#gotta take my meds and then do nothing for the rest of the day (or like. a good while) and then get proper sleep if i’m just fucked

[jorvikzelda]

i thought dealing with migraines alone was bad because i can’t ask anyone for help but staying at my moms place over the holidays is making me realise that it’s actually worse when there’s other people around. i can’t just go make myself a huge bowl of rice and tuna mayo. or leave the dishes for whenever i’ve got the energy to deal with it. or demand people don’t make a single sound while i MAKE said huge bowl of rice and tuna mayo. how the hell is a guy meant to live like this

[phagodyke]

still just so so disappointed though :-(

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss It Better Pt: 5

Curly x Reader

SUM: You had been sleeping in the med bay when Daisuke came to find you. Nearly stabbed him, but despite the scare he shared with you some good news! Jimmy managed to open the shipment bay. Now you all can finally get more resources to survive. Right…..?

Warnings: Jimmy, and uh. Actually that’s it. Hmph! Chapter breather again! No real trigger I can tell. Just ya know “it’s a mouthwashing fic” awareness stuff!

Your sleep was miserable. You swore you didn’t even sleep at all. You had just laid there all night, listening to Curly’s painful breathing and flinching at whatever noise the ship caused. No real rest. Only restlessness.

You even heard someone coming down the hallway. Your heart raced, as you gripped your knife tighter under the pillow. There was someone coming, and you had to be prepared. Sure it could be Anya, since she is the nurse.

But what if it’s not?

You would hear the door open, and you tried to look relaxed. Look like you were still fast asleep, and not waiting. Waiting for any sign of proof that it wasn’t Jimmy. Just praying it’s Anya.

So far it didn’t seem so. The foot steps were heavy, like wearing boots. There was also the fact Anya would speak to herself often. Just saying the quietest of things. Just whatever she was thinking. Didn’t hear a an expected ‘oh my-‘ that was gentle and soothing. None of that.

Just heavy foot steps that stood infront of you. Could even feel the body heat coming closer. Made you sweat in fear. The hell was Jimmy going to do? Did he think you were too tired to notice a touch?

Like hell you’ll be next.

You swung the blade right out of the pillow, and was quick to sit up. Panting in a blend of anger and fear.

To your horror it was not Jimmy.

It was Daisuke.

He had managed to fall on his ass just in time. You had been so terrifyingly close to nailing him. You had ghosted his cheek so close you nicked some of his hair right off his head. The small strands now on the floor.

“Oh god, I am so sorry-! I thought you were Jimmy. Fuck, Suke I am so sorry-“ You left the knife on your pillow, as you looked at your hands in disgust. How you were so close to almost seriously hurting your friend.

Typical Daisuke fashion, he laughed it off.

“Don’t worry about it Nakama! I totally get it. You are Curly’s Koibito! Course you were get defensive. I don’t blame you a lick! Pretty impressive, gotta admit. I would even say cool if I wasn’t on the other end of it.” He would laugh away, as he understood the situation.

Strange….He didn’t question you on why you said Jimmy…..

“Oh-! I came in here to tell you something! I figured you were in here, since I knocked on your bedroom door and nothing was responded back. So here’s the deal, Jimmy managed to unlock the shipment door. He told me to round everyone up so we can meet there and enter together.” He explained to you, as he would help you stand up.

He managed to open the door? Finally. His ass was finally being useful. Maybe there was finally something to make these remaining days less terrifying, and maybe extra in case of delays. It was to ideal to expect them to arrive exactly 28 days from now. Never hurts to have extra. Maybe there were better medical supplies! Yeah, also over optimistic but what else did you have left?

“Thanks. I’ll be out in a minute. Need to check over Curly first and all-“ You explain, as Daisuke gave a nod of understanding. Was also going to be used to help collect your thoughts. Damn you needed some proper sleep, but you were too worried for Curly and Anya. Suppose as the spouse of the captain you felt some kind of responsibility.

You don’t even have a role and you still had more respect and nerve to take care of everyone over the new captain.

How peculier.

“I’ll wait outside the door. Give ya privacy and all that.” He said, before stepping out of the door. He even was whistling to make some noise to give you two somewhat of privacy. Damn that guy was such a sweetheart. Even after so much.

Such a ray of sunshine.

You would run through his routine, and used it to help ground yourself. Just things that were familiar and automatic. Just had to get your brain in the game. Wake up a little bit more.

“I’ll be back soon. I promise. I love you, and remember. Just a few more weeks. You can do this. We can return back to those snowy mountains together. You and me. Have your siblings join us even, and watch them face plant over and over from their shitty balance.” You tried to give him hope, and his broken laugh said it worked.

You would kiss his forehead, before tucking away the knife into your robe pocket. Your card ID was in the other, so you didn’t risk damaging it or losing it when pulling the blade out. You also would lay Curly’s head on your pillow, in some kind of hope it could help him get some sleep.

For once he actually seemed to finally rest his eye. Suppose knowing it was your pillow, and having the faintest scent of you, was soothing something in his brain. That special little button to over run certain factors.

Some rest.

With one more Love You, you would now join Daisuke with heading over to the shipment bay. There with Anya and Swansea. Luckily Anya was standing next to Swansea, so that gave you some relief. Did feel a little guilty you didn’t hurry over sooner.

“About damn time you two. What took you so long? Actually, I don’t care. Let’s just get these doors open and finally see what the hell was so important for us to ship over a year’s time frame.” You glared at the nerve he had to talk to you, AND Daisuke, like that.

Even Swansea was shooting him an annoyed look.

“Just open the damn door, kid-“ The eldest of the group warned. “You got it unlocked, go on and open it already! No point in waiting any longer. Let’s see what the hell was so important they had to have it locked down so hard.” He added on.

Jimmy would give an eye roll, before listening to him. With the scanner triggering the override, the doors would finally click themselves to unlock. Sounded like they haven’t opened in years compared to months. Had you a bit worried.

The doors would slide themselves open, and you all were greater to a massive hall. Was just endless boxes. All about the same size, but it was looking into a sky full of stars. Felt like it went on forever. Was so high you swore you could catch a wisp of a cloud.

“Damn….” Swansea muttered, as you all would walk into the shortage volt. A strong stench of mint was quick to hit you all as well. Good to make the eyes water. Had you cough a bit by such an intense flavor overload.

“Smells like someone threw like a mint bomb in here. Phew-!” Daisuke would wave at his face, as Anya seemed to be the only one not really bothered. Suppose years of disinfect use makes you kinda nose blind.

“Wonder why it’s so minty in here.” You pondered, as Jimmy went to grab one of the boxes. Seemed to have some heft, given the weight lifter had to put in some effort to get it down.

Everyone was soon surrounding the box. Just wondering whatever could be inside. What could have been so important to ship, why there is so many, and why the hell the shipment was taking so long to get. Maybe it’s something important so no matter what people would have come for them? That would be nice.

Seems like thank god you found that transmitter.

“Is….is this-?”

“Mouthwash-?!”

Everyone was left kinda speechless. Just there infront of you was a box stuffed with mouthwashing bottles. Just simple, easy to make, mouthwash. Nothing special at all. Just dental hygiene.

Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of mouth wash bottles.

Left you all rather speechless. The hell does someone say? It’s just a bottle of liquid you are meant to spit out. It’s not even useful! And this ship was stuffed with it!

Anya would pick up a bottle, and read off the ingredients. Just trying to find some kinda of use for it. Meanwhile the rest of you were kinda having a crisis.

You on the fact Curly went through all this abuse for something that is not worth dying for. Made your ears ring, and nothing could really get through your head. You just had to process this insanity before you. That this was what would have been your final mission call, and what Curly lost his limbs for.

What pulled you away from the cocktail of mixed emotions was Anya panicking.

You quickly looked over, and say Swansea uncorking a bottle. Just out right drinking it.

“Hey hey-! Stop that-!” You ran over, and managed to get him to stop. Half the bottle was empty though. Was it dangerous to drink that stuff? You knew he had been sober for years, but was he really going to be that desperate for a fix?

People were falling apart fast. You needed to bring everyone back into control again. You wish it could be as easy as telling them the truth, but if Jimmy caught scent that help will come he might do something drastic. Maybe go on a killing spree and say he was the last survivor. Maybe something worse? What could be worse?

You didn’t want to know.

“Swansea, please. We still have plenty of rations, right? We aren’t empty on supplies just yet-“ You would take on the position of leader, since Jimmy sure was doing a shit job of it. Didnt say a damn thing when poor Swansea started chugging.

You would jump up on one of the crates, and used it as a stand to get everyone’s attention. Get everyone to focus on you and listen closely. You had to make a plan. Get gears turning in the right directions.

“We are going to be ok. Like I said, we still have supplies left. Curly can afford to stay in his bandages a little longer than normal with how we keep the med bay clean. He can afford to slow down his pain killer usage. We can stretch the food out longer if we make sure to not waste our energy on things that aren’t absolutely needed. We can afford to wait. We can wait. We will wait. At the very least try and give this another month before you guys all go crazy and say mutiny. Ok? We will be ok. Trust me. Curly and I had been victims of a crashed ship before. We will be ok.”

That was a lie.

Curly never crashed a ship in all his years. Never even crashed a damn bike, but sometimes you need to create fake hope to keep people from eating each other alive. That’s what a captain does. You try and take care of your crew by all means possible. You try, at least.

Something Jimmy hasn’t done at all.

“You are right-“ Anya said, before joining you on the box. She was anxious to speak up, because it made Jimmy focus on her, but she wanted to take care of everyone the best she could as well. She wanted to become a doctor for a reason. To help people. Now was her time to shine.

“We just need to remain calm. Panicking and doing things like chugging mouthwash isn’t going to do any of us good. We are still stable right now. Maybe there IS something useful here. We will look through here, while Swansea and Daisuke keep working on trying to repair what they can.”

You were proud of Anya. Having two calm voices was going to have a heavier impact than just one. Seemed to work on Swansea at least. To see you two up there, holding each other for support.

Just like his girls.

“Fine fine. But ONE month. That’s all you’ll get out of me-“ He warned, before whistling for Daisuke to follow him back to the lower decks. Suke didn’t really want to. Not with the fact Jimmy remained so silent during all this, and just glared at the two on the box.

“Jimmy? Your thoughts-?” Daisuke tried to get him to speak. Everyone now looked to the ‘Captain’ now. All he had to do was scoff.

“You heard them. Not like we have any better shit to do.” He narrowed his eyes at you, being suspicious on how you seemed so damn calm about this realization. You hope he thinks you are just good at playing it cool.

