#ill rant about this later to anyone who wants to hear it too

[webtoon-toon-toon-toon-toon]

No cis!Arlo option just because

[rin-may-1103]

Just a Bite.

Master Post | Next

Danny stared out at the busy street from behind his dumpster.

or well, not his dumpster, but it might as well be his considering how many nights he's spent sitting behind it like some rabid raccoon.

Two months ago, he would have been sleeping in his own bed. His glow-in-the-dark stars vaguely lighting up his room in soft luminescent colors. The sound of Jazz snoring in her sleep just a room over, his parents still milling around in the basement.

he would have just finished fighting the box ghost and collapsed onto his bed, the sound of his home lulling him to sleep.

Oh, how things can change in a blink of an eye.

No, instead of sleeping on his bed with his cartoon ghost sheets and NASA poster covered room, he's out here in some random dirty city, sleeping behind dumpsters.

dirty, grimy, rusty dumpsters.

"did you hear?" some lady dressed in a light blue summer dress asked, turning to look at her friend as they started to walk past. "Mr. Wayne donated another lump sum to that charity." she huffed, shaking her head like she had just said the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard.

her friend stopped in the middle of the alley opening, her graying hair splaying in an ark as she twisted to face the other women. "my word! again? what the hell is that man thinking?"

the woman huffed, then smirked in amusement. "it's like he's shouting for the world to hear how desperate he is for attention. he thinks if he donates enough money to those scoudrails they'll love him or something. With how he's acting lately, it's like he wants all the street rats to barge into his home asking for money, food, and clothes."

her friend clicked her tongue in disgust, "I'd believe it. he has so many kids now, it's like he's running an orphanage. someone, anyone really, with black hair and some tragic story could walk right in and not even be noticed. they'd blend right in with the others."

"I heard it's genetic, his father was the same way before he met Martha. Bruce's blood son, Damian I believe, acts just like his father. the boy's been spotted taking stray cats and dogs inside. It wouldn't surprise me if the paper posted about him convincing his father for another sibling at some point."

the women then turned and started to walk away, their conversation slowly bleeding into the surrounding city ruckus.

Danny leaned back, resting his head against the crumbling brick behind him.

walk right in and not be noticed? wouldn't that be grand. He had heard of Mr. wayne and his gaggle of black-haired children. What were their names again? he could have sworn Sam told him before, in one of her rants about rich society.

Richard Grayson was the first, Danny remembered because Tucker had been making none stop dick jokes for a few hours. Danny didn't understand why the man would willingly go by Dick, but then again, who was he to question someone's name when he fights ghosts like Skulker and Technis on a daily basis?

Next was... Jason? Sam had mentioned there was a whole conspiracy theory of how his death was a cover-up. how all the unsolved crime community swore it was Bruce who killed the kid, that or the kid had some terminal illness that Bruce didn't want the media to know about.

thennnnnn-

Danny glanced around, trying to dig through his memories of Sam's rant. Dick: the orphaned circus act taken in the night his parents died. he's romanie? maybe, Danny wasn't too sure on that one. Jason: taken off the streets, one of his parents was out of the picture and the other one died of a drug overdose.

and then there was..... Tim! Right, Tim, the one who was Mr. Wayne's neighbor before his mother died and his dad went into a coma, then died later on. right, right. he was the known tech genius, the one who took over the company while Mr. Wayne stepped back for a while.

there were others? like, four others? Damian, the lady said he was the blood son sooo, that would imply he was the only bio kid.

who else was there? hmmmm.

well, either way, Danny's tired brain agreed with the women. someone, anyone, who looked vaguely like the other kids could walk right into the house and no one would notice.

it was a bad idea. a terrible one really. but. Danny was hungry.

he's been sleeping behind dumpsters for a few weeks now, he hadn't had anything good to eat in forever, and he was tired. (not as exhausted as he was back home, but still tired. who would have guessed he'd sleep more while homeless?)

he wasn't going to steal from people, his core wouldn't allow him to. and well, he's pretty sure Dan would have stolen already, so there was no way Danny was going to. not unless his life was at risk, and well? it wasn't right now, so no stealing.

but this? walking right into a house and blatantly taking food? right in front of them?

it wouldn't be stealing if he just flat-out didn't try to hide it. they'd be able to stop him and send him away. heck, he doubted he'd even make it past the front gate before they turned him away.

