#MY FUCKING PARENTS FOR. and buying all my own groceries and doing all the laundry and doing all the dishes AND TAKING CARE OF THEIR CATS TO

[borom1r]

ineed to soundproof my fucking floors if i stay here.

[eats-the-stars]

feeling pretty frustrated lately. i feel like my sister is in a "eat your cake and have it too" situation that is making me kind of resentful.

living situation is this: our dad, me, my sister, her boyfriend, their two kids (2 and 5).

the problem is that I think my sister is, without any malicious intent, using me as a replacement parent to her kids. because her boyfriend does jack shit and gets away with it because I'M picking up the slack.

he's not a bread-winner or a stay-at-home dad. he makes basically no money at his "hobby-job" as a martial arts instructor. like, barely breaks even, which i know because my sister does his taxes (and everything else). he does TWO chores. puts away clean laundry and unloads the dishwasher. he also watches the 2yo for a few hours 5 days a week. like 2-4 hours tops. nothing else.

i work Friday/Sat/Sun, sister is home sat/sun, and on Fridays, or if i work a Wednesday, he takes the 2yo to his mom's place so she can watch him.

in comparison, I watch the 2yo 4 days a week from the moment i wake up until my sister gets home at 4pm with the 5yo.

I do mealtimes, bath-times, brushing teeth, homework, bed-times, doctor/dentist appointments, outings, play-times and also contribute to rent, get groceries for the kids and my sister, cook for them (sister also buys groceries and cooks, boyfriend does not), and clean. with 2 toddlers the cleaning is intense and constant. especially in the kitchen. i'm sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, scrubbing, washing dishes, preparing meals, doing a ton of other random cleaning like wiping countertops, scrubbing down the stovetop, taking out the trash, crushing cans. you know, the stuff you do when you live somewhere.

my sister works as hard as i do. both in terms of making money at her job (I have two jobs, she has one, both with comparable pay). she cooks and cleans.

my issue is that her slacker boyfriend is doing jack shit and living the easy life on the back of the work I'M doing to raise his fucking kids. it's a hard place, because I love my nephews and I'm happy to get to make lunches and help with homework and play in the bath and the backyard and take them to the apple orchard and grocery shopping and play hide and seek and color and read them bed-time stories. it's amazing. BUT. it's also incredibly galling to see him sitting pretty with the title Dad and no effort put in to back it up.

Like, I do all this work, every day, because I love my nephews. I want to make them scrambled eggs and pancakes and keep them clean and happy and healthy. So I'm DOING things to feed them and clean them and make them happy.

He's just sitting on his ass occasionally changing a diaper and making sure they don't totally trash the house and does two chores. And that's it. Done. And somehow that's enough? Everyone else is fine with this?

Slowly losing my mind. Also pissed that my sister is too spineless to either force him to step up, or kick him out. But it makes sense, because the easiest option for her is to do nothing.

She gets me playing the role of Parent #2, and she gets to keep her boyfriend around and avoid the drama of a breakup or the effort of forcing him to do more.

The only one losing out here is me.

But it's hard because I love my nephews and I'll probably never have kids of my own. I would be perfectly fine stepping up to be Parent #2 for my nephews...if Parent #2 wasn't already right here doing fuck all with no pressure to step up his game.

I might need to have another serious talk with my sister about this (I had one before and she said she would make him do more, but "more" just seems to be...not a lot, so...).

If she does nothing, though, I'll just continue being cold to this waste of space and hope that the best reward will be his own fucking kids loving their Auntie more than him. Fingers crossed they get older and think back and realize he was all talk and no action.

Helps that he hates going on any kind of trips with the kids, so he literally hasn't even been there for like 85% of our family outings.

Also one of my nephews has apraxia that makes him incapable of speech, so he uses an AAC device and also ASL, but guess who isn't bothering to learn any sign language? Ding-ding! You are correct, deadbeat dad! all he knows are a handful of simple signs that would be really hard to avoid learning when u live w/someone who signs.

So yeah, sit there jamming out on the couch and sweet-talking my sis all you want, douchebag. I don't know if your kids will hate you for being "just some guy" who also lived in the same house, but they sure won't love you as much as they love me.

[medicinemane]

Get real tired of my mom

I ask her if she can like... actually do some laundry if I bring it down to her so we can store clean stuff in an organized way instead of dirty trashbags full of it

Answer is basically "I guess", though she made very sure to tell me not to put it in the middle of the dinningroom because that would be in her way for doing yoga... cause you know, the default is to assume I fuck everything up and am just kind of a selfish asshole with no forethought

(Only reason I'd do that is if I was trying to like... actually fucking make her help, but I don't tend to be that petty)

So I go and I clean out this... it's not the nastiest thing I've seen by a long shot, but it's a hamper that has a lot of some kinda powder in the bottom and a bit of fly prints around the side, and I spend like 15 minutes scrubbing it down the best I can with hydrogen peroxide and then finishing with rubbing alcohol to... to hopefully at least kill anything gross on the bits I couldn't get fully clean (cause I suck and I can never get anything totally clean)

Then, I go to eat one of the things she picked up from arby's. The other day she discovered that she could stop by the grocery store, pick up bread and meat and make herself a sandwich and have more food for home for cheaper than fast food... so she 100% is never doing that again

Whatever, she gets some and she (for once, there's plenty of times she doesn't and basically fuck me getting diner) brought me home some stuff... which as I expected I found that she ate one of, cause she can eat anything in the house, so the best thing is to always eat something I can actually stomach

But you know... that's not even the part that irritates me most with it, it's that she couldn't even throw out the fucking wrapper

Like... just take it 2 feet to the trash instead of leaving it on the stove

If it wouldn't be super disruptive and just kind of cruel, I'd legit just go tell her to get the fuck out. Like... you don't help me clean up after you, you constantly make a mess, she's legit one of the main reasons I'm constantly saying how worthless I am (and the people most responsible were her parents, who she'd literally take me over to so they'd give her money, so like she indirectly has a part in the rest of it), so... why the fuck should I keep letting you stay here?

Life would be so much fucking easier without you here, I might actually be able to clean the place up... I might be able to enjoy some quiet... I might not have to play therapist to the person who said no one could ever love me... you know?

Like 1200 bucks, that's why. Cause I'm a useless loser who doesn't have an income and can't act on any of the shit that might make me money. Legit that's a whole lot of the reason to let her stay

...the other reason is I'm not heartless and I'm not gonna kick someone out that would probably just go die if I did, but... I don't fucking know

You know, she spends money on a personal assistant for her writing... her writing which makes like... $12 some months

She makes herself miserable taking on like 3 projects every month, and every month swearing that's the end of it, she's not gonna over fill her plate again, and then doing the same thing next month. None of them are her own projects, almost none of them make money, almost all of them are trying to get into charity anthologies for exposure

Which is part of why she can't help me, cause she's always too tired because she's got all these big important projects that she... that she straight up pays money to get into and to have a PA promote

No offense to the PA, sure they do a great job, more it's offense to someone spending money we don't have... and you know... I could even deal with all this, all this, if she'd just... not spend money at walmart to buy stuff I get cheaper at costco... give me money for costco so I can do stuff like... pick up more hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol so I stop having to ration them... pick up toothpaste so I don't have to ration it... if you're gonna blow money on the writing fine, but at least don't blow money on inferior shit from shitty companies

Anyway, I'm just kinda worthless trash and need to blow my brains out already

A gun costs a lot, but frankly it would be a good investment if it got rid of me

[i-just-wanna-be-fuckin-happy]

A List of EASY, Not-Horrible Ways to Keep Your Home DPR (Dinner-Party Ready)

Always make the bed before you leave the house. Going on a trip and dragging yourself out of bed to make your early flight? Make the bed. Hungover and just not in the mood? Make the bed. Running late to work? Make the fucking bed! Just throw the duvet up toward the pillows and be done with it. You have time! Coming home to an unmade bed is unsettling and easily avoidable. Make the bed for a week straight, and I dare you not to feel better about life in general.

Clean the bathroom sink every day. EVERY DAY? Yes. Just keep a delicious Mrs. Meyer’s surface cleaner (rn I’m using “Rosemary”) in the cabinet, and spritz, baby, spritz. It takes like ten seconds. I like to do this at night before I go to bed so that in the morning I wake up to a nice smell and a clean sink. It’s a small thing, but what a way to start your day!

Clean up the party at the party, BUT not in an insane way. This is controversial, but as a party is winding down, start to put dirty glasses in the dishwasher, make sure trash is being put in the actual trash can, and when your friends offer to help clean, never decline. I’m sorry, but you’re not Emily Post. You have nothing to prove. This is not 1920, and good housekeeping is not the only way to prove your worth. Put your friends to work.

Don’t treat your dining room table like a landing zone. Same goes for the kitchen table, the coffee table, the TV dinner tray, or any other flat surface on which you might be tempted to “temporarily” store things. This is not a purgatory for your groceries. I always set up ceramics on the dining room table in a pretty display so I’m not tempted to clutter it up. You won’t be throwing a phone book (yes, someone is still sending me a phone book!), lightbulbs, and that package you must return to Amazon onto your dining room table if on it there is a delightful display of colorful ceramic plates you bought in Mexico City.

Upgrade the basics. Do you know why families (not mine) pass down silverware and crystal and fine china? One, because of weird customs having to do with dowries and “hope chests” and other unpleasant things, but, two, because it’s nice to sit down to a pretty display when you eat. If you were not lucky enough to inherit a special set of plates for holiday meals, might I suggest you go and buy your own? Maybe Goodwill has some pretty floral ones you can mix and match. They don’t have to be expensive; they just have to make you feel special. I upgraded my paper napkins to Japanese textile pieces. They weren’t costly, but they are very me and I love them. I made my place mats by hand-dyeing squares of linen in indigo. The whole project cost maybe fifteen dollars, but every time I set the table I think, How lovely.

Set the table for one. I often eat dinner alone, and I go all out. I’m talking lit candles, a place mat, napkins, silverware, flowers on the table, Ella Fitzgerald playing in the background. If it’s so nice to set the table for guests, why wouldn’t I enjoy the same experience?

Put things away after you use them. I know. Duh. I’m sure your parents told you that a million times. Actually, I’m not sure, because I wasn’t told that. But! If you put your stuff away right after you use it, you can avoid a mess and, even more important, losing things. When I’m done with my rose-gold pen, it goes in its place of honor in my desk drawer. When I’m done with my journal in the morning, it goes straight back into my bedside table. My purse always goes on the little shelf next to my bedroom door. It’s so much easier to know where your things are when you intentionally put them away.

The moment you are back from a trip, unpack. I KNOW. IT’S HORRIBLE. But it works. Within an hour of being at home, even if my flight got in late, even if I had to drive all day to get back, I unpack my bag. Because otherwise, I might never unpack. To help, I keep my dirty laundry from the trip in a pretty travel bag that reads “Please Wash Me” and closes with a big black bow. I keep my underwear in another bag with the words “On Vacation” embroidered in pink. I can easily chuck these cute, presorted little bags into where they belong: the laundry hamper.

Give yourself one corner of disorganization. But I’m talking one corner. A small one. Sometimes, you just don’t know what to do with a broken record player that you know you could get fixed one day. And what about the plastic container full of pictures from high school and letters from your grandmother? Someday I will make a scrapbook, but for now, I have a corner in my home office, hidden by a sofa, where my disorganization lives. It’s about two feet by two feet of stuff I’m just not sure how to handle. While Marie Kondo might say I am living in chaos and the absence of joy, I’m telling you, I feel no less blissful about my life because of it. Of all the things to feel bad about in my life, I am not letting a tiny bit of disorganization be one of them. Sorry, Marie. You can’t make me feel guilty. Not today.

Forgive yourself if your home is not DPR. I was not born into a DPR home, nor did I take pride in maintaining one until I was almost thirty. It took me that long to value how awesome-pinch-me-YES-amazing it feels to live in a place you fucking love. Start small. Don’t get overwhelmed thinking that EVERYTHING HAS TO BE PERFECT. It doesn’t; who said that? Put the plate in the dishwasher, return your running shoes to the bedroom closet (how did they make it into my home office?!), throw away that crazy-long CVS receipt-slash-coupon you’re never actually going to use, and move on with your day.

Don’t worry, I’m still learning too.

[peachyteabuck]

Hey lukis I hope its okay to ask I was wondering if you have any tips/advice for moving out for the very first time from living with your parents cause I've been working and saving up to move out on my own (cause I hate it here everyday istg) and im so happy now im old enough too I'm just lowkey so nervous to move out on my own because well it's all so new and all but I just really have to leave this home (hell) I'm stuck in

Like I just want my apartment and to be happier living there even if I'm alone because at least I'll be way happier than living with my own family who are well transphobic assholes and I just hate it here so much:(( it sucks.

full disclosure i am answering this on my floor because i don't want to go into another part of my apartment lol

biggest thing: i don't think you'll be living alone for a long while. at least in the U.S., living alone is expensive as hell, and landlords might raise standards for approving your apartment. plan on having roommate(s)

there are larger, more comprehensive lists but here's 10 things i wish someone told me before i moved out at 18:

1. adulting takes up way more time than everyone told you. trash & laundry & dishes accumulate quicker, something always needs to be cleaned.

2. everything costs so much fucking money. when you're moving out, you're started from SCRATCH. best advice is to not spend too much. ask around, people usually have extras of stuff they're willing to give away. also, dumpster diving/trash picking is usually worth it. it's where i got my tv AND tv stand. also local no buy groups on facebook

3. have copies of everything. birth certificate, social security card, any other necessary paperwork. keep originals in one place (ideally secure fireproof box), and keep copies in another place. this includes your leases, too.

4. you're going to need to relearn how to do things. did you know you can do dishes SITTING DOWN? or do laundry at the couch while watching tv? or buy a giant pack of paper plates to keep urself with because dishes are hard? i didn't.

5. set boundaries. & stick to them. i have an easy time expressing boundaries with others but the hardest time setting them for myself

6. make friends with people who are smarter than you. keeps you humble and they're the ones to make sure you're on the right track.

7. getting involved with stuff is the best way to make friends. this is easier if you're at school, but there's always stuff around cities and towns.

8. get a hobby you don't intend on monetizing. you do in fact need something to think about besides money

9. if you want a pet, keep at least $3,000 in an emergency fund. some people say $1,500 is ideal but honestly double it

10. daily walks are good for your health. sometimes you gotta put on a silly little podcast and walk aimlessly around your city and buy yourself a little treat from a grocery store with a cat for a manager. personally i'm listening to american scandal and love jarritos.

[early20sfailingplenty]

vent under cut lmao 😭💔

I am... breaking my own heart tonight. I do it every night.

Not on purpose, obviously, but I can feel it coming on me every day; feeling a bit "off" in the morning and it worsens as the day goes on. Whether I drink coffee or not, whether I drink water or not, whether I study or not, whether I'm at work or not. Whether I'm productive or not. Doesn't matter how I do things, I will always feel the same way come night time; when there's nothing for me to keep busy with. By bed time each day, I'm relieved to sleep not only because I'm so tired I have to hold the sink while I brush my hair and teeth to keep from swaying on my feet too much, but also because it means the thoughts go away until I get up in the morning... though most nights I have to have a film on or something to give me something to focus on so I don't rip myself to shreds more than I already do.

I can handle myself most of the time; I've picked myself up off the floor more times than I want to admit to, but tonight, I just... there's an added heaviness to that ache I know so well. Tonight, I'm not just breaking my own heart, because there's a part of me that's enjoying the hurt I'm causing to myself without even trying to. It's a self-destructive spiral symptom, I think, but I'm not sure it's a spiral anymore, I think it's just me being self-destructive in general.

I don't study enough. I'm not saying that out of high self-expectations, though that's also probably true, but I 'studied' - as in, had my materials out - from 6am - 6pm today and I ticked off one thing. One. Thing. Which wasn't even set work but I did it out of curiosity, knowing it could help me later. So I'm a day behind. Again. I don't do enough chores. I buy my own food, I cook my own meals, do my own laundry, I pay rent to my parents, I hold down my job with my studies, I buy in other groceries for them when I get my own if I remember to, but I just... I don't do enough. Mum and dad say I do, but I feel like... I can't trust what they say? In my mind I can always be doing more. I have asks and such which are just sitting there and I've had all day to do all this stuff and I just haven't. I sit there just staring at the screen, doom-scrolling, screaming at myself in my head to do something, eyes watching the clock tick life away, and most times, I do get shit done. Get me in the right mindset and I can do a twelve hour session with little trouble. But most days I have to fight, all the time aware of what I could be doing, counting everything I have yet to do and maybe ignoring what I've already done because it isn't enough.

If I'm not enough for me then how the fuck can I ever be enough for others?

But the stuff really breaking my heart tonight (the above is a constant waking thought; I'm not even out of bed in the mornings before that thought process starts and it doesn't finish until I go to sleep, no matter what I think or go against it or fight it) are the thoughts that my parents don't love me.

I'm watching a comfort show which has a really tight-knit family in it; they all fight and have their moments - big ones - but they love each other hard; it's all just confetti (if you're thinking what I'm thinking, then yes that's the show I'm watching, but if not, then I'm watching The Haunting of Hill House; a very big very important comfort show to me). And it's making me cry because I wish my parents loved me like that. I don't have an especially good relationship with either of them, though I'm definitely much closer to mum than I am to dad, but the way the lead dad looks at his kids, the way the mum lights up when she sees her youngest children, it makes me cry because I've never seen my parents look at me like that. And if they have, I've missed it. I wish I could say with 100% that I'm loved in this house. I feel most times like I'm just... tolerated. I'm just here and if I wasn't, their world would go on not missing a beat. Too small to matter, I just feel sick tonight. Of myself. Of my life. Stuck in my childhood bedroom itching to get out but unable to do so because I can't afford it. Unless I drop my degree and move to full time working at my job. But I don't want that. I don't. So I stay here in this house, feeling like I'm 15 and 24 at the same time, stagnant but wanting so desperately to grow. I want so much to be independent, and I am already, as much as I can be, but I want to be even more so.

I'm just... I hate myself. I have no grace or kindness to give myself right now. I feel sick and gross and like I've fucked everything up and idk if I should keep doing this or just fuck it all and start again... for the third time in the row. I'm... I just. I'm sick of crying alone in my room, I'm sick of pretending I'm fine and laughing with my parents and the second their backs are turned, the smile is gone from my face like it was never even there. My fault for not communicating my feelings to them? For sure, oh yeah, I should be telling them these things. But I don't feel like I can for multiple reasons, one of the biggest ones being that their other two kids are causing them issues and I'm the "only one not giving them any trouble or causing any drama" (to be fair, my other two siblings are MAJORLY messing around, it's really serious with both of them), and I can't and won't add to that. If they think I'm fine, then I'm fine. I'll take care of myself alone. These thoughts etc. all started when I was fifteen and they've been with me that whole time and I'm basically my own therapist. It's a weird feeling, studying a psychology with counselling degree, knowing there's something horribly wrong which I need - actively need - therapy for but knowing that a) all previous doctors have said "you're not sick enough for the free programmes" or "you're functioning on your own so you're fine" and b) that I can't afford the luxury of therapy and c) that I can't even use my own degree to help myself so how the fuck can I ever hope to help someone else in the future?

