionally, Aston found himself unable to read many of the individuals presenting their point - a correlation which Aston surmised was due to a radically different mind, but finding that out for sure wouldn't be easy...

The only way Aston knew to read minds of a type he had never read before was through a technique he dubbed a "mental fusion". It's theory of operation was similar in principle to what many Trekkies call a mind meld. This was a technique Aston had only ever done once - by accident, he did this to his father on the day he ran away - a fight had broken out between the two and they had inadvertently fused for but a few seconds. In that time they could feel each other's thoughts as one, and Aston gained a roadmap of the human mind, but Aston was overwhelmed by this and ran off into the forest. It was an ability he had sworn to never use again...but his friend was in danger and he knew it.

Slowly Aston opened the door - inside was Phoenix, sitting in the fetal position rocking to soothe his frayed nerves. He held his legs tight against his belly and did not speak to greet Aston. Where Phoenix once stood a timid child remained. As Aston approached Phoenix turned and looked apprehensively in his direction. Aston could see in Phoenix's eyes that his distress was great. As Aston sat down close to Phoenix he was apprehensive at first, but a calming touch from Aston soothed him enough to stay. They sat like this for a while - Aston holding an obviously distressed Phoenix, but he knew what he must do and that it would be uncomfortable.

Slowly Aston moved his right hand to Phoenix's right temple. Phoenix became agitated for a moment and started shaking his arms but Aston calmed him with the left. Once positioned, he waited for Phoenix to calm down and gently positioned his left hand. With his hands in position a faint blue glow began to appear, glowing brighter with every second. Phoenix let out a yell..."I'm sorry..." Said Aston. They both yelled in unison as their minds became one. In an instant they both found themselves unconscious

One hour later...

Aston awoke but not in reality. His fusion was more complete than he had anticipated - he surmised he must be in a shared dream as they both were extremely exhausted. Aston, being a proficient lucid dreamer realized this straight away, but he knew if he could recognize this that the dream is important in some way. In the distance he hears a cry.

It is Phoenix - crying out for help. Alone in the distance. In this dark void he can see nothing, and conjuring a flashlight nor a vehicle has no effect. He continues to run in the direction of the yelling but to no avail - Phoenix remains out of reach. Aston calls out to Phoenix but there was no response........

2 hours later

Aston awakens once again - this time in the house but in his bedroom. Objects are not in their designated places so here too this is a dream. Aston proceeds to navigate to Phoenix's room. He lies on the bed staring at the ceiling unresponsive. As Aston approaches Phoenix apparates into a standing position and then runs up to Aston crying to which they both share embraces...

2 hours later

The sound of screaming pierces in Aaron's ear once again waking him. Again he is in Phoenix's dream - the same one as the first time. Aston remembered well how he failed to handle this dream the last time so he tries a different tactic. He calms his mind and senses Phoenix's precise location. Though they can not see each other, Aston knows he and him are now together. Aston sits down next to Phoenix.

"It's alright...I am here to comfort you." Stated Aston. What was once a cry became a whimper, and the once dark void is now illuminated by a dim yellow radiance. "I am here for you Phoenix, no matter your darkest hour nor your worst fears." The yellow radiance grows in illumination from Phoenix's chest. The two mutants once again embrace one another, and the once dark void is now pierced by a blinding light. "Do you mean it?" Replied Phoenix. "I'll let the actions do the talking..." Aston returned...

2 hours later

"So you finally found it"

Aston awoke once again - this time in a peaceful garden surrounded by a lake with small gentle waves. A fog obscures any view beyond.

"Welcome to my world" stated Phoenix to the now slowly arousing Aston. "I never thought I would see you here, but I figured one day you might show up." "What...is this place?" replied Aston, "it seems peaceful, relaxing even."

"This is my comfort zone" replied Phoenix, "I come here to escape the demands of the world when they become too much to bear." "I couldn't come here for far too long - we were too busy saving the world." continued Phoenix, "I thought I had lost it forever - in its place I only found darkness."

"That was your first dream, and the third. What about the second?" Replied Aston. "The house is where we always go when we're done for the day." Phoenix stated, "I thought maybe I could relax there." "It didn't work out as I had hoped...but at least you were there." Phoenix continued, "If I had been alone in there I don't think it would have done anything. I was just laying there, worrying about all of the drone strikes, supervillains, contingencies, space nukes. You know, all that crazy stuff they brought up at the meeting."

"It's all so stressful you know! And, it's kind of hard to explain, but the lights...they felt blinding, and the klinking of so much silverware on porcelain didn't help either. It felt like I was expending every last drop of my being to not explode from all of the stress!" "I...had no idea." Replied Aston, "I was just sitting next to you. I already knew everything they had to say but since you had said nothing I didn't know what to expect! Even now after fusing I still struggle to comprehend the sheer depth of your thoughts. To be honest the buzz from the busted TV was starting to get on my nerves though...you don't think..."

"I know what you're going to say - I was diagnosed with ADHD, not Asperger's." quipped Phoenix. "Since when have I ever lied to anyone let alone you?" Replied Aston. "I just spent 72 hours straight tearing the internet apart to figure out why you locked yourself in a room. Not because I wanted to get back to saving the world - we both know it doesn't need saving right now. I did that because I knew you were deeply distressed...but I couldn't understand why until now." "This is not a place for argument." Aston continued, "This is a place to escape to when the going gets tough. Just as I can sort of read your thoughts now you should be able to read mine. Look, and see I am not wrong. All you need to do is look at me, focus, and visualize my mind inside yours."

Phoenix was skeptical, but did as asked. To his surprise it worked - all of the research Aston had done up until the point of fusion was laid plain to see. Every disorder in the DSM5. All of the documentaries, YouTube videos, and articles read. So too was Aston's past - all of the struggle he had to endure. He had a fake ID in high school - not so he could drink, but to rent an apartment of his own away from his father's prying eyes in Metroville - far from anywhere he would think to look. His Asperger's was plain to see - a similar but less intense mirror of Phoenix's own past.

As he came out of the vision Phoenix embraced Aston. "Thank you, Aston..." He finally said, "I think you saved me...from my own mind." "It's no sweat, that's what friends do am I right? Sometimes the heroes of the story need saving too." They both stood up, and the dream ended.

Aston awoke holding Phoenix in his embrace. So too did Phoenix not long after. Aston now could see some of Phoenix's thoughts, but Phoenix still remained an enigma - further refinement would be needed to fully understand his mind. "Did you sleep well?" Aston inquired? "Yes...or at least better than I have in the past few months." Replied Phoenix. "I'm glad...seems you needed it." Aston stated. "No kidding...I guess I needed to not feel completely alone for once." Said Phoenix, "Say...that technique you used to get inside my head...I thought you couldn't get inside my head." "That's what I thought too...until I figured out just how different your mind is wired compared to the norm." Replied Aston, "I took an educated guess that you were Autistic - that led me to find out that your brain is almost 100x more complicated than a normal human, and I daresay probably more complicated than mine." "Does that mean I have the same abilities you do then?" Phoenix inquired, now intrigued. "Maybe..." Replied Aston, "You want to find out?" "Sure, but I bought pizza the last time we trained so it's on you this time." Stated Phoenix. "Gladly!" Replied Aston, "I think this will be fun!"

