#and the longer you wait on a medical problem thinking 'if it was really bad. i'd KNOW'

[july-19th-club]

like i do genuinely sort of hate being such a hypochondriac it's not fun to constantly be thinking about the absolute worst case scenario for any specific part of my body and how i'd know if it was happening but . it's worse not thinking about it. if i didn't think about how i'd know if my back pain was a kidney stone or my headache was chronic migraine or my fuckin. bug bite was infected . then i wouldn't know what to do . if those scenarios were to happen/were actually happening. i feel like healthy people have this idea that if something's wrong 'you'll know' but in my experience this has not been the case, and medical language is so vague that i have frequently described stuff going on with me in words that weren't the usual ones and because i didn't use the typical language there was a communication barrier. so i have to be obsessive about my body i have to . ever since covid and my rib thing i've had to, because i know that if it's not my first priority at all times i'll suffer, but people hate this after a while even if all of your questions are real and legitimate questions that you're asking for the purpose of knowing when something is wrong

[iateyourparents]

Not sure if you write for Harry Styles but what if r met h in high school and they were dating but after graduation they parted they ways and yhen few years later she meets him and they start again and she gets to know that some of his songs are abt her?

I love your writing for S&C!!!

Adore you | h.s.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

summary: you run into harry after years of not seeing him.

warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)

an: so it’s my first time writing for harry but i absolutely adore this man with my whole heart so i gladly wrote this! thank you sm, hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest :)

If someone told you that your ex would end up as a worldwide famous singer, you would believe them in a second.

Harry always had a thing for singing and he was really good at it so when he told you he wanted to audition for xfactor you were all in to support him.

He succeeded, like you knew he would, and was put in a band with four other boys. That was when your ways parted. He started writing songs, making album and had few little gigs to make their band known. And you wanted to focus on school, on your future.

As much as you both wanted to make it and keep your relationship alive, you knew it would be naive to hope for it. He was about to be famous and travel the world and you wanted to study and make a mark with your name in the world of medicine.

So you parted your ways and you haven’t heard of Harry or One Direction for some time, until two years later when they started becoming one of the bigger bands in the music industry.

He achieved it. You always knew he was made to be someone. He deserved to be someone.

He was kind, selfless and practically wore his heart on his sleeve. If someone was a good celebrity material, it was him.

Sometimes, you found yourself following his career, cheering on him and wishing him all the best.

Years were passing, One Direction went on a break that was lasting longer than they promised and all of the boys started to make their own history.

Harry just released his third own album and you couldn’t be happier for him, although you didn’t follow him as much as you used to.

Actually, you practically didn’t follow him at all. All you knew was what you heard on radio on your way from work to home.

You were achieving your goals too. You became a doctor, a good one, known in whole UK. You were young but you already did more than some older doctors.

Your name was well known in medical world and you couldn’t be happier with how your career worked out.

Although, sometimes you wished you chose some other life path.

For example, you wished it right now while looking at two teenagers sitting on a hospital bed. They were glued to themselves and it wouldn’t be a problem if they weren’t glued with an actual glue. To make it worse, it was really old glue and it was causing health problems for both of the teenagers and one was about to pass out from all the coughing.

“Alright, we need to make sure that all their organs are okay, Marcus’ father said he saw them eating that glue.” you grimaced “Run all the tests and draw blood from both of them.” you ordered your interns who quickly went to patients.

Few hours later you were finally able to go home and you couldn’t wait to finally take a warm shower and change scrubs to comfortable pajama.

But first, you had to go grocery shopping. You were thinking about going home first to change but you knew if you get to home you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed again.

So now you were in the grocery store looking at all the cereal searching for your favorite ones. You finally noticed them but they were in completely other place. Usually, they were on a second shelf and now they were all the way up on the highest one. One that was too high for you to reach.

But you tried anyway. And you failed.

You heard a deep chuckle behind you and then a male voice “Need any help?”

You turned around with bright smile “Yes, please.”

Man, who looked weirdly familiar to you, reached a cereal cartoon without any struggle and handed it to you with a smile.

“Here.” you took the cartoon while he was looking at your face “Do I know you? You look familiar.” he stated and you searched his face to see something that would give you a clue who he was.

Then it hit you.

“Harry?” the man nodded “Oh my god, you changed so much.”

Man furrowed his brows and suddenly his eyes widened “Y/n?” you nodded with small smile “Oh god, it’s good to see you.” he hugged you.

“Visiting family?” you asked and he nodded “How’s famous life treating you?”

“Good, I just published my newest album.” he looked proud of himself and it was really adorable.

“I heard.” you nodded with a smile “Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Did you hear any songs?” he asked unsure.

“No, sorry. I don’t really have time for music. My life last few days looked like sleep, work, sleep, work, shopping, sleep and work.” you laughed and he smiled with amusement.

“Sounds like you, always so ambitious.” he looked over you “So how’s being a well known surgeon? I heard amazing things about you.”

“It’s… certainly something.” you nodded slowly “I love my work but some things I see… Damn.” you shrugged and he laughed.

“I’m happy you’re good, I thought of you few days ago.” Harry stated and you raised your brow.

“Mr. Famous thought about me? How flattering.” you teased and he chuckled “I have to go home, my bed is calling but we should meet someday when you will be in town.” you offered and he nodded vigorously with a grin.

“I’m staying for a few weeks at my mum’s, we can arrange something. We definitely should catch up. Here, give me your number.” he handed you his phone and you added your contact.

“Well then, see you around Harry. And thanks for your help.” you flashed him with a smile which he returned and you went to a cash station.

Next day you got a text from an unknown number which turned out to be Harry’s number. He asked when you had time to meet.

Finally, you both decided to meet on a Saturday. To make it funnier, Harry offered to meet at the coffee shop that you often visited while being together.

On a Saturday you felt nervous. You didn’t see him for a long time and you weren’t sure how it would turn out, if you even will be able to maintain an interesing conversation without it being awkward.

But here you were, sitting in front of Harry, drinking tea and eating delicious muffins while talking and laughing about old times.

“I never thought that the audition would turn out this well.” he admitted with small smile.

“I knew it would.” you stated “You’re too good to not be noticed, although your hey sister was terrible.” you snickered and he smiled amused.

“I was nervous!” he huffed “If it wasn’t for you I’m not sure if I would actually get on that stage, you were my lucky charm.”

You looked at him with a touched smile “I was cheering for you even when we weren’t talking anymore.” you admitted “I always knew you would be someone important and look at you, you’re saving teenagers’ lives and make great music.”

You could see faint blush on his cheeks and the bashful smile was just cute.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t be where I’m if not your cheering.” he chuckled “I only regret that our ways parted. I wish we maintained contact. I missed you.”

“I missed you too Harry.” you said hoping you didn’t blush “But at least we’re here now and it feels good.”

“Yeah it does.” he agreed with a smile that made your heart race. You knew that smile, he was sending it your ways on daily basis when you were together. It was this cute smirk with dreamy eyes and it just made you feel weak in knees.

Apparently some things never change, because it made you feel just the same as years ago.

And you’re not sure how it happened but next morning you woke up with Harry’s bare chest as your pillow.

But you weren’t complaining.

“Seriously?” you laughed while making breakfast with Harry. He was talking about the time when he was in One Direction “I always thought that it was just a song about good song.”

“Well, most of ours song had hidden dirty meaning.” he laughed too.

“What about your songs? Any dirty meanings?” you teased and he blushed.

Your morning together turned to spending whole day together.

“You can stay for the night.” you offered when he said he should get going.

“I don’t want to bother you.” he giggled.

“You’re not bothering, I like having you here.” you admitted and you were praying to not blush when he smirked at you.

“Good to know. I will gladly stay if you’re sure.” he said “But let me know if you will be sick of me.”

“That wouldn’t be possible.” you rolled your eyes hitting his chest with your hand which he catched and squeezed in his bigger one “You’re the sweetest person alive, you would have to kill my dog to make me hate you.”

“Sure.” now he rolled his eyes “You have a dog?”

“No.” you pouted “I wish but I’m rarely home and I wouldn’t want to leave a dog alone.” you explained and he nodded in understanding “What about you? Any pets?”

“Not really, I’m also rarely home when touring.” he shrugged.

And somehow this conversation turned into talking about his songs.

“And which ones do you like?” he looked at you with a small smile. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but in last few days his songs were on repeat so you wouldn’t be in dark when he would be talking about his career.

“Hm, I really like Carolina and little freak.” you stated after a moment of thinking. You noticed how Harry moved weirdly after your words “Is there something wrong?” you asked worriedly.

“No no.” he assured you “What do you like about Carolina?” he tilted his head looking curiously at you while still holding your hand.

“I don’t know, I just like it.” you shrugged “Why are you asking?”

“You didn’t notice, did you?” he laughed.

“Notice what?” you smiled with small confusion.

“Carolina, Adore you, Only Angel, Woman?” he furrowed his eyes.

“What about them?”

“God, woman. They are about you.” he huffed with amusement and your eyes widened.

“What?” you were sure you were a blushing mess at the moment.

“Carolina? It’s literally your description, you moved because your grandmother offered you and your parents to, you always had books with you and liked to compare life to books.” he explained “Oh, and you have cousins in Carolina!”

All he said was true and you actually realized it in fact was actually a song about you.

“Why would you wrote about me?” you asked quietly playing with his fingers.

“I was so in love with you. My first ever song that I writed was about you.” he admitted “Only angel. I changed it a bit before releasing it because I was teenager while I wrote and it was a slight disaster but it turned out great.”

“I’m not sure what to say.” you chuckled “Adore you is about me?”

“Yeah, I would go through hell for you.” he stated and you noticed that he didn’t use past tense.

“So am I so kind of inspiration for you?” you teased but he answered completely seriously.

“Yeah, you are big inspiration. Most of my songs have something about you in them even if they aren’t exactly about you.” he admitted bashfully “I was completely head over heels for you. And I think I still adore you.”

And if you were his inspiration for next lovely album that he made as a gift for you for your first anniversary, that’s just a bonus.

[goodlucktai]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, could I ask for some rise!Raph and Mikey? Their brotherly relationship really intrigues me and I wish we could have seen more of it develop in the show, and I just know you would do it justice :D thanks

set pre-movie, canon divergence, in which i simply toss mikey at a problem to fix it

read on ao3

x

This same time last year, Mikey couldn’t wait to grow up. 

Because sometimes—only sometimes—he felt like he had something he needed to prove. 

It’s not that his family doesn’t believe in him. If anything, he thinks, from the lofty heights and newly acquired maturity of fourteen years old, they believe in him a little too much. Whatever he says he can accomplish, they give him room for—and if he can’t pull it off, they help him out and still afford him full credit. Mikey knows it’s just another way they spoil him, but it’s the least egregious manner in which they do, so he lets it slide. 

And it’s definitely not that he ever feels left out or left behind. Michelangelo and his brothers operate on a fulcrum that turns four ways as naturally as the needle on a compass, guided by gravity and the poles of the planet and something even more intrinsic and fundamental than all of that. 

Even when they’re fighting, when Mikey can’t be in the same room as Donnie without the Cain Instinct taking over or Leo goes full Mean Girls and has the cattiest-sounding Facetime with April about whichever one of them ticked him off, purposefully taking his call in the living room where they all could hear it, none of that ever lasts longer than a day. They burn bright and loud and hot, but they burn fast. Gravity keeps everything together. 

Come on, gravity, Mikey thinks, holding onto his temper very carefully. Do your thing. 

“I am not,” he says, for the billionth time in his life, “a baby.”

Raph looks a little nervous, which almost makes Mikey feel bad. But then he says, “That ankle’s sprained, big man. You shouldn’t walk on it.”

“Leo wrapped it up super well! I’ll be careful!” 

Their resident medic is smiling a little to himself, packing everything up again to his own meticulous organizational standards. (Only Donnie truly has his system figured out, but Mikey thinks that’s because they share a brain or soul or whatever.) It’s the full kit, too, Leo didn’t bother with the emergency supplies in his belt-bag and instead opened up a little dinner-plate-sized portal that he reached through to ransack their infirmary back home. 

Mikey wants to roll around on his shell in annoyance. It wasn’t even that bad!

“Sprains can be worse than breaks sometimes,” Leo remarks neutrally, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Would you rather be careful now or laid up for a couple extra weeks?”

Raph seems grateful for the input, even though he doesn’t look at Leo and Leo doesn’t look up from his kit.

Ugh. “Ugh!” Mikey says out loud for good measure. “Then I can just walk on my hands!” 

It summons a wider smile from Leonardo, one of those crooked, pleasantly surprised ones. He’s so clever and thinks in circles around everyone else—not to be mean or tricky, just because his brain is as fast as Donnie’s and eats up seconds like a racecar around a Formula 1 track—that it’s fun to catch him off-guard with something totally out-of-pocket and watch that smile show up. 

“The whole way back to the Tank?” Raph says skeptically.

“You bet!” Mikey has warmed up to the idea now.

“This I have to see,” Donnie says, putting his phone away and folding his arms on Leo’s carapace. 

“I’ll have you know, Donald, that I walked on my hands for like two days once.” 

“Believe me, Michael, I remember. I was there.”

“You tried to make spaghetti for dinner with your feet,” Leo pipes up, and giggles when Donnie makes a gagging noise above him. He’s done packing his stuff up but he’s still sitting, probably because he likes the weight of his lazy twin leaning against his shell. 

Sensing no further help from that quarter, Raph says, “Mike—” but Mikey has already capitalized on his moment of indecision and flipped forward into a handstand. His foot actually does hurt a lot and his center of balance is a tiny bit skewed, but honestly he could do this for hours. He books it for the edge of the roof, putting something like a skip into his step just to make the twins laugh. There’s a shuffle and a cut-off noise that means the big worry-wart didn’t like it but puh-lease. Mikey’s safe as houses. 

It’s when he clambers up onto the parapet that he remembers the fire escape on this building is the kind with the rolling ladders, not the stairs. 

No one says anything behind him, letting him come to his own conclusion. Mikey would appreciate that except they’re only doing it because he’s the baby and they don’t want to upset him. 

Spinning around, the concrete scraping against his palms, Mikey aims an explosively unhappy frown at all three of them from upside-down.

“I could have done it,” he insists. 

“Of course you could have,” Raph is the first to say. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you could have walked to the moon on your hands if you wanted to. But you don’t have to walk while you’re hurt when Raph is here to carry you.”

He’s so earnest and sweet. It goes a long way in making Mikey forget why he was even annoyed to begin with. His brothers are lucky they’re so loveable! 

With a groan he tucks his head and shoulders and rolls forward, shell bumping playfully against the edge of the parapet, and comes right-side-up sitting criss-cross-applesauce.

“Fine,” he capitulates. “But only because Raphie thinks I could hand-walk to the moon.”

“And back,” Raph says, smiling down at him. Mikey lifts his arms to be scooped up and settled in his usual spot on Raph’s shoulder. 

If this was a year ago, Leo would have been right next to him, perched on Raph’s opposite shoulder and making silly jokes to make Mikey feel better. Leo loves to be carried. It was the one little brother thing his cool guy persona could never eclipse. The one thing Mikey was certain he wouldn’t outgrow no matter how old he got.

But instead of crossing the roof at a run to leap into Raph’s arms, always trusting the process, knowing they would open in time to catch him, Leo stays put. Maybe because Donnie is still resting his weight on him. But his expression is so transparently wistful and lonely for a split-second, even though his brothers are all right there, that it causes a pang of upset in Mikey’s heart. 

“Hey, Lee, room for one more,” he says, patting Raphie’s shoulder. 

Raph scoffs under his breath, which makes Mikey’s stomach do a surprised, uncomfy flip. Leo hears it, and his expression shutters so fast it’s almost unnatural, everything replaced by a wide, plastic smile. 

“Gotta get my steps in, Miguel,” he says, shoving his kit back through a portal and wiggling his shoulders so Donnie knows he’s about to stand up. “This figure doesn’t come free, you know.” 

He adds an imaginary hair-toss. Raph looks like he didn’t expect anything else. Mikey thinks he must not have seen that expression on Leo’s face. 

But it’s all Mikey can think about the entire drive home. That gulf between fourteen and fifteen where apparently everything changes. 

——

Something has been wrong for awhile now, ever since Pops made Leo the leader and turned their team inside out, but Mikey figured they were due for an adjustment period. Raph had a hard time letting go of responsibility and Leo had a hard time picking it up, but once they found their way back onto the same page everything would be okay. Gravity would keep them together. They didn’t know any other way to be. 

Except it’s been weeks and the arguing is only getting worse and it’s not even really that much fun to patrol anymore in the first place. Mikey usually loves going out at night with his brothers, finding bad guys to beat up and getting those ninja endorphins, but he’s sort of starting to feel about it the way kids in daytime television feel about homework. He just wants to get it over with.  

Tonight Leo is being a little silly. Flubbing jumps and slow to catch his cues. Once he even missed a sixteenth-story ledge and would have fallen—which was not funny at all and a bad joke to make—but Donnie’s arm shot out and caught him so smoothly that it had to have been planned. Like a trust fall! Or maybe twin telepathy actually is a thing and Donnie was just tricking them with all those printouts he handed around that one time to prove Leo wrong. Either way, Leo wasn’t actually in danger. 

