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strwbrrypoundcake · 3 months ago

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This is my current routine/rules for keeping myself healthy-ish while having an ed (kind of harm reduction

Tw cals, food mention

I never eat less than 600 cals a day, it leads to binging and depression for me.

I don't do extremely intense workouts. For me, it raises my cortisol levels and leads to feeling weak and binging. I do a mobility exercise video in the morning and then I do a walking workout video in the afternoon. Though if I get a job that will change slightly, but still the same intensity.

I take vitamin d, vitamin e, folic acid, iron, and magnesium + zinc.

I use ogx's coconut miracle oil at least 1 hour before I shower, it protects hair from water fatigue

I use ogx's coconut oil serum, I spray an argon oil leave in conditioner on damp hair then a very small amount of serum.

I eat tuna and/or salmon 3 times a week. You can also take fish oil supplements or eat an omega 3 trail mix but I prefer fish because it has a lot of protein

Speaking of protein, I eat as much as I can. It can be hard because the diet foods I eat don't have a lot. Here's a list of foods I eat that have protein:

Dannon light and fit Greek yogurt (80 cals, 12g protein)

Protein powder in coffee (about 36-38 cals depending on the brand, I use 2 tablespoons and blend it with 4oz almond milk and pour it in my coffee. You can also buy it pre made, super coffee is 80 cals with 10g protein. They also sell creamer with 15 cals 1g protein)

Fish like salmon and tuna

Frozen meals. Healthy choice has power bowls that normally have about 20g of protein or more for 300+ cals. Most frozen meal brands have a protein line

Pb2. I use this when I have a banana so there's protein with it, 60 cals and 6g protein

Protein bars, my favorite is the quest white chocolate raspberry

__________________________________________________

Water, self explanatory. Try to use electrolyte packets, low calorie and very needed. Propel is the brand I prefer

I take naps. When I work I take naps on my days off, must be at least 30 minutes but preferably 90 minutes. Sleep is so important

If you struggle with sleeping too much, add more fruit/cals into your diet. Get a really loud alarm and the first thing you do when you wake up is eat a citrus fruit or a banana. I know bananas are scary but they work great. Cut one in half or get small ones and eat one a day. And of course coffee can help. Drink green tea with lunch, caffeinated.

Using a shampoo and conditioner that work well for my hair. No, drugstore haircare will not ruin your hair. If you have the trademark dry, brittle hair that comes with this, use a sulfate free shampoo, and a conditioner with silicones in it, use pre shampoo oil treatments and limit how much you wash your hair. Use a clarifying shampoo once a week or once a month depending on how dry your hair is. Try to get a satin bonnet to sleep in or spray leave in conditioner and use a hair oil then braid your hair before bed. Trust me, hair oil on your mids and ends can help. Ogx sells mists for fine hair, those work great. If you have thick hair use the coconut serum. Make sure you're using leave in conditioner after showering

Be insanely gentle with your hair, no elastics or tight hairstyles. Comb your hair with your fingers first, gently detangling with your fingers before brushing from the bottom up, very lightly. Use leave in conditioner before you brush. Use a wide tooth comb on wet hair and do not rub your hair with a towel. Gently squeeze until excess water is removed. Try to limit brushing with a hairbrush or comb to once or twice a day.

Use cuticle oil, ideally it has vitamin e in it. I got mine off Amazon. Make sure it's on your cuticles and nails

Use lotion on your body after every shower. I know it's annoying and tiring but it will help combat the dull skin that happens, try to find one with hyaluronic acid

For face skin, use a gentle cleanser or just water unless your skin is oily, then you can get away with more medicated options. Use a moisturizer with hyaluronic acid in it. My top picks are peach slices snail rescue moisturizers (regular for normal to dry skin, oil free for oily skin), vanicream daily facial moisturizer with hyaluronic acid and for very dry skin cerave moisturizing cream in a tub (you can find knockoffs, mine is Walmart brand)

Cleansers I like for when the 3d effects skin is vanicream gentle cleanser, cerave sa cleanser for if you still have oily skin, Cetaphil sensitive skin cleanser and CeraVe cream to foam cleanser (you can find knockoffs for most of these products)

Use a niacinamide serum if you can afford it and your skin can handle it, it will brighten up your face.

I use a body serum but it is not a necessity, but for anyone who wants to try it I use the b.fresh brightening body serum, you could also use their dull to dewy one, its also good

I eat healthy fats, this comes from peanut butter, fish, avocado, eggs, dark chocolate and chia seeds

I have one day a month that I can have a normal portion of food I really want but make me guilty normally (Chinese takeaway, taco bell, Wendy's, McDonald's etc) it cannot be a binge, but it would be more than I normally eat.

This is not intentional but on Friday and Saturday I do eat more because I am with my boyfriend. All normal portions for the most part. I just eat more and things I wouldn't normally have like regular peanut butter honey toast, poptarts, spaghetti, etc.

I try not to weigh myself every day. I don't weigh in on Sunday or Monday because I know I will be bloated from the increase in cals

I use a cavity preventing toothpaste and mouth wash. And I at least floss once a day. I use whitening toothpaste one day a week for both times I brush that day

These things help me stay healthy and sane while I am currently in the midst of my 3d. Not all of them will work, but maybe some may be useful to others.

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fillyboy19 · 1 year ago

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Help Her be Brave

Hizashi whistles happily as he walks down the empty hallways. The last day before break is always exhausting, but for once it coincides with his vacation time and he isn’t going to complain about being the last to leave. No students asking about extension or extra credit. No villains to fight with. No program director to pick apart his talk show theme. And especially not Shouta around to tease him and tell him that he can’t handle a crisis situation.

That one still smarts. He hadn’t panicked – he just hadn’t been ready for such an intimate, sexual question in an English class with Nedzu and the HPSC commissioner watching him. He’d been spluttering and red-faced and Minoru had had the gall to stare up at him blankly like asking about jacking off in the middle of his class was a perfectly normal thing that they did all the time.

Hizashi can feel the tension building in his shoulders at the memory and he stops to take a deep, centering breath and let it out before continuing down the hallway. Nope. Not gonna let it bother me at all. All he has waiting for him now is pure, blissful relaxation as soon as he locks up.

The classrooms around him are empty, long since deserted of both teachers and students rushing home for their winter break. He’s lost in his own thoughts about his vacation plans, lounging pants-less on the sofa and eating potato chips while he binge-watches reality TV shows, when something grabs his attention. There shouldn’t be anyone left in the school this late and his senses go on high alert. He freezes in the hallway, waiting for the sound to reach him again. It sounds like someone’s crying.

Hizashi moves silently down the hallway, pressing his ear to each door he passes. He thinks that he’s ready for anything, for whatever villain or injury he finds. He tries to remind himself that Yuuei is secure, that there hasn’t been a break-in once over the last two years, not since before the war. It’s only once his ear is pressed to the door of the girls’ bathroom door that his stomach churns, and he realizes that this might be something a bit more complicated than a simple villain attack.

He knocks loudly on the door, but the sniffling inside doesn’t stop. He props it open just an inch, keeping his eyes focused on the corridor’s grey walls. “Hey, little listener. Is everything okay in there?”

When he’s met with only more crying, he slowly pushes the door open and walks in. The stalls nearest him are open and empty and he lets his gaze slowly drift around the room until it lands on a small form, partially obscured behind the row of sinks. As he gets closer, he realizes that it’s one of Shouta’s students. “Uraraka? Are you okay?”

Ochako’s face is buried in her arms, something small and plastic clutched tightly in her fingers. When Hizashi kneels in front of her, and tentatively pulls on what she’s holding, she releases it easily enough. He isn’t prepared for what he’s looking at. It’s such a small thing, a tiny piece of plastic with two little purple lines staring up at him. He knows all too well how life changing what he’s holding in his hands is for his young student.

I am not equipped to deal with this…

“I don’t know what to do…” Ochako sniffles, finally pulling her face from her arms. Her cheeks are puffy and tear-stained, her eyes red-rimmed and tired, and Hizashi can’t help but wonder how long she’s been sitting in here. “My parents are going to be so disappointed. I’ll have to drop out of the hero course and– and… Katsuki. I don’t know how he’s going to react when I tell him.”

Hizashi struggles to process everything that he’s been told. “Do you want to tell him?”

Ochako looks up at him as if seeing him for the first time.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Hizashi shuffles until he’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with her on the floor. “It’s your body and no one can tell you what to do with it.”

He watches as her head sinks forward into her arms again, and he pats her shoulder. He can’t imagine the weight of what she must be going through. “There’s resources available to you. No matter what you decide to do, there’s help to get you through it so you’re not alone. I can grab the pamphlets from–”

“Please don’t leave.” Ochako’s fingers are tight on his arm.

He can feel her strength, even through the thick leather of his jacket. He pats her arm gently to reassure her. “I’m not going anywhere, little listener.”

She pulls out her phone and stares at him for a moment before pinning Hizashi under a look of pure desperation. “What do I say?”

Fuck, where’s Shouta? He’d be so much better at this. Hizashi wishes he had his phone, but Denki had fried it during training this morning. “Why don’t you tell him to come to the classroom, and we’ll meet him there?”

“You’ll stay with me?” Ochako’s eyes are watery and yet she finally manages a weak smile.

“Yeah, kiddo.”

He watches her as she sends the message and then leads her to the classroom. Shouta’s sleeping bag is rolled up on the floor behind the desk and he can finally see the appeal. He hasn’t even done anything, and he wants to curl up in it and go to sleep.

Hizashi knows that he should be comforting Ochako, talking to her and keeping her calm – or at the very least, he should be planning whatever it is he’s going to tell these two kids about the situation they’ve found themselves in. He waffles between the two options for so long that he ends up doing neither and he finds himself still staring down at the bright yellow sleeping bag when Katsuki opens the door.

The explosive hero pins Hizashi under a dark glare, as the man had personally done something, before rushing over to Ochako and wrapping her arms around her. “What happened?”

“I think it would be good if you both sit down while we talk.” Hizashi leans against Shouta’s desk and waits patiently while Ochako and Katsuki follow his lead. He still isn’t sure what he’s going to say or how he’s going to actually start this conversation. He hasn’t even thought about how the explosive hero-in-training may react or–

“I’m pregnant.”

Oh, shit… Hizashi inhales sharply, gaze darting back and forth between Ochako’s down-turned face and Katsuki’s wide, crimson eyes. It feels like everything around him has grown incredibly still, and he doesn’t realize that he’s holding his breath until it begins to burn in his chest. The room is awkwardly silent, no one saying anything, and Hizashi’s mind races to fill in the gap. Focus on keeping the situation calm. No, offer resources. Council first. Council on what?

“What? I mean how...” Katsuki trails off as he stands and begins pacing. He doesn’t look at Hizashi or Ochako as he stomps back and forth. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, and he shoves them deep in his pockets as he continues to pace.

Ochako begins to curl in on herself in the face of Katsuki frustration and anger and Hizashi’s mouth starts to move before his brain has caught up to what he’s saying. “I know that both of you are probably in shock right now. This isn’t something either of you thought you’d be having to face but–”

“I’m not gonna run away from this if that’s what you’re thinking. What kind of hero would I be if I did?” Bakugou huffs softly and finally it seems like that familiar anger is deflating from him. He wraps his arms around Ochako and pulls her close. “I wouldn’t abandon you or the baby.”

Hizashi doesn’t miss the way Ochako stiffens in Katsuki’s hold. When he clears his throat, Katsuki backs away, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “Bakugou, I know you mean well, but Uraraka hasn’t decided what she’s doing yet and–”

“What the hell does that mean?!” Katsuki’s voice is loud and accusatory, echoing off the walls in the nearly empty room as he turns to face Ochako. “Of course, you’re gonna–”

“Sit down, Bakugou!” Hizashi’s voice comes out louder and much more commanding than he’d meant it to, and Katsuki does as he’s told almost instantly, butt falling into the nearest available seat.

He hadn’t meant to be quite so forceful. He knows that Katsuki is probably just as scared and worried as Ochako is, but he’s not going to let anyone bully the girl into making a decision she doesn’t want to. For a moment Katsuki seems to get his wind back, glaring furiously at Hizashi. He’s prepared himself for a verbal assault from the young hero when Ochako suddenly takes Katsuki’s hand in hers.

The blond’s expression softens instantly. Mere moments ago, the explosive blond had looked like an angry, vengeful hero. Now, with Ochako holding onto him, Hizashi can’t help but think that Katsuki just looks like a scared kid. He feels bad for yelling. Of course, Katsuki just wants to do what’s right. He’s a good kid. A good hero. All the emotions and adrenaline flaring through Hizashi’s body deflate and he sits back down on the edge of Shouta’s desk. “I know this must be hard for you to hear, but it’s Uraraka’s body and only she can decide what’s best for her.”

Katsuki’s hand slips from Ochako’s and he crosses his arms over his chest. Instead of curling in on herself though, Ochako kneels in front of her boyfriend. Hizashi can see that familiar resilience that he’s grown to know from her in their training classes surge forward, past her own worries and fears.

“Yamada’s right, Kats. I haven’t decided what I want to do yet. But I do at least want to hear what you have to say.” She strokes her thumb gently over his knuckles and Katsuki lets out a soft sigh, leaning forward until their foreheads touch.

There’s something in her eyes that tells Hizashi that, maybe, they can have a good conversation without him here. He gets up, quietly closing the door behind him, and waits in the hallway in case they need him. He can’t help but think that he didn’t need Shouta to handle this after all. That, maybe, the kids will be okay.

Written for @fandomforchoice Zine (Twitter)

Leftover sales are open here: fandomforchoice.bigcartel.com

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50599684

#kacchako #bodily autonomy #fanfic #bnha #fandomforchoice

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recoverywithgh0ul · 7 months ago

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Soooo, what i eat in a day, day 3 now! I know it’s not so many days, but honestly keeping a routine with this, has been really helping me honestly, so even if no one reading this, at the end of the day it’s beneficial to my mental health. So that’s all that matters honestly. >.<

Last night was thankfully much better than the night before, hunger wise, and today I’m going to actively be okay with eating outside “allowed times” I’m just going to be eating when I’m hungry, and not going to make myself adhere to rules that 1. Don’t work for me and 2. Make me feel stressed and guilty about literally just nurturing my body. This is of course my approach, if food schedules work you should definitely use them in a safe and healthy way :>

Breakfast~

Today i had a yogurt bowl with a mini doughnut, and some apple slices.

(Today i was craving doughnuts, so i decided to have a mini one with breakfast to satisfy that craving. Breakfast was overall really nice, and i really enjoyed it, especially in a mental aspect. I was able to have what i was craving, without feeling the guilt of binging a bag of tiny doughnuts or something. The most. Beneficial thing I’m learning in my recovery, is everything is okay in moderation, and if it’s apart of a healthy diet. I know that sounds basic, but in practice, it’s so true.)