[omgjasminesimone]

Masters of Sex Part 2

Bryce x MC

Follow up to this story as part of my 500 followers follow ups celebration.

Word Count: 2500

A week after Bryce and Casey’s hate sex session, Casey is approached by the last person she wants to talk to in the hospital hallway.

“Hi, Dr. Valentine, right? Can I talk to you for a second?” The pretty hospital pharmacist who slept with Bryce several months ago, who Casey thought was basically her boyfriend at the time, asks.

Casey gestures at the lab results she’s going over. “I’m actually really busy.” Casey claims.

“It will really just take a second.” The other woman insists, smiling gently.

Casey resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Fine.” She says shortly.

“Would you like to talk in the cafeteria?”

“Here is fine.” Casey insists, tapping her foot impatiently.

The pharmacist, Kelly, according to her name tag sighs. “Okay then. I just wanted to apologize. I didn’t know you and Bryce had anything going on, I definitely wasn’t trying to step into an existing relationship.” Kelly says softly, keeping her voice low so the doctors, nurses, and patients passing through the halls don’t hear them.

“You can have him if you want. Me and Bryce are done.” Casey replies, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

“Really? That’s not what he said when I ran into him at the gym yesterday. He said you guys were going to try to work it out.” Kelly reports. 

Casey rolls her eyes. Why would Bryce send this woman here to talk to her? Did he think this was going to help?

“Well, I guess he got his wires crossed, because we’re done. So, feel free to continue to sleep with him.” Casey insists. Casey turns on her heel and walks away before Kelly can respond. She’s fuming as she heads to the on-call room where she knows Bryce is likely napping between surgeries. 

She opens the door, and there he is, asleep on the small cot. She closes the door loudly enough to wake him up. 

Bryce starts as he wakes, reflexively checking his pager before he realizes that’s not what woke him up. His bleary eyes drift up to Casey. “What-” He starts, but Casey quickly interrupts. 

“Why did you tell the pharmacist that we were trying to work it out?” Casey asks, tone harsh. 

Bryce furrows his brow in confusion. “That’s not what I told her. I said I wanted to try to work it out.”

“Why would you even tell her anything in the first place? Did you want her to report back to me? Make me think that all of a sudden you’re going to act like you’re in a relationship?”

“Why would I have asked her to talk to you? It clearly just pissed you off.” Bryce retorts. 

“Then, again, why did you tell her anything?” Casey repeats impatiently. 

“Because, at the gym, she asked if I wanted to come by her place last night. And I told her no, and explained that you were mad at me for the last time I hooked up with her, even though we weren’t officially together, and then I said that I’m not sleeping with anybody else, because I want to work it out with you.” Bryce explains. 

Casey leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Well, don’t deprive yourself on my account. I’m done Bryce. Sleep with whoever you want.”

“I only want you. And I’m going to prove it to you.” Bryce responds with resolve. 

“What do you think you could possibly do to prove that?” Casey challenges. 

“Well, step one is the celibacy. And then…. I’m still working on the other steps to get you back.” Bryce replies, smiling tentatively. 

Casey rolls her eyes, turning towards the door. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

“Mark my words Casey, I’m going to make you fall in love with me, again.” Bryce calls after her.

...

..

“What the hell is this?” Casey asks when she steps into her room a week later. 

“Isn’t it romantic Casey? Bryce filled your room with roses!” Sienna exclaims, collapsing onto Casey’s bed, which has been covered in rose petals. 

“Who let him in here?” Casey complains. 

“Come on Case, the guy had $800 of roses in a wagon, I couldn’t turn him away.” Elijah claims. 

Casey picks up a rose from one of the many bouquets on her floor. “What a waste of money, he should have given me a Visa gift card.”

“Jesus, your heart is ice cold.” Elijah replies, shaking his head. 

“I told him this wasn’t going to work.” Jackie adds, moving a bouquet from Casey’s desk chair so she can sit. 

“I don’t even like flowers. Shows how much he doesn’t even know me. What am I going to do with all of these?” Casey questions. 

...

“Jackie told me you didn’t like the roses.” Bryce says, leaning against the desk as Casey uses the head nurse’s computer to look up her patient’s symptoms. 

“You shouldn’t have wasted all that money.” Casey chastises. 

Bryce shrugs. “I’m not worried about the money. I’m a surgeon after all.”

“A surgical intern.” Casey retorts. 

“Same thing.”

“Very different salary.” 

Bryce laughs at that, smiling at her. Casey quickly looks away. Damn him and that perfect smile. 

“Did you throw them away?” Bryce asks, rising from his leaning position when he sees Dr. Avery coming down the hall. He’ll have to head off to assist with her hernia repair surgery soon. 

“No, Sienna made them into potpourri balls. You know she’s crafty. Sold them at the farmer’s market. She made like $200.” Casey answers. 

Bryce laughs again. “Did she split it with you?”

“Yep, $100 richer. But that could have been $800 if you’d just given me the cash.”

“But I’m not trying to buy you Valentine, I know you’re priceless” Bryce replies with a wink before walking away.  

...

..

Casey wakes with a splitting headache in an unfamiliar bed two weeks later. She glances at her bed mate. Shit. It’s Henry Johnson. A psychology fellow from Edenbrook. She’d gone out to Donahue’s the night before, danced and flirted with Henry, and when she was drunk enough, went home with him. 

She vaguely remembers the sex. Unremarkable. Nothing like with Bryce. 

Double shit, Casey thinks as she sits up, looking out the window. Of course, Henry has to live in the same apartment complex as Bryce. 

It’s not that much of a surprise, a lot of the hospital staff live here because they heavily advertise at the hospital and offer a slight discount. But it’s bad luck none the less. 

Casey checks Henry’s clock. 8:10 AM. Bryce should probably still be at the gym from his morning workout. She’ll just sneak out really quick, and not even have to see him. 

Casey slips out from under Henry’s arm, sliding back into her dress from last night. She catches her reflection in Henry’s bathroom mirror. Make-up from last night still on and smudged, her curls looking a mess. She sighs, preparing herself for her walk of shame. 

She gets into the elevator, glad to see no one else in it. She impatiently presses the button for the lobby. But the elevator stops on the 10th floor, and of course Bryce Lahela is standing there. 

He seems surprised to see her, but quickly schools his expression as he steps into the elevator. 

Casey can’t believe her bad luck. 

“Long night?” Bryce asks. He tries to say it with levity, but there’s underlying jealousy and anger there. Casey rolls her eyes. 

“I don’t owe you anything. We’re not together. I can sleep with whoever I want.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” Bryce responds, somewhat testy. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “What kind of pie do you like?”