Mikey loves silly Leo, and played right along into his antics, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Raph was ticked off and, by the time Leo missed that ledge, fed-up. He cut the evening short and told Leo to just portal them home. 

That’s when the wary little thing in the back of Mikey’s brain pokes its head up out of the ground. That’s when he realizes something was Wrong wrong. Capital wrong. 

Because Leo says, “Your wish is my command, my liege,” with the right amount of theater kid gusto, and that’s normal. He summons a pretty spinning blue portal as tall as Raph stood at the shoulder and hops through first, leaving Raph to make a hissing noise against his teeth and duck his head to follow, and that’s normal. Mikey glances over at Donnie, who doesn’t look up from where his snout is buried in his phone to wave Mikey ahead of him, and that’s normal, too.

It’s easy to take for granted how amazing Leo’s portals are. With two steps, Mikey walks off a cool rooftop in Brooklyn and into their warmly lit living room. He can hear Pops’ telenovelas from the projector room and smell the beef burgundy he’d left to simmer on the stove for dinner. 

And distracted as he is, listening to the familiar rising and falling cadence of Raph’s worn-out lecture about responsibility and watching the pretend-listening bob of Leo’s head, Mikey still sees it when the portal wobbles as Don steps through. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a big deal, except Leo’s face goes white and his whole body stills, and the coloring of his stripes starts to tinge toward neon like his ninpo is about to light up. 

And that’s not normal at all. 

It was just a split-second of destabilization, and Donnie moves through it just fine, but Leo holds his breath and keeps the portal open until his twin is right beside him. 

“This is literally what I’m talking about,” Raph says, that worried wrinkle in his brow deeper than ever. “Leo please listen when I talk just this once. If you’re not paying attention someone could get hurt. What if the portal just then had—”

“Woah, did you hear that?” Leo says right over him, cupping a hand at the side of his head as if to listen for something. “There’s another super riveting lecture about everything I do wrong happening in my room. I’m gonna catch that one instead. Thanks for this, though.”

He slips away as easily as if he was part eel instead of turtle and books it out of the living room in a way that manages to look like a casual saunter instead of the full-steam retreat it actually is. 

Raph looks stunned at the blatant dismissal, and then hurt, and then it all boils together into something furious. He’s never actually angry with them. It’s just that he cares so, so much and sometimes he has nowhere to put it. Sometimes it becomes something too big for him to hold. 

Right in that moment, he seems ready to grab Leo and rattle him until he ran out of nonsense and had no choice but to listen. 

“I’ll handle this one, Raphala,” Donnie says abruptly. “I’m the one who almost got spliced, so I’m the one who gets to have the first opinion about it.”

Since the twins’ whole schtick is getting each other into and out of trouble with very little regard for anything else, Raph looks reasonably skeptical of him ‘handling’ it. But Don is already following Leo out of the room, and the potential of another argument is removed neatly by his exit. 

Raph deflates a little bit. He’s the biggest strongest person Mikey knows, but suddenly he looks small. 

“Hey, Raphie, wanna help me dish up dinner?” Mikey says, smiling up at him. Anxious to banish that uncharacteristic smallness with the full force of his own personality if that’s what it takes. “You take dad his plate and I’ll wrangle Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lee.”

Raph smiles back at him, at least, and carefully carries two big servings of stew served over garlic mashed potatoes to the projector room. Pops will probably rope him into watching his shows and maybe Raph will actually take a minute to relax when it’s just him and dad and hearty comfort food and bad TV. 

Mikey ladles up two more bowls and takes a couple of individually-wrapped Gansito snack cakes out of his stash for good measure. It’s a sweet treat kind of night, he thinks. He’ll have to remember to get one for Raphie, too. 

Leo’s room is empty, and so is Donnie’s. Since Mikey doesn’t know where any of Leo’s secret hiding places are in their new lair, he only hesitates for a second before checking the lab. 

Oh, Mikey thinks, holding the tray in numb hands. Something is Wrong. 

The twins are both on the sofa that got shoved into the corner of the room as a compromise to Don’s occasional all-nighters, turtle-piled under a weighted blanket. Leo’s wearing noise-canceling headphones, using Don’s leathery carapace as a pillow. His mask is dangling from one sleep-loose hand, so the big dark circles under his eyes stand out on his pale face. 

Donnie’s still awake, tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t look up at the doorway that Mikey is standing in, but he does use one hand to sign a subtle, silent “no.” No talking? No company? Probably both. 

Swallowing hard, Mikey lifts the tray he’s holding up a little higher. That does get Don to look at him, and his second-oldest brother softens at whatever Mikey’s face must look like. He nods toward the desk, and signs, “Thanks, M. We’ll eat before it gets cold.” 

The only thing Mikey wants in the entire world at this moment is to crawl onto the sofa with them. He would probably get away with it, he doesn’t think there’s ever been a time in his entire life he wasn’t truly welcome in a turtle pile. But Donnie said no. And Leo looks so tired. 

He puts the tray on the desk, ninja-quiet, and leaves again without a whisper. 

His phone chimes in his pocket once he’s out the door, and he pulls it out to find a text from Don that says He’ll be okay, Angelo. He just needs to get some sleep. 

Leo’s relationship with sleep has always been hot-and-cold. Usually he’s pretty honest about it when it gets bad, in the sense that he lets them see how exhausted he is instead of hiding it behind a goofy, cocky exterior. 

Remembering that missed ledge from earlier tonight causes ice to form in Mikey’s stomach. That wasn’t a trust fall at all, was it?

Biting his lip, Mikey sends back, Would a visit from Dr. Feelings help?

The typing dots appear, but only for a second. The reply comes swiftly: Not this time. 

——

That night Mikey tosses and turns for an hour before finally pulling a move he hasn’t in ages and slinking over to Raph’s room. He lingers uncertainly in the open door, because he doesn’t know how little you have to be to be allowed to crawl into Raphie’s nest and let him hug the world all better. Mikey had thought that was a forever thing, but he can’t get Leo’s face on the rooftop out of his head. 

Raph is still awake, playing on his Switch, and notices the shadow that passes in front of the doorway instantly. He sets his game down and lifts one arm in automatic welcome and Mikey crosses the room at a run and slams into the embrace as if it’s an offer that might expire. 

And it might. Mikey had never really thought it would before. 

“Hey, big man,” Raph says, his voice a comforting rumble that rights all wrongs. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Mikey nods, and picks at a loose thread in the pink comforter, and then says, “Will you still carry me when I’m fifteen?”

“What? Of course I will.”

“What about sixteen?”

“You’re never gonna be too big for Raph to carry, Mike. I’ll always be the biggest, big enough to haul you bozos around whether you like it or not.”

Some frightened little creature inside Mikey’s chest loosens the grip it has on his heart with its teeth. But it doesn’t fully let go. And Mikey can’t help but ask, “What if we argue a lot and stop being friends?”

The idea of not being friends with his brother is enough on its own to make him want to burst into tears. He has no idea how Leo isn’t just constantly bawling. Then he remembers the circles under Leo’s eyes that don’t show when he’s wearing his mask and the way Donnie always follows him out of the room now. And he thinks it’s silly of him to forget that pain shows itself differently from one person to the next. 

Hurt chases understanding across Raph’s expression, and he squeezes Mikey a little tighter to his plastron. 

“I’ll love you no matter what, Angie. You and Leo and Don are forever for me, okay? If the world ends tomorrow, I’ll still be somewhere, loving my little brothers. It’s too big to just disappear.”

Mikey is fourteen years old and too old to be coddled anymore but not too old that he doesn’t trust in Raphael with his entire heart and then some. If Raph believes Mikey could walk to the moon and back, Mikey believes his biggest brother could lift up the whole sky and hold it for as long as he wanted to, if he wanted to.

Laying there under the warm pink blanket, with Raph’s twinkling nightlight in the corner and the sound of dad’s TV down the hall, Mikey thinks about things that last forever, things you can never outgrow—inside jokes between siblings, skilled hands wrapping sprained ankles, a door standing open in the dark in case you couldn’t sleep. 

Then he thinks about those looks on Raph’s and Leo’s faces when they thought no one was watching. How lonely they’ve both been without their best friend on their team. 

“Can you do me a favor tomorrow?” he asks before he can think better of it. “Scoop Leo.”

“Mikey…” Raph sighs, not wanting to say what Mikey already knows he’s thinking. That Leo would hate it, that it would cause another argument, that he doesn’t want to fight first thing tomorrow morning. He doesn’t want to fight at all. 

“Don’t—don’t do it like you’re mad,” Mikey adds quickly, heart thumping. “Like you caught him sneaking out or you need to keep him in one place so dad can check his stitches but he keeps slipping away like a buttered noodle. Do it like—like you missed him. Pretend he’s been gone for a long time and he just got home. And you’re happy to see him.”

Once Leo went away with April to an overnight camp. It was a nerd camp, he’d said gleefully, bright eyes scanning the brochure, and there was a chess league! April’s mom was a volunteer organizer and promised Splinter that it was a relatively small, local event, and that Leo would be safe. 

It was the longest the brothers had ever been apart before. Even though they texted and video called near-constantly, by the end of the week it had felt like they’d misplaced a limb somewhere. When Leo finally swanned into the lair he had bags of souvenirs for all of them and a hundred stories to tell and the first thing he did was drop everything and run straight into Raph’s open arms. The way he always does. The first thing he always does. 

Raph is looking at Mikey in the semi-dark with unreadable eyes. It takes a minute, seconds crawling by so slowly Mikey starts to worry Raph will say no. He builds up all these new fears, a subdivision development springing up where problems will live in rows of cookie-cutter houses and pay outrageous mortgages and never truly go away again. 

But then Raphie says, “Alright, Ange. But you’re dealing with the fallout.”

He sounds very tired, and a little like he’s just humoring someone who doesn’t know better, but a win is a win. 

The next day, when Leo is the last to wander into the kitchen even though he was probably the first one awake, and does that thing where he manages to not look a single person in the eye while otherwise acting totally normal, Raph frowns at him. 

Mikey can tell it’s concern. He thinks Leo expects it to be something else, and manages to find whatever he’s looking for even if it’s not really there.

But then Raphael glances over at Mikey, and Mikey holds out his arms and mimes a big scoop. Setting his jaw as though he’s about to go head-to-head with the Shredder again, Raph scoots his chair back from the table, rounds it, and then lifts Leo clean off his feet. 

Leo’s eyes are huge and he squirms like a hooked fish, but then Raph says, all bright and charming, “Look what the goat-man dragged in! How’d you sleep, champ?”

“Fine,” the slider says cautiously, slowing his escape attempts, but still looking like he half-expects this to be a trap. When Raph hums and nothing else happens, some little piece of his guard goes down and he adds, “Good. Slept, um, right through my alarm actually. Was worried I was gonna miss Chef Miguel’s magic.”

“Yeah? If you’re still feeling tired after breakfast, you should catch another nap. You know Raph worries.”

They’re each braced for the other to hurt their feelings. But being inside Raph’s arms when he wants to hold you is the best place in the whole world to be. Nothing bad exists and nothing has the power to make you feel small or ugly or scared. It’s just you and this big guy who loves you, who loves to carry you. 

For the first time in weeks, Leo’s plastic smile wobbles and slips. He blinks and his eyes get wet and he reaches up to sling his arms around his big brother’s neck. The way to get inside Leo’s head, past all the anxieties, past that constant guard, is to hold him and sound happy to see him. He wants so badly to be wanted. Mikey can’t understand how someone as smart as Leo doesn’t know that he already is. 

“I know,” Leo chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

Raph couldn’t have looked more stunned if someone had taken this moment to dump a bucket of ice water on his head. But in true Raph fashion, his arms tighten around his little brother automatically, readjusting their hold so that Leo is more secure. The shape of it transforms from quick hug into steadfast embrace. 

Mikey’s biggest brother, who could hold up the whole sky, will stand there and hold Leo together until the heat death of the universe, or until Leo lets go. 

“Hey,” Raph says gently, “how about we hit the arcade later, just the two of us? We’re overdue a jam session and I’ll bet there’s a karaoke machine with our names on it.” 

“As long as you promise not to attempt Mariah Carey, I’m down for anything, big guy.” Because Leo would follow Raph anywhere, has followed Raph everywhere, and they both seem to be remembering that in real time. 

It really must have thrown Leo’s world out of orbit to be the one pushed out in front and expected to lead, with no prior warning or discussion. A jam session is exactly what the two of them need.

“I’ll make French toast for breakfast, but only if we can agree on toppings,” Mikey pipes up from the kitchen, as casually as if his whole heart isn’t a painful, hopeful thing lodged in his throat.

“Raspberry jam,” Leo muffles from somewhere between Raph’s shell and shoulder, “or I’m rioting.”

Raspberry jam and cream cheese stuffed French toast is Raphael’s well-known, all-time favorite breakfast food. Raph shouldn’t be surprised that Leo knows that, so the surprise must come from somewhere else. The last couple of weeks of stress and hurt and frustration go sliding off his spiky shell like water, all replaced by relief. The worry and confusion are still there, but those weigh practically nothing in comparison. He smacks a noisy kiss on the top of Leo’s head, grinning brightly when Leo whines and starts half-heartedly trying to noodle away. 

“What’d I tell you?” Donnie says, from his sleepy stake-out in front of the Keurig. “Dr. Feelings is a smart guy, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the smartest guy I know. A Mikey makes everything better.”

Mikey beams at him, the kitchen warm and full and lively, Raph and Leo squabbling playfully by the table, his morning playlist belting out something folky and upbeat, gravity pulling everything back to where it belongs.  

Fifteen doesn’t feel so scary anymore. But maybe Mikey’s okay with taking the long way there, after all. 

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 8

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 |-| Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

AO3

Summary: An unwelcome face stirs up problems for Susie, and DeMarco struggles with the high stakes of his mission

Warnings: Language, mild violence/injury description, mentions of death

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @justheretoreadthxxs

Crickets chirped ceaselessly in the fields, their endless chitter whirring away below the constant noise of day-to-day work - humming engines, shouts from one man to another - all merging into the ever-present blanket of noise. Gravel crunched beneath Susie's feet as she walked, bracketed between DeMarco and Egan, scrawling onto her clipboard as they spoke. After receiving so many letters from incensed mechanics, medics, and seemingly everyone else at Thorpe Abbotts, she had given up on relying on the supply lists given to her by command, instead electing to take orders directly.

Bucky held out a hand, counting on his fingers as he listed off everything his boys needed, words cut by the sound of pen against paper as she scribbled down each request. Susie had long grown accustomed to walking and writing simultaneously, yet DeMarco still found his gaze fixed at her feet, paying attention to make sure she didn't trip.

"And how many AN-M30s?"

"Well, we dropped about forty yesterday, so-"

"-I'll just take as many as they'll give me," She shrugged, making a quick note in the margin.

The roar of an engine sounded closer than usual, and Susie glanced up from her jottings as a huge, black Rolls-Royce cruised past, slowing as it approached the command building. She narrowed her eyes slightly at it - the thing looked strikingly... familiar.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing with the tip of her pen as they continued to walk, managing to keep in step despite her distraction.

"That? Oh, some RAF Marshal come to meet with the Colonel," Egan shrugged, a distinct hint of derision in his tone. "Strategy meeting or something - Jack's been freaked about it all week. Some guy called... Cagney, I think?" He peered across at Benny, who nodded in confirmation.

Susie stopped dead in her tracks, changing pace so swiftly that the other two had made it a couple of feet before realising she was no longer with them. Her jaw was clenched unbearably tight, and she could already hear her pulse thumping inside her head. "... Uh... Suze?" DeMarco asked cautiously.

"You said Cagney, right?"

"... Yeah?"

"As in Air Marshal William Cagney, yes?"

Bucky clicked his fingers, nodding. "That's the fella... Wait, how did you-?"

"Right." Susie nodded firmly, expression immediately soured, and neither man had a chance to question her before she marched straight past them, pressing her clipboard into DeMarco's chest as she stomped across the grass. They exchanged an uncertain glance - neither had ever really heard of the man, but the way her fists clenched at her sides was definitely a bad sign.

Egan paused for a moment. "... Should we?"

"Yeah, yeah, start walking, go," Benny affirmed hurriedly, tailing it after her as swiftly as he could without breaking into a full-blown sprint, anxious to stop her without drawing too much attention. "Suze? Susie!"

Before they could reach her, the Marshal's car rolled to a halt, and DeMarco swore he felt his blood run cold as he noticed her roll up her sleeves. "She's real fast when she's mad," Egan exhaled in despair, the pair appearing frankly ridiculous as they awkwardly galloped after her.

The driver exited the car, circling around to open the door. As the Marshal emerged, his face lit up with instant recognition, a merry expression colouring his cheeks. "Ah! Susan!" Cagney cried, holding out his hands in greeting. "It's been so long, wonderful to see-"

Before he'd even managed to finish his sentence, an almighty crack echoed across the base as Susie's fist collided with his jaw, sending the officer stumbling and falling backwards, eyes wide in horror. For a split second, the world seemed to stand terrible still, before DeMarco and Egan let out simultaneous yelps of alarm, breaking into a run. Benny seized her by the biceps, tugging her back against his chest before she could do any more damage, her glare fixed unwaveringly upon the Marshal as his driver helped him to his feet. He could feel her muscles pulled taught beneath his fingertips, ready to strike again. He'd never quite realised how strong she was until now... it wasn't an unwelcome surprise.