Lunch~

So, for lunch, a repeat of yesterday *0* , honey turkey wrap, bbq kettle chips, and mini sweet peppers with a side of ranch and spicy garlic sauce, also the drink will be at the bottom where it usually is,,

(was so good tbh, maybe even better than yesterday, and I’m really proud off myself for enjoying a meal, feeling satisfied, and not feeling like shit. So whooop)

Snack~

So for a snack since i was just kind of peckish and going to have dinner soon, i still had some leftover saltines and PB from the other day, so i had the last two of those, and i also had the last of the little bit of yogurt i had in the container from this morning

( no pic because, eh, but i got a mediocre picture for dinner though lol)

Dinner~

So for the main, i have leftover spaghetti and some frozen Aldi meatballs, and a side of BBQ spicy honey Brussels sprouts and broccoli

(Today has been not the most productive day for me, and I’ve been kinda of craving comfort most of it to be honest, so being proud of myself for the little things is definitely going to be the theme for today. I can’t really say anything is really going on lol, I’m honestly kinda having a good mental day? And honestly that’s amazing. If you’re reading this, i hope you’re having a decent day, and if you’re not, please remember to be kind to yourself. Especially on days when it’s the hardest to <3 )

Snack~

So for a night snack i had, some mini bell peppers, some chips with a side of cream cheese, and two star burst things

(No pic of the starbursts but they were indeed eaten, i was craving something sweet, so i nabbed em. The ending of tonight was interesting, haven’t been feeling the most valid in terms of the fact that im unwell enough i guess. Bottom line is, i was and am struggling, and I deserve to have a good day. And if anyone is reading this, you do too <3 )

Drinks~

Iced coffee

Water throughout the day

Low carb energy drink(not for ed purposes, just because I like the taste >.<)

Another day, conquered. Sometimes, some days can feel the equivalent to slaying a dragon. I’d imagine anyway, idk. But i got through it, and that’s all that matters. I hope anyone reading this that’s struggling, remembers they are worthy of food, and are deserving of recovery. You can love yourself, you’re allowed to, i promise~ until tomorrow. <3

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duckymcdoorknob · 2 years ago

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tw for ed? hi ducky 'm sorry but could you do an emergency request with aizawa (mha) comforting male student reader for relapsing into their binge/restrict cycle and struggling with their inner thoughts? thank you so much in advance and for everything you do :((

Well hey howdy hey, Nonnie!

I’m gonna push this one up bc I’m feeling this hardcore rn.

If you need any help whatsoever please please please reach out to me.

I love you so much; you are NOT alone.

CW BELOW THE CUT: descriptive ED behavior.

𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑎 𝐴𝑖𝑧𝑎𝑤𝑎

When you had first enrolled in U.A, your eating disorder was at its absolute peak.

You were so dead set on how you looked, and what your prospective classmates may think of you, that you just couldn’t stop breaking yourself down.

However, a few months passed and you felt nothing but love and support from your classmates, save for the famously aloof Bakugo of course. (He may not show it, but he secretly does care about your well-being).

You had managed to keep yourself in a good spot with your relationship with food. It was easy to stay pleased with yourself when you were surrounded by great support systems.

You dared not tell a single soul about your ED. You figured that you had recovered, and that you could put the past behind you.

Oh how wrong you were…

During the attack at the USJ, you were unable to contribute any help to the resistance effort. All-Might seemed to be reduced to nothing in front of you, and you could only watch as your classmates fought their foot in the grave.

“Oh dear…” a voice cooed by you, “It seems being an accessory is all you’re good for. Perhaps if you trained like your classmates, you’d be able to defeat one of us.”

A villain, who’s name you didn’t know, came behind you and gently caressed your neck, electricity pulsing out of his fingertips.

After a quick shock to your neck, you were out like a light…

You awoke in Recovery Girl’s office, mind fixated on one thing.

“Perhaps if you trained like your classmates, you’d be able to defeat one of us.”

After that moment, you suddenly felt sick. You refused the food that Recovery Girl offered you, claiming that your mouth was numb from the electricity attack.

A week passed and you recovered, happy to return to your dorm room. You were glad to be back, but you were rapidly losing weight. This fact was to your great pleasure. You deduced that since all of the unwanted “fat” that you had was gone, you could focus on building up muscle and stamina.

You worked your ass off, so to say. Consuming no more than one meal a day, and vigorously working out at any free moment. Every time you stepped on the scale to see the numbers drop, you praised yourself.

As great as the high of losing weight was, you’d soon be faced with the consequences.

Overtime, you began to grow very lethargic. You could barely stay awake in your classes anymore, and were always freezing cold.

This didn’t go unnoticed by your teacher. He noticed your recent weight loss, and how you were behaving, and prayed in his mind that his assumptions would be false.

Unfortunately for both of you, they weren’t. During a particularly rigorous training session with your classmates, you had never been in a more terrifying situation.

“(Y/L/N), on your left!” Izuku cried, swiftly rushing to your side and punching the menacing robot.

“I- oh! Thanks, Midoriya!” You chirped, wiping the sweat from your brow.

Aizawa noticed your growing tiredness, standing at the ready in the event he had to step in and stop you.

You used your quirk to hoist yourself into the air, you effortlessly glided through with a smile on your face. You brought your arms up in defense of the robot in front of you, preparing for battle.

As you lined up for a punch, your vision blurred, your head squeezed in pain, and you felt your stomach cramp up hellishly. With a cry of pain, you fell quickly out of the air.

Aizawa couldn’t remember a time that he ran faster…

The dark-haired male absolutely sprinted to your side, diving down at the last minute to catch you in his arms. “I’ve got you, kiddo. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

You whimpered, arms around your aching torso. “H-Hurts, Mr. A-Aizawa.”

“Shhh. I know, I know.” Your teacher said gently, moving rising to his feet with you in his arms. “Stay with me, please. You can’t fall asleep on me until I know for sure that you’re safe. Do you think you can cover your ears for me?”

You nodded, doing so.

“LISTEN UP!” Aizawa suddenly yelled, “I have to take (Y/L/N) to Recovery Girl’s office immediately. Carry on with your training as planned. Iida, you’re in charge.”

The rest of your classmates ad-libbed their approval, and Shouta was soon carrying you out of gym Gamma.

“Okay, here’s how this is gonna go.” He said softly, “You can either tell me what’s been happening, or I can tell you what I think is happening. Either way, I have to know for sure.”

You opened your mouth to reply to him, but we’re only met with tears welling up in your eyes. “I-I’m-“

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t judge you. You’re not in trouble, and I won’t tell anyone. You’re safe with me entirely.” Aizawa hugged you close to him, hoping to provide you with some comfort.

“I- I can’t.” You whimpered.

Your teacher knelt before a bench, placing you on it ever so gently. He took both of your hands and looked into your panicked eyes. “(Y/N), you’re one of my students and I love you like a son. I couldn’t imagine the world if anything happened to you. So please, help me understand.”

You hung your head low as you cried harshly, “I- I do-don’t wan’ ea-eat anymore, M-Mr. ‘Zawa.”

The dark-haired male closed his eyes and sighed. So he was right… he pulled your shaking figure close to him and hugged you with the most gentlest touch. “I understand.” He whispered, “Thank you for telling me. You’re so very brave.”

The quiet corridor was filled with your anguished sobs as your teacher tried his best to reassure you. He tried to let you know that he was there for you no matter what.

“Hey, can I tell you something?” He asked, gently running his hand along the top of your head.

“M-Mhm.” You sputtered, hiccuping.

“You’re improving very quickly, and it’s not because of your physical appearance.” The male soothed, “I’ve noticed how much higher your grades are. I’ve noticed how your reaction time has skyrocketed. I noticed your speed and stamina are almost unmatched. I know I can’t fix this overnight, though I wish entirely in my heart that I could, but I will be with you every step of the way.”

“You shine like the sun in my class, and I would hate to lose my sunshine child. Lord only knows I’ve got too many buffoons to babysit, so it’s nice to have someone to look forward to in your class every day.”

This earned a chuckle from you.

“It’s just you and me, okay? I won’t tell a soul about this, except for Recovery Girl, so that she can help you exactly how she needs to. But this can be between the three of us. No one else has to know, and it certainly isn’t their business. Does that sound okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You replied with a yawn.

“Good. I know it’s all scary right now, and I know that you just want yourself to look and feel different, but I promise you this isn’t worth it. If you really want to work on your physique, I can help you with safe ways to do so. Regardless, you’re not in trouble whatsoever, and I’m incredibly thankful that you were able to tell me what was wrong. We’ll get through this together.”

Before he could say anything else, he noticed your peacefully sleeping figure against him. He couldn’t help but smile at you as he carefully hoisted you up to rest on his shoulder. “Didn’t I tell you not to fall asleep?” He whispered, adjusting you to rest comfortably.

“It’s you and me against the world, Sunshine Child.”

—————♡��✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

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br4influids · 2 years ago

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How the Obey Me brothers would react to me.

So I'm going to go ahead and put y'all in my shoes. I'm a chronically ill 16 year old, I've been diagnosed with Autism ADHD and generalized anxiety disorder. I tend to trust the wrong people like with my life. I struggle with bone marrow failure resulting in a lot of fainting but like while i'm still conscious I just can't see... or stand. Alright.

You arrived in the Devildom and you're absolutely terrified, like scared shitless. You're shaking and they can 1000% smell your fear. But you power through it and speak to these odd demons.

Lucifer:

Man thinks he got the wrong human.

This human is going to get killed. They just asked no questions and followed a demon home.

After a while he gets to know your personality and loves your dark humor.

He WILL let you follow him around like a lost puppy, you follow directions way better than any of his brothers.

He loves that he only has to scold you once and you'll never do it again. (He doesn't realize thats only because you're terrified)

This man is always watching you. These awful demons would love to take advantage of your blind trust.

Lucifer learns what situations you're okay in and when he needs to step in and help.

He would make sure you got all your meds on time.

Mammon:

He's probably laughing at this stupid, weak human at first.

He starts talking to you and realizes you're kinda cool... I mean no you're not. (Little tsunedere boy)

He would not leave you alone

Yes, you can follow me again. BUT it's only because I was trusted to watch you.

He'd randomly burst into your room only to find the countless pill bottles on your bedframe. He'd freak out and ask you about them so you explained your "wonderful" disease to him.

Man is watching you even closer now.

Bitch if you pass out in front of him and say your normal "I'm alright" line to him he'd be like WTF YOU'RE NOT "ALRIGHT"

The man loves you.

Levi:

Hey, you're not a normie? You watch anime and stream on Twitch.tv???????

Y'all are binging anime 24/7 and playing fucking Turnip Boy Commits Tax Evasion while streaming together.

His room is an actual sensory heaven

(I cant think of much more for Levi)

Asmodeus:

OMG YOU'RE SO CUTE AND QUIET LIKE A MOUSE

he loves the fact that you do absolutely nothing to stop him when he hugs you, you just kinda stand there and accept it.

He'll pamper you

He'll brush your curly short hair and style it.

Days you're in pain or too fatuiged to move you're getting special treatment. Hes giving you a warm melatonin bath, hes taking care of your hair and skin. he's giving you his most comfortable silk pyjamas.

Throwing pill bottles at you when you need them, he keeps them in his purse for you.

Hes dragging you around everywhere with him because he knows you have separation anxiety. And when you're out with him hes not letting go of your hand.

Satan:

He's done research on all your diagnosis' and medications.

He's ready to be the one to remind you about your meds.

Satan is the one to get called when you fucking fall over and basically pass out.

Oh, you like reading? Whats your favorite book?

He'll read you to sleep on the nights you can't sleep.

You're struggling to write an essay because its all about emotions which you can't explain? He's got your back.

He's ready to have a debate with the teacher to get you out of a presentation.

If you like cats just as much as he does you're going to get an emotional support cat for the house.

Oh, someone tried to take advantage of you? I'll be right back :)

Beel:

Why does this human keep forgetting to eat?

You're tired? I can carry you the rest of the way.

Excercise raises Dopamine levels, come work out with me!

You pass out he'll probably offer you food.

You're scared of the other demons? He'll keep them away from you :)

He's going to protect you from any anxiety triggers

Belphie:

Humans don't normally sleep this much right?

You explain your illness and he's helping you sleep on nights that you can't.

Belphie will set reminders on your D.D.D. to remind you to take your meds.

He'll hold your hand when out in public and try to shield you from any unwanted attention.

He is a little worried about how quickly your trust built with him even after he killed you. So he's sticking by your side at all times.

#obey me #obey me brothers

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saphirered · 3 years ago

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Hey! You asked for individual character requests, so how about Vex x Reader (I thought I’d give you a break from EXU as well), where the reader has a massive crush on Vex, but is unfortunately really scared of Trinket? And maybe something about Vex helping them to relax and bond? Thanks regardless! I love your writing x

Thanks for requesting! This was definitely a fun one to write so I hope you enjoy! 😘

You may or may not like Vex. Okay, maybe a but more than just like, closer to a major crush but how could you not? Vex’s intelligent, quick-witted, drop dead gorgeous and don’t even get started on the woman’s charm or you might just swoon. Gods above, you’ve fallen for the half-elf hard. The worst part; you know she likes you too. She’s stated so several times, flirting with you more than anyone else and not just to get something from you. She’s not shy about it and takes every opportunity she can get to make you blush. It’s great, or would be great were it not for your very reasonable fear for big hulking bears and Vex just happens to call one such bear her closest of buddies if not closer to a fur baby.

You’re not sure what to do. Trinket, you know, is nothing short of lovely but you cannot get over your fears no matter how much you may like Vex. You’ve kept your distance and retreated within your shell every time the big grizzly is around. Bears are scary. Sharp claws and teeth, super strong. They can climb, swim and run. They’re great trackers too so there’s really no getting away from them.

“Darling, do you have a moment?” You’re seated at the table scribbling away on some paperwork you needed to take care of. Someone has to assure there’s any food and drink left after Grog has one of his solo exclusive parties again. They’re not really parties and only consist of him inviting Scanlan and Vax for a night of binging food and ale until the sun comes up but you’re always out of groceries right after.

Vex peaks around the corner leaning on the doorpost arms crossed. You put down your pen and nod. Vex nods her own head to the hallways behind her and you get the message getting up and following her to wherever she’s leading you. There’s a determination in her step but she tries to cover everything else which leaves you worried just a bit. What’s she up to?

“Vex, where are we going?” You fall in line next to her as you begin to ascend the stairs.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve found the perfect sight I think you might enjoy and simply wouldn’t want you to miss out before the weather changes. I’d like to discuss some things with you too so, two birds one stone?” Okay that does sound like a reasonable explanation. Maybe almost a little too reasonable now you think of it. You continue walking until you’re stopped in front of a door, Vex opens it and allows you to step in.

Immediately you see the late afternoon sun shine through the clouds, casting rays of golden light upon the landscape contrasting with the darkened grey of the rain ahead. It’s an absolutely beautiful sight. You enter the room walking up to the window as Vex steps in and closes the door behind her. You hear a grumble and a soft but forceful ‘shh’ behind you.

“Just my stomach. I’m afraid I haven’t had lunch yet. Would you like to enjoy some with me?” You turn around at the offer, seeing the table to the side set with lunch for two and a huge plate of fresh fish. A brown grizzly tries to nibble on the tail of one fish in an attempt to pull it off the plates without his momma noticing and is quickly scolded.

“Trinket! What did I say! Stay hidden!” Vex scolds the bear as you squeal making a break for the door but Vex is quicker and grabs you by the arms stroking your shoulders in a calming motion as Trinket growls in shame, for disappointing Vex and being tempted by the delicious fish.

