#Ive been researching something for almost 2 hours now and I thought I was done an hour ago but nope! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mystyrust · 4 years ago

Text

Fracture - Ectober 2020

Day 2 Prompt: Bones / Pulse

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203635

Word Count: 2387

Tags: Past torture, identity reveal

There were many ways Maddie liked to spend her weekend. When her kids were younger, she and Jack would take them out to museums or parks – a family outing. Now that her kids are in high school and have a lot of homework, they don’t go out every weekend anymore. In fact, it feels like they haven’t had time to bond as a family in months. Jazz is always in the library and Danny is always with his friends – sometimes even sleeping over – or catching up on missed homework. Maddie could never figure out why Danny had a backlog of homework to catch up on, yet always had time to hang out with Sam and Tucker.

Now, with her kids spending all their free time by themselves, Maddie liked to spend her free time in her lab, creating and improving her inventions to catch the elusive ghost Phantom. It had been around the time that Phantom appeared that Danny and Jazz became more distant – while both her children were in support of the ghost vigilante, Maddie and Jack were against it, devoting their free time into solving the mystery of what made Phantom different from every other ghost that haunted Amity Park. They wanted to catch it, run experiments with it, and dissect it.

So this weekend was like any other – Maddie was huddled in her lab with Jack, working out the schematics of a new invention – when their Fenton Ghost Detector beeped; a strong ecto-signature was detected inside the Fenton household. This was normal if the ghost came out of the Fenton portal – this signature came from… the living room. Maddie and Jack ran up to find Phantom having stumbled through the front door, leaking ectoplasm behind it.

“What do you think you’re doing here, spook?!” Jack raised his ecto gun at the intruder, his large frame standing in between Maddie and the ghost. But Phantom was in no shape to fight.

“I… I need help,” The ghost managed to gasp out. Maddie paused in confusion. The ghost had tears streaming down its face, heavy breathing, and ectoplasm leaking down one limp arm. It’s mimicking of human physiology was fascinating. And to come to ghost hunters for help? Either this was a trap, or it wasn’t thinking straight.

“The..guys in…white… barely got away from them,” Phantom continued to explain. Maddie noticed him sway where he stood. And that was the weird part – he stood. Not floated. And he had legs, instead of a spectral tail.

“Please, before they… finish me… like they did…”

Jack lowered his ecto gun ever so slightly – not lowering his guard, but still confused about what to do. It was odd, seeing the always confident Phantom reduced to pleading and begging its former enemies. Something in his psyche was so shattered from his experience with the GIW…

Maddie didn’t know what to make of that, but she couldn’t waste a perfectly good opportunity when it knocked phased right through her front door.

“Let’s… let’s stabilize him for now,” Maddie said, lowering Jack’s aim. “Then we can ask him what happened. And decide what to do after that,”

Jack nodded in agreement. He gingerly placed his ectogun down, approaching Phantom with both is hands up and in front.

“We’ll help you, spook,” Jack spoke loud and purposefully. “But we’ll need to take you down to the lab to do that,” Phantom nodded slightly, and Jack took that as permission to walk up to the ghost. Phantom was… he wasn’t heavy but Jack wasn’t expecting the ghost to be as solid and corporeal as he was. He lifted the ghost in his arms, and followed Maddie down to the basement.

The ghost offered little resistance, but he was breathing heavily, and leaking a concerning amount of ectoplasm from his limp arm and one of his legs. It must be difficult to keep up the charade of struggling to breathe, when he’s lost as much ectoplasm as he has, Maddie thinks.

They place him on an examination table, with Maddie grabbing a scanner and running it over his damaged arm.

“Jack…” Her voice shuddered, “His arm is… it’s fractured.”

“What? That makes no sense, he doesn’t even have…bones…” but the scanner showed Jack exactly that.

There were a million and one questions that ghosted Maddie’s lips: How did you get bones? Do other ghosts also have bones? Where do the bones in your body go when you form a spectral tail? Are your bones made of calcium, just like human bodies? But the words that left her mouth were:

“You have bones?”

All her years of academic study, her dual MD/PhD, wasted on a Captain Obvious™ moment.

“Yeah, no duh,” Phantom cracked an eye open, while the rest of his face continued to grimace. “And it hurts…like hell…” There was that snarky teenaged attitude the Fentons were so familiar with.

“How do we even treat this?” Jack asked. One of Phantom’s legs was badly muddled – peeling the suit back revealed deep and numerous gashes. He was losing ounces of ectoplasm a second, and if these injuries were on a human, he’d need blood transfusion and stitches.

“Well, we can supplement ectoplasm to help his healing factor. And then…” Maddie gulped. “Stitch the leg. And set the arm.”

Maddie went to the back of the lab, returning with a set of tools. Scalpels, needles, and bandages. The glint of the metal must have caught Phantom’s eyes – how was he still conscious? A human with this much blood loss would not be awake right now – and the ghost started hyperventilating.

“What are you –? No, please! Please don’t! I wasn’t – !”

“Phantom! We’re helping you!” Jack yelled back. Phantom stared at Jack, eyes fogging over and breathing uneven.

“I’m sorry I never…I should have told you sooner,” Phantom cried. It was an ugly cry, from a body and heart in pain. Maddie didn’t know what else to call it. What kind of guilt could be eating Phantom alive, from the inside?

“I can’t –” Phantom grunted. “I can’t change back! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I should have –”

“How about we help you first, then you tell us what you should have told us when your arm and leg are better?”

Phantom, still sniffling, nodded silently.

Maddie set to work with putting stitches on his leg, while Jack hooked an IV of purified ectoplasm. She looped phase proof thread – from Jack’s Fenton Fishing Pole – onto a surgical needle, and set to work, closing one of the many wounds. Since the wound was deep, Maddie needed to stitch the inner layers first, before sewing the outer layers shut. She was marveled at the level of detail in this ghosts’ body – maybe she could ask him about that when he was healed up.

It was strange that only one leg was injured, while the other leg looked fine. It was stranger how Phantom’s breathing and crying hitched every time her needle pierced his flesh.

“Phantom, can you –? Can you feel the needle as I –?”

“Mhmm,” Phantom managed to grunt, tears freely flowing from his eyes. “Please hurry, Mom.”

Maddie froze in her tracks. Why did he even –? Okay calm down.

He can feel pain. He can display emotion. He can appear delusional with loss of bodily fluids. And in that delusion, he seeks a parental figure.

He has the psyche of a child, her rational mind concludes. So she’ll play that part.

“Almost,…Almost done, sweetie.” Maddie responds hesitantly. “You’re doing great.”

As for the feeling pain part, she isn’t how drugs can affect a ghost – and she can’t take a chance that Phantom will react badly to some experimental medication they use on him. She can only hope that he passes out at some point, and doesn’t feel any pain for the remainder of the procedure. From watching previous footage of his battles in chronological order, Maddie had concluded that Phantom has a fast healing factor. She can only hope that healing factor is still fast. He’ll be fine.

Funny how in the course of an hour, she stopped thinking of Phantom from an “it” and started to think of Phantom as a “he”

It took thirty more minutes of verbal coaxing and soothing for Maddie to finish stitching Phantom’s leg. He promptly passed out when that was done. While Phantom was asleep, Jack finished bandaging the arm, adding a splint to keep it straight.

Finally, with ghostly patient asleep and treated, Maddie and Jack sat down, exhausted.

“Well, I never thought – ” Jack paused, unsure how to word it. They learned more about Phantom’s physiology today than ever before, and he broke every known convention about ghosts that they’d researched thus far. Not to mention a ghost turning to a ghost hunter for help.

“I want to take a sample of his ectoplasm while we can,” Maddie said. “But he might not have enough to spare. And I have a feeling that we’ll get more questions than answers under the microscope, too.”

“You’re right,” Jack agreed. “I wonder what he went through, for him to be as injured as he was and decide to come to us, of all people. Heh, Danny and Jazz would freak.”

“Well, Danny’s sleeping over at Sam’s again, and Jazz was tutoring someone else this weekend.” Maddie mused. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Phantom stayed here for a few days without them even knowing.” It hurt her to know how detached her children had become from her, and it hurt her to know that her assessment of the situation was objectively correct – Jazz and Danny were rarely home.

“Well, he mentioned the guys in white,” Jack said. “If they are the ones who did this to him, and we protect him from those guys, we can earn his trust. And then maybe he’ll let his guard down enough for us to …at least solve the mystery of what he is.”

The two scientists stare at the sleeping form of Phantom, noticing how even in a seemingly unconscious state, his chest rises and falls with each breath.

“With his consent, I suppose,” Jack added.

A few hours later, in the middle of dinner, Maddie and Jack are interrupted to rude knocking from their front door.

“Ugh, not another door to door salesman,” Jack grunted. Answering the door revealed that their rude guests were none other than

“GIW,” an agent dressed in white answered, holding up an identification badge. There were two agents, both equipped with ecto guns and headphones, Maddie noted.

“Yes, we can see that,” Jack responded, keeping the shock out of his face. “If you wanted to come over for dinner, you should have called earlier. We don’t have leftovers.”

“We came to inform you that Phantom has escaped our captivity,”

“We didn’t even know you had Phantom in captivity,” Jack raised his brows in surprise.

“Just a few hours of questioning. We underestimated his abilities, and his allies.” The agent continued. “We’ll need extra weapons, the latest of whatever you’ve developed.”

“Well, we don’t have anything, since we gave you everything we made last time,” Maddie interjected. “So we don’t have anything complete yet. And besides, wouldn’t it have been faster for you to send an email or announcement that Phantom escaped? You must have lost a lot of time driving around to come tell us in person.”

“You never know who could be listening.”

“And besides,” the agent in the back added, “There was a chase. We don’t know where he disappeared to, but we suspect he stopped by here.”

“And why do you think he stopped by here?” Jack was very good at keeping the caution out of his voice, Maddie noted. If it were her, their cover would have probably been blown by now.

“Isn’t it weird for a ghost to hide out at a ghost hunter’s house?”

“True, but the same ghost uses technology he stole from a ghost hunter, and he can go into the ghost zone from the portal in your basement,” This was nothing new to Maddie. In fact, it annoyed her that Phantom used Fenton tech, because it meant he somehow evaded ghost detectors in their home to acquire it, or it was handed to him directly by Danny or Jazz. That last one hurt the most; she couldn’t bear the thought of her children going behind her back to support someone who was the very antithesis of everything they stood for.

Or, someone who used to be that. Maddie isn’t sure how she feels about Phantom now, but at the very least, she doesn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“Well, we’ve been home all day, and our equipment didn’t detect anything. But if we find anything new, we’ll call.” Jack told the two agents.

“Alright, stay on alert!” The first agent said, before leaving. Jack closed the front door, and the two waited until they saw the agents sit in their vehicle and drive off, before moving from their spot. Thank goodness they didn’t come inside or into the lab; the lab’s high ectoplasmic content could somewhat mask Phantom’s signature, and could be explained as a false positive on ghost detecting radars, but they wouldn’t be able to hide an unconscious ghost – an unconscious ghost! How wild is that?! – if the agents wound up downstairs.

Maddie breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s been a few hours, let’s check on him”

Maddie and Jack headed downstairs to their lab. Just as they had left him, Phantom was sleeping on the examination table, hooked to an IV of ectoplasm. The fracture on his arm looked like it would heal completely – the naturally cool body temperature of the ghost helped, along with his quick healing factor. His leg looked significantly better, though Maddie wasn’t sure if the stitches would leave behind scars.

Maddie pulled a notebook from the work table, adding and updating her notes with everything they’d learned about Phantom today.

“Can ghosts get scars?” Maddie mused out loud. “Or is it unique to him?”

“I dunno, I guess we’ll have to ask –”

Their conversation is interrupted by a groan – Phantom was waking up – followed by a flash of bright white light. The Fentons covered their eyes, and when the light died down, they’re met with even more questions than answers.

“Danny?!”

#ectoberweek2020 #ectober2020 #danny phantom #dp fanfic #day 2

26 notes · View notes

ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 5 years ago

Text

It’s the Colours You Have

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Notes: This is my ballet au fill for @starkerfestivals summer bingo. I had a lot of fun doing some research and watching some ballet to get a feel for this one - here’s hoping you enjoy! (Title is from Colours by Grouplove) Warnings: Peter suffers a pretty not good injury and there’s some NSWF stuff. Summary:

Peter Parker grew up in the dance studio and thought his entire life would revolve around it. All of a sudden, an injury takes that dream out from under him. He finds a way to stay in the world of dance through photography, his knowledge giving his work a different edge. What happens when he meets Tony Stark, a new dancer for NYCB? (Love stuff happens, that's what.)

Read on AO3 here.

Peter always thought professional dance would be his life.

At a young age, he convinced Uncle Ben to let him try one of the local studio’s classes. It took a bit of convincing – Peter was 6 years old at the time and didn’t quite understand the man’s hesitance. In the months leading up to Peter’s plea, he danced around the sofa in their living room and obsessively watched Step Up – where most boys his age were rolling around in the dirt, Peter studied the lines of dancers’ bodies and pictured himself making those same exact moves.

After what felt like a lifetime for Peter, Ben finally gave in and signed him up for all of the classes available. In his excitement, Peter took everything seriously and excelled through the beginner’s classes before the year was over. Madame Romanoff pulled Ben and May aside when sign-ups and company auditions for the next year were about to take place – in the simplest of terms, she let them know how talented of a dancer Peter was; he needed to be taking more advanced classes.

So, he did – Ben and May didn’t hesitate to put him where he needed to be; they already knew his potential, he was steadily moving through grades at school, too. Their nephew had an innate sense of talent for just about everything. Peter put his entire being into the things he liked – it made putting the squeeze in worth it. For a while, he didn’t see what that meant for the two of them – he simply enjoyed the fact that he could dance and get better at it with every single day that passed.

Landing a place on Romanoff’s dance company gave him access to top notch ballet instructors. He was very small but made up for it in the strength that he possessed. With the intention of making him one of the male pas de deux dancers, Peter cut out the rest of his classes and focused solely on ballet and pointe. It made him feel powerful and in a lot of ways beautiful, too. Even if it was weird for boys his age to love dance and feel their best while doing it. He’d gladly take the teasing – Peter loved to dance and no one was going to stop him.

The dance world took him under and guided all of his decision making. Peter worked hard all of middle school to get into Midtown Fine Arts and Dance, a high school that catered to those that were seeking entry into art’s colleges like Juilliard and TISCH. Getting in was a validation he’d been searching for and everything about his life moved to revolve around his time there.

Between Romanoff’s and Midtown, Peter was working so hard that he didn’t even realize he’d put himself in a position where his body couldn’t handle the stress. He wanted to get into Juilliard so bad and knew the only way he’d be able to go was through a scholarship. In every class since his freshman year, Peter heard about senior showcases and how every second in the walls of Midtown were preparation for that.

Every dancing piece in productions, Peter took part in. Whenever they needed a volunteer teacher to run through the parts with the younger kids, Peter volunteered. The desire to succeed overwhelmed him and by the time he got around to preparing for his senior showcase, he was at a loss and so physically exhausted, there were times when he didn’t know how he was actually still standing.

That should’ve been a clue – the fact that every part of his day felt like a chore, and that when he sat down to rest, he was comatose within seconds. Other things were trying to warn him of the ultimate shut down coming his way. His toes never recovered from the extensive pointe exercises and his muscles were always aching. If he knew that pushing himself would have been the thing that brought the world he created down – well, he still probably would have done it.

Two weeks before senior showcases, Peter was warming up when he felt a sharp shift in his lower back during a turn. The wince it pulled from him almost doubled him over. He stopped suddenly and took a couple of limping steps towards the long bar across the back wall. Hiking his leg onto the bar, Peter let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he felt the shift again. The want to keep going couldn’t override the numbness he felt in his toes.

As elegantly as he could, Peter hit ground and laid down as flat as he could, his entire lower back on fire.

It took 3 people to get him up off the ground; any sort of shift in weight made the source of his pain explode with unmanageable stimulus. Peter didn’t remember much of the movement from the floor to a gurney and into the back of an ambulance – his brain turned off to counteract the significant shift in his life happening.

The next few hours were spent getting scans and assessments done – Peter floated along from one place to another in the haze of the drugs they gave him to relieve the world ending pain. He didn’t need to hear the doctor’s words after he saw the look in his eyes – any chance of getting to Juilliard on his feet was out the window. 2 fractured lumbar vertebrae that would need to be fused and 3 ruptured disks were the thing to finally take him out. He wondered briefly, if Flash would feel undercut by his injury – he’d been gunning after Peter for years.

Thankfully, Midtown was sympathetic to his situation and let him stay around to finish the end of the year and graduate. It took a lot out of him to gimp around and be within viewing distance of the classes he’d been leading only days prior.

Being stuck with a walker for the first couple of weeks after his back surgery pushed him to work hard and get his feet back under him. Though he’d never get to dance again, at least he could walk – walking was one of the things Peter wanted to be able to do for the rest of his life. The necessity to put his all into walking and just getting around took the brunt of the blow off losing dance – it served as a good distraction, at least.

By the time the second part of his senior year came around, Peter was able to walk and get around. He was looking forward to finishing up his school year and finding out what the rest his life would be like without dance. Yet, he also longed to be close to the one thing he loved so dearly. And thankfully, Madame Romanoff offered him a good solution right before the big company recital at the end of the year.

When he walked into the studio, his heart thumped painfully against his chest. It felt like such a long time since he walked through the doors and caught his reflection in the mirror upon first glance up. A part of him wanted to walk over to the bar at the back of the room and start his stretching process, that piece of him craved the elegance of his long lines and powerful turns. Yet, the rational part of him understood that walking was more important and pushed him to move further into the studio towards Natasha’s office.

“Ah, Mr. Parker – glad you could join me. Please, have a seat,” Natasha said the second he walked in the door, the dark red lipstick coating her lips making her smile look big and bright. She kept her hair in the traditional ballerina bun and walked around in high heels – but she was kind and knew talent when she saw it. Grimacing at the little bit of a twinge he still felt, Peter took a seat in the chair in front of her desk, his fingers knitting together in front of him.

“I’ll cut right to the point. Life has dealt you a shitty card and it’s ridiculously unfair. You should be involved in dance, Peter. It’s a part of you. So, I thought – why not see if you can capture it, instead.” She turned in the big chair she was sitting in and grabbed something off the filing cabinet behind her. The fancy camera with the biggest lens he’d ever seen coming into view was not what he expected.

Her smile grew when she saw the look on his face. The whiteness of her teeth was slightly intimidating, even now, after knowing her for more than 10 years. Peter tossed a smile back her way and looked tentatively at the camera now sitting on her desk.

“What’s that, Madame Romanoff?” Peter asked, unable to keep the curiosity from getting the best of him. He was always on the other side of pictures and hadn’t picked up a camera ever in his life. The big screen and fancy dial on the back looked intimidating from where he sat, and he hadn’t even picked it up yet.

“Go ahead, Peter – it’s my solution. Figure out how to use it and then apply what you know about the art of dance to the art of photography. You know what’s beautiful. Long lines, sharp movement patterns – the beauty of a picture is how you capture it. The technical shit can be learned, the inherent knowledge you have about dance can’t.” She grinned wider when he didn’t hesitate to take the heavy camera from her.

“I want you to come to classes. You have a home in this studio, Peter. Don’t think because you’re not using your feet doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of what we do here.”

With that, she shot him another smile, then shooed him out of her office with a swift flick of her wrist.

----

Taking to the task like he tried to do with everything else, Peter dug his nose into the Canon Mark IV 5D user manual that he found online and figured out how to change the settings on the camera. It blew his mind, how many things the camera could do and how in depth the pictures could be. That was the first step.

After another couple of weeks of figuring the camera out and taking it with him on the daily walks he started embarking upon during his recovery – Peter finally felt comfortable enough to return to Romanoff’s in an attempt to do exactly what she said; capture dance.

It took a while – a lot of trial and error and frustration that Peter hadn’t ever experienced before. Things usually came easy for him. Yet, the more he did it, the better he started to feel about it. Thoughts of graduation and the future were out the window for a while – Peter dedicated himself to figuring out how to keep a foot in the world that seemed so unfairly gone from him.

He shot the end of the year recital and felt proud of the results that he ended up with. Of course, it wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as actually being on the stage, but – it brought him a sense of happiness, nonetheless. When he handed over the files to Natasha, she pulled him in for a hug. The clench of her arms kept him close, the words she whispered to him abundantly clear – “There you are.”

For some reason, those words hit him hard. His injury at the beginning of the year took a lot from him. With his rehab and the changes that came with the debilitating loss of the use of his body to create an art he devoted his life to, Peter bounced around, slightly lost. The realization that he could still connect with dance drove him forward – finally, Peter felt like he had a direction again.

Trying to get into TISCH’s photography program was a nerve-wracking experience and forced him to have to really evaluate why he wanted to make still frame his focus. The life of movement stayed alive in the photographs and he grasped onto that through the application and interview processes. His portfolio and approach must’ve been enough – Peter got acceptance and scholarship money to start the next semester.

Natasha, upon learning that he’d be in town and pursuing photography, brought him on as the in-house photographer. It didn’t pay much, but he got to have unlimited access to subjects and people that were always looking to show off the skills they worked so diligently to achieve. Peter appreciated the opportunity that Natasha provided and worked hard to provide her with his increasing talents.

Little by little, Peter honed in on his skill and absorbed as much knowledge as he could in his classes and on the job. College passed by in a blur of attending company ballet and TISCH dance productions to shoot as much as he could. He put his work in every showcase available to him and learned from the critique that people threw his way. In the dance world, critique was fodder and fed into the challenge that photography constantly imposed upon him.

Upon graduating, Peter took a job with Juilliard in the arts department as a media director and took care of the photography and visuals for all of the productions the entirety of the department put on. And because Juilliard had a direct link with New York City Ballet, Peter did the media for them as well.

When he took a step back and looked at it, his life was still wrapped around dance – and now, he didn’t have to sweat it out and perform on the stage to be directly within it. He lived in a great apartment in Manhattan and got to see his Aunt May every Sunday for whatever concoction she decided to come up with for them. All and all – his set up wasn’t terrible. Now that he had his professional life worked out, Peter felt desperate to see where the other parts of his life could take him.

As luck would have it – Peter got a nudge in right direction a couple of weeks later when he found himself in the Lincoln Center waiting for the dress rehearsal for the Nutcracker. It was one of his favorite ballets and he enjoyed being able to shoot the multitude of versions he’d get to see throughout the holiday season. And if rumor was to be believed, there was a new prince dancing with the prima ballerina.

The music started up a little while later and Peter got lost in the movements. He didn’t need to take any snaps tonight, but wanted to make sure he knew what the lighting looked like and where every group would be coming in from. Since he was working both video and film, he needed to be able to shoot from all angles. For a while, he let his camera dangle from his side and just let the dance run away with him.

By the time it got to the Prince and Sugarplum Fairy’s dance, Peter had his camera poised over his eye, the entirety of the pass one of the most important things he needed to get during the show. Their initial andante maestoso brought the two of them on the stage and in a swift dance across it – the prince in fact a totally different one than the year before. His tight calves and well sculpted thighs and hips were packed into white tights that highlighted every one of his movements.