...

was he really going to do this?

...

yes, yes he was.

standing up, Danny started making his way out of the alleyway and over to the tall building with Wayne's name on it. It was a good place to start, maybe he could even find one of the kids and walk with them. or, even better, he could find Mr. Wayne and walk with him. he liked that better than following some kid around.

suddenly, a car honked right next to him, the window rolling down to reveal a tired and disheveled man behind the wheel. glancing up, Danny made eye contact with the taxi driver.

the man yawned and gestured for him to get in, already speaking before Danny could decline. "Mr. Wayne! Your father," yawn, "Father already paid for me to take you home. just hop in."

Danny blinked then glanced around, looking to see if the Wayne the man was talking about was around. nope. turning back, Danny spotted a green sticky note on the back seat.

well, alright then. guess he was getting into the taxi and doing this after all. Clockwork obviously approved if he messed with the timing of things.

Next

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[futuremrscameron]

❀˖°bahamian!reader❀˖°

content warnings: suicidal ideation, (accidental) shooting, symptoms of mental illness, hints of dom/sub dynamic, referenced sexual content, implied/referenced violence, major spoilers for outer banks s1-3, hints of rafebarryoc

bahamian!reader and rafe met in the bahamas. after shooting sarah and behaving his worries dismissed by ward, rafe found himself standing at the shoreline contemplating ending it all when a voice called out to him. he thought she was an angel at first but no angel would call him "bey"

he whips his head around to find the voice. it’s an angel?

"what the hell were you doing?" her thick accent catches him off guard. he rationalizes it though, angels are theoretically from all over and he is in bahamas, so if he died there then that would make sense

“ay? ya hear me man?”

he looks around for anyone else and points at himself?

“ya see anyone else in the water?”

he shakes his head. she chuckles and it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard.

“are you an angel?”

she smirks, “angel? never heard that one before. no man, i’m just a gal.” she chuckles as she makes her way down the sandhill.

“am i dead?”

she frowns as she closes the distance between them. “if i ain’t an angel how are you dead?”

he blushes, embarrassed at the stupid thought but intrigued by the woman.

“it’s okay. so?”

“so?”

“wanna get out of the water?”

oh right. he is in the water. he didn’t get too far before she came, the waves come up to his hips.

“sure.” he pushes past the current to reach the beauty on land.

three hours later

“your ole’man sounds like shit.”

“yeah.”

“well.”

“well?”

“what ya gon’ do?”

“i don’t know.”

“well, how long you here for?”

he squints, “why?”

she shrugs, looking down at their hands side by side, “can help ya figure it out. and,” she connects their fingers and meets his eyes. “you’re cute.” she smiles.

bahamian!reader is the oldest of five siblings so she can somewhat relate to rafe’s struggles

bahamian!reader who owns a bar that sits on a dock near the same beach she met rafe at

bahamian!reader and rafe long distance dating after she refuses to go back to obx with him.

“what do you mean you can’t?”

“what part of i cant is confusin’?” she rolls her eyes, she loves the boy but his emotional maturity and poor communication skills leaves much to be desired.

“i got family. little ones who rely on me.”

“i could take care of you.”

“i know and i love that about you but… i gatte do this on my own.”

he gets out because he understands what it’s like to want to prove yourself and be the hero/savior.

“i’ll call you every day ey?”

he nods. that won’t do. she softly but firmly grips his chin, making him meet her eyes. “ah, use your words.”

he lets out a soft, “okay.”

a grin blooms on her face, “good boy.”

bahamian!reader who the pogues (mostly jj) do not believe exists. rafe shows her off to to kelce and topper at the country club and jj sees her over his shoulder while working

“no way she’s real.” rafe doesn’t look back as he flicks off the boy.

“fuck off pogue.”

jj smirks, knowing he got under the kook king’s skin with his comment. he leans against the wall behind them. “next thing you know you’re gonna tell me she’s from canada.”

rafe nearly knocks the table over as he bolts up from his chair. he reaches the blonde boy in two strides, holding his collar in his hands. “you wanna keep this job and your teeth i suggest you mind your business and get our fucking order down.

bahamian!reader who answers rafe’s calls all the time no matter what she’s doing

“how could she do this? i mean we’re her family!” rafe paces back and forth in his room as he rants into his phone.

she holds her flip phone between her neck and ear while she washes the remaining dishes from the last couple of guests. “rafe, you tried to kill her.”