Casey looks at him incredulously as the elevator reaches the lobby. “Pie?”

Bryce nods. “I’m baking you a pie today. That’s step 3. The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.”

Casey walks out of the elevator, heading for the T stop. Bryce follows. “Why are you doing this? I told you we’re done. Maybe one day we can be friends again. But as far as a relationship goes, I’ve clearly moved on.” Casey gestures to her outfit from last night. 

“If it was any good, you wouldn’t be sneaking out of his apartment at 8 in the morning.” Bryce insists. Casey can’t really argue that point, so Bryce continues. “We’re good together Casey, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

Casey ignores that, splitting off from Bryce to head up the street. “I don’t like pie!” She calls over her shoulder.

“Liar, everyone likes pie!” Bryce shouts back.

...

The next day, Casey walks into the kitchen after her shift and finds her roommates all eating cherry pie around the kitchen table. 

“Bryce brought it over a little bit ago.” Sienna informs Casey as she pulls up a chair. 

Jackie cuts Casey a slice, handing it over. 

Casey chews thoughtfully. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” Elijah questions. 

“Hmmm...It’s not bad, but not amazing either.” Casey decides. 

“Come on Casey, you can tell he worked so hard on this. Don’t you see the indentations in the crust?!” Sienna presses. 

Casey shrugs, taking another bite. “He shouldn’t quit his day job.”

...

..

3 weeks later, Casey comes down with a nasty, highly contagious bug. She doesn’t want to infect her roommates, so she checks herself into a hotel south of Boston. She’s absolutely miserable, and pretty sure that she’s dying. She’s almost fallen into a fitful sleep when she feels a hand pressed against her feverish forehead. 

“Ahh!” She screams, rolling away and fighting to get from under the twisted covers. 

“Casey! It’s just me!” Bryce reveals, hands raised in a non-threatening manner. 

“What the hell Bryce? What are you doing here?” Casey asks when her heart rate has slowed down. 

“I heard you were sick.” He replies simply. 

“How’d you even get in here?” 

“Hotel concierges don’t ask a lot of questions when you just say, hey, I’d like an extra key to this room please, Casey Valentine’s.” Bryce answers. 

“That’s terrifying.” Casey mutters. 

“Well, in her defense, I look extremely non-threatening.” Bryce insists. 

Casey rolls her eyes. “Why are you here though? I’m in this hotel quarantining myself so I don’t get anyone else sick.”

Bryce waves off her concerns. “I have an extremely strong immune system. Haven’t been sick in like 15 years. So, I came to take care of you.” Bryce reaches to the nightstand. “Here, take these.” He hands her some medicine. “And drink this.” Some Gatorade. 

Bryce gets up from the bed, moving over to the couch and opening a textbook he pulls from his backpack. “Now get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll make you some soup.” Bryce instructs.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Casey insists, eyes drooping from the sheer exhaustion of being so sick. 

“I want to. Sweet dreams Casey.”

...

3 days later, Casey has recovered. And she hears from one of the surgical interns that Bryce is sick. She knocks on the door of his apartment. It takes him a while to answer the door, wrapped in a blanket and looking absolutely miserable. His expression immediately brightens when he sees her though. “Casey! What a pleasant surprise!” He greets, stepping aside so she can come in. 

Casey can’t help but give him an ‘I told you so look. “So, I guess your super immune system failed you?”

“This is some bug you caught Casey. Takes a lot to take me down.” Bryce insists, slowly lowering himself back onto his couch. 

“Have you eaten anything?” Casey questions. 

“I can’t keep anything down.”

“I know, but you have to eat something anyway.” Casey insists, pulling some warm vegetable broth soup from her shopping bag. “I also brought medicine, and fluids.” She reveals, sitting beside him and handing him the soup. 

“.... Did you think this would be the circumstances that would get you back to my apartment?” Bryce asks, chuckling weakly, but that quickly turns into a rumbling cough. 

“I had thought the only thing that could get me back here is more hate sex, but I owe you one.” Casey quips. 

Bryce laughs, taking a few small spoonfuls of the soup. He sets the soup to the side, leaning down to rest his head in Casey’s lap. Even she doesn’t have the heart to shoo him away when he’s so sick, especially when he’s sick because he took care of her. 

“Sweet dreams Bryce.” She murmurs as he falls asleep. She turns the TV on mute, watching it with subtitles. 

…

..

A few weeks later, Casey collapses to the floor of the supply closet as soon as she closes the door, tears wracking her small frame. She can’t believe she lost her. She ran so many tests, desperate to find why the young girl’s cell counts were so low. But she ran out of time, the child dying while Casey held her hand.

She knows who it is when the door opens, her suspicions confirmed when he gets onto the floor beside her and gathers her into his strong arms. She cries into Bryce’s chest, clinging to him desperately.

“Shh…. what’s wrong?” Bryce tries to comfort when her sobs show no sign of subsiding.

Casey just shakes her head, hugging him tighter as she continues to cry. Eventually, she’s all cried out. And then she tells Bryce about losing her patient.

Bryce wipes her tears away with his calloused thumbs, smiling sadly at her. “Do you want to know what I do when I lose a patient?” He questions.

Casey nods weakly, and Bryce stands, pulling her to her feet as well. He takes her hand, and gently leads her out of the supply closet, into the stairwell, and then up to the 6th floor. He walks her though the hallway and stops in front of the window of the nursery.

Casey looks at the newborn babies, all different shades and sizes. She can’t help but smile when she gazes at them, all bundled up in blue and pink hospital gear.

Bryce steps up to her back, speaking quietly behind her. “When I come up here, it reminds me that life goes on. It’s horrible to lose a patient, especially a young one, but you have to remember that you did all you could. And you’ll learn from this. And hopefully be able to save the next one. There’s always a chance to start over new Casey.” Bryce concludes.

Casey leans back into Bryce’s embrace, observing the room full of new beginnings.

…

..

After thinking long and hard about it, 4 days later Casey sends a text.

Casey Valentine: Do you want to get dinner? So we can talk about starting over new?

Bryce replies seconds later.

Bryce Lahela: Name the time and place, I’m there.

Tags:  @octobereighth  @akrenich  @lovehugsandcandy @regina-and-happiness  @brightpinkpeppercorn  @choicesarehard  @lizeboredom   @desiree-0816  @hellooliviaolivia @dreaming-of-movies  @friedherringclodthing  @weaving-in-words  @fairydustandsarcasm  @goldenjellyfish12   @pessimystic-fangirl  @mimikoasahina  @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl   @god-save-the-keen  @caroldxnvxrs  @cora-nova @emceesynonymroll @choicesgremlin @anxious-arliah @cordoniasmost @lahelable @ohsnapitzlovehacker @pixeljazzy @blk-girl-emoji​

[turtlesnakes-rocket]

Weekly goal setting #4

2021/02/15

This past week was really hard, there had been little time off work and much stress. Although I kept the 3/1 system and watched my calorie limit, I gained a kilogram. Perhaps it's because of the stress and lack of sleep? I know it's nothing, but it's so disheartening... With so many kilograms to lose, it would take me years and years of being on deficit to even approximate reaching my goal, and life on near constant calorie deficit feels extremely deprived. Not so much so because I crave hedonic goodness on my plate, but because the work I do (and which I chose and love to do) requires lots of focus and energy.