“Let me go, Vex.” You almost beg and Vex offers you a sad smile.

“I’m afraid I can’t just yet. I wanted to ease you into this but as we’re a bit short on time, we’ll have to take this route. Now calm down, just breathe, in and out. That’s it.” You do as she says, Vex guiding you and preventing a mental breakdown of being face to face with your fear in an enclosed space. Her presence makes it a little better knowing she at least is able to control Trinket to an extend and you know he won’t attack you outright but doesn’t get rid of the fear.

“Now, are you alright to sit down or am I going to have to tie you up to prevent you from running? I’m not opposed to the latter but I think we’d both prefer better circumstances.” Vex jokes, or half jokes. You know her well enough for that. You nod and she guides you over to the table, sitting you down on one chair while taking the other next to you, rubbing circles in your back to keep some nerves at bay as trinket makes himself comfortable, laying down, eyes closed but occasionally peaking, pretending to be asleep, much akin to a young child having been told to go to bed.

“Shall we eat?” Vex gestures to the set table and you have to admit the food does look divine, maybe minus the plate of fish though. You look between her and Trinket. You can do this. You’ve been in the same space as Trinket plenty of times before. Granted, those times the spaces were much bigger and there were several people between you and the bear at all times.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I could do with some food.” Your voice shakes but Vex smiles anyway. Small steps are better than none at all. She half expected you to have made a break for the window. She took all the precautions and ‘fear-proofed’ the room just in case. Awkwardly you’re eating and if Vex has learned one thing from animals is they don’t eat when they really mistrust the company, so people can’t be much different right? Vex attempts small talk asking you about your day and such and while you replied you always keep an eye on Trinket not so successfully pretending to be a sleep even mustering a fake snore.

Halfway through Vex keeps staring at you absentmindedly playing with her food leaning her chin upon her enclosed fist. She’s got plenty of ideas running through her head but all are circumstantial. Maybe she’ll go for a hail Mary.

“Darling, do you trust me?” The question makes you look at her confused. Have you done anything to show that you don’t? You don’t think so.

“Of course I do. You’ve saved my life more than I can count. I trust you more than anyone.” You admit a bit wary of where this is going but it’s Vex and what you said is true.

“Could you close your eyes for me?” You look between her and Trinket biting your lip. You do trust Vex but within your own head a battle between that love and trust for her and your fear for the big fuzzy animal rages on. What are you supposed to do?

Vex sees your struggle and gets up from her seat. She gracefully walks around the table making sure your eyes stay focussed on her and kneels down in front of you. Taking both of your hands in hers she squeezes them softly and gives you a gentle comforting smile.

“I want you to know your trust is not misplaced so I’ll give you this.” Vex takes the necklace from her neck and puts it around yours.

“Now I want this back when we leave this room but for now you’re in control of it. Will you close your eyes for me?” She asks once more. Her expression says enough to let you know if you don’t want this you don’t have to and literally anything but closing your eyes will show her you’re not ready yet and that would be okay. There’s no shame in taking small steps or finding a different approach. She’d come to terms with that too but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t relieved and happy when you nodded and closed your eyes.

Darkness. That’s all you see, and the occasional movement of light outside bleeding through distorting that darkness from time to time. You’re hyper focused on your other senses and you’re unsure wether that be because of closing one sense off or because you’re practically shaking with fear awaiting for that fight or flight reaction to kick in. You smell the sweet fruit from your plate, the gentle kick of the fermented grape juice, and of course the slight saltiness of fresh fish. You hear a grumbled moan and the sound of paws-no sharp nails hitting the fine stone floor step by step almost drowned out by the soft whispers of encouragement of Vex.

Trinket, as quietly and carefully as he can makes his way over to you. Vex shushes him a couple of times and the bear loyalty obeys the commands, laying down at your side. Vex takes one of your hands and you jump a little when she does so she turns to rubbing circles in the back of it as she guides your hand away from your lap towards Trinket.

“You’re doing great.” Vex can feel the gentle shake of your hand but you don’t resist so very slowly she guides you towards Trinket until your fingers touch his fur. You breathe in sharply holding your breath upon contact and freeze up, waiting for something to happen, be that a sharp claw slashing out at you, teeth munching down on you, a roar in your face but none of these come. Even Trinket awaits in suspense for your responses, his bear senses giving him enough insight in your discomfort.

Once you’ve gotten a moment to adjust Vex takes her hand off yours watching both you and Trinket. You don’t dare open your eyes yet but in the back of your mind you hear words of encouragement. You’re doing great. You got this and before you know it your fingers glide, all be it a little rigid and awkwardly, through Trinket’s fur.

“Perfect, darling. You’re doing absolutely wonderful.” You nod afraid to speak and break the spell you definitely must be under with this newfound courage.

Vex couldn’t be more proud of you. When you walked in here she wasn’t even sure she could have you be in the same room as Trinket for more than ten minutes and now you’re petting the bear. She watches as you slowly peak through one eye and when you deem the coast clear open the other too watching in amazement.

“He’s so soft…” You breathe barely audible and Vex laughs. Trinket grumbles at the compliment making you pull away your hand and jump a little but when no repercussion comes you put it back and continue petting the bear, who begins purring softly almost akin to an oversized cat. You can still feel your heartbeat in your throat but this is going relatively okay until you begin seeing spots and you start feeling dizzy. Vex notices and pulls your hand away from Trinket offering you your glass.

“Maybe that’s enough for now? We’ll take it easy.” You nod and feel the nerves subside as Trinket returns to his comfy spot by the window. It may be best not to push your luck and drive yourself into a panic attack.

“Don’t worry, darling. Before you know it we’ll have you riding into battle on Trinket’s back. Won’t you like that Trinket?” She shouts over her shoulder to the bear who replies in a happy moan. Vex pours you another glass of wine after she watches the colour drain from your face. Let’s stick to small steps. But for now, the first ones have been taken. Besides, she can’t deny you’ll look absolutely marvellous riding into battle on her favourite Trinket.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #vox machina x reader #vex x reader #vex'ahlia x reader #critical role #vox machina #vex’ahlia

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years ago

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John Lennon & Eating Disorders - an analysis

“Help me get my feet back on the ground…”

A really interesting topic to me is that John might have suffered from an eating disorder; as someone who does have an ED (or rather multiple ED’s) I feel like I could give a potentially insightful take on all this, so heres just my thoughts on the topic:

In my honest opinion, I don’t think (or perhaps rather, I don’t know) that John struggled with a full blown ED - as in, to the point that he would meet the criteria for a diagnosis. But I do think its pretty well evidenced that he at the very least struggled with having and maintaining a healthy relationship with food, as well as suffering from poor body image and insecurity regarding his weight. Perhaps that is enough to constitute an ED; I wouldn’t want to gate keep the diagnosis here - and its a thin line between disordered eating and an actual ED.

I wouldn’t be surprised if it was unequivocally confirmed that he did in fact struggle with bulimia, as has been suggested by some (X) because it would be fitting with the rest of his personality, which tended to be tumultuous and insecure. But at the same time, that assertion appears only to be a rumour. I think really that its too difficult to say for certain whether John did struggle with an ED, because ED’s are already difficult enough to spot as it is, even amongst your closest friends and family. Whilst there are certain behaviours and signs to look out for, its still a difficult thing to pinpoint really; anorexia can be relatively easy to spot, because the signs tend to be more apparent: skipping meals, noticeable weight loss etc. but if were going by what appears to be the most common belief - that John had bulimia - then I feel that that’s something especially difficult to spot. Bulimics tend to be of a regular weight, so there aren’t so many outward indications of the ED; and in addition to this, it’s relatively easy to hide bulimia, because many people with purging disorders might still eat 3 full meals throughout the day, therefore appearing to eat a balanced diet.

But we can also see some indications of ED behaviours throughout Johns lifetime - for instance, his weight did fluctuate to a degree that feels questionable, especially given that he has no reputation for having ever really exercised - and so it appears that this weight loss would have been due primarily to his food intake. These fluctuations occurred often within a concerningly short span of time - and whilst this could be drilled down to his LSD usage, it neglects the evidence we have that John was in fact concerned about his physical appearance and weight. And whilst in later years his heroin addiction did cause him to lose weight, thats only a relevant detail to Johns weight after 1968, when he started abusing the drug. Its been documented that he was insecure about his body image, seemingly starting around 1965-ish, when he wrote ‘Help!’. In a 1980 interview, he would later recall:

"When ‘Help!’ came out, I was actually crying out for help…I didn't realize it at the time…But later, I knew I was really crying out for help. So it was my fat Elvis period. You see in the movie: He — I — is very fat, very insecure, and he's completely lost himself. And I am singing about when I was so much younger and all the rest, looking back at how easy it was…It was my Fat Elvis period. I was eating and drinking like a pig. I was depressed and I was crying out for help. It's real. And I meant it."

The concerning thing about this quote is that John’s weight gain really wasn’t that significant [see photos below] I think he developed a problem with binging* after he got famous, but I don’t think he really recognised food as being an issue at this stage because he was probably just excited about indulging in all the privileges wealth and fame had brought him. Moderation probably just wasn’t something that had occurred to him at that stage; and arguably we can see evidence that he lacked impulse control even before the fame (eg. When Julia died, John binge drank for months). Its only after a reporter referred to him as “the fat Beatle” that he appeared to really become aware of any weight gain, and id think that this was maybe because he probably just found some comfort in food once he became famous. The excitement around wealth and fame was one thing, but also he’d been put into this position of immense pressure under the social eye, and his life had quite rapidly become both chaotic and refined.

(*He wasn’t just binge eating, but really overindulging in everything, whether that be food, sex, drinks, drugs etc.)

(A photographic comparison I found on Reddit of Johns weight loss within the span of about 3 months. Of course, the stark difference in appearance could be due mostly just to differences in angles and lighting etc. but in comparing photos of him from any position during this period of time, we can still see a shift.)

Another point to consider it that these are only the ED behaviours that he made apparent; they don’t account for the potential ED behaviours he might have concealed from both the public, and even his own intimates. But then again, thats only speculation - whilst I suspect that his eating habits might have looked more disordered on a day-by-day basis, I don’t know, and so I can’t prove anything.

And so I have to wonder what might have sparked an ED/disordered eating in John. The ubiquitous saying is that “its about control”, and whilst to a large degree ED’s are about control, from my own experience theres a lot more to the mentality than just that - and so I don’t want to just point to the beatlemania and public image as the sole source for the poor relationship with food. It must have been a huge influence on him, because being in the public eye that way would shift a person’s perception of their own body image. But I think he’d always been a deeply self-conscious and insecure person, and this probably just manifested into a loathing of his physical appearance (in fact, I think John had always been insecure about certain aspects of his physical appearance even prior to fame, such as his nose). I think the pressures of fame, as well as the shaming he received from certain journalists, clearly prompted him to develop a deep insecurity about his weight - but the foundations for an ED already appeared to ingrained in him from an early age.

It appears that from 1965 onwards, John would associate binge eating with a lack of control, and therefore a lack of self-worth. Allegedly Harry Nilsson is quoted as saying:

“John and I were having a heart-to-heart, then all of a sudden John went off about how powerful men had ravenous appetites and wanted to swallow the world whole. And he thought that was why he had this horrible problem – being hungry all the time and overeating…He said he often fantasised about large quantities of "forbidden" foods. He said food was "sacred" to him and it frightened him. He saw it as "a great weakness" and he referred to it as "a lack of discipline".”

Concerning Yoko’s denial of the ED allegations however, im not sure what to make of that. On the one hand, she probably had the closest insight into what John’s eating habits looked like on a regular basis, and so if she says she never saw any signs that John had an ED, then I think that is worth noting. It could also be that he just concealed the symptoms well, or (and this is more probable in my opinion) if he did have an ED, it probably was EDNOS, which could be difficult to spot.

Then again though, if Yoko were to admit to John having had an ED/disordered eating, that would damper her own reputation, because we know that she hugely influenced his eating habits and diets. But in addition to this, she might truly not have recognised Johns eating habits as being disordered - for instance, she told the The Mirror (x) “John did not have an eating disorder…sometimes he slipped and ate a bar of chocolate.” Perhaps im looking too much into that quote, but this whole mentality of “slipping up” after eating a bit of chocolate seems disordered to me. Eating foods like chocolate in moderation shouldn’t feel like a failure, and especially if theres no real need for you to be on a diet (of which was true for John because he was never overweight, and certainly not to a degree that would be detrimental to his health), it shouldn’t feel like “slipping up”.

So overall, what I make of the claim that John had an ED is this:

I don’t feel as though we have sufficient evidence to make the claim that “John suffered from bulimia”. Its been evidenced that he struggled with his body image, specifically regarding his weight - and the ways in which he both gained and lost this weight feels questionable to me, and are certainly worth examining - but I can’t see any hard evidence that he struggled with a purging disorder specifically.

If I was going to hazard a guess at the ED diagnosis that seemed the most fitting for John, id actually argue EDNOS (or Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified), because it feels as though Johns eating habits didn’t fit strictly within the confines of any other diagnosis, such as anorexia, bulimia or binge eating disorder. But id have to see what Johns diet looked like on a more regular basis to really confirm that diagnosis - so its really only my own speculation. But I just wanted to give my take on this discussion, because id just read a lot of people saying stuff like “John had bulimia”, and I wanted to really examine and analyse the truth to that claim. If you have any thoughts on this, feel free to add to the discussion - this was just my take.

#ed cw #john lennon ed #poor john :(#eating disorder #cw disordered eating #opinion #analysis #john lennon #johns psyche #beatles #yoko #yoko ono #john and yoko #best posts #proud #an anlysis

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

Happiness [Maxwell Lorenzano x f!Reader]

Author’s note: Please heed warnings before you read. This is angst. There’s a little fluff and a few spicy moments, but at its core, this is a pretty angsty read. It’s a different interpretation of Maxwell, post WW84. Reblogs are so appreciated. I worked really hard on this and it’s not showing up in tags so if you could reblog it... it would literally mean the world to me :( <3

Summary: After the dreamstone debacle, Maxwell Lord loses custody of his son, his home, his job and all his wealth. He has nothing, and what was once the simple task of ‘living’, is suddenly proving to be extremely difficult. Until a beacon of light enters his life. He can only hope that you don’t find out who he really is.

Word count: 4000+

Rating: 18+

Warnings: depression/suicidal thoughts, PSTD/trauma implications, poverty, starvation, binge eating, allusions to sex, male masturbation, food and drink mention.

Masterlist

Max is usually pretty good at keeping himself to himself, but when he hears the commotion from outside his small shanty apartment, he cautiously stalks towards the front door and leans into the wood, gazing out the peephole. He spots you, struggling to unlock the door located on the far side of the hall. Your arms are filled with brown paper bags and an abundance of cardboard boxes circle around your feet. He hears you curse as you drop one of the paper bags. It rips, and groceries spill onto the floor with a clatter. He swallows thickly, feeling his tummy grumble at the sight of fresh fruit and colourful veg. Max hadn’t eaten a single meal this week.

He spends a few more seconds watching you struggle, before the guilt swarms over him and he feels like a creep. He does wonder if he should leave his apartment and help you out though, but eventually he decides on turning his heel and walks back to the torn leather sofa. He just knows he’ll be some kind of intrusion on you. If Max has learned one thing, it’s that he needs to stay away from other people. Otherwise, he’d just hurt them. Even if hurting them was the last thing he intended to do.