“oh so you’re on her side.”

she slams her fist down against the counter, “don’t start rafe. i’m not in the mood ey?”

bahamian!reader who meets up with rafe in guadeloupe. she missed rafe so when he told her about ward’s plan to move after acquiring the cross she knew it was the perfect opportunity

she wanted to surprise him, it’s why she didn’t tell him about her plan to hop on a plane and meet him in guadeloupe. it was hard to act like she was too busy to facetime but the look on his face when she surprised him at his home was worth it.

“ray!” he turns around at the familiar melodic voice and is tackled with a hug.

he looks up at the woman hovering above him, grinning down at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. his chest feels warm, it’s a good feeling, he never wants to let her go.

“you’re here.” he cradles her face in his hand, he pulls back like he’s been burned when he makes contact with flesh.

she frowns, “wouldn’t pass up the chance to see you bey! not when you’re so close.”

she closes the distance with a kiss, he’s surprised at first but reciprocates almost immediately. he wraps his arms around her waist as she moans into the kiss.

“rafe!?”

the couple parts at rose’s interruption. she looks at rafe, at the mystery girl, and back at rafe. “who’s this?”

rafe sighs, “we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

bahamian!reader and rafe who spend all their time in guadeloupe in bed

she traces circles on rafe’s chest as the overhead fan does its best to cool the couple down. it’s no use, they’re sweat like pigs in a blanket. from their strenuous exercise. a very expensive blanket. she breaks the silence first, “ya know some fresh air wouldn’t kill ya.”

rafe looks down at her with a raised brow, “yeah?”

she pouts, “you don’t agree.”

she tries to hide it but he sees her. he immediately tries to soften the blow, “i didn’t say that, i just… we’ve only got so much time together.”

“yeah and i don’t wanna spend it all inside.”

he smirks at her soft tone and pouting, its not often he gets to see the usually bold woman like this. “you weren’t complaining thirty minutes ago.”

“mmhm you just want me to yourself.” she stretches her arms above her head, the sheets fall showing off her figure.

rafe grips her thigh, “can you blame me?”

she throws her legs over his hips and smiles down at him, “no.”

the pair spend the rest of the day inside.

bahamian!reader who is very strict and it’s her coworkers and only soft with her

“rafe i told you not to call me when i’m working.”

“i miss you.”

she instantly melts upon hearing the desperation in his voice, “awww i miss you too. how’s my baby doing?”

bar patrons and employees alike stare in shock and confusion as they watch her speak softly to someone other than her siblings. they all agree to find out who this mystery man is and why he has this affect on her.

bahamian!reader who gets along well with barry despite rafe trying to keep the two apart because they represent conflicting parts of his life (he’s jealous)

“barry!” she all but hops out the passenger seat as the car comes to a stop in front of barry’s trailer.

“there’s my girl.” she runs to the man and throws her arms around him. he spins her around, once, twice. too many times for rafe’s liking. she giggles.

“yo keep your hands where i can see them.” the pair turn to face rafe who slams the car door shut behind him.

“me or barry?”

“yes.”

barry rolls his eyes and looks down at the woman in his arms, “he in a mood?”

“ey, its awful, cried all the way here.”

barry smirks, “our boy don’t know how to act.” she shakes her head in faux disappointment, “at all at all.”

“i can hear you!”

bahamian!reader splits her time equally between the bahamas and obx

“i can’t believe you’re leaving me.” rafe sits on his bed watching her pack her suitcase.

she rolls her eyes, “hey! none of that ya hear. you had me for the summer now i got to go back to the chirren.”

he wraps his arms around her slowly kissing her neck, erasing the little sense she has left. “the oldest is sixteen baby, they can look after themselves for a little longer.”

“rafe.” she groans.

the kisses grow more frequent and feverish, “come on. one more week.”

she knows she shouldn’t but he’s so persuasive. she looks back at him, who can say no to those baby blue eyes.