This week I did not try yoga and I did not have a strength training session with my PT (we could not make our schedules work together). Instead of pushing myself even harder with the same goals, I decided to take a step back. So, last week I planned:

Goals for the week: [x] couch to 5K week 3 - day 1 (done on Wednesday) [x] couch to 5K week 3 - day 2 (done on Friday) [x] couch to 5K week 3 - day 3 (done on Saturday)

Maintenance goals: [x] track calories with MFP app (Monday to Sunday) [x] maintain calorie deficit or caloric zero in a 3/1 system* [-] do 1 strength training session (60 mins) with a personal trainer (did not do) [-] 1 relaxed yoga session at home (min. 30 minutes) (did not do)

I could have done the strength session at home when it turned out my PT was unavailable. I could have made myself to do yoga at home for 30 minutes. But forcing these activities into my hectic schedule would have just added more stress to this weekly enterprise, which in turn would defeat the purppose of getting healthier. I want to avoid the goal fever which can make me abandon a new path by making it too hard to follow.

And so, I am letting go of yoga as a task for the upcoming week and I am adding a category of nice to haves: a session with a PT goes there. Week 4 of C25K will be quite demanding and I really need to learn to clear my schedule for the sake of rest and stillness. I am also adding some meditation to fend off stress, but for now just as an extra. Here is what I'd like to do this week:

New goals for the week: [o] couch to 5K week 4 - day 1 [o] couch to 5K week 4 - day 2 [o] couch to 5K week 4 - day 3

Maintenance goals: [o] track calories with MFP app (Monday to Sunday) [o] maintain calorie deficit or caloric zero in a 3/1 system* (zero days: Monday and Saturday)

Nice to haves: [o] 10 minutes of meditation - day 1 [o] 10 minutes of meditation - day 2 [o] 10 minutes of meditation - day 3 [o] do 1 strength training session (60 mins) with a personal trainer

* My PT suggested that I try maintaining the calorie deficit for ca 75% of the time and staying at my “caloric zero” at other times, so that my body does not adapt to the deficit as quickly. I was experiencing severe decrease in energy and focus recently (ekhm, I basically slept all through Friday and had to take time off work for that), so instead of using the 3/1 in weeks (3 weeks deficit, 1 week zero), I will try to follow a daily variant, having an extra meal every 4th day to hit the caloric zero, albeit without going over. Since I cannot adapt MFP to this plan, I will just have to deal with the app going crazy when it thinks I went over on a given day.

[roman-deserves-love]

Go To Sleep Goddammit

Hey so @officialwaterfairy I'm your secrets santa for @marsupials-of-mars' SS. The cuddles aren't until like 2/3 of the way through I'm sorry.

~1.6k words

Pairings- Prinxiety(could be platonic? I guess?)

Triggers- none of the top of my head, food mention, lack of sleep I guess?

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There were two (2) things about himself that Virgil Calavera would go to any length to prevent his roommates from knowing.

1. His middle name. Keeping that a secret was easy enough, as driving made him too anxious to even consider doing something that would require him to show his driver’s license. He suspected Logan knew, mainly because what didn’t Logan know, and he was the one who talked to the landlord and filled out paperwork on the behalf of all four of them, and thereby most likely had seen a fair amount of Virgil’s records.

2. The dread fact that, when Virgil was extremely tired, he got, as loathe as he was to say it, affectionate. Capital ‘a’, capital ‘ffectionate’. Not in the verbally affectionate way, oh no, that would be too easy. Rather, when he was sleep-deprived, Virgil was like a cat. An alarmingly cuddly cat. That was more difficult to hide, as Virgil had an oh-so slight (though Patton would certainly contest that) tendency to not sleep.

Now, usually Virgil was aware of his tired self’s antics, and kept to his room when he hadn’t slept, though that may have also been because if he left he knew that Patton would find him, lecture him, and convince him to sleep with one of his Patton-tented (heh) Dad Looks™, and Virgil didn’t want the father figure to have to waste time parenting him.

Fortunately, on this particular night, Patton was out at work, as well as, to his knowledge, Logan and Roman. Knowing this, Virgil felt comfortable hauling himself away from where he had been editing his third draft for the last ten consecutive hours to stuff some sustenance in his food hole so his hunger pangs, which had been distracting him, to go away so he could retreat back to his room and keep revising. Of course, before he’d been editing his draft, he’d been writing it, which meant that over the last two and a half days, he’d gotten one, count it up, one, uno, one singular hour of sleep, so, as one could expect, he was really fucking tired.

Virgil slogged into the kitchen and opened the pantry, peering at the meager offerings it had to provide. A sandwich would require a measure of effort Virgil was unwilling to expend in his current state of exhaustion, so that was out. Was that a Pringles can? Yes, but it was tragically empty. Damn it, Remy. It’s not even your apartment. He glanced at the rest of the kitchen. The bowl full of fruit that Patton insisted on buying was empty, and from where he was standing, he could see a cereal box stuffed haphazardly into the trashcan, ruling out that as an option. For a kitchen stocked by two different parental figures and the most high maintenance person this side of the century, there was shockingly little. Whatever, coffee’ll stave off the hunger. Damn necessary bodily functions. Alas, they were also out of instant, and as stated, Virgil was not in the mood to put time into his food. He wanted something quick and lazy, like the damn millennial he was. A random-ass tumblr post popped into his head, something about water tricking the stomach into feeling full. Virgil privately thanked god for the internet, helping sleep-deprived writers work since whenever the hell the internet was created. Virgil didn’t give a shit, he just wanted to retreat back to his room, so he could work, and his editor would get off his ass about deadlines.

As he stepped away from the pantry, tearing his eyes away from the spot above the dust-gathering oven that he just now realized he’d been staring blankly at for the last minute, a decidedly unexpected voice sound came from the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “Fancy seeing you here, Johnny Depp-ressing. You’ve been in your lair for the last four days.”

Virgil grunted at the figure before him, before responding in a voice gravelly from disuse and lack of sleep. “First of all, Princey, don’t compare me to that asshole. Second of all, it’s been maybe three days since I came out. Maybe.”

The prince arched an eyebrow, his face displaying a look of… was that concern? Virgil had always assumed that Roman hated him, since all he ever did was give him insulting nicknames and mock his admittedly cliché style. Whatever, Virgil was too tired, and his deadlines were too close to bother with reflecting on the actions of the regal man still standing in the doorway. As he considered this, he didn’t notice Roman opening his mouth to speak again, snapping his fingers in the emo’s face “Virgil? You there? You’re staring at me.”