Peter’s finger stuttered a few times through the tarantella, his focus on the dancer’s beauty and strength as he leapt and landed across the stage. When he pulled the camera down to make sure he got at least a couple of shots to play around with, Peter sucked in a sharp breath – the man was even more gorgeous than he expected, the details of his well-kept facial hair and dark brown eyes standing out the most.

Satisfied that he knew enough about the show, Peter packed up his equipment and headed out before the final act with all of the dancers came on – he knew from experience that it would be a free for all and didn’t need to plan for that. He wanted to play around with some of the images and got lost in the thoughts of the prince as he was walking out – not noticing that he was walking right into someone until well after they collided.

“Holy shit,” Peter gasped out, his long-lost dancing skill coming into play when he managed to turn and barely hit the person, instead of barreling through them and bringing them both to the ground. “I’m so sorry!” Peter put a hand on the wall and let his heart rate calm down before looking over at the person he almost took out.

His stomach dropped when he noticed the dancer he’d been eyeing up from his spot at the edge of the stage – his eyes were even darker up close and his mouth pulled into the most charming of smiles. Sucking in a breath, Peter just barely stopped himself from slapping his hands over his face. A dark red blush moved across his cheeks instead, the heat of it warming up his skin alarmingly.

“You’re pretty quick on your feet,” the man said instead of the 20 other things that could have easily come out of his mouth. Peter quirked a brow and let the slightest trace of a smile slip across his lips.

“I used to dance,” Peter replied quickly, the openness he was feeling in that moment as fleeting as some of the grumpier moods he sometimes found himself in. “Glad I still have it.” That made him smile wider, Peter a little surprised when the man across from him also smiled. It led to the slightest wrinkles in his cheeks and made Peter’s heart race.

Before the man could say anything else, a wide stagehand came walking down the hall, his eyes intent on them. “Tony, it’s the final number – you’re up.”

They shared another looked before the man, Tony, turned and started walking back in the direction he came from. Peter felt himself smiling and was surprised to see Tony holding the dressing room door open, his arm and head peeking out from behind it. “What’s your name?” He looked at Peter hopefully, his eyes wide.

Peter tightened his grip on the case he’d been pulling behind himself and let a couple of heartbeats pass before he answered – it was important that he thought before he spoke. “I’m Peter Parker,” he finally remarked, his eyebrows knitting slightly.

With a wave, Tony shot him a wink and started to disappear behind the door. “See you later, Peter Parker.”

----

The next 5 days were busy and filled with too much looking down the scope of the camera and 3 showings of The Nutcracker daily. Despite that, Peter found some time to look up the beautiful dancer – the name Tony was enough to get him a full career rundown and multiple links to pictures and videos of his past performances. Though a little older, Tony Stark seemed to be hitting the peak of his career now, instead of at a young age like most dancers. The write up he looked through said something about engineering, but he didn’t delve any further. It felt a little weird to have looked as deeply as he did to begin with.

Every night, Peter found himself watching Tony a little closer – he was all long limbs and taut muscle, his form technical but not exactly perfect. His lifts were where he excelled, though – the bundles of muscles waiting to spring into action were stretched to the limit, making the intensity of his strength standout even more.

Unable to find the courage to actually approach him, Peter spent too much time editing the images of him, ever click of his mouse meticulous and precise to create the perfect balance of camera work and Photoshop manipulation. After too many nights of it, Peter forced himself to acknowledge that talking to Tony seemed pretty necessary. Making sure to put some of his favorite on his phone, Peter felt resolved to at least show some of his work off in guise of starting up a conversation.

The final show came around with excited energy – Peter always enjoyed the last curtain call the best; there was always a certain sense of satisfaction that only that round of applause could bring. He switched up his shooting position and did some clicking from the flanks to catch a little backstage action – the decision proving to be a good one when he heard a throat clear during the first act.

“Fancy seeing you here, Peter Parker,” Tony said, his eyes shining in the bright light streaming in from the stage. He looked at Peter without blinking, a slight tilt to his head.

Peter forced himself to take a couple of breaths, his head suddenly spinning from the flush of epinephrine that his sympathetic nervous system decided shoot through his veins. The excitement of bumping into Tony probably more than obvious. “Right – fancy seeing the photographer taking photos,” Peter replied as he moved the camera to his eye and took a couple of quick shots of Tony who’d started to stretch in the open space around them.

Tony’s beaming smile made Peter’s breath catch, his eyes going to the back of the camera out of habit – the image he found there already one of his favorites of the bunch. Looking up, he gestured down at the camera in his hand. “Want to see?” Peter asked, his hands already turning it, making it more inviting for the man.

It took everything in him not to watch Tony walk towards him in the sheer shirt that, in the light, made his tanned skin stand out through the white fabric. At this closeness, the tights on his legs were translucent, Peter privy to the thick vein that ran from Tony’s calf all the way across the front of his highly muscled thigh. All those details in just the span of 5 steps – Peter wondered what he would find with an unlimited amount of time to explore him.

Shaking his head, Peter forced himself to focus when he felt the inevitable warmth of another human body getting close to him. He used his thumb to scroll back through the last 4 images he shot, a grin slipping across his face. “You have a nice smile,” Peter mumbled softly, the muscle in his forearm twitching with every click from one picture to the next. He got to the end of the roll before daring to turn his head.

“I think you’re just a good photographer,” Tony retorted, a chuckle rushing from his chest. They were close enough that Peter could feel his arm lift and clench with the sound. It made him stiffen, his skin breaking out into prickly gooseflesh. If he didn’t move, maybe he wouldn’t have to lose the rise and fall of Tony’s rhythmic breathing against him.

“Must be both then.” Peter shifted, his brain all of the sudden realizing that he was missing key pieces of the show in favor of flirting with the very attractive and incredibly distracting male dancer. “Come find me after the show – I’ll show you some from the week.” He gave Tony an encouraging smile, then turned back to look out through the curtain.

Peter heard him laugh again then the softest “okay” before the closeness of his presence could no longer be felt. Forcing himself to not turn and look, Peter did his best to pay attention to the rest of the first act – his racing mind all of the sudden not completely dedicated to the art before him on the stage.

As usual, the second act went a lot faster than the first – there was a bit more action and the dancing was not as convoluted with plot. From this perspective, Peter could see a lot more of the sideline action and felt glad he decided to trust his gut and move around a little more. When Tony stepped onto the stage, Peter gripped his camera harder – his eyes peeled for the smallest of details.

The cheeky bastard managed to look his way a couple of times throughout his solo, Peter more than certain that he got some snaps where Tony was staring directly down the pipe of the lens. It took more focus than ever for Peter to actually finish without dropping the camera and watching the ending number – since it was the last one, they changed it up and gave more solo time to each of the leads; then finished with a long bow with a few teary words from NYCB’s director. While she spoke, Peter got his equipment together and disappeared to start downloading some of the shots.

A little while later, Peter was pulled from the culling process by a tap on his shoulder – he squinted behind his glasses to make sure he was at a stopping point and turned, his fingers pulling the frames from his face when he noticed it was Tony.

“Don’t take those off on my account,” Tony said with a smirk, his hair freshly wet and brushed back from his face – the natural look of his skin even better than the brightness the spotlight and well-placed makeup gave him. His lips settled into a light smile and he leaned against the table Peter found to spread out on. He must’ve been nose deep in his work for longer than he thought.

“I just need them for the light,” Peter mumbled, jamming them into the pocket of his shirt. Glancing down, he shifted the computer so Tony could see. “Your tarantella was great tonight.”

Tony leaned in a little to look at the picture more closely, the move bringing the sharpness of his cologne into Peter’s space. As if he was trying to measure his own arms on the screen, Tony reached out to trace the line of his hand down to the middle of his chest. “You said you danced, right? You can tell – the fact that you framed up that specific move says a lot. That’s so crisp, Pete,” Tony admitted, the man pulling back, his hands shoving the long sleeves that were trying to settle on his wrists up his lean forearms.

Taken aback, Peter adjusted himself in his chair. It’d been a long time since he talked to anyone about that part of his journey through dance. Sometimes May would look at him wistfully and relive some of the memories with him, but even that made his heart ache. Licking his bottom lip, Peter nodded his head. “I did about ten years at Romanoff’s, she got me started with the photography thing after my injury.”

They locked eyes for a second, Tony’s eyebrows up, almost completely buried in the hair that was now creeping down, trying to cover his forehead. “Natasha Romanoff? She’s still on 5th, then?”

Grinning, Peter nodded again. “5th and then a newer studio on 64th. She’s flourishing,” Peter said, his hands coming up to make air quotes with his fingers. “Do you know her?”

“She was a couple years ahead of me at Juilliard. I didn’t get into the dancing world until a little later in life, so we were the same age, despite not being the same year. We partnered for pas de deux once,” Tony remarked, his eyes glowing with the memory. “You must’ve been good.”

Peter put his hand on the touch pad of his computer and went about saving the photo on the screen to distract himself – his heart started to beat a little harder at the thought of how much talented he cultivated in his youth. “I wasn’t terrible. I did not treat my body very well, however – back gave out before I could really see how good I could have been.” Clenching his lips shut, Peter wondered where all the words came from – he hadn’t been this chatty… ever.

Tony crossed his arms and leaned more heavily against the table, his forearms now on display, the lines of muscles firm and wrapped in tanned skin, the veins there pulsing from the work the man did that night. “Ah – that’s the worst. I’ve been fighting off a bum toe for a couple of years – the pointe gets harder and harder as the time goes by,” Tony muttered wistfully, his foot shifting subconsciously. “How long have you been taking photos?”

Without much thought, Peter started the process of packing his computer and hard drive into their cases, his eyes never leaving Tony. “About 7 years now. I went to TISCH for a 5-year program and have been working for Juilliard and NYCB ever since.” Finally done with the menial tasks that kept him preoccupied, Peter stood up. “What about you? You here to stay or just doing a stint with the company this season?”

Despite not saying anything, Tony followed Peter when he started walking – the natural way they just sort of accommodated each other weird for having only met once before. Tony waited until they were in the foyer of the Lincoln Center before speaking again. “I’m here to stay. NYCB gave me a company spot and choreographer position. After being on the road so much the past couple of years, coming home felt right.”

Though they were right by the door, neither man made any move to go exit through any of them, the two men obviously more than willing to mill around and talk. Peter pulled his camera case close to him, the metal of it cool against the thin material of his khaki pants.

“There’s something about the city, right?” Peter asked, his head turning to look at the still busy street right outside the door. “I’ve been here my whole life.”

Smiling wide, Tony nodded – the gesture answer enough. Peter watched him shift and smile a little bigger. “Any chance you’re free for headshot type stuff? I could use an update.”

The question caught him off guard for a second, his hopes of maybe getting to know the guy slowly starting to become more of a reality as the moments passed. That thrust him into gear – Peter fumbled into his pocket and scrolled through a couple of his photo files before he found his infographic.

“Everyone is on break for the holidays, so I’ve got lots of time. Turn your AirDrop on, I’ll share my info with you,” Peter replied without hesitation, his cheeks warm from the events of the night and the distracting way Tony was making him feel. “The Juilliard studio has great lighting.”

After grabbing his info, Tony reached across the space between them and gripped his shoulder, the touch firm and friendly. “I’ll get ahold of you. Thanks for making me look good.” Throwing him a final smile, Tony hitched his bag up his shoulder and walked quickly out the door and into the cold December night.

----

A couple of days passed before Peter heard from Tony – they decided on a time and agreed to meet at the Juilliard studio that Friday. For 4 days, Peter immersed himself in the editing process to make the time go a little faster. It didn’t, but that was always how it worked when he was looking forward to something.

In his need to fill up all the spaces of time, Peter did a bit of online shopping and ordered a couple of different backgrounds to play around with. When the day came, Peter used his key to head in a little early – his lighting set up would take a while to get put together and if his hands were busy, he didn’t have any time to fret about the nerves coursing through him or the hopes he hadn’t been able to put to bed since meeting Tony. Getting ahead of himself seemed like a recipe for failure – but he wasn’t one to not step out on the limb just because of a little fear.

Two solid hours of preparation went by much faster than he figured it would – Tony walked in through the door while he was still fiddling with the long backdrop, the sturdiness of it important if Tony was going to jump and move on and around it. He didn’t notice until he looked up to see how straight it was and caught Tony’s reflection in the mirror behind him.

“Hey, Tony,” Peter started, his face breaking out into a familiar smile. “I’m just about ready. I got the door to the bathroom unlocked, so you’re free to change as much as you’d like.” He tugged at the backdrop one more time before finally feeling satisfied – he knew what he was doing, the nerves needed to go the hell away.

Tony looked at him for a moment, his whiskey-brown eyes roving over his face without any shame. It felt good – being looked at like that. Whatever it meant; Peter wasn’t going to be mad about the attractive man in front of him not being able to tear his eyes away. The only thing that ever made his heart race like it was in that moment was dance – that had to mean something.

“I’m ready to go. I just need to put my bag down and change into my flats,” Tony finally said, his eyebrows quirking as a soft grin lifted his cheeks.

“You should probably stretch, too,” Peter remarked offhandedly, his eyes returning Tony’s stare, inch of skin by lovely inch. He was happy to see that there were a couple different cuts of shirt in his hand – they’d have a lot to work with. With that in mind, Peter went about making sure his camera was connected to his computer while Tony got ready.

As expected, once they got started, things went seamlessly. Tony was used to be instructed and took Peter’s suggestions in stride. They did a bunch of different poses in each outfit, Peter making sure that Tony switched to pointe at least once during the process. By the end, Peter was laughing at the faces Tony made at him when he switched positions.

Almost satisfied, Peter put the camera down and stepped onto the backdrop. He swung his arms from side to side to get his blood flowing, then swopped up into a one footed stance without much trouble (the twinge would come later.) “I want you to leap and land like this – I’d demonstrate, but this is as far as that goes,” Peter joked, his body saturated with endorphins from the rush doing any sort of movement with his body always brought.

Tony didn’t move to get in position, so Peter straightened up and started to think about how else he could describe it. A hand on his arm stopped him, Tony’s fingers squeezing lightly. “You still have such good technique,” Tony mumbled, his hand moving to pull at Peter’s until he was a little further onto the backdrop. “No turns, right?”

Nodding, Peter relaxed his body and let himself be led into a resting position, Tony’s hands now on his hips. “Let’s see how well you remember your backwards steps,” Tony whispered, his lips just a few inches away from Peter’s ear. His fingers tapped on the right side of Peter’s hip and they were off in that direction – his arms widening when they got to the edge of the pass.

It felt weird for a second, being in the hold position; but he quickly got over it, the relief of any stress on him quickly taken by Tony’s hands and their tight grasp on his hips, Peter’s feet barely touching the ground. They went through a couple of moves before Peter was stopping their movement with a subtle touch to Tony’s hand.

“That’s enough for me.” Peter was grateful for the brief experience and threw an even more sincere look over his shoulder at Tony. “Thank you, though – I haven’t moved like that in years.” He lifted his hands over his head and stretched himself as long as he could go before walking back over to his camera set up, his fingers wrapping around the base with ease.

When they were all done and Tony was walking out of the bathroom in street clothes, Peter looked up and motioned to him. He let his eyes linger on the way Tony’s jeans sat on his hip, the cut of his shirt enhancing the slimness there. Tony moved with ease, the man more than familiar with his body and the things he could do with it. Shaking his head, Peter moved away from that thought – it could very easily get him in trouble.

With Tony by his side, Peter smiled at him, then started to go through the frames he took throughout the two hours they’d been working. Tony spent a lot of time critiquing himself and grinned when Peter went out of his way to say the exact opposite of whatever came out of his mouth. The stills were beautiful and after a little work, would be more than enough to circulate around in resumes and show leaflets.

“Those are great, Pete – I like how well you capture the action; I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it,” Tony commented, his eyes still wide from the cruise through the photo gallery. At some point, he let his hand drift to Peter’s shoulder and kept it there, his fingers now gripping on and off. “I’d love to see more – want to grab a coffee, or something?”

As it happened, coffee ended up being a quick walk to Peter’s apartment where he got as far as pulling his computer out before Tony was flung across his hips, muscular thighs clenching with every move he made. Peter was surprised for about two seconds before he grabbed a handful of Tony’s ass, and dragged him closer, their mouths meeting in a heated kiss without either of them hesitating.

Peter didn’t usually do stuff like this – kiss people he didn’t know much about, but at the same time, he didn’t like to miss out on good things, either. He watched Tony reached down and take his own shirt off, the muscles of his stomach and arms rippling as the cells fired and clenched. When he relaxed, Peter was pleased to see that Tony was very cut up and would ripple gloriously as he thrust into him in the near future.

The fact that Tony managed to get his shirt off of him and the button of his pants undone without him noticing blew Peter’s mind, the man had a way with his mouth and let his tongue do terribly dirty things. In 25 years, Peter had never been kissed like that before – Tony’s carnality was exactly like his dancing, thorough and highly skilled.

It seemed like Tony came prepared because Peter was suddenly naked and on his back with Tony between his thighs, a packet of lube and a condom dangling from his fingers. They made eye contact for a moment, the desire in Tony softening as an affectionate look rolled over his face. “This okay? You’ll tell me if you’re not comfortable?” Tony’s questions rolled off his tongue without him stopping the scandalous press of his hips.

“It’s a lot more than okay. As long as you don’t roll me up into too much of a ball, I’ll be just fine. Just don’t stop whatever it is you’re going to do,” Peter babbled, his lips totally loose now that most of his thoughts were clouded with lust and completely focused on the delicious press and pull of Tony’s fingers on his skin and cock against his own.

He was pleasantly surprised when Tony shifted and pushed at his hip until Peter took the hint and rolled over. Leaning on his forearms, Peter spread his legs as much as he could on the couch and thrust back a little, his ass entirely on display. Groaning when Tony used his hands to spread his cheeks, Peter looked over his shoulder to see dark eyes staring at him longingly.

Tony emptied the packet of lube on the flat of Peter’s back and swiped his fingers through it. His free hand ran along Peter’s flank and lulled him into a sense of comfort – the breach of Tony’s fingers around and then against his rim secondary to the sensation of first a knuckle and then an entire finger slipping into him. While he moved his hand, Tony peppered all the skin he could reach with kisses and licks – he was obviously in the business of taking Peter apart one piece at a time.

Progressively, Peter got lost in the rush of his lust for Tony and the scorching touch that made his skin prickle and the well of heat in his stomach start to trickle over the edge. Tony’s weight held his hips down just enough that with every thrust back against talented fingers that were now aggressively stretching him open, Peter got the slightest amount of friction against his cock. It was both too much and not enough in one agonizingly delicious movement.

Draped completely over him, Tony pressed his lips to Peter’s ear when he pushed in. The stroke to slide inside was firm and didn’t stop until Tony’s hips were pressed against the muscle of his round ass cheeks. Peter shifted until he could accommodate his weight on one hand – he reached back and gripped Tony’s hair hard with the other, the moan slipping from his lips forcing a flush down the length of his chest. “Oh, Tony – “

From that point on, Peter lost track of time and space – he was so completely wrapped up in the tactile sensations and the sensitivity of nerve fibers that were constantly being stroked and prodded. With Tony’s arm wrapped around his middle, Peter gave himself over to the sensations, the long, slow glide of a firm cock in and out of him driving him absolutely mad. Little by little, he melted into the rhythmic bump of Tony’s cock against that spot deep inside of him and got closer to a finish that felt like a long time coming.

A shout left his hips when Tony used the grip around his chest to pull him up until his back was firmly pressed against the skin of well-muscled pecs and abs that were clenching with every thrust Tony delivered. Peter felt him slow down and move the grip of his hand from his chest to his hips, long fingers digging in. “The way you move against me, Pete – it’s driving me insane. It’s like you know me. Like you’ve studied my body and know exactly what it needs.”

His cock throbbed at the trueness of Tony’s words. Though he didn’t have a chance to physically explore it, Peter knew a lot about the way Tony moved from the images he’d been editing non-stop – it seemed like he learned a lot more about Tony than he originally imagined. Bringing his hands until they were resting over Tony’s on his hips, Peter laced their fingers together and let out a long moan; the carnal noises the only thing he could conjure up in that moment.

Another few thrusts of Tony’s cock dead against Peter’s prostate had him coming without a single touch to his throbbing erection. It was a novel thing for him, so he watched with wide eyes as he shivered and clenched and finished with the most release he’d ever seen come out of himself hitting the bedspread underneath him. Tony rolled his hips and thrusted through it until he was moaning against Peter’s neck and collapsing them both on the bed – the man courteous enough to turn them on their sides and away from his own puddle of cum.

Peter couldn’t stop the helpless moan that slipped from his mouth when Tony pulled out and rolled away to get rid of the condom. He turned and watched him move around until Tony finally joined him on the bed again. It shouldn’t have surprised him, the fact that Tony wrapped a hand around his arm and pull him back until they were resting as close together as possible. A nose ran through the sweaty hair at the back of Peter’s head – Tony pulling in a long breath before settling in.

“You can still dance. That was the most flawless piece I’ve ever been a part of,” Tony said softly, his hand flattening against Peter’s stomach to pull him even further back, despite the fact that there wasn’t any space left between them. “Rest up for a bit – I’ll take you out for another spin in a little while.”

Laughing, Peter let his hand rest against Tony’s, their fingers lacing with ease. He snuggled in, Tony’s warmth lulling him into a sleep haze.

----

The fact that Tony didn’t leave the next morning spoke volumes – Peter didn’t do a lot of dating, but he understood wanting to spend time with someone. They made pancakes that were barely edible and talked about Tony’s travels through Paris the previous two years. He’d been traveling with an international company that did a long stint in France. When it came time for Tony to leave and get some practice in for the day, Peter went with him.

It took on a different sort of intimacy, shooting Tony after that. Because he knew so much about the freckles on Tony’s skin and the way the dancer moved in the throes of passion, Peter could appreciate the thrust of his hips and the powerful strides for a completely different reason. It brought a whole new meaning to a long, slow seduction. They didn’t make it out of the locker room before Peter was on his knees, worshipping the cock and hips attached that moved with such poise and grace.

Spending the rest of the day together felt like the right thing to do after that – Tony came down his throat and watched with wide eyes as Peter stayed on his knees and stroked himself with a tight fist in long, quick strokes. The soft pet of his hair lulled him into a daze for a while, his cheek laying against the bottom of Tony’s stomach until he felt the tingle leave his toes and lower limbs.

Tony pulled him into a deep kiss when he stood up, strong arms wrapped around him and his swift tongue chased the taste of his own spend in Peter’s mouth. Peter didn’t know who was moaning but it was almost enough to bring him back to full hardness, though, he knew he couldn’t handle any more time on the hard floor or any of the surfaces available to them there. Suggesting a late lunch made Tony smile and when he grabbed Peter’s hand on the way out of the building, Peter let the hope of things actually going somewhere wash over him.

So, maybe Peter couldn’t dance on his own 2 feet anymore – with Tony by his side, he quickly learned that dancing was just as much a feeling as it was a collection of movements and lifts. Lying in bed with Tony between his legs later that night, Peter figured out that the roll of his hips and the caress of his hands felt just as good as the carefully crafted choreography that he’d be so accustomed to. The same way his body used to take the crowd apart, Peter slowly tugged at Tony’s seams until the dancer was thrusting into him with abandon. His name on Tony’s lips at the end of their coupling the ultimate standing ovation.