“I’m going to see if I can dig my way through some of the foam in the rooms to find any more supplies we can use.” Finally. Something actually useful from him.

That was when the team split up, and you would join Anya in trying to hunt down possible supplies through the thousands of boxes of mouthwash. Maybe something an employee left behind, or other materials stuffed away.

Once you were damn near the back of the storage vault, and any possible sounds of extra footsteps could be heard miles away, you finally pulled her aside.

You told her everything.

She sobbed into your shoulder in pure relief. Things were going to actually be ok indeed. She just had to let it all out. Probably some mixture of that crying was about Curly as well. You had to tell her that part. She’s a nurse. She needed to know for medical purposes. Such as infection risks and what wounds were reopened.

Didn’t know how long she cried, but it was long enough for Jimmy to get suspicious. Ended up hunting you two down in the vault. Fortunately his foot steps were easy to hear from so far away.

You couldn’t help but feel such a heavy dread come your way. That maybe it was better to hide. You didn’t know why. Something just sounded so off about his foot steps. They were heavier…and faster.

“Shhhh-“ You hushed, and she would wipe her eyes clean. Now she heard it to, and it was making her anxious as well. The two of you looked at each other, before to the shelves.

Time to put that ice mountain training with curly to use.

You climbed up the shelves, and tried to get as high as you could. Anya did her best to follow after you. She would directly follow the path you took, but her foot ended up slipping. She managed to grab your robe, and now you were holding on to dear life to the top shelf, while she tried to get her grip again.

“I swear I heard her crying back here. I know I did. I know her crying better than anyone-“ Jimmy muttered, as he was just under you both. Oh how you were trying so hard to keep your grip. You needed to move so bad, but if you did you risked making noise. You just had to hang on. Hang on long enough for him to leave.

Felt like an eternity, but you could hear him walking. That was until Anya’s sandal slipped off from her trying to get her footing.

The echo it made froze your blood.

You could feel him turning around, and you swore it was all over.

“JIMMY! SWANSEA AND I FOUND SOMETHING!” You could hear Daisuke call.

Thank you Ray of sunshine.

You would hear his footsteps fade away, and now you were finally able to help her up to the top shelf. The two of you just hiding there for a while. Catching your breaths, and shaking.

“Will Curly be ok stationed out in our bedroom?” You asked her, when you two were able to breathe.

“Yes….Yes he should. Just need to make sure he remains on clean fabric, a place to hang his IV, and things like that.” She swallowed, as you would stroke her hair.

“And a standby nurse?” You asked, as her eyes stared up at you with such a relief. A real place to hide. To finally get real sleep.

“Never hurts to have extra help.” She consented, as you two kept holding each other. Deep breaths of that painful mint, and the sounds of the ever creaking ship.

You couldn’t help but swear you could hear your husbands groans from the medbay. Maybe it was your imagination or maybe……

Jimmy was taking his anger out on someone.

You closed your eyes, and prayed it wasn’t the latter.

Just twenty eight more days.

Just…….

28 more days until rescue…..

Tag list: @meheheasasa @letmebedelutional @trashcansally @balanahala562 @dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya @silas-222 @lil-writer-523 @ratkidcalledallie @vainillacookie @gumycandyyy @kawliflo @mikeyswifie @sc4rrc @infl1cted @sakui1 @justsomereaderwholikesanime @strawbrysapphic @bittersw33t-lotus @emmathecouchpotato4583 @crysta4rtist @luvsymai @mythraendir @dietcokeandlana @teenie-beanie @chewbrry @letmebedelutional

Like I say, it depends on when you ask and the fact tumblr doesn’t like me tagging certain usernames. Like they don’t even register. So do a solid and reblog to help people I’m unable to tag to see this post! Thank you!

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[separatetheyolk]

hey so i kinda stalked your account after ur intro stumbled onto my feed....if you're taking requests right now could you write something for one of the papaya boys with trans!driver!reader? I'm not picky in terms of plot <33

also i lovelovelove your writing

Feel Better In Your Skin | Lando Norris X Trans!Driver!Reader

ʚɞ featuring: Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz (platonic )

ʚɞ it’s winter break, you’ve just gotten your top surgery and it’s up to Lando to take care of you

ʚɞ I got you!! I’m glad you’re liking my writing so far aha I’ve written on different platforms like ao3 before but I found that wasn’t really tailored to “__ x readers” as well as “__ x __” so here I am.

I read the ask wrong at first lol and started writing trans Lando so ended up having to change that all half way through. I wasn’t sure if you were wanting more focus for like paddock stuff so if you do just lmk I’d be happy to write another with more focus on that or just a part 2 to this one

Anyway hope you enjoy this one too!

ʚɞ warnings: mentions of dried blood and incisions obviously, very brief mention high from pain meds, surgery mentioned obvs, y/n used, not proofread

ʚɞ wordcount: 2.4K

ʚɞ requests are open!

Lando heard you groan as he helped the you into bed. Carefully lying you down, setting a pregnancy pillow under you arms and tucked you in. “Arms in or out, baby?” He asked softly, hand running through your hair, brushing it away from your forehead.

You couldn’t stop the whine that slipped past chapped lips. Still a smidge high on the pain killers they’d given before you’d been discharged from your double mastectomy. “Messin’ up my hair..” you grumbled, pout set on your face. “Out please.” You answered Lando after a moment of realisation that he’d asked you a question.

Nodding softly with a small chuckle, he set the blanket under your arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything you need, handsome?” The man spoke, moving to carefully sit beside you on his empty side of the bed. Lando would be taking the sofa in the main room of your B&B while you slept, not wanting to hurt his boyfriend anymore than he’d already been. You had tried to insist the day before surgery that you’d take it. He insisted that you rest in a comfortable setting.

You hummed slightly when you felt a soft hand rest on your cheek, turning into the palm and closed your eyes. Heat warming the skin that had been nipped by a winter breeze. Having traveled from Monaco back to the UK for your surgery. Lando knew you’d had you heart set on a particular surgeon since you were eighteen. And now, at twenty three he’d managed pay to get you surgery putting you on his last ever waiting list just before the surgeon was to go into retirement. He’d given you the news as a birthday present. Of which you were immensely grateful for.

He hadn’t been too keen on the idea of flying back with you after quite an invasive surgery. But he knew this was your body. You’d have to live with the scars. And Lando wanted nothing more than for you to feel confident. For once in your life feel confident in who you were. In your skin. Wear clothes you wanted to wear when you wanted them. Not in accordance of whether it hid your binder or not. Not have to worry about cameras getting side on shots of your body, chest visible unable to bind while racing.

“Hurts..” Lando heard you speak, clearly wanting more for the pain. Snapping him from the immense surge of proudness that welled in his chest. You watched your boyfriend carefully. How he pulled out his phone, how a frown settled on his oh so perfect face, how he sighed. That sigh really didn’t sound good.

“I’m sorry baby..” he spoke softly, adjusting a few pillows behind you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I can’t give you any ibuprofen just yet.. gotta wait another hour first. Okay?”

Reluctantly, you nodded. With a smile, Lando rose from the bed, fixing the covers and set the remote for the TV into your hand. “Put on whatever you’d like, my love. I’m gonna order us some food.”

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, 206k others

yourusername

Left with less of myself but felt more complete.

Thank you baby. Thank you for coming with me, supporting me and taking care of me. I love you so much <3

And thank you for the icecream

Tagged: @/landonorris

Comments

landonorris I love you too baby. So proud of you <3

user1 STOP IT THIS IS ACTUALLY ADORABLE

user2 GOING TO SCREAM

oscarpiastri So proud of you mate!

user3 “left with less of myself but felt more complete” IM GOING TO SOB

mercedesamgf1 Looking forward to working with you this season! Wishing you a speedy recovery!

———————————

“Oh my god this fucking sucks” you groaned out, eyes screwed shut. It felt like the drains were cutting into your sides. They hurt more than the fucking incisions stretched across your chest.

“I know baby..” Lando frowned softly, moving to sit beside you again and pressed a kiss to your temple. He didn’t really know. Not truly. He knew that. He didn’t know how the pain was, he just knew you were in pain. And if he could do something about that, he would. “Not long now though.. hopefully get them out tomorrow.”

The two of you were cutting it fine in regards to the 2025 season. You were both due at Bahrain for the three days of pre-season testing (although you weren’t exactly excited about their twisted laws for LGBT individuals). Due there the 25th of February, testing starting the 26th and finishing on the 28th. At that point you would be four and a half weeks healed. You’d practically have to beg the surgeon tomorrow to give you a letter saying you could take part.

Then, a two week break. Season opening in Australia on the 16th March. At which you’d be six and a half weeks. In theory, fully healed. But it could take anywhere from 6-8.

“What you thinkin’ about, love?” Lando looked to you, arm wrapping carefully around your shoulders.

“Who said I was thinking about anything?” You shot back with a smile, meeting his gaze and carefully placed your head to his shoulder.

“You were sticking your tongue out.”

“Traitor..” you muttered to it.

———————————

You were sat in the surgeons office the next day, leg bouncing against the floor, hand holding onto the inside of Lando’s thigh for comfort. Your head was spinning. You were drowning. Drowning in endless possibilities and all bad. What if you didn’t like it? What if you decided you preferred yourself before? What if you weren’t really trans? What if you’d picked the wrong surgeon and ultimately it looked awful? What if your nipples had fallen off? What if-

“Y/n, breathe..” Lando spoke softly, one hand moving to rest on top of yours that was holding his thigh and the other moving to rub your own. “You’re panicking, love.”

You turned to face him caught like a deer in headlights. Your tongue fell flat in your mouth as your mind scrambled to find words. Piece together some remnants of a sentence. Lando didn’t rush you, didn’t disrespect you, didn’t roll his eyes or get angry. Instead, he let you take your time. Let you organise your mind. Removing your hand from his thigh just for a moment to place a kiss to the back of it before letting you set it back down wherever you chose. You decided to just leave it in the same spot.

Eventually, you spoke up. “What if I regret it..” you whispered, voice cracking slightly.

You watched as Lando opened his mouth to speak. Cut off by the surgeon that entered. “Right! Let’s get this show on the road.” The man spoke, heading to the chair in the middle of the room. “Come sit on this chair for me.”

You didn’t move at first, watching as he went to wash his hands. Only as the surgeon started to slip his gloves on did you stand, Lando helping you to undo the buttons on your shirt and slipped it from your back. Leaving you looking to a bare stomach and bandaged chest.