"Now, Susan," Cagney huffed slowly, hands held up in surrender. He spoke as if he were a father scolding a rowdy child, the patronising way in which he looked at her enough to make Benny dislike him. That he looked nearly twenty years her senior didn't help. "If your sister were here, she wouldn't want you behaving like this-"

“If Beatrice was here she’d do the exact same, and you know it. You’re lucky Ronnie’s out the country, n’all - he’ll have your balls when he gets back!" Susie snapped in retort, straining against DeMarco, his vice grip on her possibly the only thing stopping her from ripping the man's throat out. The angrier she grew, the thicker and rougher her accent became - if the situation hadn't been so dire, Benny probably would've smiled at the observation.

"Walk away, Lamb," Egan warned, shaking his head at her as she briefly met his eye. "Just walk it off, c'mon," He urged, and she could tell in his eyes that he was practically begging - he didn't want her to go down for this, he earnestly didn't.

"Suze. Hey," Her shoulder blade bumped against DeMarco's chest, and she felt his breath warm against her neck as he whispered, words only audible to her. "It's okay. It's okay." Colonel Harding had appeared in the doorway, watching the scene with a hard stare, and Benny swore not even the flying had ever scared him like this. "Don't let 'em kick you out over that asshole, eh?"

Beneath his palms, he felt her muscles relax, her shoulders loosen, and he knew she wouldn't hurt Cagney again if he released her. So he did. Susie's glare lingered on the Marshal for a moment before she turned away, heading straight for command, surrendering herself for whatever the consequences of her outburst may be. Without even a second of hesitation, DeMarco was following at her side, walking so closely that their shoulders brushed against one another. Harding's gaze followed her every move, and as Benny held the door open for her, he tilted an imaginary cap to the Colonel.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The conversation inside Harding's office remained muffled and indiscernible from the other side of the door, the corridor outside hanging in tense silence. Susie perched on the bench by the door, waiting quietly like a student about to be led into the headmaster's office. DeMarco sat complacently beside her, hands folded in his lap, foot tapping against the wooden floorboards. Bucky had lingered for a while, pacing the hall impatiently until he absented himself, too worried that he might laugh in Cagney's face if he saw him again, the image of Susie's punch replaying over and over in his mind.

"Yunno... You don't have to stay for this bit," She grumbled, picking at her thumbnail as she spoke, not even registering the action until he bumped his knee against hers, drawing her attention to it as she pulled her hands apart.

Benny shrugged. "Yeah, well. Strength in numbers."

Susie's cheek creased with a lopsided grin, flashing a sliver of teeth as she shook her head, exhaling a huff of amusement. Her fingers drummed against the side of the bench, and as he looked down he noticed that the knuckle of her ring finger had split, a droplet of blood pooling against the pale skin. Wordlessly, he reached for her hand, pulling it into his lap and pressing his thumb firmly against the wound to staunch the bleeding. The first time he'd touched her hand had been the first time they'd danced together - her entire being stiff, loathing every minute as he led her to the floor. But now she didn't even flinch.

"... Who's Ronnie?" He asked. She snorted.

"That's seriously your biggest question about that whole thing?" Susie laughed, a sound he could never tire of. "He's my oldest brother, he's very... protective."

"And where does that asshole in there fit into it?" Benny frowned, tilting his head towards the office, where the Marshal was still speaking with Harding.

She shrugged. "He's my brother-in-law."

If he'd had a drink, he would've spat it out. "That guy? He looks old enough to be your father."

"I think he is," Susie rolled her eyes. "He's also been cheating on my sister Beatrice the entire time they've been married - I dunno where he gets the balls. Fuckin' dickhead."

DeMarco let out a long exhale, nodding slowly as he processed what she was telling him. "... You should hit him again when he comes out, I think."

She chuckled, tittering off into a slow silence as the office door opened and Harding stepped out, frowning at her. Benny rose to his feet in respect, but she scarcely even looked up at the Colonel, slowly turning to face him as if he were somehow intruding.

"Get in here, Lamb," The Colonel sighed. "You're free to go, DeMarco."

"I'll wait, sir," He nodded firmly.

Harding paused, staring at him for a moment. "... Alright, then."

Susie sucked in a deep breath as the office door closed behind her, shoving her hands awkwardly into her pockets as Cagney turned around in his seat to glance over at her, a bruise already blooming beneath his left eye. She fought the urge to smirk, deciding it probably wouldn't help her case.

"Sit down, Commander," Harding drawled, clearly wishing he didn't have to be a part of this. She'd have preferred to stand, but any effort to avoid pissing the two men off further seemed like a good idea.

"Now. You should consider yourself lucky, Lamb - the Marshal here has been generous enough to avoid pressing any charges. You're not gonna have to go through the usual disciplinary channels."

"It's a family affair, really," Cagney shrugged, nodding as if he'd given her a gift of charity.

"Damn right it is," Susie grumbled.

"Lamb," Harding warned, and she held up a hand in surrender.

"So is that it?" She huffed. "Can I go?"

"Well, I'd like to hear you apologise first," The Marshal added, and she could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. Susie turned her head, staring at him for a long, hard minute. The clock ticked away each agonising second up on the wall, the air in the room suddenly twice as thick.

"Please fire me." She addressed the Colonel, not an ounce of humour evident in her tone.

Harding sighed, tilting his head back as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "What is wrong with you?"

"Susan, I thought we were friends," Cagney frowned. "We took you on that holiday to Devon in '38-"

"-Oh yeah, the one where you ditched dinner to go shag a waitress, that one? And my name's not fucking Susan, you pathetic ballbag," Susie grunted, pushing herself up from her seat and beginning to head for the door.

"Lamb!" Harding barked. She paused, hand hovering over the doorknob. "The apology's the condition. If you don't do it, we've gotta charge you."

Susie's jaw clenched so hard she thought the bone might shatter. Sucking in one long, deep breath, she turned on her heel, mustering a smile so sickeningly sweet it made the two men squirm.

"William, I am so sorry for knocking you on your arse. It was immature. And violent. I truly hope this doesn't spoil whatever date you have planned with your mistress this weekend," She ended with a grin, backing out of the door before Cagney could object.

DeMarco leapt up as she reemerged, striding swiftly down the corridor, never pausing her pace to greet him as she gestured for him to follow. He fell in step, frowning slightly as he glanced between her and the office door. "Are we good?"

"Yeah, I think we're good, but let's leave right now just to be safe," Susie nodded hurriedly, her hand wrapping around his wrist as she tugged him faster towards the door. As they stepped out into the afternoon sun, Benny found himself watching her face, tracing the relief as it made its way across her expression. He smiled.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The truck engine roared as Susie pressed her foot to the pedal, cruising along the runway towards the rows of forts waiting patiently in the fog for their signal. Even with their headlights blaring, it was difficult to see more than ten metres ahead, and she routinely parped the horn every now and then to prevent any would-be pedestrians from getting in their way.

"I mean - Algeria?" Maeve spoke up from the passenger seat, rhythmically tapping the end of her pen against the clipboard resting on her lap. "That's definitely insane, right?"

"Yep," Susie affirmed, gaze fixed on the barely visible tarmac out in front. "Almost as bad as the amount of fuel we've had to scrape together for the fucking trip."

In the back of the truck, crates of bullets and ammunition belts clattered and banged against one another, jostled side to side with each turn and bump in the road. Susie had spent most of the previous day working on getting the drop tanks refilled with the necessary fuel to make it to Algeria, and she'd had to shower three times that night to purge the stench of petrol from her hair. It had been nothing short of a nightmare trying to arrange transport for the myriad of supplies the mission required - so much so that she was almost glad to see the pilots go - to know her work hadn't been for nothing. Almost.

They pulled up alongside the first plane on their route, taking full advantage of the delay to ensure each crew had enough spare ammo for anything the Luftwaffe could throw at them. Headlights still streaking through the fog, the men were little more than silhouettes as they approached, ready to receive their supplies. She and Mave clambered from the truck, rounding to the back as they began to haul out boxes one by one.

"Hey," A gentle hand brushed against Susie's shoulder as she stepped back, a crate in her arms. Turning her head, she found DeMarco standing at her side, but in that moment, she suddenly realised she wasn't pleased to see him. In that moment, she realised she'd been hoping to avoid him altogether.

Susie hated goodbyes - despised the forced sentimentality, detested the unspoken admission that there was even a sliver of possibility that they might not see each other again. It had become alarmingly apparent over the past few weeks that losing DeMarco was growing into a worst-case scenario, a distinct possibility that she had allowed herself to become vulnerable to. Why did he have to be so goddamn nice?

"Hey," She tried to force a smile, but realised one came easily the moment she turned to face him. He reached forward, easing the create from her hands, and she let him take it, passing it on to one of the other members of his crew.

"Can we talk a sec?" Benny asked, hand on her arm guiding her further into the fog as she nodded, stopping once they were obscured from the view of the others. Out in the middle of the runway, they seemed almost in a void, the dense cloud encircling them in a sea of grey.

"Look, Suze," He began, pausing to take a deep breath. "I know we don't say goodbye before missions - we never have - but-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to," He assured her, nodding earnestly. Somehow, the greyness of their surroundings made his eyes appear browner than ever. "Please?"

Susie didn't reply - didn't offer any words in response to his plea. She simply stepped forward, half-collapsing into him as she wrapped her arms around DeMarco's neck, eyes screwed tightly shut as she pressed her chin against his shoulder. He felt so solid, so real, so warm and tangible beneath her hands, a squeeze pressing her body closer against his as he reached around her torso, the back-and-forth rub of his thumb only just perceptible through her jacket.

"I want you to come back," She confessed.

He let out a chuckle, warm breath slipping down the back of her collar. "Yeah, me too," She could hear the smile in his voice, but she felt the way he tightened his grip, too - as if frightened that she'd slip away. Susie adjusted, shrugging her arms further around him, her cheek flush against the side of his neck, stubble tickling her ear. It had been so long since she'd held anyone this tight. She hadn't realised how much she'd missed the feeling until it came time to let go.

If she peeled herself away gently, there was a danger she wouldn't make it all the way - that she'd remember his goodness all over again and be struck by an inability to let go. So instead, Susie tore away in one fell swoop, taking a decisive step backwards as her arms fell to her sides. She could feel him staring at her, feel his gaze on her face, but she couldn't quite bear to meet his eye, her stare fixed on the ground beneath his feet.

"Ah, Suze," He sighed, and she could perfectly envision the twinkle in his smile as Benny stepped forward, his hand reaching out for the back of her neck, pressing a firm kiss to her temple, auburn curls creasing between his fingers. As soon as he'd touched her, he was gone, fading away through the fog as he made for his plane and the crew that awaited him. But she could still feel the push of his lips against her skin long after he disappeared.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The air hung thick with the early manifestation of rain, moisture on the breeze clinging to everything and leaving it damp, droplets of water half-forming on the tips of Susie's eyelashes as she leaned back against the bench, breathing in the cool morning. Over an hour had passed since the returning planes had rolled in, carrying the survivors home from Algeria, but the crowds had dispersed as swiftly as they'd arrived, crews hurried off to interrogation before any more could be said. But DeMarco was alive - that much she knew. She hadn't gotten the chance to see him yet, but Meatball had had to be pulled away from the interrogation hut, so hell-bent was he on pawing at the door until his owner came out for him. He was in there.

Susie stared down at the cup of water in her hand, its surface still untouched. She didn't even know why she'd got it. She didn't want it.

A faint creak sounded beside her, and she looked up as Benny lowered himself onto the bench, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. Surveying his appearance, she had to admit he looked terrible. Still dressed in his vest and khaki shorts, the hairs on his arms stood on end in the English cold, the dark crop of hair atop his head dusted lighter with the grains of sand he was yet to shake out. His face was weathered and worn, and she could smell him even at a distance, sweat infused in almost every inch of fabric. She shuddered to think of the stench that must have filled the interrogation hut.

She held the cup out to him, and he took it with a muttered thanks, downing the entire thing in no more than a couple of gulps, throat bobbing with every desperate swallow as he cleansed the film of dirt that had built up on his tongue. He gasped as the last drop slid down his gullet, and they fell into silence, shoulders rising and falling as they breathed steadily in time.

"... My friend died." DeMarco said, tone flat and even as if it didn't mean a thing.

Susie turned her head to look at him, assessing his dull expression. "I'm sorry."

"People keep doing that, huh? Dying."

What could she say to that? It was true. They existed in a vicious cycle of waiting and grieving and replacing, over and over again. Every man hung on by a thread that could snap at any moment - nothing ever seemed permanent except her own existence.

"I'm really not the person to give advice on how to deal with this stuff. Not healthily, at least... But hey, if you ever wanna quit your job and run away from home, I know a guy," She shrugged, her thumb pointed back at herself. DeMarco's gaze followed the movement of her hand, letting out a huff of laughter.

"Y'ain't as bad as you think you are," He shook his head, leaning sideways so that their shoulders bumped against one another's. Susie met his gaze for a moment, lip curling in a sad, gentle smile. "... It was Curt."

"Oh. Yeah, I - I remember him, I think."

"I don't... think he liked you much."

"He didn't."

"But he woulda. If he'd got to know you properly."

She scoffed slightly, chuckling. "You always say that - I think there's a chance I might just be naturally unlikeable to a lotta people."

"Well, I dunno, I've definitely enjoyed the experience - I'd recommend it."

DeMarco was nearly too tired to smirk, but she could see it in his eyes - the amusement and affection were there, even if his muscles were too fatigued to tug at his lip. It was almost embarrassing, the effect Susie felt when he looked at her in his way, her heartbeat slowing, the tension in her bones diminished. She'd always heard people describe the butterflies, the nerves that tugged at the stomach and made the palms sweat. But all she felt was calm.

She'd opened herself up to him - let him know her in ways she wasn't sure even her own family had known or bothered to probe. And in turn, she'd become vulnerable to a dozen different kinds of heartbreak.

Susie raised her hand, palm skimming across DeMarco's forehead as she raked her fingers through his hair, dislodging the grains of sand in a small shower of brown. "You really need a shower," She cringed.

"I really stink, don't I?"

"God, yeah."

He chuckled slightly, tugging her hand away by the wrist as he rose to his feet, beginning the trudge back towards his hut and the warm shower it promised. Before he could disappear around the corner, he glanced back one last time, flashing her a smile.

There were so many ways in which he could hurt her. And so many reasons why he wouldn’t.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Fated by the Stars (12)

Straykids ot8 x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Wounds/Injuries Traumatic Past, Violence, Swearing, and Mentions of Non-consensual Molesting.

Summary - Sang-Jun finds out you're taken will he stop pursuing you or what?

Masterlist

Finally the heat had broken, I had worried the boys when my heat lasted longer than it should have. They took me to the hospital at one point because it hadn't broken. When the doctor had learned of my past with heats, he soon understood what the problem was. "So based on all the information I am aware of, her natural heat stopped becoming natural. Basically it stopped all together as her first pack alpha forced it to stay on track with his ruts. Since she had gone so long with out the medication I believe her body finally got back into the natural flow of things. It is probably just bad timing, like her heat might have already been about to come on. However she got spiked which sped things up, but her body is not used to the medication anymore. So her heat still came like it planned but that coincided with her forced one. She should break the heat within the week, since we don't know when her natural heat started it's hard to give an exact date." With that the boys brought me back home, their emotions more calm with an expert opinion behind them.

Once it finally broke, they found me crying in my nest. All of them rushing to find out what was wrong. I shook my head when they asked if I was hurt. But instead I told them, "I feel soooo grossssss, I'm so uncomfortable, please help me wash up?" I made grabby hands at them all, waiting for someone to take my offer and help me with my needs. They all chuckled in some way as Chan and Hyunjin stepped forward. "We will give you a nice bath pup, we were about to wash up anyways." Hyunjin said while carrying me. Chan told the others to clean up the rest of the house, Minho and Felix would start dinner. He would ask me before I left the room if they could take down and wash the nest. Which I nodded to with the exception that they must re-scent their specific blanket, or fur once cleaned. They all eagerly agreed and went off to do their specific task while Chan, Hyunjin and I went to wash up together.

Ever since then we have had great day after great day. Even when they had to be gone for work, all was okay, cause we were mated for life. I could feel their emotions and they could fell mine. We were more sensitive to each other, able to find each other quicker. All was good, I finally felt really love, experiencing how an omega should be treated. It was so fantastic.

Today, I was brought to the mall by Seungmin and Changbin. They had the day off and when I asked if I could go to the mall alone they threw a fuss. We came to the agreement that they would take me and wait in the car so if they get anything bad happen then they could get to me quickly. I agreed as long as they didn't look in any of the bags when I returned to the car. I wanted to make them all something nice as a token to our completed bonding. I just loved giving them things.