Still, he finds himself marvelling over you. He wants to go over and introduce himself. He thinks you’re absolutely stunning. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen a woman (other than his ex-wife) in just short of a year, or maybe it’s something more genuine -- like the way you wear your hair or that glimmer in your eye. Once upon a time, Maxwell would’ve strolled on over to your apartment with the utmost confidence and charm, with the sole intention of winning you over and taking you back to his place. He wouldn’t dare do that now.

He stares at the wall clock, and watches as the minute leg ticks. It’s painfully slow. It’s 5:52pm, and Maxwell is just waiting until 6pm, because he knows at 6pm he can call his son, Alistair. If he tries calling a second earlier though, he is certain his ex-wife will throw a rage, claiming that he’s breaking court order. Maxwell had never been one to follow rules, but now, he didn’t have much of a choice. As he waits for the leg to strike 6, all he can really do is think about you. Truth be told, he hates that he’s thinking about you this much. He doesn't even know you.

But you’re so pretty. Your features are soft and delicate. Your clothes fit you perfectly and hug your body in all the right places. He can’t help but think what you sound like. He wonders if you’re from around here. He wonders why you moved into this particular neighbourhood, out of all the other neighbourhoods in rural D.C. He should go over and say hello at least. It would be the polite thing to do. He considers bringing over a bottle of wine to make a peace offering, but then he remembers all he has in his refrigerator is a stick of butter and a bottle of milk that has grown old and fermented. He assumes that you probably wouldn’t care for such housewarming gifts.

Maxwell calls Alistair as soon as the clock turns six. As always, Alistair is more than excited to speak to his dad, beaming brightly down the line. Alistair tells Maxwell about his step-father, and how he’d built a pool in their back garden for Ali and his mom. Max’s lips curl into a frown when he realises that his ex’s new husband is giving Alistair everything Max couldn’t. And once again, Maxwell feels like he has failed as a father.

For a short while, Alistair babbles about his day at school and how he got full marks on a pop quiz. Maxwell is as proud as punch. He has no doubt that success will one day find Alistair, he just hopes Alistair has an easier time handling it. Max can hear a faint yelling in the background of the phone call and eventually Alistair is interrupted.

“Oh-- mommy is calling me to eat dinner.” Alistair says softly, his voice suddenly growing oddly timid. Max’s stomach grumbles again at the mention of dinner.

“But we still have ten minutes left of our phone call.” Max replies matter-of-factly. He hopes Alistair can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. This isn’t his fault. He hears his ex yell again and Max can’t help but feel his face harden with disdain.

“I know, I’m sorry daddy, but I have to go.” The croak in Alistair’s voice is enough to break Maxwell’s heart. He wishes this could’ve been different. It should’ve been different.

Max knows he can’t argue though. It’s only futile. So he accepts the fact that Alistair has to leave the phone call early -- at least he was getting something to eat. Maxwell remembers when he was Alistair’s age. His mom always struggled to put food on the table because his dad would spend all the money on drinks at the local bar. Maxwell is just grateful his son isn’t starving.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Maxwell reassures before taking a shaky exhale. “I love y--”

But then, the line went dead. Max assumes that Alistair’s mom has ripped the phone from his hand and hung up. Sighing, Maxwell forces himself to stand up and walk on over to his bedroom. The bed is unmade and there are several piles of dirty laundry all over the floor. He jams open the sticky window and climbs onto the balcony, inhaling the cool evening air and lighting a cigarette. Smoking was a habit he’d gotten himself into when he was much younger, but he’d grown out of it when he’d hit limelight. Now though, it was growing back in to be a shameful addiction that he just couldn’t shake. It helped him stop feeling hunger, though.

As he flicks the orange lit ash over the edge of the balcony, his eyes catch on you again. You are standing on the street, talking to some guy. You’re laughing, and it looks like this mystery man’s hand is caressing your arm. It’s probably your boyfriend; Maxwell assumes, and the pang of jealousy in his chest turns into unadulterated sadness as he realises he was probably never going to find love again. He peers over the edge of the balcony once more as he takes a final drag of the cigarette, and he wonders if the jump would kill him.

Maxwell’s eyes begin to sting, and he climbs back into his bedroom, knocking his head on the window pane in the process.

He can’t sleep that night, and he tosses and turns in his three quarter sized bed. He could feel every spring in his mattress. What he would give to just sleep one more night in the soft, plush king sized bed he used to take for granted. He switched on his amber tinged bedside lamp and swatted away a moth that flew towards it. Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wondered if the damp had gotten worse. Even if it had, it wasn’t like Max had the courage to bring it up with the landlord.

He finds himself thinking about you again. He lived to see the way you smiled when you spoke to that guy, or the way your hair blew ever so slightly in the evening breeze. Max wraps his hand around his semi-hard cock and begins to jerk himself off. To nobody’s surprise though, he doesn’t finish -- the overwhelming feeling of revolt consuming him. He thinks he’s disgusting, and that nobody would ever want to touch him. He can’t even stand touching himself.

He falls asleep not long after that.

Max once had a pretty decent sleep schedule, going to bed at 10 and waking up at 6. But now he was up until the early hours of the morning, overthinking and hating himself. He wakes up three or four times a night from the same recurring nightmare. It’s a replay from the clear night of July ‘84, when he took over everyone’s TV screens. His doctor prescribed him therapy for it, which would probably help, but Maxwell just can’t afford it.

He wakes up to the sound of a bang on his front door. Max scrambles to his feet in a panic, checking the time on his alarm clock. It’s 2pm. And the person at the door could easily be his landlord, finally having enough and kicking him out. Max’s rent is two months overdue.

But it’s not his unforgiving landlord. It’s you. And you’re holding a fruit basket.

“Hey neighbour!” you smile pleasantly before introducing yourself to him. “I just moved in across the hall. I wasn’t sure what you’d like… but I figured everyone likes fruit!”

Maxwell stays quiet, standing there in complete disbelief. No one has shown him this amount of kindness in so long…

The prolonged silence makes you feel a little strange. He still hasn’t accepted the fruit basket, nor had he said anything. He was just… staring at you. It wasn’t a slimy gawk. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what his dark eyes were trying to tell you.

“—I’m sorry,” you continue eventually when he doesn’t speak, dropping the fruit basket by your side and turning away. “I uh— would you like me to get you something else?”

Maxwell’s eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head. “No!” he exclaims, opening his front door wider and taking the fruit basket from you. “I’m sorry,” he apologises. “I uh— I love fruit.”

You smile at his fluster, and you swear you notice a rosy pink blush cross his cheeks. It’s adorable.

“Oh okay, that’s good then.”

Maxwell prays you can’t hear his stomach grumble at the sight of the fresh fruit. He’s so excited to eat it all. “How can I repay you?”

You raise your eyebrows at his proposition and chuckle awkwardly. “Repay me? No no,” you laugh. “It’s just a fruit basket,”

It wasn’t just a fruit basket though. It was the only food Max had.

“I mean, you could tell me your name.”

Maxwell curses, realising he hasn’t even introduced himself. Gods— he wonders when exactly he’d lost his charm.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’m Max.” He extends his arm and offers you a handshake. You giggle, but accept.

He feels a bolt of electricity run up his arm when your fingers interlink with his, and he wonders if you can feel it too.

“Very formal Max,” you acknowledge with a smile.

Maxwell genuinely hasn’t communicated with anyone since July 1984. It’s probably about time he ditches the businessman persona, although he doesn’t realise he still uses it from time to time. Old habits die hard.

“I must say, I feel like I recognise you from somewhere.”

“No. You don’t.” Maxwell quickly snaps back and you’re afraid you struck a nerve.

There’s a longer silence and you find yourself wondering about your neighbour. He’s right in front of you and yet you can’t help but feel as though he’s some kind of enigma. Maybe it’s the crinkles in the corner of his eyes or his wry smile.

“Um…” you mumble, your gaze trailing behind him as you try and peer into his apartment. You can’t see much though. From where you stand it looks very empty… and brown. “If you weren’t busy tonight maybe you could come over and we could get to know each other. I uh-- don’t have many friends yet.” you explain shyly, nervously biting your lip.

You didn’t usually get nervous talking to new people, but there was just something about Maxwell that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His presence made butterflies flutter in your tummy and your hands feel clammy with excitement… or maybe anticipation. He stares at you blankly before clearing his throat.

“I uh-- yeah I mean-- maybe,” Maxwell shrugs cooly. “If I’m not busy.”

Pft, busy. Max hasn’t been busy since the dreamstone debacle.

“Of course,” you nod your head and smile. “Well, you’re welcome to come on over anytime.”

And then, without thinking, Maxwell replies. “And you’re welcome to come over here anytime too.”

You feel your smile grow into a grin and you reach out, placing your hand on Max’s arm. “Okay, well, it was nice meeting you.” you bite your lip.

Max’s heart stops when you touch him, and for the first time, he doesn’t flinch away. You’re holding his bicep and… he likes it. It’s not sending him into a spur of anxiety, in fact, he feels better just for finally plucking the courage to talk to you. And now you’re touching him. You’re not repulsed or disgusted… in fact, you’re smiling. You look happy, and maybe Max is happy too. Maybe. Max doesn’t even realise the small smile that’s crept upon his lips.

“Nice meeting you too.” He swallows and you wave goodbye.

He watches you walk back into your apartment, drinking in your appearance. You were wearing jeans and a sweatshirt today. It was casual… but he liked it.

Even when he finally gets back into his apartment and slumps against his front door, he’s still smiling. This feeling is so unfamiliar.

Maxwell finds himself pondering whether or not he should visit you tonight. He so desperately wanted to see you again-- see your pretty face and sparkling eyes and that perfect smile. Maybe Max could have a friend. That would be nice.

But he quickly gets scared again. He knows immediately that you’re too good for him, and that he’ll only end up hurting you. And then he’ll be left alone again. Max doesn’t know if he can survive another heartbreak.

Once again, he lights a cigarette and sits on the balcony, and wonders if the jump will kill him.

Then he realises he suddenly doesn’t want to die. At least, not yet. He wants to see you again first.

Max doesn’t even bother finishing the cigarette. He taps away the ash and climbs back inside, stripping himself of his clothes and turning on the shower. If he was going to see you tonight, he’d at least make the effort.

The soap he uses is from Dollar Tree, and it doesn’t really have a scent. It made a change from his favourite Jo Malone pomegranate fragranced soap, that’s for sure. He gets annoyed trying to squirt out the very little remenints of his shampoo bottle. Although he doesn’t have much, he’s satisfied when he comes out of the shower. He feels clean and fresh.

Maxwell rakes through his tiny collapsing wardrobe, trying to find an outfit that will make him appear somewhat presentable. He’s probably overthinking this whole thing -- after all, it isn’t exactly a date. But he still feels the strong inclination to impress you. He so desperately wants to be liked by you.

Most of his everyday wear is stained or ripped or very aged. But then he spots the small duffel bag at the bottom of his closet and he remembers he packed some of his old business wear when he moved out of his manor and into this apartment. He hadn’t looked in the duffel bag once since moving though, afraid that seeing the clothes would unleash some kind of trauma on him.

Max crosses his legs and hesitantly unzips the black bag. Inside, he finds a few fitted shirts, a few tailored pants, and one suit jacket. He even spots a belt and two patterned ties. He’s a little upset though when he can’t find the suspenders he used to wear. They were always his favourite part of his outfit.

Maxwell can’t bring himself to dress in the whole get up, but he does pick out a white button down shirt and grey pants. He tucks the shirt in, and wraps the belt through the loops in his pants, clicking it into place. Opting to look slightly more casual, Max leaves the first two buttons of his shirt undone and rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.

And for the first time in a long time, Max likes the way he looks. He wishes he had some cologne to spray, and he could definitely do with a haircut, but this is good enough.

He doesn’t want to seem desperate, so he does wait (albeit impatiently) until 8:30pm to see you. In the meantime, he eats over half of the fruit basket. He tells himself he’ll stop after an apple and an orange, but strangely enough. He can’t. He can’t stop. It just tastes so good and he’s so hungry -- so he eats until he feels sick. He wants to lie down because he really doesn’t feel too good at all, but he’s not going to pass up this opportunity to see you for anything. He feels a little cold, so he throws on his suit jacket which is grey in colour and matches the tailored pants. Max chokes down a glass of water, straightens up his posture, and knocks on your door.

He’s not waiting for long, and he’s delighted when he sees you answer the door. Your lips are painted a ruby red colour and you’re wearing your hair differently. Not only that, but you’d changed out of your sweater and jeans, and now you’re doting a knee length flowy dress. Your feet are slipped into some fuzzy looking slippers though, and Max admires the small diamond stud earrings that you don. They really bring out the colour of your eyes.

“I was hoping you’d come.” you reveal nervously, opening the door wider and looking your neighbour up and down. He looks so incredibly handsome in his change of outfit. Max feels himself blush under your gaze and he smiles.

“I just couldn’t pass this up.” he laughs nervously.

You move out the way and gesture for him to enter your apartment. Max notes that it’s roughly the same size as his, but it’s already filled with more furniture. Judging from the plentiful cardboard boxes in every corner, you hadn’t finished unpacking either. You find yourself watching Max as he takes in your front room. You take his jacket and hang it on your coat peg which stands by your front door. You definitely do recognise him from somewhere, especially seeing him in that shirt and those pants…

You shrug off your curiosity temporarily though, and take his hand, pulling him into your kitchen. Max loves the way your hand fits so perfectly into his. He doesn’t want you to pull away. And you don’t, until you reach the refrigerator.

“I have cranberry juice, tea, coffee-- no milk though, uh…” you trail off and check the cupboards. You beam when you see the bottle of champagne that your friend had gifted you. It was to celebrate moving out. You present him with it and grin. “Would you care to have a glass with me?”

Max remembers the distinct taste of the bubbles on his lips and he nods in agreement. You don’t have any fancy glasses, let alone flutes, so you pour the pale yellow liquid into two plastic tumblers. You hand one to Max and cradle your own in both of your hands.

“You should propose a toast.” you laugh jokingly.

Luckily, Maxwell has always been able to handle being put on the spot. He only takes a few seconds to come up with something.

“To new friends.” he announces with a charming smile, and clinks his cup against yours.

Max hasn’t had a drink in a long time, so it doesn’t take long for it to reside in his system and he begins to feel a bit tipsy. It’s not bad though. Maxwell is relaxed, and he’s comfortable. You bounce off each other and make each other laugh right up until the early hours of the morning. You bring out Monopoly and you’re surprised at how good he is at it. He gives you advice on buying properties and investments and it truly sounds like he knows what he’s talking about. You wonder what he does for a living.

“I didn’t say this earlier,” Max says as you pour out the last of the champagne. The alcohol has him buzzing with confidence. “But you look breathtaking, really. That dress and those earrings and your lips…”

And you don’t know what it is, but Max just makes you feel so good. “My lips?” you repeat breathlessly, gazing into his honeyed brown eyes.