And as the days past and Peter got to spend more time not only wrapped up in the fun of watching someone else succeed, but also in the beauty and grace that was Tony Stark. The spring brought Bourne’s version of Swan Lake, which consisted of an all-male cast. Peter, having decided that NYCB was where the most opportunities were available, applied and got the job as the full-time photographer. Which meant he got to spend all of his day shooting ballet and only ballet. An absolute dream come true.

Watching Tony dance the part of the prince was absolutely magical – between trying to catch all of the best shots and catching every single one of his pristine moves, Peter spent all 7 days of multiple shows trying to capture him in the best possible way. They hadn’t been dating all that long, but Peter was moved to make sure Tony understood how he truly saw him.

It took a few weeks to find the perfect picture and get it blown up and printed to perfection. After getting it in the mail, Peter measured and built a custom frame for the photo – the dark brown wood a beautiful contrast to the white costume Tony was wearing in the print. Finally finishing it a couple of weeks into May, Peter stepped back and looked at the physical manifestation of his heart with a critical eye. It was Tony – Peter had a hard time finding any sort of flaw.

His ears prickled when he heard Tony putting his key in the lock – a couple of months prior, Peter pulled out one of his old TISCH key chains and made a copy of his apartment key. He left it in Tony’s pointe shoes and got a screaming call when he didn’t notice – the tip of the key stabbed him; but, the sincerity of the gesture made the large cut he had to nurse for a couple of weeks totally worth it.

He waited until he heard the keys clatter against the bowl that Peter kept right by the door to pick up the frame and carry it out into the living room where Tony was standing, his feet and arms bare, his dance tights still framing his legs in the sinful way they always did. Peter stopped dead in his tracks when Tony noticed him, the man’s dark brown eyes caught between looking at Peter’s face and the big frame he had in his hands.

“What’s that?” Tony asked, his cheeks coloring at the bluntness of the question. The man might’ve been a few years older than Peter, but he never failed to project youth and reckless wonder. The words made Peter laugh, his face spreading wide with the smile overtaking him. Instead of answering right away, Peter closed the gap and jammed the frame into Tony’s arms.

Peter gave him a few minutes to get his bearings and process what was in front of him. In the many days’ worth of searching, Peter finally decided on a picture of Tony in the middle of a leap. His eyes and chin were up, his hips completely square – but the thing that really caught Peter’s eye was the look of pure happiness of Tony’s face. There were many dancers that could get their legs completely straight through a leaping straddle, but there weren’t many that looked to be in absolute rapture when they did it. Every time he passed by it, the look made his heart pound, so he figured that was sign enough.

Tony looked up at him, his eyes wide. “This is what I look like, huh?” Tony asked, his fingers doing the customary reaching out to touch thing they always did. Peter watched him trace the length of his body across the glass – the idea of fingerprints not even registering. The appreciation of his work never meant so much.

“Beautiful, right? I thought, for a really long time, that I’d never really have the same connection with dance that I did when I actually got to do it myself. Then, I met you and got to see talent and passion in a totally different light. I don’t need to be moving to feel what it’s like to be on the stage when I watch you. Maybe it’s because I love you so much and I’m biased, but I’m a fan – your biggest one, probably.” Peter let all of the words flow from him before stopping for a breath. He felt his lips slip into a beaming smile – it felt so damn good to let that off his chest.

Even the very first ‘I love you’ between them felt good coming from him – he didn’t need Tony to say it out loud to know that he loved him. It was apparent in the way he touched, his fingers were constantly seeking – whether it was knowledge or pleasure, Tony was always interested in finding out. It was glaringly obvious in the way bourbon hued eyes followed him around the room when they weren’t standing together and looked so deeply within his own when they were. His gentle words and the innate ability to know just what Peter needed said things that a singular phrase never could.

Yet, when it came from Tony’s lips, Peter couldn’t have imagined a better moment. “You’re a big softy, Petey,” Tony mumbled, his lips pressing together for a second before continuing. “I love you, too. By the way. I know you know, but I also know how good the words sound. I love you. I’ll say it however many times you want to hear it.” As elegant as always, Tony moved to lean the frame against the edge of the couch to free his hands up, then tugged Peter into them, their lips finding each other in a soft kiss.

“I don’t think there’s a limit, Tony,” Peter muttered, his voice scratchy from the rush of arousal and happiness and a billion other things.

Tony gripped his cheeks and pulled him in for another kiss, his next words said against his lips like a prayer – “sounds okay to me.”

----

Later that year, Peter and Tony stumbled through their apartment after opening night of The Nutcracker. As a veteran this year, Tony wowed the audience in a way that only someone seasoned and comfortable could. The performance was flawless, Peter a little disappointed that he couldn’t show his enjoyment as much as he would have wanted to. The second they got behind the door of his car, however, his hands were all over Tony. They almost didn’t make it into the house before Peter was straddling him and really letting his appreciation show.

They fumbled through the door and passed through the living room that was littered in Peter’s work – when they first hung the few framed photos of Tony, he complained about it being a little weird. Yet, the more Peter added to it, the more Tony seemed to be behind the idea. It just took a little prodding for him to play into the narcissism that all dancers were inherently in possession of. He really started to relax when Peter added a few of the two of them, the idea of looking up to see physical representation of their connection a nice one, one that they both wanted to get behind.

Peter let his eyes glance over them briefly before crowding against Tony’s back and herding him towards the bedroom. All of the walls on the walk there were covered in Peter’s work – his own narcissism showing in the diligent way he went about making sure all of the frames throughout the house matched and looked absolutely perfect.

When they moved in together, Tony wanted to go all in, so they got all new stuff and created something that was joint and completely Tony Stark and Peter Parker mixing all the aspects of their lives. From the bedding to the bowls they ate out of, everything was picked out together.

When he was finally able to settle between Tony’s legs with just his boxer briefs on, Peter sucked in a deep breath and gave himself a second to enjoy the man stretched out beneath him. The strain from the night’s performance had Tony’s muscles taut and his veins bulging from lack of water and electrolytes – he’d be ravenous for the next few days.

His eyes were wide and completely glazed over, the pupils taking over the bourbon Peter so eagerly drank in every time he looked in Tony’s eyes. The hands that were normally so sure of themselves were reaching to touch Peter searchingly, their next step still undetermined.

Allowing himself to share a heated look with Tony, Peter shook his head and forced himself to focus – there was plenty of time to get distracted in the beautiful view of his boyfriend later. He sat up a little and reached into his bedside table, the lube and condom hitting the comforter below them, the movement enough of a decoy for Peter to get the square box he’d been hiding there open and on the muscled expanse of Tony’s chest.

They weren’t traditional, so he bypassed the one knee thing – instead, he pressed his body weight into Tony, one of his hands holding the box so he could see it while the other ran through shower wet brown hair. It wasn’t the most romantic thing, but it felt right. Everything about Tony felt right. A forever of that was the only thing he’d ever want.

“If you’ll have me, I’d like to be your number one fan forever. Please, marry me,” Peter whispered, his nose caressing Tony’s as his lips pressed the words into any piece of stubbly skin he could reach. “Please,” he prompted again, the plea unneeded, but falling from his lips, anyway.

“How could I possibly say no to that?” Tony asked, his response coming with a quick lift of his head and warm lips pressed against Peter’s. His hands moved into the long hair at the base of Peter’s neck, fingers tugging lightly.

“Put that ring on me so I can find out how it looks against your skin while I’m holding you down.” Shooting him a wink, Tony dragged him in for a deep kiss, the box on his chest momentarily forgotten.

#starker #ironspider #it's the colours you have #starkerfestivalsevents #bobbie writes

50 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years ago

Text

You’re my best friend; John Deacon x reader

*Author’s note*

Okay wow I can’t believe I almost missed this deadline but I had this story already up on my Wattpad for the past 2 months so I wanted to transfer it once this deadline came. This is for @writing-of-a-british-bitch‘s 1k challenge and I asked to do the “Your my best friend” song choice.

Now some things had transpired between joining this contest and the time I decided to write it and I really needed to get this pain out. As some of you may know from a post over 2 months ago, I lost my baby black kitty Sassy to Kidney failure. And I realize this was meant to be a fluff fic but I couldn’t help but really write this fic in memory of my baby girl. So some fluff and angst but sadly mostly angst is in this fic. So I apologize if I kinda went back on my word Phoebe but I hope this is still okay for your contest.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queendeakyy

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@kairosfreddie

@dancingcoolcat

@geek-and-proud

____________________________________________________________

Kidney Failure. Those are two words that no pet owner wants to hear. My beautiful baby girl Sassy had officially been diagnosed with Kidney failure as well as Kidney stones. At first with her not eating I thought she was just being a little stubborn, then after doing some scary research on why senior cats won't eat, it showed signs of her dying. Then after seeing her cough up some blood early one morning before I wanted to go see a movie, I was told by my parents to take her straight to the vet.

And since I was dealing with this all alone, I was forced to be told by myself and suffer for a full day of the news of my precious black kitty. I had gotten her 15 years ago shortly after my first cat Missy died. She was rescued by an independent rescue woman who had a house full of cats, out of thousands of cats she had, a small, tiny and very skittish kitten stood out of all the rest. Even though at the time my mom wanted a white cat with blue eyes and pink ears, we fell in love with this cute little girl, and I named her Sassy after the cat from Homeward Bound.

For years she was always the skittish girl. Anytime a doorbell would ring, she'd rush out and hide all day. But she was the sweetest cat anyone could ask for. I would always bring her up into my room whenever things got too stressful in my life, or I just wanted to be with her. I'd put her on my bed and just let her sleep there for all hours of the day.

As time went on, she even came to my own rescue like when I got my wisdom teeth removed and I had to recover up in my room. The first night, Sassy had actually came up into my room willingly, hopped right on my bed and slept right beside me for about 3 hours. She's my baby and now she's suffering the same fate my male cat did just several years ago.

My girl's always been the one with health problems throughout her life. First it was the UTI's, then bladder stones, and now she has to take some pills for her thyroid for the rest of her life (she's been on the thyroid pills for roughly about 3 years now), but this—this just blows everything out the window cause now it's evident that she's possibly coming close to the end of her days.

The vet told me what all needed to happen, a couple days of IV to get her fully hydrated, some anti-biotics, and just keeping her as comfortable as possible. So she went through the two days of IV, she's currently on the antibiotic and just has 3 more days to take it while still taking her thyroid pills (I now had to resort to giving it to her liquidly through a syringe since she no longer does the pill pockets anymore).

I don't wanna lose my baby girl. She's my life, my baby, my best friend and I—I don't know what I'm gonna do when the time comes for her when she finally.....

"(Y/n)?" I looked up and there was my dad.

"Hey dad."

"Sweetie, how are you doing? Really?" he said as he came into my room and sat down by my bed.

"I—I'm scared dad. I don't wanna lose my girl. On top with all the stress of trying to find a job, I just can't even focus on anything else but my baby girl."

"I know, I know sweetie." He brought me closer for a hug and I allowed the tears to softly fall down my face. "Maybe—you should get out of the house. Go see those friends of yours, isn't that offer for you to join them at the farm still available?"

"But dad I don't wanna leave Sassy behind. What if she dies while I'm away? That's already what happened to both Hudson and Missy because of school. And I promised that if it ever came Sassy's time I wouldn't allow anything to keep me away from her."

"But if you just solely keep focused on her, you're only gonna make yourself sick. What you need now is time to yourself, spend it with your friends, maybe they can help you out. Maybe even John can help you see. Cause at this rate I feel like you'll only listen to that boyfriend of yours." I softly chuckled as he did to.

"I think I'll just surprise them. They always drop by unannounced at my place either way." He chuckled and said.

"Whatever you want to do. I will watch Sassy for you and make sure she's comfortable. And I promise you if anything does happen, I'll give you a call."

"Thanks dad. I'm glad you came back early."

"Of course. Sassy's important to all of us." I nodded. "You get some sleep now okay sweetie, you've got a long drive ahead of you." I nodded again as my dad kissed the top of my head and gave me a big bear hug.

Once he left my room after shutting my door, I lay there on my bed and allowed the tears to continue to fall as I silently cried myself to sleep.

A few hours later I was on the open road heading towards Rockfield farm where my friends and boyfriend John Deacon. Oh yeah I forgot to mention, John Deacon of Queen is my long time boyfriend. We got together roughly at around Year 10 of secondary school, and even though we ended up going to different colleges, we still kept close to each other with visits and holiday stuff.

In fact, I was the one who convinced him to try out for Queen since I had Freddie Mercury in an art class of mine. And he just decided to take me in as his best friend since we both loved cats (the first time I showed him a picture of my two furbabies he was hooked and wanted to know everything about them).

So I introduced John to the band when Fred told me they needed a new bassist, he auditioned and—the rest was history. As mentioned earlier they were currently at Rockfield farm studios recording their next album 'A Night at the Opera'. Deacy had offered the chance for me to tag along as moral support/citizen critic but when I told him that I was worried about Sassy, he understood but kept the offer open in case I changed my mind.

After what felt like an eternity of driving I finally arrived at the farm just a little bit after 10:30am. I parked the car right next to a blue beetle and got out of my car after shutting off the engine. I looked around the place and saw that it was definitely far out of civilization and distractions, maybe this could be what I needed.

"(Y/n)?" I heard a voice say. I turned around and wearing a pink woman's top and white pants holding a cigarette between his fingers was none other than Freddie Mercury.

"Hey Fred."

"Oh darling it's been so long come here!" I walked over to him as he tossed the cigarette aside into the gravel and extended his arms out. I was then given the biggest bear hug that Freddie is known to give. "Why didn't you tell us we were coming?"

"Figured I surprise you all. You're not pissed are you?"

"Absolutely not dear, a visit from you is like seeing an angel grace our presence. And maybe this time Deacy can pick up the slack." I softly giggled as we separated from each other. "So how are things at home? Deacy said poor Sassy was feeling under the weather, how is the little dear?" at that point I grew sad again. "(Y/n)? Dear was it something I said?"

"Freddie I—the reason I came here was because of Sassy. She's—not doing so good." At that point his face grew worried.

"Come darling, let's sit on the porch swing and talk. You look like you're about to burst into tears." He wrapped an arm around me as we walked towards the front porch of the house and sat down on the cushioned porch swing. Freddie sat to my left and said, "Now then darling, tell me everything." I took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him.

"Last Sunday Mary and I were planning on going to see a movie, but as I was getting around I had seen Sassy laying near where she had just spit up, but what scared me was that there was blood mixed with the phlegm that she had puked up. So I called Mary and told her I had to take her to the vet, they ran some tests on her and......" I sniffled and felt the tears starting to come back. "Freddie she's suffering from kidney failure." He gasped in horror as he covered his mouth with his hand.

"Oh my god......(y/n) I—I'm so sorry dear. Oh come here you." He brought me close into his chest and tears once again began to fall down my face. "Oh my poor dear, I can't imagine what you must be feeling. If it were one of my darlings, I'd be feeling just as heartbroken as you. How—how long has she got?"

"Well thankfully the doctor said if we just keep an eye on her. Cause she's still drinking water, going to the bathroom, and eating when she wants to she could live a little while longer. But Freddie—she's 6lbs now and every time you hold her—you can just feel her bones. It's like picking up a stuffed animal at this point."

"Oh the poor little darling. Does she still walk?"

"Yeah she can still walk, but she—she drags her back legs or stumbles around before just giving up. We're trying to keep her on the main level of our house trying to limit the amount of times of her going either up or down the stairs. Sometimes she'll eat twice a day, sometimes it'll take her well over 24 hours before she eats again."

"Okay. So what all have you done for her?"

"Well she had to do 2 days of IV to get her rehydrated. Now she's on an antibiotic for the next ten days, she'll be done with it in three days so my dad's gonna finish it all off. He said I needed a break from all the stress cause along with her being sick and me struggling to find a job, I've barely been able to keep myself together."

"Your dad's a smart man. Cause dear no offense but you really look like shit."

"Gee thanks Freddie." I sassed back sarcastically.

"Now, now I don't mean any offense by it. I'm just—"

"I know what you mean Fred. Its just—I don't wanna lose my baby girl. I know she's getting older hell she's 16 years old. But I—I don't wanna lose my baby just yet. Not when my life is fully about to begin."

"I know darling, I know." He comforted me as he rubbed my back. I felt him kiss the crown of my head. "Listen to me, okay? You gave that beautiful black cat the best 16 years of her life. And who knows maybe she'll tough it out and stick with you for another 3 years. She knows you love her, and knows that you are doing everything to take care of her."

"You truly are the cat guru Freddie."

"Well comes with experience. But I've seen for myself the love you've given that precious thing. And, god forbid, when the day does come for her to move on, she'll have you to thank for being the best mummy cat she's ever had. And loved her even with her being the skittish thing that she was. Cause other than you, I would've been the only one to see the potential in her."

"Yeah she was a precious thing when I saw her and briefly got to play with her when she was just a kitten." Freddie wiped my tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and he asked me.

"Feeling any better?"

"A little. Thanks Freddie. It takes a cat parent to understand just what I'm going through."

"I'm always here for you dear. And hey, just so you know, my furbabies are your furbabies. They love you just as much as your own do, so anytime you need to come over, they'll be happy to see you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Shall I get Deacy?"

"Actually I would like to come in, I've been driving since 1am this morning and I could really use a bed right now."

"Or is it just so you and Deacy can—"

"Get your mind out of the gutter you rotter!" he chuckled and said.

"Of course dear, come in come in I'll grab your bags." I went to protest but he stopped me, "No darling I will not take no for an answer." He grabbed my suitcases and we entered inside the house.

It was a charming little house of sorts with old knick-knacks, pictures whether painted or old photographs, and completely wooded interior. Kinda reminded me of my grandparent's place a little bit, a true country home.

"My darlings, we've got a surprise visitor with us to—" Freddie announced as we came into the kitchen. "Oh fuck seriously Roger? I thought I heard a crash but never did I think you'd go that far."

"What else do you expect Fred? Brian said my song wasn't strong enough so I figured I'd show him if this was strong enough!!"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have come after all." I made myself known. At that point Deacy popped right out of his seat and rushed right over towards me and embraced me. I hugged him back and buried my face into his neck. God every time I got a hug from the love of my life, I was already happy and at home with him.

"Why didn't you call and tell me you were coming?"

"And miss the surprise look on your face? I don't think so." He chuckled before separating from me to cup the side of my face. I felt his calloused thumb stroke my cheek gingerly and he placed a soft kiss to my brow.

"Ugh it's too early for you guys to act all lovie-dovie!" Roger complained.

"Oh put a sock in it Rog!" I sassed at him.

"It really is good to see you here (y/n). so what brought on this surprise visit?" asked Brian. My smile dropped and I solemnly looked down.

"My love?" Deacy asked concerned.

"Deacy dear why don't you take (y/n) downstairs to your room and get her situated. She could really use some sleep right now, then come back up and I'll explain everything." Freddie set my stuff down and went up to Brian and Roger and wrapped his arms around their shoulders to guide them out of the kitchen.

"What's he talking about love?"

"It's—the reason why I'm here isn't a happy reason. I wish it was but I—"

"Okay, okay, okay relax. Calm down my love. Come on let's go downstairs, though I must warn you the room isn't very big."

"I'll take whatever it is Johnny." He grabbed my suitcases as wrapped an arm around me as he guided me towards the basement stairs.

And boy was he ever right. How could my beloved possible sleep in a room this cramped, not to mention cold? He set my stuff right by his before guiding me to the bed. He sat down close to me and said.

"Do you want to tell me? Or should I go up to see Freddie?"

"I—I can tell you."

"You sure?" I nodded. "Alright, if you say so. But before you speak, take a couple of deep breaths with me, okay?" he slowly breathed in and I followed behind him. We held our breath for three seconds before slowly exhaling out for five. We did this together over and over and over again till finally I was ready to tell him, and I told him everything in regard to Sassy.

As I explained everything, every now and then I would stop because I could feel tears springing in my eyes. Jesus just when I thought I had cried my last tear, they still keep coming. But my sweet, loving John had tissues at the ready and he would hand me one to wipe my face, before sitting himself even closer to me resting his head on top of mine while his arms were wrapped around me rubbing either my back or arms comfortingly.

"Oh my love. You should've called me as soon as you were told the news. You know I would've dropped everything just to be with you, to comfort you through this." He said once I had finished telling him everything.

"I didn't want to disturb you John. This album is really important to Queen and I—didn't want to distract you."

"Fuck the album, you're my first priority."

"John."

"I mean it (y/n). if you ever asked me to leave the band I will."

"You know I would never ask that of you."

"I know, I'm just saying I would. I just—I just hate the fact that I had to let you get the news alone. I knew your dad left to spend time with your mum for their anniversary together which left you to take care of Sassy and Phoebe, and to get such news all on your own." He kissed my cheek and softly stroked my cheek.

"Why are you so good to me?"

"Your my best friend, (y/n). I'll always be good to you." He leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss. I cupped the side of his face before separating from him and pressing my forehead to his while I felt his nose graze against mine.

I then wrapped my arms around his neck while I felt his arms wrap around my waist. He pulled me close to him so that I practically sitting on his lap. I felt his hand rub comforting circles on my back before slowly leaning back. The slightly rickety bed creaked and it was definitely a tight squeeze, but we somehow made it work with me practically lying on top of him, our legs tangled up with each other's and my head resting against his chest.

"God how did you manage to sleep on this tiny bed?" I asked.

"Trust me it's not easy. But somehow I've managed."

"The boys didn't boot you down here did they?"

"No, Paul actually gave me this room. Said that small ones don't get nearly as cold."

"Aww Deacy I'm so sorry." I cupped his jawline to which he nuzzled against my hand and gave my palm a kiss.

"Not your fault. But how are you, really (y/n)."

"Truthfully my head is literally killing me."

"Probably from dehydration from all the crying you must've been doing." He said as I felt him stroke down my hair. He kissed my forehead and set me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water and snacks for you. Gotta get you rehydrated and eating again." He pecked my nose and I smiled at him.

"Thank you Johnny."

"Anytime my love. Stay here, I'll be right back." He brushed the hair out of my face before giving me a soft peck before heading upstairs. I sighed and rested my head onto the pillows and inhaled John's scent from his shampoo that I had bought for him. It gave me a sense of comfort even while he was gone for a brief moment.

He came back down with a bottle of water and a couple bags of crisps.

"You really went all out didn't you?" I teased.

"Well if I know you, I know that when you get really sad, you tend to skip meals. And I know this isn't really the best thing for you to eat right now, but it's all we've got since Roger knocked down the leftovers bitching about his car song."

"His car song?"

"It's better if you don't ask." He sat down on the floor beside me and laid out the bags of crisps then unscrewed the bottle cap of water before placing the straw in. He held it out to me and I took a sip of it. After taking a long drink, he set it down on the nightstand right beside the bed and opened up one of the bags of crisps and proceeded to feed me.

"I can feed myself you know."

"I know, but you've been under a lot of pressure lately. With the unsuccessful job hunts as well as Sassy being sick, the least I can do is pamper you my darling. Now c'mon open up." He guided a potato crisp towards my mouth and I opened my mouth as he popped it inside my mouth.

Deacy kept on feeding me as well as giving me sips of water. Finally after feeling full from the crisps, he set them aside and crawled back into the bed with me.

"Wait, don't you have some recording to do?"

"I talked to the guys about it, I'm gonna stay here and take care of my baby today."

"No Deacy I—I'll just delay your schedule......"