Walking in the mall, I could feel myself adorning a large smile as I walked through different craft stores buying all the items I would need to complete my project. As I moved on to the next store for more supplies. I happily walked along the hallway, seeing cute couples and family's with kids walking past me. I smiled thinking about one day having a bunch of pups of my own. I wished to birth a kid for each one of my mates, making them happy to each have their own offspring.

However I soon stopped as that acidic smell entered my senses, in front of me stood both Sang-jun and Sang-Hee. I felt my blood run cold, as my body instinctively went numb. It was always better to hide your emotion than suffer the consequences of having the wrong emotion at the wrong time.

I saw them both staring at my shoulders. I had worn a pretty off the shoulder top with a pair of jean shorts. I wanted to show off all my perfectly healed mating marks. I had learned through social media that these were most like trophies in the omegan world. So I wore the perfect outfit to feel cute and show off my bond to my pack.

Yet when these two saw the marks, they were filled with overwhelming anger. Both of them stalked up to me menacingly. It's then that I could feel the anger and fear of my mates, no doubt they could feel my emotions run cold. I'm sure when my emotions had gone numb to them as well they all freaked out. This was good however, as it meant Changbin and Seungmin were running in for me. I just had to hold my ground for a bit.

"So you decided to mate to those worthless alpha's bitch?" I growled back at Sang-Hee. "Say what you want about me but don't speak filth of my pack." Sang-Jun growled at me. However I stood proud knowing my alpha and beta were coming. "It's doesn't matter how hard they hold onto you Omega. We will get you back, even if we have to slaughter that whole pack just to retrieve what is rightfully mine." Sang-Hee looked at Sang-Jun. "Ours you mean." Sang-Jun nodded. "Whatever"

A few years before my escape, Sang-hee had taken a liking to me after experiencing how I would act and submit to Sang-Jun. Thus they promised to share me. Though it was easy to tell Sang-Jun wasn't 100% happy with the outcome. But he knew that it meant two chances for a perfect alpha pup from me.

My confidence began to drop as they were able to pin me to a wall, I was stuck. Fuck. Sangjun had his had wrapped tightly around my throat. Just above the mating marks so all I could feel was pain and loss of breath. "I promise you with my life omega. I WILL get your ass back in my home. I will break every last sliver of hope you have. I will fuck you into my perfect submissive omega that you used to be, and you will give birth to our pups. You WILL be mine, one way or another. just you fucking wait bitch."

With that he let go and they both walked away, when they turned the corner never to be seen again. That's when Changbin and Seungmin finally found me. They first noticed my tears, then noticed the slowly purpling bruise around my throat. it was obviously a hand print and they knew exactly what had happened. They just didn't know who. I wiped my tears as I let myself go numb, forgetting they stood there as I walked away.

I was no longer mentally aware, I went into full autopilot. The boys tried to reach me but soon realized why my bond went radio silent. They allowed me to finish buying my things, carrying my bags for me. Soon I was back in the car, sitting behind them as Changbin drove and Seungmin tried to calm me by rubbing my leg from the front passenger seat.

When we got back home, I could hear Seungmin on the phone. It sounded like group call as multiple voices came through the other end. He talked about me, they were probably all freaking out as my bond was numb. Nothing came from me, I had regressed to the same state I had back in my old pack. Changbin followed with half the bags. We both sat them down in my small art studio, it was a small room they had emptied out and renovated for me. Once they were sat ready to be emptied, I instead walked back out of the room. Changbin following as he shut the door for me. He silently followed as I made my way back to my room. He watched from the doorway as I crawled onto my bed and laid down staring at the ceiling.

I heard him sigh as he allowed me time alone, probably hoping I would come back from the headspace on my own. Yet that is not what happened. As everyone arrived home only two hours later, they opened my bedroom door to find me sat on the bay window. There was enough space for all of us. I sat in the middle, legs tucked up against me as my head and arms rested comfortable onto of my knees. I stared off out the window on tot he beautiful forest horizon. My room had one of the best views as I could watch the sunset.

I could hear them enter the room behind me and slowly come closer. Until finally a few of them sat down on either side, all of the Betas were sat around me. The alphas stood behind me, unsure of how to help their omega.

Hyunjin pulled me into his arms, carrying me to my bed. He laid back against the headboard, leaning me against him. He was hugging me to him from behind as Jisung laid down against my front. Seungmin and Felix each took a side, hugging me together in a puddle. When that barely worked, the alphas began to join them. Each one finding a spot to drown me in the huge cuddle puddle. The first one to speak was Chan, as an idea came to his head.

"Omega is safe now, Pack is here to protect omega." Each one of them felt and saw a small subtle change in me. Almost as if I was beginning to relax into their hold. So everyone began to say different things. Some told me how good of an omega I was for them. Some told me they were here to protect me from all evil. A few explained how they would rip apart anyone that tried to hurt me again. Finally my numbness faded, and I was hit with a rocketing wave of fear, pain, and sadness. I began to cry loudly as they all cooed and tried to hold me tighter. I began to receive kisses, and other wiped my eyes. Some massaged my stiff limbs. But what stood out the most prominent to them was how horse my voice sounded, this is when they knew who ever had choked me definitely damaged my throat.

This sent the alphas into a frenzy as I was ripped from he betas by Jeongin. Changbin sandwiching me against mjeoning for behind as they all asked who had hurt me. It took a moment but I was able to calm down enough to say his name. "s-Sang-jun." It hurt to speak, and that helped me calm down more as it took precedence in my mind. Growls erupted into the room as the boys could only imagine what he must have done or said to me for this kind of reaction to happen.

Yet when they calmed down, they decided it was better to let me experience all their love tonight. The questions could be saved for tomorrow, for now I needed to be reminded of how much they loved and adored me. This was not only for myself, but also them. Most if not all had felt like they failed me, especially the two who were with me. They scolded themselves for not being fast enough with finding me. Only showing up to the aftermath of the event. They would make to make it up to you. Some how.

Chan picked me out of Jeongins arms, handing me over to Hyunjin. He knew the lead beta was best at pampering me when it came to baths and such. "Give her the most pampered and calming bath you can. Then dress her for bed and bring her down for dinner. We want her as comfortable as possible for the night." When can looked around the room he said. "Everyone needs to take a sick day tomorrow. It's time to spoil her for the day again, to remind her she is safe with us." Everyone nodded at his words. The alphas all following him to ago help clean and set the table while also cooking my favorite for dinner.

The Betas all followed with me and Hyunijin into the main bathroom. This one was big enough for almost the whole pack to bath together. But that never really happened, it was usually just a group of us together.

Together they helped me undress, they undid my hair letting it flow down. Then they too all undressed themselves, Jisung was the first one ready and he began to set up the bath. Felix grabbed all our soaps, shampoos and conditioners. Hyunjin picked me up and placed me down into the warm bath with ease.

Then everyone joined us as bubbles surrounded all of us, jisung had made me a bubble bath. They were all trying their best to bring my mood back up. Trying to make me smile fully again. This made me happier, but I don't think I would fully smile again for a bit. I was still experiencing short memories of my past.

The abuse I had taken for years upon years, along with everything I seen done to others. It was beyond devastating. I could still almost feel the pain from everything, all the mental, emotional and physical pain I had experienced.

More tears began to cascade down my face as these memories flashed through my head. Seungmin noticed me first and instantly picked me up to sit in his lap. He held my face into his neck, filling my senses with the scent of him.

This act of his began to calm me down slowly, as my body began to relax he began to kiss along my neck. He kissed specifically his mate mark, giving both of us a sense of euphoria in that single moment. Soon I felt more kiss from the other boys as they each kissed their mate mark. This some how helped me to finally fully relax, the horrid memories fading from my mind.

Now I was being filled with short memories of each mate, moments that made me feel as euphoric as possible. Seconds later Felix began to wash my hair with shampoo. While Seungmin and Jisung washed my body. After that hyunjin had washed himself and took care of my hair for the conditioner. While the others began to wash themselves.

Once all cleaned up, they helped me get out and began to dry me off. Hyunjin helped wrap my hair up in the towel. Once I was dry enough they helped me out of the room and off my my room. They grabbed their own clothes along the way.

Once in my room, I was sat on the extra fluffy grey fur laying on my bed. I was now dry save for my hair which was wrapped up in a towel still. Seungmin sat beside me, rubbing a hand over my back in comforting way while we watched our mates search my closet for clothes.

However besides the underwear, anything else they brought me I was unwilling to wear. "What would you like to wear sweetheart?" Seungmin finally asked after 5 minutes of this. "I want alphas clothes, but I also want to have your scents on them too." I whined. I needed the constant scent of my pack to keep me sane. I didn't want to risk falling into that pit of mental darkness again.

So with that Hyunjin and Felix went to snatch some clothes. When they came back I watched them spilt the clothes amongst the four of them. Hyunjin held Chan's jacket while scenting one half of it so it smelled like both of them. Felix scented Changbins shorts, Jisung had Minho's t-shirt and Seungmin had Jeongin's fluffy socks. Once the items smelled like one alpha and one beta, they helped me dress up. Finally I felt comfortable surrounded by their scents.

With that I was picked up this time by Felix as they brought me into the dining room. I could smell the delicious scent of spicy lamb skewers, with all the most perfect side dishes. I could feel my mouth water at just the mere sight of it all. Around the table stood each of my alpha's. I squirmed in Felix's hold who sat me down confused and a little worried. I quickly pecked his cheek as I went around giving each pack mate a quick kiss.

Without words I wanted them to know that I loved them, that I trusted them. I needed them to know that I didn't care they weren't there at the moment. Because they were there right now and that's all that mattered to me. They wouldn't let me get hurt again so this was okay.

I could feel them slowly relax with my actions, their emotions becoming softer more Lovey-dovey.

I quickly sat down in my normal seat, mall the alphas were quick to sit as close to me as possible. This the Betas were more than okay with after having spent the last half hour together. Immediately to my sides were Chan and Minho, while Changbin and Jeongin were next to them. Chan picked up and passed my plate to Jeongin who sat next to him. Jeongin filled my plate with a few good looking skewers. Minho grabbed my sides plate and had Changbin start putting on a few sides. Once they had filled it up Chan and Minho got to add a few more things as well. Till finally they were satisfied and placed my plates back in front of me.

This I smiled at and began to enjoy my meal, it was easy to notice all the pairs of eyes on me. I sighed in content at the taste of food as they watched me eat, they made sure to keep eating as well. I waited however until I had finished and was full before speaking.

"I guess you all want to know what happened today?" My voice was more timid than I initially intended it to be. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready to babygirl." Chan spoke first. The others readily agreeing with him.

I took a deep breath before beginning to tell them the whole story. All the way from the beginning so they would understand everything. From the agreement with Seungmin and Changbin about my shopping spree, to the moment they found me in the mall. I stopped there to allow them a moment to take it all in before continuing.

"When I was found I had fully regressed into the instinctual mindset I had back in my old pack. Where it was better to have no emotions than the wrong one at the wrong time. I haven't experienced something like that since leaving that place, but something today just set me back into that headspace. When that happens, if it ever happens again, I never talk unless told to. It will be hard to bring me up from it especially if I regress really far. The days were I would regress way to far, I actually would remember little to nothing about that day." looking around I could angry and sad faces.

In the silence I decided to crawl into Minho's lap, burying my face into his neck as I just breathed in his scent. I felt him hug me tightly as he breathed in mine too. He was first to speak, reassuring me of everything. "We will never let that bastard of a man get to you sweetheart. No matter what it takes you will be ours. We are mated for life, nothing will tear us apart. We love you too much for us to let you feel pain like this again." I heard agreement around the table as Changbin spoke next. "Seungmin and I will see to it that you get the best of the best bodyguards anytime we go out where there is a possibility he may be." Seungmin nodded to me. Then he spoke as well. "If you would like we can also teach you self defense or get you some self defense weapons." I nodded to him saying I would think about the offer.

Soon everyone was calming down, having talked everything out and understanding what had just taken place was good for us. So with my belly full and my mood back to it usual tranquil happiness. I got up dragging the two lead alpha's along. "Movie night with pack cuddles please." I spoke loudly. With that I heard everyone get up and begin cleaning the table off. While the two I had dragged behind me just laughed to themselves.

Chan picked me up seconds later, as he and Minho pecked my cheeks. This earned them a giggle as I returned the kiss to each of them before we finally descended into the pack nest room. I would set up the nest with the freshly scented blankets, furs and even pillows. The other two were to get a movie picked out and then help me finish the nest, before the rest of the pack would join and a soft fluffy movie night full of love and cuddles began.

Masterlist

[maxwell-mtv]

Introducing Joja Pink™️

[I've been brainstorming this since Spring, but I'll be diving my hand into the world of NSFW writing with my new AU. Introduction below the cut (there won't be any NSFW in it, that'll be purely on my AO3). The chapters will follow a general story plot but won't be plot heavy like my other fanfictions I'm writing. Think of it like self indulgence. Feel free to request any pairings, scenarios, etc, and I'll do my best (so long as it's nothing gross/illegal/ generally just awful) to write it when I have time away from my studies!]

NEW! Introducing Joja's new tonic for you! With refreshing bubbles and hints of rosemary and ginseng, Joja Pink™️ is the tonic we're sure everyone will love! Try it today from your local JojaMart! You'll do better with Joja :)

Joja Pink™️ is not to be ingested by anyone under the age of 21. Joja Corp is not liable for any adverse reactions from ingesting Joja Pink™️. If you believe that Joja Pink™️ may be causing a severe allergic reaction, we advise you wait 24 hours for symptoms to disperse before seeking medical attention.

Standing over a metal table, a final product was placed for display on a tray. Its curved bottle was slender and made from clouded glass which gave the illusion of it being filled with cherry clouds. The label was refined and determined to make any middle aged mom stop and fancy its features. In cursive lettering, framed by various pink petal decals it read:

Joja Pink The New Tonic For You

At the very bottom there was a warning that whatever fizzing liquid inside was intended for mature audiences, no younger than 21. 

It was a drink that was intended, to general audiences, for more feminine people seeking a healthier alternative to their infamous Joja Cola. It would surely give rise to a new audience of folks looking for a cheap, albeit refreshing, drink, exclusive to their stores alone.

Standing over the displayed prototype was a tall, young looking man. Brunette hair draped over his face, cupping the edges of his cheeks, and stopping at his ears. Glasses reflected the lights which cast a sinister shadow over his features. Reaching up to adjust his sights, he smirks. “So this is what you guys at the lab came up with?”

A slouched, disheveled looking man in a lab coat nodded. “Thanks to the folks in the design department, we’ve perfected the next product that will sell millions!”

“Is that so?” The younger man teases, circling the table to view the bottle at all dimensions without daring to touch it. “I guess this’ll do. I’ll let my superiors know you’ve done an acceptable job.”

The scientist backs nervously from the young man. “Th-There’s just one problem, sir.”

The younger man stops and cranes his neck to snarl at him. “What now?” He snaps.

“There are some adverse side effects...” The scientist manages.

“Are there really?” Coldly said, the young man lowers his face so the light no longer blinds his eyes from the scientist. “Shocking.” He retorts sarcastically. “If it’s like the last product, it doesn’t matter. Slap another warning label on and we’ll be exempt from legal action.”

“I-It’s not that simple sir! Surely with another trial run, I-I’ve created a less potent version which should resolve the effects of this one.”

“I don’t have more time. I have the COO and stakeholders breathing down my neck so this can be sold and served ASAP. It’s bad enough we’ve already had to delay its release from Spring to now!” The young man takes a moment and slumps, pinching the bridge of his nose as he collects his temper.

Shaking, the scientist holds out a thick folder containing a whole slew of papers, charts, and reports. “Mr. Dobson, surely if you just took a look at the test results you’d see why-”

“As if my time should be wasted on reading terminology that no one can understand but eggheads like you!” Snatching the folder up, he tucks it under his arm. Leaning in, he goes nose to nose with the poor, shaken older man. “If I scan this over and there is nothing about physical harm being done to those test subjects, I’ll have my lost hours of productivity compensated by comping your paycheck!”

Pulling back, Dobson circles the table once more. Standing before the drink, his confidence smirk returns. “Trust me, Dr. Wallace, you’re over thinking things again. Just as you did with Joja Bluu. And look how that went! We managed to turn it into a trendy craze amongst kids! We encouraged purchases for it by running competitions which never really had any payout to begin with! We rigged it, as we always do, so the people learn to love what we feed them.”

“B-B-Bu-But what about the kids who were hospitalized when they drank all those sodas!? Their skin permanently dyed a dark blue! No one should be ingesting more than one of those, let alone these,” he gestures to the pink bottle, “a week! The side effects will be chaotic and dangerous for any poor schmuck who plays into this latest scheme!”

“Dr. Wallace, might I remind you we’re not in this to make the world a better place!” Dobson scolds. “We’re in it for the chance at survival in a shrinking economy! With the war overseas, there’s never been a better time to thrive! Now,” Dobson strides to the exit, teasing a hand over the handle. “If I find out you put in a complaint against me or my approval of this drink, then I’ll have your job on the line too!”