With hesitant feet, you silently moved to the chair, sitting on it with your eyes fixed to Lando. Refusing to look to your chest or the mirror in the corner of the room as the surgeon got to work unraveling bandages.

You caught glimpses of dried blood as he began to pull gauze away, swallowing thickly as he removed the ones covering your nipples only to find that they weren’t on the fabric. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, shoulders relaxing some.

Then came the drains. They weren’t so bad, a slight nip to begin with as the surgeon pulled out stitches holding them in place. But other than that it just felt weird. Like how you’d imagine sucking a noodle through a lip piercing would feel like when a video came up on your for you page once. You’d quickly blocked that user for the sake of your own sanity. Not malicious intent, it just freaked you out and you did not want to risk them coming back onto your fyp again.

“Alright, we’re all done.” The man spoke, stepping back to take a look at his work. Your own eyes gaze still fixed to Lando. “I’ll leave you two alone to look. But it all looks good and healthy to me.” You heard the snap of gloves coming off, the squeak and then clatter of a bin opening and closing. The surgeon walking into your view to leave the room.

Lando frowned when you didn’t turn to look. Standing, he moved to lock the door, then made his way to you. Crouching beside you. “You look gorgeous, baby..” Lando whispered as he took your hand and held it to his own cheek pressing a kiss to the palm of it. “Do you want a photo of it first, babe?” He asked softly, seemingly able to read you like an open book as you nodded slowly.

As Lando stood, he set your hand back into your lap. He stopped the recording, taking a few steps back at the front of the chair and took a photo. After making sure it wasn’t blurry, he headed back to you reassuming his crouched position and turned the screen to you. “Here..”

With both hands, you carefully took the device. Eyes scanning the photo meticulously looking for any mistakes. Any dog ears, any infections, anything that didn’t look like it should be there. But instead all you found was some light bruising and scabs along your incisions. All perfectly normal. All.. perfect.

“You want to look in the mirror?” He asked softly, watching you nod. With a smile, Lando helped you to stand so you wouldn’t stretch the incisions. Hanging back as you moved to the mirror. Setting the phone up where you’d just sat to continue recording.

Like the photo, your eyes scanned the reflection in the mirror. Left to right, down, right to left, down, left to right. Finding nothing again. You felt emotions bubbling in your chest, but it was when you turned to the side that your works burst. You were flat. A bit swollen and bruised. But you were flat. Holy shit.

You looked to Lando in the mirror. The man holding the biggest grin he could and you were sure he didn’t even realise it. Slowly, you turned to him as a sob was pulled from your throat, moving to hide in your boyfriend’s shoulder while he wrapped his arms around you. The feeling of his arms wrapped against your bare skin, his chest flush against yours without anything in the way caused you to cry harder. Legs weak and shaky but you remained standing.

Lando had a feeling he’d be getting a lot more hugs from you.

After the surgeon showed both you and Lando how to properly tape the sutures and cover your nipples, he gave you scar cream and you were under strict instructions to keep your chest dry. Only rinse after the testing sessions to get rid of any sweat and pat dry with paper towels. He then handed you a letter which you’d take a photo of and send to Toto when you got home. Basically stating you had the all clear.

The drive home was a slow one. Purposefully. After a week in bed you wanted to get outside. So, despite not having showered in a week that was exactly what the two of you done. You broke your strict diet, had Tim Hortons, coffee, a donut and just drove around town taking the long route back to the air B&B.

Once back, Lando ran you a bath, helping you inside and began to was you carefully. You made sure to keep the waterline below your surgery. Letting Lando press kisses to your face, head, shoulder, neck, hands. Wherever he could. Making sure you knew he loved you. He was here. He wasn’t leaving. He wanted to help. Then came the difficult part, washing your hair. Lando helped you to dry off and change first into some comfortable joggers and one of his button ups. Then, wrapped a towel around your neck and over your shoulders. You crouched down, head over the edge of the tub as Lando started the shower. Making sure the water was at the right temperature before beginning to wash away the grease and grime of the past week. Chuckling as you melted into his hand.

Once your hair was adequately soaked, he turned the shower off, let the head fall into the bath and grabbed the shampoo. He lathered, rinsed, then done the same with conditioner. He then squeezed some of the water out your hair before you sat up, drying it for you and chuckled when he pulled the towel away. Hair sticking up every which way. “My handsome man..” he mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips which you happily accepted. Hand dropping to his waist.

———————————

mercedesamgf1

Liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and 127k others

mercedesamgf1

The 2025 season is officially underway!

Y/N and George at day 1 of pre-season testing

Tagged: @/yourusername @/georgerussell

Comments

user1 y/n’s hands 🤤🤤

user2 You guys always have to ruin it huh?

landonorris no touchy

yourusername down boy

yourusername good to be back! So excited to work with you guys this season!

You turned to the door when it opened, smiling wide when you saw Lando poke his head round it. “There you are!” The man grinned, stepping inside. Pausing when he spotted, well, nothing. Just a flat chest under that black jumpsuit.

You smiled wide. “Here I am.” You spoke walking over to him. Turning in a circle as you went. “You like?”

“Oh baby I love..” the other whispered, blushing when a kiss was pressed to his cheek. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he nuzzled into your neck. Now your turn to hold him. And you certainly wouldn’t complain. “Love you..” you heard a mutter into your shoulder.

You smiled back, pressing a gentle kiss to his shoulder with a “Love you most..”

———————————

Bonus - Boys on the beach

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 204k others

yourusername

beach days with my boys

Tagged: @/landonorris @/oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc @/carlossainz55

Comments

user1 not Charles having a better photo then his own boyfriend

yourusername “if you’re gonna post a photo of me it could be a good one at least”

carlossainz55 alright that’s just mean now

charles_leclerc We aren’t your boys

landonorris yes we are

oscarpiastri Yes we are

yourusername yes you are

ʚɞ I don’t know how to do endiiiiings. sorry if the second half’s a little rushed. Half of it got deleted since my tumblr crashed and I hadn’t saved so had to retype it all. This took way longer than I thought it would. Enjoy!!

WHY DIDNT ANYONE TELL ME I SAID MCLARENAMGF1 AND NOT MERCEDES THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR FIVE HOURS IN GOING TO SCREAM

I’m in McLaren brain rot rn

[mymindisneverhere]

Summary: Terrys been spending a lot of time helping Summer recover and you can’t help but to feel neglected and a bit jealous.

warnings: angst, fluff, and some jealousy

Let’s Make Up

It’s been a few weeks since Summer's recovery and you’ve been completely understanding of her and Terry's friendship. Ever since Terry lost his cousin and witnessing Summer almost lose her life, he was overcome with panic and anxiety. Although Mike's death wasn’t Terrys fault, he still took on a great deal of guilt for his passing.

With Summer coming face to face with death, Terry spent every free moment he could making sure she was okay. He made sure she had the food she needed, he was sure she got lots of rest and spent time with her daughter. However all of the time he spent with her was time away from you and you couldn’t help but to feel a hint of jealousy.

“Hi Summer, how are you feeling?” You greeted with a forced smile.

“I’m doing much better.” Summer responded. “The doctors said as long as I keep myself hydrated and active I should be back to normal really soon.”

“That’s good.” You said.

You were in the kitchen preparing dinner for you, Terry, and now Summer. You tried to hide your emotions but as the days went by it was becoming more of a challenge.

“Summer’s staying for dinner, is that okay?” Terry asked, grabbing a cold water out of the fridge.

“Sure.” You responded dryly. “Thanks for the heads up, again.”

Summer and Terry couldn’t help but to catch the sarcasm in your tone. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide it anyway.

Every night for the past three weeks, you’d prepare dinner for the two of you and just when you thought you’d finally have an intimate evening with your husband, here comes Summer at the last minute. You were stuck between feeling sorry for her situation and also wanting your husband back. Yeah she needed the help getting back herself, but how long was that going to take?

“You okay?” Terry whispered to you, placing a hand on your lower back.

You quickly brushed his hand away and headed to the sink with a bowl of potatoes to rinse them.

“Yep.” You turn the water on full blast hoping to drown out anything else Terry was about to say.

Terry looked over at Summer not needing to say anything. Summer could take a hint so she decided to head home.

“I’ll just go, I don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” Summer smiled nervously, grabbing her bag and car keys. “I’ve gotta take my meds anyway, see you guys later. Thanks again T.”

“Be careful Summer.” Terry watched carefully as Summer exited the house and waited a few seconds before hearing her Volvo start up and pull off.

“Is everything okay?” Terry asked, turning his attention back to you, his voice calm.

“Peachy.” You responded, sarcasm lacing your tongue yet again.

Terry took a deep breath and placed his water on the counter. Ever so often he would pick up on your side comments and petty remarks. He had to admit that sometimes the immaturity was not the most flattering on you. Although he could do without the childish games, he understood you better than anyone else did so he’d give you a pass.

“It’s nothing Terry.” You stated. You grabbed a knife from the drawer and began aggressively chopping the potatoes.

He knew not to fight fire with fire, especially with you. It would get you guys nowhere. As sensitive as you were, he knew to deal with you accordingly. He was never one for ego trips, so he had no problem doing whatever he could to be sure you two were in perfect harmony. Even if that meant swallowing his pride and letting you throw your tantrums.

“Come on babe, don’t do that.” He said, hinting at your passive aggressive behavior. “Talk to me, tell me what’s bothering you instead of making me guess.”

“Is Summer your wife now? Cause it sure as hell feels like it.” You spat, turning to face him, knife still in hand.

Terry eyed the knife then you.

“You wanna put the knife down?” He said, his eyes darting back and forth between you and the knife.

“I’m not gonna cut you Terry…” You started. “Unless I need to.”

You stared up at him with a raised brow.

Most people would find Terry intimidating. His height, his authoritative voice and stern expression caused most to shrink in his presence. But you didn’t care about any of that, especially not at the moment.

“You can’t possibly think I’ve done anything with Summer.” He joked, smiling slightly. He couldn’t believe what you were suggesting just by the face you were making.

Your expression quickly changed from skepticism to anger. You were never really a jealous woman but you needed time and attention. If he wasn’t giving it to you then it was going to Summer, and what exactly was she doing to get so much attention from your husband?

You knew about her condition. You knew about her past struggles with drugs and how she was fighting to get her daughter back. But Summer was a grown woman who should’ve been able to take care of herself at some point.

“So this is a joke to you?” You questioned. You slammed the knife down onto the counter and brushed past Terry, heading to your bedroom.