Max nods wordlessly when you climb into his lap and straddle his hips. You place the palms of your hands flat against his chest and nudge your nose against his, giggling playfully. Max feels scared -- he’d never been this close to anyone in so long, let alone a beautiful woman like yourself.

Gods, he’s so handsome too. A small piece of his hair has fallen out of place and it crosses his forehead. You’re quick to brush it out of his face with your finger, and one of your hands cup his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the warmth of your touch, humming in contentment. When he opens his eyes again, they’re noticeably shades darker.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice low like it had dropped a few octaves.

You nod desperately and your lips crash against his.

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the adrenaline but he’s an amazing kisser -- perhaps the best you’ve ever had. You roll your hips over his lap and he moans, but doesn’t break the kiss once. His large hands roam around your back and squeeze at the soft flesh of your thighs. The Monopoly game has been long discarded now, leaving only you and Max revelling in each other’s touch.

You want more. You want him. You dip your hand in between your bodies and find his belt, trying your best to undo the buckle so you can get him out of his pants. You’re certain you can feel his erection pressing against the inside of your thigh, and you’d be right in thinking he wants this too.

But what he wants the most, is to not ruin things between you both, and Max feels like that maybe this is all happening a bit too fast. He doesn’t want to reject you, and he’s afraid of hurting you, but he’s also afraid of you getting so close to him -- that you find out who he truly is, and the things he does. He doesn’t want to lose you because you make him feel so happy. For the first time in potentially years, Maxwell feels genuine happiness. He doesn’t want to fuck up, not when he’s been doing so well.

So he pulls away from you breathlessly and moves your hands away from him. He holds them though, brushing his thumbs in comforting circles against your soft skin.

“I really like you,” he smiles. “And tonight has been… great. You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed myself. But I-- I really want to see you again. And do this again. And have a good time with you. I just don’t think we should-- you know--” Maxwell tries to explain. He feels bad for rejecting you. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Because trust me,” he sighs, closing his brown eyes. “I really really do. But--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you smile, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I understand, and honestly, I think you’re probably right. I’ve had a good time too though.”

Maxwell can’t help but beam knowing that there’s no hard feelings between you both.

“So we can do this again?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes.” you reply, pressing a chaste yet sweet kiss to his lips.

You wiggle off his lap and Maxwell stands up. “I should head back home then,” he says. “It’s late. But maybe we can do something tomorrow?”

“I’d like that a lot.” you agree.

Max gives you one final kiss and part of you wants to ask him if he’d be willing to stay the night. You shake away the temptation and tell yourself there’d be plenty more opportunities for him to stay over. Before he leaves, you see him abruptly spin around on his heel and point his index finger towards you.

And your heart drops.

You freeze.

You think you can feel your blood run cold and the colour drain out of your face.

Because in that moment, when he points his finger at you, you recognise him.

You remember him.

You know who he is.

“I almost forgot my jacket.” Max laughs, sliding past you.

You feel like you can’t move though.

This was the man who single handedly almost destroyed the entire planet.

But how -- how could it be Maxwell Lord? He was so sweet and kind and funny. How could the man you just made out with, the man you shared a bottle of champagne with -- your own neighbour…

How could it be Maxwell Lord?

How hadn’t you noticed sooner. Hell, his name was literally Max Lorenzano.

“Goodnight.” Max tells you.

You try and force yourself to say it back but no words come out. Your throat feels dry and you’re panicking.

Max doesn’t even notice though. He’s too busy beaming with happiness when he leaves.

You aren’t sure if you’re going to see him again.

When Maxwell gets back home, he can’t rid himself of the grin that’s plastered across his lips. He sits out on the balcony and lights a cigarette, but this time, when he looks at the ground beneath you, he doesn’t wonder if the jump will kill him.

His eyebrows furrow together when he notices the florist across the road, and he wonders how much a bouquet of flowers will cost him. He wants to get you something; as a thank you for giving him a good time.

He simply can’t wait to see you again.

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 4 years ago

Note

Okay so I’ve just binged through all your Sam&Bucky series and I love them all!

So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire

{{{ I cannot even begin to tell you how excited i was when i got this prompt!!! like this is.... some of my favorite stuff to write!!! sorry it took me a little bit but i had other idea intruding on my brain and then inspiration struck me this morning at work and i came home and started this immediately! thank you so much! i hope you enjoy it!!!!! AND THANK YOU FOR READING MY SERIES YOU ARE SO SWEEEEETTTT!!!!!! }}}

Ao3

Word Count: 4,989

Static in the Dark

His phone buzzing on his nightstand wakes him. Sam reaches out blindly in the dark, knocking over a water bottle and groaning to himself, he pats around, making a small noise when his fingers connect with the vibrating phone. He turns it in his hand, finger pressing down and lighting up the screen, his eyes are blurry but he can read the name clear enough, BUCKY. Sam smiles at the grumpy picture of Bucky he’d set as his contact picture and then his eyes fall on the time in the corner of the screen.

1:27am.

Sam’s heart pounds in his ears. Bucky doesn’t call in the middle of the night. Not even when he should. When he has nightmares. He always waits until morning to call Sam. Or he brings him breakfast and they eat on the boat, sometimes talking about it, sometimes not. But he never calls when he knows Sam is sleeping. Never. Sam slides his finger over the screen and lifts it to his ear swiftly, his hands shaking.

“Buck? You okay?” it’s natural, he asks on instinct. The line crackles and he hears bits and pieces of Bucky’s words.

“Sam get-“

“They coming for you and-“

“Don’t – who they are but-“

“I’m stuck- be there –“

“can’t get loose. Sam, get Sarah and the boys-“

“Run.”

The line goes dead. Sam’s breathing is heavy. He tries to call Bucky back, he doesn’t answer. Sam jumps out of bed, grabs a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, pulling them on as he runs out the door to his truck. He didn’t know what was happening, or where Bucky was, or if he was safe. But he’d said to get Sarah and the boys, and he’d said to run, his voice sounding strained between the crackling on the phone. He’d never lied to Sam before, and he’d do anything to keep Sam’s family safe. So Sam starts his truck, backs into the yard to turn it around, and puts his foot down, grass flying from beneath his tires as he goes.

Sarah wakes to Sam’s hands shaking her shoulders. He’s trying to whisper her name but his voice is loud to her sleep heavy ears.

“What? What’s happening?” she mumbles, letting him pull her out of bed, stumbling in the dark when he presses her shoes into her hands.

“We have to go. We have to get the boys and leave.” He says, his eyes intense in the dark. She can see him now, the fog of sleep evaporating at the mention of her boys.

“Why? Sam what’s going on?” she asks, pulling her shoes on and immediately heading down the hall to her boys’ room.

“I don’t know. Bucky called me. The line was full of static. He sounded-“ Sam cut off, looking at her in the dimly lit hall. She moved her hand to his arm, comforting.

“What?” she asked, giving his arm a squeeze, worried about what he might have heard, seeing the worry in her brothers’ eyes wasn’t helping.

“I don’t know he sounded, in pain maybe? Or like he was struggling? He said he was stuck. I don’t know Sarah, I don’t know.” He was shaking his head at her, her heart pounded in her chest, he looked lost. Like a ship out at sea that had lost its anchor. She moved her hand to his shoulder, and then to cup his cheek.

“Bucky’s strong. He’ll be okay. And he called to warn us, so he’s okay. He’ll be okay.” She nodded, looking him in the eye, making sure he was seeing her. Hearing her. He nodded back, swallowed hard. Sarah watched him push his worry away, and they both went into the boy’s room and woke them. There was a chorus of questions from the boys, both of them growing more frantic as neither she, nor Sam, gave them any answers. She shoved jackets on them both and then her and Sam each grabbed an out stretched hand and ran out the door.

They were half way to his truck when Sam stopped them, his arm reaching out, holding them back as he looked around. Sarah knew that look, he’d heard something, or felt something. His instincts had always been wound so tightly. He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes, listening, and then.

“MOVE!” he shouted, grabbed Sarah’s hand and pushing them all back, nearly tackling them out of the way. Sarah hears what are unmistakably gunshots, and then sees sparks on the ground as the bullets hit where they’d just been standing. She grabs the boys, both of them screaming, as Sam herds them to the side of one of the buildings. He kneels in front her as she holds the boys close.

“I need you stay here. Get to the truck when I give you the signal.” Sam says, he’s holding her head in his hands and her only thought is that his hands are so cold, he must be freezing, he’s not even wearing a jacket.

“What’s the signal?” she asks, breathless, her heart is pounding, her grip on the boys will no doubt leave bruises on their skin.

“When I tell you to run.” He looks at her, brows rising, making sure she’s with him. She nods for him to continue.

“You run.” He says,

“You get to the truck. And you get out of here. You hear me. You go.” He leans forward, kissing her forehead roughly, a long press of lips. He looks at the boys.

“You stay with your mom. Do not let go of her. Right?” he asks, they both nod frantically in unison, and Sarah can feel them shaking where they’re pressing against her.

“Good boys.” He kisses them too, hands curled around the backs of their heads briefly as he pulls them all close. And then he’s gone. And the night comes alive with sound.

Time seems to slow and speed up all at once. There’s more gun fire. And sounds of things Sarah has never heard before. All of them loud, making Sarah’s ears ring, she holds her boys close, pressing their heads up under her arms, trying to keep them from the noises, knowing it won’t help. The sounds move away, not far, but they aren’t right on top of them anymore. And then she hears Sam yell. The signal.

She grabs the boys and yanks them forward, all of them stumbling as they run through the dark to Sam’s truck. They make it to the door and she fumbles with the keys, trying to find the right button in her panic. She drops the keys and then hears footsteps, running, coming toward her, toward her boys. She turns, grabbing the boys and tossing herself, and them, to the side, just as a body slams into the door of Sam’s truck. She looks up at the man, dressed in black, his face covered. She and the boys scramble back across the ground, her hand hitting something hard as she crawled backward. Her fingers wrap around it and pull it forward, a crowbar, the metal is cold in her hand as she stands, a shield between this man and her children. The man laughs at her, she raises the bar over her head, ready to fight, to the death if she has to. He will not touch her boys.

He never gets the chance.

He’s slammed sideways, into the truck, the dent he’d already put there widening and spreading along the side of the truck. The body that had slammed into him, coming out of the dark silently, but fast, faster than should have been possible. Sarah feels relief flood through her as she sees a small glint of light. The man who had been threatening her slides sickeningly to the ground, not moving. The body that had slammed into his stands up, grunting a little before looking at her.

“Bucky.” She breathes, that relief almost buckling her knees as her boys dash forward and grab at her. Bucky is at her side in seconds.

“Hey. You okay? You all alright?” his hands are on her face, they’re cold like Sam’s, they move from her to the boys, checking them all for injury.

“We’re fine. We’re okay.” He nods and then stops, his eyes moving over her and the boys and the empty space behind them.

“Where’s Sam?” his voice is tight. Sarah feels a pang in her chest. The look in his eyes. She can’t place it. But it’s familiar.

“He ran that way.” She looks over his shoulder.

“To give us time.” She says, and it sounds like an apology, but if Bucky hears the plea in her voice he doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“Alright I got him. You stay here. And hold onto that.” He eyes the crowbar and gives her a little smile, always so cheeky. She smiles at him, nods, and watches him run off to find her brother, a glint of hellfire in his eyes.

She grabs the boys and shoves them into the bed of Sam’s truck, climbing in after them and standing over them, looking over the top of the truck, looking for her brother. She sees a shadow run toward Bucky, it crashes into him and sends him flying through one of the large store front windows nearby. She hears the glass shatter and grimaces. But he jumps back through the window and tackles the man that had hit him, a yell going through the air as he collides with him. She watched him raise his fist, and bring it down, twice. The man stops moving and doesn’t get up. Bucky stumbles away from the body on the ground and walks toward the gun fire she can see, muzzle flashes burning images onto her eyes in the dark.

The gunfire moves from Sam, to Bucky. He holds his hand up in front of him, blocking bullets with his hand and then curling his arm as he moves closer. The way he moves sending a shiver down Sarah’s spine. He’s so calculated, walking straight into gunfire, and taking the attention away from Sam. Making himself the only target they can see. Sarah watched Sam get up, and run to stand behind Bucky. She heard their voices, barely audible over the gunfire shattering the quiet night, but she can hear the tell tail teasing tones, and she smiles, looking down at her boys. They’re huddled against her legs, holding onto her thighs for dear life, little fingers digging into her skin.

She looks back up to see Bucky grab the gun that’s being fired at him. He breaks it in half and throws the pieces at the man who’d been shooting, they slam into his face and send him flying backwards. Bucky follows him, once again bring his fist down with terrifying precision until the man stops moving. Sarah gasps when another shadow moves and tackles her brother. Bucky turns quickly, his eyes on Sam immediately. He moves so fast Sarah barely sees him, tackling the man off of Sam with a feral growl that sounds like it rips its way out of him.

Sarah watched the two bodies roll away from Sam as he lay on the ground, not moving. They’re both on their feet in seconds, Bucky standing between the man and Sam.

“Touch him again and I’ll kill you.” Bucky’s voice carries on the wind from the bay, it’s deep, and threatening, and full of promise. Sarah’s heart is beating so hard in her chest she moves her hand up to her throat. The man laughs at Bucky, taking a step forward. He dodges quickly to the side, clearly trying to fake him out, Bucky catches him easily. He spins the man around, metal arm wrapping around his neck and pulling. The man goes limp in his arms. Sarah looks away, swearing she heard a sickening pop, but knowing it was probably just in her head. Probably.

The night is quiet again. The gunfire stopped. No more flashes of light. Sarah looks up and sees Bucky on his knees at her brothers’ side, his hands on Sam’s face until he sits upright abruptly. Bucky nearly tumbles backwards, Sam grabs his arm, and she hears them both laughing. Her heart warming as she watches them smile in the dark. Bucky pulls Sam to his feet with a grunt, as sirens and flashing lights fill the air behind her. She turns to see police and what look like black FBI vehicles, the ones you always see on tv. They pull in quickly and round up the men littered on the ground. Sam and Bucky walk over slowly. Sarah hops down out of the truck, helping the boys down after her.

Sam’s lip is split, and his eye brow is bleeding. His knuckles are bleeding and bruised too when he reaches for her hand. She grabs it quickly and squeezes. He pulls her close and kisses her temple, the boys rushing to his side and squeezing them both.

“You alright?” Sam breathes into her hair. Sarah nods.

“You?” she asks, pulling back and looking at him. He smiles, looking tired, and nods. She looks over to Bucky, his eye is swelling, a purple glint to the skin there, and there’s a large gash across his nose, and a few smaller cuts on his forehead.

“How bout you tough guy?” She asks, teasing. He laughs, a quick breath through his nose.

“I’m good.” He nods.

“Better then that window you broke.” Sam mumbles, slapping his hand into Bucky’s arm gently.

“The window I broke? He threw me into it, I didn’t exactly have a choice.” Bucky retorted, glaring at Sam.

“Uh huh sure, a likely story.” Sam shook his head.

“I’ll fix it.” Bucky said, his voice quiet. Sam looked at him for a moment, his face soft.

“I’m just kiddin man. It’s fine. You’re okay though?” he asked, clapping a hand to his shoulder.

“Yeah I’m good. I’m-“

“Bucky…?”