Virgil snapped back out of his thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good. And if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to work,” He attempted to push past Princey back towards his room, ready to call this excursion a failure and get back to work. Instead, he bumped directly into Roman, who was now blocking Virgil from getting to the stairs, and thereby his room and his laptop. So, ignoring his tired lizard brain telling him how warm Roman was, he squinted up at the taller man and tried (operative word being ‘tried’) to push him out of the way. “Dude, let me through. I have shit to do, my revised draft is due in a week and I’m only through chapter five.”

Roman pushed him back gently, placing a hand on each shoulder and taking a good, long look at Virgil’s present state of dishevel. Virgil would never admit it, but his Lizard Brain™ pouted at being taken away from the heat. “You, you self-destructive storm cloud, are going nowhere except to bed. God, when was the last time you slept? You look dead, Virgil,” Virgil opened his mouth to protest that he was fine, that he had shit to do, but Roman beat him to it. “I am perfectly aware that you have work to do, J. K. Scowling, but if you push yourself you will burn out, I can promise you. If you won’t sleep, then at least do something besides write. I know I’m hardly one to talk about creating too much, but this isn’t healthy, Virgil.”

God, Roman clearly didn’t get how editing worked, but whatever. “Fine, but I’m going to my room. I’ll just scroll through Tumblr for a while or something,” Virgil fibbed, ducking out of Roman’s arms, and walking to the staircase. “Happy?”

Unfortunately, before he could get to the stairs, Roman grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. “Oh no you don’t, Goth Dun. If you go up to your room, you’ll just go back to work. You need a break, Virgil. I’m not making this up to annoy you, I’m trying to help, so just let me Goddammit!”

Virgil wrenched his arm out of Roman’s grasp and stalked over to the couch, crossing his arms like a petulant child as he sat. “Fine, Princey. I’ll take a break. If I can’t go to my room, what should I do? Twiddle my thumbs? Hunt for food that doesn’t exist?”

Roman displayed a grin that made Virgil wish he hadn’t said anything. “Why, Angstella McCartney, I thought you’d never ask!” Roman quickly walked over to the DVD case, humming to himself as he did so. After a minute of rummaging and awkward silence, Roman finally brandished a DVD in the air triumphantly. “Ah-ha! I knew the devil couldn’t hide from me!” He stood up and pivoted towards Virgil, still waving the disk. “Since you asked so nicely what you could do, I would propose that we watch a movie, so that I can ensure that Dad-vid Beckham doesn’t find you keeled over on your laptop because you, Sunshine, worked yourself to death. And for our viewing entertainment,” he turned and slid the disk into the video player, “A true classic- The Little Mermaid.”

Virgil groaned. He liked one (1) animated movie musical, and it was decidedly not the tale that Roman had decided was to keep him from ‘overworking himself’ and ‘keeling over’. Whatever. An hour or two couldn’t hurt too much, could it? And Roman was being far nicer than usual, and Virgil would hate to waste this window of kindness. “Fine, but I’m warning you, Brenin, if you start singing, I will yeet myself out the goddamn window.”

“Roger that, Calavera,” Roman plopped onto the couch besides Virgil and winked at him. (Winked? What the sweet Mary mother of fuck?) “I suppose not singing is a fair price to pay for keeping you out of the hospital.” And with that, he clicked on the movie and the pair spoke no more.

However, as Virgil sat, only half paying attention, his Lizard Brain slowly took over, and he no longer had the wherewithal to fight it. Slowly, slowly, he gradually shifted closer to Roman, who was totally absorbed in the movie, moving so subtly that he himself didn’t even notice until halfway through the movie, when he found himself close enough to hear his roommate’s breathing. Virgil found himself wondering what the worst thing that could happen would be if he were to scoot just a tad bit closer.

He was torn from his thoughts by a pressure around his shoulder. Roman had put an arm around him and was currently tugging Virgil into his side. At this point, Virgil made the wise, well-educated, well-thought-out decision to say, ‘Fuck it’ and leaned in, curling himself into Roman’s side and relaxing, and oh God Roman was so fucking warm, it was like sitting next to a heater, but who gave a fuck? Not him. He was warm, and his Tired Lizard Brain was happy, and Roman was carding his fingers through his hair, and Virgil was so fucking exhausted and so comfortable that when his eyes drifted shut, he didn’t bother stopping them.

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That's all, sorry if it's a little short

[holdmedownlaw]

2019 – the year I hope could be the start of my renaissance.

Some people know I have chronic insomnia. I often talk about it with my family, friends and those others whom I think should know about it. But nobody really knows how difficult it is to be battling such illness. The suffering is unspeakable; much worse than I can ever describe it. Allah knows.

It started the night before my birthday in 2008. I couldn’t sleep not because the following day was my birthday but because it was my first day in College. I thought it was just that normal night when you don’t get to sleep “because tomorrow is a special and you are so excited about it.” So I went through my first day in college tired but I still had fun nevertheless.

I did not able to sleep again the following night. This time I was alarmed. What could be wrong why I couldn’t sleep? I went to school again the following day but this time I can hardly managed the exhaustion.

I was not able to sleep again on the third night. I started to feel my heart pounding so hard to the point that it made it more difficult even to just calm myself down. I tried not to lose myself. I’m going to a see a doctor tomorrow, I said to myself. But I didn’t. I am so worn out after that day. Maybe I can finally sleep tonight.  But still I had no luck. I started to feel incapable of sleeping. I was getting crazy. “God, I have not slept a single minute for four consecutive nights. I would trade everything to get my eyes shut for even just a few minutes,” I complained to God.

The morning came and I never felt so awful in my life. Later that day, Dad accompanied me to a doctor. I explained how I feel and how I struggled to get sleep. What the doctor did was just gave me a prescription. It was a sleeping pill. To be honest, I was cynical if it could help me get sleep. I believed deep down I needed more than just a pill. I took the pill and tried to sleep. It didn’t work! That time I knew I was screwed.

The torture continued for many, many days. My life was never the same again. As about my studies, I still continued to attend classes despite my deteriorating condition. I just took every class-break I got for rest. And what I mean by rest is that I just lay down and close my eyes and tried to get as much energy as I could get without sleeping to keep me going.

I was able to endure over a month of sleep deprivation. And then there came one night, I was talking to myself, “This is my fate. This is what Allah has ordained for me. I have to be strong and accept it.” I recalled stories of sacrifices of Prophets to keep my spirit alive. While expecting a long night, just like the other previous nights, I closed my eyes. The next time I opened them, I saw the morning light through the small window of my room! I finally get the much needed sleep! I’ve never been so grateful in my life! All praise is due to Allah!

Sleep came back to me but the fear of not being able to sleep didn’t leave me. Every time night falls, the chance of getting a good night sleep is like tossing a coin. And so it did not really last long before insomnia came back again. I was just like given a few nights to breathe and then get back to wrestling again. It has continued to be the case since night of June 13th of 2008.