I'm just sick of it all and idk how much longer I should expect myself to do this... this whole thing is a second attempt to make my life what I want and I love my degree and I love my job but I hate the fact of everything else and I wanna get out and I wanna go away and I wanna be someone else because Erika is not it. She's not, no matter how hard she tries. So fuck it.

I'll go to bed soon and wake up in the morning and feel a bit better but not really and it'll all begin again.

Sigh... what the fuck is the point?

[notkageyamasprincess]

embarrassing things about them | pt. ii

aoba johsai

request: Hey hey hey!!! Your crack hcs about embarassing karasuno sent me into another dimension 😆 when you get a chance, could you embarass seijoh next? PLS EMBARRASS THE SEIJOH 4 ITD BE SO FUNNY @wakeupsunshineee

request: i’m just here to say that i loved your “embarrassing things they do” headcanons 😭😭😭 had me giggling hehehe. would you please do one for seijoh? 🥺 @aiiishiiiteru

notes: my heart went ✨💓🥺 so happy that you guys are enjoying these so far n thank u for requesting! i hope i did them justice 🤧

genre/warnings: just pure crack

oikawa tōru

he did that “open sesame” thing in front of the automatic doors 👐

witnessed by a young mom with a child who were behind him when he was doing the motion

SMACKED the child in the face when he flung his arms outwards OHNO

HE STARTED CRYING the kid not him although he was also near tears

part deux just because he’s so embarrassing:

his nephew was drinking a pineapple juice box

all good right? until he squirted some onto his white pants

“i’m really sorry! wait... uncle, it kinda looks like you peed your pants!” “no it doesn’t, be quiet”

“HEY EVERYONE MY UNCLE JUST PEED HIS PANTS!”

matsukawa issei

sometimes just kinda…drifts off in thought in public

forgot his bag of groceries at the checkout once

usually not paying attention to store employees welcoming him into the store

“hi, how are you doing today?” “yeah”

also part deux bc i just had a thought:

got an unexpected boner in class and he was trying to cover it

the teacher thought he was looking down at his phone or something

wrestled with him until mattsun showed him what he had under his hands

well. it certainly wasn’t a phone, that’s for sure

hanamaki takahiro

late for school so he got dressed in a huge rush

he pulled on a pair of clean uniform pants from the laundry pile but oh, dear

he didn’t realize his older sister’s lace thong was trapped in one of the pantlegs

IT SLID OUT FROM THE LEG HOLE WHEN HE WAS WALKING TO HIS SEAT💀

a split second of relief that he made it on time and then ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE

“wow, i didn’t know you were that type of guy”

“oi, hanamaki, these yours?”

“interesting taste in undergarments”

“boy makin MOVES” “who’s the lucky lady?”

worst of all, the thong had to be confiscated by the homeroom teacher 🤠

iwaizumi hajime

this man is always so considerate to people in need on public transit

gives up his seat whenever he sees an elderly person or a mom

he gestured for a pregnant woman to take his seat

spoiler alert: she wasn’t pregnant ☹️

v v awkward rest of the train ride

yahaba shigeru

this guy tries hard to act smooth but he’s so far from it

keeps messing up his pick up lines

“are you a piece of art? ‘cause i’m at a museum.” “wait. shit, fuck, wrong order”

“did you just fall from heaven? because it looked like it hurt.” “what no, let me try again.” shigeru, you idiot

watari shinji

as a kid, his parents took him to the petting zoo and he really vibed with the baby chicks

wanted to hatch one on his own

took an egg out of the fridge and kept it in his sock drawer to keep it warm

brought it with him under the blankets when he slept

how long does it take for eggs to go bad?

“shinji, what’s that smell?” “it’s a surprise!” 😇😇

he rolled over in his sleep and CRUSHED THE EGG ☹️☹️☹️

THOUGHT HE MURDERED A CHICKEN

kyōtani kentarō

just filled up his lunch tray in the dining hall

he slipped and w h o o s h his feet just came right out from under him

exactly like how it looks in the cartoons

involuntarily YEETED his tray of food, that shit went flyin

THERE WERE SO MANY PEOPLE WHO SAW

he didn’t know what to do. should he act calm? laugh it off? YELL?

luckily, iwaizumi passed by and helped good senpai

kindaichi yūtarō

really nice and enthusiastic towards service workers, but responds to them on reflex

“here’s your order, enjoy your meal!” “thanks! you too”

“this is your room card, i hope you have a pleasant stay.” “likewise!”

“please hold on to your ticket, and have a wonderful ride.” “awesome, same to you!”

??? takes him a second for it to sink in ¿¿¿

kunimi akira

just minding his own business waiting for the bus

probably listening to music and looking at his phone

a little dog comes up to him, lifts its leg, and just STARTS PISSING ALL OVER HIM

must have mistaken him for a tree or something i guess 🙈

had to hold his pants very oddly during the bus ride to prevent the wet spots from sticking to his leg

stank up the whole vehicle; it was a warm day too

but guess what he was on his way home from the store because you asked him to buy some toiletries like lotion n tissues.

oh, also a single cucumber bc you “needed one for a sandwich”

while he was fuming on the bus ride, he finally figured out why the cashier was giving him weird looks. ah

he started sprinting as soon as he got off the bus, he wanted to make you PAY if you know what i mean

a/n: yes, i have experienced some of these DO NOT ASK ME IF THE EGG ONE IS LOOSELY BASED OFF OF MYSELF I WILL CRY and ty to franz for asking me to start a taglist! 💞✨next one should be inarizaki but keep the requests comin’ if there’s a school you want to see!

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

taglist: @sparkykatsuki

[theyearsiturnedintoaghost]

“But I Wanna Know One Thing When Did I Become a Ghost?”

Sometimes I try to pinpoint the exact day I became a ghost. I go over days and nights and try to decipher if it happened pre or post certain parts of my life. Was it before I finished college? Maybe earlier, maybe the day my parents finally split? Maybe it was the day I realized a boy I loved in my twenties was never going to love me back, and I just needed to focus on myself while life kept unfolding? Was it somewhere in the move across the country to finish college, and try to do something for myself that might better me, that my actual self flew out the window somewhere in Texas, or some other dusty road, and the entire years following were just my ghost years? Or maybe it wasn’t until after I let myself fall so far away from what I remembered myself to be, or what I stood for, or dreams I had, that I shrunk into myself so small and became a walking shell of who I used to be. Maybe it was the day I stood next to someone else at a bar, a different one than the bar I’d left that earlier unrequited love behind at, and thought for the first time in so long ‘is this person perfect?’ while I was introduced to him, and instead of being cool or sweet, or like someone a person would want to talk to - I blabbered on about some snowboarders who had a TV show that this person had never heard of, and I realized in the walking away from that person as a blush rose to my cheeks and my hands shook just enough to let me know that deep down I wanted to cry from my anxiety, that I was just too fucking weird for people, and not just that person, but maybe all people. These same type of ‘outer body’ or anxiety induced conversations and moments just kept happening over and over so I started focus in and realize I was the common denominator and that I must be the cause to my inability to relate to people or not be so fucking weird that I could practically feel their eyes rolling at me while I spoke to them. Clearly, I didn’t become a ghost because of any of these specific moments, but probably due to all of these moments all swirled together with so many others, and also due to my brain makeup and what I imagine is some missed diagnosis from childhood that today would for sure have me on the spectrum. Which, for the record, I’m completely okay with being on. Actually sometimes I think it would give me some kind of ease that maybe I’m not as ‘crazy’ or ‘out there’ as I’ve compared myself to be when I look at other peoples lives of my age. There’s no shame in thinking differently and having to work out how you do think so other people who don’t think the same can sort of understand. So please don’t take that as a cruel joke, or something to be angry at. It’s just me recognizing that people can be different, and sometimes they don’t know the reason for it because they were never seen properly. 

So, I’m not exactly sure of the day I became a ghost - fuck, maybe it wasn’t one of those moments or days specifically, but a lot of days, weeks, or months; full of falling further from who I’d been at seventeen, even twenty-one, or twenty-three, or who I even thought I would be by thirty, that made me disappear from myself one day and just become this person who just existed in the world day to day, but wasn’t actually living. I ate sometimes when I wasn’t trying to disappear fully so clothes would fit me better or boys might think I was beautiful, I laughed when I was supposed to, went on dates like I was trying, got up and went to work like I was supposed to, read a book here and there, binged watched TV shows to have conversations and social interactions with people like normal people do, and tried to convince myself that this was what living was, I guess. Between all of these day to day things and smoking myself to sleep, crushing up pills in private places and snorting them through straws, or dabbling - to put it lightly and politically correct - into cocaine, just to pass the time and make myself feel anything most of the time, I guess vanishing became easy.

Becoming a ghost was easier.

It’s just not exactly clear to me to be able to figure out the exact date and time I fully realized I’d become a ghost. It’s not as easy as like providing an alibi for myself for one specific night, and not because my brain was so hazy and filled with anger, sadness, and drug fueled smoke and pills for most, but not all - and not all at the same time - of the years between twenty to nearly thirty, that I cannot fully recall the moment I fully realized I wasn’t who I remembered myself wanting to be, but really because I think it happened slowly at first, somewhere in between being lonely, living in a place that I kind of had a hard time fitting into, not in terms of the weather or nature, but in making a friend or two or feeling like I wasn’t so... annoying-to-people-based-on-reality-shows New Jersey in a non-New Jersey place, and even if maybe it didn’t fully seem that way to other people, trying to finish school and not feel so old being basically a junior at like twenty-three when every other person I knew had already graduated and was moving to the next levels of their lives - whatever those were - while I was working as many hours as I could to just pay the rent, trying to make a friend in any place - which is really hard for me if I’m being honest. To cut it down to brass tax, I think I’m socially awkward and full of so much anxiety that I either shy away and appear unapproachable, or I let people in too quickly and my heart gets broken by them when I realize I probably care too much for them than they do for me. 

I think I’m just afraid of disappointing people.  So instead I just disappoint myself. 

I let people leave me because it’s easier. Why make them stay when they don’t want to? Why hope they’ll call first when they won’t? Why hope they’ll love me back the way I would have loved them?

It’s easier to let them go on and be happy and just... disappear. 

It’s why I think I let myself slowly start to slip away from who I had been my whole life. Some girl who was hoping for the ‘happy ending’ the ‘good things to come,’ as embarrassing as those things can sound for a person to imagine, the successful life that I sadly felt I would achieve with the promises of getting an education and working hard, but instead was just always left outside of the winners circle.  Not that anyone wins in any of this, but you know what I mean. The truth is, in life - from what I’ve come to understand - there are just people who lose less often than other people. I just got tired of losing, and feeling like I was losing all the time.  I got tired of making it to my twenties and feeling like I was never going to be the girl who would ever become anything or the one that anyone ever actually wanted back.  Sure, I had ‘romantic entanglements,’ if you could call them that, crushes, and drunken kisses, but nothing that it felt like everyone else was so easily able to get.  Boyfriends, flowers on a date night, fucking date nights in general, a birthday party thrown for them; not one they had to put together themselves and hope at least five people would come. The things one may think matters, but don’t - not in the grand scheme of anything that actually does really matter to the world - but these things still add up as years go by, and as I kept getting older and older and it felt like everyone I knew had this laundry list of relationships and ex’s and I was just kind of aware of how... no one has ever asked me out properly on a date or reached over to hold my hand in a crowded room. Or knew the thing I wanted to laugh about in public without me even have to say it.  Those stupid wishful, movie, dream life, fantasy land bullshit things that everyone tells you aren’t real outside of movies, but I just didn’t fully believe because I’d seen my own friends make eye contact with someone they loved across a room and I’d seen that feeling occur in real time. Maybe it wasn’t in a movie script ending kind of way, but it still happened. Small and simple, but it still did happen, and it was probably more beautiful than Hollywood could even fathom or conjure up.

And once I started to kind of realize that this kept occurring to people around me all of the time I just started to think that I was invisible. And soon after I came to realize I was. 

And it isn’t just the relationships that make you feel invisible, it’s the other things everyone around me seemed to be doing or achieving that makes me feel sort of ‘less than.’ People getting - what seems like to a twenty-something - a big fancy office job out of college, or buying a house, travelling with a group of friends multiple times a year.  Fuck, even just having a group of friends, that was actually amazing to me after like twenty-one. I could honestly walk through a store, or down a street and I’m not sure one person may have even noticed if I was there - or if I wasn’t. Even if I did daily routine items like where I bought my coffee or the days I shopped at a grocery store, or when I went for walks or not, I’m not sure if people would notice when I didn’t, or if I ever even did. Even when I was working in the office I got fired from, and commuting day to day, I’m not sure any one on that bus would be able to pick me out a line up even if I took the same 6:50 everyday.  Hell, I’m not sure people who I worked with and spoke to would even notice if I wasn’t there. And when I would wash my hands in the bathroom and the automated sensor wouldn’t even recognize me, I really started to wonder if I wasn’t actually a ghost after all. 

And day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out, all of it just started to add up. All the good things that were happening for everyone else - which was something I truly was happy for, despite how fake that sounds typing, like I’m trying to make myself sound like a decent human in hopes someone won’t just think I’m being whiny or jealous, I really was happy for them because I think a person - even some of the worst ones - does really want the people they know and care about to be happy; even if that happiness is seemingly impossible to hold for themselves. Regardless, deep in my heart I know that I was happy for them getting all of their desires, I was just sad I wasn’t getting my own ‘good things,’ or desires. And I felt like I had nothing to talk with people about. Like when I came to their table I was just... the person they knew who wasn’t progressing on any kind of timeline; even my own.

I started to feel ashamed about it. Embarrassed and stuttery about any kind of topic any one might speak to me about. So I sort of just stopped going to people’s tables. I didn’t want to see them look at me out of the corner of their eyes with pity as the thirty-something year old who had no direction, no love life, no career type job, and had not created or accomplished anything; at all.

And in the meantime, in trying not to fail, or having something to speak about that I felt I’d done a good job on or created, It felt like any kind of outlet that I tried to create to promote my own dreams or wishes just kept never hitting the mark. Trying to make a clothing line? Fail. Like even having one of these Tumblr’s years ago for my writing, anything I actually did write was pointless; or at least felt that way. Any story I’d completed, I wished were different or more original. I just kept feeling like other people had done the ‘path’ correct and they were all getting their foot in the door at the right times, and I was just... behind. My lack of being able to commit to a major at school, or even get an office job or internship doing something basic and day to day just didn’t appeal to me.  Not in a way that made me excited for the next thirty years of my life, especially because that’s what I always thought being an adult was. Finding a place to work that allowed you to build a career, and just getting through that until you were able to retire.

I guess I didn’t really think much about the joy in any of it, or what adulthood really held for me that didn’t seem so mundane and boring. Like just something you had to do and there was nothing super exciting about it. By the time I made it to like twenty I kind of realized dreams I’d had since I was younger were already out of question.  I was clearly never going to be that Olympic Gymnastic’s Champion I thought I would at eight - which even as I type this I want to laugh at how farfetched that dream even feels to remember - and the odds of me becoming Georgia O’Keefe, who I dressed up as for a 4th grade biography day - felt impossible, especially since my desire to possibly go to art school after college were kind of laughed off by my family because what are the odds people make any money out of art school? Plus, she mastered flowers, it’s hard to compete with the beauty of that.  And I was clearly never going to be some teen idol movie star or popstar princess. Which was also very far off dreams that I guess I recall having around 14. But I was like twenty-something now, and I’d heard myself sing, it is not good, even just speaking I have a voice most people wish they could unhear, and the most acting I’ve ever done is pretending I was just fine for most of my entire life. Even though I could feel the sadness deep in my chest and gut that felt so heavy and dark I was afraid of even admitting it was there in fear of what other people might think about me, hell, what I might think of myself.  

That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about trying to pinpoint when I became a ghost, I think I always was in some way, I was just never honest with myself about feeling that way. Not until I got much older and everything got out of control, that is.  It’s why I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own space and house. Where I have confidence in myself and my own little secret hiding spots for where I keep the sadness or fears of inadequacy. It’s easier to be me behind closed doors and in the stillness of my bedroom or solitude of my basement. I can be me in places where everyone isn’t watching, or it doesn’t feel like they are. Where I can’t hear them laugh about me as they pass around a group chat or some other joke I’m not privy to. Where they aren’t looking at my messy bun and unfashionable clothing and the smattering of pimples on my chin, or sad eyes and splatting of goofy childish freckles. I don’t feel so odd when I’m alone. It’s when I’m actually around people - especially people who I don’t know, or who have job titles much more important sounding than my name, or people who have travelled all over, or created something beautiful that they are proud of - that I notice how inadequate I feel in their shadows. That any small useless fact that I might know, or place I’ve travelled, and job I’ve held, feels unimportant or less.

I am also aware that a lot of these feelings are just that, feelings, and not actual facts. That these people are probably not actually feeling these things about me, but that’s the way my anxiety and depression feels. It keeps me in the basement of my own heart and mind because it feels safer. Like assuming all of these people already think those things about me will hurt less when I find out they actually do.

And that’s the part that also hurts - a lot - is when you do find out that those people feel and think those things about you. Sometimes you only find out because someone tells you, and sometimes you have to hear them making fun of you behind your back to realize it.  But it hurts all the same. 

And it hurt the most when I was actually actively trying to reorganize my life and try to pull myself up out of my own depression and self induced spiral, and was honestly trying; going to therapy weekly, removing myself from bad places, narrowing down my circle of people, and mostly cocooning myself from the rest of the world outside of throwing myself into a desk job and reading books on my commute to and from said job. I stopped using social media, stopped talking to a lot of people, stopped doing a lot of anything. 

And still I was a joke to people.  Turns out, the people I worked with were just... making fun of me without me knowing. I was trying my best to find a footing and ‘build a career at a company’ or whatever the fuck that really means, and they were just laughing at how uncool I was, or terribly dressed, or the annoying voice I posses. I mean, I understand why they didn’t like me - most of the time prior I barely liked me - but it just sucked to know that even when you were trying to be an okay human, one that wasn’t fucked up all of the time and actively working on yourself two mornings a week where I cried so often about how much everyone hated me and how much of a fuck up I was, hurt so much worse than all the times when I was a teenager and felt like I didn’t fit in. When the mean girl in our neighborhood would invite all the other kids out to play manhunt, but wouldn’t include me. Or the girls in middle school wouldn’t include me because I wasn’t an A-Team soccer player or whatever other bullshit made me weird to them.