“fine.”

he grins and kisses her face, she giggles at the feverish but silly flurry of kisses.

bahamian!reader says “i love you” first which shocks herself and rafe

bahamian!reader who really likes rafe but refuses to go any further until she gains the approval of her siblings

rafe is not the gretest with kids. he couldn’t even watch his seven year old sister at ten because he was “untrustworthy” and “immature” (that part never made sense to him he was ten for fuck sake). he knew he wasn’t number one on the ‘trustworthy adult to watch kids’ list, its why he knew something was up when rose left wheelie in his care.

all that to say he was sure he was gonna fuck up the first meeting he had with her siblings. “what if they hate me?” he looks at his reflection.

she looks up from her magazine, “they won’t.”

rafe nods but still doesn’t meet her eyes. he fiddles with the family ring before asking, “what if they do?”

she manages to catch his eyes this time, her cold smile sends shivers down his spine. “then i’ll dump you.”

he frowns, “not funny.”

she shrugs, “not jokin’.”

“great motivation. seriously you should do ted talks.” she leans up and kisses his forehead, “you’ll do great.”

he does great. especially after he realizes that their deep questions and calculating stares are there to made sure he doesn’t hurt their sister. he can respect that. he would do the same.

bahamian!reader who wants to have a family with rafe and is ecstatic when she sees those two pink lines

[fernandopiastri28]

quand c’est - part 5 ~ ln4 x op81

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

Damage? Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. “Will I be able to drive again?” Lando’s voice raises and wobbles, tears he can’t even feel dribbling down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to imagine a life without racing. He’s only just gotten his first win a few months back, he can’t lose it all now.

warnings: major illness, cancer, sickness, brain damage

Lando’s body feels fuzzy- if that’s possible.

Where is he?

He should be in the car, he knows he hasn’t finished the race yet. He still has a chance- he’s doing so well, he’s guaranteed at least 6 points.

So why can’t he move an inch? Why can’t he feel the familiar rumble of the car underneath him? Why can he just see chipping white paint above him for as far as he can see?

“He just- he doesn’t know when to say when, and-and it scares me,” There’s a stammering and choked voice cutting through the painful silence of the room. It’s one he knows just as well as he knows his own.

But right now, everything feels unfamiliar. His hearing feels like an old recorded tape, his teeth feel like they’ve been awkwardly shoved into his mouth, and his body- just isn’t his.

Bile shoots up his throat, and he feels immobilised. He can’t turn his head to cough or vomit it out- it’s like he’s frozen in place. He’s in a hospital, he can figure out that much. There’s an IV in his hand and a drip attached, slow trickles of water making their way into his system.

“Like- he fucking knows he’s unwell- he’s on the brink of death, but he’s too proud to ever accept it,” Who ever it is is clearly on the phone, passionately ranting about someone who Lando can only assume is himself.

Lando should’ve expected that. He let down a whole lot of people in Singapore. Himself- first off, the whole McLaren team- especially Zac and Andrea, all the McLaren fans who’d paid good money to see him race tonight and he’d just bombed it.

Most of all- he knows he has disappointed Oscar.

Maybe that’s who’s talking. “And I- I worry about him, all the fucking time. He never lets himself fully recover from anything. Las Vegas last year- he insisted on going out clubbing like two days later. In Amsterdam when he got that fucking cut on his nose and didn’t let anyone clean him up so now he’s got a permanent scar on his nose.”

Oscar’s still in the car. It must be Jon.

“He just- he won’t let anyone take care of him- even me. I just, I just wish he knew how willing I would be. I would drop anything to make sure he’s alright. Like-” Whoever it is is struggling to speak clearly, their voice stuffy and thick with tears. Lando feels awful, not just his body, but because he knows that this is his own doing.

The voice goes silent for a while, the noise of someone on the other end of the line quietly speaking sounds nothing more than a mumble to Lando. It almost feels like his ears have been stuffed with cotton.

“I’m just worried about him, Logan,” Logan? Why on earth would Logan be out of the car and on the phone. Better yet, why is Jon calling Logan Sargeant?

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice seems foreign, not attached to himself.

“Holy sh- Logan, he’s awake, I’ve gotta go,” Oscar hangs up the phone, rushing to Lando’s side to cling onto the edge of his hospital bed. “Lans,” He whispers, wiping his hand over the brit’s forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Lando spaces out, Oscar’s face becoming a blurry sight. “Why am I not in the car?”