"It's already said and done love, besides Freddie insisted that I stay with you. I can make up my bits tomorrow." I looked up at him and said.

"Thank you Deacy, it—this means a lot. Really, with Sassy being—"

"Shhhh, shhh. Just sleep my love. You really need it." He whispered as he gingerly stroked my cheek with the back of his fingers. I closed my eyes and cuddled close to him, his hand tucked underneath my shirt and I felt his nails gently stroke up and down my back comfortingly. The mixture of his scent, his breathing and his heartbeat was like a lullaby that soothed me to sleep.

A week later, I was starting to feel a bit better than I had back at home. Deacy and the boys provided the perfect distraction, Freddie gave me a mini piano lesson as he was practicing his latest masterpiece that he deemed was going to change music forever, Brian and I would take pictures of the guys whether for his scrapbooking or just out of plain goofiness, and Roger—well Roger spent three days in a cupboard but at least he was still willing to talk to me even through the cupboard.

And of course Deacy was an angel with the warm cuddles and bass playing. I've always found comfort in seeing him play the bass, he was in his element and it was amazing to see him break out of the shy exterior and just be him. I was laying on the couch in the studio and he was fiddling around with his bass.

"Can you play me something?" I asked. He looked up and he asked.

"What would you like me to play? Liar? White Queen?"

"Do you think you can give me a sneak peek at a song from this album?"

"Well legally I'm not allowed to but....off the record if there were no Prenter nor sound engineer to be around." He stated as he got up and went over to the sound station and flipped a couple of switches.

"You clever, devious man." I giggled.

"That's why you love me. C'mere." I got up from the couch and went up to the chair he was now sitting at. He extended his hand as I got closer to him and I took his hand. He then had me sit down on his lap and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. "This was finished the night before you came to the farm. I.....I had you in mind when I was writing it."

"Oh god Deacy please tell me it's nothing like Misfire was."

"No not this time. I promise, and in a way....you can think of this song as yours and Sassy's song." He turned on the switch and soon playing through the speakers was an electric sounding instrument. "That's me on the electric piano."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Fred wanted absolutely no part of it so I sat down all night learning how to play it so that I could have it ready for recording." I awed at him and he gave me a peck to my temple and I soon heard the magnificent vocalizations of all four of my boys singing at once, their voices backtracked by their own voices making it sound like there was an entire choir backing them up. Freddie's god-like voice singing the gentle melody of the words.

"What's it called?"

"You're my best friend." He lay my head on his shoulder and the two of us listened to the song together. I'll admit the lyrics did fit Sassy to a T. She has been there for me before in the past and she was always the one I turned to when things got rough and no one else was there for me.

When the song finally ended, I turned to John and hugged him, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"That is literally the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you John."

"I'm glad you liked it love."

"Like? Deacy 'like' doesn't even begin to describe what this song meant to me. You and Sassy are both my best friends."

"And I'm happy to share you, even if it is with a feline." I giggled and playfully nudged his shoulder which made him chuckle. "God I've really missed seeing you smile."

"What are you talking about? I've been smiling the whole time I was here."

"Oh you mean the ones that don't reach up to your eyes, the smiles that don't make your eyes twinkle and a laugh come out of that beautiful mouth of yours. Yeah those were real smiles." He sassed sarcastically.

"Okay smartass. Maybe I've—still been depressed about not being with my girl."

"And there's nothing wrong with missing her. But you also need to learn to take care of yourself as well. You looked absolutely exhausted when you first arrived, it was like you'd hardly slept a wink." I looked down shamefully. "I just want you to realize that in order for you to be there for Sassy, you also need to learn to take care of yourself. Do you understand what I'm trying to say my love?"

"Yes Deacy, I understand. I'm sorry."

"Hey, you've got no reason to be sorry. You caring about Sassy this much proves that you're a good cat mum. And maybe in the future, you'll be the same way with our own child." I smiled through a choked sob. I buried my face into John's neck as I felt his hand go underneath my shirt and once again stroking my bare skin sending comforting shivers up my back.

"I love you so much John Deacon."

"I love you so much too (y/n) (l/n)." I looked up at him and he smiled down at me softly and kissed the center of my forehead, the tip of my nose, both cheeks then finally a soft and loving kiss to my lips. "Besides, I always knew one surefire way to get that beautiful smile on your face." Oh shit.

I immediately got off his lap and went back to the couch and held the pillow out in front of me.

"Why ever did you flee from me my love?" he asked in a mocked hurt tone.

"Not another step Deacon. I know what your method is and you're not doing it."

"Whatever do you mean?" oh that little rotter he was taunting me.

"Don't make me say it Deacy!" I begged as I buried my body into the covers leaving only my head to the outside world.

"Well you're gonna have to cause all I'm doing is walking towards you and all you're doing is trying to hide yourself under the blankets and pillows." He continued to taunt as he now hovered over me, his body pinning mine to the couch.

"Deacy no!" I whined.

"No what?"

"Deacy!"

"You're gonna have to specify what I can't do my darling." He cupped the side of my face after tucking some hair behind my ear and captured my lips in a seductive kiss. He almost had me under his spell, that was until I felt him squeeze my sides through the blanket. I squealed and tried to buck him off me but he stayed on top of me. "My, my, my, what have we here?"

"John I swear to god I'll kill you if you do it."

"Do what? All I did was just graze your sides and you just reacted to it. Now what do they call that thing again when people get so sensitive to a light touch?" he pondered.

My god this little shit was good. He was trying to force me to say it.

"John please!" I begged to him with the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

"Aww look at you pleading and begging with those eyes, it's so adorable. But it won't stop me. Now answer my question." I felt him squeeze my sides again and I let out a soft shrieked laugh. "God if I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't want me to......"

"Tickle me!" I blurted out.

"What a wonderful idea! You always were terribly ticklish." I then pushed him off of me and decked out of the recording studio and began racing around the barn.

I went inside the barn and tried to duck through or go around any beams I could find.

"You're not going to escape from me (n/n). You know you were always the slowest runner."

"Shut up Deacon! It's cause you always cheated with those long legs of yours!" I snapped as I ducked through the hay storage bin before getting out on the other side.

Deacy continued to chase after me for what felt like forever. And I don't know when they became involved or why they chose to do it, but somehow Roger and Freddie got involved with the chase and I was soon tackled out in the field by Roger and he was the first to start tickling me before Freddie then finally my boyfriend Deacy joined in the attack.

The three of them tickling me non-stop till I was red in the face and could barely breathe. Fred and Rog would've gone on forever had John not stopped them and forced them to let me breathe. Once I was able to catch my breath, I turned towards the two troublemakers and said.

"Where.....in the hell.....did you two.....come from?"

"From London." Freddie bluntly shrugged.

"I know that smartass. I meant during the chase." I groaned.

"Oh that well when we saw Deacy chasing you, Fred and I just want in on the action. It didn't matter what we had to do, just as long as it got you to smile kid." Roger said as he gave my hair a ruffle, messing it up.

"Roger! Rog you're messing up my hair!" I said as I tried to get his hand off my head but he would keep putting it back on top and messing my hair up even further.

"But you've got to admit darling, we did get you to smile that fabulous smile that can only be compared to Mary's." said Freddie as he wrapped an arm around me. "Plus didn't that help you just a little bit?"

"Yeah I guess so. Thanks guys, for real this week has—literally been a life saver. I think I'm ready to head back home tomorrow."

"What so soon? But darling we were just having so much fun!" whined Freddie as he brought me close to his chest.

"Plus you help lessen the stress that Prenter causes us." Said Rog.

"And the stress we cause each other. You sure you can't stay a bit longer?"

"Sorry Deacy, I gotta get back to my girl." He rubbed my back and said.

"Okay. Just—promise to call me in case anything happens. You know I'll gladly drop things here to be with you." I cupped the side of his face and stared at him lovingly.

"I'll even allow us to take time off the album so that all of us can be there for you darling." Fred said I turned towards him and Roger and saw that Roger nodded agreeing with both Fred and Deacy.

"You guys—how did I ever get lucky to have such good friends like you all?"

"You've honestly been a blessing to us dear. Never doubt that." Soon I was in a group hug with the front man, the drummer and the bassist of Queen.

The next morning I was all packed up and was hugging the guys goodbye and thanking them for helping me out this past week. I had just gotten done hugging Rog and Bri and I was now at Freddie. He smiled at me and embraced me tightly and he said in my ear.

"You be sure to call us with any updates Sassy's got."

"I will I promise." He separated from me and kissed both my cheeks.

"Drive safe (y/n) dear."

"Will do Fred." I then turned towards the love of my life, my best friend. He held his arms out and I immediately went into them and hugged him back.

"I'm so glad that you came to visit love. Drive safely back home, and call me whenever you get there."

"I will, promise me you'll continue to work hard on the album."

"Will do love." He kissed me but it was shortly interrupted by Prenter exclaiming.

"Enough of this already the boys need to get back to work!"

"Alright Prenter that's it come here!" Roger then charged after Prenter which made John and I laugh softly.

"Should we try to stop him?" I asked.

"Nah, let him take his prey. Besides he deserves it, Prenter's an arsehole anyway." He kissed my temple softly before hugging me one last time. I got into my car and waved goodbye to the guys one last time before taking off back down towards the main road.

Three days later after returning from the farm, I was back at home just waking up for the day. I once again saw Sassy lying there on the couch just like she was last night. I sighed and went up to Sassy and pet her and she shot her head up and looked at me.

"Hey baby girl, ready for your medicine?" she just looked at me before laying her head down. I went over to the sink and prepped the water bottle cap (at this point she had stopped taking the pill pockets, and since I could no longer force it down her, I resorted to liquidating the ¼ pill).

After waiting a couple of minutes I sucked the water into a syringe and walked back over to the couch. Gently as I could, I picked her up and she let out a weak meow.

"I know baby, I know. But this is just the water one this time. You got done with the antibiotic awhile ago." I placed the syringe into her mouth and she weakly opened her mouth but was still able to take in the water. Once she took it all in, I kissed her and took her over to the water bowl cause I knew she probably drink any water since last night. "Here we go baby, drink up."

I gently set her down and she merely just lay there for a moment before realizing where she was. Her head shot up and she reached her paw over the water bowl like how she normally drinks and went face first into the water, her usual way of drinking water.

Once she had her fill after lying down a few times before going back up again to drink some more. I picked her up once more and set her back down on the couch. Since it was a sunny day for the first time in a while, I decided to let my girl sunbathe, her favorite thing to do whenever the sun was out.

"Here you go little mama." I cooed as I stroked her head and kissed it. I then went back upstairs and got ready for the day. The phone rang and I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

'Hey sweetie. Whatcha doin?' it was my dad's voice.

"Oh just—getting around and all that."

'Ahh I see. How's our girl doing?'

"She's....hanging in there." I looked towards her to see her still breathing.

'Okay good, good. So what have you got on the agenda for today?'

"Well Mikaela is coming to pick me up and we're gonna hang out for my graduation/pre b-day plans."

'Ahh I see, what time is she coming over?'

"About 10ish."

'Okay well you girls have fun and I will talk at you later okay?'

"Okay daddy, love you."

'Love you too sweetie, bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and turned back towards my baby. I walked up to her and as I touched her, her paws twitched and she turned and looked up at me. "I love you so much baby girl." I kissed her head and she turned away from me. With a heavy sigh, I walked back upstairs and got around.

A couple minutes later at 10:07am I walked back downstairs to see Phoebe sitting up on the table looking at Sassy's food bowl that was there.

"Phoebe get down!" I snapped at her. She meowed as she hopped down and ran off. That's when I looked down to see the most horrifying sight I would ever see in my life.

Sassy's eyes were glazed over, and I couldn't see her breathing anymore.

"Sassy? Sassy? Sassy!" I touched her fur hoping to see her react but when he jaw went slacked, tears sprung in my eyes and I fell to my knees. I picked her up in my arms and held her close to me as I sobbed. "Sassy! No! No! No! Sassy please no!" I sobbed as I paced around the room hoping that she would wake up but all she did was lay limp against my shoulder. I placed her down on the loveseat to see if she would breathe again but she didn't.

Sassy was gone.

I ran up to the phone and dialed my dad's number and pleaded softly that he would pick up.

'Hello?' he asked.

"Daddy."

'Yeah?' his voice sounded concerned as soon as he heard the heartbreak in my voice.

"I think Sassy's dead!" I sobbed out.

'Oh my god our cat just died.'

"She was fine earlier as I said. She drank some water but when I came back downstairs I noticed that she's no longer breathing, her eyes are glazed over and she's just limp every time I hold her!"

'Okay, okay (y/n) calm down okay sweetie. Calm down. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to get her cat carrier and a towel.'

"Okay."

'Okay? Then put the towel in the cat carrier and then I want you to gently put her in and take her to the vet, okay? They'll work out the cremation process.'

"Okay."

'And sweetie listen to me. At least she died at home, okay? She passed away peacefully, safe and at home instead of a cold, strange metal table. Because I had to go through that with Hudson and it was not a pretty sight. It broke me, but you gave Sassy a happy life and even with you taking care of her on your own for a while she knew you loved her.' I choked out a sob and nodded.

"I know."

'Okay but go take her to the vet, I'll call your mom and she'll get in touch with the vet.' I nodded.

"Okay I'll take her to the vet."

'Okay now your mom will be available all day for you if you need to get in touch with her. I've got a meeting to get to in the next while. But call your mom anytime you need to talk.'

"Okay."

'Okay I love you sweetheart, it's gonna be okay. At least she's not suffering anymore and that she's now at peace.'

"Yeah."

'Alright sweetie, I love you so much.'

"I love you too."

'Bye.'

"Bye." I hung up the phone and proceeded to get her ready to take her to the vet one last time. I grabbed a towel from my bathroom and tucked it in her cat carrier. I looked down at my baby with tears pouring down my face. Once I got her in the cat carrier on her side, I quickly wrote a note for Mikaela and taped it to the door before finally rushing out to my car and race towards the vet.

When I got there, I stood there waiting for what felt like forever in the small vet clinic till finally one of the vet techs came in. She walked over to me, empathy in her eyes and she said.

"Your mum called and told us what happened. We'll get started with the cremation process, are there any questions you have for us?"

"Just.....just make sure that this is for real. I—don't wanna try anything unless I know it's for real."

"Okay." She took my cat carrier and walked into the back room. I sat down by the window trying to calm myself down. The doors opened and there stood my best friend Mikaela.

"Hey I got your message, are you okay?"

"I don't know dude. Thank god you're here though."

"Of course, of course." She sat down beside me and wrapped an arm around me. It was then the vet came in from the back room and he greeted me.

"She has passed away. Along with the kidney stones and failure, she also suffered a stroke." I covered my mouth with my hand and allowed the tears to pour down my face even more. "We can prep the cremation. Would you like the pawprint as well as her ashes or just the pawprint?"

"Just the pawprint." I replied.

"Okay, before we take her away would you like to see her?" I turned to Mikaela before turning back to the vet and said.

"Yes."

"Okay. Come back with me." I followed behind him and Mikaela told me she'd wait outside. I went through the back door and right there on the table I saw my baby girl lying right on her stomach, her front paws extended outwards and her eyes still glassed over, her fangs exposed as her jaw was still slightly lacked.

"Take all the time you need." the vet told me as one of the technicians came and covered up just her lower body. I nodded before leaning down and pet her one last time, trying to imprint her soft fur into my hand, and my memory.

"At least she died at home, where she was most happiest." Said one of the female vet technicians.

"Yeah. She—she was sunbathing on the couch. She always loved it when the sun was out and I would open up the blinds."

"Yeah. I'll bet she really appreciated it."

"It just—with all the health problems she's had throughout her life I just hoped that....."

"I understand. Especially with all that she had been through for the past week." I nodded before turning back to my baby girl. I knelt down and gave her one final kiss before finally saying.

"Okay. Okay I—I think I'm ready." Then another vet tech came up and fully covered up my baby girl forever, the final step in pronouncing her dead.

"We'll get in contact with your mom about the billing. Again we're so sorry for your loss." The same vet tech that I was talking to earlier about my baby girl.

"Thank you." I said thanks the vet techs as well as the vet for all that they've done for Sassy for her last 2 weeks of life. I walked out of the back room and Mikaela came up and hugged me as we left the vet.

When I got back home I called my mom and told her that she could take care of the billing. After that I said.

"I'm sorry about all this dude I know we had plans and all but—"

"No, no, no, no it's fine. Do—you wanna call John and tell him? Or do you want me to talk for you?"

"I think I can tell him. He loved Sassy as much as I did." I picked the phone up once more and dialed the number for the farm that Deacy gave me before they left. It rang about five times before I heard a voice say.

'Hello?' Oh god why did it have to be him?

"Paul. Can I speak to John please?"

'Oh (y/n) I'm afraid he's too busy to talk right now. Since you distracted the guys they're way behind schedule with the album. They have to work twice as long just to meet the upcoming deadline.'

'Oi Prenter why are you answering the phone!? Thought I told you that you weren't allowed to take calls anymore!' Roger's loud voice proclaimed. I then heard the signs of a struggle and Paul's painful cry as Roger's voice spoke up. 'Talk to me.'

"Rog."

'(Y/n), hey what's going on?'

"Is Deacy too busy to talk?"

'Oh absolutely not, hang on a second love okay? OI DEACY!!! YOUR GIRL'S ON THE LINE COME OVER HERE!' Once again there was silence before I heard John's voice at last.

'(Y/n)? What's going on love is everything okay?' my lip quivered as I gasped out a sob. '(Y/n)? Love you're scaring me.'

"She's gone Deacy." I choked out.

'Oh my god. (N/n) I—I'm so sorry. Was she—'

"On the couch in the sun. It was almost an hour ago."

'Jesus Christ. But (y/n) you were there for her like you always said you wanted to be, and she's no longer in any pain, she's at peace. And she's up in heaven with her brother and meeting her older sister. The cat you had before you got her.'

"I know. I'm—I'm sorry I'm distracting you—"

'No, no, no, no, no, no love shhh, shhh, shshshsh. You are by no means a distraction. I'm glad you called me (y/n). I wish I could be there with you right now holding you in my arms.'

"I want that too Deacy."

'Are you going to get the pawprint?'

"Yeah, it should be ready in a day or two."

'That's good. I love you so much my brave mama cat, you know that right?'

"I love you too. I just—wish you were here John."

'I know. I wish I was there too. Is anyone with you right now?'

"Mikaela is, and I—think I'm gonna call Mary."

'That's good. Surround yourself with those two right now since they know what's happening. Do whatever you feel like you need to do right now okay?'

"I will. I do know I wanna get out of the house. I can't...I just can't be in here."

'Okay then do that. Go to Biba, the record store, see a movie, whatever. Hey, it's gonna be okay, alright?'

"Okay. I just—I miss her so much Deacy."

'I know love, I know. I miss her too. Hey listen, I gotta go, the guys are looking at me wanting to know what's going on.'

"I'll let you go then. I maybe out the whole day but I'll give you a call later tonight, okay?"

'Okay my love. I'll talk to you soon. Call me anytime.'

"I will, bye Deacy."

'Bye my love.' I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

"You sure you wanna get out of the house? It's cool if you just wanna stay here."

"No Mikaela I just—I really can't be in this house anymore. I need to get away from here for a while."

"Okay, okay. But let's get you calm down first before we head on out, okay? I'll talk to Mary this time and you just sit down and drink some water." I nodded and walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle before sitting down at the kitchen table while Mikaela made the call to Mary and explained everything.

A little while later Mikaela told me that Mary is willing to meet us at the movies since we were planning on seeing that new shark movie that was out now. After recomposing myself and drying my eyes up to show no signs that I had been crying, Mikaela and I stepped out and drove on to meet Mary at the movie theater.

The whole day was spent having a girl's day out. Mary paid for our movie tickets (we chose a later showing than originally planned due to all of this), and then Mikaela paid for our lunch. When it got close to our movie time, we all drove back to the theater (thank god it was literally just across the street) and we got our seats.

For the next 2 hours the film JAWS both terrified and had me at the edge of my seat. By the end of the film when Chief Brody shot the shark, the entire audience actually applauded. After the film, we spent the rest of the afternoon doing a little shopping to help cheer me up until it got dark and I knew I had to get back in order to feed Phoebe.

Mikaela and Mary both came back to the house with me to bid me a final goodbye and to give their final condolences on my loss today. They told me that if I ever needed to talk about today or vent, cry or hang out I could always call them. I thanked them before finally entering back inside the house.

When I got inside, the first things I had noticed was that my hall lights were on and Phoebe was currently eating at her food bowl. At that point my heart started racing a bit because my dad was still at work by now since he had requested some overtime so I know that he'd usually would be on his way home but not here, here. I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs and that's when I was shocked to see Deacy coming down the stairs.

"I thought that might've been you. Had it been your dad it would've been awkward."

"Wha—but.....how are you....."

"Before you ask any questions, how are you feeling? Truthfully?" I looked down and sniffled.

"Heartbroken. I miss her Deacy! I miss my baby so much!"

"I know, I know sweetheart. I do too." He said as he immediately embraced me and rocked me back and forth. "Sassy will forever live in your heart and in your memories, you gave her a good life till the end. And she at least passed away in a peaceful, safe environment. She knew you were there and that you took care of her right to the end."

"It all just happened so fast I mean—she was diagnosed with kidney failure just short of 2 weeks and now she—"

"Shhhh, shh I know. I know. But there was nothing you could do love, there was nothing anyone could've done. She—she was an old cat and.....it was just meant to be her time now. You wouldn't want her to keep suffering would you?"

"Never."

"Exactly, no one does. I know it's selfish but she at least died here at home. And she'll be right there with you."

"I just wish she could've stuck around longer, till I at least found a job. It's stressing enough getting no responses cause of my lack of job experiences now I just....."

"I know love. I know. But you know you've got me right? I can be your stress reliever now, hmm? What do you say?" his nose gently grazed against mine. I sniffled and looked up at him to see him softly smile down at me, his eyes softly shining with empathy.

"Thank you Deacy. I'm happy you came back for me."

"I'll always come to you whenever you need me. You're my best friend (y/n)."

"And you're mine John Deacon." For the rest of the night Deacy pampered me with a warm bath filled with my favorite bath bombs and favorite scented candles. When the bath was done, he helped me into my favorite snuggly pj's before placing me on my bed and snuggling up close to me. My head resting over his chest and his arms wrapped around me snug and tight.

His hand rubbed my back comfortingly and every now and then I felt him kiss the crown of my forehead every time I sniffled or whimpered. Even though he always said he wasn't a singer, I heard him hum the tune to our song 'you're my best friend' and all the while I kept thinking of my baby girl.

50 notes · View notes

sparklyandchic · 5 years ago

Text

🦋 MINI MIND MAKEOVER 🦋

okay i started the idea for this mini little mind makeover when i broke up with my boyfriend in like january. instead of being sad or angry, i wanted to be grateful for this time and take it as an opportunity to make life better for myself. then quarantine happened, so some of these are related to things i’ve learned since that started. either way, these aren’t all concrete things to do for your mind; some of them are just ways of thinking or pep talks. but if you can find one little piece of information or thought that makes you a little bit happier for a moment, that’s all i can hope for!