Because now I was an adult, who knew she was a ghost for so long, and when I was finally started allowing myself to be seen in any formation - people laughed. It made me wish I’d stayed hidden in my night shift jobs, basement hideouts, and in the comfort of the naps I took that were basically second nights of sleep, just with daylight shining on outside. It felt worse to realize not staying a ghost allowed people to see me, and even then they didn’t like me. 

So I became a ghost, again. I cut off more people, stopped responding to others, asked some of them to stop reaching out to me, and just existed alone. I cried - a lot. In fields with my dog, who then was still a live, in parked cars outside of a job I hated, in the bathroom of that same job when I was constantly messing up and being allowed to have no responsibility, privacy, or final word on anything I did, I also cried in my bed, silently, almost every night as I stared at the ceiling fan spinning above my head and tried to transport myself to another place and time where it hurt less, I felt more secure, and maybe someone, or something, loved me back.  But most of the time when I cried it was for the life I thought I was going to have, the one I realized I was mourning even though I never lived it, and crying for the other part of the person I let myself become which was a person that people at these companies, and ‘friends’ I knew in some parts of my life was a good reason for them to laugh at.  

I cried a lot because I was never able to be someone, but what I think I was really crying for - and still do sometimes - is that I forget when I stopped wanting to be me.

Even the me that people in offices don’t like, or girls in middle school don’t understand. Sometimes I cried because I wished I could like that person more because at least than I’d feel like me. It’s hard to come to terms with that, hard to realize that I’m okay with not being liked by people, but it gets lonely realizing that having people in your life means all they want is for you to change. For you to fit the mold that they are okay with you being or who they would be comfortable bringing around their other friends. Someone who doesn’t laugh at the most inappropriate stuff, or snores in their sleep, or cries at commercials, whose car isn’t a mess, doesn’t hate folding laundry, knows when to call it a night at a bar one drink earlier than I do, or has a clear direction in their life and a slew of opportunities waiting for them at every corner with so many points of contact to makes those opportunities reality. Things for them to talk about at dinner parties or weddings as someone's date. 

Things that people who aren’t ghosts know how to do naturally and effortlessly. 

So I guess the real answer is, no, I don’t know when I actually became a ghost, if it was my whole life, or one morning when I woke up and just thought, ‘none of this is fun anymore,’ none of the getting high, or buzzed, or pretending I’m okay, or doing jobs that don’t make me happy, or never feeling the love of another human in the full ways that I wished I could, but instead tried to ignore and pretend I didn’t desire or want in my life. I’m not really sure when it all happened, I just know that I remember it all happening; slowly in random bouts of progression and over so many minutes of a life I kind of feel I’ve wasted to some extent, and hell, I’m unsure if I’ve ever really stopped fully wanting to be one. Sometimes it just feels easier to move through places and moments alone because it hurts less, somehow. Like it’s easier for everyone else if I just never get too attached to anything in fear that I’ll hurt them, or worse, they’ll break me, again. And I’m really tired of being broken by things that I may have thought were for me, but ended up not being. 

And then there are the random moments where I peak out into the world around me, fully noticed by someone - in a normal everyday running of an errand kind of way - and walk away from a conversation or an event and feel a slight bit of content in my heart that I think maybe it really doesn’t hurt worse than never actually feeling anything fully. It’s an odd catch 22. Wanting to be seen, and being fearful of being seen in fear, on both ends, that you’ll end up broken somehow. 

I’m unsure what any of it fully means, I guess for anyone. Do other people feel that way? Is it just a whole group of us who exist out there and feel - lost? Or scared? Or afraid to be who they actually are in fear that the life they lead now will no longer suit them or make them actually happy? And I know that this must be something people struggle with in terms of sexual orientation, but in a way, even as someone who does not struggle with that and knows I am into a certain sex, I still understand it in the sense that faking who I am feels wrong.  It feels like selling out. Like I’m only living to appease other people, and I wish more times that other people were willing to live to accept other people for who they were; faults and all. Even in this cancel culture world, not everyone is good, and not everyone is bad; people can be so many things, it’s the idealization to put a label on everything that makes things harder I think. We aren’t ingredients in a candy bar for consumption, we’re people - ghosts and all - but we are all allowed to be phases of ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, you have to become what you’re not all of the time to maybe even fully realize who you are, or want to be, most of the time. 

Unsure if any of that makes sense, but I think I’ll have to break it down even further. Maybe next time. In another post, where I don’t ramble on forever and come to no conclusion. This thesis would fail if I had to hand it in for a grade. 

Unless of course it was a scientific experiment hypothesis; and maybe that’s all life really is - one giant cosmic experiment where the rules will forever change and the points don’t really matter. Some giant game of Whose Line is it Anyway?

From one ghost behind a computer to another reading, goodnight.

xoxo

[jawritter]

Elf

Summary: Maybe being stuck at home for Christmas with Dean during a snow storm, isn’t so bad after all. 

Warnings: Light Smut, unprotected smut, language, fluff. That’s about it really. 

Word Count: 2814

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompt: Elt

A/N: This fic was written for @janicho88 100 follower Christmas Celebration! Congratulation on the new milestone hun! This fic was also beta’d by the lovely @miss-neard95!! Thanks so much love!! As always please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this one! We need a little Christmas in September! I mean hey? Why not? LOL 

 Want more? Check out my Masterlist, or become a patreon for exclusive fics!

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You shivered as a cold draft of air blew into the Bunker behind you, Dean closing the door as quickly as he could with his hands full of groceries. 

It had been snowing for three solid days now, and there were no signs of letting up any time soon. Dean was convinced that this was how the world was going to end - you were all going to freeze to death. He hated the cold, hated the snow, and more than that, he hated the holidays that usually came with this kind of weather. 

You and Dean made your way towards the kitchen with this week’s supplies, as well as the next in your hands. Normally you would only buy enough for a couple of days, but since the weather conditions only seemed to worsen, you figured it might be best to stay hunkered down for a little while. 

You dumped the bags down on the counter, Dean mimicking your actions,  before the both of you shrugged out of your coats, throwing them down over the table in the corner with a huff as you looked at the sprawling display of things in front of you that needed to be put away.

“Okay,” Dean said, warming his hands by blowing on them and rubbing them together as his piercing green eyes scanned the items on the countertop. “You put away the freezer stuff, and I’ll clear up everything else except your lady products.”

A wicked smirk tugged on your lips as you grabbed the box of Tampons out of the bag, waving them around in front of his face in a  manner that you knew was childish, but Dean seemed to bring out the brat in you. 

“You mean these lady products, Dean?” You asked, giving him a cheeky smile that could make the Cheshire Cat jealous. 

Dean's wrinkled nose with his lips in a grimace was the cutest look of disgust you had ever seen, not that his perfect face wasn't a factor, swatting your hand away like you were holding something revolting.

“Yes, that. Now come on, I want to get out of these jeans, and change into something warmer.” He turned his back to you in mock annoyance as you placed the tampons back on the counter with a chuckle, and started putting the frozen foods away.

It was quiet in the Bunker for the most part. Sam was snowed in at Jody’s when he’d gone up there last week to work on a case with the girls, and that just left Dean and you alone in the Bunker for the foreseeable future-or at least until the snow melted enough for Sam to make it home. 

Cas and Jack were on some sort of 'Angel business' and neither of you, dared asking exactly what that was. Some things you were just better off not knowing until there was no way to ignore them.

Christmas was two days away, and while Dean never really made a big deal about the holidays, you always enjoyed celebrating them. It was the only thing you ever looked forward to as a kid growing up in the hunting life, something your mother tried to hold on which became a normal for you. It was the only reminiscent of your childhood, and something that you clinged to for comfort.

Once you were done, you saw that Dean was still working, so you grabbed the sanitary products and made your way to your room to change into your fuzzy pajama pants, and one of Dean’s old flannel you had stolen from him when you had first moved into the Bunker.

You didn’t need said lady products right now, but you didn’t want to be trapped here without them either. It sucked to be a female because you had to make sure you were prepared for these types of situations, hunter or otherwise. You never knew when you were going to need them, but it was usually at the most inconvenient moments of your life.

You smiled as you made your way from the bathroom after stashing the box away to your bedroom to change, thinking about Dean’s adorably childish reaction to you messing with him in the kitchen just now. 

You knew he was just playing with you. Dean wasn’t bothered by something as small as a box of tampons, but he did love to get a rise out of you and did seem to enjoy the attention of any form he could get. 

So he liked to be playfully grumpy with you, knowing you thought it was more than a little cute.

You were just finishing up throwing your hair into a messy bun when you heard a soft knock on the door and turned around to see a very confused Dean, holding a DVD case in his hand. 

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the new Elf DVD that you had just purchased while on the supply run to watch later tonight after Dean went to bed. 

“Whatever it is, it's mine!” You snatched the DVD from his hand. 

A smirk settled deeply on his handsome features as he strutted his way through the door towards you. Your eyes took him in, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his  tightly fitted T-Shirt did very little to hide his well toned chest and shoulders. 

“Elf? Really Y/N/N, I took you to be more of a 50 Shades type of girl,” Dean said, flopping down on his stomach across your bed, his elbows bent with his smug face resting in his hands. He’d obviously found a way to get back at you for the little teasing back in the kitchen, and you just knew that he wasn't going to let you brush him off that easy.

There had always been an undeniable sexual tension between you two, but neither of you ever acknowledged it. No, you weren’t dating, you weren’t friends with benefits, you were literally just friends. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying the view of the curve of his ass as he laid strewn across your bed.

Maybe you were more of a 50 Shades girl, but he didn’t need to know that. You liked the friendship between the two of you. He was the greatest thing that ever happened to you. He was your best friend, your rock, the person you went to when you needed someone to lean on. You couldn’t fuck that up just because you had feelings for him, there was no way that was ever gonna happen. 

“Well Dean, we can’t be all kinky all the time, sometimes you need something a little vanilla,” you answered his question with a suggestive wink in order to keep up the banter that he’d started, but when you turned to look at him, your hair fell out.

Dean sat up cross legged in the middle of your bed when you huffed looking in the mirror, watching you as you started fixing your hair again with an unreadable look on his face. 

“Well, let’s watch it,” he said with a shrug. 

You turned on the spot and stared at Dean like he’d popped out a second head. 

“What?”

“Let’s watch it.” 

“You wanna watch Elf? You feeling okay, Dean?” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed at that, sticking his tongue out at you before jumping off of the bed and grabbing the DVD from your hands.

“ Dean Cave. Fifteen minutes.” He yelled over his shoulder, and you watched his retreating back as he made his way down the hall to start  the movie for the two of you.

Shaking your head you laughed as you made your way to the kitchen to grab a few beers before you walked back to the Dean Cave.

Dean was always full of surprises. Just when you thought you had him figured out, he did something you never would expect. Like agreeing to watch a Christmas movie with you, when you knew he hated Christmas. 

It wasn’t like it was a great mystery why that was. His father didn't exactly qualify for the parent of the year nomination, and Bobby, well he tried, but he wasn’t that into it either. Good family memories just weren’t something Dean had. 

When you stepped in the Dean Cave, Dean had pulled out one of the oversized blankets you kept in the laundry room for nights like this when you would all pile up in here and watch TV, and was waiting for you with the remote in his hand. 

“I brought beer,” you said, holding the two clinking bottles high above your head as you approached the couch. Dean grinned at you before flipping the covers open for you., offering you to sit down beside him.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Dean said with an impish smirk, his lips grabbing your attention that you wanted to feel on your own. 

You settled comfortably next to him as Dean hit play, throwing his arm around you and tucking you into his side before giving you a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead. It wasn't anything unusual for Dean, but it made your heart flutter in your chest all the same. 

You curled into his chest, laying your head against his shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around you with your legs on his lap. He felt warm and safe, and you honestly could have given everything you had to stay just like this forever. 

As the credits rolled on the movie, Dean reached over and flipped the TV off, leaving both of you in the dark room with the only light from the hallway peeking in through the cracked door. 

“I have to admit, for a Christmas movie, it wasn’t that bad.” Dean said, wrapping the blankets tighter around the two of you instead of getting up like you had expected him to. 

Dean’s large hand brushed a stray hair away from your face as he held you against him, his face so close to yours, you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin. 

“See, maybe you should do what I suggest more often,” you fired back, trying to keep the conversation light and ignore his hand that was under the covers slowly creeping its way up your thigh as he laughed. 

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Tomorrow we’re watching Death Race, like it or not.”

Even in the darkness of the room Dean’s eyes seemed to sparkle just a little, and the army of butterflies in your stomach started to take flight against you.

You could have sworn he was moving closer to you although it seemed impossible as he held you closer to his large frame. 

“Dean, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you whispered as his lips came ever so close to your own that they were almost brushing.

He just chuckled in response, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t see the problem, I mean, people already think we’re a couple now.”

Before you could even register what he was saying, Dean’s lips captured yours in a sweet, slow kiss that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to leave you breathless as he pulled away from you. 

“I know I joke around a lot, but I can be as soft as you need me to be, if you’d give me the chance to show you.”

You could literally feel your heart pounding in your ears as his eyes scanned yours, fear of rejection lingering not far below the surface. 

You don’t know what made you react, you just did. In a spurt of bravery you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing into his as his arms wrap even tighter, pulling your body flush against his. 

You could feel his excitement growing by the prominent bulge that was forming in his sweatpants as his teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it just hard enough to pull a moan from your lips. 

“Let me show you baby, let me show you what you do to me,” Dean murmured, his hands tracing the skin of your back. 

You had wanted this to happen for so long, that it almost felt like a dream. But one thing was for sure, you weren’t going to push him away anymore. Dean was the kind of person that took things to heart, and if you rejected him, even if it was out of your own fear, you knew you would lose him forever. 

“Then show me, Dean.” You mutter against his lips. 

Not even for one second did Dean break eye contact with you as he pulled your shirt over your head before finding your lips again with his own, dominating your mouth, his hands explored the now exposed skin. You didn’t miss the low growl that came from him when he discovered you’d decided to forgo wearing a bra. His hands slid over your exposed breath before running his thumb over each nipple. His tongue licked into your mouth in a way that made you shiver in his hold. The man was good, and he hadn't even gotten started yet.

His hands wandered to the waistband of your pants and pulled them down in one smooth go, leaving you fully exposed before him.

His eyes travelled shamelessly over your body, his white teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

“You're fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” Dean said, his voice deep and dripping with lust. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Winchester,” you purred. 

It took him mere seconds to strip out of his clothes. You noticed that he’d also chosen to go without  his underwear and you couldn't help the smirk forming on your lips. 

He was gorgeous. His well-toned body from a life of hunting and killing monsters hovered over your small frame on the couch you were laying on. His thick length was heavy and dripping against your already wet folds as his lips found your throat, running his teeth lightly over your collar bone before sucking his mark there. 

“I’ve wanted you like this for so fucking long, baby girl,” Dean said between kisses as he rutted on your folds. His blunt tip created just enough friction on your sensitive clit to drive you crazy and want more. 

“Then have me Winchester, what are you waiting for?” You asked him teasingly. 

Dean repositioned his hips, and with one smooth thrust he was fully seated inside of you without warning, his face hidden in the crook of your neck as he panted above you, holding himself still and giving you time to adjust. 

You had never been so full, so stretched as you were right now. It took you a moment before you were able to roll your hips against his, giving him the push he needed to start moving. At first he set a slow, steady pace. Each stroke of his cock against your already clenching walls driving you higher and higher until his tip hit that special spot deep inside of you at which you cried out. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you moaned, before his lips found yours in a deep kiss that was all tongue and teeth. 

You could already feel that familiar coil begin to wind tight in your abdomen with each thrust of his hips. 

Dean could tell you were getting close, and he picked up  a faster, deeper pace, hitting your g-spot directly everytime. 

“Come on baby, I can feel you're close. Let go,” he said breathlessly, his rhythm beginning to falter. 

It was like that was the command your body had been waiting for, and you came with a silent scream as your walls clamped down around him, and his hips locked in place as he spilled his seed deep inside of you, your walls milking every drop his body could give you. 

When you both came back down from your high Dean laid down next to you in the small space, pulling the covers over the two of you and snuggling into you.

You both stayed there in silence for a minute before you finally had the courage to speak. 

“Where does this leave us, Dean?” You asked him as his lips brushed over the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“It means your mine now, baby girl. Merry Christmas,” He said, his voice cocky and he was back to being the Dean you loved so much  

Turning around you swatted him playfully on his arm before settling back into his hold, nuzzling into his chest before letting out a content sigh of your own. 

“Best Christmas present ever,” you tell him before drifting off to sleep in the arms of the man you would always love with your whole heart, but now, he was yours and you, his.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @waywardsistershy​ @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​

[cherry-ber]

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy?”

Pairing: idol! Mark Lee x female reader

Plot: Lonesome creeps into everyone's mind, even those who seem to have it all.

Genre: fluff mostly, angst.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, extremely painful for me to write this since I feel lonely idk if that triggers you too.

A.N: inspired by the first draft of too drunk to fuck and my bff's dependence of wine to exist 😳 this took me 10 hours to write but it might still be pretty shit. And yeah Clueless some how

After a long, long week of continuous recordings, dance practices, re-recordings and photo sessions, all he wanted to do, was sleep for twenty hours straight. He knew that he was a very lucky man, he was really living the dream. Not everyone was able to do what they loved, with people they genuinely liked, and still get payed for it, but he was. He had always been grateful, he knew the real value of things in real life, and sometimes he felt like he didn't even deserve it.

An insane amount of people knew his name, knew him, and constantly made sure that he knew how appreciated he was, but he couldn’t understand it at all. Sure, he proved himself over and over again how great he could be, and he was proud too, but why did people really loved him? Sometimes it's easy to lose yourself, but lately he was struggling even more, he felt lost and unworthy, he felt guilty, even, because he shouldn't feel this way.

Mark was home alone, after his friends went out to have dinner and drinks. He excused himself out of the reunion saying that he would call his parents and then heading straight to the bed. He wasn't lying at all, he did have a small call with his family, and then went to his room, expecting that he'd fall asleep soon and forget about what he was feeling, he was done with that for today.

He played a movie in his computer, knowing that whatever it was, he wasn't paying attention anyway. He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was missing something, rather, someone. He felt ridiculous, knowing how much people loved him, how many friends he had, but he couldn’t help it, he would be lying if he didn't say he could use a little company. Mark was busy most of the time, which, although tiring, was an escape from his loneliness, it was moments like this where he'd have enough time to sink in this small puddle of angsty feelings, that just grew until it was as big as an ocean. He couldn't explain why he felt so bad, he had enough friends to count on, and even when he considered he was only in need of a physical affect, it turned out to not be the answer, even when he masturbated, when he was finished, those feelings were still there. As the movie went on without him noticing, he turned his head to the side, and imagined someone next to him, wearing his clothes and stealing his blanket. He giggles, imagining cuddling someone to sleep, their heat making him feel home. He finally closes his tired eyes with a smile, hoping his dreams will be sweet and last long.