Dejected, Dr. Wallace slinks back and bitterly eyes the bottle. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now send that approval report to me so I can forward it and get these things out by Friday. Releasing it while it’s still hot will do us justice.”

“Yes, sir…”

With that, the two men part, leaving only the future this drink had laid out for its unsuspecting victims.

…

Grunting, Shane drops another box marked “FRAGILE” on the linoleum floors of the JojaMart he was employed. Following him was another, younger man with spiked blond hair and a visible attitude for rebellion. “Can you believe they’re coming out with this now?” The young kid, Sam, speaks up as he dusts his palms off. 

“Yeah, I swear I was tripping when Morris announced this junk’s release again, but I guess they overshot their timing.” Shane responds gruffly, cutting open the box. Reaching in, he puts the first of many 4 packs of the newly produced bottles onto a display. Looking back and out at the nearby exit, he huffs. 

“Yeah, by two whole seasons! I heard from Martin that these babies were held back in the testing period. Something about ‘unforeseen side effects’.” Echoing Shane’s efforts, he began unpacking his own box onto the display table.

Shane scoffs, rolling his eyes. “What doesn’t cause some weird shit to happen when it comes from this shithole?”

“Easy now, last time I saw Morris he was working out where he could put the rest of these.” Sam glances around nervously before turning back to his work.

“Like I give a shit. If that old fart hears me, what’s he gonna do? Not like anyone else is dumb enough to work here...”

The redhead at the register several feet away huffs.

“Oh, hey Claire! I don’t think he meant you…” Sam attempts to defend Shane.

Looking over his shoulder at their only female coworker, Shane glares. “Yes I did.” He retorts and turns back to Sam, slamming another case onto the table. 

“Now let’s remember, folks, whatever you break while on the clock gets docked from your pay.” The chilling, condescending tone of their store manager makes Shane blanch. He can feel the man come closer from behind, stopping just a few feet away to better take a look at their progress. “Looky here, a fine display coming around from the both of you! I’m sure if we talk this thing up enough that it’ll sell like hot cakes!”

Shane turns to face his boss. “Considering how many chicks are in this town? I don’t doubt they’ll all flock to try this pink pony garbage.”

“Men can drink it too, you know.” Morris warns and leans over to slide a bottle from its cardboard corner cozy. “I’m trying it myself.”

“Oh? Far from you to like Joja Cola, sir.” Sam crosses his arms and eyes the cocky man with suspicion.

“Well, for one this isn’t a soda, it’s more of a seltzer. And for another, my managers have given all JojaMart managers the lucky chance to try it before it sells.”

“So what? It’s going on the floor today…” Shane remarks.

“Yes, I suppose I did hold off till the last minute.” Morris chuckles softly, glancing sheepishly to the side. “Well, anyhow, I should go. I have some reports to finish up.”

“Hey!” Shane calls, effectively stopping Morris in his tracks. “What are we s’posed to do with this case, huh? We can’t just sell it if it’s missing one!”

Morris’s smile grows, one could almost hear the bell go off in his head before he answered. “You’re right. Normally JojaMarts have more managers to share these sorts of deals with. However since I’m the only one and that’s going to just get written off during inventory anyway, why don’t you two boys have a riot and give some to your friends? Consider it a gift from your friends at Joja!” Gleaming, Morris marches right back to his office located at the front of the store.

The two men look between each other, the now shut door of Morris’s office, and the leftover bottles from the carrier. After a moment, Shane shrugs and waves Sam off. “Go ahead and take them. I only drink one kind of fizz made for adults…”

“Really!? Dude, this is the best day ever! You think Abigail would wanna try one of these?” Sam bounces with joy, taking one of the bottles in his hands and looking it over.

“How should I know? It’s not like I hang out with her…”

“You’re right, I’ll just find out tonight at the Saloon…”

“Good thinking. You know what else is good thinking?”

Sam tilts his head curiously. “Hm?”

“Me not being the only one to finish unpacking. Come on, man.”

“R-Right, sorry.”

[stxrvel]

we need to talk (5)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: bucky thought he'd had a good day, until some kind of information started to appear from every corner.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +2k

warning: some bad words and confusion

note: hello!! i had this chapter planned for about a month now, and really just had to polish some things so it could be published. i made some time into my night time to finish this writing and editing so i could published it soon, and it's finally done! im also half asleep bc it's past midnight and i have to wake up early tomorrow morning, so i hope you guys like this part! feedback is always appreciated!!💜

masterlist | next | series masterlist

Bucky didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that you had stood in front of him that morning and told him you were going for a walk around town, alone, just like that. As a good husband who went through a catastrophic event that almost made him lose the love of his life, he wanted to object, almost that his instincts begged him on its knees because he didn't want to risk losing sight of you in a place with so many possible dangers. But it was true that Bucky couldn't deny you anything, and even if he had tried it would have remained just that, an attempt. He just made sure to remind you to call him if anything happened.

And Bucky really wanted to stay true to his word not to follow you… Bucky really tried to stay seated in front of the big TV in front of his bed in one of the rooms in the Complex, with nice warm weather, soda and food on the nightstand, with the most comfortable pillows he could have ever touched…

But after all he had been through, he was no longer willing to take any chances.

So he left, within minutes of your departure, on tiptoe as if he were in a silent movie. He was trying not to intrude too much, just to look over his shoulder at you to make sure you were safe. Bucky knew you were capable of taking care of yourself if a dangerous situation had to arise, but he felt unable to just stay in the Complex waiting for you to arrive. It was what he had to do, but it wasn't what he wanted to do. And surely if you found out you would be angry, and Bucky would apologize for it, but he wouldn't regret it. He didn't like to think he would become that kind of person, but after the accident and spending over a year watching over you and making sure your surroundings were safe, it was hard to let go of that sense of security and give way to the uncertainty of the unknown.

He glanced at the time on his watch as you entered a sparsely populated coffee shop. It was already past five o'clock. He twisted his lips. He didn't think he was going to lose track of time. He had agreed with himself that morning not to go past three in the afternoon because Steve had asked him to meet him in the main room of the Complex to talk about something. He wasn't really specific about it, which he definitely had to have done to get his attention, only mentioning that Tony and Natasha would also be present. Looking at his watch, Bucky wondered if he'd really missed something important.

He sniffed around inside the cafeteria to find you sitting almost at the back of the store, with a muffin that appeared to be chocolate and a white milkshake on the table. You silently watched the table as you ate. You seemed to enjoy the little things in life. That brought a smile to his face.

It was then that he saw you pull your cell phone out of the brown trench coat you were wearing that day, one that Bucky had once given you.

You held your cell phone to your ear and Bucky was gnawing with curiosity as to who you were calling at that moment. Had you agreed to meet someone or…?

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he felt his cell phone vibrate inside his pocket. Why were you calling him? He frowned when he saw your name on the screen.

“Yes?” Bucky spoke as he answered.

“Are you just going to stand there for the rest of the afternoon?”

Bucky quirked his eyebrows. When he turned to peer inside the cafeteria, you were already looking at him. Bucky felt the heat rush across his face and a shiver run through his body, but he remained impassive. At what point had you noticed? He couldn't remember the last time something like that had happened to him when he was with you before the accident. Mind you, you were very good at controlling your environment. The poor guy tried to put that out of his head as too many memories of the past started bombarding him.

“Come in,” you spoke again before he could respond or think of anything else. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Bucky didn't grumble. Hanging up the call, he walked at a slyly agitated pace into the shop and approached at a steady pace towards where you were waiting for him. His eyes roaming the way your chin was resting on your interlocked hands, your elbows comfortable on the table, watching him approach as if he was the only person inside that coffee shop. Bucky felt his chest heaving.

“YN, I'm really sorry-”

“You don't have to apologize. Honestly, I was hoping you'd come.”

Even though he knew he should, Bucky hadn't expected that response. Smart girl.

“What? Really?”

“Mhm”

"Why?"

“I figured you couldn't help yourself.”

Bucky snorted barely audibly that, had he not had a woman with her full concentration on him, he surely wouldn't have noticed. He moved his eyes away from her, towards the wall with greenish paint on it, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he was glad to hear you brag as you did before.

“You guessed right.”

When Bucky came back to see you, you had a nice tight-lipped smile adorning your face. He wanted to believe that you had done all that drama all day just to have him as a baby duckling behind you, to admire from afar and know that you would have him by your side in less than a second if need be. But it was impossible for him to overlook the dark circles under your eyes. Bucky knows you so well, he knows you are a person whose dream is a saint. Having dark circles under your eyes that decorate the color of your skin is not something Bucky would stop paying attention to, even if he wanted to continue living in his little bubble.

“So what's that you want to talk about?”

You did not hesitate at his question, at the change of the subject. You were still in the same position, with your head on your hands and your gaze averted, immersed in various thoughts that Bucky wanted to dissipate like fog. What little sparkle your eyes had taken on during that short conversation had faded and given way to a strange sense of unease.

“Do you know if I… used to have powers?”

Bucky pondered your question far more than he would have liked to admit. He had imagined this conversation hundreds of times before, but come the moment in real life, face to face, it became much more unreal for those words to come out of your mouth than when they did inside his head. His face did not twitch or stutter as he responded. His expression only showed curiosity.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Why no one ever told me?"

The man took a deep breath.

“Well, I wanted to and had planned to. But the doctor who was treating you back then told me it was best to wait for you to recover the memories on your own. When that didn't happen, he told me to just find the best time to do it. Then, well, I guess I was still holding out a sliver of hope that you would remember something because every day I woke up expecting to hear you call me to tell me something. Evidently that didn't happen either. When I finally made the decision to tell you, the incident happened, and the next day you had no memory of anything.”

I was hoping you would remember.

“And now?“”

“Now… I hadn't thought about it too much these past few days, between the agitation of knowing what happened and the frustration of hopelessness. But I guess I was hoping for a good time, too. I'm sorry. You deserved to know.”

Forgetting wasn't an option, Bucky knew. And he wasn't going to blame you if you hated him for it now. It was something that was a part of you, a piece of your identity, and how he was able to overlook it was inconceivable. Before, maybe he could understand it, because the accident was so recent and forcing you to remember anything could have caused some permanent damage. After that, when you were beginning to be more open to him and seemed willing, the horrors began again. Bucky wanted to say that he had had an excuse, but the truth was that he had no right to keep that in his head…

“Don't worry.”

The man arched his eyebrows, but watching your expression he realized that he was giving the matter more thought than you should be doing. It seemed like you had barely even heard what he had said.

“Why do you ask?”

Silence answered his words. Bucky remained quiet, detailing the riddle you had for a face. He didn't know what that was all about. The walk, being waiting for him, that question about your powers? Something was definitely cooking, but unlike how Bucky thought the situation would be when it came about, you didn't seem too happy to find out.

“How do I know you're honest with me?”

That question caught him off guard. He even moved back a little, closer to the back of the chair, his face scowling.

“I'm always honest with you. I would never lie to you.”

“Under any circumstances?”

“No.”

“Not even for my own sake?”

“No. What's the point of this, YN?”

Bucky watched your chest constrict with each breath in. The atmosphere became tense from one moment to the next, so dense that he could almost feel the air choking him. He wanted to stay focused on the moment, but besides the suspense of the situation, he was disgruntled to think that you really had to deliberate so much in your mind to trust him…

“I think… I think I remembered something.”

The spasm that ran through his body felt like nothing compared to the short-circuit his head was going through. Had he really heard what he had just heard? He blinked shortly, a ringing in his ears becoming the great protagonist of that act, with a trembling body and a frightened mind. He was afraid to speak and the moment would slip through his fingers.

“What?” he barely mumbled.

“I think I had a memory, or two, but I'm not sure.”

“Why?”

Bucky watched you fidget anxiously on the chair, your gaze on anything, any object or person, but him. Your eyes were on everything but him.

“It didn't look like I was seeing it from my point of view. It looked like… a movie.”

Not letting fear dominate his body, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you intently. Your anxious movements gave away that what you were telling him had kept you awake, possibly, all night. And yet you waited so long to tell him.

“It was a place where, surely, there was a battle. And there was Natasha, Tony, Carol and Stephen Strange.”

“You know Strange?” Bucky frowned. He couldn't remember seeing him for months. Since the accident, rather.

“I saw him recently.”

Bucky nodded slightly, and made a mental note of it.

“Okay. So what was going on in the memories you saw?”

“First it looked like they were in the middle of the battle. Stephen, Natasha and Tony. But then it looked like it was all over, and there were all of them with Carol.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know if before my accident they all had a mission together?”

Bucky sighed, evoking. Before that accident happened, Bucky had spent a good bit of time in the medical wing. Before and during that situation, Bucky had an injury that kept him out in the field for quite some time, and because of that he missed quite a few things regarding the team. Of course, you were constantly keeping him informed, and the information from that day was definitely clear in his head still. Despite that, even though he knew he should remember, he still had questions about what had happened that day. He used to mix some memories of that day with memories of other days nearby, but some things he could remember clearly. He just had to strain a little to remember and…

“There were several occasions when a large group of the team had to leave at the same time. And the people you mention are very few. There were probably more people.”

“But I didn't see anyone else.”

Bucky sighed. Your disgruntled face filled all his worries and his instincts were geared to get rid of that excess stress on your face. Bucky didn't like to talk about that day anymore, but he didn't plan on keeping anything from you from now on.

“The last time they went out on a mission, which was the time you had the accident, it was Steve, Tony, Natasha, Wanda, Clint, Carol and they called in Strange as backup.”

“You didn't go?”

Bucky shook his head.

“I'd been hurt. Shoulder. It wasn't too serious, healed soon after. But the recommendation was harsh: no missions. So I couldn't go on that one.”

Then, finally, you could look him in the eye. Bucky felt the fog lifting and could see more clearly. Your silence accompanied him in his torment and in his haystack of memories. He wanted to know what was going through your head as you had such a sweet, soft expression unlike how you had been just seconds ago when you murmured, “Maybe it was for the best.”

Heart afloat, Bucky shook his head slightly.

“Do you think your memory is about that last mission?”

Your eyes were still on his, and they stayed that way for another couple of seconds until the fog flooded back into his field of vision.

“Maybe… in the memory they were talking about something that had gone wrong.”

“The accident.”

“Yes. But if that was the case, then it's not my memory, is it?”

Right. Bucky now understood why you were hesitating so much between all your words. You were walking on too unfamiliar ground.

“Ah, I understand. That's why you doubted it was a memory.”

“Yes! Because it doesn't make sense for me to remember something I wasn't present for, if at the time all that was happening I was hurt.”

“Definitely. But then how did that come to you?”

Bucky noticed the doubt on your face, as crystalline as the gleam of glass.

“YN, did something else happen?”

“I told you I saw Strange. The day I met him, I had those images in my head. He just walked past me, but it was as if his gaze triggered everything that happened afterwards.”

“So he caused this.”

“I think so.”

Bucky nodded, but he sensed there was more to it, the way you pursed your lips, fidgeted on the chair, and avoided his gaze. You'd been doing all that for as long as you'd been telling him things, but when you finally told him something, at the end, he could stare at you, and that's when Bucky knew you'd gotten it all out. But now…

“We need to talk to them, then.”

“What?”

“Let's go and talk. Surely there's a reason behind that.”

“But what if they're lying? What if they wouldn't have done it with a good intention?”

“I don't think so. I mean, I've known them for quite a while and I know the relationships you had with them, and I know they wouldn't do anything on purpose to hurt you.”

Bucky noticed the glint of fear in your eyes and it was contagious. He doubted his own words then. There was something else…

“Y/N-”

He moved his hands from his lap, where he kept them constantly hidden, and tried to bring them closer to yours on the table, but your reflexes were more skillful and before you could have any hint of contact, you disappeared from his physical field. Unable to keep your gaze on his, Bucky understood that he should not insist any longer. He leaned back on the chair again and waited for something… anything.

“I'll think about it.”

“YN…”

“I'm going now. You don't have to follow me, it won't be long before I'm back at the Complex.”

“Hey,” Bucky couldn't stop his mouth, but when he caught your attention and your eyes were on his, he didn't risk stopping. “You know you can trust me, right? Of all the people on this planet, you can trust me with anything. I know you don't remember anything about me or what we went through together, but I swear I'm willing to do anything, anything at all, if you only ask. I'm on your side, always, that's never going to change, okay?”

Bucky still saw the haze, but he felt hopeful. A slight nod from you without looking away was more than enough answer for all his inner doubts.

Within seconds, you left the cafeteria.

-

Bucky soon returned to the Complex after that talk, increasingly eager to confront Steve. He had more questions than he should have, although the information you had shared with him was not in the big picture a great revelation.

Except for Stephen Strange. That was unusual.

Steve Rogers was right where he said he would be waiting for him at three o'clock that day. Next to him, Natasha Romanoff sprawled over part of the L-shaped couch in the middle of the large room of the Complex. Bucky barely caught a glimpse of Steve's shoulders moving before he acknowledged his presence.

“Bucky,” his friend greeted him, turning around to observe him. Natasha from her position raised her head, and straightened up on the seat in quick movements.

He walked a little further into the room, with the gaze of his two friends of work on him, watching him so carefully that he soon felt like a cornered gazelle.