They all looked down at the same time, to see AJ pointing at Bucky’s side with a shaking finger, tears in his eyes. Sarah watched Bucky frown at him. Watched him lift his arm to look at his own side. And gasped when she saw the jagged piece of glass lodged in his side. The glass was thin but the line in Bucky’s side was almost three inches across. Sarah moved her hand to her mouth as Sam turned Bucky toward him, she could see the blood on his skin now. Her eyes moved down and saw a small pool of blood growing around his foot. She watched Bucky blink slowly, as he looked up at Sam, brow furrowed.

“Oh look… I’ve been impaled.” He mumbled, his voice trailing off as he swayed sideways, a small smile on his lips. Sam caught him as his knees buckled, yelling for a medic as he held Bucky to his chest.

“I knew shouldn’t have let you watch that stupid fucking movie.” Sam whispers, his voice sounding tight, his free hand hovering over Bucky’s side, wanting to stop the bleeding but not able to without pushing the glass in further.

Sarah watched them load him into the ambulance. Tears in her eyes as she held onto the boys. Sam looked at her, a question in his eyes.

“You go with him. We’ll meet you there.” She said, nodding to him and watching him climb into the ambulance quickly. The boys were running to the car before she even turned to tell them. She ran back into the house, grabbed her own keys, and followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Sam’s leg hadn’t stopped bouncing since Sarah sat down next to him in the waiting room. Sam had watched as the boys had sat and slowly fallen asleep next to their mother, both of them holding hands. He smiled when Sarah reached out, putting her hand on his knee.

“They said he’d be fine. He’s already out of surgery. He’s just gotta wake up a bit and we can go see him.” She reassured him. Sam nodded, taking a deep breath, and trying to relax a little in his chair. They still had no idea who the men that attacked them were. As far as Sam had heard, they’d shown up at Bucky’s apartment, snuck in in the dark and attacked him. Lucky for him, and Sam and his family, Bucky was very light sleeper, if he was sleeping at all. They’d managed to trap him with something. But not for long. Sam had never been so glad that Bucky had all that freakish strength.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s voice swam through the fog in his head, he looked at her, her eyes were on him, studying him.

“Yeah. What?” he asked. She looked at him for a moment, thinking, he waited.

“Is he always so…” she trailed off, clearly not sure what word to use.

“Aggressive?” Sam supplied, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“I was gonna say protective.” Sarah said, giving him that knowing look that he always hated.

“Protective?” Sam asks, tilting his head.

“I mean yeah. He’s protective of the people he cares about. Who isn’t?” Sam said, closing his eyes and leaning back to rest his head against the wall.

“I meant protective… of you.”

Sam could hear the smirk, he groaned and did not look at her.

“He protected all of us Sarah. He cares about all, of us.” Sam sighed.

“No I know that. I know he cares about all of us. I know, he protected all of us. That’s not what I was talking about.” She slapped Sam’s leg, he grunted and looked at her finally.

“What then? What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice verging on annoyed now.

Sarah looked at him. Really looked at him. He almost rolled his eyes at her but then she spoke.

“He said, ‘touch him again, and I’ll kill you’.” She said, still giving him that look. Sam frowned.

“He said them, touch ‘them’ again.” Sam said, his fist clenching against his leg, knuckles throbbing under the bandage one of the nurses had wrapped around his hand. Sarah gave him a look that was close to pity. One he wasn’t used to, not from her.

“No Sam. He said ‘him’. And the look in his eyes. When I told him where you were and he saw you being shot at.” She trailed off, looked over at the boys sleeping crookedly in the hospital chairs, and then slowly looked back.

“I’ve never seen anyone so determined and pissed off all at once. I mean, you’re a stubborn asshole, and you get that look in your eyes sometimes Sam, but this.” She shook her head and took a deep breath, looking down the hall, and then back to Sam again.

“That man. I think he’d burn the world down to protect you. The fire in his eyes when he saw you were in danger.” She moved her thumb against his knee gently.

“I know he’s lost a lot of things in his life. And I know you… we, have given him a little something back. But that look, that was all for you. He’d die, before he let anything happen to you. And it goes beyond just you two being partners so don’t you give me that look Sam Wilson.” She poked him in the chest, and he moved his hand to the spot, pretending to rub away the pain, but really trying to see if she could have felt how hard his heart was beating under his ribs. She smiled at him, softly, she looked so much like their mother, and she had that same knowing look in her eyes.

“He loves you.” She said. Like it was simple. Like it was obvious. Sam swallowed hard around nothing, finding it hard to breathe.

“And?” he asked, knowing she could say it. That she would say it. Because he needed her too. She smiled at him, big and bright, her round cheeks moving up, pressing her eyes closed a bit. She moved her hand to his shoulder.

“And you love him.” She said, sounding giddy, her nose scrunching as she exaggerated her smile further. Sam took a deep breath, his hands shaking.

“I see the way you look at him. He looks at you the same way. I mean hell Sam, you look at each other, that way. You’re both just… I don’t know.” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Idiots?” Sam supplied. She laughed, dropping her head onto his shoulder before looking back up.

“Yeah. That’s probably accurate. Idiots in love.” She bit her lip and laughed again, singing that last word, teasing. Sam laughed too. His fast-beating heart calming in his chest at her words. She was right. She usually was, though Sam would never admit that out loud. He’d known it. For awhile now. Since Bucky helped them fix the boat, maybe before. He didn’t know exactly when. Things had been so… complicated, for such a long time. And then they’d been gone. And then they were back and the world was in a panic and there was no time… for anything. But he’d known, watching him so relaxed around Sarah and the boys, and all the people at the docks, he’d known. It had been pulsing under his ribs every time Bucky had smiled at him with that toothy grin.

He looked at his sister. She nodded, her smile fading a bit, but still hovering in her eyes.

“I love him.” Sam said, breathing it out like a prayer.

“I know.” Sarah said, giving him a short squeeze and then pulling back as the doctor walked into the waiting room.

“He’s awake. Still groggy. He may be in and out a bit. But you can come see him.” The man smiled at them, nodding at Sam when he nodded his thanks.

He and Sarah woke AJ and Cass and they all followed the doctor to Bucky’s room. He was watching the door when they walked up, and he smiled softly and lifted his hand in a small wave. AJ and Cass looked at their mom, she nodded at them and they rushed into the room, both of them pouncing carefully on Bucky, he groaned exaggeratedly but pulled them close. Smiling when they both jumped off the bed to reenact the way he’d come out of the dark to save them, slamming the villain into Sam’s truck so hard the truck nearly bent in half.

“You can stay as long you like. We’d like to keep a few days. If he’ll let us.” The doctor said, giving Sam a look, Sam laughed and nodded.

“You might get him over night.” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“That’s about what I expected. Have a good night Mr. Wilson.” He looked toward Sarah.

“Ms. Wilson.” He nodded and strode down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Sam and Sarah both looked into the room, watching the boys chat with Bucky, Cass was running his fingers gently over the scaring on Bucky’s shoulder when Bucky made a growling noise and grabbed at him, Cass shrieked and leapt backward. Bucky and AJ laughing, Cass joining them after his initial fright. Sam saw Bucky grimace, his fingers moving to his side, but he hid it well, forcing a smile as the boys kept laughing. Sarah nudged Sam, her elbow digging into his ribs.

“Ow.” Sam huffed, looking at her.

“He’s good with them.” She said, smiling. Sam smiled too, watching them some more.

“Yeah. Kids love him.” He said, shaking his head.

“They’re not the only ones.” She muttered, looking smug.

“I swear to god.” Sam sighed, looking at her. She smiled at him, wiggled her eyebrows, and then headed into the room herself. Sam hung back, letting her have a moment.

“Hey you.” She said, leaning close to Bucky, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Hey.” He smiled groggily up her, looking tired.

“How you feelin sunshine?” she asked, brushing her fingers over the cuts on his head.

“Yeah good. I’m good. Tired.” He nodded, his eyes drooping.

“Yeah. We’ll let you sleep. I’m gonna take these boys home, see if I can get them to sleep. But we’ll see you soon.” She pressed her hand firmly into his shoulder, eliciting another tired smile.

“And Bucky?” she pressed on his shoulder again, his eyes fluttered open, he looked up her with wide eyes.

“Thank you. For helping us. For saving us. Saving them.” She looked over at AJ and Cass, both of them standing at the end of his bed, looking tired but happy. Bucky smiled at them and then looked back to Sarah.

“It was my pleasure.” He moved his hand up, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze, his eyes shining. She smiled brighter, gave him a wink, and then herded the boys out the door. They both gave Sam hugs as they passed him, Sarah did as well.

“Good luck.” She whispered as she pulled away, patting his cheek, her hands going to the boys’ shoulders as she turned to walk down the hall. Sam smiled at her, watching her walk away and rolling his eyes when she winked at him. He turned back to Bucky’s room, his eyes were closed, his head resting on his pillow. Sam smiled to himself, a small thing, soft and barely there, and walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

He sleeps for a few hours, Sam sits by his side, watching old cartoons on tv, the volume turned down. It doesn’t matter what they’re saying, he’s not paying attention. He watched Bucky sleep off an on, watching his chest rise and fall, the pale skin there littered with small scratches and cuts from the glass he’d been tossed through. His fingers itched to reach out and touch, he fisted his hands, and then ran his palms over his thighs, moving his eyes back to the television.

He hears Bucky stir about an hour later, Sam holds the smile back, watching Bucky nuzzle into the pillow beneath his head before his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times, eyes settling on Sam eventually. The corner of his mouth twitches, and Sam gives him a little wave.

“I killed your truck. I’m sorry.” Bucky groans, his hand moving over the bandage on his side.

“It’s just a dent Buck, a big dent, but it’s fixable.” Sam said, his hand moving to the inside of his thigh, curling into the meat of his leg, keeping his hand occupied. Bucky moved his head slowly, disagreeing the best he could.

“Nuh uh, I felt it Sam. That trucks broken.” His words were a little slurred from sleep, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. He was always so goddamn argumentative.

“Well, better the truck, than Sarah and the boys.” Sam said, serious now. The small smile on Bucky’s lips faded as he looked at Sam.

“I tried to call you. I couldn’t get out. They had me chained to the pipes in my bathroom and I-“

“Bucky.” Sam cut him off, Bucky’s eyes were shining again, Sam could see his chin trembling.

“If you hadn’t called. They’d be gone. I’d probably be gone too. You saved us Buck. You did. We’re okay.” Sam reached out then, his hand moving over Bucky’s arm, pulling it away from where he’d wrapped it around himself. Bucky watched Sam’s hand move down his arm. Watched Sam press his fingers between Bucky’s, threading them together, and leaving them there. Sam heard the quick intake of breath before he looked back up. A tear had fall down Bucky’s cheek.

“We’re all okay.” Sam raised their joined hands and pressed his lips to the back of Bucky’s hand.

“We’re okay.” He breathed, pressing his lips to Bucky’s pale skin over and over. He watched Bucky relax into the bed again, his eyes moving to the ceiling as he let out a shaky breath, another tear falling as Sam watched him trying to control his emotions.

“You saved me.” Sam said, reaching out with his free hand and wiping the tears away from Bucky’s face gently. Bucky leaned into the touch, his lip trembling again as his eyes fell back to Sam. Sam brushed his thumb over Bucky’s cheek, moving his hand down, fingers pressing into his neck as his thumb bushed across Bucky’s lip, stilling the tremble.

“I guess that makes us even.” Bucky said, smiling that toothy grin that Sam had become so fond of, pressing his head further into Sam’s touch as another tear fell. Sam brushed it away, knuckles moving over Bucky’s skin slowly. Bucky moved his metal hand, grabbing at Sam’s hand, pressing their fingers together as he moved Sam’s hand down ever so slightly. He turned Sam’s hand slowly, watching Sam for any sign that he should stop, and received none. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Sam’s palm, kissing him sweetly. Sam felt his heart flutter in his chest, Bucky’s lips were soft, and warm, and his. Bucky tangled his metal fingers with Sam’s and lowered their hands to his chest, his head falling back onto his pillow. He smiled softly at Sam, his eyes fluttering from exhaustion again, he snapped them open, his body jerking slightly as he forced himself awake.

“Go to sleep Buck. I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam said, moving his thumb in slow circles over Bucky’s hand. Bucky’s eyes were closed before Sam finished speaking, his breathing slowing as he fell into sleep, the smile on his lips fading as he drifted deeper.

Sam watched him sleep, for hours, keeping watch. The television in the corner completely forgotten.

#abc-easy-as-123 #sambucky #sambucky fic #ficlet #sambucky ficlet #winter falcon #winter falcon fic #winter falcon ficlet #my writing #request #requests #asks

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horanghoe · 4 years ago

Text

warm milk & honey - SKZ fic

A/N: I just realised I forgot Han ^ I am screaming

Pairing: OT7/reader

Rating: PG friendly (with a friendly warning of poly / multiple person relationship).

Genre: POLY!SKZ / Fluff / Very slight angst & mentions of bad sleep patterns.

Word Count: 3.6k exactly, my doods

Summary: A restless night, ultimately remedied by your sweet baby man angel boys. Or alternatively: Istg if Jisung makes one more weird noise imma end this man’s whole life no cap, Binnie hold me back -

Back to ~ SKZ Masterlist

Back to ~ Main Masterlist

Special Mentions <3

@domjaehyun for being a yoghurt eating legend that takes a year to respond ASKDJF ILY BICH//

@seowoos for inspiring this whole damn thing & helping me feel more comfortable w publishing more niche content models. Even if it’s just cheesy enough for the two of us <3 //

@chocolvte for being another OG on this list, n just generally being a sweet bean <3 baby girl ur reactions were the second inspiration to get me INTO SKZ in the first place. ily uwu //

and lastly, surprise @mikoto-ica-fics !! You were the last part of the equation that got me to write smin for these boys. I binged practically all your fics in two nights bby, keep making michellin star fics <3

Tonight wasn’t working out quite as you had expected.

To be honest, it was fucking shit.

Well, the night itself was okay. In terms of activities. An evening in with your boyfriend, Chan.

Just you two versus the world. The poor boy was so tired that honestly, it had only consisted of a walk through the park to grab snacks, and returning to the empty dorm to laze around the whole evening. A Netflix date with some *ahem* late night fun to settle you both into a deep, restful state.

It was brilliant, fantastic. Until it wasn’t.

Until you lay painfully awake in his bed and suffocated in the dark silence and space between you. It wasn’t Chan’s fault; the obnoxious whirring of electronics made your head spin, tiny flashing lights and minute feelings of unease at the cupboard door leaning open; all made it virtually impossible to sleep.

It was too cold. Too hot. You were so comfortable, melted into the mattress. But it was swallowing you and your claustrophobia was starting to make you twitch. Moving off of your angelic boy’s limbs, you shimmied to the cooler side of the bed.

He stirred a little, before settling on turning away, onto his side. Phew. At least you hadn’t woken him. It wasn’t like you were trying to be selfish, but fuck. This was insufferable.

Every time you looked at the clock you were sure it slowed down - balls, at this point it could’ve skipped back an hour and you wouldn’t have batted an eye. Mostly because if they weren’t checking the clock, they were staring dead straight up at the ceiling.

Eh. Ugh. Fuck. I can’t sleep.