Oscar looks away, chewing at his bottom lip. He’s being avoidant, trying to think of a way to let Lando down slowly- whatever the reason is.

“You crashed into Fernando.”

“Alonso?”

“No, Gasly.” He replies stone faced, “Of course Alonso,” Oscar’s face softens, a small smile appearing.

Lando grins for a moment, rolling his eyes. It falters when it sinks in what Oscar just said. You crashed into Fernando, not Fernando crashed into you. It was Lando’s fault.

“Why’d I crash? Was it wet out?” Memories of Sochi fill his head, fucking rain ruining his races. “Was there something wrong with the car?” He wants to be logical, and he’s trying to do that the best he can, but it all feels unexplainable. He can’t have crashed, there’s just no way.

“They think that-” Oscar shuts his eyes for a moment, and Lando can properly see his features again. Pale cheeks dusted an angry red, stained with tear drops. Brown eyes, watery and sore. A mess of hair on top of his head, much like how it normally sits after a race. “They think you had a seizure,”

What. The. Fuck.

“A what?” Lando knew what Oscar had said, but it was easier to play dumb, to pretend he didn’t have a clue as to what the younger boy was talking about. It was easier to play pretend.

Lando had never had a seizure before, nor did he have a history of seizures in his family. It just wasn’t possible.

“A seizure,” Fucking thanks Oscar, I did hear you the first time. “They’ve done a few tests on your head so..” Oscar’s tongue prods at the inside of his cheek, like he’s trying to avoid saying something. “They’re just seeing if there was any damage.

Damage? Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. “Will I be able to drive again?” Lando’s voice raises and wobbles, tears he can’t even feel dribbling down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to imagine a life without racing. He’s only just gotten his first win a few months back, he can’t lose it all now.

Oscar sucks on his bottom lip, his teeth poking out on top of it slightly, “Don’t worry Lando,” He reaches over, hugging Lando to his chest tightly, “The doctors are taking good care of you, I’ll take care of you, I promise you will race again,”

Lando has never known Oscar to lie. If Oscar is promising that Lando will race again, Lando will race again.

A bubble forms in Lando’s throat, choking him, “I’m so sorry, Osc,” Oscar’s eyes immediately go wide with panic, unsure as to why Lando’s apologising. “I sh-should’ve listened to you, I’m such a fucking idiot,”

It’s because it’s clicking now- Oscar was complaining to Logan about how he never listens to him. He’s right, Lando is an awful boyfriend who doesn’t know how to fucking take care of himself. They’re supposed to be a couple, yet it’s more like Oscar’s his caretaker, and Lando hates himself for being Oscar in that position.

“Oh, Lans,” His voice is breathy as he drags his fingers along Lando’s cheek, soft and faint. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, I’m not mad,” He kisses Lando’s forehead, his eyes studying each twitch Lando’s face makes.

Oscar’s not mad, but he’s definitely disappointed.

You stupid fuck, Lando Norris.

“Okay,” His voice halters, a forced response. They both go silent after that, Oscar holding Lando’s right hand in his own, kissing the back of the Brit's hand every so often.

Lando stares up at the ceiling. It’s better than looking at Oscar who just looks so broken and concerned. Lando will only hate himself more and more if he looks at Oscar, looks at who he let down.

“Mr Piastri, Mr Norris,” A doctor announces her presence in the room with a barely there knock on the door. It’s been a few hours of Lando laying and staring at the ceiling, he can only assume based on how it’s beginning to become bright outside. Lando tilts his head up, only then noticing that the pain in his head is almost fully gone.

Being doped up is a good feeling.

“Yes?” Oscar looks towards her, keeping Lando’s hand in his. He licks his lips, holding his breath in anticipation. He knows he needs to stay calm, he needs to stay strong for Lando no matter what the doctor says.

The doctor sucks in a deep breath. She looks no older than 25, which realistically she must be, but she looks only just older than the two boys. She looks like an experienced kid- just as Lando is, just like what he pretends he isn’t. "Mr. Norris, I have some upsetting news,”

Oscar looks at Lando, and Lando doesn;t meet his eyes. He knows that ‘upsetting’ doesn’t even begin to describe whatever he’s about to hear. He’s heard horror stories from acquaintances, he’s watched movies and shows. He knows they’re sugar coating whatever it is.