He wakes up in a bad mood, and doesn't really want to talk to anyone, his older friends notice, and decide to let him be, they know that if something is really wrong, he'll come to them eventually. After a quick shower, he decided he needed some privacy, some time alone, despite being scared of being stuck with himself, and went out on his own, ignoring the texts on the group chat, where everyone wondered where he was going. He had breakfast in a small Cafe, went to a movie matinee, an art gallery, a theater play, and then to a mall to buy himself expensive clothes. He had an okay day, and he grew a little bit of joy, finding himself alone and still almost enjoying his time, but mostly, ignoring his mind when he saw a couple, and wished he could have that too. He enters a restaurant, intending to order something take out for his friends, as an apology for being moody and worrying them. He waits stand up next to the door, with a cup of coffee they offered him, until he suddenly turns around after hearing his order being ready, and ceashes with someone as he does. He spilled his drink over his and their clothes. He starts apologizing, but all he gets as a response is a soft, sweet giggle. He looks to the stranger's face, and is met with a fond smile.

“It's okay, go get your food, I can fix myself”

He's caught off guard, and all he can do is shake his head yes and do as he is told, coming back to them, apologizing again.

“I'm such an idiot, I'm so sorry” he's totally embarrassed, and he feels a blush running through his face.

“It's alright, it wasn't your fault”

The stranger walks inside to take a table, and he rushes out, walking back home. That giggle makes its way to his mind a couple times as he arrives.

After eating, he goes to bed, feeling somehow full with himself, but he doesn't know if it was after forcing himself to like him, or if he was so desperate for someone that a small interaction like that would get him sleepless thinking this person would be his person.

On that same week, he founds himself running into that same stranger everywhere. When he goes get coffee with his friends, when they go to buy groceries, when he heads to the studio, and he wonders if he should be worrying, but decides not to.

Surprisingly, he founds her again, when he is entering a new coffee shop, and she walks her way out. He opens the door for her, and is met with her fond smile again, that grows larger as she recalls his face. She mumbles a sweet 'thank you' and keeps walking. Some courage grows inside Mark, and blurts out whatever his brain was fast enough to say.

“Thanks for not spilling that coffee back” the young lady finds the sentence, although awkward, funny, and turns back to him to reply.

“Maybe I should pay for your coffee, though, you were enjoying it until I crashed into you” Her melodic voice is enough to put Mark in a trance, and loses control of what he's doing, disconnecting from his awkward self.

“Actually it was my fault” he giggles remembering how sweet she was, even after Mark probably just ruined her day “Did you get a horrible stain?”

She walks closer to him, small steps that make his heart beat faster.

“It wasn't horrible, I wouldn't say that, it was just, slightly bad”

“I don't want to be a weirdo, are you busy right now? I could use some chatting, and I really owe your laundry money”

She was never an outgoing person, but she was flattered by his proposal. She was meeting someone, but she figured it wouldn't be important enough to not cancel.

“I would love that, but you owe me nothing” she giggles and walks beside him into an empty table.

“I'm Mark, by the way”

“I know that” she laughs it off, attempting for things not to be awkward “My name is Y/N”

It was only after several months, that Mark found himself, again, over thinking about how lonely he was, and how desperate he was for it to end. Whenever he had the chance, he'd spend time with his new friend, and for some weeks, thats was enough, until he realized that, all she wanted from him, was a friendship. His friends noticed, too, how after a while, that wasn't enough for him, but he was terrified he'd lose her, but they'd often try to help him out in whatever way other men would think was best, teasing her when she was at the dorms, insinuating how cute of a couple they'd be, and shamelessly asking if by any chance, she'd have feelings for him, never really giving away Mark's crush on her, not explicitly at least.

One afternoon, when they were all watching a movie together, when suddenly, Johnny and Taeyong convinced everyone to go out and have dinner, even after Mark suggested they just called the restaurant, because he was too tired to go out.

“Oh” Taeyong said, grabbing his keys and putting on a hat “then you can stay here with Y/N and order something and we can take our time”

The girl was a little disappointed, she loved spending time with the other guys two, but she agreed, knowing that Mark wouldn't want be convinced to leave the couch.

She sees then leave, and turns around to look at her friend, somehow aware of what his friends were trying to do; leave them alone, after last night they discussed Mark should just accept the reject, and confess. The boy asked, pleaded and begged them not to leave them alone, after he opened up about his feelings, but of course, his friends thought they'd know better.

“Can you order pizza while I take a shower?” his attention called back to where he was, as the sweet woman walked into the living room, with a bottle of wine and two cups. Mark chocked in his spit, when the thought of her showering, and how much he'd love to enter the scene, crossed his mind.

“Yeah, sure” he watched her walking away “Do you want some clothes?”

“Well, if I could steal one of your hodies tonight, I wouldn't mind”

He does as he's asked, calling a pizzeria and taking off his hoodie, hoping that she'd appreciate the smell of his cologne, that he wears only when she's coming around.

When she comes out, wearing her jeans and tank top, he throws the sweater at her, she puts it on and sits in the couch next to him, ready to start eating, reaching out for the bottle to serve them a cup after the first bite.

“I don't want to drink that” he'd never been a fan of alcohol, he knew he could use a boost, but he was still afraid of it.

“Huh? Why is that?”

“I don't drink wine” She recalled how he'd often drink with Johnny and her, whenever Johnny wanted to open a bottle, which happened quite often, but decided not to insist, although she did pour a cup for herself.

Mark, and any other men, really, always wondered what could she be thinking about, she was wild, energetic, but calmed and peaceful, she was always kind, but wouldn't hesitate to start a fight if to defend herself or someone else, she was never scared, but she was sensitive and fragile. He couldn't help the sigh that left his body, remembering why he had feelings for her in the first place. He knew how much she'd hate to be in a relationship, they had already discussed it, after some girl confessed to Mark, and she mentioned how relationships to her were useless, since she got all the love she wanted from her friends, and that way, she made sure that all the love she gave was reciprocal. When he told his manager about his feelings, expecting him to give him helpful advice, he just told him to forget about her. “women like her are too complicated, it's not worth it”. He wondered then, how many other guys would think the same, and refused to be one of those.

They were both full, and cuddling in the couch, she was sipping her second cup, when Mark suddenly poured a cup for himself too, and drank it in one large sip. He felt a rush through his body, his face flustered, and a numb sensation in his limbs. He was trying to keep himself still, but the sudden alcohol in his body made him bubbly and the woman next to him realized. The cheesy romcom that was playing on the back made him giggle in every other scene, and with every minute that went by, he felt looser and looser. He served another cup and drank it just as fast as the first one. Soon, he found himself leaning towards the body that sat next to him. Y/N pat her thigh, inviting Mark to rest his head there, which he did, while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You notice how wine makes people wanna feel, like sexy” he lets out in a serious tone.

Giggly, his friend shakes her head no, and places her cup in the table in front of them. “Do you feel like sexy?”

He sits himself back, eyes wide open, same serious expression in his face.

“I guess so?” he laughs at how dumb he must sound “I feel... Jiggly”

Her sweet, loud laugh fills the room, and Mark is proud of himself for making her so happy.

“Love, you should go to sleep already” he feels his face hotter and hotter, and can only imagine how red he must be “you were already tired, I'll clean up and meet you in your room-”

Mark bursts out of his bubble and speaks

“Don't do that” he says softly, as if he was genuinely hurt by her words “Please, don't do that”

Worried, Y/N walks closer to him, “Do what?”

He looks down to his feet, feeling tears forming in his eyeballs, product of his low alcohol tolerance, and his overall emotional state. “Dont call me love. You don't love me”

She reaches for his hands, attempting to make him look straight at her eyes “Of course I love you Mark”

“Not the way I want you to”

She had never been good with other people's feelings, especially romantic feelings, she had a hard time catching indirects.

“In which way is that?” hesitant, Mark stares at her for a couple seconds, before staring at her lips, too numb to do better, he grabes her chin and pulls her closer to him, a sweet, slow kiss surprising her as much as himself. When he pulls away and expects a response of any kind, all she can do is try to look at him.

“Oh, Mark” she finally manages to say “is this the way you feel?” he nods, still nervous but hopeful that she'll feel the same “You're drunk, go to sleep” she turns around as she cleans as quick as she can, as mark makes his way to his room, or to the first room he sees open.

Before the other men living in the dorms arrive and ask questions that she doesn't want to answer, she leaves, leaving a post it note in the fridge for Mark”

“Drink water and have a painkiller,

I had to go home. Thanks for the wine

-Y/N”

Too many weeks after, Mark calls her phone one more time before he enters the dorms, wondering if he had really done the worst thing in the world, for her to ghost him like that. He let a tired sigh out, grateful that he was home alone again. He goes to his room, ready to sleep for as long as he can, but when he opens the door, the lights are on, and in his bed sits what could be only described as an angel, beautiful as always, smiling and kind Y/N, with a cup of wine in her delicate hands, and another one on his nightstand, that she offers him as he's taking off his shoes and sweater.

With pain and regret in her eyes, as he's taking the first sip, she attempts to break the silence. “You ever notice how wine makes people feel sexy?”

[twoblueheartslocked]

Seblaine- Present Day (End Of July/YEAR 1)

Para: Now I Wake Up By Your Side My One and Only, My Lifeline

Rating: NC-17.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Year One: Present Day- End of July, about a month  after You’re Every Song I’ve Ever Loved. 

Location: Sebastian’s Apartment- Manhattan, New York

Info:  Blaine gets brave and spends the weekend at Sebastian’s apartment. Blaine lets himself explore Sebastian even more. They have a heart to heart.

Warnings: This particular Para is smutty and sweet. Also has major mentions of past abuse. This rp as a whole mentions past abuse(Physical, mental and sexual), post unwanted sexual situations, anxiety, depression, negative body image, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Title Taken From: Dress by Taylor Swift

Under Cut for content.  As usual, the para is mostly unedited.

 Blaine’s POV:

 The scorching July sun beat down on Blaine as he swiftly and hurriedly shuffled down the last two blocks to get to Sebastian’s apartment, head down so people would leave him be. It was the kind of melted butter day where the world  felt too bright and sticky and everything had a muted orange sheen to it, like an old film from the 1970’s. Still there was beauty to it, the way the early evening glow slowly dripped and sizzled over the city in a lazy haze. He was still a bit frazzled from his short subway ride over to Manhattan, his arms still tightly locked around  Soot’s little cat carrier to clutch her close. She seemed to be just as anxious as he was, her orange eyes wide and worried.

 He hated taking the Subway, it was cramped and people liked to talk to you and get into your face and sometimes they even tried  and succeeded in touching you. People screamed at each other and sometimes there were fights and it was all so triggering that he almost regretted doing it, however, it was the fastest way to Sebastian’s apartment and he didn’t want his boyfriend to think he was completely incompetent. He’d declined Seb’s offer to send an uber or taxi and declined his offer to send his driver. He’d also declined Seb’s offer to drive over himself… He’d told him he’d be fine and to just let him do this. Because Blaine wanted and needed to do this on his own. 

 If he were going to be making an effort to visit his boyfriend at his home more often he needed to get there on his own. Seb managed to get to him just fine. They’d spent the last seven months sort of pretending that Blaine’s little slice of Brooklyn was the only part of New York that existed and it was entirely selfish of Blaine to ask that it remain that way. He used to love Manhattan, but now he only came here rarely for certain school things he couldn’t do in Brooklyn. However, maybe with Sebastian he could learn to love it again. He was an adult and he was getting better and more comfortable with himself and his skin every day that he spent with Sebastian in his life. 

 He tried not to think too hard about that though because here he was, acting as if he’d taken a huge step and yet he’d had to bring his cat with him like a security blanket. He’d told Seb it was because she was scared to be alone for the two days Blaine planned to be gone, but he knew that it was entirely for him. Soot would have been fine on her own. She liked to sleep in his window almost all day and played with her toys loudly at night more often than not. With enough food and water she’d have been fine for forty eight hours. Blaine just couldn't bring himself to close the door in her adorable little face and walk away for that long though. Seb had promised him it was okay for her to come and that he’d already taken care of what she’d need there even before Blaine had asked. Of course he did.

Blaine finally managed to find Sebastian’s building, the brick on the front of it a light shade of grey, which was surprising because it appeared so clean, light colors wouldn't be so clean on Blaine’s block. The alternating greys were so different from the grimy brick on his

Building and Blaine instantly felt self conscious. He took a deep breath and pulled Soot’s mini crate closer, shushing her little mews gently as he tightened his grip on his backpack. 

 “You can tell he’s here, can’t you?” Maybe she couldn’t, but the little ball of energy suddenly was all meows and feistiness as they neared the entrance of the building.  Seb had been around at least two times a week since they’d gotten her and Blaine had secretly taken to calling Seb her papa in his head. Not that he’d ever say that to his boyfriend or anything. But she loved him and he seemed to enjoy her just as much, spoiling her each time he visited. It seemed Sebastian had a thing for spoiling those he cared about- Blaine was still reeling from the compact little record player that had been sent to his apartment not even three days after their record store date. The thought made Blaine smile and he felt himself relax as he pushed Seb’s buzzer and before he knew it he was standing just inside Sebastian’s apartment, his shabby slip ons mucking up the perfect hardwood. 

 The one bedroom apartment was huge by New York City standards and built for a bachelor.  Blaine wanted to curl into himself. Creeping thoughts about how if he touched the walls or the floors with his fingers his fingertips would leave grime behind from his own home. He knew it was silly, Blaine kept his tiny, shabby place clean and cozy and made the most out of his fleeting space. But, standing here in Sebastian’s gorgeous, minimalist space he felt like a speck of rust that ruined an otherwise perfect surface. The only indication that Sebastian even lived here at all was the blue Columbia University blanket crumbled on the sofa, showing Blaine that maybe Seb fell asleep there sometimes, and a few folders stacked up on the small, two seater breakfast bar. Probably some items for summer classes or things for his next semester. 

 Blaine bit his bottom lip to steady his breathing before setting down her crate so that he could reach out for his boyfriend. He pulled him close, feeling his body instantly melt into his touch. He gave Seb a hello kiss and in return Seb gave Blaine a smile that only he got to see and it told him he was being ridiculous, that he shouldn’t be afraid of an apartment, especially one that Sebastian spent his free time in.  He pulled back after his kiss, but did not pull away. 

 “Your apartment is pretty much exactly like I imagined it. Very… you.” He smiled, trying to keep himself in line. Blaine was finished with classes for the summer and had taken to working extra hours at Bookish and the bar so that he could pick up the slack and so that he wouldn’t get behind on bills and rent and things for Soot, so even thought they’d seen each other the same, it felt a bit like he’d not seen Seb much even if it weren’t the truth.

“Is it completely silly to say I’ve missed you this week?” 

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian spent his morning cleaning. Sure, he could have called somebody in to do it, but he liked to do it himself. Plus, it kept his hands busy and the surprise swell of nerves in his stomach at bay. The apartment was always spotless but he wanted to impress Blaine. He even ran to the store and grabbed a few groceries, as his kitchen was usually pretty bare except for a few essentials (bread, peanut butter, coffee….) Seb grabbed some oat milk, pancake mix, cinnamon, and bacon. He liked it when B made them breakfast for dinner and recognized the ingredients from his own kitchen. Blaine would probably enjoy working in a pretty much unused kitchenette. 

He’d bought a small litter box and litter (which was confusing as fuck, Clumping? Scented? Dust free?) and set up the disgusting thing in his small laundry room. The setup this time was just as bad as when he helped his boyfriend with his, and little flecks of gray got all over the clean tile. Sebastian immediately regretted not buying something to set it on. The messes would be worth it, though, to make Blaine comfortable in the apartment. 

 Sebastian was laying on the couch when he heard a small knock on the door. He looked through the peephole to see the other man clutching his pet carrier which was such an endearing sight that a small grin spread across his face. He opened the door and the two of them were immediately in an embrace.  “Is that a good thing?” Seb looked over his shoulder around the living area. “I know it’s sort of plain but, it’s less to worry about.”

 Sebastian stepped aside after another kiss so that B and Soot could come inside. “Not silly at all.. I’ve missed you, too. Like...a lot.” He bit his lip and raised his eyebrows and hoped his boyfriend would catch on to the implication he was trying to make. “And we have two whole days to make up for that.” Sebastian reached out and pulled Blaine in again for a few playful kisses that ended up sort of intense, with hands under shirts and sighs on lips. He would have let Blaine press him into the door right then and there if it weren’t for the small shrieks escaping from Soot who was still in her crate. 

 “Should probably let her out and get acquainted with the place.”

 Blaine’s POV:

 “It’s a good thing, Seb and it’s not plain. It’s organized and simple. A little afraid perhaps? Like maybe you’re afraid to show too much of yourself to anyone that might come over. Lucky for me I know you, and maybe one day you’ll have a classy Wonder Woman poster over your sofa instead of a blank space.” He winked, grinning in his teasing and hoping Sebastian didn’t take an offence to his assessment.

 A little tremor of desire slid down his body and rested in his core as Sebastian told him he missed him a lot. Blaine could hear the thinly veiled lust edging out Sebastian’s sure voice and he wanted nothing more than to show him right now that he’d missed him just as much. He licked his lips, his breath hitching and body buzzing with anticipation of just what might happen over the next two days. 

 Slowly, the thought of being in a strange place didn’t feel so strange when Seb was looking at him like that and when he was touching him with care and affection.  Even now Sebastian was looking out for him. His boyfriend clearly had things on his  mind, very much seemed to want to do more than just kissing, but he made sure to start everything softly, something Blaine still needed. He made sure to pull him close and kiss him gently first and then made his move. Sebastian’s long fingers gripped at Blaine’s hips under his shirt and just above the band of his jeans, and Blaine kissed back with just as much intensity, his fingers slipping up Seb’s shirt to toy with the faint trail of hair that dusted his tummy and lead to parts of his boyfriend body that he very much wanted to touch and tease.

He could feel the tightening of desire in the pit of his stomach with each slide of their tongues. It was a feeling that he was relearning wasn’t a bad thing as he and Sebastian got closer and became more confident. Blaine wanted him more and more as the weeks and months marched on. The want and act of asking or better yet, showing how badly he needed and wanted to be touched was something he thought he’d never feel positive about again. But, with Sebastian he found himself imagining more experimental things. Since they started getting intimate over the last few months they’d explored, of course. They’d touched and tasted each other, and had moved together in Tagore sheets. Blaine had had panics and Seb had even had some moments where he sort of tensed up for a second only to brush it off in the heat of the moment. They always fell into rhythm and seemed to reach each other’s body perfectly, but sometimes Blaine found he wanted to whisper filthy things to Sebastian or he wanted to nip at his flushed skin while his boyfriend moaned underneath him.