That’s all your brain could think. Stuck - monotone and on a never-ending loop.

It seemed like everything you had ever thought was swimming around in your brain like some kind of primordial juice. Feelings and emotions swelling and bloating in your belly until they settled.

And then a car passed outside, and everything started to swell up again.

Chan was on his side, turned away and peacefully gaining some shut-eye. He was only lightly sleeping though, that much you could tell. His body gently lifting, then falling with breath. Like you; he often struggled to sleep deeply, usually not lasting very long when he did manage to.

You were so pissed.

How dare he sleep. And look so good doing it. Even just his bareback looked hot as shit - here you were, a messy, greasy big toe wrestling with your stupid ape brain to shut off the useless brain thoughts, next to this slice of heaven - just, ugh existing so perfectly.

“Oh my god, this is torture.” You cursed quietly into the dead space.

Maybe the frustration was all from hormones?

Nah, fuck that. Feminism and all that jazz. That’s just part of the human condition, babycakes. Happens to the best of us, unfortunately.

No, what it was, was the constant whirring coming from the TV screen and Felix’s PlayStation tower and large monitor. The tiny little flashes, whirrs, huffs from the fan and rotating lights. It was driving you abhorrently insane. FUCK.

“Chan? Channie, baby, are you awake?.” You whispered into the air. His breath faltered a little, stirred mostly by your movement to groan, gruff and flip the duvet off your hot, sticky body. Gentle though you tried to be, it was still enough to wake his fuzzy brain.

“Chan, please. I’m sorry babe but that TV is driving me fucking insane.” Your voice was too alert and frustrated for him not to stir. His heart panged a little at the distress laced in your tone.

“Please, Channie. I’m so sorry…”

He rolled on his back to look at you. Slowly, and with much effort. He groaned softly before wiping his eyes and leaving his arms above his head.

“Hey.” He whispered, warmly smiling.

“Don’t be sorry – can you not sleep again, baby girl?” Chan asked softly, watching you sit stiffly upright. His deep voice made your heart flutter, nodding as he groaned. He smiled despite any resentment you may have allowed him to feel. Resting his warm palm against your rib as he muttered a response - you excused his fumbled words for definition - so tired he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

“You can turn it off, yeah?” Chan sighed.

What he meant was ‘You know how and where to turn it off, without messing up the whole system like last time, right?’. You nodded quickly, squeezing his bicep lightly before slipping from the exposed mattress.

Dashing up to scramble behind the low TV unit and find the one wire to end it all. Your infernal pain that was.

He watched you, letting his eyes rest occasionally. Truth was, you looked so beautiful to him when you were concentrating on something. For example, pulling out the HDMI cord triumphantly. And holding in a small squeal (scream), of relief when the high pitched buzzing cut out with a slight electronic fuzz. He chuckled, not missing your little feet pattering in step with a tiny little victory pump.

“Yes. Fuck. The noise, it’s gone!” Chan chuckled softly, keeping his arm outstretched until you landed beside him. Pulling you toward him, under the covers.

“Yeah, you really got that wire Y/N. Showed it who’s the boss, huh?” His tired enthusiasm outweighed his sarcasm, owning a soft kiss to the cheek as you clambered over the bed, only to flop with a weighted sigh straight down onto his shoulder.

He giggled, smiling with a yawn as he tucked his arm against your ribs, tucking you up against his chest in a bearhug.

You fell asleep quickly; soft breaths and just the presence of Chan's being, enough to satiate the gnawing ache in the back of your brain.

And it was peaceful. Restful. Warm, and so pleasant.

Until it wasn’t.

Turns out tonight wasn’t your night. The clock read 1:28 am – and the boys were due to come home from practice any moment now. To be honest they were pretty late.

Chan had originally had the day off, hence the chance for you to be led here in his arms. But you were starting to think it really hadn’t made that much of a difference.

It wasn’t just the high pitched whirring that had aggravated you, but now the uncomfortable heat radiating from Chan's body. The small whoosh of cool air against your neck at any vehicle that passed by. Or just the evening breeze. You groaned softly, dropping your head back to Chan’s chest with a soft thud, lulling back into a light and unrestful sleep.

Ten minutes or so passed. Waking from a fuzzy dream, you were disorientated. The worst dreams always happened in short little bursts. Like little hellish fever dreams.

The clock now read 1:39 am and the time between minutes was becoming unbearable. Too long to bear . You had to move. Speak. Scream. Cry. Kick. Do something.

Peeling off Chan’s arm, and replacing yourself with a large fluffy pillow, you left your lover to rest. You dread to think that it would be able to replace you, but hey, at least it wouldn’t move like one big fat sweaty ferret, right?

Sigh. Sad times.

You abandoned Chan for the disgustingly bright hallway. Seeking new comforts, from whoever would take you. The boys were home; noises of beings floating down the hall, past Chan’s room.

By the time you had gathered the strength to rise off the bed though – blinking away the stars and excited little lines in your vision and raising enough chi to move your soul, and body upwards off of the bed – an inkling of tiredness was starting to itch into your consciousness.

You ached to be held. Loved.

You weren’t sleepy enough to get back into his bed though. Though; you missed Chan’s body as soon as you had tumbled yourself away from it.

---------

Fetching your favourite fluffy square pillow and putting on one of Chan’s big shirts, you padded out and into the hallway. The door closed behind you with a soft putt, pillow tight against your belly.

The tired but comfortingly loud voices of your other lovers were coming from the kitchen.

You wobbled forward, groaning to yourself as your thighs began to ache. Just from being alive, you guessed. Your thighs tingled your skin into little chilly goosebumps, a shiver sparking down your spine.

Maybe the heat of Chan’s bed wasn’t so bad, you began to consider. Before a voice echoed down to where you were slowly walking from.

“Ya – hold up, I’ll grab my jumper then we can watch that stupid shit-film you were on about earlier?” You heard Jisung shout over the kitchen to the boys gathered on the sofa.

The boys muttered some form of agreement and before you could process it, the firm but soft body of Han Jisung had swung right around the corner and straight into your zombie path.

Being conscious, and not half-dead like you, he was able to stop abruptly in front of you and step back a little. The shock of a body blocking his path was quickly masked with warm love as he cooed at the sight of you.

“Y/n-ieeeeee look at youuuu~” He whispered loudly, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze you firm against his body.

His presence eased you, despite the chaotic energy he may have appeared to have. He was just one big squirrel with muscles. The perfectly-right size to pull you against him, your neck flopping so skin met skin, cheek to shoulder in that white sleeveless shirt of his.

You melted into his caring touch, groaning when he gave a squeeze and actually, not hating how firmly he held you. For a moment, he seemed to be just quietly accepting your unspoken words. Night-long grief expressed in the way you clung to him.

Eventually, he asked the inevitable questions, though.

“Baby, why aren’t you asleep? Hmm, pretty? It’s like, 2 am already!” He exclaimed softly, somewhat conscious of Chan��s sleeping presence down the hall. And your zombie-eardrums.

You couldn’t answer, instead, you let him pull you away so he could peer down at your head against his shoulder. The pillow was a soft barrier between you, though he removed it to place it softly on the floor.

“As cute as you look in Chan’s top right now, baby, this hallway is pretty cold. Gosh damn, your legs are shaking so much. How long have you been standing out here princess? Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” He squeezed you against him once more - rubbing his warm palms against your trembling, shivering thighs.

As he stood back up you groaned again, reluctant to articulate how badly you just wanted to be softly touched. Not aggressively rubbed. Even if you appreciated the notion, it was cutely awkward. Your expression made him laugh softly, tucking hair behind your ear and placing a kiss on your cheek, head, forehead.

“You okay though? Wanna come sit with us?” You nodded quickly, body flopping into his hold as soon as his arms went to lift you. Your head rested on his shoulder, Jisung’s body dipping to lift you and wrap your knees around his hips. He was such a careful, sweet baby boy.

“Ya – come on you big baby, you. Who do you want to be delivered too for the meantime, huh? I gotta go change out of my gym stuff.”

“Hyunjin-ah... please...” You mumbled airily. Despite how unused your voice was, it was sweet as honey. He smiled, responding with a soft “Sure" before turning back to where he had come from. Heart warmed by the opportunity to care for you, even if for just a moment.

And even though he was a bit sticky – and the thought ‘yuck' registered quickly in your half-conscious brain – you didn’t mind the smell. Or the languid way he carried you.

You nuzzled against his neck, groaning once more as his entrance was announced to the room. A loud “Han Jisung's Special Delivery Service!” was projected, I.N. slipping by with a quick ruffle of your hair before moving to turn down the hall, into his room. The boys looked up at the noise and your entrance into the room, immediately softened by the sight.

You, entirely snuggled against a buoyant Jisung, that held you so carefully against his chest. Messy hair tucked under his chin; your eyes were puffy, sore, and barely open as he came into the centre of the soft-lit room.

“Nawww – cuuuutieeee~” Changbin cooed, Lee Know giggling as Seungmin stepped forward to kiss your cheek, sweetly brushing hairs away from your face. The proximity to Jisung didn’t seem to spook his intimacy.

Your eyes fluttered close from the embrace, Seungmin smiling to himself at his ability to soothe you. Even just a little.

“That’s a funny looking jumper, Ji.” Seungmin quipped, before adding a quick “Hi Y/N.” With a small squeeze of your cheek, before heading toward the kitchen.

“Hyunjin-ah you have a special request delivery here, where shall I put her?” Jisung questioned, approaching the sofa nimbly.

Hyunjin smiled, shuffling a little before holding out his arms, patting his lap.

“Right here~” you heard, before feeling gravity weigh at your back. You got off early, aided by Jisung and Hyunjin’s hands on your hips. Quietly you yawned, turning to a barefaced beautiful boy, smiling at you cutely.

Jisung pecked a kiss on your shoulder before passing, leaving to go sort himself out.

Hyunjin smiled up at you with a coo, pulling you down towards him with his long limbs. With you laying, legs tangled above him he wiggled back so you could lay comfortably on his chest.

He kissed your cheek before tucking your forehead against his chin, your eyes slowly bobbing open and shut as his calm vibe washed over you. Changbin shared some of your weight on the somewhat roomy sofa; kissing your hair softly and curling against you to keep you warm.

The television was on a late-night MC show playing. Though it registered to you as white noise. The boy’s voices over you were soothing, even if they edged a little loud occasionally.

At some point, you had started to drift off again. For the most part, Hyunjin was a gentle giant anyways. So despite his resistance to skinship, your body (and some of the boys), was never left out in terms of body-pillow-comforts.

Meaning, he treated your limbs like a very bony pillow he could encapsulate entirely.

You weren’t sure where the others were. Or what part of the sofa you were even on. You figured the end since the guys had their feet up. But you didn’t mind. It was safe. Here, in their arms. Against their bodies.

Even the bright overhead lights of the kitchen and hallway weren’t enough to stop you lulling into sleep.

At a later point, you awoke again with a startle – Jisung shushing your tired whines with a kiss as he jumped onto the sofa to your left, a little too enthusiastically. Hyunjin moaned like a brat, ultimately having a play fight underneath you until you mustered up a death stare to end all squabbles, ever. Period. Jisung settled, intertwining your fingers on Hyunjin’s belly until your breath softened. Falling into a weak slumber once more.

Once again; your sleep was great. Perfect. Until it wasn’t.

An abrupt jostle of Hyunjin jolting to stop spilling the food he held above your head, was met with an unattractive grunt of pure disgust on your part. Eyes squinted, head wrinkled and body tense, you were once again awake.

“Sorry baby! I didn’t mean to wake you!” Hyunjin whined, too loudly next to your throbbing head. Changbin noticed your tense limbs and pulled you backwards against his chest. This merely caused another squabble to ensue between them - who held the right to hold you, like a fluffy comfort blank.

Suddenly everything was bothering you again.

Their constant jostling and boyish movements were just too much. You pulled up from Changbin. Avoiding the tugging, whining, needy arms and hands from Hyunjin to stand weakly once more.

Frustrated. Tired. And all coupled with a reasonably ugly scowl weeping over your face.

They were so engrossed in their silly little arguments, little kicks, punches and teasing laughter, that they barely even noticed your sluggish movements to get up.

Until you were on your feet. Your body heat sapped from them in a bitter attempt at being sour. Hyunjins hands immediately flew out to steady you. Changbin pouting but ultimately letting you retreat once more.

“Y/Nieeee~ Come baaack, I didn’t mean it. Come lay back down, baby~” Hyunjin whined warily, the other two boys still giggling amongst themselves. You swatted against the tiredness on your face, grumbling before stumbling backwards.

You made it a few steps before you folded over on impact at hitting the kitchen table. The table thudded on impact and the boys winced, watching your face scrunch up in pain immediately.

A new pair of hands caught you this time, stuttering before lean arms caught you.

“Woah! Careful there pretty girl, nearly took the whole bloody table out. You okay?”

Felix's. Soft, caring and most importantly soft voice and calm motions of support waved over you in a way that gave you immediate comfort. You rested your head against his chest as he tugged you up, body slumping into him with an inaudible impact. He giggled, despite your weighted movements, speaking lowly with that deep, tired voice of his.

“Y/N, you silly sausage, are you alright?” He prompted quietly, leaning his head down to capture your whines and huffs of pain.

“Owww, my butt… That hurt~” You groaned, not minding his giggles but sending a puffy glare to the others snickering away on the sofa.

The table (or your idiot bulldozer body), had set a deep ache right into the cheek of your butt. Your hand kneaded it gently before Felix’s hand quickly replaced yours, rubbing and squeezing softly until your face scrunched, the pain subsiding.

“Ouch.” You whispered, peering up at him with a pout. He kissed your nose cutely with a little eruption of giggles, helping you crack a pouty smile.

“Come on, cutie.” He mumbled before grabbing your hand to guide you slowly into the kitchen. “I could kiss it better?” He prompted, ultimately softening at your lack of response. You were so morgue-ish you hadn’t even registered his words. Letting him tug you blindly as your eyes struggled to stay open.

You could barely register his hands, pressing at your waist. Weakly managing to hold on as he lifted you on top of the counter. Squinting, you could see the clock read 2:23 (am) on the cooker. Ugh. What a night.

You’d feel shit in the morning. But that was nearly impossible to think about with the way Felix was holding you right now. Like a baby. Or a puppy. A little ball of fluff.

He kept some form of contact as he moved around you – a hand to the knee or his hip between your legs. Or even lips against your hairline, using the counter space around you to do something. What he was doing, you were tired to even care.

“You know what used to help me Y/N? When I couldn’t sleep at night?” He prompted gently. You shook your head, pulling back with a weak sway

“Warm milk and honey!” He exclaimed quietly. Too cute for his own good. You smiled, and he pulled you against his chest to kiss your cheek and giggle delicately.

“You want some? Then we could try to sleep? You look like you need some shut-eye, baby. Don’t wanna miss out on that beauty sleep! If you want - we can always sleep in – just call in sick? Your boss is honestly so nice, I'm sure she won’t mind. You say you’re always working through lunch breaks anyway?”

Despite his rambling, you just nodded. Tired eyes once again resting as the hum of the radiator, the vibration of his chest eased your brain. Your head tucked so right underneath his chin. His palms folded behind your lower back.