No. No, no, no, no, no. The ones who should be cornered should have been them.

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

Steve shared a none-too-disguised complicit look with Natasha before answering:

“Well, we could wait until we're complete to start-”

“I don't care that Stark isn't here. You are here. So tell me,” Bucky retorted, clasping his hands. “What did you guys want to talk about?”

He stressed each word heavily, reminding them that he was a man of little patience at the right times.

“It's a touchy subject,” in that moment, Natasha spoke up.

“All the more reason you should start talking.”

“Bucky, believe me, it's better if we're all.”

“I'm having a little trouble doing that, Steve.”

Bucky didn't do much to disguise the anger he felt at the confusion, because somehow he felt that what you had told him and what Steve had wanted to tell him were things that were better understood if he put them together. Whatever these people were willing to tell him, it definitely had to be related to what had happened to you. Steve didn't usually treat any subject with such diplomacy. And, if it was about you, it was clear that it wasn't just any subject.

“Why are you talking like that?” Steve stood up, his wary gaze on Bucky's angry face.

“Stop deflecting the subject. You hadn't made such a big deal about this meeting when you told me about it this morning. Was it always this important or did it only become relevant during the last few hours?”

“It was always important,” Steve nodded, his breathing heavy in time with his partner.

“You have no reason to be angry right now, Barnes.”

Why the fuck do they say things like that?

Natasha's voice, folded arms sitting on the armrest of the couch, brought back memories of one of the most horrible moments of his life.

“And you guys have no reason to be acting this suspicious, but see yourselves.”

“We're not acting-”

“Drop it,” Bucky interrupted Steve, and shifted his body to head for the exit of the room. “Better call me when you want to talk about something serious, like adults.”

And Bucky thought he could leave that there, maybe the subject would die and in time he'd realize he wasn't right. And it would be the first time he'd be happy he'd been wrong about something.

But the red and blue flashes that appeared in front of him as he was about to leave the room made him wish he wasn't so quick to claim victory.

Strange was standing in front of him, right at the exit of the room. His arms were crossed over his chest and his gaze was fixed on the man who continued to clasp his hands.

“He already knows,” Stephen spoke up, “Or at least part of it.”

Bucky felt a chill run through his body, not as welcome as the one he felt when you told him you'd remembered something.

“I don't want you going near her again,” Bucky almost growled through his teeth.

“Or what, Barnes, you'll stop me with your little metal hand?”

“Strange,” Natasha raised her voice.

Alluded barely let out a short laugh.

“I'm trying to help her.”

“Well, it's backfiring on you.”

“Does she remember what happened?” Steve walked over to Bucky, who gave him barely a sidelong glance.

“What the heck happened?”

Steve pursed his lips, and again shared that weird look with the other two present. Bucky was starting to get too exasperated and soon he wouldn't have as much patience and would have any more stuck up courage to take it anymore.

“I think you need to sit down to hear this.”

It was Carol Danvers who spoke, no doubt. Behind his back was her, surely with a river of people that Bucky had no desire to face at the moment. He didn't like the pace this situation was taking, nor the pace the day had taken. Why couldn't he stay in on a quiet afternoon, sipping vanilla milkshakes with chocolate muffins? Why was the world constantly taking pains to snatch away any hint of happiness from him?

“I think you've been wondering a lot of things about what happened that day for a while now,” Carol spoke again, and though Bucky really didn't want to face what seemed to be about to happen, he turned around to look at the blonde who was talking to him, with several people now filling the room.

He didn't even have to name them. He just had to remember that day, and remember how the names of each of them had come out of your mouth that day. The day that, unbeknownst to him, would be the last day he would share with his old friend joy.

“Sit. Let's talk.”

----

n/a. thank u all for reading! hope u have a great day wherever you are <3

Taglist: @cjand10 @yallgotkik @ruffdog921 @coracal @its-just-kayy @pono-pura-vida @vampiresarezombies @kaz11283 @vicmc624

[badsansandstarsansticklestuff]

I am surprisingly still not dead

Undertale AU tickle fic

Characters: Horror x Dust (ship)

Context: Dust has been saying terrible puns all day and Horror is tired

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

The day has been long, Horror and Dust were both sent on a mission to gather food and medical supplies, Killer couldn't come with them as he was still hurt from the previous mission, hence the need for medical supplies. They needed to be quiet and discreet, they didn't want the Star Sanses to show up, they were only two and they really didn't need anyone else to be hurt.

But the problem was.. Dust was feeling chatty this day, in a mood for puns, which really didn't help Horror concentrate. He would make jokes and puns all day, they almost got caught because of him ! It was a miracle when they came back in the castle without fighting. Horror was pissed.

- Boss, we have what you asked for.

- Good, thank you Horror. You can put it on the table I'll take care of the rest.

Horror gave the supplies to his superior and left, not wanting to bother him as he was healing his co-worker. He went straight to his room, needing some well-earned rest. He landed flat on his bed.

- Hey Horror I got a new joke for you, you're gonna like it !

Said an eager Dust as he walked in his co-worker's room. Horror sighed in frustration, couldn't he be alone juste one minute ?

He watched as Dust closed the door behind him and went closer to the bed.

- Okay so it goes-

He was cut in his sentence as two strong arms pulled him against Horror's chest.

- H-Horror ?

As previously stated, Horror was pissed and tired.

- You want to laugh, huh ? That's what you want ? Fine, I'll give you something to laugh at !

Dust was suddenly very nervous as he tried to escape the bigger's grip but damn, Horror was really strong !

- C-can we talk about it ?

- I don't think so, no.

Dust had a very bad feeling when he felt Horror's hands on his ribcage, and that feeling got confirmed when these same hands started squeezing his ribs, sending him into a pit of laughter. Dust always put on a tough appearance under his hood, like nothing could get a reaction out of him, but the truth was very humiliating: to get any reaction you simply had to tickle him a little, because under all these layers Dust was actually pretty ticklish... and Horror knew that very well.

- W-WAHAIT !

But Horror didn't wait, he was mad and wouldn't stop until he was satisfied. He kept squeezing and scratching his victim's poor ribs as he was trying to escape, kicking his legs to no avail and trying to grab his tormentor's hands.

- The more you move the longer it will last.

Dust flinched at these words and immediately tried not to move, but it was hard, very hard, as he really wanted to escape this torture. His legs were shaking as he tried to hold them in place, trying not to move his arms either, his hands firmly gripped on Horror's arms. His face was a bright purple, he hated being tickled, he hated how vulnerable it made him, how he was reduced to a laughing mess, unable to defend himself or even use his magic properly. But it was Horror, and he did have a pretty massive crush on him, so maybe this proximity wasn't that bad, maybe he could handle it a little if it meant being against his chest...

But it was still torture, and even more when Horror lowered his hands to attack his sides, making him arch his back so violently that he was pretty sure he heard a crack.

- YOHOHOHUHU SAID YOUHUHUHU'LL STOHOHOHOP !!

Dust screamed.

- I said it would be longer if you moved, I didn't say I would stop.

Dust blushed more, if it was possible, very embarrassed by the whole situation. He felt tears starting to form in his eye sockets and soon running down his cheeks. He couldn't take it anymore, it was way to much for him to handle.

- PLEHEHEHAHAHSE STOHOHOHOHOP !!

He was reduced to begging. What a shame.

- Only if you promise to stop with your puns for today and let me sleep.

Dust quickly nodded his head.

- I PROHOMIHIHIHISE !

Horror pretended to think for a moment, just to tease Dust a little, then finally stopped his assault on the poor skeleton's belly, letting him catch his breath.

Dust was exhausted, this tickle session sucked out all of his energy. Horror let him go to lay down on his bed again, closing his eyes, hoping not to be interrupted again. He opened his eyes again when he felt a hand pushing his shoulder.

- What ? You want more ?

He asked looking at Dust, who was blushing.

- Can-can I sleep with you.. ?

Horror arched an eyebrow before shrugging and moving to the side to make enough space for Dust.

- Don't make any noise.

- Y-yeah...

He didn't plan on making any noise, he had been tickled enough for at least three month. He laid down next to the bigger skeleton, still blushing a little, and closed his eyes, soon drifting into a peaceful sleep, rapidly imitated by Horror...

- end -

[xiiideadroses]

HAUNTED | Eyeless Jack x Ghost!OC

He really shouldn't have been so afraid of a little ghost problem. He was a demon, after all. What was the worst that could happen?

Eyeless Jack wasn't afraid of anything. He could look the Slenderman dead in the face unflinchingly, and he could face-tank whatever punishment he'd be given afterwards, but when it came to paranormal activity, he couldn't brave it. He wouldn't say he was afraid of ghosts, he would never hear the end of it from Jeff if he did, but he couldn't deny how uneasy it made him when he'd be given evidence of the paranormal. Be it something rather tame, like noticing how things were missing and hearing footsteps when he couldn't sense anyone else within a five mile radius, or something more obscure, like the time he saw a few of his heaviest medical books floating in the air only to come crashing down when he opened the door.

He wasn't scared of anything, but he'd be lying if he said all the obvious signs pointing to paranormal activity didn't freak him out. He had tried consulting BEN on the matter, considering he was a poltergeist himself and likely had more information on the subject, but the blonde was about as useful as his gallbladder when it came to helping him find a solution. He was lucky the little rat didn't start running around laughing about it, but Eyeless Jack was certain there had to be a better method than creating a circle of salt around his room to trap the ghost in and hoping it would make itself known.

"Come on," BEN had laughed, shaking a cylindrical salt canister back and forth in front of Jack's face. "It's the only way to catch a ghost, bro. You wanna be a ghostbuster so bad? Whip out the salt."

BEN annoyed him, but he at least made an effort to give him a solution. He was quick to swipe the salt from his hand before expelling BEN from the premises, though he swore he could still feel his beady, ghostly eyes watching him curiously from afar. It made him uneasy, but he didn't stop to think about what he was doing. Instead, he flipped open the spout, and carefully, he sprinkled a little around the edges of his room, forming a circle with as much space as he could. He wasn't generous with it and used as little as he had to in order to form a clean shape, but when the task was done, the once full canister felt suspiciously empty.

He decided to ignore his suspicions, quite honestly fed up to the point he no longer cared to question anything. He was having some paranormal problems, so he figured he wouldn't understand anything, and if he did, then it was probably a trick. He would be suspect of everything, until he got rid of the ghost -- if it would be willing to listen, after all. He wasn't really in a situation to call an exorcist as a demon himself, so he had to hope it would take a bribe or bargain to finally leave him alone.

Jack was methodical as he moved, swiftly shutting the container of salt and setting it on his desk before he stepped to the center of his room. He felt a cold chill run up his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck raising, and he straightened his posture. He felt like he wasn't alone, but as he looked around his room, he saw nothing more than his own shadow.

"Are you here?" He lamely asked, his lips pulling into a taut, unimpressed frown. He wouldn't be surprised if BEN had lied, but then again, he didn't make any effort to ensure the ghost's presence before making a ring of salt around his room. He felt a little bit like a fool, but he had given it an attempt. He'd try a séance next time, something even more traditional than salt.

He didn't receive an answer. He waited for five minutes, but the only thing he heard was the soft ticking of his clock as the seconds passed by. A soft sigh left his lips, and he lowered his head. He didn't know what he expected.

Annoyed, he sat himself down on the foot of his bed, exasperatedly flopping backwards and staring at the ceiling. He hissed in pain and arched upwards, however, when he realized he'd laid back on his mask. He cursed and turned his head, looking behind him and sitting up to move his mask, but in the process, his gaze locked on his mirror.

He didn't know if he was seeing things, but in the reflection, he could see a girl sitting on his bed, blocking most of the view of himself. She was very lacking in color -- her skin was white, her hair was white, and so was her outfit, which consisted of a peasant top, an underbust corset, and a long, modest skirt. She had her head turned around, like she was looking at him, and she was sitting on her left leg, perched at the very edge of his bed.

Eyeless Jack blinked once, then twice, and he no longer cared about the uncomfortable feeling his mask had left on his back. He looked between his bed and the mirror as he came to the conclusion that while he couldn't see her in front of him, he could still see her reflection. He wasn't sure if she knew, but-

"You finally noticed?" Her voice was as ghastly as she looked, fitting for a ghost, but it sounded raspy, like she had just woken up. She turned her head, moving slowly, and she looked into the mirror to meet his eyes. She had a weird expression on her face, with her brows pinched together and a lopsided smile, but something about her was ethereal. "Your mirror is my Achilles heel. You've been able to see my reflection the whole time."

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. The only other ghosts he had spoken to were BEN and Sally, but they were both children, and she looked to be a young adult. The fact made him feel for her because he also died, in a way, when he was a young adult. Maybe she'd be easy to relate to.

"I don't usually use it," he muttered, and the ghost hummed softly. He didn't know what he wanted to say, but he criticized himself for uselessly standing around instead of planning out his speech before he noticed her. He was slightly relieved when she took it upon herself to keep talking.

"You know salt is just going to keep me here, right? It won't get rid of me?" She laughed, the sound like autotuned chimes. She shook her head, her grey eyes flitting to his eyeless gaze in the mirror.

She didn't seem to care about what he looked like, but he felt so naked with her playful gaze drilling holes into his. He cleared his throat and quickly put his mask on, trying his best not to look at her, but there was a weird tension starting to form between them as he hid himself. Jack had always been awkward in social situations, but he tried to tell himself that he had the power here. He was the one to trap her in with him so he could meet her, after all.

"Yes. I'm not trying to expel you, but I do want to... understand, I suppose, and I would like to come to an agreement of sorts with you," Jack explained, watching her reactions in the mirror. She only frowned, but she raised her chin in interest, curiously turning so she could look directly at him. Habitually, he did the same, but the only thing he saw was the impression of her weight on his mattress.

He heard her huff before witnessing her materialize before him, spotting into existence and slowly appearing right in front of him. He realized then just how frail and small she looked in comparison to him. It was harder to tell from her reflection, but her clothing looked too big for her body, yet it was cinched where it didn't loosely hug her so it would stay up. Her cheeks looked slim and she had bags under her eyes, looking a bit neglected if anything, but totally normal otherwise. He also noticed the giant scar on the left side of her face, which looked like a giant road rash. What he didn't notice, however, was how her reflection disappeared as she made herself visible in front of him.

"Stop talking like that," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "You sound weird. You don't talk to anyone else like that."

He cluelessly frowned, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. He muttered an awkward apology under his breath, but he didn't want to be seen as weak or vulnerable, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Right. Uh, I want you to stop haunting me. I get that you're a ghost, it's what you do, but I'm a demon. You can't just do that to me," Jack started, and she hummed.

She looked contemplative, taking his words into consideration and weighing her options before she shrugged her shoulders with a cheeky smile on her lips. "Yeahhh, no. Do you even know how hauntings work?" She seemed offended, not giving him time to answer her before she continued, head tilting as she rolled her eyes. "It's like -- the only way to permanently end it, y'know, is to either kick the bucket or get yourself a priest to bless you. We can't control this, it kinda just happens, because believe me, I'd choose to haunt someone else if I could 'cuz you're a pretty damn boring individual, but-"

He didn't know why her words offended him so much, as they meant little to nothing to him, but he interrupted her with a scoff, "Rude."

The ghost curled her hands into fists and brought them to the corners of her eyes, her lips pressing into a pout so she could mimic a baby crying. "Wah, wah, wah. It's true: from what I've observed, the only things you do are sit around reading your medical books or reorganizing your jars of hearts, or whatever," she sneered, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly and letting her hands fall back to her lap.

Jack sucked in a sharp breath and grit his teeth. He knew a lot of ghosts tended to be mischievous and playful, but she was just being brutal. It wasn't like she was wrong, though he was getting frustrated with her disrespect.

"That... doesn't help at all. I asked you to stop haunting me, not critique what I choose to do with my life," he grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest. He moved so he would be facing her, sitting with one of his long legs bent and tucked in front of him whilst he stretched the other over the edge of his bed.

He noticed how she watched him move, leaning back as her eyes fell to his lower body before returning to his. She kept her head lowered, looking up at him between her spidery white eyelashes, and she argued, "Yeah, that's because you interrupted me, duh. As I was explaining, though -- ghosts can't really choose who they haunt, you know. We just mess with some poor, unfortunate soul, drive 'em crazy, and sometimes attach ourselves to them, which is when the haunt begins. Do you follow?"

A small, sly smile formed on her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. He had a sinking feeling in his gut about what she was implying, but he tried not to jump to conclusions. He was in denial, but he slowly nodded his head, and she continued: "Yeah. So, like, take a guess what happened here! Honestly, I'm a little embarrassed, but I could use some entertainment. It's been fun watching you try not to psyche yourself out for the past few weeks, even if you're a total social recluse and have no friends for me to mess with, too."

Jack tried to process what she was saying, but her insults kept distracting him. He huffed and shook his head, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. His head fell and he caught himself with his hands, his dark grey fingers curling into his messy brown tresses. He could feel himself stressing out, but he didn't want her to feel like she'd won, so he chose to brush off her rude comments.