“You can’t be serious right now.” He was right behind you. “She just got out of the hospital from an overdose. I walked her into the hospital, I made sure she was okay, she could’ve died hadn’t I taken her in time. Am I supposed to just leave her and disappear like I don’t care?”

“You know that’s not what I'm saying, do not make me seem like I'm some heartless person!” You shot back, turning to meet him face to face.

“Then what is it?” He asked, genuine confusion written over his face.

“Terry, when was the last time we had movie night?” You began. “When was the last time we went on a date? Hell, when was the last time we fell asleep together in our bed?”

“Some days you’re so out of touch with reality and so laser focused on fixing another person, I don’t even know what’s going on with you!”

Terry relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh of defeat. He didn’t realize that him being so concerned about Summer, who was solely a friend, would result in him neglecting you and your needs.

“Every day you leave out early in the morning and come home late at night and the nights when you do make it home in time, guess who's right behind you?” You were pissed beyond belief. “I spend the days all alone, do you know how empty it feels to know my husband isn’t home to hold me while I fall asleep? That he much rather be out playing nurse than to be here with me making sure I’m okay? Or did you forget you were even married?”

He stood silently staring down at you with a look of regret and sorrow.

“I didn’t know.” He admitted.

You scoffed and turned to take a seat on your side of the bed. You couldn’t believe that the only thing he could muster up was “I didn’t know.”. He needed to try ten times harder than that or he would be falling asleep in the living room for the next few nights.

“Baby listen.” Terry spoke. He walked over to you taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you were second to Summer, those weren’t my intentions at all.” He stated, his eyes locked onto yours. “It’s just…”

He took a breath and ran his hands down his face.

“I’ve been feeling this heavy sense of guilt since Mike passed. After all I did to bring some sort of justice to his death and Summer being the one to help me in all of this, I didn’t know what to do when Summer wasn’t responsive after what those cops did to her.” He looked down at his hands. “I didn’t know if I could handle both of those deaths back to back like that.”

“I just wanted to run from the guilt that I felt so I made it my priority to try and nurse her back to health and in doing that I neglected you and I’m sorry.” His eyes were filled with remorse, turning a soft brown as he stared at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt guilty for Mike’s death, we could’ve talked about it?” You asked him.

“I was just trying to be strong I guess, not let the emotions catch up to me.” He chuckled. “The Marines will do that to you.”

“Well you’re not there anymore.” You stated in all seriousness. “If you can’t tell me what’s going on with you, then what am I here for?”

“You’re right.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t want you to neglect Summer either but I need you to find some balance in this. You can care for your friend and still be here for me as well, she’s not the only one who needs you.” You added.

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, the sound of cars passing by being the only noise in the room.

“Mike’s death isn’t on you but at least you know he’s in a much better place and so is Summer. She’s healthy, she’s got her weight back and she’s a big girl, she can handle herself.” You stated. “You can stop trying to play Superman for everyone, you need to take care of yourself too.”

He nodded in agreement.

“You forgive me?” He looked at you with pleading eyes.

You waited a few seconds before responding just to admire the look on his face. Although you two had your moments, he was so good to you. He never hesitated to right whatever wrong he had done.

But he had a lot of making up to do and you knew exactly how you wanted him to do it.

“Not yet.” You smirked, staring down at his lips

He paused, catching onto what you were suggesting. A small smile crept onto his face as he shook his head.

“What I gotta do?” He asked, staring at your lips, his eyes fading from soft brown to green.

“Whatever I say…” You said, standing up and towering over him.

Little did he know he was in for a long night…

*Next Day*

You slowly opened your eyes, the sunlight beaming through your thin curtains. You rolled over to find your bed empty, again. Sitting upright, you looked around the room wondering how he was gone yet again after the talk you two had last night.

Just when you felt yourself becoming upset, the smell of breakfast filled your nostrils and you began to blush. The aroma of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fresh fruit filled your home and you knew who was responsible for that.

Terry didn’t cook often simply because you enjoyed being in the kitchen most of the time and he didn’t want to interrupt your flow. You guys weren’t a completely traditional couple but while you handled most of the cooking, he took care of the rest of the house work and you two were okay with that.

You rushed to brush your teeth and wash your face before heading into the kitchen. Terry was there in his pajama pants, no shirt with a kitchen towel hanging off his shoulder. You giggled to yourself as you noticed how seriously he would take things, even the smallest tasks.

He didn’t notice you walk in so you decided to lean against the wall admiring the view. You watched as he moved around the kitchen like a professional. The way his muscles tensed with every flip of the pancake, the way his tattoos appeared so clearly against his smooth skin, you could sit and watch him do anything all day long.

“You know you've never been good at sneaking up on me.” He joked, without turning to face you. Terry was always 100% alert and aware of his surroundings even in his own home. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t sense no matter how small it was. It was ingrained in him to be so hyper vigilant.

You stood up straight, taking your weight off of the wall and walked over to him. “Damn Marines.” You kissed your teeth in annoyance.

He laughed and placed the last of the breakfast onto a large plate on the table where the rest of the food sat.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He said, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Good morning.” You took a seat at the kitchen table and placed a tablecloth on your lap.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked.

“I slept well, finally having you next to me, I didn’t toss and turn all night.” You said looking up at him. “I really missed you baby. You’ve been up all morning cooking all this food?”

“Of course, anything for you.” He stated. He sat a plate right in front of you and another directly across from you. “I figured I could start off by cooking your favorite meal of the day.”

He reached into fridge and grabbed two juices and looked to you. “Apple or Orange?” He inquired, holding up both jugs of juice in each hand.

“Apple, duh!” You laughed.

“I just wanted to give you options.” He joined you in laughter.

He poured two tall glasses of juice for the two of you and took a seat across from you. The two of you sat enjoying the food and much needed conversation. It had been such a long time since you actually sat together, you had so much catching up to do.

Terry sat fully tuned in as you filled him in on the latest gossip of the town and at work. He loved how you got so excited just to share something as simple as lighthearted drama on the job with him. He missed your sense of humor and animated personality, it was the perfect match for his calm and relaxed demeanor.

“Knock Knock.” A familiar voice rang out, it was Summer.

“We're in the kitchen.” Terry announced, looking at you. He continued eating his breakfast as if nothing was happening.

You stared back at him with an unreadable expression. You weren’t upset but you weren’t happy either.

“I’m just coming to deliver a package before I head into town to see my little girl.” Summer said before turning the corner holding a large bouquet of roses.

You looked at her in shock and then back to Terry, a sly smirk on his face as he ate his breakfast. She held bright pink roses in her hands, your favorite flowers, the same ones Terry bought you on your first date, during your engagement and for every anniversary.

“Oh my God.” You stood up from your seat and grabbed the flowers from her, the both of you struggling to hold up the weight, considering your stature.

“Terry asked if I could bring these by on my way into town.” Summer started. “My neighbors are florists so it wasn’t a bother at all.”

“Thank you Summer, I really appreciate it.” You said with a soft smile. The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, not really needing to say much because your expressions told it all. Hers soft and apologetic and yours grateful yet compassionate.

“Well I have to go, don’t wanna be late.” Summer stated, breaking the silence.

“Enjoy your time with your daughter.” Terry said, walking Summer to the door. “Be careful up there.”

“Will do.” Summer said.

Terry walked back into the kitchen to see you smelling your roses, a huge smile on your face that always warmed his heart. He didn’t need to distract himself from the loss of his cousin by smothering Summer. He needed to be home with you, his wife. Just the sight of you being happy was enough to make him feel better again.

“You were about to go off on me again, weren’t you?” Terry smiled, folding his arms over his chest.

“No.” You lied. The expression on Terrys face let you know he didn’t believe you one bit.

“I mean I was just surprised, but I love them so much, they’re beautiful baby.” You said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“I don’t know where I wanna put them.” You searched around the kitchen for the perfect spot.

“Just place them down for now.” He instructed.

He took your hand and led you to the living room where blankets and pillows sat on the floor. All of your favorite snacks and candy, popcorn and bottles of wine. There were tea lights lit around the floor and fireplace. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in everything before your eyes landed on the TV.

You looked up at Terry in complete shock and excitement.

“I rented all five Twilight movies,” He started. “We’re binging all day, I got all your favorites. It’s just you, me and your favorite movie all day and all night.”

“How did you have the time to do all of this?” You asked genuinely wondering how he set all of this up.

“Well I figured you’d be in a deep sleep after last night.” He joked with a flirtatious smirk on his face. “So I got up a little early and got to work.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. You relaxed into his arms and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. You felt young again, like he was courting you, trying to win your heart and make you his all over again.

“I won’t ever go missing on you like that again baby, I promise.” He said looking down into your eyes. “I love you.” The serious expression on his face telling you that he was being completely real with you.

“I love you more Terry.” The two of you kissed again before snuggling onto the pallet on the floor and enjoying each other’s company for the rest of the day.

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

[lesservillain]

—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week. 

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes. 

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate. 

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you’ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone. 

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you. 

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself. 

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face. 

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor. 

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief. 

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle. 

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly. 

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks. 

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again. 

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all. 

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest. 

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone. 

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner. 

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening. 

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening. 

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter. 

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself. 

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more. 

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents. 

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him. 

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light. 

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light. 

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries. 

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode. 

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most. 

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?” 

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.” 

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.” 

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence. 

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day. 

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress. 

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen. 

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever. 

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition. 

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour. 

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup. 

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label. 

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later. 

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights. 

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day. 

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder. 

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them. 

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

[ariiadnes]

ㅤ╭ ⿻ ･ 10 : 41pm.

-ˋ ♡ ◞ simon riley. call of duty.

if there is one thing that is to be known about simon riley ( which really, there shouldn't be anything, so he says, but apparently, this is an exception ), it's that he doesn't get sick. no, not the tall, gruff, rough-around-the-edges lieutenant who has been through hell and back.

dangerous missions? war criminals? missiles? easy to deal with.

viruses? ah, well--

a beep, then two.

you stare at the thermometer, brow raised before you let out a small sigh.

"i fear you may be sick, simon riley."

you show him the numbers. 101.2. he pauses, stares blankly at the tiny screen before his gaze slowly shifts to you. suddenly, he cannot read.

"no."

you stare back, deadpan.

"...no?"

"no."

a few seconds of silence.