5-htp: okay first off- please ALWAYS consult your psychiatrist or medical professional before taking a supplement! taking 5-htp with, for example, serotonin-increasing medications can lead to a fatal illness called serotonin syndrome. personally, i started taking it because i had been on 10 mg prozac for a few months. it definitely dulled a lot of my anxiety and had a lot of positive aspects to it, but it dulled them almost too much to the point where i felt apathetic and detached from myself and the situations i was in. i was in a very unhealthy relationship and felt like i needed my mental clarity and “overthinking” processes back in order to identify what i was feeling and how to deal with it. i felt a lot more “sensitive” after coming off it, which was actually really welcome for me at first, but then it sort of dropped off into withdrawals. i was having constant panic attacks and crying very often. after a while, i was debating going back on prozac, but remembered i had taken 5-htp before. 5-htp is an amino acid that is a direct precursor to serotonin being produced in the brain. when u eat turkey, tryptophan is converted into 5-htp which leads to your brain producing serotonin, thus why you feel calm and happy afterwards. after taking 5-htp for just a few days, ranging between 200-300 mg per day (again, do your research, ask your doctor, and start small) i stopped crying constantly and really felt this sense of calmness and wellbeing but without the detachment and apathy i felt with prozac. i could still think clearly but didn’t feel overly sensitive to every emotion which arose. personally, it is really a lifesaver and really does make a noticeable difference.

cognitive behavioral therapy: ive tried therapy a million times. well okay, like 5 or 6 different therapists. at its worst, therapists told me i needed to use my sexual power as a woman in order to get what i wanted from men, told me i’m bad at socializing and should do group therapy, said my mom shouldn’t have encouraged me to “be myself” when i was younger because it made me less likeable than if i had conformed to normal societal standards of dressing. i had gone to “therapists” who claimed to be trained in CBT, but when i told them about my experiences with dissociation, the only feedback i got was to “take more baths.” while going through a few unpleasant experiences in my personal life, i decided i should try CBT once more, but like the real kind. i found an ivy-league educated licensed psychologist (NOT a “licensed clinical social worker” who doesn’t even have a psychology degree!!) who SPECIALIZED specifically in cognitive behavioral therapy. just after the first session, i was so elated with my experience. as opposed to just telling me that i needed to be more normal or more kind or a better person, she tried to identify WHAT was making me feel that way about myself in the first place. she pointed out the positive things i do and reassured me i was kind, good, and deserving of good things. she pointed out many aspects of my situation that would have taken me days or weeks to come to on my own. i’ve realized my hubris isn’t that i’m not socially acceptable or not perfect enough, but its just that i tend to THINK that i am these things despite having no evidence of it. so, over time with therapy, my positive self image about who i am as a person has grown and strengthened and i dont just randomly feel like a bad human being anymore lol. moral of the story, if you wanna do therapy but it keeps sucking, dont give up. go to a legit psychologist, find someone who specializes in the type of therapy you’re seeking, and also be vocal during your sessions. stand up to your psychologist when they continually push a narrative onto you, and explain why you don’t agree with it. sometimes it’s their job to try different narratives to see what fits, and if you just passively let them say what they want to, you’ll never find the truth of your experience! it’s a communal effort! therapy isn’t usually a magic cure-all where one session fixes everything that goes awry in your brain. but if you find someone who knows what they’re doing they can in fact really help your thought processes become less twisted up and more clear and healthy.

meditation and mindfulness: a few weeks ago i felt anxious and overly driven to get things done to the point where i spiraled into a space of guilt or a panic attack over not getting enough things done. meditation can be so so helpful here. it’s better to spend an hour sitting and doing nothing, but doing it peacefully and then calmly moving on to doing something else, than to spend 5 hours stressing yourself over every single thing you need to get done and how much time you’re wasting. the things that need to get done will get done. another thing that i’ve realized and say to myself a lot is: “focus not on doing all things perfectly, but on doing the small things well.” by this i mean, stop thinking about the 20 things you need to get done and how it all needs to be perfect, but instead take your time with the task that presents itself as most beneficial right now and focus on enjoying it and giving your whole self to the process. for example, stop thinking about how you need to clean your room, your closet, donate clothes, take a shower, take out the trash, read, workout, etc. think to yourself; “which task would bring me the most joy right now?” if the answer is taking a shower, then take that damn shower. bring your speaker into the bathroom, scrub every inch of your scalp with shampoo, scrub your feet and behind your ears and your neck with body wash, brush the conditioner through your hair fully. you may end your shower with 19 other things to do, but god damn if you can’t enjoy a single one of them and be present for it, what’s the fucking point! go light a candle and bask in its glow, go make your bed and huddle up in your neatly arranged covers, go take a long bath or a thorough shower, and be proud of and content with that today.

relationships, with others and yourself: okay, if you missed the memo, my ex-boyfriend sucked. like genuinely was a bad person. he was a drug dealer, so that’s red flag number 1 (which i ignored of course), he hadn’t graduated high school (he was 18, i was 20, he was supposed to graduate the last semester but refused to do the work and ignored me and his mother when encouraged to do it, which is uhh definitely red flag number 2 which i also ignored), he habitually did not show up for dates on time or lied about what he was going to do or what he did (literally everything he did was a red flag and i rlly ignored all of it). the worst part was how he responded when i worked up the courage to speak to him about it. if we had agreed upon a time for our date but he showed up literally 8 hours late, he would blame it on me because i “could have called” him, or that i was “demanding too much of” him, or that i “should have said something earlier so now [i was] just dragging it out because it already happened.” basically, whatever narrative he pushed at me, i eventually gave into. i’ve dealt with gaslighting in a relationship before and a part of me knew what was happening to me, but a part of me also kept having hope for him, kept empathizing with him, kept wanting to believe in him. after a bit too much time, i finally realized you have to trust yourself, empathize with yourself, and believing in yourself over anyone else. at first i felt bad for him not being able to graduate because i had my own struggles with high school and getting work done. i thought he may have issues but he deserves someone to be there for him because i wanted someone to be there for me. despite the pain and stress he was causing me, i sat around crying over him because i cared about him and tend to over-empathize with people close to me, whether they deserve it or not. my therapist told me something that at first i did not understand, but over time came to grasp in its entirety: “some people do not deserve your love or kindness.” after our first session, my homework was to “consider when you are being kind and when you are being taken advantage of.” this made me realize that what feels like your instinctual nature to be nice to others, can in fact be a self-sabotaging unfair action, depending on the other person’s response. i might be dishing out a lot right now, but bear with me. think of it this way: you regard an action as a “kind action”. you might think “kind actions” include: forgiving someone for large mistakes, putting someone’s needs over yours, sparing them some change when they ask for it, listening to the problems they are dealing with every day. BUT when their actions include not forgiving you for minor mistakes, not giving a sh*t about your needs or considering them, not caring how much money they take from you and how much money you need to have around, or habitually glossing over your problems because it doesn’t benefit them to care, THEN those actions you performed are NOT “KIND ACTIONS” anymore. the act of continuing to give them leeway is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of giving them money is now the act of being taken advantage of. the act of buying into their story at the expense of your sanity, is now the act of being taken advantage. basically, all i’m saying is START PUTTING YOURSELF FIRST AND TRUSTING YOURSELF WHEN YOU FEEL SOMEONE DOESN’T HAVE YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND.

ending thoughts: i know quarantine is difficult right now. the desire to grow contrasted with the inability to move. maybe try and follow that old 2008~ quote; “bloom where you are planted”. you might not be able to reach the goals you thought you would during this time. you might not be able to run a marathon or make a bunch of new friends or wake up at 6 AM to workout or redo your bedroom or get a rhinoplasty or join a gym or get an internship. working towards productivity might be unrealistic right now. but you can work everyday towards becoming the woman you want to be, mentally. you can work on learning to be content, learning to make the best with what you have, learning to appreciate the little things, learning to slow down. these are all qualities that i for one want to have just as much as i want to be attractive or successful. if you can’t enjoy success, what’s the fucking point! life is on pause right now, take this moment as a gift and consider your internal world and what parts of your mind need a makeover. there are horrible things happening in the world right now, do what you can to help, but if you’re safe and healthy then be grateful for the things you can learn from this difficult time. take it slow, but keep moving forward!

#happyandchic #happy and chic

24 notes · View notes

nonexistent-anime-echo · 5 years ago

Text

Cole's A Vampire: Part 3

A/N: I think I'm going to call this an AU. Can I call it an AU? I mean it seems like an AU and not just a random vampire fanfiction. I also just think getting AU asks would be fun. If I did get AU asks for this, I'd probably answer them both with text and drawings so I can work on my human drawing skills. TW: Blood, mentions of killing (both people and animals), poor mental health

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

----

"I can't believe I did that," Cole whispered shakily. He'd cried himself dry of tears an hour prior, so Jay was hugging him, trying to comfort him.

"Cole, it's not your fault," Jay said quietly.

"I-I don't want to go to a vampire hospital," said Cole. He felt his eyes stinging, and quickly stood up. "My eyes are watering," he explained to Jay, who was looking at him, clearly confused.

"Oh," said Jay. "Okay."

"What if something happens to the city while they're gone? We can't do anything! I'll just make the situation worse and you're still getting used to not being solid!"

"Calm down, everything'll be fine. We'll get a call from the others and Kai will be okay."

The phone rang inside. Jay and Cole ran in; Cole was the one to grab the phone.

"Hello?"

"H-He's stable," said Lloyd. "They said he should survive. He's still unconscious though."

Cole started crying. He covered his mouth with his hand and looked at Jay. Jay gave him a minute to calm down.

"I — I want to visit my dad," said Cole. "He might know how to help me control myself."

"Okay," said Jay. "How are we gonna get there?"

Cole thought for a minute.

"Our elemental dragons?"

"That'll work," said Jay. A few seconds later there was a blue dragon in front of him. He hopped on it. Cole got on his.

----

"Hey, Dad," said Cole, looking at the vampire in front of him.

"Hello, Cole! Who's this?"

"Jay. You remember him, right?"

"Vaguely. How'd he get turned into a ghost?"

Jay answered for Cole.

"It's a long story," he said.

"Anyway, I need your help," said Cole, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I've been having an extremely difficult time controlling my urges. That's how Jay was turned into a ghost, and a couple hours ago I almost killed my boyfriend. The blood the hospital's giving me isn't helping me much."

"You used to have so much control, what happened?" asked Lou, looking at Cole with a worried expression.

"I had a little too much control," Cole answered, looking at Lou. "I refused to get blood from anywhere, so I got sick. I tried a heart transplant, but it didn't do anything."

"Your mother tried the heart transplant too," said Lou with a sad expression. "It didn't help her either. They had no choice but to —"

"Kill her," Cole finished. "I don't want that to happen to me."

"I don't know how to help," said Lou. "The most advice I can give you is limit your blood intake, but that didn't do much for your mother."

Cole, Lou, and Jay stayed silent for a few minutes.

"The reason I attacked Kai in the first place is because his blood type is my favorite," said Cole. "B negative. It's almost like I crave his blood specifically, but I don't want to kill him. The more of his blood I get, whether he donates it or not, the more I get urges to attack him."

"I — don't know what to do about that," said Lou.

"If you can tell what blood type a human has by scent, what blood type did I have?" asked Jay, who was now sitting on the floor.

"O positive," said Cole. Jay looked at him curiously.

"So how long did I keep your cravings at bay for?" he asked, playing with a loose thread in the carpet.

"About two days," said Cole. "My cravings hadn't fully kicked in y — why are you comfortable talking about your death with the vampire that killed you?"

"I don't know," said Jay. "I'm surprised too."

Lou's phone rang.

"Hello? Cole, it's for you."

Cole grabbed the phone from Lou.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Cole." Kai's voice sounded a little shaky. Tears stung at Cole's eyes.

"Kai —"

"I know what you're going to say. It wasn't your fault you attacked me. You need to remember that."

"How was it not my fault, Kai?" Cole said a little angrily. "They're my urges, my temptations, my choices —",

"Because you're having a hard time controlling yourself," said Kai. "It's almost like you're out of control."

Cole stayed silent for a minute.

"Cole —"

"I'm not going to visit you and risk killing you," said Cole almost angrily. "I love you, I really do, but I'm not about to risk killing you."

He heard Kai sigh.

"I at least want to know you're okay," he said. "Jay's there, right?"

"Yeah," sighed Cole, putting the phone on speaker. He set the phone down on the table.

"Is he doing okay, Jay?" asked Kai.

"Yeah," said Jay. "I think, at least."

He glanced at Cole nervously. Cole looked at him, sticking his tongue out and crossing his arms.

"Maybe not," said Jay. "He's doing his best, that's what matters."

"You're right," said Kai, sighing. "I-I love you, Cole."

Cole's expression changed from mild defiance to sadness.

"I love you, too, Kai."

----

"Kai, he'll be fine," said Nya, looking at Kai nervously. It had only been about ten minutes since he'd gotten off the phone with Cole.

"But what if he isn't?" Kai asked nervously. "If he hadn't —"

"Kai, don't say it," said Lloyd. "You should be thankful that Cole didn't kill you. It mean he's regaining control. If he'd killed you, he might've gone on a killing spree. Attacking people is only making his urges stronger and harder to control."

"How would you know that?" asked Kai, glaring at Lloyd.

"We've done our research," said Zane. "I guess technically I didn't have to research it, but I helped Lloyd do some research."

Kai yawned.

"We'll let you get some sleep, Kai," said Lloyd, standing up. "It'll help you heal faster. See you later."

"Bye."

----

"You're — You're a vampire!"

Kai stared at Cole, whose eyes were glowing red. His fangs were protracted.

"Kai, I won't hurt you," said Cole, retracting his fangs. "Trust me. I would've attacked you before now if I wanted to attack you."

Kai looked at Cole cautiously.

"I promise," said Cole. He smiled. Kai smiled back. Cole turned a little red. "M-Maybe we can go to a movie or something? Sometime?"

Kai looked contemplative for a minute.

"Sure."

"I'll try to keep my fangs retracted if it makes you feel better," said Cole.

"You don't have to," said Kai. "I kinda like your fangs."

Cole smiled, fangs protracted.

"If you say so," he said. "C'mon. We have some training to do."

----

If only I had that much self-control now, Cole thought, relaxing on Lou's couch. Jay was sitting in a chair next to him.

"Don't you think they'll get worried, Cole?" he asked, looking at Cole worriedly.

"They're safer with me here, where I can't attack them," said Cole. His eyes started to water as he remembered his promise to Kai.

I won't hurt you…

"Jay?" said Cole, looking at the ghost next to him.

"Yeah?"

"I — I broke a promise I made to Kai," said Cole.

"What was that promise?"

"I promised him I'd never hurt him when he found out I was a vampire."

"It's not your fault you attacked him, Cole," said Jay gently.

"You and the other four keep telling me that," mumbled Cole.

"It's really not your fault though, Cole," said Jay. "You at least seem to be regaining control of yourself."

"But I still so badly want to attack Kai again," said Cole. "That's why I'm not going to visit him. Kai's my boyfriend, if I killed him I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"There are doctors there to restrain you," said Jay. "The point I'm trying to make is you can't stay cooped up on your dad's couch for the rest of time. And Kai needs to see you're okay."

Cole stayed silent for a few minutes.

"If you start getting ready to attack, the doctors can restrain you," said Jay. "They can do what they did when you attacked that woman."

"I'd rather not," said Cole. "I don't think you understand what it's like to be stabbed in the arm while you're attacking someone."

"Well, we have to do something so Kai knows you're okay," said Jay, looking at Cole with a slightly worried expression.

"I just really don't want to risk attacking Kai again, Jay," said Cole. He didn't make eye contact with Jay.

"If you won't visit him, at least tell him you're doing okay," said Jay.

"But I'm not," said Cole, looking at Jay. "I just almost killed my boyfriend, Jay. I'm not okay."

"You'll get better with time," said Lou, walking into the room.

"Mom didn't," Cole mumbled.

"I — I have faith in you, Cole," said Lou, looking at Cole nervously.

"We all do," said Jay. "You can regain control. You have to try."

Cole nodded and laid down.

----

"I hope he's doing okay," said Kai, looking at Nya.

"Okay," said Lloyd. Kai and Nya looked at him; Zane was on his back, smiling.

"What? Am I holding on too tight?"

"No," said Lloyd. "You're light as a —"

They watched as Lloyd fell. Zane fell backwards.

"Are you sure I wasn't holding on too tight?"

A nurse ran into the room.

"Is everything okay?" he asked frantically.

"Yeah," said Lloyd. He rubbed his head a little. "I just fell. Don't worry about him, he's titanium," he added as the nurse looked over at Zane and opened his mouth.

"What?"

"He's an android," Kai explained. "I mean, he's clearly not human."

"Oh," said the nurse. "If — If everything's okay, I guess I'll just go —"

The nurse walked out of the room.

"You are okay, right, Zane?" asked Lloyd, standing up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Zane. "How are you doing, Kai?"

"I'm doing okay," Kai replied.

"Your vitals are stable, that's good," said Zane.

"Can we try to call Cole again?" asked Kai. He winced as his IV tube caught on the blanket.

"Yeah," said Lloyd. "Hopefully he's doing okay."

Zane grabbed the phone next to Kai's bed and dialed Lou's number, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jay," said Zane, smiling. "Kai wanted to talk to Cole."

"If he's up to it," added Lloyd.

"Cole, Kai wants to talk to you!" they heard Jay shout.

"Is he coming?" asked Kai, looking at the phone.

"No," said Jay. "He — He's still trying to cope with the fact that he almost killed you, Kai. He keeps telling me he's not okay. He tells me he feels better distancing himself from you guys because if he's not near you he can't attack you. He's comfortable around me because he isn't tempted to attack me since I'm a ghost, but since three of you are human —"

"What about me?" asked Zane, looking at the phone with an eyebrow raised.

"He hasn't said anything," said Jay. "I think since you're solid and I'm not, that might have something to do with it. He — He also thinks talking to Kai is going make the urges worse."

They heard Cole crying in the background.

"Let me talk to him, Jay," said Kai, adjusting his position on his bed.

"Cole, Kai wants to talk to you," Jay said gently on the other line. "He's worried about you."

"If he won't talk, I will," said Kai. "C-Cole, I know you're mad at yourself. But it wasn't your fault. I don't want this to change our relationship. Please make sure you're taking care of yourself. If not for yourself, do it for me. I love you."

Kai laid down. Tears were starting to run down his face.

"I'll see if I can get him to talk," said Jay. "I guess I'll see you later. Bye."

"Bye."

----

"How do other vampires drink this?"

Cole stared at the limp, bleeding horse in front of him. Lou had taken him out to try animal blood while Jay went to visit Kai, Lloyd, Nya, and Zane.

"It's not that bad," said Lou. "Not to me at least."

"I wouldn't be able to drink this on a regular basis, though," said Cole. "It's a little too bitter for me. I wish I could live off this instead of human blood."

"Is it sustaining you?" asked Lou, looking at him.

"Not really," Cole replied. "I need human blood, animal blood doesn't do me any good."

"How long has it been since you last had blood?" Lou looked at Cole, worry on his face.

"About two or three days," said Cole. "I haven't had blood since I attacked Kai. Horse blood isn't doing anything to calm me down."

"How about I go get you some blood when Jay gets back? I don't want you to get sick."

"Okay. Can you try to get B negative?"

"Of course."

It was about forty five minutes before Jay got back.

"Okay," he said as he got off his dragon. "I'm back. Kai's really worried about you, Cole."

"I know," said Cole. "But I'm not about to risk attacking him."

"Is that horse's blood doing anything?" Jay asked, looking at the dead horse.

"No."

"I'll be back in a little bit," said Lou. "I'll be back with some blood."

"Okay. Thanks," said Cole. Lou left, leaving Cole and Jay alone in the grass. They stayed silent for a few minutes; Cole stared at the bite mark in the horse's neck and Jay kept his eyes on Cole.

"We should go back to your dad's in case the others call," said Jay. Cole nodded and stood up. They walked to Lou's house quietly.

"I don't think we should draw attention to ourselves, especially since my dad and I just killed a horse," said Cole. "It's a little chilly."

He curled up on the couch when they got to the house.

"Are you doing okay, Cole?" asked Jay, looking at Cole with a concerned expression.

"I'm just a little cold," said Cole. A few seconds later a blanket was put over him. "Thanks, Jay."

"You're welcome," said Jay, smiling. After a couple of minutes, Cole's breathing slowed down and he was quietly snoring.

----

"Cole? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Kai," Cole said, smiling. He was doubled over with his arm across his stomach.

"If — If you need blood, take mine," said Kai. He held out his wrist. "I don't want you to get sick."

"But if I lose control —"

"It would be my fault for letting you drink my blood in the first place," interrupted Kai. He shoved his wrist in Cole's face; he winced as Cole pierced his skin. Cole drank a little bit, then stopped. He wiped his mouth.

"Thanks, Kai," he said.

"You're welc —" Kai let out a yelp of surprise. Cole was kissing him, his arms wrapped around Kai's waist. Kai eased into it after a few seconds.

"I want it to be like this forever," whispered Kai after they broke apart. "I'd give anything."

"Me too."

----

I'd give anything…

Kai was in his hospital room, staring at the ceiling. His eyes stung with fresh tears.

I'd give anything…

Worry pricked at his stomach. He hadn't heard anything from or about Cole in several days. He didn't even know if Cole was still —

No. He had to be alive.

But what if he isn't…

"Kai?"

Jay's voice snapped Kai from his thoughts.

"Hi, Jay. What's up?"

Jay moved away from the doorway.

"C-Cole!"

Cole ran over to Kai, hugging him tightly.

"I've — I've been losing sleep over you, you jerk!"

"I was protecting you from me," said Cole. "I have a better handle on myself, I feel like you're safer around me now than you were before. At least, I'm not so tempted to attack you."

"Then you can go back to the monastery?" asked Kai, looking at Cole hopefully.

"I'd have to let my dad know I'm leaving first," said Cole.

"Are your fangs protracted?" asked Jay, walking over to Kai's bed and sitting on the chair next to it.

"Nope," said Cole, smiling.

"Then I guess we don't have to expect you attacking any of us any time soon," said Kai. He kissed Cole lightly.

"Hey, I'm here too —" said Jay a little nervously.

"Sorry," said Cole, breaking the contact with Kai. "Well, I'll go talk to my dad about going back to the monastery. I'll come back after, I promise."

"Love you!" said Kai as Cole walked out the door.

"I love you too."

----

"Cole! You're okay!"

Nya ran over to Cole and hugged him.

"Calm down, Nya, he has a boyfriend," said Lloyd, laughing.

"Yep, I'm okay," said Cole a little awkwardly. "I don't have such bad blood cravings anymore."

"That's good," said Zane. Nya let go of Cole and stepped away from him.

"So you feel safe being around us now?" asked Lloyd.

"If I didn't I wouldn't be here," said Cole.

"Kai gets out of the hospital tomorrow," said Zane. "We should go to bed, then we can get up early tomorrow and get Kai."

----

"Maybe this can sustain me for a little bit?" said Cole, looking at the deer in front of him. "I mean, deer blood isn't extremely bad."

"As long as it keeps you from attacking people," said Lloyd.

"Can we keep the antlers?" Kai asked excitedly, looking at the buck's head. The others stared at him. "What? We technically hunted it, it didn't go to waste, and it has some pretty decent antlers! We didn't poach it!"

Cole, Jay, Zane, Lloyd, and Nya exchanged glances.