“So, we were correct- you suffered a tonic-clonic seizure during the race, just as you made contact with..” She trails off, unsure of the name of the driver Lando crashed into. He feels mortified, fucking crashing into the two time world champion of Fernando Alonso. Having a seizure and crashing into Alonso.

“And with the results of your recent MRI- they have detected a mass in the frontal lobe of your brain,” Lando’s eyebrows tighten and Oscar squeezes his hand, grounds him.” And it appears to be malignant,”

Lando doesn’t consider himself a particularly smart guy, and usually, it’s to his disadvantage. Yet, for once, his lack of knowledge for what malignant is means that he gets to stay in that sheltered bubble of nothing is wrong for just a bit longer.

He can pretend nothing is wrong, just for a few moments.

“We have several treatment options, including surgery and chemotherapy, which we can discuss in further detail if you have any questions about them.” Lando feels a tug in his hand, Oscar lurching forward in a sob. It’s bad, malignant must mean it’s bad.

He’s not going to let himself feel it. “Chemo?” Oscar’s voice cracks.

“We fear it has already developed to stage 1 brain cancer,”

Norris's lead is up to 4.5s now with 11 laps to go. Could his 110th grand prix be the occasion of his first victory?

“We are here to support you through every step of this process.”

Norris has finished second eight times and has 15 podiums to his name without winning. Could this finally be the day his luck turns? They're counting down the laps nervously at McLaren.

The door clicks shut and Oscar buries his face into Lando’s chest, “Oh my god Lando, Lans, I’m so sorry,”

Norris's lead ticks past the six seconds mark. Four laps to go and McLaren are practising their best poker faces on the pit wall. Not an inkling of a smile just yet on the face of Zak Brown.

“I love you Lando, I love you and I’m gonna- we’re gonna do this together, you’re gonna get better,”

Three laps to go for Norris. He's under no pressure from behind.

“You’re gonna race again, I promise you,”

Two to go now before F1 has a new race winner.

“You’re gonna win again, we're gonna be on the podium again together,”

Norris is onto his final lap. He can almost push it home from here.

“You’re gonna be a champion, Lans, a world champion,”

Across the line comes Lando Norris to win the 2024 F1 Miami Grand Prix! It's the first grand prix win of his career, and the first for McLaren since Monza 2021, when Daniel Ricciardo hit the top step.

Oscar’s a fucking liar and an idealist. Lando’s not gonna race again, if the brain cancer doesn’t kill him, it’s gonna leave him a shell of the man he once was.

He’s already not the Lando Norris, he’s hardly even Lando.

He’s just sick.

[littleshysheep-at-da]

Hello, I hope you are well. Can you please share some headcanons and canon reflections about Karnatia and Schlain? I really loved the ones that you did for Wrath. Thank you so much!

Thank you so much for the well wishes! I’m still VERY ill but have a support system trying to get me help ☺️ so we keep chugging! Still won’t be super active here but I LOVE answering these asks 💕

And THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE VALIDATION ❤️?! Like I am so incredibly happy people enjoy my ranting and want to hear/value my opinion, it’s wild and super enjoyable.

Still considering just posting my whole current Kumoko Headcanon (I have expanded some points from previous Kyouya/Wrath one too haha) but it’s suuuper long and I am CONSTANTLY adding too it. Let me know if anyone is interested.

Kyouya is def my fav so I have waaay more for him but I do have some for Katia and Shun (probably more on Shun just cause we get more from his perspective in the Novel)! As a massive Shipper again most of them revolve around my OT3 (I have no shame there haha).

Heads up for Spoiler Warning (I think I give mostly vague Spoiler for the entire series but except the Kumoko/Wakaba thing is directly said).

(Again I’m ripping this from my KumoDesu Fanfic ideas Doc so if some of the wording is wonky that’s why because it’s older and I write this just to get my thoughts down).