"...so anyway," you continue, draping the blanket over his exhausted form, blatantly ignoring the massive aura of annoyance he's suddenly radiating, "you're sick, i'm right, and you're going to let me take care of you for once. got it?"

you certainly do expect some resistance, yes. you expect him to shoot straight out of bed and find something to keep him occupied, expect him to bluntly refuse your words, because god help him if he has to rest and do nothing. what you don't expect, however, is the way he pulls you down and forces you to lay with him.

you stay silent for a moment, listening to his heartbeat as you register the sudden movement.

"...this isn't taking care of you, si."

"it is." a short answer, as usual. "gonna be my personal heater, break my fever."

he can practically hear you rolling your eyes, but he keeps silent, awaiting further protest. but you're pretty tired yourself, and god damn, this man is too stubborn for his own good. you'll give in just this once, just for now.

"...that's such bullshit." you mumble, pulling the blankets over you both. "ten minutes, that's it. i gotta run to the store to get more meds. we're almost out."

he only offers a small noise of acknowledgement, arm gently wrapping around your waist as he holds you just a little bit closer, pressing a brief, light kiss to your head. god, he's warm, you think, and somehow, ten minutes turns into fifteen, twenty, forty-five... and then you suddenly wake up four hours later.

you're a little disoriented, a little groggy, a little confused-- because when did it suddenly become night? and does the store close at nine or does it close at ten? is it too late to go? and why do you feel so hot?

maybe it's because simon's actually the damn heater, and being bundled up in all these blankets does little to help. surely that's it.

...surely. right?

"...si."

he's half asleep when you speak up, instinctively tightening his grip on you.

"what?"

"why is it so hot?"

he groans slightly as he shifts in bed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. a beat, a pause. you do feel strangely warm, he thinks.

huh. you almost think you feel him smiling against you.

"i fear you may be sick, dove."

oh, if looks could kill, simon riley would be a dead man a thousand times over.

"...shut up, simon."

( did you wake with a fever? yes. did a certain someone give you his little cold? yes. did you get moderately annoyed? absolutely. but did said person recover first a few days later and take care of you as a means of apology? also yes. so do you forgive him? for now, you suppose. for now. )

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Fallingforyou

Imagine

Luke Hughes x Latina!reader

synop: a few moments where y/n mistakes Luke's kindness for being best friends, but they mean something more, it always does.

a/n: besties to lovies, the notebook is mentioned ofc, my work feels rusty but hopefully u enjoy ;)

cw: reader gets black eye in non-violent type of way, one cuss word I think, joke about being mugged, drinking, sweetie pie & Lu pet names hehe

You were one of the very few to see Luke Hughes. The turtle under the shell. It took time to see the real him but quickly over time he peaked out every now and then. He didn’t know why but he felt a different kind of my comfort around you. A comfort where you knew wouldn’t judge him. Maybe as a joke you would tease him but both of you knew you didn’t mean any harm. So he let walls come down to a complete stranger. A stranger he had just met, a stranger that he would fall in love with over and over again.

“You need to be more careful."

It was any other game day that you could attend. Wearing his number after you persuaded for him to buy for you. “Who else am I going to represent? Certainly not Jack…no offense.” you joked years earlier when you first started to cheer for him in person. He was surprised to hear you to bring up the idea but quickly got you your jersey the next day.

It was any other game day besides the slowly bruising black eye your friend gave you hours earlier. It was childish really, you two were messing around and dared each other to wrestle on the living room floor, and one maneuver led to your left eye hitting the couch’s arm rest. It hurt like a bitch on impact and the stinging after but the ice your friend placed on your face helped.

You knew Luke would say something so you showed up to the arena with sunglasses, taking them off to see the game clearly but putting them back on to see him after.

“Nice assist Lu,” you hugged him after he changed

“Thanks, what’s up with the shades?” he laughs poking at your glasses

“I thought they looked good with my outfit, what do you think?” You knew you weren’t fooling Luke, you were wearing jeans and his jersey, the basic outfit didn’t really need the sunglasses.

“How could have you seen my assist if you were wearing sunglasses?” His brows raise waiting for your response

You were about to come up with another excuse before Jack runs by snatching said glasses off your eyes, “Nice shades!” He yells as he jogs away, revealing your reddish purple turning bruise right under your eye.

“What the hell happened!?” Luke asks as he steps forward to get a better look, gently turning your head into better light.

“Nothing really, I was messing around and hit my eye on my couch. Don’t touch it.”

“Did you put ice on it?” He asks

“Of course I did Luke. Looks crazy though right?” You were kind of proud to have such an injury, it would heal eventually so why not be proud of it.

But Luke was not on the same wavelength, “Here. We gotta put ice on it." he grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the team's med room

"Luke I have ice at home."

"Just come."

The doc checked your shiner out by Luke's request and to no ones surprise, you were fine. He gave you an ice pack and Luke interrogated you on the way out,

"So what actually happened? You didn't just fall into your soft couch and get a black eye... No one hit you right?" you saw how his eyes slightly squinted

"I got mugged for my phone." you deadpanned. His eyes widened and his fists clenched, "But they clearly didn't win." you waved your phone in front of you with a big grin on your face.

"Thats not funny y/n." his features finally softened

You sucked in your smile into a flat one, "Sorry, me and y/f/n were wrestling and it ended with my face into the couch's hard arm rest and boom." you clapped for dramatics.

"You and y/f/n need to be more careful." he whispered in a stern voice making you smile of how many times Luke has said to be careful. Too many times than he would like that's for sure.

“Yes I can imagine.”

One of the many things Luke had to put up with to be your friend were the late night calls. You always watched your shows and movies at night. Sometimes with him but other nights when he was at his own place, you would call him to rant and give your movie review. This night you couldn't decide on a new movie to watch so you rewatched The Notebook for the nth time and it left you hollow like always.

You dialed Luke’s number mid sob after you finished the movie,

"Y/n what's wrong?" his voice was filled with concern as he heard your cries.

"Luke, you have to watch the notebook." you choke out, mindlessly staring at the rolling credits.

He paused in silence, "I already have y/n, I saw it with you, twice." he emphasized the word twice.

"Then you have to see it a third because it's just too good," you hiccup a sob before you started, "I mean- can you just imagine the love of your life writing you a letter everyday for a whole year and not knowing they existed!? god! it's heart wrenching. Noah Calhoun is the standard." Luke heard the same statement you have made many times before and with the same strong conviction. The change in tone in seriousness had him smiling on the other line holding in a laugh.

"Are you imagining?" you demanded after some silence,

"Yes I can imagine." he said in that sweet voice of his. He did imagine a love like Noah and Allie had. He would write a letter everyday to the love of his life if he knew for sure it wouldn't scare her away. He continued to hear your rambles he had heard before because it's the closest thing he can have insight on your views on love.

“I wish we met when we were kids.”

You were having a very small party for your birthday. You had the night off and wanted a quick but memorable celebration so you and close friends had dinner and a birthday cake in your cozy dinning room. You had help from your friends and Luke to decorate the place and it turned out better than imagined.

After dessert, and recreational drinking, gifts were handed out and it was Luke's turn. The one person you were excited the most to receive. He had gifted you a vinyl record of your favorite album,

"Thanks Lu but I don't have a record player" you laughed nervously

"That's why he bought you one too." Jack who had also been invited, carried a medium sized wrapped box that sounded heavy as he placed it in front of you.

"Dude she was supposed to unwrap it." Luke nagged at his brother spoiling his gift

"Oops, I thought it was obvious he would buy you both." he just shrugged his shoulders.

"I love it. Luke, you sweetie pie, thanks." Luke blushed as you called him his favorite nickname you gave him years ago. You hugged him before unwrapping the second gift. Behind your back Jack gave his little brother a wink.

The rest of the night consisted with setting up the record player and playing the album, playing board games, and more drinking than you should have if you wanted to remember the night. It was a bit too late when Luke had cut you off but the night was ending when people were leaving.

He was half-carrying you to bed when you drunkenly admitted, "You’re a good friend Luke, any girl would be lucky to have you that’s for sure.”

“Thanks,” he whispered as he helped you tuck into bed

“Can you stay with me? At least until I fall I asleep? I always feel lonely when I sleep alone, especially on my birthday.” you asked without any embarrassment.

“Of course.” He kicked off his shoes and got comfortable next to you. It wasn’t uncommon to be so close to one another but Luke always felt his heart race.

You were already under your covers, “Shouldn’t I change into my pjs?”

“You already did y/n.” Luke noted that you were very intoxicated and you wouldn’t remember the next moments.

“Oh crap, when did that happen!” Alcohol also made you delirious.

“An hour before people started to leave, you said you wanted to be comfortable, so now you're wearing your grinch pj pants."

You caressed the soft material, "I love my fuzzy grinch pants." "Hey don't you have a pair too?" you asked Luke from a lingering memory

"Yeah, we have a matching pair," he confirmed

"Because of last christmas... gosh that was a fun break, remember the snowball fight we had! we stayed out so long that your mom forced us to stay inside for the rest of the weekend."

“I remember. That was my favorite christmas.” He admitted,

“That was my first Christmas with all of you guys.” you realized out loud with some clarity.

Luke cleared his throat as he pulled out a small box from his pocket, “I have one more gift for you.”

“Wow. Three gifts. I must be important or something.” you joked as you took the box from his hands,

“You have no idea.” He whispered to himself but you were too preoccupied with untying the box to hear.

You opened the box to find a dainty gold swan necklace. Intoxicated or not you knew what the swan symbolized.

“Is this- what is this?” you asked in disbelief

“You know.” he stated softly

“If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.” You recited the line that always brought you to tears as you traced the minuscule details.

He watched how your tired eyes blinked slowly, “You can wear it in the morning.” He took the box and reached over to put it on your nightstand.

“Thanks Lu. You are way too kind. Scares me sometimes.” you snuggled into his side as a hug

"I wish we met when we were kids," you said.

“Why?” his arms found themselves around you caressing your arms.

“Because I would have spent more time with you. Having the title of growing up with Luke Hughes.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me then.” he said flatly

“I don’t believe that. Some friends of mine weren’t that great but you,” you point into his chest, “you are a true friend everyone should have at least once.”

“I was annoying as a kid.” he tried to deflect your words but it didn’t help.

“All kids are annoying. But you were probably the same sweet shy kid and I would have loved you for it like I do now.”

Luke had wondered the same, if, you two grew up together. Would things be different? Seeing and knowing you for longer than a few years. Luke didn't have to think too much before realizing he would have fallen for you inevitably.

You had cuddled closer to his torso if possible and started to close to your sleepy eyes.