And just when I thought insomnia could be my only health problem, there came anxiety. It was like that monster who wanted to hurt my almost lifeless body, mercilessly. I did not know what kind of anxiety disorder it really was. I didn’t consult a specialist. I didn’t want to. I just knew I have it.  I couldn’t maintain an eye contact when talking to people. Imagine how devastatingly awkward was that and its negative impact on my social life. I lost a lot of friends. My ordeal served like a filter machine that made me identify who my real true friends are.

Sometimes I sweat excessively even in cold weather. I could remember one time in class my seatmate touched my arms and she felt I was soaking in sweat in a fully air-conditioned room. Goodness!

Many years of my life since anxiety touched me were nightmares. It took a great toll in every aspect of my life – relationships, jobs, studies, etc.! Anxiety also made me become critical of myself – my actions and decisions – which I was not used to be before. And when a person sounded so harsh in criticizing himself in front of his friends or family, imagine how brutal he is to himself in the privacy of his head. Although there were many days I had thoughts of harming myself, I never attempted to. But my devastating health condition made me begged God many times to either cure me or just take me.

My family started to notice although I never told them about it. Sadly, the core of stigma covers our home. I tried to learn more about anxiety and discovered that one in every four persons has anxiety. I also sought inspiration from people who advocate mental illness. Indeed, it is true that when you see others fighting the same battle and more if they fight to voice out what the society has always neglected to address, you feel a little better.

Fast forward to year 2019. Its been already 11 years of seemingly endless struggle. Then, in the dark came a friend who has her own story of struggle with anxiety. She became my classmate in law school in my third year.  She said she was experiencing panic attacks. Honestly I felt glad there was someone in law school who can somehow relate with the situation I am in. From then, we talked frequently about mental illness until one day I opened up to her about planning to see a specialist. I never thought about seeing a Psychiatrist before. It was not in my options. My parents would not approve either. They’ll kill me for worrying so much about what people would say if they find out I am seeing a Psychiatrist. But I was already in my senior year in law school. I had to seek professional help to survive law school.

Then one day, that friend of mine discovered a Psychiatric clinic located near the school. I expressed my desire to make an appointment with the doctor and she enthusiastically offered to do it for me because she said she personally knew the doctor’s secretary. I accepted. I didn’t ask but I speculated she was also planning to get checked but it turned out later that she engaged the services of another Psychiatrist. Maybe she just wanted to know if the Psychiatrist she referred to me is preferable to her. Kinda weird but I didn’t really mind given the fact that people like us who have anxieties really do things weird.

But before I got to have a meeting with the Psychiatrist, I had to go through my parents first and convince them to let me get professional help. My father was strongly against it. He said people would mock our family because one of its members is mentally ill. Nonetheless, I insistently convinced them to be more open to talking about mental illness and overcome the stigma until they finally permitted me to consult a Psychiatrist. What happened with my meeting with the Psychiatrist was different than what I expected though. I thought that before the doctor issues the prescription, I get to share first the entire story of my struggle - how it started, how it has been affecting my life, how I have been trying to cope up, etc., – sort of a counseling. He did ask me how I felt but the questioning I thought was too fixed and limited. It seemed he did not want a long conversation. I could somehow understand because he still had a long line of clients to treat after me. He diagnosed me with General Anxiety Disorder coupled with panic attacks. Then he gave me four medical prescriptions. I have to take four medicines a day! That was the first time I have to take that many medicines a day and probably the most ever in my life.

The following night after my meeting with the doctor, I took the bedtime pill. I was glad with the result. I had like 3 to 4 hours of sleep. That was much better than not getting sleep at all. I didn’t feel perfectly rested but that was a great improvement!

I continued to follow the doctor’s advices religiously and I have been feeling better and better as time goes by. Although I have not really been satisfied with the consultation processes with my Psychiatrist because I think he has not been therapeutic in terms of our doctor-patient relationship, his professional advices have actually been effective so far. One problem I have with one of the prescriptions though, particularly the bedtime pill, is that it has made me extremely dependent on it. I fear that my drug dependency will become permanent but my doctor said he’ll eventually slowly reduce the prescription if I get in the right health condition.

Moving on with my health condition, I am now very happy, Alhamdulillah! I am slowly getting back my self-esteem and confidence. I can now look straight in the eyes making me enjoy communicating to people. The heavy-head feeling is gone. I still struggle falling asleep but at least I still able to get good enough sleep which provide me just the right amount of energy to accomplish my daily tasks. I think it is safe to say that the best decision I’ve made with regards to my health was getting professional help. It cannot be more true to me that sometimes what we are ashamed of to do (address mental illness) is what will actually make us better. By the way, I have been watching motivational videos which I’ve found greatly beneficial.

In Shaa Allah, I will continue to get better and get back the life I have been yearning for years. I have suffered so much damage and destruction in many parts of my life over the past decade. God-willing, I will have the time and health to fix them.

There are many lessons I’ve learned from my years of battle with insomnia and anxiety. I would have never learned the importance of addressing mental illness as a societal issue if I never went through it. The most important though is to keep up the faith in God and to never give up. When you feel pain; when you are tired; when you feel like giving up; when you feel like quitting; when you look around you and nowhere do you see anything remotely looks like success; when it’s all dark; just keep up the faith and believe that God has put you in that darkness for a reason and that after that darkness, you will come out stronger than ever befor

[bangtanfancamp]

the Devil wears Gucci-Part 3

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Masterlist

▪︎series Masterlist

▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader(featuring Kim Namjoon)

▪︎1.7k words

•Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, loosely devil wears Prada au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, angsty banter

As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable opposite Kim Taehyung.

(Not my photo. Credit to vantaeholic)

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(Tae’s lunch || Tae’s POV)

I used one of my fries to poke the others around my plate, trying to figure out how I’d screwed this up all ready. I know I tend to joke around a lot, but it always seems to put women at ease. Things go better when they’re laughing. And whose day isn’t better for being flirted with?

I just had to work for the one girl who got pissed off by it. Everyone likes me. So what was the problem? Even the women at the cafeteria here liked having me smile at them or tell them how beautiful they were. Women liked that kind of attention, right?

Everyone goes through their day trying to impress the world around them, but everyone else is so wrapped up in themselves that they never even see them. I see it. I see how long the girl who took my order spent trying to cover up her freckles with her makeup, so I told her how cute they were. I saw how tired the woman who gave me my change was so I told her how much her eyes sparkled in this light. I noticed how nervous that cute girl across the office was so I smiled at her. What was so wrong with that?

Why did ____ have to look so disgusted with me all the time? I was just having fun. Life is hard enough anyway. People want to laugh. People want to be told they look good. And so what if I get a date out of it or someone invites me home. We’re all adults and we’re allowed to have fun. No one needs to be that serious all the time. And God, she worships that maniac, doesn’t she?

She got so mad when I mentioned it though. I thought girls liked talking about their crushes, but... maybe ____ is more private than I thought. Maybe I took it too far. It’s just so infuriating how she talks about him. She’s just so wrapped up in praising god Kim Namjoon- she made it so obvious that she had a thing for that egomaniac. I thought she’d finally laugh with me or at the very least blush and elbow me in the ribs, but she looked….i don’t know. She looked hurt. I think I crossed a line I didn’t mean to.