Trans Katia: Update: 16 novels we get two chapters from Katia’s perspective but I think there is one or two more shorts from her perspective in the Ex-Ex2. Okay so far in all 12 novels we get one (1) chapter from Katia’s perspective so there’s not a lot to go off but Katia was definitely closeted/uncracked egg Trans Girl in her past life fight me. Cracking the egg/getting outed via isekai lol. Out of roughly 30 reincarnations Katia is is the only one that switched gender and it’s explained (aside from Oka which D did just to cause trouble) the system puts them in bodies that best fit their soul this being why some characters reincarnated as not humans and why Katia is a girl. So the only characters who changed gender or race are Katia, Fei, Sophia, Kyouya, and Oka who doesn’t count in this. Shiro was always a spider thus why she is a spider. Kyouya deeply agreed with the Goblin’s mentalities and morals. We see later that Fei’s personality and morals really fits with the dragon's code of conduct. Sophia being a vampire isn’t super explained and more how people viewed her. So like failing in line Katia must be a Trans Woman basically.

Katia Anxiety: I think Katia is very protective of her boys. It’s kinda obvious when she meets Shun again and then when they get in dangerous situations. She’s so scared of losing the people she cares about (I think she’s often the most aware of how different and how dangerous the fantasy world is compared to their previous lives). I think the realization Kyouya probably isn’t on their side (because of how Oka kept avoiding the topic) probably hurt her a lot, because she doesn’t want to abandon him but also is too scared about losing Shun as it is (and I feel like when she puts everything together after the fact she feels super guilty for not pressing more). It kinda seemed she really didn’t have many people she was close to in her past life and the fact that Shun (and I’m gonna Headcanon here later Kyouya) still accept her despite everything that’s “different” (cough cough eye cracked) is huge to her. I’m glad in the Novel Shun always does a very good job conveying how much he appreciates, relays on, and trusts her because god she needs it.

Shun and Julius: The fun part about Shun as a Character is he is painfully aware how much of an NPC he is and that he doesn’t fit the role of Hero. Which is why I think he looks up to Julius so much and later on tries to emulate him. He quite frankly knows he has NO IDEA what he is doing and wants to be as level headed and smart as Julius. I think that his idol-like obsession with Julius comes from his own insecurities.

Shun, Katia, and Kyouya are Weird (aka Poly):“They're weird about each other” is one of my favorite Shipping reasons because it’s so true. I mean Shun and Katia are pretty solid in Canon and I would say I’m just adding Kyouya to it to make it an OT3 but also once I see it I can’t unsee it. Just the fact that all 3 of them single out their “Friendship” as something special. I don’t think Katia super had other friends in her past life (being an uncracked egg will make that hard) but Shun and Kyouya did and they never really mention it. Shun was peak NPC and was not super close but friendly to most of the guys but he NEVER mentions it until running into them again (apparently he was on a soccer team and just, never thought it was important or that big a deal). And it’s Shiro who mentions it seems like Kyouya and Shinobu were friends in their past life, Kyouya barely mentions it even after seeing him again. Just the “you're weird about each other” being a way of saying “that’s a little more than a friendship I think” basically.

Polyamorous not having Legal Marriage: So at the end of Volume 16 they mention that nothing is know about Shun’s love life, which might mean he never legally married. Now I like think Shun and Katia legally married and then Kyouya is their lover (they have a non-legal marriage for the 3 of them in private). But I am just saying this can support my Ship because Polyamory isn’t really that accepted publicly so they keep it secret (open secret among their friends though). It’s sort of an AU but I’m just saying.

Shun Salaryman: So it says at the end of Vol 16 Shun goes back to help his Brother and all I can think is he’s finally becomes a Salaryman. Imagine he helps with all the paperwork instead of decision making. And he’s really good at it to the point of everyone’s surprise. He finally realized JUST how lost he was trying to be a Hero (he always sort of knew but now that he’s found his calling it’s super obvious to everyone else as well).

Shun’s Accidental Rizz: So we see that Shun is always ridiculous earnest about his feelings and has no qualms expressing his appreciation (we see this most to Katia early on where he always thanks her for helping him). So I like to think for my OT3 he accidentally says the most romantic shit to Katia and Kyouya all the time unprompted because he’s just being honest about it (Kyouya Bluescreens because he’s so unused to verbal affection (he likes it he’s just used to the Demon Army’s brand of nonverbal love) and Katia goes Tsundere Mode when flustered).

Shun Perception Check: Shun is both really perceptive and an idiot at the same time. So he is able to perceive all sorts of little subtle tells that others can’t but at the same time has no idea how to process what they actually mean.