“You should sleep,” he says

“Goodnight Lu”

“Night” he whispered softly

Once you fell asleep, he stayed in your bed a little bit longer. He thought of the nice words you said about him and thought of the possibility of you liking him back. He imagined at least 1% could have been possible. All he knew for sure, all that was admitted and shared that night would be forgotten on your part. He eventually left your place after leaving pills and water next to the gold necklace.

“I fell for you, hard.”

You woke up the next morning, almost afternoon, gulping the pills and water immediately. You noticed the dainty necklace and smile. You don’t remember exactly how you got it but you knew who gave it to you. You wore the necklace for the rest of days ahead.

A few days after your birthday you and Luke had plans to take a night ferry ride to see the city from the water. Another, belated, gift from Luke since you mentioned the idea a long time ago that you don’t remember bringing up.

You two ate dinner at your favorite spot and then headed out to the port.

“And I thought this was my last gift,” you fidgeted with the jewelry over your sweater.

He smiles at your recognition, “You never know, I might have another one after this one.”

“No more gifts please. I can’t compete when it’s your birthday.” you two shared a laugh as the ferry cruised by the city lights.

“As embarrassing it is, I don’t remember you gifting me this.” You motioned to your neck,

“I knew you wouldn’t remember. You were pretty gone by the end of the night.”

“Yeah I’m starting to regret that.” You leaned against the railing staring at the city

“How did you it was me who gifted you it?” He asked following your movements but not staring at the city view.

“Who else knows about my notebook obsession better than you?” You turned to face him, looking up at him even though he leaned down for you.

“Y/n.” his face drops into a serious one

“Luke.” you mimic his tone but with a smile

He breaks into a smile and laughs towards the water.

“You make me go crazy.” he says through a smile still looking ahead

“I didn’t do anything.” you laugh along at his demeanor

“Exactly.” his voice drops again

“I don’t get it.” you chuckle again but with uneasiness

“The night of your birthday. You said you would have loved younger me like you do now if we met then. What did you mean by that?” he turned to you this time.

“I said that?”

“Yes you did.”

“I guess I mean I would love you then like I love you now. You just said it yourself.” you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion leaving Luke frustrated.

“But what does that mean? When you say you love me now.”

“You don’t know what love means Lu? C’mon now.” you were deflecting in humor

“I know what love means. I want to know if we’re talking about the same type of love.”

“What type of love are you talking about then?” you asked in the same tone he had been using.

“The one where I gift you a necklace from your favorite movie. The one where I take the girl I’ve been in love with for years to see the city lights. The one where I would write you a letter everyday for a year.” he talked so fast it surprised you.

“You would write me a letter everyday?” is all you could get out.

“In a heartbeat. But I wouldn’t want it to come down to that because in the movie they breakup and that’s when Noah starts writing—“

He rambled off his reason but he was cut off when you pulled him in for a slow and soft kiss that quickly turned passionate. A loud a boat horn interrupts the moment and pulls you both away.

“Why didn’t I see this coming at all?” you asked yourself in his presence

“I don’t know. I thought I made it pretty obvious.” His comment would have made you laugh but you were still digesting that you kissed your best friend.

“I always thought that was you being you. The sweet Lu you always are.”

“I think you’re the only person who has ever seen that ‘sweet Lu’. You’re the only one who calls me sweetie pie.” he laughs as he rubs his neck.

“I mean that why I fell for you. How couldn’t I?”

“Right after we first met, I knew I was falling for you and falling hard.”

“I wish this happened sooner.” you said with teary smile.

He pulled you in and cradled your face, “I’m glad it happened at all.”

[jamiebluewind]

Eclipse the kitten update

(please don't glitch tumblr it's the tenth time I've tried!!!)

Previous post

Welp! Winter's boy has a respiratory infection. It was causing him to wheeze so to the vet we went! Luckily it wasn't a diaphram issue (which had us worried because of his umbilical hernia). His hernia also came up normal on his x-rays.

(X-rays left out because might bother people, but I can send them on request)

He's on meds several times a day and taking them like a champ, but had to be put in a pen with limited free playtime (because nothing will stop Mr Indestructible from running around the house with all the grace of a car with no breaks). We DID get a reply after just a week from a really nice person who was going to give us one (shocked us let me tell ya because it was BIG dog sized). Unfortunately, they left it outside for us to pick up and someone else just... took it. Right out of their yard. And since all we had was a small cat carrier to keep him in (which was kinda cruel for more than a day or two tops), we ordered a cat playpen that we got for a decent price. We kept looking until it got here, but no luck. Still! It's a nice playpen and we have it set up so he doesn't have to jump if he doesn't want to (plus more vertical to enjoy later on). Sarah's mom also let us borrow her water fountain!

We went to a new vet as ours was booked up (and he had already been wheezing a day). Everyone basically fell in love with him instantly. He left with a little toy from the tech, they gave Winter a jar of honey (one of the people in the office has bees and they wanted to give her something for caring about a kitten that most wouldn't have despite him having a treatable condition), and they've been checking in on how he is recovering (very well since I first typed this actually). He's basically got an entire vet office wrapped around his little paw.

Also, the non-profit we're taking him to for his surgery had a cancelation and his got moved up to the 12th! Counting down the days yall.

Because I gotta kinda mention it, this hit us where it hurts. Between the vet visit and testing, the pen, and the estimated cost for the surgery and followup, it's gonna cost us more than $2k (as long as nothing ELSE goes wrong). We're lucky that we're all super careful with our money, but there's only so much we can save up with three people below the poverty line. Still worth it though. I mean, look at this doofus

He is so stubborn that we can't leave scratch posts upright because he keeps doing THIS! XD

I'm linking Winter's paypal, but I 1000% understand if you can't help out. Still, a reblog and a word or three mean a LOT to all of us so if you got a minute, I'd love some new post additions to show Winter.

(Truth be told, the only reason all the updates are posted on my tumblr is because I'm the longest winded out of the three of us and I take like 5 billion pictures. XD )

Speaking of, there WOULD be a bonus pic of him and his sister (Melanite, aka Miel) playing under my chair as my cat (Danny) looks on from a safe place, but tumblr kept glitching when I added it.

Edit: surgery update

[walkawaytall]

I really wish there was more interest in how to handle ADHD other than just addressing the symptoms that affect the people around us.

Like, the best pharmaceutical treatment we have right now is stimulants, and I agree that being on stimulants 24 hours a day, 365 days a year is probably not good for your body. Hell, I’m on a less-than-ideal dose of my medication from a concentration perspective because the ideal dose had my resting heart rate sitting at a cool 115BPM. I know taking med holidays is important. I know all of this.

But because ADHD isn’t just an attention problem (or may not actually be an attention problem at all at its core), it sucks that the only time period medical professionals seem to be concerned about treating are the “important” times: the length of a school or workday. Forget the fact that ADHD affects executive function, forget the fact that people with ADHD often experience chronic and unending anxiety and/or depression as a result of the ADHD, forget that there are important times that have nothing to do with an 8-hour school or work day, forget the rejection sensitivity dysphoria, the sensory issues that make things like clothing, food, and group situations a nightmare to try to navigate, the household stuff that has to be taken care of outside of the 8-hour school or work day. It feels like none of that matters because it doesn’t affect a group of fifteen or more people.

On top of ADHD, I have been plagued with anxiety-related issues for the majority of my life. I likely have a form of OCD and I have a history with a restrictive eating disorder; both of those conditions are very closely associated with high levels of anxiety. I’ve been on anxiety medications before. I was first given an as-needed medication that took the edge off but also made everything feel a little fuzzy, like there was a pane of glass between me and the rest of the world; I was put on an SSRI that somehow made my OCD-related intrusive thoughts about 50x worse than usual and had me wondering at one point if I should be hospitalized; and I’m currently on buspirone, which is doing what it’s supposed to do without the side effects of the others thankfully. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has reduced my anxiety as much as my ADHD medication.

Two hours after my first stimulant dosage, I just suddenly didn’t feel on-edge any more. I estimate that being on ADHD medication has reduced my anxiety by about 70% (buspirone’s for the other 30%). I started taking it in the summer of 2020 and I remember, in 2021, when I saw my boss in person for the first time since lockdown, he remarked on how much more confident I seemed, how I was more likely to speak up in meetings, etc. And I was like…yeah, man, it’s a wonder what not feeling anxious every second of every day will do for someone.

ADHD affects so much more of my life than just attention and anxiety, too. I have sensory issues with mine, which is pretty common, and they make eating — an already sometimes-complicated task due to the ED history — difficult at times because, while I can eat foods that I don’t particularly like, if something is what I call “the bad texture”, I will gag no matter how hard I work to overcome it (believe me, I’ve tried). And my brain sometimes decides that foods that were previously fine are now “the bad texture” and they may or may not shift back to being okay eventually; I don’t know.

The sensory issues affect me socially. My therapist and I have recently come to the conclusion that I’m probably not actually an introvert, but if I’m around larger groups, that means noise and movement and probably being touched, and too much of that causes my brain to either freak out or shut down. I used to always say, “I love people, but when I’m done, I’m done.” And that was likely because the overstimulation was building and building in the background, and at a certain point, my brain would just be like, “We gotta get outta here.” I was Queen of Irish Goodbyes for a very long time because of this.

And the executive dysfunction affects…well..everything? Not just work, not just school (but also those because if my environment is chaotic, my brain feels chaotic, and it is difficult to maintain a non-chaotic environment if you keep getting stuck on order of operations when picking up a room).

I’m not saying that I want to be on longer-lasting stimulants or that I want to be on the higher dose that I know helps my concentration more, cardiovascular system by damned. What I’m saying is, I wish treatment research had been more holistic rather than just figuring out what would give teachers and managers an easier time despite what the person with ADHD might be dealing with as soon as their meds wear off.

Maybe current research is working on it; I don’t know. I just know that, the older I get, the more frustrated I am with my brain and the more apparent the deficiencies I used to be able to counteract with pre-chronic-illness energy and crushing perfectionism become, and I wish there was an answer to this that actually helped me most of the time rather than forcing me to pick which parts of my day/week is “important” and making sure I’m medicated for those parts.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Insanity

Christian Yu / Mr. Insanity x Y/N - drabble - 680 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: mania, manic behaviors, reader being slightly scared of Mr. Insanity, co-regulation, mention of medications, L bomb, fluff, v cute if I may say so myself

---------------------------------------

You woke up to the sound of plates clinking in the kitchen. You looked at the clock, 5:48 AM, Christian was never up this early typically. You shuffled out of bed and to the kitchen. You saw him racing around the kitchen, cooking god knows what. His body language was off. He seemed skittish - nothing like Christian or Mito.