 Sometimes they’d be having sex and Blaine’s fingers would rest against Seb’s slender neck and his boyfriend would tilt his head back as if giving him permission to do what he wanted to him and Blaine would wonder what it would feel like to squeeze just a little bit. Wondered if he’d feel the frantic flutter of Seb’s heartbeat under his fingertips, or the rumble of his intensified moans. He wanted to pin Seb’s arms above his head and press them firmly into the pillows to keep him from touching either one of them, make him beg for every little roll of his hips and then kiss the breath from him until he couldn’t take it anymore. The thoughts always edged him even closer. Only then he’d remember what Kurt had done, all the bruises on his own neck and the name calling and slut shaming. The ridicule and power trips that turned into Blaine lying there afraid to move.  None of that was consensual or fun and the thoughts made him second guess what was right and he’d end up just sliding his fingers into Seb’s hair or pressing them against Seb’s chest to where at least he still got to feel his heartbeat in some way

 How could Blaine ask for anything like that after everything he’d been through? Surely Seb would think he was projecting, right? It didn’t feel that way to Blaine though, to him it felt like trust. Like he was able to be himself and maybe these were things he was into before his life went to shit with his parents in that crash, before their deaths crushed him to almost nothing. Before he himself, and then  Kurt shattered what was left…Maybe one day he’d work up the courage to just ask what Seb might be into, and maybe he could give it to him.   Still, he was getting better, and knowing that was enough for him for now. He was more comfortable with being desperate and breathless for his person.

 Blaine didn’t want to let go, he’d worked up the courage to slip his hand down the front of Seb’s pants and just as he was about to wrap his fingers around his boyfriend Seb stopped kissing him. He reluctantly withdrew his hand and could still feel the heavy weight of his boyfriend’s arousal on his fingertips. They had time. Apparently Soot didn’t like seeing her parents get intimate. He sighed, the little annoyed meows beckoning them to part and Blaine had the urge to just open the little door and let the little baby terror find her own way round the flat. He straightened his shirt and adjusted himself, uncomfortable from how hard he was now and having to abruptly stop. He bent down and opened the door. Soot’s petite head instantly poked out and she gave them both the most annoyed look as if to say; hey, I’m the most important, how could you forget me in there? Blaine gave her a smile and coaxed her out more by pitching his voice a bit.  

 “Come on, sweet little beastie. Come tell Sebastian thank you for letting you crash his super clean home.” He laughed as she seemed to do just that as she pranced over to Sebastian and head butted his ankle as a hello. “Couldn't just fall asleep in there for like an hour, could ya?” He was teasing of course. Soot pretty much always came first. He looked up at Seb, his boyfriends face was still flushed, and his pupils were still wide with want and Blaine wondered if they’d make it to nightfall at all. 

 “I don’t suppose you’d like to give the two of us a little tour? That way she knows where to eat and go to the bathroom and I get to see the place where I may let you get some sleep tonight.” He knew he was blushing as he said the last part, his lips curled into a bashful smile, his voice suddenly very shy. He had surprised himself with his little innuendo.

 “I mean, well, you know what I mean…”

 Sebastian’s POV:

Seb sighed and tugged his clothes back into place. He smiled when the small black cat bumped his ankle affectionately and looked up to find Blaine who seemed just as disheveled as he was. “Scoop her up and I’ll show you where I set everything up.” Cats were usually pretty disagreeable when it came to carrying them around but it seemed like Soot didn’t mind anytime B held her. They both probably needed the comfort after such short, hard lives. Seb led  them to the small laundry room where the litter box and food were set up. “I forgot to get a water bowl so, hopefully this will work. I,uh, stole it from a restaurant a while ago.” He pointed to the porcelain tea cup gilded with gold paint. “I was drunk at this stuffy place and...well, yeah. It’s a cat dish now.” 

 They let Soot sniff around her new digs as they walked around the rest of the apartment. She seemed a little afraid but okay, already comfortable on the arm of the couch. He motioned towards the bathroom and his bedroom. Sebastian stood outside of the open door and felt a thrill spark low in his body. “I expect you to keep me up late.” 

 He reached forward slowly so as to not surprise Blaine and toyed with the collar on his shirt. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s super hot when you talk like that.”  Seb bit his bottom lip and let his free hand reach for the door handle behind him. “Why wait for night?” He opened the door and walked backwards with his hand gently pulling Blaine inside.  The room was just as simple as the rest of his place- a small black dresser with a matching nightstand and bed decked out in all navy blue. Maybe letting B decorate with little splashes of color might be a good thing but they had other business to attend to at the moment. 

 “The bed is awfully comfortable…” He sat on the edge, B stood in front of him. Sebastian’s hand slid down his boyfriend’s clothed chest to cup him through his jeans. “I think the sheets need a little messing up, though. Don’t you?” 

 Blaine’s POV:

“You stole a teacup? Adult drunk you must’ve been a character.” It was destructive, sure, but it was a harmless prank and no one got hurt. Of course there was a good reason Sebastian didn’t drink anymore, things like this had become hurtful in different ways. Seb was sober now and Blaine was proud of him. But he couldn’t help himself and fought a smile as he took in the sight of the little cat box and dishes Sebastian had set out for the little ball energy. Soot sniffed around, stole a few pieces of food and darted off in the direction of the living room, satisfied. She was nervous but he could tell she felt safe here, how could she not, she had both of her favorite people to watch over her. Before Blaine could say much  more she had turned herself into a vibrating  loaf of black fur on the arm of the couch.

 Blaine let himself look around the bedroom, it was pristine and hardly looked lived in. However,  the navy blue was a comfort, it reminded him of Dalton days and nights spent driving around the Westerville back roads with Sebastian by his side, hand in hand and belting out terrible pop songs. But it was much bigger than his room now. It was more open and the bed was bigger, it didn’t look like it would squeak if you put pressure on it. He had a small moment of panic, he’d gotten used to the way his bedroom walls encased them, keeping them safe as they moved together, but that was silly and Blaine knew it. He looked up at Seb, his words sending a little thrill through him. He knew that Seb’s arms could keep him safer than the flimsy walls of his apartment and that what he was missing was the familiarity of it all. He licked his lips, the lust and desire returned times ten to the pit of his stomach.

 “I think I can do that…”

 He trailed off as Sebastian reached out for him gently, his skin prickling pleasantly where his fingertips very lightly touched his neck as he toyed with his shirt. He moved forwards with Seb as his boyfriend sat down on the edge of the bed and touched him through his jeans. Sebs’s lips were quirked in a sly smile and yet he was still aware of what Blaine needed to be comfortable, still showed his hands and even though he was guiding him, he still let Blaine call the shots. Blaine bit his bottom lip, his breath hitching as Seb’s fingers caressed him through the thick cloth of his jeans. He closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself, steadying himself. He felt overwhelmed again, as was always the case with Sebastian, that he wanted too much all at once. He wanted to touch him, taste him, fuck him, wanted to make him squirm underneath him, wanted Seb to kiss bruises into his sensitive, forbidden neck, wanted to watch as Seb swallowed around him- eyes always bright, heavy and wanting as he did so. The thoughts made his cheeks heat up as he reached out and cupped his boyfriend's face in his hands, and pressed his hips into his fingers.

 “My plan is to keep the bed messy all weekend long…” 

 The words were murmured against Seb’s lips before he licked into his mouth. He pressed on Sebastian’s shoulders  down and over so that he was lying back against the bed, his head haloed by blue pillows. Without thinking too much about the late afternoon light still surrounding them and leaving nothing hidden, he pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the ground before moving to undo his own jeans, watching Seb’s face as he stripped down. He was still self conscious in his skin, years worth of abuse leaving him that way,  but he loved the way his boyfriends eyes devoured each bit of skin he exposed, like he wanted to taste it all. He was getting better. He made sure Seb saw all of him before moving to tug Seb’s sweats down and he wasn’t disappointed that that’s all he had on, his boyfriends cock sprang free and hard and it was so satisfying to Blaine that he was already so hard just from kissing and looking. 

 He watched Seb for a moment, his boyfriend stretched out over the bed, his legs already spread fo him and waiting and god he was fucking perfect and Blaine felt that creeping want to pin him down and just have his way with him wash over him. He blushed, a little ashamed of himself at the thought, but not enough to get rid of the thought entirely. He motioned towards the nightstand, a usual palace to keep condoms and lube and wasn’t surprised that they were there, but a little surprised that Seb had gone out and gotten Blaine’s specific type. It made him feel good, even though it was basically a given. He took one out of the box and took the lube before moving to the bed and crawling up so that he was between Seb’s spread legs, his head rested against his thigh as he slowly stroked him up and down before taking him into his mouth. He tasted like soap and a tangy flavor that was just so Sebastian that Blaine moaned around him, wanting nothing more than to taste the rest of him. He slicked his fingers up, his tongue swirling around the head of Seb’s cock, his eyes locking with his boyfriends, silently asking if he was doing okay. He wasn’t even sure he was good at this anymore, and had been made to feel like he was terrible at all of it. But, being with Seb had shown him that wasn’t true. He felt bold today, maybe not as bold as he wanted to be, but bold enough to take control for a moment.

 He let his slick fingers move from Seb’s cock and down fondling and tugging in all the right places before gently pressing two of them  inside of his boyfriends body, slowly pumping them in and out as he sunk his mouth all the way down on his, relishing in the feeling of him in the back of his throat and heavy on his tongue. Seb’s legs fell open even more in response. 

Sebastian’s POV:

 Sebastian loved the confidence that Blaine had as he pressed him into the bed and undressed in the glimmer of the Manhattan golden hour. He caught a glimpse of the old B, before Kurt had taken him and torn him in half like a piece of junk mail, when he crawled between his legs. Their eye contact didn’t break once and his lips were quirked into a little smirk. If he wasn’t so fucking turned on and hard, he’d mention that he was proud but, that could be a topic for later. 

 He let his body be open and ready. Seb wanted Blaine to know that he had him and had his trust and could do whatever he wanted. They could go as slow or as fast as he wanted, Sebastian wanted to experience it all with him. They had so much to catch up on, after all. 

 Seb sighed as he felt Blaine’s head rest against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Goosebumps spread over his arms and it felt like the burn of desire raced from his cock all the way to his toes and up to his fingertips. Seb’s hands came up to grip the pillows by his head, his back was arched and his knees bent. Everything B was doing felt wet and hot and perfect.  As Blaine kept it up he knew he was going to come, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to stop. 

Sebastian’s hips rose and his body shook as he came, Blaine’s name on his lips. He felt the other man hum around him and Sebastian could fucking swear that his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

 As Blaine nuzzled and kissed his belly, Sebastian tried to catch his breath. 

 “B…” Sebastian reached for his boyfriend’s flushed face so that he could look at him. “If you wanna keep going....I want you to do whatever you want to me.” His voice sounded gruff and shaky but he wanted the message to be clear and consensual.

 Blaine’s POV:

Blaine could feel Sebastian contract around his fingers and couldn't help but moan as Sebastian came sudden and hard into his mouth. He did his best to swallow every last drop he could get, enjoying the salty sweetness. He was slowly letting himself learn that he didn’t need to feel bad about how much he liked the taste.  It was intoxicating, like a drug or drink he couldn’t seem to get enough of. Maybe he’d be embarrassed about it later, but right now, in this moment he let himself really feel the moment. He was so fucking turned on as his boyfriend reached for his face and his raspy, post orgasm voice telling him he could keep going almost sent him over the edge right there.  

Seb’s eyes were heavy, and his legs were shaking still as he came down and there was something about the thought of knowing he still got to fuck into him even though Seb was already satisfied. The thought of getting to touch and use Seb’s overly sensitive body made him bite his bottom lip to keep from moaning again. He kissed Seb’s tummy again, nuzzling his nose into the soft trail of hair there before gently climbing up his body and settling between his legs. He held the other man's face between his hands and pressed sweet yet dirty open mouthed kisses against his lips trying to show him how much he loved him and how bad he wanted him at the same time. 

 “You sure? We can stop whenever you want...” He mumbled the words between kisses, pulling back just enough to really see Seb’s face. He nodded, his eyes going wide and serious for a moment only to go heavy and full of lust the next. Blaine reached between them and found the condom he’d gotten out and fumbled only for a second getting it open before sliding it on with slightly shaking hands, he made sure he was slick before pressing his fingers into Sebastian’s body one more time. Of course Seb was still ready and he knew that, but Blaine couldn’t help himself, he wanted to feel the wet heat one more time before lining his cock up and slowly pressing himself deeper and deeper. Seb moaned and so did he and that was all he needed to get himself moving. He fucked into his boyfriend slow and hard, each roll of his hips feeling better than the last. He wasn’t sure if it was the way Seb moaned for him or the way his fingers pressed into his hips, but Blaine was losing himself in the moment. A primal want took over his body in a way it had not in a long time. Maybe he could have a little bit of what he’d been thinking about. Just a little bit. He trusted Seb, knew he’d tell him if it was too much, and Seb trusted him. Blaine knew that. He knew that he could have whatever he wanted if only he were brave enough to ask for it. Why had he not asked before? The answer lay with the shame and ridicule Kurt had put him through, but he pushed that to the back of his mind.

 He nipped at the pulse point in Seb’s neck lightly, delighting in the little gasps that got him. He took a chance and slid his hands to where Seb was gripping his hips and took hold of both of Seb’s wrists before pinning them down on either side of his head. He pushed them into the pillow, using them for leverage as he fucked into him, never taking his eyes off of his boyfriend's face, wanting to make sure it was okay, but also wanting Seb to open himself up even more. 

 “Spread your legs a little more for me…” His voice was low, almost not even there. 

 He squeezed just a little tighter, rocking his hips down and into him just a little harder.

 “You like it like this, don't you? You like the way it feels...” They were statements and questions all wrapped into one, he felt nervous yet confident that he was doing something Seb and him both enjoyed. He was almost shocked that he’d said anything at all, that he was able to pin his boyfriend down, something that an hour ago was only a thought in his head… He moved his lips close to Seb’s ear, snaking his tongue along the shell before breathing his question lowly into it. His fingers still closed around his wrists pinning him down tightly.

 “Can you come for me again?”

Sebastian’s POV:

 Sebastian’s body felt shaky and amplified, it was the feeling of lighting firecrackers and trying to run fast enough to get away, adrenaline and excitement racing hard through veins. He nodded up at Blaine whose intense eyes never left his. Seb loved the way it felt, the twirl of pleasure and pain felt dangerous and delicious. He considered himself well read but he’d never be able to put into words how good he felt and how it was all made better by the confidence that was peeking through in B’s hands and hips. 

 He did as he was told, his thighs ached a little but he didn’t mind it. His boyfriend had a firm grip on both of his wrists, the contact made him moan. He was so impressed by the primal little things the other man was doing to him. Blaine’s skin was hot and a little bit slick with sweat. Sebastian’s body already felt like it could go again. His cock was hard again and fuck, this was Blaine fucking Anderson, looking at him while rolling his hips into him. Could he come again?

 “Fuck yeah.”

 His voice was barely there but the message was heard. Sebastian knew that the other man had him. Maybe he had always known that, even when they hadn’t spoken for years, even when the phone rang at 2 AM and drunken feelings took over, even when they had avoided each other out of pain or nerves. Blaine would always be patiently waiting, Sebastian would always be ready to jump to catch the other. 

 “Love you.”

 Blaine’s POV:

Blaine was so in the moment that he barely registered the ache in his legs and hips as he pressed into his boyfriend. He hardly noticed the time as it passed. All that mattered was Sebastian around him and the open mouthed look of pure want on his face. Sebastian was looking up at him like he was everything and it made Blaine feel more alive than he’d ever felt before. It was one of those many times where he wanted to bottle the whole last hour up and save it for when he felt insecure or  meek. He didn’t know he had this in him and Sebastian had brought it out of him with patience and encouragement.

 His body acted on it’s own accord when Sebastian reassured him in such a small voice that he could come again. The thought of Seb falling apart underneath him all over again sent little shivers down his spine in anticipation of getting to watch it happen before letting himself feel that release. Blaine leaned down and nipped at  Seb’s neck before soothing the spot with his tongue and lips, losing himself in the moment, his hips rolling slow and deep. Sebastian was just so open for him… He was so lost in the movements and wanting to make Seb feel good that he almost missed the whispered words. 

 “Fuck… Seb…-”

 He lifted his head and looked down at his boyfriend- Seb’s eyes focused on him and it was so raw and so sweet that Blaine’s hips stuttered and he lost the control he’d had. His orgasm hit hard and fast and maybe he should have been embarrassed that an I love you could send him over the edge, but this I love you came from Sebastian and it meant everything and Blaine could have cried with how much it all meant to him. He tried to steady himself, his face pressed into Seb’s neck as he rode the waves out. He pulled back to look down at his boyfriend, one hand sliding from Seb’s wrists to gently cup his face, the other slipping between them so he could touch Sebastian, wrap around him and help him reach the top so he could catch him as he fell back down . 

 “God, I love you back so fucking much.”

 His words were soft and stilted, hard to get out but still clear as day. His breathing was still heavy from his movements. He did his best to stay pressed inside, wanting Sebastian to feel him inside of him as he stroked him through. He leaned forward and licked into his mouth, the kisses still a bit dirty but with a sweetness to them that only came from loving and trusting someone. His words were quiet and trapped between their teeth, tongues, and lips as he spoke, meant to reassure him for more than just tonight.

 “I’ve got you…”

 Sebastian’s POV:

The connection between them felt raw and powerful. They didn’t even need to speak to understand each other. Blaine could read the thrum of Sebastian's heartbeat, the arch of his back. It had always been like that, it had always been meant to be like this. He kept his eyes on B, he wanted to watch him tumble apart, wanted to hear him moan his name- his favorite sight and sound. Seb could feel his boyfriend’s hips stutter, his grip tighten around his wrists.

“C’mon, B…” Seb whispered and coaxed B through his orgasm. 

Blaine’s warm hand on his face, the feeling of him still inside, it all made him humm with pleasure. He could live off of the whispers the other man left on his lips, the feeling of a smile against teeth, a gasp against the side of the other’s mouth. 

Sebastian knew that Blaine had him. If there was something he never had to doubt, it was that. That was why everything hit so hard when they fell apart before, if B wasn’t there, who really had his back? Who else did he have to laugh into the phone at midnight with? Who was there to reach through his stormy mind with nothing but a smile? He nodded, he knew Blaine understood.

 Blaine’s firm grip and kisses helped him fall over the edge once more and Seb was wrapped up in the other man’s strong arms immediately. They lay wrapped around each other, heavily breathing and kissing each other’s cheeks, lips, noses, foreheads. 

 They lay like that for a while before either one of them spoke. Sebastian nipped at Blaine’s bottom lip and nuzzled his jawbone, his five o clock shadow already peeking through. 

 “I take it that you like it here.”

 Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tucked his face into Sebastian’s neck, lying next to him and wrapped around him now. His breathing finally seemed to be steadying and he finally felt like he was on the ground again. His body was sore in all the right places and even though it was still early evening he could have snuggled into Sebastian and whispered sweetness until they both fell asleep for the night. Surly Soot would find her way to them and she too would curl up at their feet as they slept. It was as perfect as a thought could be and Blaine almost asked for it. But, he was a bit hungry and a little nudge on his jaw from Seb took him away from it. He turned to look at his boyfriend, his nips and kisses causing him to break out in a grin and he laughed as he answered, his body snuggled close so that their chest were touching. He reached out and traced his fingertips down Seb’s arm, tracing the little stardust of freckles.

 “I do like it here. But, I mean, with you here with me it’s just perfect. I feel like I’m safe wherever you are…” His voice was soft as he thought, his brain catching up to reality as he really took in the question.  “It’s out there- alone... that’s hard.” He bit his lip and then shook his head, letting out a little breathy laugh so it wouldn’t get too deep even though his heart was pounding now for a different reason. “I suppose I’m just going to have to take you with me wherever I go.” He shrugged and let his traveling fingertips rest at Seb’s wrist. Usually they were pale and delicate, but now they were slightly pink and just a touch heated and the memory of squeezing and pressing them down jolted Blaine into a bad memory. Triggering him into a moment of panic.

 “Oh god, did I hurt you?”

Suddenly he was terrified that he’d done something wrong. That by acting on primal urges he was just as bad as Kurt, even if Blaine knew in the passionate moment that Sebastian was into it and that if Seb had said to stop that Blaine would have let go and backed away- a shock still went through him that he’d managed to leave a little bit of a mark and his heart pounded even harder as he sat up cross legged next to Seb and reached for his wrist and pressed kisses to them before reaching for other parts of Seb’s body that his fingertips had pressed into just to check him over. He blinked, his eyes a little stingy. Why had he wanted to do this? Why did he want to hold him down and take control? Was there something wrong with him? In the moment it had seemed fun and sexy and something he’d been into before his life went to shit, but how could he like it after all that happened? And again for the second time that night he wondered how he could ask for something like this or even want it… 

 A little voice in his head told him to calm down, and told him it was okay. It sounded a lot like a mix of his and Sebastian’s; You had fun, Blaine. This is different from the nightmare Kurt put you through. You trust Seb and he trusts you. Don’t compare it. Just breathe… Trust him, trust yourself.

 “I-I didn’t think… I don’t even know why I did that. I’m so sorry, baby…”

 The name slipped out organically in a mumble against Sebastian’s chest, never used on anyone else before, as the beat of his boyfriend's heart thudded  against his lips reassuring him he was still here and okay. He pulled back to look at him, his thumbs gently rubbing over the already faded marks on Seb’s wrists.

 “I mean, yeah, it was super fun and hot, but I shouldn’t have done it.” Right? 

 Sebastian’s POV:

 Blaine’s fingertips ghosted over Sebastian’s wrists. He could see the switch in his boyfriend’s eyes, the panic tugging his bottom lip down into a frown. Seb wasn’t hurt, he felt satisfied and tired and in need of a cigarette or two. “I’m good.” He looked at his wrists and saw that they were a little red but that was okay with him. It would just be a reminder of their time together. “I like it when you leave marks.” 

Seb liked the weight of  Blaine’s head on his chest but hated that he felt upset with himself. “You have nothing to worry about. I wanted you to do it, I promise.” A small twinge of pleasure slid up his spine when the other man called him baby, he liked how that sounded. If B wasn’t so worried, he’d drown the other man in kisses. 

 “Hey, look at me.” Sebastian sat up and made sure the two of them made direct eye contact. “You know that I trust you, right? I would stop you if something were wrong. “ He reached out to hold Blaine’s hand, “I know that you’ve been through hell. But, you’re not Kurt, okay? He’s a fucking prick. You’re a good person, you listen to me and my body.” Speaking so openly like this made himself feel a little better about the bullshit he went through in the past himself. “I’ve had my share of...uncomfortable experiences. I know I don’t talk about it much but, we aren’t the people that have hurt us. Even though we fell apart for a bit, please believe me when I say that you have always treated me with respect and have never made me feel ashamed of being sexual.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s body gave an involuntary shudder when Sebastian mentioned that he liked the faint marks he’d left on his body. Once upon a time it wouldn’t have been such a  big deal, sure, Blaine might have still panicked a tiny bit and fret over Seb, but that was in his nature. But,  now, after everything he felt like he’d done something wrong. He knew that he hadn't, he really did, but this part of him, the part that Kurt had shamed and shoved down, had turned some of his pleasures and little kinks and perversions and pain so of course Blaine would feel off about it. Seb was looking at him wide eyed and honest and Blaine knew he meant what he said. 

He let Sebastian take hold of his hand and made himself look up so that he could really listen to his boyfriend.  It hurt his chest and his pounding heart to be reminded that Sebastian had been abused by past lovers before, one’s that took his sexual nature and took it just a bit too far, and Blaine wanted to scoop him up and promise him that he’d always been taken care of. Wanted to whisper words of comfort and a little part of him wanted to go find each person that had gotten too rough or too persistent and smack the shit out of them. It wouldn’t help, of course, he knew that. All he could do was pull Seb closer to him and nod as he spoke and accept his boyfriend's words as fact. 

Maybe Blaine would have another moment of panic, and maybe Blaine would need to slow down sometimes. But there was no denying how they worked together or how they just knew each other’s body. What he’d done was okay. He wasn’t bad for wanting to press his boyfriend down, he wasn’t horrible for wanting to talk dirty or for leaving gentle marks with his fingertips or his lips- they had been made out of love and trust. Sitting here looking at Sebastian he wanted to smack himself for almost ruining the moment with his anxiety again. Of course this was all okay. Look how much fun they’d had… Their movements together and the way Seb’s body just responded to Blaine was the most natural thing, and Blaine had known how to do it without second thought and Seb had risen to him and fell apart in his arms and it had been perfect and Blaine didn’t need to worry. He’d taken control and neither one of them was hurt. Maybe he’d need to be reminded again later, but right now Seb’s face and gentle words told him all he needed to know. 

 “I trust you too, Seb. With everything.” He bit his lip, feeling a bit sheepish all over again. “I promise to never shame you or make you feel like something you want is wrong. And I promise to always listen to what you tell me and what your body tells me. I just got anxious, the marks Kurt left were always angry and harsh and just seeing the red here sort of made me wonder if I was any better. I know that’s not true and I know you’d tell me if I did hurt you, I guess I just had a moment.” He sort of shrugged and laughed. 

 “We got so close again so fast, sometimes I feel like I should still be that shell of a boy you met again on New Year’s. The one that could hardly look at you and could barely stand to be touched. I still don't like it much, but when it comes to you … Well, I’m yours. We’ve just done so much for each other, it’s still a bit baffling to see the progress. I love it, and I wouldn't change it, but I guess I need to take a step back and see it for what it is and how much you’ve helped me. We’ve helped each other.”

He cleared his throat and let his thumb run over the now faded marks on Seb’s wrist. 

“You know… one day you’ll have to tell me if there’s anything you want to try. Any hidden kinks that maybe I can work my way up to.” He teased and leaned in and stole a kiss. “But for now maybe we should go check on Soot and perhaps I can make you some dinner. Assuming you have something for me to cook.” He grinned, feeling better and closer still to his person.

 Sebastian’s POV:

 Only the two of them could have had passionate sex followed by important conversation. It felt special and real and Blaine was right, it was so easy to fall back into each other that at times it was almost jarring at how little time had actually passed. “We have helped each other. I mean, look at how mushy you have me acting.” He smiled, “We got each other.”

 Sebastian watched as Blaine touched his wrists. Of course he knew that they would both have low moments and bouts of anxiety, times where they didn’t really want to be touched. But, he also knew that they were in love and that they were working so hard to better themselves. Neither of them would be fixed overnight. There would always be small little cracks. They just needed to fill their breaks and cracks with gold to come out stronger, like one of those beautiful Japanese vases. 

 “Oh, I’ll tell you anything you want to hear.” Seb’s face broke out into a grin that hurt the corners of his mouth. He loved when Blaine stole kisses from his smiles, made him laugh against his lips, pulled him in for a few more. “You know damn well she’s still asleep. But, I do need a cigarette. You wore me out.” Sebastian poked Blaine gently in the side. “You’re going to be quite impressed, Anderson. I bought some groceries.” 

 Blaine put on one of Sebastian’s grey Columbia hoodies. He loved the way he looked in it and told him that he could keep it. They padded out into the kitchen where Seb laid out the items he had bought and B set to work on their evening breakfast. Soot, who was fast asleep still, woke to the sizzle of bacon in the pan and rubbed all over both of them. Sebastian silently promised her the fat off of a piece of bacon as he scratched behind her pointy ears. He could get used to this, he thought. The scent of bacon grease, the little sounds of Soot’s paws on the hardwood, Blaine humming in the kitchen. For the first time since he had moved to the city, his apartment didn’t feel empty or lonely. It felt like a home.

 /fin.

[asterekmess]

Scott McCall is the poster boy for entitlement, misogyny and toxic masculinity. Remember when he demanded that Allison goes out with her stalker (Matt) and then yelled at her in the middle of a crowded club because she had the audacity to trust her own father to save Jackson instead of obeying him? Or when Scott pinned Allison against her bedroom’s door and humiliated her just to prove how ‘weak’ and ‘fragile’ she was and because “If I’m scared shitless, then you should be scared shitless too”?

I told my friend Mads a long time ago that with every new fic I put out, my urge to become, if not popular, then just understood as an anti-scott blog got stronger. I mean, it’s not like I want my blog to just be about hating Scoot, but I didn’t really want people to come in and follow me thinking I was a Scott fan, because it would be disingenuous.

I think I got my wish? Either one person has a lot of feelings (which I’m all for) or a bunch of v angry anti-scott people have swarmed over me like hummingbirds on sugar water. It’s a really interesting experience!

Anyway, back to your ask. So, I don’t like Scott, and admittedly sometimes I’m a little extra bitter/hateful than others, but I do try to be accurate in my dislikes of him (usually), so I’ll go through what you said one at a time and try to decipher (from my v faulty memory, so apologies if there are mistakes) if I agree with each statement.

Since some people have requested the Read More thing so they can scroll easier.

Scott is: Entitled. Off the cuff, I would agree. I’ve mentioned before how frustrating it was to see the show attempt to portray him as a poor kid, when he’s nowhere near that. I’ve also seen posts before that explore how Scott doesn’t carry a ‘poor kid’ mentality at all (they probably did it better than me, and it was probably Athenadark who did the analyzing). Growing up, I didn’t consciously know I was poor. Not as in ‘i had everything I needed’ but as in “i assumed all kids grew up occasionally eating a single can of pears for dinner or had to return groceries from the car because their parent’s card was declined and they were out of food stamps or wore a pair of tennis shoes until they were literally taped together with packing tape because we couldn’t afford new ones.” I grew up in a poor town, on the poor side of that town, so there wasn’t a lot that showed me it was possible to live differently. Being poor gives you a specific mentality, and when I finally met kids who were ‘middle class’ I was blown away by the differences. I say all this because Scott is very clearly a middle class kid.

Yes, he has an after school job. Who tf didn’t? That doesn’t automatically make you poor? Even my rich friend got a summer job because she wanted to buy band merch and her parents wouldn’t let her. But have you seen his room? It’s a wreck. We get the scene of him digging under his bed trying to find his phone, and I honestly was kinda disgusted. (I also grew up in a hellhole hoarder house, so clutter fucks me up) It’s not just the messiness though. It’s finding out that his mom is the one doing the laundry. Melissa “One shift won’t break us completely” McCall still cleans her son’s room and does his laundry and sews his clothes even though she’s supposed to be working herself to death at the hospital. Oh, and he’s sixteen years old, so he should be able to do his own fucking laundry? it’s one thing if his stuff ends up there while she’s doing laundry, but apparently she goes out of her way to do his clothes regularly enough that she has no qualms about going in his room to clean? Scott works at a VET’s office and has for long enough that he can put a cast on a dog and feels confident giving it painkillers in the right dosage. And he can’t sew a line of stitches in his clothes? He’s got an ensuite bathroom. His room is clearly the master bedroom. He doesn’t make his mom dinner to bring her, he picks up chinese. And there’s the house itself and its size, etc. Of the two of them, i would’ve expected Stiles to have the messy room. He’s adhd, I know how hard it is to keep a room clean with that kind of headspace. But no, his is really clean most of the time, even his desk, unless he’s researching something specific. I mention Stiles because it’s the comparison of the two that makes Scott’s own messiness stand out. Hell, literally no other bedroom we’re shown is messy in the slightest. Allison’s, Lydia’s, Jackson’s, none of them. (I don’t remember Liam’s room, if we saw it) He feels entitled enough to take up extra space and add extra work to his mother’s stress level (which, listen, I’m not saying being not-poor makes you entitled. I’m saying that the show makes the claim Scott IS poor and he Still does these things. THAT is the entitled part.)

Then there’s his relationship with Stiles. “Yeah, but I had you before.” When talking about the good and bad things in his life, he doesn’t even think to mention Stiles as one of the good things. He says he has nothing, just like before. Stiles isn’t even on his radar, even though they’re looking right at each other. Yet we know that Stiles is basically Scott’s only friend. As someone else with very few friends, I can’t imagine saying to my best friend’s face that I have nothing and no one. Let alone if that friend had been keeping me from dying and teaching me how to be a fucking werewolf for months on end. When do we see him worry about Stiles being human and stuck in the middle of all this? Especially in earlier seasons, we never see him say anything like “maybe you should hang back cus’ you’ll get hurt.” Like, we know that Stiles would do it anyway. And we’d get pissed if Scott told Stiles he wasn’t allowed to help because he was human, but that’s because Scott doesn’t get to tell Stiles what to do. We know Stiles finds ways to protect himself when he has to, but Scott never even asks. He never hints at “I’m worried about you and please know I wont’ be mad if you stay away from the fight.” Even Derek shoves Stiles behind him when the kanima shows up. There’s the thing where he warns them ‘if something goes wrong call for me.” But he explicity says that worry is for Allison, even though she has some method of self-defense. Stiles has nothing. Scott never cares enough to think “Maybe we shouldn’t bring him to the rave where there’s gonna be a vicious killing machine that has already tried to attack him once.” One word from Peter “vulnerable” and Scott stalks Allison (and forces Stiles to help him) for a week. But Stiles gets trapped in a pool for hours, scared out of his mind, and Scott never so much as seems to get clingy? He just assumes Stiles will be fine. He feels entitled to Stiles’ help and assistance, without putting any thought into Stiles’ safety. He asks “is it illegal?” not “Will you get in trouble?” He looks at Stiles when he says “I can’t protect anyone” But when was he trying to protect STILES?  Then there’s the part where while he’s ‘under the influence of the wolfsbane whistle’ (A plot point I fucking hate) he drags Stiles down with him and includes him in being nothing. Being no one. He assumes that if he was nothing before the bite, then Stiles must’ve been nothing also. And since Stiles didn’t get bitten, it also implies that Stiles is still nothing. He’s just hanging on Scott’s wolfy coattails. That’s an incredibly entitled viewpoint to have.

Admittedly, we do see some more humble moments with Allison, especially at the beginning of their relationship, where he says “I just wanna make sure I get my second chance” he’s not assuming he’ll get it. Go scott! (I’m not the hugest fan of him asking her out after he’s clearly just done her a massive favor and is keeping her from getting in trouble for hitting a dog, and she’s wearing his SHIRT and she can’t really say no without looking absolutely horrible, but she seemed pretty into him, so I’ll let it go) But once they’re together? I know that most best friends share secrets and private stuff with each other...but Scott tells Stiles so much about his sex life with Allison that Stiles is actually pissed off and kind of disgusted by it. Stiles. Who is supposed to be sex obsessed. Even he thinks that it’s just way too much information. I can’t imagine Allison would be comfortable with Stiles knowing that much about her in bed. (But at the same time, we see Scott tell Stiles that he never wants any more info on Stiles in bed than Stiles’ vague innuendo abt wet dreams, and then he still feels entitled to tell Stiles whatever he wants about him and Allison and won’t listen when Stiles asks him to stop.) When he asks Allison to go out with someone else, there’s so much that makes me both sad and angry. She is confused and scared, and has clearly committed really hard to Scott (enough to go against everything her family wants) and he tells her to go on a date with someone else. Not just that, but to kiss someone else. To kiss Matt, specifically, whom he knows Stiles thinks is really fucking creepy (though, we need to acknowledge that no one knew Matt was stalking Allison.) And she tries to show him that he’s asking for something really fucking weird and uncomfortable. “Kiss him? You mean, like really kiss him?” And even then, he doesn’t think anything is weird about telling his girlfriend (and they are clearly v monogamous. We see how insanely possessive he is of her, losing his shit when she’s just introduced to other guys Lydia knows, after only one date that he bailed from) to kiss someone else, but not kiss them the way she kisses him. He doesn’t ask for any info about the date, doesn’t ask if Allison’s uncomfortable. He just says “Do it.” and expects her to obey. He feel entitled to controlling who she’s with and what she does, without asking her if she’s okay with it. Because I haven’t seen later seasons in a long time, I usually try to stick to the earlier stuff so I’m less likely to say something stupid, but I do remember him scaring her in her bedroom. There’s a lot about that scene to unpack, but in the case of Allison specifically, we see that he still feels entitled to touch her. They are not friends right now. She has not given any hint that she wants to get back together (except asking to talk to him in ep.1). He should not feel like it is in any way okay to touch her at all, let alone hold her still with super strength. But he does. In his mind. She’s Allison, so why wouldn’t he able to touch her?