At some point, Changbin had appeared. Sweeping a thumb over your forehead before kissing you sweetly, cheek resting on Felix’s shoulder.

“I love you, princess. Sorry for waking you.” He had whispered against your lips. “Mmm-I-love-you-too-Binnie~” You managed in one tumbling sentence. In fairness, the touch would've probably led you both somewhere (the bedroom), if you weren’t in such a zombie-like state.

“Sure thing, pretty.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your puffy cheeks before retreating. He let you both be, cold marble beneath your thighs now warmed by your constant body heat. You passed out pretty quickly against Felix’s chest. Cocooned, safe.

What you did miss in your deep, deep sleep was the way they carried you.

Felix physically, to their shared room. Changbin carrying your drinks and fetching your favourite pillow from the hall.

And what you heavenly missed in the night; they made up to you in the morning.

And the next night. And the night after that.

Because even though you occasionally suffered restless nights, you knew one of them would always be there to catch you.

And you’d do the same for them.

P.S. Fuck Chan’s wiring system. Extension cables were the bane of your nightly living. *holds up fingers in a cross and hisses*

well would you look at that: updated 03/OCTOBER/2021

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recoveryfriend · 4 years ago

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since there have been a few posts circulating about dental care lately, i think maybe it’d be good to make my own post about dental care for those with eating disorders.

most people in the ed world know how harmful purging via self-induced vomiting is for the teeth, but in reality all eating disorder behaviors are extremely bad for your teeth. those who restrict their calories or nutrients end up weakening the jaw bone through malnutrition, which also weakens teeth and leads to dental erosion. restriction can also have a dry mouth effect, which puts you at higher risk for tooth decay. those who purge via vomiting expose their teeth to stomach acid, which wears away enamel and increases the risk of tooth decay. and people who binge expose their teeth to high volumes of sugars/carbohydrates, which sets up an acid attack that will ultimately lead to decay—which is even worse if the binging is followed by purging.

so, here is some dental hygiene info that could’ve saved me a lot of money and teeth if i had known them before recovery!

disclaimer: i am a recovery safe blog, and do not promote ed behaviors. but everyone deserves to know how to take care of themselves best, even if they’re still engaging in disordered behaviors or aren’t in recovery at all! so this post will not center around recovery, because it is for people in relapse or pre-recovery. therefore, it might be triggering if discussing ed behaviors at all will make you uncomfortable.

a lot of times people with eds fall into all-or-nothing thinking, and rationalize that they’ve already done so much damage to their teeth so it doesn’t matter if they get worse. they’ll get exhausted easily and convince themselves that ending the day with tooth brushing isn’t that important, because they’re so tired. or, sometimes anorexics feel like they can hold off on brushing because they haven’t eaten that day. do not fall into these impulses, and definitely push yourself to brush!

but if you really are too exhausted to brush more than once a day, it’s most important to brush at night. get single use flossers or waterless toothbrushes if fatigue is something you struggle with severely. it’ll help, and you can even keep them by the bed if it’s what you have to do.

most well informed bulimics/people who purge already know that they shouldn’t brush their teeth for at least an hour after vomiting. what not a lot of people consider is that the same is true for brushing in general! don’t brush for at least an hour after eating or drinking anything, but especially acidic foods (and this includes sugars!) because you risk brushing the acid into your teeth.

if you vomit, afterwards swish with baking soda or oil pull with coconut oil to reduce acidity if you don’t have access to mouthwash. even just water will help.

use mouthwash/rinses after vomiting or eating, but not after brushing. mouthwash has less fluoride than toothpaste, and will wash away the fluoride you just applied to your teeth when brushing. obviously, water and other rinses will do the same. don’t swish after brushing at all.

online pro-ed spaces love to sing the praises of black coffee and diet coke. but who knew, bathing your teeth in acidic liquids often is pretty bad for them! so if you drink multiple cups of coffee or any soda a day, drink it with a straw to save your teeth a bit. pour your coffee over ice cubes if you only have plastic straws (or if drinking hot coffee with a straw is weird to you). swish with water when you’re done, if you’re able.

something that might be helpful: because the acidity situation is similar, view consuming coffee, sodas, and high sugar binges similarly to how you view self induced vomiting in terms of aftercare. that means swish with something immediately after, and don’t brush for at least an hour later.

another thing people with eds love: gum. so if you’re a gum chewer, make sure you choose a sugarless gum with xylitol to help your teeth a bit. xylitol gum can be helpful because it promotes salivary flow, which will also help a bit with dry mouth. hard candies are effective with this too.

about dry mouth: dry mouth can expedite the formation of cavities, and dry mouth is an effect of most disordered eating behaviors. if you have dry mouth, swish water around in your mouth a little bit when drinking if you can remember to. if you can swish semi frequently with mouthwash (alcohol free), that’s even better! they also make rinses with xylitol for this express purpose.

don’t use a whitening toothpaste or mouthwashes with alcohol. they’re abrasive, and will exacerbate the sensitivity you likely already feel. use a desensitizing toothpaste if you can, and an alcohol free fluoride mouthwash.

people with eating disorders are often embarrassed to go to the dentist because they’re afraid they’ll be called out for their ed behaviors, because dentists can often notice the affects of disordered eating before anyone else can and are the first line of defense. you might also feel a little guilty at the dentist because of significant effects on the mouth from ed behaviors— like bad breath, sensitivity, and tooth erosion. please don’t let these be deterrents to seeking dental care! especially if recovery isn’t at the front of your agenda, dental care really is extremely important. don’t hide from your dentist, tell them what’s going on so they can help you properly.

lastly! this is just general advice, but if you struggle to remember how long to brush for, something that was really fun and helpful for me was creating a brushing playlist! go through your spotify library, and add songs (or maybe a few stand up comedy bits for zest) that are roughly 2 minutes and some change! then when it’s time to brush you have a timer that isn’t totally boring!

if you can find it in you to care about protecting yourself from health hazards, even if you’re not ready to recover yet—that’s a valuable step towards caring for yourself fully. so if you’re scared of the ways disordered eating has harmed your teeth, and feel compulsed to take care of your health, that’s great! any step towards learning to care for yourself is valuable part of the journey. i hope you’re finding ways to offer yourself love and keep yourself safe, in whatever form they come in. the recovery community is here to support you, no matter what point in process you’re in.

#dental care #dental hygiene #not about recovery #<< please filter if posts like this bother you!#purging mention

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papa-rhys · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Jack and His Borderline Personality Disorder and How It Shows Through His Behaviour - Because I Cannot Stop Analysing Things That Ultimately Aren’t Important

Symptoms/behaviours under the cut because holy hell this guy has a lot of them. Like, honey, are you okay?

Okay, so I’m pretty sure I can trace Jack’s BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) back to his grandmother. His mum abandoned him, which shows a reckless/irresponsible behaviour and her mum had fits of rage that didn’t correlate at all with the trigger (ie; drowning Jack’s cat because he didn’t make his bed). So I think he has a family history of it, with both his mother and grandmother having BPD and passing it down to him.

Either way, Jack definitely has it. In fact, he’s a textbook case of it.

Impulsivity

Spending sprees: he bought a pony made of diamonds because he was bored and throws money at all kinds of ventures to keep him occupied and because he wants to. I really don’t know how else to describe this one lol. He bought a pony. Made of diamonds. Because he could.

Gambling: won some of the things on his trophy shelf through poker and owns an entire casino. Hunting the Vaults themselves were a huge gamble too, especially the first two, since he wasn’t truly sure that they existed. He was prepared to sacrifice a lot in order to come out on top in both his career and his social standing. All in all, he’s reckless.

Binge eating: he doesn’t even like pretzels, but still eats them because he’s either bored or stressed. Talks about food quite a bit in conversation, too, especially his cravings.

Substance abuse: admits to being high on uppers for the duration of the pre sequel (and his time on Elpis as a whole) and tells further anecdotes about drugs and getting high in tftbl.

Promiscuity/unsafe sex: nothing about having sex with Nisha is safe lol. But in all seriousness, there’s no way to prove this one. He does strike me as the reckless sex sort though. No proof, just 7 years of knowing him as a character.

Emotional instability

Inappropriate trigger response: he strangles a man to death for simply mentioning his wife, stabs Lilith for talking about Angel, and tries to kill Rhys for not being sure about his grand plan (more on this later). His response to triggers is disproportionate, often resulting in extreme anger over small things that don’t warrant that intense of a reaction. He gets big angry about almost everything; there’s no middle ground. His reaction is never really “you’re annoying me a lot” or “don’t talk about that, I don’t like it.” His reaction to almost everything is “oh my god I will murder your first born child how dare you-”

Quickly changing mood: aside from being prone to fits of rage at the flick of a switch, Jack also flicks back to “normal” pretty quickly, too. He flips between telling you to kill yourself after surviving the train and then talks casually about his day. He’ll be filled with rage after Angel’s death and then suddenly he’s laughing about you jumping into lava and having fun tricking you into visiting his grandmother. He can be intensely angry or sorrowful one moment and then nonchalant and sociable the next. His moods don’t last very long.

Idolisation/devaluation

Jack does this with numerous people across the games, but the two shining examples are Moxxi and Rhys; Rhys being the most notable. He idolises Moxxi, complimenting her on how attractive she is and how smart she is and including her in his circle of close friends/teammates. Then the inevitable happens and she lets him down and he instantly changes his opinion on her as if he’d never thought she was good to begin with. The same happens with Rhys. Throughout tftbl, Jack is best friends with Rhys and seems to form a one-sided connection with him where he idolises him and thinks they’re going to be best friends for ever and that they’re the perfect team. You cannot make him mad at you in tftbl (trust me, I’ve tried). He’s encouraging to Rhys the whole way through, like they’re brothers. Then the second Rhys displays doubts about something Jack is passionate about, Jack reacts violently and completely devalues Rhys, claiming him to be his mortal enemy and trying to kill him. People with BPD do this often. They have strong convictions and have a tendency to feel betrayed by people who go against those convictions. Jack does this regularly and it leads to the breakup of a lot of his relationships.

Paranoia

He vented a room full of scientists into space, just in case. I mean, that pretty much sums it up, really. Jack is under a lot of stress at this point in the game and stress-induced paranoia is a particularly difficult symptom of BPD. With him already feeling the pressure, the mention of a possible mole is a huge trigger for Jack. Especially since he’s reeling from the recent betrayal from a friend. His brain is already working over time, planting uneasy feelings of distrust and being unsafe. So when he’s presented with the idea from an outside source, he runs with it. Betrayal goes on to become a big button to push in Jack’s life to the extent that he actively betrays people before they get a chance to betray him (ie; killing Wilhelm). Paranoia feeds into a lot of Jack’s bad decisions, particularly in the pre sequel era.

Delusion

Jack wasn’t lying when he told us that he’s the hero. He absolutely was not the hero at all, but he wasn’t lying about it. Because lying about something implies that you know it’s not true, and Jack genuinely believes he’s a good person. The best person, in fact. It’s not a lie because in his mind, it’s the god given truth. He’s massively delusional, even before the events of the pre sequel. He’ll spout all the cheesy 80s movie lines about saving the moon and being the hero and he thinks he’s the protagonist of his own big adventure. We know that’s not what’s happening, but Jack doesn’t see it that way. Another delusion is the idea he has about how much everyone loves him. He thinks Moxxi is obsessed with him and he thinks Angel is being forced to work against him. He cannot conceive of a world in which people don’t like him or agree with him. Because why wouldn’t they agree with him? He’s the hero. Everybody loves the hero...

Intense but unstable relationships

Moxxi, Angel, Lilith, the Vault Hunter; I could go on. Jack’s relationships with people are volatile and rocky, even when they’re seemingly on the same side like with Moxxi or even Nisha (who he forms a tight bond with very quickly). People with BPD feel all emotions intensely, which causes a roller coaster. Jack really likes Moxxi, but then he doesn’t want to talk to her, but then he wants her on the team, but then he gets mad at her for calling him a pet name and beign friendly, and then he’s telling her she’s sexy, and then he’s cursing her, and then he’s hanging pictures of her in his casino. It’s the same with Angel - he subjects her to physical torture, then he loves her, then he’s mad at her for helping the Vault Hunter, then he’s doting on her, then he’s manipulating her, then he’s grieving for her. Everything is a whirlwind.

Distorted self-image

Oh boy. Jack has this physically and mentally. Mentally in the sense that he thinks he’s a good person when he actions are abhorrent and also because he’s massively insecure. BPD often comes with a lack of identity, which causes insecurity to begin with. Throw that in a pot alongside some childhood abuse, betrayal, work place bullying, and grief, and you got yourself a big pot of insecurity soup. Put plainly, Jack doesn’t really know who he is at his baseline. His personality and interests and ideas and needs all change on an hourly basis. He morphs to suit his circumstances. He can be open, honest and down to earth when he’s trying to trick Rhys. He can be full of worry and desperation when he needs you to head to grandma’s house. He can be cunning and clever when he’s tricking you into killing Wilhelm. He can be fatherly, he can be nasty, he can be torturous, he can be laid back, he can be clever, he can be ignorant, he can be sheepish, he can be cocky. He’s everyone and no one all at once and this probably leaves him feeling very hollow and empty; which is another symptom of BPD. In the physical sense, Jack issues with self image are pretty clear. He wears a face over his face to hide his face. Yup. And he does this because he thinks he’s disgracefully ugly. This scar he’s so vehemently protective of is something that defines his whole persona going forward. He literally claims himself as Handsome Jack, forcing people to adhere to the idea that he’s so attractive that it should be his title. Even though he doesn’t feel that way and does everything he can to hide the real him. He thinks he’s hideous and he struggles between loving himself and hating himself because of it.

Fear of abandonment

Aaaand here we are at the crux of the problem. BPD boils down to the intense fear of abandonment and this is probably what guides Jack for most of his life. His father died, his mother literally abandoned him, his grandmother neglected him, his first wife died, second wife left, girlfriend and friends betrayed him, and daughter killed herself to get away from him. Abandonment is practically coded into Jack’s DNA at this point and every time it happens, it confirms his fears more. He clings to Moxxi after she betrays him - taking her ideas to try and rile her up and even going as far as to recreate her entire bar in his casino because he wants to keep her presence around. He fights tooth and claw against Angel’s rebellion, begging both her and you to stop what you’re doing and leave. The only time he begs you is when he’s facing perceived abandonment, that’s how strong the fear is. His final words to Angel are “I’ll still forgive you.” Jack isn’t a forgiving man by any stretch, but he’ll say anything he has to in order to prevent her from leaving him. He’ll stalk people, he’ll manipulate them, he’ll lie to them or keep them physically locked up - all to prevent them from abandoning him. The worst possible thing that could happen to Jack is that, and we see the spiral he slips into after Angel. After Moxxi. After the Meriff. After his wife. He can’t bare the thought of someone leaving him and he’ll do anything and everything to prevent his fears becoming a reality.

So yeah! There it is, I finally got around to posting it lol. There’s probably a lot more little details that I’ve forgotten, but I cannot think of them right now. I’ll probably update if I think of any more! The tl;dr is that almost all of Jack’s behaviour can be linked to massively untreated BPD. He needed meds and therapy, but he didn’t get them and he spiralled as a result.

#handsome jack #borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands the pre sequel #bl headcanons

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