“Baby?” you said from the doorway. 

Christian turned to you with a huge smile plastered on his face, he dropped the plates to the counter before rushing to you and enveloping you into a bear hug. You let out a squeak of surprise before he crushed his lips against yours. You pushed him back softly, trying to meet his gaze.

“I’m so glad you’re awake! I thought I’d make breakfast for us and then we could go out for the day! Maybe the Han River? Or Busan? Oh! Maybe we go abroad!” Christian said with excitement. He moved around the kitchen babbling away, so quickly it was almost incoherent.

Your eyes watched him cautiously; this wasn’t Christian or Mito. This was Mr. Insanity whom you had never met before. He was the definition of mania. 

“Did I tell you I went on a run this morning? It was so refreshing I feel invincible!” he said before sliding to the oven and taking out whatever was inside. “Ugh I just love you so much!” he said, looking at you from afar. 

You tried to keep your face calm as you took careful steps towards him. “Christian, honey…”

You saw him grimace ever so slightly at his name. 

“Hey baby, why don’t we go back to bed for a bit, hm?” you tried to suggest. 

“Oh you wanna go to bed?” he said seductively, quickly getting to you to slip his hands under your shirt and caress your hips.

You shook your head, “No baby… I think you could use a little rest, that’s all.”

“But I have so much energy!” he whined, backing up from you.

You grabbed his hand, “Insanity… baby please, you are a million miles away from here… I need you to come back down, to ground yourself in reality with me.”

Christian looked confused, then angry, then sad. “You don’t like me as much as Christian and Mito, do you?” he said, squeezing your hand.

You smiled softly at him, “I just don’t know you as well, but I’d like to. You just gotta come with me, we gotta regulate. When was the last time you took your meds?” you asked.

Christian didn’t meet your eyes, “A week ago… maybe more?” he mumbled.

You let out a small sigh, “Oh my love, you know you have to take them. The same with my pills, I have to take them. Why don’t we go take them together, yeah?” you said. After particularly bad lows with Mito he would often avoid his meds, blaming them for making him worse somehow. 

Insanity finally let his eyes meet yours, they were big and glossy. He nodded gently; you led him to your shared bathroom before filling up your cup of water. You placed Christian’s pills in his hand before grabbing yours. You handed him the cup first, watching him swallow them down. Then you took yours. 

His eyes held shame. You reached up to hold his cheek, “What is it my love?” you said. 

Christian held your hand against his face, “I just… wish I wasn’t so broken.” 

“Hey,” you said sharply, making Christian snap his eyes to yours. “You are not broken. You are wonderful. Christian. Mito. Insanity. I love them all. You are all I could ever want or need. I love you.” there was no room to question what you said, your tone was definitive. 

Christian shook his head, “I don’t think I can go to bed… Can we maybe watch a movie?” you could see his hands were still shaky and fidgety. 

“Sure baby, whatever you want. I need to get to know you, Mr. Insanity.” you smiled at him before dragging him to the living room.

------------------------------

Naboo's Note:

A quick fic based off a request I got! I based a lot of the manic behaviors off of my own manic behaviors (I have bipolar disorder with borderline traits) so they are as accurate as can be. I hope ya'll like it, please let me know or shoot me more requests! XOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!

[moonchild701]

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Staying In

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

Summary: You get sick and Dabi takes care of you

Pairing: Dabi/Gen Reader

Content Warning: SFW, Fluff, SickFic, Soft Dabi

Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 7th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Staying In

My Masterlist

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

You wake up warm, almost uncomfortably so, and slightly delirious.

The heat would be normal, what with your furnace of a boyfriend wrapped around you like a koala, if it wasn't the beginning of winter.

And because it's the beginning of winter, you got caught in the first snowfall last night on the way home from work.

And now your nose is stuffy, your skin is clammy and you feel cold enough to be shivering yet hot enough to be sweating.

You can't control the loud, full-body sneeze that escapes you, waking up Dabi in the process.

He looks down at you blearily, patting your head sleepily, and you must look truly miserable because instead of a complaint at the knee to the stomach you know he recieved, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Morning baby," he murmurs against your sweaty forehead. His voice is deep and raspy from sleep, and you melt that bit more into him as you usually do when you hear it.

"Morning." You croak out. Your throat is sore and feels like you swallowed sandpaper, and because of the sneeze, your head is now pounding and your limbs ache.

Burying your face in your pillow, you groan miserably at the pain, which wakes him fully.

You feel a warm hand guide you back and press to your forehead, then your neck. "Shit baby, you're burning up.", you can hear the concern in his voice, and it's very sweet, but all you can focus on is the uncomfortable heat seeping into your skin from his touch that you usually can't get enough of.

Squirming away, you force yourself up. "'M fine, I'll just take some meds. I gotta get to work." It comes out nasally, your voice somehow already worse, and your vision spins, but you sit up anyway.

Every movement hurts, and your eye is twitching from the headache, but you still try.

Key word, try, because Dabi almost immediately grabs you and pulls you back to lie down.

"Dumbass, you're not going anywhere in that state." He rolls his eyes as he gets up.

"But—" you begin to protest, struggling to sit up again, but he cuts you off, his pointer finger pushing you back down by the forehead.

"But nothing. You're sick. You can barely stand. You're staying home. Now be a good little patient and stay here while I get you some meds and something to eat, okay?" He barely waits for a response before he's already leaving.

You sigh, giving up, because you know he's right, and you feel really shitty. You won't be any good to do anything.

Gathering whatever little strength you have, you mentally prepare yourself for having to call in sick because your boss is a little bitch and you know it.

After a far too long call in your opinion, and hearing the horrible, croaky state of your voice, she reluctantly grants you the day off.

By the time Dabi comes back in with a glass of water and some meds, your headache has gotten worse from the light of your phone and her grating, nagging voice, and now you're extra irritated.

Downing them, you thank him. He rubs your cheek and you lean into the touch; the warmth now actually feeling nice on your clammy skin. Being sick is so fucking weird."Anything else, Dolly? You want some soup?" his voice is soft as he speaks, a small consideration for your headache, and you smile up at him. "I love you."

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll take that as a yes. I love you too, baby."

Tucking you back in, he murmurs, "Get some more rest. I'll wake you when it's done." You go easily, drifting back to sleep.

*****

When you wake up again, it's to the muted scent of mouthwatering chicken noodle soup.

The worst of the pain has dulled thanks to the meds, but you still feel sore all over.

Dabi momentarily rests the tray on the nightstand to help you sit up, stacking the pillows behind your back for support, before giving you the tray of soup and a glass of orange juice.

Taking a spoonful, the soup is heavenly to your ailing body and tastebuds, warming you from the inside out.

"Mm, where'd you order it from?", you ask, shoving another spoonful into your mouth.

His brows furrow, head tilting to

the side in that adorable way that reminds you of a cat. "I made it." He replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You pause mid eating.

“You...made it for me?” you're a bit perplexed, because to your knowledge, he can't cook for shit, and this is downright divine.

It's not what you would expect from the villain, especially with the way he lived up until recently, but from the way the so called "heartless, monster of a villain" people think of him as, loves you so effortlessly, so perfectly, you really should've known to expect the unexpected from him.

Dabi just scoffs, shooting you a pointed look. “Takeout soup is crap. This’ll actually help.” then, quieter, he says, "It's my mom's recipe."

Your eyes soften, setting the spoon into the half eaten soup and placing your hand over his on the bed. "It's delicious, thank you."

He looks away, a familiar faint dusting of pretty pink on the healthy skin of his cheeks, nodding jerkily.

You smile gently, going back to finish the soup.

You might be sick with something nasty, might not be able to get kisses from your loving boyfriend to avoid passing it on, might be losing out on some money, but you're happy.

It's cold outside, only going to get colder as the days go by, but you're warm in all the ways that matter, inside and out, because you're with the love of your life, loved and cared for, and so very cozy.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[estrellami-1]

Lay With Me (Sleep It Off)

Apparently one of the symptoms of covid is fevers… guess who just spent the last 5 or so days with a low-grade fever 🙄 it started with me waking up at 3am to use the bathroom, thinking I was fine until I got out of my (warm) bed and started shivering uncontrollably.

Also my eyes started hurting about halfway through so uh. If you see any typos. No you don’t ✌️

Steve wakes up to Eddie’s hand drifting over his skin.

It’s something that happens more often than not, nowadays, to the point where he rolls over and presses his hips to Eddie’s automatically.

Eddie’s hand stutters. “Baby?” He asks, and Steve frowns, because neither of them had expected him to be soft.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, still sleep-drunk. “Dunno.”

“You want it?” Eddie asks, then presses a kiss to his forehead and freezes again. “Oh, shit, baby, you’re hot.”

“Mmm,” Steve says. “Thanks.”

Eddie chuckles. “Though you are hot, that’s not the kind I’m talking about, babydoll. I think you have a fever.”

Steve frowns. “No, ‘m fine. Got work.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think fevers care about our work schedules.”

“Rude,” Steve murmurs. “They should.” He sighs and tucks himself closer to Eddie, because he’s warm and Steve is a little bit cold. “Time’s it?”

“Almost eight.” He runs a hand down Steve’s back. “You’ve got a little over an hour.”

Steve smiles against Eddie’s throat. “You were gonna make me late.”

“Was not,” Eddie retorts, even though they both know that’s a lie.

Steve hums and wiggles further into Eddie’s warmth. “Gotta get up,” he says, doing absolutely nothing to do so.

Eddie keeps petting Steve’s back, which furthers his resolve to do nothing. “I think you should stay home, baby. If you’re sick…”

“Not,” Steve argues nonsensically. “Don’t have time.”

Eddie sighs, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Okay, baby. If you’re not sick, then you need to get up and get ready to take a shower, right?”

“Mhm,” Steve mumbles. “Come with?”

“Of course I will, baby. Following your lead here. You gonna get up?”

Steve groans, strangely feels like crying as he detaches himself from Eddie and shuffles across the bed to sit on the edge.

He stands after a second and walks to the closet, realizing as he’s reaching for a shirt that he’s trembling, shivering. He’s suddenly, viscerally aware of how cold he is, and he can’t stop his teeth from chattering as he looks to Eddie with a furrowed brow.

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, pulling him into a hug and taking some of his weight. “You’re sick. You should be in bed.”

“No,” Steve murmurs, ashamed at the tears pricking at his lids. “Can’t- need to work-”

“I’ll call Robin,” Eddie soothes. “She’ll figure it out, ‘kay? But you know as well as I do that she’d tell you to stay home, too.”