He also feels entitled to his leadership. We need to make clear that Scott doesn’t do the leadership stuff. He just happens to be the person in the friend group who’s a werewolf. Stiles and Jackson are the ones who go and set Peter on fire after they can’t get ahold of Scott (WHO IS NOW WITH DEREK, and THEREFORE HAS HIS PHONE). (You’re telling me Scott could’ve done the howl thing at any time to find Derek, and he just left him there for a week?) (Also, yes, I know Stiles was also not involved in helping find Derek until Peter made him. I’m annoyed at him too.) What is leadership-worthy about leaving a tortured man on a grate with electric wires plugged into his side and shackles on his wrists until he agrees to help you kill his own uncle (Oh, also, I have Peter feelings and have salty thoughts about the plot of s1, if anyone’s interested)? But let’s say Scott’s leadership comes in Season 2, not at the end of S1. But when exactly does he earn it? When he tells a teenage girl he doesn’t care about the humiliation and pain that led her to taking a bite that would cure her lifelong illness and give her a friend group that she didn’t have to be afraid of or bullied by? When he called a boy who looked him in the eyes and begged for him to keep his wolf secret “Bloodthirsty”? When he dismissed Boyd’s want for the bite, which was a way for him to make friends and feel like he belonged somewhere, as ridiculous? When he damaged Boyd’s workplace in a way that would almost certainly get Boyd in trouble? (You think smashing a massive crater into the middle of the ice rink with his fist didn’t get Boyd yelled at or maybe even fired?) When Boyd asked to talk to him on the field, and Scott attacked without rhyme or reason? When he let Erica sit and seize while he fussed over Allison? “This doesn’t Feel right” really Scott? You know, I think Erica, who’s having a fucking seizure in the next aisle, would agree! Hurry the fuck up! Oh my god, I went so off track. I have more thoughts on all that though, if anyone’s curious. Anyway. Scott doesn’t do anything that actually entails being a leader. His one job in the rave, he passes off to Isaac so that he can go call Gerard, because he’s currently working with the villain behind everyone’s back. The whole thing with Allison telling her parents and the plan with Derek getting messed up? Yeah, that was Scott’s fault for not telling her. Hell, for not telling GERARD. He, what he expected her to read his mind? Scott knew Allison was telling her parents about Jackson! She said she would tell them after he broke out of the van! The entire fuckup is his fault. But he still shouts at her and blames her and says she should’ve ‘trusted’ him. He passes all the guilt onto her and leaves her there on the verge of tears. He’s entitled to her obedience and he’s entitled to shaming her and scolding her like a child when she doesn’t do what he wants.

So, yeah, I think Scott’s entitled.

Scott is: Misogynistic. This one...I’m not so sure? Scott has a lot of bad qualities, a lot of behavior that’s incredibly toxic and manipulative, but I can honestly say that I can’t think of a single time when his reasoning for not letting/not thinking someone is capable of doing something is because they’re female?

There’s a lot to be said about the manipulative way that he speaks to and interacts with his girlfriends, but that doesn’t stem from misogyny, from what I can see. It stems from everything else. From his self-obsession, from his moral code, from his honest belief that he deserves obedience and complete candor from those closest to him. He does this to everyone, not just the women. It’s just easier to see it with the women because we’re primed to look for it. (I’m making the assumption here that you are female/feminine presenting, anon, since I know that the vast majority of the fandom is, but if I’m wrong, my apologies) Wow, though I’d have more to say on this bit, but I don’t.

Scott is: Toxicly Masculine. I’m not sure where I lay on this idea. Teen Wolf does have a lot of general instances of toxic masculinity, and Scott does exhibit some of them, but again, part of those behaviors can be found in women as well.

I know that it regularly pissed me off how often they reduced men to sex machines. *Scott and Allison are making out on Allison’s bed* Scott: “I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” Allison: “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” Scott (incredulous): “Are you seriously asking me that question?”

*Stiles and Heather are talking about having sex at the party* Heather: “I mean, would you be okay with that?” Stiles (gently mocking): “Would I be okay with that? Yes, yes, I believe so.” They go out of their way to completely negate the possibility that a guy wouldn’t be into sex, even making the concept of asking for a man’s consent sound silly. This becomes even more toxic when Stiles complains about Malia leaving marks on him, hurting him during sex, and he gets teased for it. No one considers it a problem that Malia is scratching him. He’s expected to be appreciative of it/like it.

There’s the possessiveness, yes. Scott does some really fucked up, possessive things. Like freaking on Allison when Lydia introduces her to other guys, or getting angry from the sidelines just because Jackson is talking to Allison, not even flirting with her. Or running off to attack Jackson AND Allison (because there’s no proof he was only going after Jackson, and he’s only ever been able to follow allison’s scent across town, so he couldn’t have specifically been looking for Jackson) after she broke up with him. Throwing Isaac into a wall for liking Allison, even though they’ve been broken up for FOUR MONTHS. I can’t think of any more at the moment. But it’s a lot. BUT. We also see possessive behavior from Malia (yeah, she was an actual coyote for years, but she’s still a woman.) and similar amounts of aggression throughout the seasons from most of the shifters, implying that the habit is born from the werewolf/shifter thing, and not specifically Scott being toxicly masculine. (It’s still not good, but it’s not technically toxic masculinity.)

Aggression I think we can all agree is a shifter-wide phenomenon.

So, yeah, there’s instances that come across this way, and there’s also evidence that some of it is werewolf related, not scott related. I’m torn.

Anyway, again, I’ve talked way too much. If there are moments from later in the show that I’m missing that specifically prove/disprove these points, I’d love to know about it and check it out! I feel you Anon, Scott is infuriating and you’re in good company. <3

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

I just need to rant a little but it's like a good rant?? I normally do it on my fb but my parents are on my fb and I don't want them to have their feelings hurt even though they know what I'm about to say- I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in lmao.

So as y'all know I'm staying at my coworker's house again to watch his puppies and house while he is away, and that it is always a glorious win-win for us because I love being by myself and don't have my own place yet and it is so much closer to work for me, and he gets to go away on vacation and trusts that his doggos and house are well taken care of.

I went grocery shopping with the money he left me and have been cooking for myself every day/night since I started staying here. It has been so AMAZING to be able to come home, make dinner, clean up as I go, eat and do whatever I want without interruption or feeling pins and needles like someone is watching of judging me. It's not like I'm doing anything bad- I did laundry tonight ffs, lmao. I also got to listen to my music while I cooked and cleaned, watch an episode of Memories of the Alhambra while I ate dinner, and even had an hour and a half to go sit out on the porch and write for almost 2 hours before coming up for bed (it's 9pm because I am not a night owl).

I got to live alone in my own house for 3 months before I moved back when I first got divorced. Yeah, that stress sucked of packing/cleaning up his fucking mess/moving and all of that, but those 3 months of this kind of self-sufficient and independent routine is something I absolutely love about being alone.

I CANNOT wait to have my own place again. Buying groceries and cooking for myself and planning meals, all of that is so rewarding because I'm actually not out spending money on fast food or just skipping dinner altogether just so I don't have to be with my family (I love them a lot but we are very different and ALL of my anxiety comes from my family 🙃). It has proven how easy it is to be independent and to be responsible and adult in a way I can be proud of. I just want some fucking peace and quiet and by golly I love being here because I have it.

Sorry I just wanted to have a place to say even though I had to work today I had a really good day personally. That kind of good balance and productivity in writing plus having time to eat a really well balanced meal (heck yes salmon and rice and greens!) and to watch an episode of a drama. I just... idk, I feel satisfied with today, which is not common for me. Typically there are not enough hours in the day and a 2 hour drive has me exhausted and feeling like there's something I didn't have time for every day which in turn just makes me even more tired and sad.

Anyway, I hope you had time to do something you like today! Whether that be to drink or eat something you enjoy, do some art, talk to a friend or take a walk and just breathe and smile because you're here. Remember that I love you and just want you to be happy with yourself, so practice self love! 🥰💗💘💕

MUAH! 😘😚😘😚😘😚😘😚

[meta-squash]

Your ADHD procrastination post has really stroke a nerve with me. I've had the same issue for years, but thought it's normal for everyone. Since about a year or so, I've been wondering if I may have an undiagnosed ADHD along diagnosed conditions. If it's not too personal, how else ADHD manifests in you? I hope it's okay to ask. I love hearing women's stories about ADHD because they are much different than the stereotypical image of it...

It’s not too personal! (FYI I go by they/them pronouns, but I am afab; it’s all good though!) Also, this got VERY long, I’m sorry! I’m verbose and have a lot to say, apparently.

So I personally have a weird relationship with ADHD. I was diagnosed with it (or some sort of attention deficit thing) when I was in like 3rd or 4th grade. I was briefly medicated but I think I was on Ritalin (I forget) and my child body couldn’t handle it; I was a zombie during the day and then when it wore off at night I was Evil and freaked out and wanted to fight everything. So I went off it pretty quick and didn’t get medicated after, presumably because my parents thought my ADHD wasn’t bad enough.

The reason they probably thought that is because my brother has Really Bad ADHD. Like, all the classic stereotypical symptoms and characteristics to the extreme: never shuts the fuck up, really damn loud all the time, extremely high energy, can learn pretty much anything in about 5 seconds but can’t actually hang on to an interest really (now that he’s an adult he can, but not as a kid), can’t sit still or pay attention in class, doesn’t finish homework, etc etc. I was able to mask mine and function enough to get through school just riding pretty much on my humanities grades alone. It sucked a lot but I somehow did it. I had an IEP (Individual Education Plan, which is a US school thing for kids with learning disabilities and such that allows for accommodations and assistance in school) but it didn’t do much except I think give me extra time on math tests because of my dyscalculia (I was in Special Ed Math my whole grade school career). My mother is an OT but I also think that (as you said) ADHD in afab people often manifests differently than in amab people, so I guess my parents just didn’t know what to look for and that’s why I never really got the same help as my brother.

I like to jokingly categorize ADHD into two distinct but overlapping types: Fast ADHD and Mush Brain ADHD. Fast ADHD (in my opinion; this may vary from person to person) is the classic stereotype symptoms. Fast ADHD’s focus problem is too much happening all at once. Lots of thoughts and ideas flying by and you get distracted mid-thought with another thought, or your train of thought gets really crazy but is super fast so your reply to someone’s comment might not make much sense to anyone else because they weren’t privy to your brain’s journey, or you go down a focus worm-hole and sit and do One Thing all day and forget to surface for things like food/water/bathroom. Fast ADHD has more energy (though when paired with depression that usually manifests as restlessness or anxiety) and is quicker to pick up new things. Mush Brain ADHD is kind of the opposite. Thoughts take longer, or you think of something and then it almost immediately disappears (for example, scrolling a website, seeing something that you want to google, you scroll for like 5 more seconds and think “wait, I completely forget what I was going to look up”). With Mush Brain ADHD it’s harder to have conversations because thought-to-mouth time is slower, rather than (with Fast Brain) lots of stuff is going on up there. Mush Brain often feels like, well, mush and like you can’t really form thoughts very well if you want to do stuff. It’s like you’re trying to focus on thinking a thought but it just slides away. Another way I’d describe it is having thoughts but it’s like they’re on a blackboard and they’re being erased as you think them, so they end up mostly smears. Obviously, this is just based on my own experiences as a Mush Brain ADHD person while my brother has Fast Brain ADHD, so this might be different for other people.

Both have lots of overlaps: executive dysfunction (that’s the big one), insomnia, auditory processing problems, hyperfixation (which is not a bad thing! I love my hyperfixations! They’re fun!), absolutely crap organizational skills, constantly losing things, really bad perception of time, detachment from the world (like you drift off into your own daydream, or things feel distant, but not quite the same as depersonalization/dissociating),  difficulty making choices, sensory processing disorder, crap abilities with money, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and often comorbid mental illnesses like depression, OCD, anxiety, dyscalculia/dyslexia, etc.

 Oh, and a lot of ADHD characteristics also overlap with depression characteristics (and a lot of people with ADHD have comorbid depression, so it really doesn’t help).

But I can tell you about my own experiences with some of these.

The Big One which is basically what that schrodingers motivation post is about, is executive dysfunction. People also call it procrastination (it only kind of is) or inertia. Basically, executive dysfunction is where the difficulty lies in starting the task. You want to do something, but you just can’t get going to do it. You get sort of paralyzed. It even happens with things you like. For example, when I made that post, there was a short (just over 100 pgs) book I wanted to read before the end of the day. It’s a good book! It’s on my reading list! I want to read it! But I just sat on my computer and watched dumb youtube videos because that’s what I was already doing and executive dysfunction makes starting tasks really hard. This happens to me a lot. It can happen with reading a book, or getting up to go to the store and buy groceries, or making a meal, or watching a movie. The movie-watching one happens to me a lot. Basically it’s the brain struggling to switch tasks; you’re scrolling tumblr, and that’s what your brain is focused on, and it doesn’t know how to switch from doing that to doing your bio homework or folding the laundry or whatever the task may be. This happens with “bigger” or more complex tasks too, like starting an art project or starting a new book, because your brain has to figure out all the components of that task (I need these items for my project and this amount of time and I need to use them in this order) which is overwhelming, or it needs to comprehend how “big” the task is (how much time/concentration should I try and commit to in order to read this book) which is sometimes hard to gauge. Oh, also this can happen if you’re interrupted in the middle of a task, whether it’s to do another thing or just to answer a question or something; it’s hard to get back to it because it’s another kind of switching tasks. Aside from the blackboard-being-wiped-thoughts, this is my biggest ADHD problem. I can go more into how I dealt with executive dysfunction in college and now if you want!

Auditory processing issues is another thing that I deal with, although to a lesser extent than some people. It just means it’s harder for your brain to process sounds/talking. Part of this, for me, is because if someone is talking to me but there’s other noises (music, other conversations, general loudish ambiance) going on around us, my brain treats them all as equally important and I can’t focus in on the person talking. Another part for me is in my experience I seem to process conversation different from explanation. If I’m talking back and forth with someone about something and it’s not terribly important, I’m fine. If they’re trying to explain something to me, give me instructions, or read a passage of text to me, it just does not stick in my brain. If I’m helping my best friend with her grad school applications, I have to read the sentence she’s asking me check, I can’t have her read it to me. If she does read it to me, I’ve realized that I try to imagine the words as text in my head so I comprehend it better (it doesn’t always work). Auditory processing issues means that a lot of my conversations in public with people who are not my close friends (and therefore easier to pick out from the noise because familiar and/or easier to predict because familiar) are filled with a lot of me going “what?” Retail conversations with customers are slightly easier because there’s at least a mild “script” that they’ll stick to, usually.

Another one I experience is organizational problems. This one was bad enough that I actually went to a tutor-like thing to help me with it for most of grade school. Basically, I had no ability to organize tasks like doing homework or other activities, so things would get forgotten/lost/never even written in the calendar/etc. I couldn’t do projects because I couldn’t (and still kinda can’t) organize far enough into the future. I didn’t know how to break the project down across multiple days or weeks and make it manageable without totally forgetting pieces of it. I’d forget to write down homework when the teacher wrote it on the board, or I’d write it down but forget to do it. Or I’d do it but misplace it or leave it at home. My perception of time was also really crap; I couldn’t read an analogue clock until I was in maybe 6th grade? Even now I sometimes have trouble. It was hard to know how much time I had to allot to certain projects because I didn’t really have good perception of how hours fit in the day and how much time until homework is due and stuff. (Which meant lots of finishing things in class minutes before I had to turn it in and stuff. Once in uni I completely forgot to do an Entire Essay; luckily it wasn’t a class I needed to graduate.)

Along with this is losing EVERYTHING. I misplace things CONSTANTLY. I’ll put something that’s in my hand down to get a cup of tea or something, or even just to like, move a blanket, and I’ll forget where I put it. I’ve solved this problem with Important Things (wallet, phone, and keys always go next to my bed, for example, and rarely move from there if they’re not in my pocket. All important papers go in my Important Papers Folder as soon as soon as possible) but I lose regular stuff all the time. I’ll be working on an art project, I’ll put my glue stick down to reach for a piece of paper, and lose the glue stick in the time it takes to pull the paper towards me. The other day I was brushing my teeth and I put the toothbrush cover down to say hello to the cat and forgot where I had put it down once I had followed her to the next room. When things have a Place it’s easier, but I’ve learned to live with going “Where the FUCK did I put this thing? I had it a second ago!” at least once a day.

The “Mush” in “Mush Brain” is another big one for me. I don’t know if this has, like, a name? Or anything? It’s just what I call it. The best description for it would either be that blackboard description from above, or like you’re struggling to get to a thought through a lot of mud. Oftentimes I’ll have a sort of concept of a thought but not something full, and I know it’s there, but I can’t get to it. This is really apparent when I’m trying to remember a synonym for something, or trying to elaborate on certain concepts or pull ideas from texts. It doesn’t happen all the time. I was an English lit major in uni, so this affected me a lot back then. It’s sort of a similar feeling to reading the same sentence over and over and not registering the words, except it’s in your own brain instead. This kind of goes away for me when I’m writing/typing. Writing this out is easy (minus me forgetting the word executive dysfunction for like 5 minutes) but if you were asking me to explain this aloud I would struggle, probably. This is probably because I can stare at what I’ve written to see what’s missing or edit my thoughts, which I can’t do while I’m speaking, and also can’t do to other people’s interactions with me.

Just a general inability to focus is also one I struggle with. It goes with the “mush brain” to an extent but I think it’s different. It’s more like my brain doesn’t want to, well, focus on anything. If I’m just messing around on my laptop, that means I end up clicking back and forth between tabs endlessly because nothing is holding my interest. If I’m trying to read or do anything “intellectual” or “academic” it means I just can’t get myself to read or I can’t keep my thoughts on what I’m trying to write no matter how hard I try. Nothing holds my interest for long enough, it’s like brain restlessness. I try and concentrate on doing something, watching something, reading something, and my brain just slides away from it.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria is something I experience on a more minor level. It’s something that also overlaps with anxiety and depression. Basically, it’s a really intense emotional reaction to (perceived) rejection. For example, if my best friend says something to me with a certain tone or gets mad at me for doing something minor, my brain just goes “She hates you! She doesn’t want to be friends with you! You should isolate in your room and never speak to anyone again because you’re so annoying and terrible!” I know that’s mostly incorrect (although I also know I’m quite annoying and that’s another ADHD characteristic; knowing you’re annoying someone in some way and having no idea how to stop) so I can fight it but sometimes I do end up holing up in my room for a little bit. Things like criticism (whether towards you or towards, like, an essay or something) can also trigger this reaction. So can things like having an expectation that you’ll be good at something, and then failing at it or just not being as good as you’d hoped. (I developed a sort of defense mechanism for this one of never expecting to be good at things and never expect higher than a C in a class.) It also can come with a sense of feeling inferior around people doing similar things. It happens to me a lot here on tumblr, actually, because I’ll write a meta about something, and then read someone else’s good meta on the same thing, and feel like I’m an idiot and they’re really smart and nothing that I wrote was insightful or good. It happened to me in uni a lot too. It also happens to me kind of...secondhand, now. What I mean is, my best friend/roommate is extremely smart. Like genuinely one of the smartest people I know and an incredible thinker, straight A’s at uni in a degree she created, etc. She still gets imposter syndrome herself and feels like she’s not smart, and when she says she’s not smart, I feel bad for her but I also feel really terrible about myself, because if she thinks she’s stupid, then what am I? But again, it’s an overreaction to perceived rejection. It still sucks though.

There’s some evidence that ADHD comes with a whacked out sleep schedule. And not just insomnia (although that too, I know this because it’s 7am and I haven’t slept yet lol), but also Delayed Sleep Phase Disorder. Which basically means that most people’s circadian rhythms start slowing down so they’ll go to sleep around like 11pm-1am-ish, give or take. ADHD circadian rhythms are shifted so often we start getting tired around 3am or even 4 or 5am. (This is different from insomnia, btw, with DSPD you can fall asleep fairly easily, you just get tired later in the night; with insomnia it’s an inability to or difficulty in falling asleep quickly.) I always thought I’d just gotten my dad’s night owl genes, but it’s more likely that it’s the ADHD. I also have at least mild insomnia and it takes me a million years to fall asleep a lot of the time.