"So, what you're saying is... you're haunting me, and neither of us can do anything about that until I die, or deal with a priest?" EJ asked, and the ghost nodded her head, her wavy white hair bouncing with the motion.

"Yup!" She answered, her sharp teeth on display as she impishly giggled. She didn't seem to care much about the implications of her words, but to him, it sounded like he'd unwillfully been married off to someone. "Finally figured it out, did you?" She cooed, and she leaned forward. He tilted his head up, watching her carefully, but she didn't stop herself even after his warning glare. She reached towards him and ruffled his hair like an affectionate dog owner, and he growled lowly, reacting almost instantly by snapping up and grabbing her wrist.

For a moment, she seemed shocked, her eyes wide as saucers and reminiscent of the full moon as she blinked owlishly up at him, and then she laughed. His hand tightened around her wrist, his sharp nails pressing into her unrealistically soft skin, but she didn't seem at all intimidated. Instead, she seemed more than amused, and she brought her other hand to his, running her thumb over his fingers. He loosened his grip, but she didn't let him pull away.

"Oh, wow. It's weird being touched by someone... I didn't think you'd have the balls to do that, I'm not gonna lie," she snickered. She wasn't taking him seriously, and that was obvious. She was unafraid of his physical strengths, which typically did him a good job of intimidating others to get his way, but he had forgotten that she was a ghost, and that she was likely letting him hold her wrist because it was entertaining watching him try.

He sighed, feeling a bit powerless. He was frustrated because he didn't know what more he could do, but now that he had at least some information, he could further plan out how he wanted to move forward.

Jack let go of her wrist, and she withdrew her arm slowly, holding her hand up like it was alien. Her other hand's fingers danced over where his had been curled around her limb, intensely looking over her hand in a trance with stars in her eyes. She acted so tough for someone who got so invested in little things like that.

"Sooo... since we're stuck together, do you have a name?" He asked, trying to cut the awkward silence that had fallen between them. She didn't answer for a few moments, and he thought she didn't hear him, so he parted his lips to repeat the question, only for her to cut in.

"Carrie," she answered, turning her hand over and looking at her unscathed skin. "And yours is Eyeless Jack, isn't it? But you go by EJ, or Jack, don't you?" Phrased like questions, but stated like she knew the answers already. She probably knew a lot more about him than she was letting on, which unnerved him. He didn't know how long she'd been haunting him, or how much she knew about him.

"Yes. You could've let me introduce myself, though," he nagged, but she only rolled her eyes. Finally, she looked at him again, but something in her eyes looked different.

"But that would've been boring," she mused, laughing once again. "And I just hate boring, EJ. So, I hope for your sake that you'll be able to shape up in time to entertain me before I get bored of you."

Her words sounded like a threat, delivered in the tone of playful banter as she booped the nose of his mask. He leaned back and scoffed, choosing to not get the clarification of what she meant, and he crossed his arms. He couldn't believe he was about to become the marionette of a pretentious ghost.

"I guess this really backfired on you, huh?" Carrie taunted, suddenly standing up and swiftly spinning herself around the long way to face him. She leaned forward, almost over him, and held herself up on his thighs, her face only a few inches from his. "Oh, and by the way, EJ -- you know it does have to be a circle to be effective, right? You're bad at basic geometry for someone with a doctorate."

Jack's personal space felt non-existent at that point, so he just ignored her, figuring she just wanted a reaction out of him. He tried not to let it bother him, but thus far, she'd only proved to be annoying as all hell and frustrating to talk to. Talking to her was like talking to a brick wall; she didn't listen to a thing he said, making sure she got her way and that was that. He regretted opening this can of worms.

"Gee, thanks. I'll keep that in mind for next time," he sarcastically muttered, crossing his arms and leaning back so he'd feel less suffocated by her closeness.

"Oh, no need! I'd still be here either way! You can't really keep me in or out with one of those silly little circles if I'm attached to you specifically, genius," she hummed. She didn't seem to get the hint by him moving away, a devilish grin highlighting the mischievous glow in her eyes as she slowly walked fingers up his chest, stopping at his sternum and jabbing him with her forefinger. "Just so you know, it's quite easy to get in and out of those circles when you exist on multiple planes of reality all at once. All I have to do is stay off the physical while moving around it and I'll be fine."

And just like that, any hope he had of having some form of control over her slipped through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. A defeated sigh left his lips, and he felt her move away from him. He looked up at her, or rather where she'd been, only to see his headboard and the wall behind her. He glanced in his mirror, and there, he saw her again. He couldn't hear her like he could before, but he saw her move like she was chuckling, and this time, she winked at him before disappearing from the reflection, too.

EJ wasn't sure what to make of her, or what had just happened, but he knew he had to take his mind off of it before it drove him crazy trying to rationalize any of it.

He sighed, standing up and grabbing his scalpel from his desk. He pocketed it quickly and exited his room, but as he stepped past the door, he noticed that the salt he'd spilled in a loose rounded square around his room's perimeter no longer marked the carpet. He assumed it was her doing, and that she'd somehow managed to clean it up without him noticing.

How peculiar.

[comfortjoonie]

MOONCHILD: THE JOURNEY CHAPTER TWO

ok so i've officially decided to make Namjoon's pregnancy a series! here's chapter one: chapter one

I hope you guys enjoy!!

TW: Pregnancy, hospitals, emeto

The whole car ride, Namjoon is silent and far too pale.  He’s holding his stomach with his head resting against the window.  Yoongi’s hand is on his shoulder, telling him how much longer it’ll be until they’re at the hospital every few minutes.  When they pull up in the parking lot, Yoongi has to help his husband out of the car and into the waiting room where he sits down.  Yoongi checks him in, and only five minutes later they’re given a private room and told the doctor will be in shortly.

Namjoon looks exhausted in his hospital bed.  The fatigue is no joke during his first trimester, and all the vomiting makes it worse.

A male doctor walks in with a bright smile at the two of them.  “What brings you here today?” he asks.

“It’s my husband,” Yoongi says.  “He’s nine weeks pregnant now and he’s just been vomiting every day.”

“Alright.  So morning sickness is pretty typical for pregnancy,” the doctor says.

“He’s been sick all day, every day,” Yoongi says.  “It’s more than just morning sickness.”

“Namjoon, how bad would you say the nausea is when you’re not vomiting?” the doctor asks.

“Bad,” Namjoon says.

“He’s been losing a lot of weight.  He hasn’t been able to work out at all,” Yoongi says.

“It sounds like hyperemesis to me.  I can give you some medication and if you’d like, we can keep him here today for IV fluids.  But I believe that the medication will bring him enough comfort to drink and eat.  Besides that, I’d just try to wait the sickness out until the second trimester starts.”  The doctor smiles.  “Would you like to stay and have fluids today?”

Namjoon shakes his head before Yoongi can say anything.  “No, thank you.  I’d like to go home.”

“Great.  I’ll get some medicine from the pharmacy, then.”  The doctor leaves, and Namjoon sighs.

“Namjoonie, why would you refuse?”

“Hyung, I hate hospitals.  I don’t want to stay here any longer.  The medicine should help, anyways, right?”  Namjoon asks.

“I…yes, Joonie, but I’m still worried about you.  I know I wasn’t born with the ability to carry and I don’t know much about pregnancy, but this really doesn’t seem normal to me.”

“It’ll all work out in the end, hyung,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.  The doctor returns with two boxes of medicine.

“I’ll give you one of these now.  Just take one whenever you start to feel like you might be sick.  Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve.”  Namjoon sighs in relief.  He’s been terrible at swallowing pills this pregnancy.  It makes him so much more nauseous.  A tablet like this is much better.  “Now, I don’t recommend taking these first thing in the morning.  They probably won’t be able to stop morning sickness, but later in the day, like after lunch, you can start taking them,” the doctor instructs.

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, grabbing the boxes bowing to him.

“No problem.  If this continues, talk to your regular doctor and see what she can do to help.  You’re free to go home now.”

—-------

When Namjoon and Yoongi arrive at the dorms, the others are waiting by the front door for them.  Namjoon brushes past them and goes to his room.  He still feels nauseous, but not like he’s going to throw up instantly.

“What happened, hyung?” Hoseok asks while Yoongi sets down his stuff.  Yoongi said he wouldn’t tell the others, but he’s having a hard time lying to them.

“We went to the hospital.  Joon hasn’t been able to keep barely anything down these past couple of days.”

“Oh, no.  Poor Joonie,” Jimin says softly.

“The doctor gave us some medicine, but I’m not sure it’ll work.  I think for today I’ll just let him rest.  What time is the photoshoot tomorrow?”

“10 AM,” Jin says.  “Do you think he can make it?”

“I’ll talk to him in the morning,” Yoongi says.  “He’ll probably want to push through, but I’m not sure that it’s what’s best.  His hiatus is announced tomorrow, so it’s not that big of a deal if he misses the photoshoot.”

“We don’t want to leave him here all by himself, though, do we?” Jin asks, and Yoongi sighs.

“I don’t know.  I mean, the fans don’t know anything yet.  They don’t even know Namjoon and I are married.  They didn’t even know we started dating five years ago.  So it’s not like I can stay back with him.  They’d get suspicious if two of us were missing again.”  Yoongi sighs.  “We’ll just take this one step at a time.  For now, we should have lunch.”

All the members nod and resume whatever they were doing before they realized Namjoon and Yoongi were gone – Jungkook and Taehyung playing a video game, Jin cooking lunch, and Hoseok and Jimin reading books on the chairs.

Yoongi goes to his and Namjoon’s room to check on the younger.  Namjoon is curled up on his side of the bed, looking way better than before but still a little pale.

“How are you feeling, Joonie?” Yoongi asks.

“A little better,” Namjoon responds.  Yoongi gives Namjoon a kiss on the forehead.

“You look better than before, honey.  Your face isn’t so pale.”  Namjoon nods a little.

“I still feel a little nauseous.  Just not like I’m going to throw up anymore.”

“That’s better.  Seokjin-hyung is making lunch for us.  He’s almost done.  Are you gonna come out or do you want me to bring the food in here for you?”

“I’ll come out.  I don’t want anyone to be worried,” Namjoon says.

“Do you need help standing up?” Yoongi asks.

Namjoon stands up by himself in response.  Together, the two of them walk back to the dining room, where Seokjin is putting out the bowls of soup.  Namjoon’s nose wrinkles at the smell.

He sits down and takes a bite.  As always, Seokjin’s cooking is delicious.  “Thank you, hyung,” he says, and Seokjin smiles back at him.

A conversation starts between the six members that aren’t Namjoon, and he listens attentively as he eats his soup more.  He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and he eats it all too fast before it starts to hurt his stomach.  It cramps, and he hisses and grimaces.  “Hyung?” Jungkook asks.  “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine – my stomach is just bothering me,” he responds, putting a hand over the small bump.

“Do you need to throw up?” Seokjin asks.  He’s seen plenty of Namjoon being sick these past weeks, and he’s ready to take the younger to the bathroom at any time necessary.

“No.  It’s fine.”

“We heard you had to go to the hospital, Joonie.  Are you feeling a little better now?” Hoseok asks.  Yoongi curses under his breath.  He’d forgotten to tell the others not to tell Namjoon they knew about the hospital.

“You told them?” Namjoon asks his husband, betrayal in his eyes.

“I…had to, Joonie.  I wasn’t going to lie to them.”

“I hate you!” Namjoon shouts, getting up and leaving the table.  Yoongi sighs.  He knows Namjoon doesn’t mean it.  It’s just the hormones.  But he still hates making his husband feel upset.

Namjoon already has tears in his eyes as he’s running back to the bedroom, but he doesn’t pay attention to the clothes that Jungkook left on the ground in the hallway.  Before he can get around them, he slips, twisting his ankle harshly.  He hears a loud cracking sound and cries out in pain, silently wishing for Yoongi to come help him up.  He already feels terrible for lashing out.  The pain shoots up his leg.  It’s worse than the last time he sprained his ankle.  He pulls up his pant leg and nearly vomits at the sight.  His ankle is twisted to the side and already swelling up.  He wants Yoongi.  The pain is just getting worse by the second.  He can’t walk all the way back down the stairs and to the dining room now.  Then he realizes Yoongi probably doesn’t even want to talk to him right now.  He drags himself to their bedroom and is able to get on the bed through the pain.

Yoongi feels awful.  He knows he shouldn’t have said anything.  But he couldn’t lie to his members.  Not even for Namjoon.  He needs to go check on him.

“I’m gonna go check on Namjoonie,” Yoongi says, standing up.  He walks up the stairs and avoids Jungkook’s clothes on the ground.  The door to their bedroom is wide open and he can instantly tell something is wrong.  Namjoon is lying on the bed, breathing heavily.  He’s in pain.  “Joon?” Yoongi asks softly.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon cries.  “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, Joonie.  I know it’s just the hormones.  What’s wrong?”  Namjoon points down to his left ankle.  Yoongi gasps.  “Joonie, we need to go to the hospital.”  Namjoon’s ankle is misshapen, swollen, and bruised.  Namjoon shakes his head.

Jungkook appears in the doorway.  “I heard Namjoon crying.  What’s wrong?” he asks, then sees Namjoon’s ankle.  “Oh, crap.  Hyung, we need to get him to the hospital,” he says.

“Can you carry him?”

“On my back?  I don’t want to press against his stomach too much.  I don’t want to hurt the baby,” Jungkook says.

“It’ll be fine,” Yoongi says.  Jungkook comes over to the bed and stands in front of it, Yoongi lifting Namjoon onto the maknae’s back.

“I’m going to go slowly, hyung,” Jungkook says, holding Namjoon’s legs.  He walks down the stairs as carefully as possible, Yoongi following him.  They pass through the dining room, and Seokjin stands up.

“What’s going on?”

“He broke his ankle,” Yoongi says. “We’re going to the emergency room.”

“I’ll come,” Seokjin says, starting to follow them.

“Let me come, too,” Jimin says.

“Sorry, Jiminie.  Only three visitors at a time are allowed.

With that, the four leave and go to Jungkook’s car.  Yoongi and Namjoon sit in the back, Namjoon resting his foot on the older’s lap.  Jungkook speeds through several red lights to get to the hospital.  Every bump jolts Namjoon’s ankle and sends a sharp pain through it.  As soon as they pull up, Seokjin runs into the ER and comes back with a wheelchair and a nurse, who helps Namjoon into it.

Namjoon tries not to pass out from the pain as they wheel him into a room and lift him onto the bed.  Getting into the X-ray machine is hard on Namjoon.  But he does it.  When they get back into the room, he feels badly nauseous again.

“Hyung…” Namjoon says.

“What?” Yoongi and Seokjin say in unison.

“I need a bag…” Yoongi quickly grabs an emesis bag and hands it to Namjoon, who starts throwing up harshly.  Yoongi rubs his back.

“It’s okay, Joonie.  You’re okay,” he says comfortingly.  “You’re gonna be ok.”  Namjoon hands the bag to Yoongi when he’s done, who ties it off and brings it out to throw it away.  When he comes back in, the female doctor is already there.

“Namjoon has a very seriously broken ankle.”  Yoongi presses his lips together.  “When was the last time he ate?”

“Just 30 minutes ago.  But he just threw up.”

“And he’s how far along?”

“Nine weeks.”

“I hate to inform you of this, but if Namjoon wants to dance again…”

Yoongi’s heart pounds.

“He needs surgery.”

[bunnygirl678]

Medical ramblings under the cut,

So I was talking to my doctor that treats my adhd and deals with the dosage of my adderall and whatnot, and last month I said I felt like it wasn’t working as well and she asked if I wanted to try a higher dosage and I said I wanted to wait another month to see if it was just a blip due to work or whatever

Well I was chatting with her during our recent appointment and I was like no I think my dose is fine, I ended up starting my period a few days later. I laughed and then she started asking questions about my pms symptoms

I’m like yeah I get really anxious over everything, really tired, bad leg cramps and Charlie horses, cravings, mood swings, lots of near crying or sobbing or whatever, and I do this thing where I think everyone hates me, I can’t handle any sort of criticism without feeling terrible, you know the normal stuff and it goes away when my period is done (the tiredness lasts a bit longer but that’s probably due to my blood thinners and having a period)

And she goes, this is one of those things much like your adhd in the past where you think something is normal and ignore it when it is certainly not the normal experience.

So long story short apparently I have something called pmdd or premenstrual dysmorphic disorder, and there’s a high comorbidity with adhd

She prescribed a low dose of Prozac (she had a different one she wanted to prescribe but apparently it doesn’t mix well with blood thinners) to take the week to 10 days before my period as well as the heavier flow days

Now the only problem is I’m super irregular and sometimes I get the pms (or I guess pmdd) symptoms and then they go away with no period. So we’re going to track as best we can, she said there’s a possibility that my body is doing the same hormonal phase as normal but then skipping the period part and moving to the next phase but she isn’t a gyno lol

Anyway she said birth control pills could help or even copper iud but can’t take bc pills due to the hormones and the iud while I technically could have it without being at risk for a blood clot, my hematologist said it was a bad idea in case it ruptured because of internal bleeding woooo

All of this to say I took my adderall this morning and mid afternoon like I normally do, and decided to try the Prozac after work because it said possible drowsiness and let me just say yep, I’m barely awake feels like I took a Benadryl, so it is a night time only pill for sure.