Steve sniffles. “Don’t wanna be sick,” he mutters petulantly.

Eddie runs a hand through Steve’s hair. “I know, baby, it’s not fun, is it? Let’s get back in bed, I’ll make you a hot tea and call Robin, and then I’ll be right back and we can cuddle, alright?”

Steve nods slowly. “Tell Robin sorry.”

“I will, baby. You just focus on getting back into bed now, there you go. And I’ll be right back, m’kay?”

“‘Kay,” Steve agrees, letting his eyes slip shut again as chills continue to wrack his body.

Soon enough Eddie’s back with a tray of dry toast, hot tea, water, and some painkillers. Steve startles awake even though he’d only been half-asleep, and Eddie apologizes, rushing to place the tray down so he can assist Steve’s shaky arms in lifting his body to a seated position.

Steve is handed the water and meds first, then considers the tea and toast and shakes his head, trying to apologize. “It’s okay, baby,” Eddie murmurs. “They’ll keep, you need to eat something today, I’ll just heat them up later. I just wanna do what you need, m’kay? Right now your bodu is saying it needs more rest, and that’s just fine. C’mon, come lay down with me, go back to sleep, okay? Let’s try and sleep this off. I bet when you wake up, you’ll feel a hundred times better.”

“M’kay,” Steve murmurs, tucking his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. “Thank you. Love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” Eddie whispers, sealing his vow with a kiss to the top of Steve’s head.

And with that, he drifts off to sleep.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[sadie-bug345]

greasers when they’re sick

i myself have been deathly ill for the past week so whilst i am bedridden i’m writing this🤡🙆‍♀️🤩 ANYWAYS LETS GO

ponyboy:

hates missing school solely cause my guy despises talking to teachers abt what he missed

also cause he thinks he gets super behind when guy just skipped one day of school😭

probably holes himself up in his and sodas room and when soda comes in to check on him after work it’s like PITCH black and pony is just sitting in a pile of tissues

”what do YOU want?” says pony with a voice similar to kermit the frog cause bros nose is SO stuffed up

and soda just assumes pony is in one of his moody, poetry reciting moods again and slowly exits the room, leaving only a baloney sandwich in his wake💀🤡😭

johnny:

def the type to not accept help

like he would go to school sick and the second someone brings up how his voice is screwed up he’s like 😐”what’re you sayin bout me?”

if the gang does quarantine him to a room he’d def just be able to entertain himself and prob come up with his own secret language and fictional multiverse or smth

idk he just gives the type to be fully okay with being alone for a bit but the meds he’s on make him all wacky too so it’s an interesting mix for sure

sodapop:

i’m sorry this guy has the most nastiest cough 😭

idc if he doesn’t smoke a lot he just got those mucusy coughs

other than that everyone’s having a good time, making jokes and feeling good and then soda pauses his laughter and unleashes the most rattley cough and then everyone just goes quiet and he just looks like 😃

definitely unfazed by sickness in general

until one day my guy just has the worst time and breaks downnnn🥰

we’ve all been there too esp when you’re sick and shit just goes downhill and everything sucks and you hate everything and everyone

darry:

now johnny doesn’t accept help but that’s NOTHING compared to darry

he has peak older-sibling syndrome and is just used to only helping other people

so when those people that he takes care of flip the script, my guy is just weirded outtt

like he def appreciates two trying to make him soup but he just doesn’t know how to react

goes lowk crazy with not being able to work or straighten up the house just cause he always feels like he’s gotta do SOMETHING productive with his time

dally:

i’m sorry but guy is def the type to go to school FULLY sick and either not say a word about it or complain like a lil bitch the whole time

also he totally smokes while he has a cough like soda which is so unhealthy i can’t even😭

just overall his habits and life doesn’t get upended by “some fuckass cold” (his words, not mine)

like bro please you just gotta rest sometimes😭

the gang is able to get him to stay at the curtis’ couch one day and bro just WIPES OUT

istg he’s out for like 15 hours straight in the full daytime and everyone is scared to walk past in case they wake him up

but dally is a crazy heavy sleeper so he actually gets a lot better after calming down for once🥰

two-bit:

honestly stays home from school like a normal person

except bro gets one cold and then just doesn’t show up to school for like two weeks😭

and it’s not cause he’s a wimp it’s just cause guy finds an excuse to skip out for a so called “vacation” and he rolls with it

and then he’ll just spawn back in on campus like a month later like nothing happened and everyone just expected two to take a dare too far and end up in the hospital🤡

steve:

CANT STOP WONT STOP

bro just pushes thru the pain😭

he probably takes way too much of the recommended dose of general meds (don’t do this please🧍‍♀️)

and then goes all loopy for hours straight

and people are kinda sus about it but honestly it’s steve so who is really all that surprised

LMAO THAT SOUNDS MEAN SORRY STEVE

ANYWAYSSSS i think imma post a romantic kinda sick reader x greaser thing so that’ll hopefully come out soon while im still coughing my lungs out🫶

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 15

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14

I was awoken by a gentle tugging on my arm. “Fuck off, Athena,” I mumbled. She always did this, raring to go at too-fucking-early o'clock. “We've got nothing important to do, there's no rush.”

“Yes, there is,” came the response. Too deep to be Athena and too feminine to be Brett, I consigned myself to the grim day at the hands of Mrin. Goodness knew what she wanted with-

Ah, fuck. The memory of the previous day rushed into my brain with a mental ‘pop’, and I winced. “Bloody, fucking hell. We gotta stop that thing, don't we?”

Mrin, somehow looking more alert than me, nodded. “Yep. According to my prediction, she's gonna overrun this entire place if we let her. Already, she's begun expanding. Give her two more days, and who knows what we might be facing?”

With a sigh, I rested my head against the wall. “Great. Just fucking great. Can't we run? Brett and Athena aren't gonna be rescued either way, and I don't think they'll want us to die fruitlessly.” A second thought adjoined itself to my grumbling, and I found myself adding, “Besides, you shouldn't be in action right now. You had some god-awful kind of infection just now, and you were half-dead.”

Suddenly discomfited, Mrin shrugged. “Look,” she said, “It's complicated. What happened to me… Let's just say it was a occupational hazard. Thanks for cleaning me up, though. I'm better now.”

That statement did not make me feel better. On top of this hostile shithole, on top of Brett and Athena's deaths, on top of that monstrosity roaming the halls, Mrin was hiding something from me? Had been hiding something from me? Would continue to hide something from me? Did our years of travelling together mean nothing? Damnit.

I trusted her, yes. I'd always trust her. That was just how a partnership worked. But it was the first time I'd ever considered that this didn't go both ways, that she was lying to me. Probably for my safety, or perhaps for her own, but it still stung. It was another straw upon the back of a struggling camel.

She saw it in my eyes. “Look, Doc, it's complicated. After this is all over, I swear I'll tell you everything. No more secrets between us, okay?” There was a pause, as though that promise cost her something. “And, speaking of which… Did you mean it? What you said while you were trying to wake me up, I mean.”

Oh. That. For a moment, the old Doc, the one who got himself blackout drunk on the day of his med school exams and flirted with every woman in the bar came rushing back. Refutations landed on the tip of my tongue, as familiar as the lies I'd always told myself. I forced them back down. Had I not made a promise to myself? To not take the easy way out, as I'd always done?

“Yes. I meant it. I love you, Mrin. And I'm no poet. I don't have a way with words, or a thing for grand gestures, or even the ability to make this… place romantic. All I can offer you is what I've already given: a steady pair of hands and a partner to watch your back. You don't need to love me back. I know I'm a difficult man to love.” I found myself gripping her hands and looking into her eye. “But I hope you do. I really do. I hope you love me like a rock against the stormy sea, like the sun rising in the East every day, like a couple growing old together.” 

“There's a word for that,” she whispered back, leaning in close. “I can't recall it, but I know the Greeks gave it a name. I know it means sensible love. And I know- I know I love you.” She pulled me into a hug, resting her chin on my shoulder. “Never figured I'd find love, you know. Always thought that was for women prettier and smarter than me. Of all things, to find it here and now…” 

A tiny sigh escaped her lips, like the swish of a guillotine. I didn't like that sound, not one little bit. “Doc, there's something I need to do.” Her fingers dug into my clothes. “I- Stay here, will you? Wait for me.”

We disentangled from each other, and I said, “I'll wait for you forever if need be. After all, we did wait for each other all this time.” 

Mrin pursed her lips, the sides of her eyes crinkling up. “Yes, I suppose so. Aren't you gonna ask me what I'm gonna do, though?”

(next bit's gonna have a surprise hehe)

Taglist: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil?

WIP Wednesday (8/21) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 227)

The rest of Monday is uneventful, compared to this morning's... debacle. They go to practice and Andrew avoids Aaron like the plague. He's not embarrassed, per se. Maybe he is. He's not sure how he feels. He doesn't want to think about it.

And it works out because his twin doesn’t bother to look at Andrew, let alone try to speak to him. Nicky obviously knows something went down between them, but he just awkwardly pretends everything’s fine— classic Nicky. Kevin is the one who asks what happened. Because their feud means they're not working together like they're supposed to.

“Nothing,” Andrew insists, after the thirtieth time. “Aaron is always like that. Angry and rude. Not like me at all. I’m laid back and happy-go-lucky. Did you know I double-knot my shoelaces? Aaron doesn’t do that.”

Kevin gives him a bewildered look and it takes Andrew a moment to realize it’s because he’s said something insane. Well, Kevin should be used to it. Andrew should be used to it. He took his meds after roof time this morning. (Had to. His stomach was churning and he was breaking into a sweat.) And he feels like a balloon. One that someone let go of the string to a long time ago. And now he’s just up, up, up. And away.

“Listen up, you good-for-nothings,” Coach says at the end of practice. “Gotta tell you we can’t have practices for the next three days.”

A collective groan rings out around him, Kevin’s being the loudest. Before he can start to bitch, Wymack holds up a hand aimed in his direction. 

“I know, I know. Can’t do anything about it. The court’s needed waxed for months and they finally decided to grace us with their fucking presence. No practice till Friday. If you show your faces around here before then— talking to you, Day— I will take your keys away. Understood?”

"Yes, Coach." Kevin huffs out. Then they're dismissed.

“Happy birthday to me!” Andrew sing-songs on the way into the locker room. Kevin whines like he’s been mortally wounded.

“How can you say that? We have a game on Friday for fuck’s sake.”

“Try not caring, Kevin. It’s done wonders for me.” Andrew says before shucking out of his uniform and heading into the showers.