God, it’s barely been a day and I’d wrecked the only good part of this job. I noticed her the second I walked into that office. She got to me in 2 seconds flat. That hair, those legs, the way that skirt hit her curves- it made want to wrap my hands around those hips and bend her right over that jerk’s desk. God. I was already gone the second I laid eyes in her...

But then when she looked at me and I saw her face….she was beautiful. She’s quick and clever and obviously good at what she does. Everyone here seems to get along with her. I like ____. Honestly, she seems pretty cool. She’s just stuck on that douchebag. But hey, some girls are are really into that whole power and authority kink. Who am I to judge?

I just didn’t think there’d be any harm being vocal about things since everyone seems to think I won’t last here very long anyway. Might as well shoot my shot while I can, right ?

I slid my hips down in my seat and raked my hands through my hair. This place would never be my first choice, but it didn’t seem that bad, I guess.

There were things I’d much rather be doing with my time, but I’d do it for my mom. Anything for her. My stupid uncle in her ear caused this whole mess. At the end of the day, all of this was his fault for meddling in my life anyway.

Chin propped in my hands, I looked out the hundredth set of floor to ceiling windows I’d seen today wondering how long I’d even have this view when movement in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was ____. I felt myself starting to smile just because she was here. Maybe we could get on the right foot now and she’d loosen up a li-wait. She looked like- like she’d been crying. The skin beneath her eyes was puffy, and the light she’d had around her earlier seemed.... dimmer. Her teeth were clenched, her chin set extra high as she walked my way, white knuckling the tablet in her hands. She looked pissed. But calmly so, which was honestly scarier.

Crap, I really stepped in it this time, didn’t I?

I quickly scrambled to stand up from the table, but she pulled out a chair instead and sat down beside me. Folding her fingers together on the tabletop, she cleared her throat and looked up at me, challenge and grit lacing her gaze.

“Have a seat please, Mr. Kim.”

For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to say, so I followed her instructions.

“I’m glad to see you retained enough information from our tour to have been able to find this place. That��s a good sign at least. If you already have the layout down, I’ll brief you on what a basic day here looks like. Tomorrow Namjoon will be returning from a charity gala in Miami. On a typical morning, he is to be greeted with his hot coffee of choice, typically an extra hot hazelnut latte with an extra shot of espresso. Not two shots. Not three. Just one. Trust me, he’ll know. He despises soy milk and has an almond allergy so no fancy milks unless you’d like to be wearing it as an accessory for the rest of your day. Now that is a normal day, however, when he returns from a red eye flight, he expects to be promptly greeted with the first step of the juice cleanse from the Buddha bliss juice bar down on 7th so he is not visibly puffy during any press work for the day….”

She rattled on like this in detail for the next 15 minutes and it finally started to sink in who the real power at house of RM was-_____. Sure Namjoon pulled the big levers, but she made sure he never fell apart and that seemed like a super power all by itself. She knew every like, dislike, allergy, pet schedule, dry cleaner, exercise schedule, person to kiss up to, person to avoid...And she knew every contingency to tweak things for so he didn’t go off the rails and downsize half a department for their assumed incompetency just because he was sleep deprived and jet lagged off a red eye after being dumped by his latest high profile fling.

Not gonna lie- it was extremely impressive. And kind of hot. I don’t know if I’d ever seen a girl that strategic and smart. She really knew what she was doing. How she managed to be three steps ahead of the world's youngest self made man was a fearsome thing to see. The way she analyzed all these situations made me wonder if she was analyzing me too, but I didn't think on that for too long. She didn’t romanticize him this time. I noticed that. Just laid out all the facts as they were and how to troubleshoot for all of them. It was like watching a master explain chess strategies, and I respected it.

But at the same time, it made me wonder. Just how much of a man-sized brat was Namjoon? it was kind of disgusting how much the man needed to be coddled honestly. How easily everyone accommodated his massive ego. It definitely didn’t help me hate him any less.

“So!” She resolved, tapping a stack of papers against the tabletop to level them out.

“I realize that was probably an onslaught, but you have to dive straight into the deep end to stay ahead here. Any questions?”

“Yeah, just one: what time do you get here every day?” I leaned forward on my elbows, searching her face. She seemed caught off guard by my question, quickly trying to rearrange her expression after feeling like she’d been in control for our entire conversation.

“Just before 7am. I try to beat Namjoon here so I can prepare things for the day. It doesn’t always work though. It’s almost like he sleeps here sometimes.”

“And what time do you go home?”

“On paper? 6pm. In reality? I’d say typically 10 on a good night. Somewhere between 11 and midnight on his particularly temperamental days.”

Holy crap. Was she serious? “Last question.”

“Okayyy…” she pulled back from the table, body language screaming discomfort about where I might be going.

“So, if you’re here- how many days a week?”

“Five.” She answered succinctly, tone clipped. “Unless we’re approaching a deadline for a project- then weekends become mandatory too.” Jesus.

“And any holidays?” I add. Her gentle face is steely and guarded. I wouldn’t trust me right now either, dollface.

“Of course not. But there often is more work to be done than that accommodates so I usually come in anyway.”

“Uh huh. Right. So! Let me get this straight- you know what? for your sake, let’s even round down some. Let’s say, you’re here six days a week, working anywhere from 11-15 hour days. At minimum, you’re working well over at least 15-20 hours of overtime PER week with no vacations— which is not only unethical, it’s illegal. All for the glorious empire of Kim Namjoon. So. Riddle me this-when do you ever get to live your own life?”

Silence.

She dipped and furrowed her eyebrows at me. I could see her lashes fluttering as she scrambled overtime to come up with a defensive answer for me. I settled back in my seat, arms draped behind my head, knowing in some weird way, that I had won.

“You’re beautiful. You’re young. This can’t possibly be the way you want to spend all your time. Tell me-When was the last time you slept in til the sun woke you up? The last time you had a Netflix marathon in a grubby old T-shirt with dorito stains on your fingers and a giant glass of wine? Or! even went out on actual date for that matter? Why are you here wasting your 20’s away in this place running Namjoons company for him and getting none of the credit?”

She gaped, beautiful mouth struggling open and shut like a fish freshly yanked out of the water. I couldn’t tell if she was furious with me or just lost. It didn’t look like she’d ever asked herself that before.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do my job here. I’ll do what you ask. But do me a favor and think about that. It’d be such a shame to see so much beautiful potential go to waste.” I pushed off from the table to stand. I felt my chest swell- I had the upper hand again. “Now, I believe you mentioned something earlier about finding me a desk space upstairs. Shall we get started on that? I’ll need a pleasing environment if I’m expected to slug through all of Namjoon’s nonsense on a daily basis. The closer to you, the better.” I started to walk away, not waiting for her but knowing in my gut she’d follow. She wasn’t the only one allowed to have a mic drop moment.