My kid just fell asleep so now I can crash.

Ngl being a girl sucks ass sometimes lol, if we could just skip the shitty hormone drops and raises that would be nice

[captaindibbzy]

A really dumb series of events I'm gonna have a long bitch about.

In 2012 I took part in a trial Jujitsu day at my university. I landed wrong during warm ups and went on my ankle with a large snap. This was dismissed by the teacher but it hurt a lot so I WALKED home on it, you know, rather than finish the lesson. I do not wrap it. I do not go to hospital. I just go home and figure meh it'll be fine.

Spoiler: I am an idiot.

Next day I wake up with an ankle fatter than my thigh and some very interesting bruises on it. Very dark, colour of a black grape. I, not wanting to be a bother (and also suffering from an undiagnosed series of mental issues that won't be diagnosed for another 3 years+) ask my friends to get me some bandages from the shop. I wrap it up from toe to knee and elevate it. Continue to walk on it like the idiot I am.

6 months later this "sprain" is for some unknown reason still a problem. Who can guess why? Could it have something to do with the audible SNAP it made? Our best scientists decided they couldn't be bothered to investigate and they are right. Anyway, I go to the doctor's. They look at it. Hmm. Yeah you probably tore your ligament. But it's 6 months old now so there's not much we can do. Try some physiotherapy.

I do attend but physio on the NHS is basically turn up once every week for 6 weeks and receive a new exercise then we trust you to do it yourself. As mentioned above I'm about 3 years away from a diagnosis of some kind of garbage brain, so for some reason the ability to move does not come naturally to me.

Trash ankle, now wobbly as shit, leads to me over using other leg. This does not lend stability. I become prone to just falling over. Ankle will just GO! Doesn't nesecerily matter which!

This leads to a series of quite bad injuries like the time I was carrying a heavy backpack down a hill, and I just went. (Having learned nothing, after bandaging my ankle I still walk on it. My bag breaks when I get to the train station! Strap just snaps. That was a crap day.)

This incident is around the time I am diagnosed with Garbage Brain and being that the NHS is a pile of trash for mental health I am added to a waiting list for CBT: the only help they offer except medication. They drop me off the list, then re-add me. All in all I spend a year till I get it and in a surprising twist of events it is not very effective! For secret reasons related to garbage brain but which will be discovered in a number more years, but we'll call it self awareness.

Ten years go ticking along. I start using a cane cause I get so scared of falling over, especially on unsteady surfaces. I discover a new talent of managing to twist my ankle out of place while sitting on the couch. I naff my back and start using a cane full time. Falling over is now a HUGE potential problem that could result in broken back. Pandemic happens. My ability to be mobile declines cause while I'm on medication for Garbage Brain I haven't received proper treatment in a long time. I discover I'm autistic! More garbage for the trash fire that is my brain. Join a waiting list. Assume I will never reach the end of it. NHS reaches crisis point. No longer bother trying to get doctors appointment unless I think something might actively try to kill me.

2024. First quarter. I start experiencing intrusive thoughts about falling over. These get more frequent. It doesn't matter if I'm sitting on the couch, lying in bed, driving, walking, standing still. I have horrific cringing visions of my ankle just suddenly going to a 90 degree angle: tumbling down stairs, in pot holes, fully flat surfaces in perfectly stable shoes. These visions get more and more frequent. Visions start affecting OTHER ankle as well.

Here we are today, July 4th, approximately 13 years since I effectively wrecked my ankle for life. I tried to walk down the drive last night and literally every step I took my brain was screaming "you're going to fall over." I stand at the front door scared to step out cause I'm gonna snap my ankle in half, so I think.

This sounds like a job for... Therapy! Oh wait, the NHS is on fire, waiting lists are measured in years, my local NHS only provides CBT which could theoretically be useful for this but also is something I already had and one struggling problems is I was too self aware for it. Also I have to register myself for it cause I've had it before and figuring out how to do that is scary made worse by garbage brain. Those same problem brain cells also make it difficult to fully communicate in a concise and easy to follow manners (thus epic long bitchfests on Tumblr). Can't go to a doctor for advice cause that requires phoning up at 8 in the morning and they are over worked and don't actually want to see anyone and I don't have a GP any more (haven't had one for ten years!) just a practice, and also I'm a fat woman so we KNOW what the first option is going to be from 9/10 people who lay eyes on me.

So I'm literally watching myself step closer and closer to developing psychosis while being firmly caged in by my own mental garbage fire, a failing health system, and a pair of trash ankles that I should have just gone to hospital with in 2012 and had a fucking cast put on it but I didn't want to bother anyone!

[ciaossu-imagines]

How do you think Yata would react to finding out his daughter is pregnant with her husband’s child? Because sure I have an idea but I would also really like your take on it.

Okay, but I’m so flattered that you want my take on things that you already have solid ideas on. And this is a really cute, interesting request, so thank you so much for sending it in and I hope the headcanons I had on the subject are interesting!

Now, just because you say husband, that does kind of influence my thoughts on this because I do think that Yata’s reaction to his daughter’s pregnancy would change drastically if she was unmarried versus when she is married and settled down. When his daughter does get married, even if Yata is of the opinion that she got married much too young (Yata would have preferred that she wait for a more reasonable age to get married, like when she’s fifty or sixty and he’s old and grey and senile or better yet, dead – she can stay with them until then and he’d have no problems with it), he is really going to realize, even when he doesn’t want to, that she’s no longer just his little girl but that she is someone’s wife and he will make his peace with knowing that, like any married couple, they probably are having sex and will probably go on to raise a family of their own.

I do think his first reaction to his daughter and her husband announcing their pregnancy is going to be mild shock and a little bit of outrage. He just thinks they’re so young and that they aren’t prepared enough to have kids quite yet. Are they even aware of how much work a child is? How expensive a child is? Are they financially stable enough to even afford to have a child? All of those thoughts are going to go through his head and because Yata does have a lot of trouble, no matter how old he gets, in not blurting out every thought that goes through his mind, he will of course end up saying all of those things to his daughter and her husband and it’s very likely that there will be an argument and that his daughter would end up feeling like he wasn’t supportive of her and that he wasn’t at all excited about his potential grandchildren.

But it’s really not that. It’s just that Yata really is worried about his daughter. He’s worried that his daughter and her husband aren’t able to financially support themselves and a baby and he’s not sure if he and his partner can afford to support them. He remembers struggling just to afford diapers when his daughter was really young, remembers years where the only Christmas gifts he and his partner could afford for his daughter were given to them for free by other people and how incredibly hard that was for him and his partner mentally and emotionally. He can remember the times when it came to either affording to feed his daughter or to pay a bill…he remembers all these things and he’s so scared that his daughter and her husband are going to end up going through the same struggles and that there won’t really be much he can do to stop them from feeling that pain.

Add to that the fact that Yata gets really uncomfortably nervous and scared around pregnancy in general. It didn’t matter whose pregnancy it was – if it was someone he cared about and they were pregnant, he was a mess kind of worrying about them the whole time. It would be especially bad if there were any kinds of complications to the pregnancy, especially his partner’s pregnancy. There’s just so much that can go wrong, and there is potential for danger both to the baby and to the person carrying it and he’s scared for his daughter. What if something happens to the child she’s carrying? What if there’s a miscarriage? What if there’s complications during labour? What if she develops gestational diabetes or any other medical complications? What if there’s issues with the baby developmentally or it turns out the child would be born with a disability? Like, there’s just so many risks and so many unknowns that pregnancy does freak Yata the fuck out and it just increases the worry he’s feeling.

I do feel like he would eventually come around to accepting his daughter’s pregnancy quite soon after they announced it. He just needed time to really work through his initial panic and it would really help if his daughter and her husband did understand his reaction and were able to kind of help him see that they were able to support the child and that they were taking the pregnancy and the change to being parents really seriously.

That being said, he gets easily pissed off at his daughter and her husband during her pregnancy if they end up doing things that he considers unsafe. Nobody is allowed to smoke around his pregnant daughter, she’s not lifting anything heavy, even if she is more than capable of doing so, she’s mostly just supposed to sit and relax and take care of her health according to Yata and he’ll really get after her husband if he doesn’t feel like the man is taking good enough care of his daughter during her pregnancy or pampering her enough.

[allsadnshit]

I don't want to seem too pushy because I know sometimes people send you asks that are too much but I don't really know, I think I might have agoraphobia but I'm not sure, I've always been very nervious and hated going out but still did it to go to work or school but I got fired a couple of months ago and since then I only go to the near grocery store. I don't have panic attacks or anything I just always manage to come up with a good excuse to not to go out, but it's not lazyness, it's really affecting my life. I guess my question is if you have been treated for it because I don't know if I should go to therapy for that, I used to go to a psychiatrist that didn't take me seriusly at all (prescribed me pills in the first appointment and alwasy rolled his eyes at what I said) which caused me to really doubt if I'm overreacting, again sorry if this is not appropiate

Hmm not super appropriate but very relevant so I will answer!

First of all sorry to hear that's how you have been living for a long time even after talking to a professional... I once had an old psychiatrist joke I should just wear diapers since I was having such debilitating digestive problems in the worst year of my life and it was probably one of the most humiliating distasteful comments I've ever had a medical professional make and it was especially fucked up cause a year later I got a surgical diagnosis for endometriosis which was in fact part of what was destroying my guts and no funny at all to live with forever

So let me just say I hope whoever you've gone to for help who's ignored your needs or not given your issues the energy has a really shit day today and spill their next drink all over themselves and is forced to reflect on their medical malpractice

Secondly, my agoraphobia is part of my OCD which requires it's own diagnosis and took about a year of therapy with a really good therapist before I was comfortable being fully evaluated for it. There is certainly treatment and I'm undergoing it now, and I truly believe it's something you can recover and heal from but it's extremely hard and takes consistent time and effort which is difficult and life doesn't always give us space for.

Not being able to comfortably leave my house has changed my life forever and the medical industry really failed me with not catching it the years I had bad therapists and the longer it goes on untreated the harder to break the pattern it is so don't wait for an opportunity to get started addressing it, make one for yourself. Life is crazy and sometimes we are lucky enough to have the opportunity right in our faces but sometimes we also have to carve them out and it really sounds to me that you're there and want to get better.

Idk what sort of diagnosis you might get or what treatment plan is in store - but I hope you give real time and energy to finding something that helps you even after you've been treated poorly in the past! Save your own life

[aquilacalvitium]

hey i saw your post about the eating tips and it really resonated with me. I got diagnosed with arfid in spring last year but I've been struggling with food like that since 2019. I can also recommend getting a nausea stash, with comfort items for when your stomach is upset. mine contained mints and ginger ale and eating became a lot less stressful now that i had things to take when i felt nauseous rather than waiting it out. I also ate a lot of crackers and other light food. but my biggest recommendation actually is to see a doctor and mention issues with appetite. last December I got meds for excessive rumination that listed weight gain as a side effect and it straight up reset my appetite. the overthinking hasn't stopped at all but i am feeling properly hungry again 3 times a day. it is such a relief to not have to fight your stomach to stuff the necessary calories in it. I no longer have to optimize my diet for maximum nutrients but still being light on the stomach, it now actually has to fill me up. (this is a bit of a problem actually, as executive dysfunction makes preparing food still just as hard as eating it once was.) and now that food is more pleasant cooking is also slowly becoming less daunting, because eating is actually a reward for the work i put in, rather than just another challenge. in my case antidepressants likely kickstarted my eating disorder, so if meds are the cause it's really not that bad of a deal to ask your gp to prescribe meds to solve it. in two months I went from fighting to stay at 108 to comfortably cruising to 115. we might decide to change pills/dosage again next week but the last two months have been such a huge win for me.

That's a lot of personal growth, congratulations!

I do think seeing a doctor about my disorder might be a good idea, although I have issues with taking medication that I won't go into here. As for a nausea stash, I'm yet to come across any kind of food I can stomach while nauseous except maybe hot chocolate, but even that is a stretch :(

Now that you mention it, it's worth considering that my own antidepressants have affected my appetite. I've always had eating problems but it only really became apparent how bad those problems are after I left education and became stuck at home 24/7 which is also around the same time I started my antidepressants. I mean it could just be that I was no longer relying on packed or bought lunches for half the day, but it's worth considering.

[ramblingdisaster73]

people are really being obtuse about why people are upset with carlos. no one thinks his reasoning for the marriage was bad. honestly, i think people could even get over the lying aspect if idk carlos or THE SHOW ITSELF acted like it was bad? i'm sorry but the idea of carlos sitting there letting his secret wife interrogate tk AND not wanting to ~Push her~ makes me not want them to get married. like, good thing she disappears without signing them, tk shouldn't be marrying this asshole anyway.

I agree that many are misunderstanding what is upsetting about the storyline. It's not that he was married, many of us can understand that. For me, I just want to know why he kept it from TK for so long, why he accepted the proposal. Those are the parts that I struggle with. I can honestly say writing fics this week has been very therapeutic. This is going to be long - and may turn into a bit of a ramble as I get these thoughts out.

I have trust issues when it comes to anything Tim says. I also try to remind myself that we are reading pieces of interviews that Tim, Ronen, and Rafa did regarding this particular arc. They each did more than 1 interview with more than 1 journalist. Then each of those journalists released what they thought the others wouldn't be, they each asked similar questions with different wording, just as Tim, Ronen, & Rafa answered with slightly different wording. In one interview it looks like Rafa was saying that Tim told him that he had been married to Iris as early as season 1, while in another it stated that Tim had told him that Carlos and Iris had a closer relationship than had been shown, but hadn't said anything about marriage. You can get a headache trying to read between the lines with these articles, especially since we are so connected to the characters and their relationship (fictional as it is).

For me, the most irritating Tim comment was that he didn't see this as Carlos lying to TK since it wasn't a "real" marriage. Which, quite honestly, is bullshit. It's a real marriage as in there is a legal document that has to be signed by multiple parties, has to go through the court system, has a legal waiting period until that marriage is dissolved, then an additional waiting period before either party can remarry. Its not an intimate or romantic marriage, but it is real. Right now Carlos could break up with TK, no legal documents needed - other than the deed to the loft. Carlos hasn't seen Iris in years, yet needs to go through a legal process to dissolve their 'relationship'. It's a real marriage - there are marriages that are 'in name only' all over the world - they are still real.

I am trying my best to remain optimistic about this next episode. But, I agree - Iris really has no business giving a shovel talk to TK. I can sort of understand her wanting to meet him, but it should never have been a condition of signing the divorce paperwork, especially as she was no longer reliant on Carlos for her medical care. I hope they don't go the villainizing the mentally ill character for the sake of drama. I wish they would have given Carlos a friend outside of the 126 that didn't immediately cause conflict. I want him to have friends, I just don't understand why this was the route to get them for him.

There have been people saying that TK deserves this scene with Iris "roasting" him for the Cooper scene. The scene where an insecure Carlos was unable to realize that Cooper was like "Hey I know all about you, your boyfriend literally never shuts up about you." TK told Carlos about his sponsor the night that Cooper agreed to be his sponsor, had no problem with Carlos meeting him (acted as though it was completely normal for Cooper and Carlos to meet - which it was.), and once TK realized that Carlos was really struggling with the situation, he addressed it head on. He didn't run off, he calmly sat with Carlos, not reacting to the pettiness, just trying to make Carlos understand that while sometimes he would need more than Carlos, he also explained why - that he needed people that understood what he was going through.

Now, if at some point through out this little scene we see Carlos really reassuring him, telling him that even if she doesn't sign he will still file. Something to show that he understands what TK is going through, just as TK did in 3x13. I am hoping that the "you are a hot mess" isn't directed at TK's worry and concern over their future. ANY concerns TK has are valid. He doesn't know Iris, clearly this first meeting with her doesn't go well. And really, how well does Carlos really know her at this point? We just saw their first conversation in what we are to guess is 5/6 years.

I am glad that they won't be getting married in the 1st half of the season, there needs to be some real on screen development showing that Carlos is as committed to TK. I know people will say something about when he bought the loft, but - he was married to someone else and didn't tell TK. That shows that while he wanted a life with TK, TK wasn't a priority. He wasn't willing to be honest about his legal marital status, he accepted a proposal that he couldn't honor. That would make me seriously question my significant other's commitment. It would also make me question whether they really trusted me.

There is no doubt that Carlos loves TK. It has been clear all along. But they both have individual issues and only one of them is willing to talk about them. I have said many times that the writers did a great disservice to Carlos by not acknowledging any flaws he had before now. The breakup was an equal blame situation, yet the writers chose to only give blame to TK, as did a large portion of the fandom.

As I said, I am trying to be hopeful. I am trying to remember how annoyed I was over the breakup storyline, but Push made up for it (for the most part, other than in canon, absolving Carlos of any fault for it). I am hoping that they don't cut anymore scenes that they have shown us. I am sure I will be spending the next several weeks working out my feelings in my fics. I can say that this storyline has been amazing in terms of fic inspiration!!

I do want their wedding, I want the planning drama, I want the tears - but right now, one of them needs to earn it.