"I guess," said Zane. "You're cleaning them though."

It was a few hours before they got went to the monastery. Kai carried the buck's antlers, smiling.

"We went hunting!" he said happily as they walked inside; Wu was staring at them.

"I thought I'd try deer blood," explained Cole. "I can handle it, but it won't sustain me for very long, I don't think. I'm still satisfied from it though."

"Good," said Wu. He looked at the antlers Kai was holding.

"He insisted we keep the antlers," said Lloyd. "We — We probably should've asked you first, right?"

"Yes, but it's too late now," said Wu. "Put them somewhere safe."

Kai's smile grew and he ran to put the antlers away. Cole followed him.

"You're too happy about those antlers," he said, laughing.

"They're cool!" said Kai.

"Whatever makes you happy," said Cole.

----

A/N: Unless I get people literally begging me to write another chapter of this, this is the last chapter of the "Cole's a vampire" saga. I want to keep this story/AU alive through asks, so if you want you can submit an ask.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ninjago lloyd #jay walker #nya smith #kai smith #cole brookstone #zane julien #lloyd garmadon #ninjago vampire au #ninjago au #lavashipping

19 notes · View notes

macgyvermedical · 6 years ago

Text

3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate is My New Favorite Chemical Weapon, A “Mason+Cable+Choices” Medical Review

This episode. This freaking episode.

First of all, Charlie Robinson, who I really thought was going to stick around in this version of the series after he survived his first episode, had to go and become the instrument to someone else’s revenge scheme. We also got to see a relatively hard side of Mac in the interrogation room, and I’m not sure whether to applaud it as character development or feel like they’re going too dark.

From a medical and whump standpoint, this episode sure has a lot of things covered- the gunshot wound, the neck needle, the 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate poisoning (Yay!), the heart needle/antidote, and the toxic smoke. I'm warning you now, most of this review is about the 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate poisoning.

The Gunshot Wound

Honestly, there’s not a lot to be said about the gunshot wound- it was to the outside of Charlie’s thigh, so while it would have been painful and probably would have bled some (the duct tape wouldn’t have helped stop the bleeding) it probably wouldn’t have been enough to really threaten his life. If he hadn’t later plummeted to his death, he might have needed some antibiotics, professional medical attention, and physical therapy.

Neck Needles

Neck needles aren’t a thing, but I’ve talked about those in previous posts.

3-Quinuclidinyl Benzilate Poisoning

Oh hey look, we’re already at 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate poisoning! And fam? this is where I really did my research.

If you’ve been on this blog long enough you know I like my chemical weapons. Not in a “kill everyone” way but in more of a “strong academic interest I may one day write a thesis about” way. And man, do I love having access to an academic library again. Whoo buddy. This was fun.

In the episode, Mason uses a chemical weapon called 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate (also noted in the episode as “BZ”), smuggled in a false tooth, to subdue Mac before making his escape from the interrogation room. The tooth contains QNB in an aerosol form, which when released forms a visible cloud in the room. Mac breathes the aerosol, which appears to instantly paralyze or possibly sedate him, while Mason takes advantage of the small amount of uncontaminated air in Mac’s water bottle before making his escape up the air vent. A security team makes their way to Mac, Desi calls for a med team, and Mac is revived with an antidote delivered by a needle straight to his heart.

When someone mentions chemical weapons, most people think of mustard gas or nerve agents. But poisons designed to torture and kill people aren’t the only things that fall into the category of chemical weapons. In fact, there’s a whole class of them, called “incapacitants” that are specifically designed to take people out of commission without a high risk of death or permanent disability.

Let me just say, Jim Adler is a writer after my own heart. He wrote both this episode and “Mac+Fallout+Jack” and considering both were absolutely gut-wrenching and contained reasonable choices of incapacitating agents, I really, really appreciate what he’s done for the canon. He didn’t get everything right here (*cough cough* neck and heart needles *cough cough*), but he clearly understands enough about drugging people to buy some literary license. Not all of it, but some.

Now, as I’ve talked about in other posts, drugging people into unconsciousness isn’t a particularly safe thing to do. Unconscious people can’t protect their airway, and most drugs that render people unconscious significantly impact their respiratory rate, blood pressure, or both. Unless the party doing the drugging is prepared to devote at least one trained person to monitoring and management of the drugged individual, there’s a chance that person could suffocate and die. Paralytic agents have a lot of the same issues.

This becomes even more problematic if you’re trying to incapacitate multiple people. Case in point- in 2002 a small group of Chechan rebels held over a 1,000 Russian civilians hostage in a theater in Moscow. After several days, in order to end the stand-off, Russian military personnel used what was probably an aerosalized opioid* to render everyone in the building unconscious. They then stormed the building and rescued the hostages. Unfortunately, even though antidotes were available and used, about 1 out of every 10 hostages ended up dying due to the mass drugging, which didn’t win any PR points for the use of incapacitating agents.

But if you get just slightly more creative, sedation and paralysis are not the only two ways to drug enemy combatants into uselessness. Turns out, a variety of hallucinogens and deliriants can achieve the same goal without the same risk of death by suffocation. If you can get someone to a state where they can’t remember what they’re doing or perform basic skills like reading or decision making, they can’t easily attack and kill your own personnel.

This is where 3-quinuclidinyl benzilate, (NATO code BZ, US Army code EA-2277, Soviet code Substance 78, and usually referred to as “QNB” in medical circles) starts to stand out. QNB is a deliriant and hallucinogen. Now, there are lots of drugs that fall into these categories- think LSD, ketamine, PCP, and atropine to name a few. QNB works very similarly to atropine, by selectively blocking the action of the neurotransmitter acetylcholine (think the opposite of a nerve agent), but with significantly more of its action concentrated around the mind-altering side-effects. It’s also safer, hardier, more versatile, and has a more ideal onset and duration of action.

The typical course of incapacitation with QNB involves:

An initial period of progressively worsening anxiety, restlessness, and confusion

A period of extreme drowsiness

Finally, more confusion, an inability to perform simple tasks, difficulty with movement, hallucinations, and bizarre behaviors including picking at things, which all gradually wane over the course of 2-4 days.

Here are some reasons QNB stands out as a particularly effective incapacitant (and all the ways the episode ignored them):

The first is therapeutic index. A drug’s therapeutic index is the difference between its effective dose and it’s toxic dose. If we say a drug has a “narrow” therapeutic index, that means there’s a very small difference between an effective dose and a toxic one, while a “wide” therapeutic index means that the two doses are very different. When drugging someone without their knowledge, no matter how you’re delivering the drug, it’s really hard to estimate the actual ingested dose. Because of this, you want the widest possible range of effective-but-not-deadly doses you can have- the best drugs for mass druggings are those with the widest possible therapeutic indices.

QNB happens to have a very wide therapeutic index compared to other possibilities for incapacitants. The lowest effective dose is about 150 micrograms, while a toxic dose is more than 650 times that at about 100 miligrams. In small doses, the drug doesn’t last as long and causes more sedating vs delirious effect, but is still very useful in lowering the effectiveness of an enemy force.

The second is its options for route and availability in an environment. How any drug is given is referred to the route of administration. These can include:

PO (oral- taken as a pill or liquid)

IV (intravenous- injected into a vein)

IM (intramuscular- injected into a muscle)

SC (subcutaneous- injected into fat)

IO (intrasseous- injected into a bone in an emergency)

Inhaled (breathed and absorbed through blood vessels in the lungs)

PR (rectal- given rectally)

Transdermal (absorbed through the skin)

Most drugs work best when administered a certain way, and some may only be produced for use by a certain route. Some, like ketamine or LSD, can’t be absorbed in the stomach, so giving them orally doesn’t work (LSD “tabs” are actually absorbed through the mucous membrane in the mouth). QNB’s advantage is that it can be given by any route. You want to drug food or drink? It works. Aerosolize it and pump it into the air? Also works. Inject it IM, SC, or IV? Yes but you might have to answer some questions. Coat something like a doorknob? It goes through skin too!

QNB is particularly suited as an aerosol, not because it readily evaporates, but because it’s odorless. No one would even know they were breathing it until it started working, and even then, they might not know what happened. It also stays in the environment for a long time- up to several weeks depending on conditions- and can survive extreme heat without degrading, so it could be disbursed via explosive (LSD would not survive). Bottom line, everyone that came into that room to rescue Mac was contaminated, probably enough to cause them problems. Also, so was Mason, so take that as you will.

The third is the drug’s onset and duration of action. In the episode Mac is almost instantly incapacitated when the spray hits his face. This is not how any drug works (even via the IV route, the quickest-onset drugs still take at least 15-30 seconds to be felt), but particularly not QNB. QNB has an onset time of about an hour, no matter the route. This is actually beneficial to the drug’s original purpose- if no one shows symptoms from drugging with an odorless aerosol until an hour after exposure, there’s no way to take protective measures. Suddenly everyone’s hallucinating and can’t do basic math. Sucks for that attack plan you were working on.

The fourth and final benefit that QNB provides is both it’s lack of (specific) antidote and the fact that there are no lasting effects. Some people point to physostigmine as a possible antidote, but it’s not perfect and has some incapacitating side effects of its own. As incapacitation with QNB is generally not life threatening, it’s probably better for most people to be cared for in a safe place and ride out the effects. Since it’s also not a carcinogen or mutagen, once the effects subside, there shouldn’t be any additional problems.

Phew. Okay.

Heart Needles

I swear I’ve talked about heart needles before, but I’ll do it again since it hasn’t been recently. In the episode, Mac is injected with an antidote directly into his heart. Now, like we said before, using an antidote wouldn’t really help him much, and its not really necessary. He’s just gonna have to ride it out (I don’t make the rules...).

But they chose to do it, so we should talk about it- in the pre-CPR era, intracardiac injections represented the only way of getting emergency medications like epi to the heart in the case of cardiac arrest. As late as 1992, there were still some groups advocating for it if the patient was in asystole (flatline) and IV or IO access couldn’t be obtained. Mac has excellent veins if I do say so myself, and he also wasn’t coding, so there’s no reason for this to have been a thing in the episode. It’s also never used today.

Also, I’m going to be particularly disappointed if that was just a callback to the similarly inaccurate Pulp Fiction scene. Because this show has already used epi to counter an acetylcholine-based problem, and you already only get to do that once. EPINEPHRINE IS NOT AN ALL-PURPOSE ANTIDOTE.

Jim Adler based on your other work I have to assume you know better.

Also it’s late and I’m not talking about the toxic smoke. See my many posts on cyanide and some time in the future come read my post on carbon monoxide.

*According to the book Chemical Warfare: Secrets Almost Forgotten by James Ketchum, who did a lot of the initial research on chemical incapacitants. Other sources reference the drug used as anything from traditional nerve agents to QNB itself, but the onset times and symptoms initially reported seem to match up better with an opioid than QNB.

R E F E R E N C E S

Awl - X-Ray + Penny - Duct Tape + Jack - CD + Hoagie Foil - Guts + Fuel + Hope - Wilderness + Training + Survival - Father + Bride + Betrayal - Lidar + Rogues + Duty - Nightmares - Seeds + Permafrost + Feather - Friends + Enemies + Border -

#MacGyver #mason+cable+choices #chemical weapons #neck needles #heart needles

58 notes · View notes

missjackil · 6 years ago

Text

How to Care for Your Winchesters

Winchesters are a wonderful large breed of humans. Strong, intelligent, loyal, and highly protective. With their warm beautiful eyes, world class smiles, and bodies to leave home for, it’s no wonder so many people of all genders, ages, and races want to own at least one. but if you want to keep your Winchester happy, adopt them both, as each require the other to thrive. The first thing you should know, is that their communication skills are different between each other, than they are with other humans. Let’s learn some typical words and sentences you will hear your Winchesters say, and their normal human translations.

“Get some sleep” = It’s Wednesday, time for your 2 hour nap

“Im good” = Theres more trauma than I can even wrap my head around

Im fine” = Im so close to death I probably shouldnt buy any green bananas

“Your nerdiness knows no bounds/you did that yourself?” = Youre probably the smartest person Ive ever known

“Youre an idiot” = Youre friggn adorable

“Where’s my brother?!” = You dont understand, i literally can’t breathe rn

“WHERES MY BROTHER???!!!!” = you have 3 seconds to tell me before I rip your intestines out through your eye sockets

“Brother” = not necessarily blood related, may be a close friend that I care a lot about and would do mostly anything for”

My Brother” = My very heart, soul and life breath. Nothing or no one comes before him, Theres NOTHING I wouldnt do for him.

“We’ll do it together” = Though intentions are truely pure, whatever “it” is, will almost always be done by one alone.

“Family” = Someone not necessarily blood related, that has my back, so I have theirs. I put up with their bullshit, and they put up with mine.

Though WInchesters are fluent in English, and its their primary conversational tongue, many iteractions between the two of them are spoken silently, through facial expressions, eye contact, and body language. Sometimes they can communicate via thought if the other isn’t with them. Most thought communication is along the lines of “I have a splitting headache, I need Advil” or “Have a beer ready for me” or “Can you make me something to eat?” but for their own safety, Winchesters should be encouraged to develop this form of communication further. Winchesters dont use their given names as simple ways to address the other. Saying “Sammy” or “Dean” vary in meaning , given the situation, The words can mean anything from “Hey bro” to a prayer so personal and desperate, that there are no humans words for.

Winchesters are generally tame around normal humans, as it is not their instinct to attack or hunt humans, but in the wild,use caution when approaching them. Do not sneak up behind them, or approach them too quickly. It is best to keep your hands in view at all times. Do not disrupt their sleep, or touch them without allowing them time to feel you out. Though the look like big warm fluffy puppies, it is always best to let them initiate hugs. Do not touch their hair! This is something allowed exclusively by the other. Though their hair is perfect most of the time, researchers have yet to discover if they self groom, groom each other or are groomed by professionals. Winchesters, especially younger ones, are prone to be agressive towards each other, they may bark and growl, and even have physical throw downs, try not to be too alarmed, as one has yet to have ever killed the other. Personal care is very easy. Both are completely house broken, and keep themselves clean. Eating habits differ from one to the other, Dean is primarily a meat eater, though he enjoys many sweets, like candy, cakes and especially pie! Keep many pies on hand, as this is Dean’s primary way of consuming fruit. Sam eats less, and though he enjoys burgers, pizza, chicken and burritos, he gets excited for good veggies. Organic is preferred but not mandatory. Keep plenty of coffee and beer on hand at all times. Scientists believe that Winchesters are sensative to cold, as they are very drawn to flannel, and have very rarely ever been seen outside their habitat without at least one additional layer of clothing over their T shirts. They have often been seen wearing jackets to Hell. Although, dont be affraid to dress them in suits and ties, and tell them how handsome they are! Winchesters are known to wander off for days, but dont worry, they always come back home. Maybe a litte dirty, tired, with some cuts and bruises, but they mend up very quickly. Usually within a week, sometimes in less than a day! Just be very watchful of friends they may bring home, as usually they do attract trouble makers. Sadly, Winchesters are famous for befriending the wrong people/monsters So now you’re well on your way to joyful Winchester ownership!! I hope they bring you many years of happiness!

#my stuff #just for fun #sam winchester #dean winchester #winchester ownership

1K notes · View notes

teachersofeducationhu-blog · 5 years ago

Text

**Social media- **what is and what it does

I have since a very long time been monitoring the use of social media.

To be honest growing up i was quite hesitant to be on social media as i thought it would drown my brain.

But today we're here with you to discuss the good and the bad of social media that are used in todays adolescents.

First of we need to know what social media is:

Social media refers to websites and applications that are designed to allow people to share content quickly, efficiently, and in real-time.

Social media is also seen as a platform for many groups and ethnicities.

For many it is seen as as a show case of talents, entertainment,personalities, characteristics, and especially their voices.

Next we need to know the platforms they used:

the youths that we've primarily come across upon use the social media outlets:

Instagram

Snapchat

Twitter

Facebook

Tik Tok

Youtube

Tumblr

To begin with comprehending our youth we need to understand what they use their outlets for.

You can see many of todays youths on social media. Some using it as their personal platform others using it to conceive trends, observing nearly worshipping their idols, forms of communication, its also a look into the daily lives of each other.

For instance: celebrity crush and idols

they are the people kids look up to and use as their role models or envision themselves in that role one day whether be reality or a dream.

It gives them something to reach out to, sort of like a goal

As for media entertainment

we all know the use of memes and the use of it for our personal comic relief.

We all spend countless hours looking at memes and youtube videos but what if we could use this entertainment to stimulate and help evolve the adolescent brain development.

In the form of generating their own memes or social vids that are informative.

Gaming and YouTube has vastly taken over the social platform stage.

They are also some of the more novice lucrative ways of making money on a social platform.

Take for instance that recently there was a video game tournament for fortnite where a young teen won over a million dollars by becoming its first tournament winner.

And what better way to broadcast that same tournament but on YouTube.

Where millions of viewers logged in and the broadcaster got paid by the sum of viewers he/ she had.

Psychoanalysis was founded by Sigmund Freud (1856-1939). Freud believed that people could be cured by making conscious their unconscious thoughts and motivations, thus gaining insight.

The aim of psychoanalysis therapy is to release repressed emotions and experiences, i.e., make the unconscious conscious. It is only having a cathartic (i.e., healing) experience can the person be helped and "cured."

Click here for a video on the theory of psycho analysis

psycho analysis is crucial to understand because if we do then we know our brain develops even in our sleep. And if teens constantly are on social media or social networks and video games it can affect their sleep and the wake up restless, or even worse more dedicated to the social outlets as not to feel left out.

One way we can help beat this is 3 hours before bed time all phones away and give the brain a stimulating activity so that it can function up to speed and breathe and eat knowledge as it is meant to .

Implement family night with boardgames or trivia or a fun activity outsides that can help build your social recognizance.

Giving your body and brain diversity keeps it sharp and uplifting and gives you those extra tools for life.

For instance some of the social idols for todays teens can be what we call social influencers.

A social influencer is someone who uses their social media status to push products on their young audience to buy said product on their social media page for what said influencer is paid for by the brand.

See video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5SOFSjlU0fM

on a site called mom junction I found 11 positive and negative influences of teen on social media

https://www.momjunction.com/articles/positive-and-negative-influences-of-media-on-teenagers_00107975/

I will just use 2 of each:

Help Develop Social Skills:

Many teens are socially awkward. Media gives them the chance to groom their social skills. It also gives them the chance to expand their social circle and develop new friendships. Other benefits include social confidence, heightened literacy in the media, and more social support. Social media diversifies your teen’s social skills, which in turn helps him navigate successfully through modern society

Inspire Them:

When your teen watches an action flick, don’t just despair about the violence. With a little guidance, they can use the movie as inspiration! Maybe your teen will decide to take up martial arts training, all thanks to a Bruce Lee movie! Teenagers look up to celebrities, and when a celebrity tells them to stay off drugs, they just might listen.

Negative theories

Risky Sexual Behavior:

Teenagers are just discovering their sexuality. It is very normal for them to be interested in everything sexual. But the amount of sex in media today can make a teenager confused. Sex without responsibility – that seems to be the message being beamed at teenagers. This can lead to irresponsible sexual behavior and unwanted pregnancies.

[ Read:Teenage Social Media Addiction]

Making Everything Commercial:

Happiness comes at a price. At least that’s the message teenagers get through media. Their life would be perfect if only you’d buy them that hot new game, that happening dress. Advertisers target teenagers to ramp up their revenues. But teenagers fall prey to the idea of commercialization of happiness.

According to Erickson’s Developmental theory, an individual faces a developmental crisis at each stage ( a conflict between a positive alternative and a potentially unhealthy alternative). “…The emphasis on ones own identity at a point in time when the way forward was no longer determined by ones parents or by society…resulting in a crisis of identity”. (westenberg 2008:2)

Now that we have that tackled, let us discuss some of the good of social media:

Ive mentioned previously above that social media is a platform:

for instance the parkland shooting in the united states where a group of students took to social media to voice their opinions after surviving yet another tragic massacre and became activist in their own rights to fight against NRA and force a national debate.

https://www.vox.com/2018/2/26/17054408/parkland-shooting-activist-teens-gun-control

if we were to apply Urie Bronfebenner's theory of Ecological Theory of Human Development.

Urie Bronfenbrenner (April 29, 1917 – September 25, 2005) was a Russian-born American psychologist who is most known for his ecological systems theory.[1] His work with the United States government helped in the formation of the Head start program in 1965.[2] Bronfenbrenner's ability research was key in changing the perspective of developmental psychology by calling attention to the large number of environmental and societal influences on child development.

Or young high school or college students or athletes using their popularity on social media to spread the knowledge of social injustice

As you can see young adults have used social media to help lead them along the way to do great things these are the most beautiful forms of social media.

Then of course there is the ugly.

Social media is also an open platform, for some it can allow you to be subsequent to

for instance research has shown that spending to much time on social media can lead lead to depression .

As noted by such research sites such as ivesciences

https://www.livescience.com/51294-cyberbullying-social-media-teen-depression.html

Don't get me with twisted everything in this life there are the good and the bad.

Take for instance social media have given us the means to reach millions if not billions of people across the globe to relay our message but it can also allow you to portray just a an image of yourself but factual and superficial.

CYBERBULLYING

Do you know the dangers of cyber bullying?

Cyber bullying has taken on one of the worst form of emotional en mental damage to it's victims.

There have been an extreme amount of cyber bullying that has led to the victims committing suicide.

I don't know about you but no child should have o go through so much that they rather take their own lives because of such cowardly behavior from another that hides behind a sometimes fake profile.

Here is an article from lie science backing thees findings:

https://www.livescience.com/51294-cyberbullying-social-media-teen-depression.html

For instance in adolescents cat fishing has been major issue.

For those who don't know catfish(ing ) is pretending to be someone your not on he internet/ social media .

The most cat-fishers claim to show interest in you and try to either make you fall in love with them or to manipulate you for their own personal cause.

https://socialnewsdaily.com/11296/catfishing-infographic/

Cat-fishing is often employed for romance scams,on dating websites. Cat-fishing may be used for financial gain, to compromise a victim in some way, or simply as a form of trolling or wish fulfillment.Sadly the study found that cat-fishers will use traumatic experiences such as cancer, accidents and death to avoid meeting their victims in real life.

As we look into the psychological make up of cat-fishing its almost always done by one person making of a fake social media platform. It is because it is so easy to mask our through selves behind the windows of social media. Another bad reference is that it is now easier for bullies and psychopaths to reach our youth online through social media.

Other platforms with social media use

Lets take a look into the platform that our adolescents role into.

For instance youtube, youtube was seen for many years as just a media outlet where we could watch short documentaries and comedy stints and especially watch music videos.

Nowadays youtube has a huge role into social media and social development of todays youth.

Yes i know the argument would come as wow really (sarcastically) and others would say thats always been the way it has been ( true) but never like before.

Just a few insight as to what goes on you tube you can see stuff like live video gaming where you can talk to and relate your skills.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ft54bgeMBlg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qc-vvpFft2c

https://video.fosterwebmarketing.com/fosterwebmarketing.com/httpdocs/evm/1080_fosterwebmarketing_017_gina_youtube_h264_640x360.mp4

Also where the can communicate with anime pages, show their life with life vlogs and star in their own reality clips, put on their own personal showcases with live interaction.

The've built up a platform where they can showcase their many talents.