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Part 4

Series masterlist

Thank you guys so much for reading til the end and visiting my little corner of the internet. I am SO excited about where this series is going. I started writing one of the last chapters first and have been going backwards to figure out what happened to get us there and- you guys- I can’t wait for you to see!! Should I try to come up with a regular upload schedule?? Let me know. ✨

[crazymarvelsuperfamily]

G’night dad

Peter is out way past curfew, and has travelled a little far from home. Tony drags Peter back to his, after finding the kid hasn’t slept at all for a week.

Peter took a glance at the clock. 03:23 he could do with getting back home soon, especially as he had an essay due first period. He felt utterly exhausted, but he would never admit that to anyone. He used to have a curfew of 10, but somehow, he had managed to get out later and later, without Mr Stark on his case. And with May working longer shifts so hardly ever home, Peter didn’t really have anyone keeping a proper eye on him. Peter couldn’t quite remember when he last slept, but he’s pretty sure he got at least 2 hours on Tuesday. Today was Sunday, well, Monday now, Peter guessed. But recently, crimes had shot up all over NYC, and for some reason, the police didn’t seem to care about any of it. So, where he was once a Queens vigilante, he was slowly becoming the hero of the whole of New York. Which was tiring. And that was an understatement. Most days, as soon as he finished school, he’d grab a sandwich or something, come home if May was cooking dinner, then go straight back out again, where he’d spend most of the night stopping petty crimes, muggings, and street gang fights. Often these days, he wouldn’t get back until 5 or even 6 in the morning, so he just wouldn’t bother going to sleep, especially since he needed to keep his grades up and he was getting a fair amount of homework at this time of year.

At that moment, he was in a car chase. Except, he wasn’t in a car, he was just chasing the car. The car that Peter was like 90% sure was loaded with a bunch of weapons. Now, last time he did this, about a year ago, this didn’t go down to well, not to mention that he had stood Ned up at a party, but he was fairly certain that this was going to go a lot better. For starters, he had Karen. He was also pretty sure that this car was just full of normal, human technology, not the crazy alien stuff last time. So, his car chase was going well, by Peter’s standards. He was keeping up with the car, all his stats were good, and he even had a rough idea of where he was and where he was heading. He had tracked the car from Brooklyn, it had gone through Manhattan, and now as hit was heading North out of Bronx, Peter had met up with Droney and was on the tail of the car. Obviously, Peter would be lying if he said all the swinging wasn’t tiring him out fast, but he was pretty sure he was gonna catch the car soon. He was working on his plan and was almost ready to stop the car. He just needed to wait for the opportunity to swing in front of the car.

“Karen, how are we doing?”

There wasn’t any response.

“Karen?” Still no response. Then Peter passed a sign. You are now leaving Bronx. Come back soon! Then it struck Peter.

“Play-Pen Escape protocol activated. Calling Tony Stark. All powers deactivated.”

“What?! Karen. No!” Peter protested. He tried to shoot a web, but the suit disallowed him. He slumped down by the side of the road, and the next thing he knew Tony’s face popped up in front of his face.

“Hey kid. Why are you in your suit at half 3 in the morning? And why have you gone so far from Queens? What on earth is going on?”

“Half 3? Is that really the time? Wow. That’s a little later than I thought.”

“Cut the act kid. You look like you’ve had your soul sucked through your corneas.”

“Bit harsh Mr Stark.”

“Meh, it’s the truth. Now, if I reactivate your suit, please get back to your Aunt’s as soon as possible.”

“But Mr Stark, I’ve nearly caught this car I’ve been tracking for over 2 hours. They are literally a weapons cartel, and I’ve basically got them and- “ Tony cut Peter off before he could say anything else.

“But kid, no.”

“please!”

“Peter, it’s a school night. You have homework. And, I know I’ve been busy this week, but don’t think I haven’t got a clue what your up to. Have you slept at all this week?” Tony suddenly seemed genuinely concerned.

“Well, I got a couple of hours in on Tuesday.” Peter started thinking, it wasn’t like he was purposely depriving himself, he just couldn’t find the time.

“Christ kid, I was joking. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

“No, Mr Stark, don’t. Please, I’m fiiiiiiiiine” Peter said mid yawn.

“You totally are not.”

“Yeah. I am.” Peter mumbled. He was starting to remember quite how tired he was, and he really didn’t want to move at all. He was almost closing his eyes when Tony startled him again.

“Hey kid, you still there?”

“Mmmnhh I’m tired. I think I need a nap.”

“I know kiddo, can you stay awake for just five more minutes? I’m on my way. You know what, we’re gonna play a game. You’re gonna say banana for every red car that passes.”

“Mr Stark, that’s a silly game.” Peter giggled sleepily.

“I know, but you need to stay awake. In fact, you’re too comfy. Karen, turn the heater off in Peter’s suit.”

The heater instantly powered off, and Peter felt the cold air of the night hit him. It stung a bit and jolted him again, “Brrrrrrrrr. Hey, that’s mean.”

“You know what’s meaner? Letting a kid fall asleep by the side of the road.”

Peter mumbled something barely audible, but the ironman suit landed next to him in under a minute.

“Hey kid, can you get in the suit?”

“aren’t you in there?”

“you crazy? I’m at home eating popcorn.” The facemask flipped open to reveal empty suit. Peter wearily stood up, as the ironman suit enclosed around him.

Tony programmed the suit to take him straight back to the compound Upstate. Peter was back in about 10 minutes. The suit carried Peter right the way onto Tony’s floor, before dropping him out. He immediately flopped onto the sofa. Tony wandered into his living room, bucket of popcorn in his hand. He tossed a piece into the air and caught it with his mouth.

“Hey Spiderling, nice of you to show up.”

“Mr Stark…” Peter began to whine, but he literally couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Come on kiddo, I think you oughta go to bed.”

“gotta get back to May.”

“We both know she’s on a night shift. I texted her, and she says its fine for you to stay the night here.”

“Can’t – I have an essay due tomorrow, first period.”

“Wow, if you think I’m waking up early to do the school run you are very much mistaken.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Kid, you need to catch up on sleep. I’m calling your school tomorrow, you’re taking a sick day.” Peter blinked twice and nodded slowly. “But for now, Mr Sleep-Deprived, you are going straight to my spare room to sleep. And no essay writing or monkey business.”

Tony lent a hand to help Peter stand up. He slumped an arm around the kid’s shoulder and led him into one of the spare bedrooms. Peter had flopped onto the bed and had to be reminded to take the spider man suit off before crawling under the sheets.

“Mr Stark,”

“Yeah kid”

“maybe you’re right.”

“How d’ya mean?”

“I guess I am pretty tired, come to think of it.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I know. Get some sleep.” Tony spun around to leave. He dimmed the lights, and out of the darkness came an extremely drowsy little whisper.

“G’night Dad.” Tony blinked. Dad?

“Good night, son.”