Hyperfixations are the Fun part of having ADHD (in my opinion). They can get in the way sometimes but they’re also really comforting and nice. Hyperfixations happen when you find an interest and it’s basically all you want to think or talk about, and you relate to the world through it, and you want to learn everything about it. It’s also a characteristic of autism. I’m not autistic, so I don’t know if there are major differences between ADHD hyperfixation experiences and autism ones. Anyway, often hyperfixations stick with you for a good amount of time, depending on the strength, and then you might find something else to focus on. Some of my hyperfixations have lasted a few months, some up to 4 years. A lot of ADHD people rotate through the same or similar ones. For example, a hyperfixation I had back in 2011-2014/15ish was Les Miserables. I then found a different thing to hyperfixate on. This past year I have returned to Les Mis. Hyperfixations are usually pretty cool, because it’s usually something you really like and enjoy learning about or doing and it’s kind of like the thing your brain would rather be doing/focusing on.

Personally, I’ve lived so long without ADHD medication that I’m fairly functional without it just due to coming up with personal adaptations and stuff. The thing that I have the hardest time with/that upsets me the most is the Mush Brain part, which also gets worse when my depression gets worse. I really would love to have clear, quick thoughts whenever I want. It’s frustrating to hold a conversation or try to write creatively and quickly when it takes forever for thoughts to fully crystallize in my brain and then come out my mouth or fingers. Right now I don’t have very good health insurance (all blame to covid layoffs) so I can’t really do the meds thing but I often wish I could. My ADHD is definitely not as intense or severe as some people’s. I have friends, and also my brother, who struggle a lot more than I do, and with different things

Holy hell this was so long. Feel free to message me if you have any questions! Or if you want me to elaborate on some of the things I do to deal with stuff.

[blaiddydbrokeit]

Rant (you don’t have to read this)

TW CW Abuse mentions

I’m so goddang tired. This quarantine is getting so much worse.

I’m not allowed to work, and I’m not getting any allowance from my parents to sustain me through Japanese lessons and going back to school once a week for consultations and the such. I’ve been living off frozen food you can just heat and eat for a few months now, and even my grocery coupons have been exhausted entirely.

My mom has been forcing me to do her office work for her for free, even during my class time (using excuses like “oh my english isn’t good” or “well you got a free adobe license from your school so you might as well do it for me so I don’t have to buy a license myself”)

My mom also does bullshit things like asking me to order or buy her takeouts, and refuses to pay me anything. Even when I beg to be let out to even restock on personal supplies like batteries or stationary (I had literally 4 pens and 3 ran out of ink about 3 days apart from each other and the fourth was dying) or to eat out with my friends, she insists that “I’ll just have to make $5 work” as though the nearest shopping mall doesn’t sell a bowl of fucking noodles at the food court for fucking $6.

Lately she’s been making me cook her breakfast (resulting in me being almost late for class), having me put together a simple lunch on my own on most days, and she still has the fucking audacity to tell me “well your pay for doing my work is your meals”

I have to fucking write her emails for her, I have to do my classwork and everything while all she sees is “oh Sen is lazy and does nothing all day” and accuses me of NOT submitting my work (despite hard proof that I did keep up with my schoolwork), constantly misgendering me, accusing me of skipping my antidepressants even though she literally checks everyday if I’ve taken it. I’m tired. I’m anxious. I can’t even sleep at night because I get so hungry I’m literally nauseous and wincing in pain in bed. When I was sick she wouldn’t let me see a doctor because “doctors don’t heal you, you don’t take the medicine enough” like... hello I want the doctors to tell me what the hell is wrong with my health so I can correct that and minimize the medications I’m on for the long term????

Just today she literally said “you had canned soup and 2 hashbrowns you don’t need to eat dinner” and when I asked for $30 just to have a night out with my friends from school she literally said “well why can’t you just go out and spend nothing for once”. She constantly rants and rages over me not bringing in the laundry (especially two days ago, where she threw a fucking tantrum over that because I told her I had a pulled muscle in my back, but she assumed I was lying.)

I’m hungry. I’m exhausted, I’m sick. I don’t want to live like this. I’ve nearly completely secluded myself from the world outside my bedroom because I can’t bring myself to get up because if I step out there I will be asked to do things.

Even the 90F weather is literally sweater weather to me because I’m that sick. I’ve missed a lot of classes because of my still deteriorating health. My mom literally cooks mostly carbs, and says that “meat will make me fat” but  Does she have any idea how weak I am from literally living on nearly nothing but carbs??? Like sure, give me all the white rice and cabbage. Give me clear soup. But you don’t have the right to say I eat too much and too often if you give me a skewed diet like this.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp?, Part 17. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you.

A/N: We will be wrapping up soon, folks. Let's have two last chapters and were done!

Warnings: Reader being a paranoid silly dummydumdum and angst and angst and fluffiness. I have u guys, alright?

Word count: 3.1 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve  Part thirteen  Part fourteen  Part fifteen  Part sixteen

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

Four months after the last chapter:

You sat on the toilette for what seemed like forever, in a complete shock, gasping for your dear breath. You felt as you were crying, sobbing, being a hot pile of mess. Pete was sitting next to your small cabin on the ground, hugging his knees, listening to your heartbreaking sobs.

You and Steve were together just for a few months, four and a half to be exact and you couldn't think of anything more perfect. When he was at home, he was literally the sweetest guy around.

He knew his way around with cooking and preparing just the best baths, nobody was able to make the bed like him. Every time he cleaned up the place, you couldn't recognize it. And you didn't know if he used some forties tricks when it was his turn doing the laundry, but it smelled so good every damn time he hung the clothes.

It was more than fair to say that Steve Rogers was living at your place basically. He moved his clothes there, so you could basically wear them as yours, he was buying the groceries and taking care of the flat.

Your relationship grew stronger and stronger, but with that, you needed to count on the paparazzi sniffing around your private life. They exposed you and Steve many times and you only giggled when you read the articles out loud to Steve when he was in the shower. Sometimes you were reading it with Peter when Steve was out of touch.

You were making fun of that, but Steve got fed up after a while. He was under the public microscope for a long time at that moment when your relationship started, so he talked with Tony (IT WAS TONY STARK HIMSELF, YOU LITERALLY FREAKED OUT WHEN STEVE SAID THAT IT'S JUST 'TONY') and Tony made some steps to keep the newest Avenger lovebirds out of the public eye.

Everything was awesome... Until that one evening.

How to put it right? Let's just say it how it was - you both absolutely loved sex, let's be honest here. Steve adored and loved your soul, but your body was just gorgeous for him. He was a boy from the eighties who didn't have a proper lovemaking session for seventy years, maybe even never.

So, naturally, when Steve got home after three weeks lasting mission, you took a day off at work, just to be with him at home all day, basically not leaving bed all day. That was maybe the day you just got... Pregnant.

Yep. That's right. A baby was inside growing inside of you and your heart was beating loudly at that moment. What the hell should you do? What were your options? Your brain couldn't exactly think when you were a crying mess sitting on the toilette.

Steve told you one time that the family man who lived in the forties died inside of him when he got out of the ice.

So you were worried that Steve will not take it too happily, even though you knew that you were seriously paranoid.

"Is everything ok out there? You're freaking me the hell out." - Pete knocked on your cab lightly, which actually reminded you of his presence. You weakly pulled yourself together, dried your cheeks and stood up. When you opened the cab, he almost jumped right into your face. - "You're not pregnant, right? That's why you're crying."

You didn't answer, just gave him the test and leaned your hands to the sink to watch your face in the mirror.

A mom. You'll be a mom. Was that even real? Were you even ready for that? You had a small bean inside of you. Your mind was splitting into two different people - one of them was optimistic and the second one was depressed like hell.

A strange warm feeling surrounded your heart and you smiled at yourself. Hormones were making you a bit crazy, like riding on a rollercoaster. The fear of telling him was sitting on the back of your head all the time, but for a moment you focused on happiness.

"You'll be a mom." - Peter whispered. He was in shock, but you could feel that happiness is written down in his voice. - "That's great! I will be his or her uncle and we will be best pals... Y/N, what's wrong?" - Peter asked worriedly and hugged you, nursing you slowly. His lips kissed your temple gently and his fingers smoothed your hair.

"I'm just so fucking afraid, Peter. What if he tells me that he doesn't want it anymore? He's at least a hundred years old. He doesn't have a much stable life, his job is dangerous and... I don't know." - You cried out to his shoulder and hugged him even tighter. You had a grip of a tiger or a bear that surprised Peter.

"Are you even listening to what you're saying, you weirdo?" - Peter took your face to his palms and smiled at you. A fifteen-year-old boy was nursing you because you were afraid of a baby. Your own baby. You were going to be a mom. You were acting like Ana in Fifty shades said, you had a little bean somewhere out there.

"Steve will be out of his mind when he's gonna find out. That man was designed by God to be a dad. Whether it will be a boy or a girl, you will be great parents. And May and I will be the best uncle and aunt duo." - He kissed your temple again, but someone interrupted you. It was Deena. She screamed, put her hand on her heart and closed the door with a loud bang. Then she opened the door again, looking at you, crying your eyes out and Peter, with his arms, circling around your shoulders. You both watched her, Peter with a big smile and you with your eyes hurting a bit.

"Okay, you two. I know you have a strangely friendly relationship, but this is fucking wild. What the fuck is going on?" - She just strode there, putting her hands on her hips, frowning at you and Pete. She had a primadonna attitude until Pete turned towards her with a pregnancy test in his palms.

"Oh my fucking God. You cheated on Steve with... Don't you fucking tell me." - She tried to tell a joke, but a small smile appeared on her lips. Her face was gentle all of a sudden as she watched the positive stick in her hands. You would never say that Deena could be a family type, but that situation totally wrecked her family-cold facade. She looked at you with a graceful smile, and ten hugged you. Then, she put her palm on your belly, slowly caressing you with his fingers.

"Hey, little baby. We know about you, honey. Oh my god, Y/N." - Deena looked into your face with a loving gaze. - "I think I'm gonna cry. Jesus fucking Christ, what have you done to me?" - She smiled and winked at you to get the tears away. - "Steve will be so happy. And Buck will probably cry. He's a sensitive pussy these days."

"But how the fuck am I supposed to tell him?" - You stared to the side, leaning your ass to the sink, watching both of them. - "I'm so afraid now."

"What are you thinking about, dummy?" - Deena looked at you with an ironic face, laughing. - "Just tell him. He's an honest man and he will most probably explode with euphoria. You know what? I have an idea." - Her palms held your shoulders, so she couldn't look away from her.

"You'll try it on Bucky, the whole telling thingy. Hell. He'll order you his fucking plum diet. Just be cool, you'll tell him, test it out. Buck will not tell Steve a single word if you ask him to. And now, get the fuck out. Both of you. I need to pee." - She smiled and kissed your cheek in a motherly mode. You could feel that she's so proud at that moment, so proud she couldn't even express it.

"Hey. Heads up. You'll do great. Wow. A baby. That's wonderful. In a few months, you'll be so big. Like, I mean, a big tummy, there will be a baby and I can chat with them." - Peter was so excited that it made you smile. Yeah. You'll be big. You'll be huge. Like a balloon. And you'll fart a lot. But that will be alright. Cause there will be a baby inside of you. - "You can't even guess how proud and happy I am."

"Yeah. Stop grinning so much, dummy. The whole office doesn't need to know that I'm pregnant the first day I found out that. So shush." - You shoved the little stick into the back pocket of your jeans and went there with a big smile.

Bucky was already in the office, leaning next to Val's shoulder and watched some video. Suzie watched you with her silent stare, feeling that something's off about you. But she just nodded and didn't ask. You loved that Suzie was the silent friend. She didn't ask unnecessary questions at all. But just as Suzie knew instantly that something happened, May could feel it in the air.

"Okay, you moron. Don't furrow at me like that and just tell me. What's wrong?" - May leaned her ass into your desk and looked at you with her motherly state. She had warm eyes and a kind smile, soothing the back of your head. But you just wiggled your head and decided on not telling her, not just now.

"You're like another child to me, baby. Just as protesting as Peter at the start of his puberty." - She leaned down and kissed your forehead. - "Remember that whatever happened, it's going to be good. When you feel like telling me, you'll. I larb you so, so much." - And then she left. You looked at Peter with a surprised face and he shrugged his shoulders. You were so glad that you may don't turn her NCIA attitude on just left it be. But then you saw Deena, looking like a little devil, leading Bucky to you. He looked really scared and surprised.

"Okay. She told me that you have something to tell me. And I'm not going to lie, I am a bit afraid what the hell is going on because she was deadly serious." - Buck said in a guessing tone. Deena frowned at him.

"Who the hell is some 'she', Mr. Burnes?" - She put her arms on her chest. Deena was just joking, but her face was deadly serious.

"She is my lovely girlfriend who is the best in the whole world, miss Green." - Bucky smiled, leaned onto her body, kissing her from her cheeks down to her collar bones, making her laugh. - "But let's talk, miss Y/L/N, soon to be Mrs. Rogers." - Bucky told you and take you away from the rest of your coworkers.

"That's not too far fetched." - You whispered back and Buck opened up his mouth with a surprise before turning his expression to a big smile.

"So that little jackass wants to marry you? I know that he's really in love with you, but this is a pleasant surprise." - He leaned into one of the windows, watching you nervously biting his lower lip.

"No! No! We're not having a wedding, Jesus. We're only for not even five months, Buck. You're crazy. I need to tell you something different." - You leaned next to him and put your head on Buck's shoulder.

"Okay. What's it, baby girl? You can tell me anything. I'm your and Steve's friend. I'm curious about what has happened." - Buck hugged your shoulder with his arms, bringing you closer to him. He was just the greatest friend, he made you feel safe and fooled to tell him almost everything. So you felt as you relaxed when the little, quiet sentence just got out of your lips.

"We're going to have a baby." - You whispered and looked at Buck with an innocent look.

"Doll, are you serious?" - He asked silently and his face leaned down to look at you.

"Yeah, my magical assistant Peter helped me to do three to four tests this morning. All of them were positive." - You smiled at Buck. His reaction nicely surprised you and made you feel sure about having a baby with Steve. Your emotions and hormones told you that it's going to be all right. Buck was a bit tougher Steve from what you could tell. And his reaction was like someone has lit up a fire inside of him, his smile felt warmer and lighter, his eyes shined with excitement. - "But I'm a bit worried about Steve's reaction. Like... He told he ain't that family man anymore. So..."

"Okay. So I'm an experiment. You think he's going to freak out, or that he'll be rude or he's going to pack his things and leave?" - Buck asked you honestly, he exhaled out loud, ending it with a giggle in the end. - "My pal would never. He'll be out of his mind, I swear in the name of God. It will make him love you even more. Hey. Let me tell the thing like this: every man, especially the two of us, want to have some small princess or a tough small pirate. It's a dream we think we can't reach. But you're the example of fulfilling that dream."

"What dream are you two talking about? Can I join the discussion?" - Steve's voice freaked the living hell out of you. Bucky felt how your body began to tremble, so he smoothed your back calmly. Steve took you to his arms and hugged you, kissing you tenderly on your lips, making you smile. - "You've been crying, sweetheart. Something's wrong?" He held you in his hug and you hugged him even tighter. Steve could sense that something's up, he could tell every time you cried or felt down. It was just like his sixth sense.

"I brought you some tea for your sickness, I heard that it helps a lot. Also, I have some food from the restaurant you like, some tomato soup and some lasagna." - He showed you a travel teacup and a bag in his hand, smiling excitedly. - "You told me that you will not have enough time today, so I took you something good to eat, doll. I will not let my girl starve, will I?" - Steve played with your hair and kissed the back of your head. Bucky disappeared in the meantime, leaving you two in a loving bliss moment.

"What would I do without my big guy, right?" - You tiptoed and kissed his lips. But then sickness took hold on your belly as you began to realize that you should tell him before you'll lose your courage completely. He wasn't blind, so he could do the math when the time came, seeing your growing belly and tired attitude. - "We, like you and me, have to talk. Right now and right here otherwise I would not tell you." - You left his side and left the bag on the floor under the window.

"Doll. Before you'll tell me anything else, just let me tell you that I love you and if you want to leave me..." - Steve played with your fingers and he looked like he's about to cry. You immediately took his face to your palm, shushing him with a passionate kiss.

"Shut up for a minute, you dummy. This is stressing me the hell out and I really want you to know." - You smoothed his wide shoulders with your nails and you still held him close. - "Especially when you and I need to go through all of this together."

"Is something wrong? Are you sick? What happened?" - Steve was smoothing your face with his thumbs gently and lovingly and his face was really looking like a lovesick puppy. Before he could guess any other option, you burst out.

"I'm pregnant. I'm... Pregnant." - You said twice, slowly and more scared for the second time. You couldn't even believe what you were telling him. Your face was pale and scared, you looked tired and sick. Steve just froze in one place, his mouth shut and his gaze was piercing through you, his arms around your shoulder.

"And are you... Sure? Like deadly sure? Seriously?" - Steve asked in a low, emotionless voice. You trembled in his arms, beginning to cry and your lower lip curled. You slowly nodded and first tear left your eye, falling down on your face.

"So... A baby. Wow." - Steve said with his expression slowly lighting up. - "We are going to have a baby." - All of a sudden, why you still cried, he was crying too with a sweet smile on his lips. He took you, carefully, at your waist, hugged you and carefully twirled you around. - "Y/N, I'm doing to be a dad." - He exclaimed with the happiness of a little boy.

"So you're not angry with me?" - You beeped quietly and looked at your boyfriend crying and you started to cry even more after that. You both stood there and cried like little children, hugging each other.

"Are you serious? Y/N, this is most probably the best day of my whole life." - Steve dropped on his knees, put his palms on your tummy and kissed it with a loving expression. Your fingers ran through his hair as he spoke directly to the baby. The tone of his voice was sweet and loving, he was mumbling and he held your waist in his hands.

How could you be so terrified? Why were you so paranoid? Steve took it the best way he actually could, he really was out of his mind completely, shining like a star. You loved to see him like that. A proud daddy-to-be. You could feel that he's happy, happier than ever before.

"Isn't it a bit too soon for you?" - You whispered after a long, sweet make our session. Steve was passionate and he was showing you all the love he had inside.

"It could happen a bit later, that's true. I'm amazed and surprised because this is a serious miracle. But I know you, you're my best girl, my loving and supporting girlfriend no matter what I decide to do. So we have two things on our list now, what do you say?" - He hummed in a pleased tone, being all-loving and caring for you.

"Two things?" - You opened your mouth, being surprised.

"First things first, we will prepare our home for this little angel." - He whispered and stole another kiss from you. - "But we can't bring him to a world where their parents aren't married. And I'm serious about that."