For instance Justin Bieber himself was discovered on youtube and signed a record deal as a teenager.

But social media can also lead to the a substantial difference to the development of the adolescent brain, if you click on the lick here under you can see a couple of test run on teenagers who are on social media and how their brains develop.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7QWoP6jJG3k

**Where do i belong **

We have seen an outstanding amount of young people all searching to find their peers and to adhere to whatever social group.

Take for instance such support groups that help them deal with their sexuality, ideology and identity

LBGTQ

Feminism

race

beliefs & religion

sex & sexual experimenting

social experimenting

every teen wants to find his or her social group or spot in society; and social media in its various forms helps to steer them to that source.

We should always pay attention to our students and kids for they are discovering their paths be it good or bad they will find person or social peers who share their interest.

Piaget (1936) was the first psychologist to make a systematic study of cognitive development.

Sensorimotor stage: birth to 2 years

Preoperational stage: ages 2 to 7

Concrete operational stage: ages 7 to 11

Formal operational stage: ages 12 and up

The Sensorimotor Stage

Major Characteristics and Developmental Changes:

The infant knows the world through their movements and sensations

Children learn about the world through basic actions such as sucking, grasping, looking, and listening

Infants learn that things continue to exist even though they cannot be seen (object permanence)

They are separate beings from the people and objects around them

They realize that their actions can cause things to happen in the world around them

During this earliest stage of cognitive development, infants and toddlers acquire knowledge through sensory experiences and manipulating objects. A child's entire experience at the earliest period of this stage occurs through basic reflexes, senses, and motor responses.T

The Preoperational Stage

Major Characteristics and Developmental Changes:

Children begin to think symbolically and learn to use words and pictures to represent objects.

Children at this stage tend to be egocentric and struggle to see things from the perspective of others.

While they are getting better with language and thinking, they still tend to think about things in very concrete terms.

The foundations of language development may have been laid during the previous stage, but it is the emergence of language that is one of the major hallmarks of the preoperational stage of development

The Concrete Operational Stage

Major Characteristics and Developmental Changes

During this stage, children begin to thinking logically about concrete events

They begin to understand the concept of conservation; that the amount of liquid in a short, wide cup is equal to that in a tall, skinny glass, for example

Their thinking becomes more logical and organized, but still very concrete

Children begin using inductive logic, or reasoning from specific information to a general principle

While children are still very concrete and literal in their thinking at this point in development, they become much more adept at using logic.2 The egocentrism of the previous stage begins to disappear as kids become better at thinking about how other people might view a situation.

The Formal Operational Stage

Major Characteristics and Developmental Changes:

At this stage, the adolescent or young adult begins to think abstractly and reason about hypothetical problems

Abstract thought emerges

Teens begin to think more about moral, philosophical, ethical, social, and political issues that require theoretical and abstract reasoning

Begin to use deductive logic, or reasoning from a general principle to specific information

The final stage of Piaget's theory involves an increase in logic, the ability to use deductive reasoning, and an understanding of abstract ideas.3 At this point, people become capable of seeing multiple potential solutions to problems and think more scientifically about the world around them.

In theory we as teachers should not fear the use of social media but instead learn to harness its powers.

To use it as our umbrella to educate by implementing it into our lessons we can control it for the mos.

For instance the making of a social media portfolio where they can use social media better in there english class and basically amy skill set you want to embody on todays adolescents.

For some of us with teenage students we can find it off putting but by my observations there are some differential factors in the use of social media and their personal development from said social society.

Some of the factors are :

Culture/ region of upbringing

Race

Morals and values

Religion

and of course age

With all of these factors we should always monitor our children/ students and have them take time for a detox.

We should also try not to hover over them but enlighten them and instead of nag give them a sense of responsibility where then their brain can develop in multiple ways. Think of it as exercise for the brain.

**Live Long and Prosper & Remember to Elevate and Educate **

1 note · View note

tikitm · 6 years ago

Text

hiiii

ive been getting back into the writing groove by writing small drabbles and little one shots here and there - but @owo-uwu-begonethot gave me this prompt and i wrote a little something for it and it actually came out reall well !! its a 5 +1, but its not that long i swear.

i wasn’t sure if i should post it on AO3 so we’ll see

enjoy ^^

5 Times Peter Asked For A Hug and 1 Time He Didn’t Have To

1. Tony Stark

“Sad” wasn’t a word one would usually use to describe Peter Parker.

Peter Parker was an optimistic, always-smiling kid who always went above and beyond for the people he loved - he was rarely upset. He was like a breath of fresh air to all the people in the compound because he would never, ever let a rainy day ruin the mood. A simply smile went a long way - Tony had noticed this with his time with Peter.

But sometimes he forgot that Peter was just a kid - a kid who had been through way too much for his age. A kid who needed comfort too.

And that fact hit Tony square in the face when the kid - his kid - walks into the living room with his eyes red-rimmed and tear tracks on his cheeks. Tony couldn’t do anything more than watch as Peter stumbled over to him, his head down and his breaths jumpy and shaky.

“...Kid?” Tony spoke cautiously, as if talking to a wild animal. He waited patiently for a response, watching as Peter wiped his eyes and looked up, but didn’t meet Tony’s eyes.

“C… can I please have a hug?” The teenager asked horsley, and Tony freezed up a bit.

He… never really ‘did’ hugs. Tony had never received a lot of hugs when he was a child, so he just grew up thinking that he didn’t really need to hug. Besides the occasional hugs from Pepper, he wouldn’t let anyone else hug him.

But…

Seeing Peter - the kid he had sworn to protect - crying and asking for something he wouldn’t normally ask for, and looking so upset…

Tony bit back a sigh and opened his arms, his heart cracking just a little bit as a choked sob made its way out of Peter’s throat. The teenager then tucked himself into Tony, wrapping his arms around the man as he hugged back.

“Damn, kid… you’re making me go soft.” Tony whispered jokingly, smiling a little when a small laugh sounded from Peter. After that, he went silent, nothing making noise aside from the small sniffles and sobs from the boy. Tony began to card his fingers through Peter’s hair, hoping it would bring some kind of comfort to him, and bit back a laugh when Peter seemed to melt into him more.

Tony would find out what was bothering him later. For now, he would just stay here like this, with his kid, giving Peter the comfort he needed.

And that was enough.

2. Steve Rogers

Steve found Peter in the training room at 3 in the morning, hitting a punching bag with all the force he could muster. From the distance, Steve thought he was just training (but why would he be up at this hour??), but as he got closer, he could see the tears that were running down Peter’s cheeks. With a small cry (of rage?? Sorrow?? Steve couldn’t tell.), Peter landed a hard blow on the punching bag and sent it flying across the room.

Peter heaved in breaths as he stood in the middle of the room, looking so impossibly small and sad. Steve couldn’t just stand there and do nothing, so he cleared his throat and stood a little straighter, calling out to the boy softly.

“Peter-” He stopped when Peter whipped his head around, clearly alarmed. “...hey. What are you doing up so late?” Steve managed to soften his voice a little more in an effort to calm Peter down - make him realize that he was in no immediate danger.

“Heh. Hi Mister Captain America Steve Rogers, sir.” Peter wiped his eyes in a vain attempt to hide the tears. “I just couldn’t sleep. I guess that’s why you’re down here, too?”

“...you’re right.” Steve smiled, albeit awkwardly and weakly, and moved to take a couple of steps forward. “But you’re a growing boy, you know. You need sleep.”

“...You sound like Tony.” Peter mumbled, and even though there was a smile on his face, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Steve suppressed a small sigh and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, internally wincing when the teenager flinched a tiny bit.

“...What’s bothering you, Peter?” Steve asked softly, not expecting the second wave of fresh tears that had suddenly washed over Peter. Peter sniffled, and the next words that came out of his mouth really caught Steve off-guard.

“...Can I please have a hug?” Peter whimpered, scrubbing at his face rather harshly.

Steve would be damned if he didn’t give this kid a hug.

And the fact that the boy was so small caught up to him when Peter got swallowing up by Steve’s arms, practically disappearing when he melted into the hug.

3. Natasha

Natasha didn’t exactly do… emotions.

(Well - that was one way to put it.)

Being trained and brought up as an assassin, Natasha was always taught that you had to suppress your feelings in order to get through a mission - nothing could stop you from getting to the goal that you set and that you had.

However, ever since moving in with the only family she’d ever had, she was beginning to open up more - she was beginning to learn how to express herself more.

And that all started with a little someone name Peter Parker who also happened to be a spider.

(That was the first thing he had said to her after he got over his initial shock - ‘hey! We’re both spiders! Isn’t that cool?!’)

Natasha had found the boy sniffling to himself in the kitchen as he grabbed a cup with shaking hands from the cabinet above him. The Black Widow found herself frowning as she walked into the kitchen casually, not really sure how to attack this problem, but determined to nonetheless.

“Hey, Parker.” She said lowly, and Peter jumped in surprise. He blinked, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“O-oh! Hello, Miss Black Widow Natasha, m’am. Miss.” He said quickly, blinking rapidly as if to stop his tears from spilling over. She offered him a small smile and reached for a cup herself, trying to remain casual. Maybe if they just talked, he would feel better? Clint would just talk to her when she felt a bit… down. Maybe this would work for Peter?

“What drink are you going to get? I was thinking a cup of water for myself.” Natasha said, albeit awkwardly, walking over to the refrigerator to fill her cup.

“...I-I was actually just going to get some apple juice,” Peter replied from behind her, his voice all shaky and wobbly. Natasha frowned once more and turned around to face the teenager who wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

“...what’s the matter, Peter?”

There was a small period of silence where none of them said anything, the only noise being Natasha slowly putting her cup down on the counter. Should she have gone for the direct approach? That was a bad idea, it see-

“...Can I please have a hug, Miss Natasha?” Peter asked weakly, finally looking at her in the eyes.

A hug? Natasha wasn’t sure if she was the most qualified for a hug, but… when she looked at Peter, a surge of… protectiveness (??) swelled in her chest. He was always so… bright and happy. It was time for someone to make him feel safe.

So, she smiled. “Of course, Peter.”

She wrapped her arms around him gently, giving him room to step back if need be. After a couple of seconds of sniffles, she whispered quietly, “I got you, паук.”

And even thought Peter probably didn’t know what that meant, it made him cry even harder.

4. Bruce

Bruce had never met anyone who had been excited to see him for him and not the Hulk.

And yet, when he first met Peter Parker, the boy had almost thrown up with excitement.

Peter was a science nerd, it was obvious, and went on and on about how he had read all of Bruce’s lab reports and papers on every single research topic he did, and how he used them for multiple school assignments.

Peter was busy with school a lot (God knows how he kept up with both school and Spider-Man), which was why Bruce wasn’t very surprised when he found Peter on the floor of the labs with multiple papers scattered around him. What he was surprised about, though, was the constant flow of tears that made their way down Peter’s face.

“Peter!’ Bruce couldn’t stop himself before he exclaimed the boy’s name, causing Peter to whip around, his eyes wide and his lip quivering. Bruce realized his error almost immediately.

“O-oh, Doctor Banner, I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair right now I promise let me just pick up all of your papers-” Peter said, panicked as he scrambled to pick up all of his papers.

“No, no, no, Peter, don’t-” Bruce quickly made his way over to stop Peter, letting out a small sigh when he managed to stop the boy. “I’m fine with you staying here. But what’s the matter? Is it something in your homework?”

Peter shook his head and let all his papers fly to the floor, looking down at his feet. He opened his mouth, closed it again, shuddered and wrapped his arms around himself. “...Can I have a hug? Please?” He asked quickly, as if he was ashamed of of the question.

“...Of course, Peter.” Bruce didn’t even hesitate - Peter had shown such kindness to him. There was no way he was just going to leave Peter hanging to dry by himself.

Peter let out a small, soft sob and allowed himself to be enveloped in a hug from the Doctor, relaxing when Bruce began to shush him and rub his back.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…”

5. Clint

“Hey, Spider-Child, I’ve been looking all over for - you…” Clint’s cheery hop-in from the vents into the living room was stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the teenager, laying in the fetal position on the couch and crying silently.

Clint was at a loss. He wasn’t sure whether he should just turn like nothing ever happened (it would spare Parker the ‘embarrassment’ of having someone see him cry), or he could stay and try to comfort the boy.

The parent in him pushed the first option away immediately. He couldn’t abandon a crying child and leave them all alone - whenever there was someone crying, comforting had to be done, and Clint wasn’t about to just hightail it out of there to give Peter privacy.

They were a team - and team sticks together like glue.

Like a family.

“Oh, shhhhhooot, Parker.” Clint winced at himself - winced at how phony and awkward he sounded. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey Peter, bud - want to talk about it?” He sat on the edge of the couch, close enough so that he could see Peter, but far enough that if Peter wanted to sit up, or get up to leave, he could do so.

Peter remained silent, so Clint just kept on talking. “I know times can get tough, bud, but you have to come to talk to one of us when you do. We’re here for you. And I know it’s hard to adapt to that, but you really have to understand that. You can’t just bottle things up and hope they’ll go away - and we’ll talk to you. I’m always available! I’ll show you my secret place in the vents!” He lowered his voice at the last part, smiling when Peter gave a small, watery laugh. Clint’s smiled softened as he reached over and rested his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

There was a small moment of silence before the question was asked: “Can I please have a hug?”

Without skipping a beat, Clint replied: “Of course, bud. Sit up, though. I don’t want to lay on you and crush you for a hug.”

(Clint was 99% sure Peter could hear the swell of happiness in his chest when Peter laughed in reply and allowed the archer’s arms to encircle him.)

+1. Thor

“Ah! If it isn’t the Man of Spiders!” Thor’s voice boomed and echoed through the hallway as electric eyes settled on the small figure walking down the hallway. This ‘small figure’ seemed to flinch a little bit, but Thor carried on, passing it off as the initial shock of hearing his loud voice. “Tell me, spiderling - how has your day been? Care to sit on the couch with me and watch The Show of Friends? Tony tells me that it is very funny!”

There was a small passing moment of silence, and Thor was about to repeat himself, but a small voice stopped him from doing so.

“...w-with all due respect, Mister Thor,” Peter’s voice sounded… weird. Like he was trying to hold back a sob. “No thank you. M-maybe another time?” The teenager still hadn’t turned around, much to Thor’s dismay.

And Thor knew that something was 100% wrong.

“...Talk to me, Man of Spiders. Perhaps we could chat about what ails you over a nice cup of tea or hot chocolate. Trust me, keeping things to yourself is never the answer!” Thor jogged so that he was right behind Peter with a bright grin on his face. There was another passing moment with absolute silence. Peter had not moven from his spot except for the small tremors that shook his shoulders. “Please, turn around so we can talk-”

With a heaving sigh (that sounded suspiciously like a sob), Peter turned around, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “N-no thank you, Mister Thor. I promise I’m fine, I just have something in my eye.”

Thor frowned. He wasn’t emotionally inept! The Man of Spiders was hurting! And he had to do something - such a precious child could not be upset! So, before thinking things through, Thor enveloped Peter in a hug that left him enough room to move away if he wanted to, but tight enough so that he could feel safe. If someone was crying, that meant they didn’t feel safe and was upset, right? Comfort was in order!

To Thor’s surprise, Peter began to laugh hysterically. Then, as he suspected, those laughs began to dissolve into small sobs, then Peter began to sob openly, clutching onto Thor’s shirt with his hands. Thor shushed him softly, reaching up to rub his back in small, slow circles.

“I have you, Peter. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

#peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bruce banner #thor odinson #marvel #avengers #can you tell i like angst #not sure if i should post it on ao3 thinking emoji #eh ill figure it out

4 notes · View notes

lesbeet · 7 years ago

Text

long post ahead

ive been thinking nonstop about the possibility of me having adhd since my sister and her boyfriend brought it up to me last week (i’m FINALLY seeing my therapist today so we can talk about it) and i’ve been doing a lot of research and i found the howtoadhd channel on youtube

and literally the number of times in the past 2 hours alone that i’ve teared up or started legitimately crying because of how much i relate to things that these videos are saying is ridiculous, like some of them are word-for-word things i’ve said that i had NO inkling of an idea could be related to adhd

like this one video of this guy who was diagnosed at 43 and said that prior to his diagnosis he had just accepted that he would feel dissatisfied for his whole life, that he would never feel content, i’ve been saying that for YEARS and just was resigned to it and chalked it up solely to my depression

and just like. having been able to do well in school as a kid but constantly being told that i’m “not living up to [my] potential” and now that i’m in my early 20s and my intelligence can’t compensate for like....not being able to regulate my emotions and not being able to organize my life and not being able to motivate myself to do things, which is supposedly why a number of people get diagnosed around this time, because metrics for success are different in adulthood (you can’t just take a test and rely on being smart to compensate for all the other problems), and i was always just. thinking that i fucked up and wasted my life through laziness or whatever the case may be

i’ve always considered myself to be “crafty” and “resourceful” in the sense that i may not go about doing things in the typical way but i can almost always find a way to accomplish what i need accomplished, even if it’s unconventional -- apparently that’s common with adhd too! like i’ll say “oh i couldn’t figure out how to do [x] so i did [y and z]” and someone will be like “why didn’t you just do [thing everyone else does]” and usually i either couldn’t figure out how, or it didn’t occur to me, and my way was weird and unconventional, but it worked for me!

and then of course i’m just recognizing all these signs that have always been there that i either didn’t notice or attributed to other things -- i’ve been trying to observe the way my attention functions this week and literally i space out and miss things SO much more often than i ever realized, like i miss so much information because i’ve drifted off. or i get really stuck on things in conversations and even after everyone else has moved on i have this urge to bring it back so i can say that last thing i’ve been rehearsing over and over for the past 5 minutes so i didn’t forget it, and now it’s in my head and everyone is talking about something else and it’s SO inconsequential but i have to forcibly drag myself away from whatever the thing is (yesterday my sister and her friend and i were talking about early 2000′s fashion and i wanted to make a comment about wearing ugly scarves as belts and they saw a dog and moved on to talking about cute things our dogs have done and i just couldn’t stop thinking about the scarves as belts thing for like 10 minutes until i just had to sigh and be like...well i can’t bring that up again now)

when i was younger i would rush through tests so i could go back to whatever book i was reading and i just thought it was a silly quirk like “oh i just like to read lol” but i realized i still do similar things -- if i’m reading a book or watching a show or working on something, THAT is what i’m doing. anything else, whether it’s work or sleep or eating or hanging out with a friend or fulfilling any sort of responsibility? that’s a break from the thing i’m doing. if i’m reading a book, even if it’s the 3rd time i’m rereading harry potter for the year, for example, then in my head, i’m reading harry potter. i have to go to work all day but then i can read harry potter. all i’m doing is thinking about reading harry potter. i rush through my responsibilities so i can go BACK to reading harry potter, because that’s what i’m doing and anything else is just taking a break from reading harry potter. (you see how this can negatively affect the accomplishment/fulfillment of important tasks and responsibilities)

and my sister has pointed out things that i didn’t really notice, like she said it’s really difficult to hold a conversation with me when i’m excited about something because i can’t calm down enough to let the other person talk. and i’ve always known that i tend to finish peoples’ sentences for them during conversations, which i always thought was a way of showing that i’m listening! but ive realized it’s actually that, if i already know what you’re going to say, and you’re saying it too slowly, i get impatient and i need to blurt out the rest for you so we can move on and i can say my next thing before i forget it

and like obviously all people experience some symptoms some of the time, daydreaming isn’t exclusive to adhd, neither is walking into a room and forgetting what you’re doing there. but this week as i’ve been paying attention, i notice i do it CONSTANTLY. the other night i opened up my phone before bed because i remembered i hadn’t set my alarm, so i picked it up from where i place it for the night (i was about to go to sleep). 15 minutes later i put my phone back down and decided to turn in for the night again, and then realized i still had never turned the alarm on because i got distracted and did other stuff. and things like that happen with almost comical regularity, now that i know to look for it.

i’ve known i have executive dysfunction issues for a long time so i won’t go into those, but like we’ve known i have problems with directions and organization and spatial processing and knowing how to complete tasks for a long time

the rejection-sensitive dysphoria is something i didn’t really realize was part of adhd, but it makes SO much sense. i think it’s part of why i thought i had bpd for a while, because a lot of the symptoms were similar and i knew i was dealing with something more than just depression and anxiety but didn’t know what, and a lot of the symptoms i experienced also seemed to fit the bpd diagnosis even if my actual behavior and personality didn’t seem to

there are so many more things i’ve noticed this week and thought about differently but i literally can’t remember what they are lmao i think i’m gonna try to write stuff down so i don’t forget to tell my therapist today but like.

so many of these things i didn’t realize had anything to do with adhd, like emotional dysregulation, i’ve always known i have horrible mood swings and trouble regulating my emotions, i’ve always noticed a lot of these different symptoms but it never occurred to me that they could all be part of the same thing??

like i haven’t been tested or diagnosed yet and i’m worried i’m getting carried away but the only time i’ve ever felt this sort of relief was a few months ago when realizing my dad is a narcissist. like the feeling of “oh my god, i knew this was something i experienced but i didn’t think i could attribute it to anything” and “oh my god, this is word for word something i say all the time, i didn’t realize it was part of a pattern”

and it genuinely made me cry! hearing people talk about things that describe me that i never would have guessed might have to do with adhd, finding something that seems to encompass a very broad range of symptoms that i previously thought were unrelated or results of a myriad of things (and obviously they all play off of one another but that’s a whole separate issue)

but it would explain so much of my behavior and challenges -- why i struggle with finishing up a task or project once the big, complicated part is done; why i get super obsessed with something and then once it wears off i never mention or think about it again; why i’ve always needed my mom’s help to clean my closet or pack for a trip, even though i felt like i was way too old to need help with that; why people constantly are like “i know you heard me say this because you said ‘ok’” about things i genuinely have no recollection of

but i just can’t stop thinking about that guy talking about how he was just resigned to thinking he would never been satisfied or content with his life because that is something i have been feeling and saying FOREVER, for years ive just been like “everything is so hard, the idea of spending the rest of my life struggling to get up in the morning and going to work every day, dealing with all my responsibilities, i feel like i’m exhausted and underwater just thinking about it, i’m never going to feel fulfilled or satisfied, it’s always just going to be slogging through my responsibilities and it’s never going to end” and apparently that’s....a normal thing, and i just thought it was depression and maybe part of it is, but maybe the reason i struggle so much with those every day things is because my brain is wired differently?

and maybe i’ve fucked up because at this point i think i’ll be really disappointed if i don’t get the diagnosis because i’m not really sure what else could explain these issues, it certainly makes sense and i feel like it fits and i feel relieved just thinking about having that answer, and it certainly negatively impacts almost every aspect (if not every aspect) of my life. so like if i don’t get diagnosed idk what i’m gonna do and i probably fucked up by spending the last week obsessing over it lol

but like....the relief i feel every time i read or hear or see someone with adhd say “i experience [x]” and i’m like holy shit??? me too???? and it just. feels like maybe there’s an explanation for all this horrible dissatisfaction and unhappiness i thought i was going to be stuck with for the rest of my life, and there are other people who experience these things and there are things that can be done, medication and therapy and strategies and...my whole life doesn’t NEED to feel like a challenge, maybe it’s not an indisputable fact that i’m just going to have to live with forever.

if you read this far and you have adhd (especially if you were diagnosed after childhood) i would love to hear your thoughts on this, obviously i didn’t list every single symptom and experience and i know there are more but these are all i could think of at the moment, if i seem like i’m way off base obviously please let me know

#me.txt #adhd #long post //#honestly if you read this whole thing....thank you #also don't rb obviously #adhd tag

80 notes · View notes

xz017 · 6 years ago

Text

oof. okay so imma do the latest tea???

got out of shower to hear my mum talkin to Agnes spillin the tea abt their friend/coworker

the one with that Kid my mum wanted to have a playdate with or whatever the annoyingly studious and clearskinned halfasian lookin girl i really envied.

her mum has a live in boyfriend who is basically like...an alcoholic mental case rip god i hate alcohol and i hate people who drink it like i only do it so i hate myself more and die but like this guy basically playin with knives n guns in the house and the kid who is like 19 idk why im callin her kid is so Over it like apparently she hasn’t been coming home and like

basically me in 2016 era when my mum was too generous n Helpful lettin ppl back into our lives and our House so i spent christmas morning 5am walkin in the cold n watchin 3 films until it got dark and stuff like that

girl be actin homeless---mood

so it came to a head today so Agnes is spillin the tea n her husband in the bg(omg it weird hearin him rip he was my military hs instructor wild) n my mUM is so selfrighteous n mad like

‘blablahblah well rosalie is being dumb she should put her daughter first she being sick in the head it her Choice’

n im like eavesdroppin havin warflashbacks of the dumb hypocrisy she has DOne lmao

‘has she no thought like what if Tyler gets raped/sexually abused by that man she’d let her daughter be in that environment???’

i mean it wouldnt be fair of me to be like...eyemoji on this cos she technically doesn’t know? but 19 may 2018 never4get lmao

anyway so my mum’s like our room is for rent and it’ll be far cheaper they dont even have to pay rn!!!

cue me being like...um...Money...generosity...i dont...LIke

i was conflicted here like idk i met the girl like 3-5 times im envious of her work ethic n her better asian disposition than mine cos she obviously prettier but she has better prospects and that’d suck if her life be like that

but also??? like...life be like that it was like that to me like who saved me?????????????????????

um...no one

like why is that on me or US TO BE NICE n helpful im so tired like damn which is relevant to the next point anyway

cos earlier had a convo with my mum i was eyemojing healthcare profs i was like ‘pls stop bein on ye phone pls tell me info on ye opinion on respiratory therapists...what abt PA’

n deadass she be eyemojing me like STICK TO YOUR COURSE

n i was like...-ugly pleadin emoji eyes- n i was tryin to explain that i didn’t want to be so focused on one thing that if i decide this medical thing is what i want to pursue i’d need 1-2 years just for the PREREQS which is like 5 classes and 1000 clinical hours or minimum 6 month healthcare paid job. like if i decide i want to go to school for that i already have the Stuff and just Apply.

n she was like...you had your chance i bothered you to be a nurse a few years ago you were stubborn if you did as i said you’d be earning good money now but you wasted time

n i was like...oof i can’t say anything to that it’s tru. it real life tea it fax i wasted time n im old n im ruunnin out of time i hate myself alot i hate hate hate

and idk we got to talkin abt money n life cos she was like you have to find something you can learn to LOve

n i was like??? WHY I GOTTA SETTLE N FOOL MYSELF TO DO SO im super annoyed abt that mindset

cos the thing about a bloody Arts degree is there’s too fuckin many broad possibilities n they all aint even that good. like deadass if i was a STEM major ugh like if i was a Bio major prospects are so clear: forensics, research, premed,labtech. Meanwhile polsci for example: uhhh teacher? prelaw? politician? uhhh government work? n there’s like 111 different subdivisions of that n it’s like??? wat the fuck

deadass what am i gonna do with international security is that even gonna pay well like...the fuck do i know is it relevant ??? Doubts

n she was all like...PEOPLE JUST GOTTA DO WHAT THEY HAVE TO TO SURVIVE YOU GOTTA FIND YOURS N STICK WITH IT

n i was lowkey panique n frustrated cos i really REALLY hate being stuck in 1 ting n im like i HAD ACTING YOU SAID NO

n she was like pFF i wanted you to have something REAL cos if you dont make it in acting you’d be on the STREETS

n i was like...lmao lil did she know imma be on the streets next year smh this year actually

n she was like talkin abt the harsh reality of the workforce and how you gotta make do at how ppl treat you (patients) n how you might not even like your coworkers but you gotta deal with it because that’s what ppl do to survive

n she was talkin abt undeserving patients with no healthcare n i was like did you just hear yourself so you want them to die cos they dont got money and she was like

no??? why get hooked up in the ICU when you’re braindead wasting government money taxes we payed for you don’t understand cos you dont have a job and dont get your salary cut cos of taxes and these people come in acting like they got something to give when they yell at your face acting like they know what they’re talking about they act entitled when they have nothing homeless ppl getting money and illegal immigrants are selfish bringing their kids to be hurt here

n im like...theyre life is ...shitty what are you talkin about n she was like so? why dont they stay and make it better??? one of my very first patients asked me why i was in america and i said i come from a poor country and they said why didn’t you stay and try to make it better? and i couldn’t say anything cos u know what they were right why dont illegal immigrants do that??? n im like...

cos theyre literally...RUNNIN and they want ppl they care abt i.e. children to be far away from that as soon as possible bruh ye think imma wait for change deadass there a reason why we suffer duterte he actually get shit done??? we dont have to wait for change the same way ppl who speak nice n are polite do but is stuck with bureaucracy and lowkey bein corrupt deadass stay in ye lane

n she’s like well i hope you’re right im done bein an idealist im a realist now i believed in good i wanted to help the world now no more

n im like...no you’re not a realist, you’ve just been hangin out with a republican

and she gave me a sideeye

but deadass im ...scared like i really hate the empathy because when she was being serious n talkin n being honest abt things for once i started to unwillingly see things from her point of view i really felt it n i was scared i’ll be like that im scared she’s right

im scared i’ll end up Real n selfish like...i already am ? n bitter? like i care about so very few Personally and am willin to let others suffer to keep it safe n prioritised?

im scared.

like especially with racism all these years my mum’s been telling me it’s not that im racist just wait til you work with them they act so entitles and loud and make everything about race

n i almost told Her abt it earlier i skyped w her earlier we had a tea spillin moment about our ethnic relations bein racist but then idk we talked alot i guess the text got buried or unseen

like i said i was scared n didn’t get to unpack it like im scared because ive been livin with my roomate and like...ive been excusing it as a personality thing and that if it were anyone else different skin colour id still hate them just the same which i still maintain is true but like?

my RM is loud n she makes everything abt race like deadass me n my FM be just eating dinner and she passes by us and goes on a rant about harvard asians being a Blok to black ppl from getting There n im like...im tryna have dinner so i can get energy to deal with this stressful ass school

n she always talks like she knows what she’s talking about like ‘jewish ppl control the federal bank’ n im like...it 1am in the dark quiet of our shared room deadass i dont wanna tell the binch thats antisemitism cos she gonna be like im black how can i be racist smh

im!!! scared alright like i hate my roomate for proving my mum right when i try so hard to set things right like maybe that’s why i dont tell anyone about my situation other than Her. i never told my parents about the berkeley livin situation they already warn me enough to be careful n i just keep tellin them thats racist

i have so much........THOUGHTS n........DILEMMAS...n FEARS but like i just have this blog i cant trust anyone else to talk abt it n the only person i am willing to talk to abt it will be busy and im so ashamed abt these things but she was so sweet about givin me the heads up about her schedule

like i hated that i had to get an ugly ass haircut today cos she came back to me n we couldve talked so i guess rip she was complacent n did stuff cos she replied late from then on like that dumbass haircut was 15 minutes ugh. our talkin pattern today was like...dashed lines timereply wise? i asked her if she packed earlier (pre haircut)n she said yes but rip a few hours later she was like...I need to pack

wat is the truth rip

the tablet bein emo like...mood but my child rip.

my love be packin n spendin time with fam before leavin for london tomorrow

n even after that she doin...Stuff. rip.

which is ye know good for her rip.

i just hope she dont go iceskatin deadass one slip n she can crack her head open or break her neck or paralyse her spine like...??? why do humans wanna do dumb activities

like omg she admitted to me today she a serial jaywalker and WORSE with music n headphones like

binch thats why i didnt wanna enable you further by gettin ye airpods deadass bye

n she was like??? tryna equate it with my risky risk like ummm

mine is for science n validity

hers is just carelessness n chosin lazy convenience over idk...the responsibility of self vigilance like...

bruh ppl shouldnt promise someone 91 years if they be continuin to do dumb stuff consciously oof rip

but other than that like...im...really proud of this resolution she be undertakin officially on the 14th?

im nervous abt it cos i really want it for her too. i want her to get the proper sleep n i always hated her givin excuses like ‘IM FINE ON 4 HOURS OF SLEEP’ ‘I NAPPED 3 HOURS 38293820 HOURS AGO IM FINE I MADE UP FOR IT’ um...blokt. get proper sleep binch i love you tf???

prioritise work cos ye gonna regret not givin it yer all??? n ye payin for this???

what fun??? we capitalists now we want that money rip.

i see that shift you know rip i saw it comin a year ago.

that dont mean we republicans rip we still care about others n the inequality? but like i foresaw us getting acquainted with the harsh reality of the world n how difficult it is to get a job--which she experienced along the way.

n rip she wants many things bookmarkin them n honestly same rip

i want a stable warm home for this family n a shiny diamond to get disassociated by extra im a simple man

meanin im selfish n im ready to prioritise meanin im ready to make the choice for others to fall apart/behind if it means puttin This first rip

god pls dont make me a republican this so ugly

# 1 she’d hate me #2 i’d hate me

now im sad

im dead.

omg rip earlier too as she said goodbye i told her i loved her and she was like ‘i love you more’

DEADASS I WAS LIKE LMAO!!! girL i dont think you understand im literally Ready to put you and our possible future First like...im not messin around what skitrips with rich ppl what friends my love is potent n extreme n COncentrated like im sorry ik you feel love for me but you cant top This rip she not ready

like the um ‘partially wanna make my life’s work abt knowin what might hurt n kill ye so i can kill it first or blok it well’ kinda love

the ‘im already savin for at least HALF a first month deposit in an overpriced london in case you wanna settle down wit me Mayhaps n im not touching it for ANYTHING’ kinda love

the ‘im thinking of a winter home in the tropics so you suffer less n im plannin the floorplans already rip just in case’ kinda extraness

but anyways the gall of this cute lovely human rip ‘i love you more’ ummm try Again smh

bruh i love her too much i bet that’s scary for her rip it might be a Burden tbh she so young rip

meanwhile im old n ready to rot but like...

i wanna be mortal wit ye before i do

but ye know wat lads i saw myself in the mirror today like 5 times OOF. this meatform...keepin me...Humble.

bitter but like...humble

‘like of course sHe not ready not only is my personality like dis but also...my outward form how could she introduce me as a Spouse’

‘wow i look like that oof it good i remembered i am undeservin of full intense love like in the films n fanfiction they always between attractive ppl after all it only 1/2 it not Equal’

‘wow bruh ye really upset she spendin time n resources elsewhere when you be lookin like That? ye dont have much to offer bro take the L’

oof so that’s the personal tea i can think of?

had a meghan marke talk rip i can’t believe i was right??? i had twin vibes!!! but i was hoping for like a variety situation rip im worried a lil abt the whole birthin Late ting but she can afford the highest care rip it fine she rich.

my love was talkin abt how pretty MM was n i was like rip is she triggerin Her a lil rip worrirooni

rip speakin of babies like she was showin me this smol gummybear n im like same das me heart n she was like :( n i was like it only fits you

n she was like so no children then:(

n i was like!!! rip if it Ours of course that Counts n i was a lil shook like rip she said she didn’t want them Really so i always get guilty when i talk abt the future or realise i mentioned kids or carelessly name drop Hyaline n Benzion like...im dead rn just typin that like what if she read this big shame bro

but ye know what this is already long n she gonna be busy maybe that’s the key. TOo Much puts ppl OFF so ye mayhaps we sneaky ! ?

anyway i was tryin to get her thoughts on it rip but like she was all iDK ASK ME IN 13 Yrs n i was like...

sighemoji + sandemoji + resignedemoji

rip we talked FAaC a lil. cos she Dared!!! to liken me to her brother just cos i showed her my cheap youth boy shoes smh

At first i was super offended n disgusted but then i was like rip eyemoji if ye into that

then she was like ew nO

then i was like um ye already play the ‘daddy u like me young huh’ card

which is like idk is like technically? joking but it’s like that post ye know abt ppl bein ‘whether or not im actually jokin or flirtin depends if you into it’ but also like schrodingers racism like ‘it was a joke bro!!!’ but they actually bigots.

so it DIFFICULT for my brain to Confirm rip like...eyemoji what is the truth

but like??? im rip. willin. rip. to. rip. Try. rip.?

really i am rip. it Her. bruh. im only hopin she dont have a golden shower kink but. trust i...Will follow thru.

nO IM REMEMBERIN THE DOO DOO POST DESPAIR

rip anyway that whole thing reminded me of FAaC origins which was porn n then somehow sHe was like imagine if egggsy was a singer he’d sing like ‘age is just a number’ shit n i SPILLED THE TEA ABOUT A TING IN PT 3 im so weak sand

i miss the gays

i wanna give them justice n happiness but the 2027 excuse is rl nice for my ugly procrastination issues oof but i wish them well

add: rip had another talk with my mum i really wanted her to understand my thought process about wanting to get the prereqs for medtraining done beforehand

n she was like...I UNderstand but Normal people--

n i was like ‘IM NOT NORMAL I DONT KNOW HOW TO CHOOSE I HAVE NO IDENTITY’

n she’s just like SHOOKE n mad n clearly dont understand that im fukt up in the head ‘...IC AN’T BELIEVE YOU!!! iF YOU’RE ABNORMAL YOU WONT GET HIRED N YOU WONT HAVE A NICE JOB’

n im like...well i mean what can i say to that it’s not like it’s not tru rip

Big sand honestly.

it gonna be a long few days imma do my best to leave her alone she needs her time rip i love her so much rip sand

i feel like a dumb ugly dog god fljækadfkøad h8

#personal tea #read more only #entry

3 notes · View notes

starsandsupernovae · 7 years ago

Text

Terrible Ideas Chapter Three

BlackHill

It’s here finally!!! It took forever, I’m sorry about that to anyone who was waiting. Thank you so so much to @acastleintheair who read and edited and also is an amazing person who i would die for. And if anyone wants to be tagged in future chapters please just comment or send an ask!

Until now Natasha hadn’t realized how little human contact she had been accustomed to. Not meeting people or talking to them, she did that most days, but actual human touch-that, she realized had been rare. Perhaps she would find someone willing and able to spar with her but even that was hard to find, those who were able to fight her were those who tended to keep busy putting their skills to use. Natasha wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely person as her few friends could attest. It had never bothered her before.

But now, with Maria staying over most nights, she was aware of how much they touched, from the casual brush of their hands while they prepared dinner to waking up with Maria’s arms around her, holding her tight, something that from anyone else would have woken her as soon as she was touched and probably ended with the other pinned to the floor. It was almost surprisingly nice, and she had gotten used to it easily. Which is why now, when Maria was needed overnight, the silence in her apartment sounded strange, it felt too empty.

“It’s not like that.” she told Liho who was curled up on her lap, perking up for a moment at her voice, staring at her judgmentally.

“No, really. I’m just used to having another person around. I don’t miss her. I literally saw her this morning.”

Liho continued to stare, unimpressed.

“No one misses a person who’s just a friend who’s gone for one night when they don’t even live here.” Natasha continued.

Liho managed to convey an utter lack of belief combined with a complete lack of interest in a single noise.

“Yeah, okay, you useless feline.” Natasha dropped her to the floor where she stalked off, tail in the air in search of something more interesting.

Because she knew the truth was that she did miss Maria’s presence, no matter how much she tried to convince Liho and herself that she didn’t. She got up, intending to go to sleep, telling herself it had nothing to do with the fact that in the morning she’d see Maria again providing that one of them would be in the wrong place which the two of them seemed to be doing increasingly these days.

Natasha knew she was only around Maria’s office because she wanted to see her, and she wondered what brought Maria over to Natasha’s side of the building so often. Whatever it was she was thankful for it.

She prepared for bed as any other night. But something was different. Missing. She lay down staring blindly at the ceiling, the cracks of light floating in between the curtains hardly enough to illuminate basic shapes, the moonlight obscured by heavy clouds, a dreary drizzle pattering at the window pane. She focused on it awhile, tried to let it flood her mind instead of letting it be the background noise to the thoughts she couldn’t force away.

Nights like this weren’t uncommon. Nights where sleep wouldn’t take her away and she had to lie alone with herself and all she had done, all she had become. It was a failure of sorts, a weakness to regret the past instead of planning for the future. But no matter how hard she tried, the past didn’t leave, and she couldn’t leave it. On nights like this, where the noise of the rain turned to Tchaikovsky in her mind, when the walls became mirrored, the room bright, the floor polished wood, when she could still hear the Madames in her mind teaching them to be beautiful, graceful and lethal, on these nights, the past came to her.

These nights had grown less frequent recently, and Natasha knew why, the warmth of Maria’s arms around her counteracted the cold of the unheated halls, her light breathing drowned out the voices of the Madames, her presence scared the ghosts away. But tonight she wasn’t here, and the ghosts had no fear of Natasha alone. She lay still, waiting for it to past, not wanting to remember, not wanting to return.

At last she fell into an uneasy sleep, full of whispers and ice cold rooms, bleeding toes and gunshot wounds, beauty, grace, and the ugliness that went into creating it.

Because that’s what it was, she mused in the misty realm between sleep and consciousness. Ugliness covered up. That’s what she was. Ugliness covered in a facade of beauty. Twisted black evil wrapped in a white silk leotard, dancing in snowy silk slippers. She wondered that no one had seen it yet but of course, the white covered so much, her facade of goodness. The mask that she wore, so white and strong but oh so delicate, and she just knew that if anyone got too close, if anyone so much as reached out and touched, it’d crumble away. And no one wanted what was underneath

She had been letting someone close though, someone had somehow slipped from the audience for whom she was constantly performing to backstage where she truly existed. But this new player could come no closer, no matter how much she craved her, for then the mask would fall. And then, who would be left? No, better like this, better with the performance, better with the mask, better with the distance. It was better. She repeated this like a mantra and had finally drifted off when the phone rang, the sharp noise interrupting the first real sleep she had been able to get.

She woke immediately, sitting bolt upright and grabbing at it, looking at the name flashing on the screen.

“This better be good, Fury.” she answered, letting her displeasure at being called at 2:30 in the morning seep into her tone. Fury wouldn’t care of course, but she liked to let him know.

“Would I call you if it wasn’t serious?” barked the Director. His words were expected but his tone wasn’t, the underlying stress creeping in unfamiliar to her. “It’s Hill.”

“Maria?” Natasha’s voice was calm, as her heart picked up pace. She was already getting out of bed, dressing and gathering up her weaponry, readying herself to fight.

“She’s hurt.” Fury answered. “She said to let you know. She’s been stabbed by something probably not of Earth origin so we’re keeping her in medical here.”

“I’m on my way.” Natasha answered, hanging up before Fury could reply. She was out the building barely a moment later, into the night, following the dim light of a street lamp cutting through the darkness to her car.

She was driving on autopilot, trusting her body to drive to the triskelion while her mind buzzed with questions, one after the other. Was Maria gravely injured? Why had Fury called her? How had she gotten hurt? Why couldn’t she go to a standard hospital?

At last she arrived, making her way into the building and to the medical wing faster then she would have thought possible. A nurse came up to her as she entered, reaching to tap her on the shoulder before thinking the better of it and withdrawing.

“Agent Romanoff?”

“Yes.” Natasha answered tersely, desperate for information.

“Agent Hill is down here.” The nurse said, gesturing down a hallway before leading Natasha down. They walked for a few minutes, Natasha asking questions the nurse would only respond to with

“Agent Hill’s doctor will explain.”

At last, they reached a door where the nurse stopped, taking out a key card and pressing it against the small panel on the wall. The door slid open and she gestured for Natasha to enter before turning and walking back the way they had come.

Natasha walked in to see Maria propped up with pillows in a bed, IV dripping some sort of fluid into her arm. She was pale but awake and smiled as Natasha came in.

“Hey, Nat,” Maria said, as she tried to sit up further and winced with apparent pain.

“Maria,” Natasha answered pulling up a chair from the side of the room and sitting. “I got a call from Fury saying you were hurt.”

“Yeah. I’m fine now. Mostly.” Maria said, lifting the blanket to show her left leg which was heavily bandaged. Dark green streaks rose out from the bandage, twining around her leg, creeping up towards her torso and down towards her foot, deep ugly veins of poison. But even as Natasha looked they were fading, retreating back towards the wound.

“We just thought I wouldn’t be. Couldn’t find an antidote, then we had to pull out some alien tech we’re not supposed to have and on some research, we weren’t supposed to have conducted. Fury probably called you before we realized we could cure me. He shouldn’t have woken you though, I’ll be completely fine. They’re letting me go in a few hours, so long as everything goes well.” Maria said, drawing the blanket back over herself.

“Because when do things ever go wrong?” Natasha asked, but her sarcastic tone was undercut by her smile and the way the tension bled out of her, legs crossing and shoulders untensing as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

“It’s fine, wasn’t getting much sleep anyway. And now you’ve got someone to drive you home when they let you go. Unless you’re planning to go straight to your office and work afterward.” Natasha said with a look indicating that the latter was the wrong option.

“I can’t actually,” Maria said. “I’m not supposed to be fine remember? I have to stay low profile while a cover story is fabricated for how I’m okay.” Maria suddenly looked uncomfortable, and Natasha tilted her head, a questioning look on her face.

“The tech we had, the serum they were able to synthesize- there wasn’t a lot of it.” Maria started to say slowly. “But there were a lot of people hurt.”

“And those people weren’t the vice director of SHIELD.” Natasha finished for her, understanding.

Maria nodded.

“And you took it. All of it.” There was no judgment in Natasha’s voice as she spoke.

“Yes.” Maria looked away from her as the word left her lips, but then her eyes swung up to meet Natasha’s again, owning the decision, even if it had not been fully hers, even if she had been half dead when the cure was administered.

“And the others?” Natasha asked.

Maria shook her head.

Natasha nodded.

She understood. And they sat in silence, Natasha reaching out her hand to hold Maria’s offering her the comfort she couldn’t speak. There were so many things she could say, that it wasn’t Maria’s fault, that she didn’t hurt them, that she had had to take the cure, that it was experimental in the first place, that it wasn’t her fault it worked. But there was nothing, she knew, that would actually mean anything right now. So they sat in silence, Maria’s hand resting in Natasha’s as all of the unspoken words hung in the air.

At last, Natasha broke the silence.

“You can stay with me if you like. While you’re waiting for SHIELD to announce your miraculous recovery.”

Maria’s grip on her hand relaxed a bit as her mouth turned up just a bit.

“Thanks,” she said.

And Natasha understood.

#blackhill #natasha romanoff/ maria hill #natasha romanoff #maria hill #Black Widow #blackhill fic #my writing #dani writes #my fics

50 notes · View notes