Shun: Shun is an Emotional Support Dumbass. And anyone who hates him (usually people who only saw his botched Anime version) can meet me in the pit. I also think his general easy going-ness probably helped both Katia and Kyouya a lot in their past lives (because it seemed like neither of them had the easiest home life’s and then they have it rough again after being reincarnated rip).

And that’s all I have at the moment! I’m always adding more though haha. Feel free to keep sending KumoDesu Asks I love them!

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

This is an internet anthology. I am acting:

…

…

…

Looking back at my childhood and all the traumatic things that happened made me realize just how depressive my mom was. She smiled and laughed and said she was “happy,” sure… but I never saw her smile or laugh unless it was in front of other people; but behind closed doors, with just the two of us the mask came off. I was the only one who was allowed to see who she really was behind the disguise. She cried all the time. I could hear her through the walls at night when I went to sleep. Everything, everything was for show. She liked to make others think she had joy but she didn’t. She didn’t because she couldn’t feel it. Her depression was a crushing weight on the entire house and she made it everyone’s problem. All she wanted to do was feel worse and feed off of me so I could stay and listen to her rants forever in a vicious, codependent cycle. I didn’t know until now what the term for that was. Truly, discovering this community of people who were abused by depressive parents was a blessing. It helped me come to my senses and realize I was not the issue; it was her all along. Knowledge is power, everyone. ❤️

…

hiya could anyone give me advice pls its urgent

so i (16m) met this guy (17m) who ill call M in my economics class. we chatted for a little, he was suuuuper sweet and charming and we really had some kinda gay chemistry going on iykwim? so we went on a date at this cute Italian restaurant and the guy gives us our breadsticks. M just……. stared????? at them like stared at the breadsticks without even saying thank you and he looked kinda souless and it was fucking freaky but i ignored it because maybe he was just tired yk? we study alot so its not like super unrealistic to think that but now im starting to think it was a sign he wasnt right in the head. later on we hugged and kissed and he told me he loved me so my doubts went away cuz love and happiness go together. basically i wasnt worried anymore, were both happy right?

well after exchanging numbers to keep in touch i called him about five times and he never called me. its like i put in all the effort so i called him out for ignoring me and he apologized

anyways we made up and went on a 2nd date which was his idea. because i am sixteen i got my license after doing drivers ed, obvs i was really proud of it so i told him and he smiled saying he was happy for me but something was wrong. he was smiling but his eyes looked dead and it reminded me of that one tiktok about how depressives have dead eyes when they smile because they cant actually feel happy not even for other ppl. it was really creepy how he just lied to my face like that. he still never calls me, i always have to call him. its like he doesn’t care about life at all

any tips on how to politely get out of the relationship? thx

…

4 Signs Your Lover is a K!lljoy

1.) The eyes

Do you surprise your lover with gifts and acts of service, but they seem less than enthusiastic? Do they say they’re happy for you, but something in their face tells you they’re not? Do they never seem to truly enjoy anything in life? Then blame the uncanny valley. Science shows that true, joyful smiles cause the corners of your eyes to crinkle. Since k!lljoys are completely incapable of feeling happiness, it makes sense that they don’t know how to smile without giving off some bad vibes in the process.

2.) They’re lazy

Some of the traits used to diagnose Major Depressive Disorder in the DSM-5 are: lack of motivation, excessive sleeping, and lethargy. These traits inherent to depression make k!lljoys far less productive than most normal people, so of course they expect others to do everything for them, because they care more about themselves than they do other people. Do you constantly find yourself doing all the household chores while your spouse vegetates on the couch? Do they say they’re too “tired” to do things when you know they’ve done nothing to make them tired? Chances are, your partner is depressive.

3.) They hate people

Lack of joy is highly correlated with social withdrawal. K!lljoys dislike parties and always hide in corners or bathrooms if they’re forced to go to one. They also never call you, you have to call them. You have to do all the work to maintain the relationship.

Low-functioning killjoys may lie in bed all day miserably, but high-functioning killjoys can blend in, and may even be more talkative so they can vent their problems to everyone. They do this so everyone else can feel as unhappy as they do. As the saying goes, misery loves company.

4.) They want to k!ll themselves

It’s in the name. K!lljoys may not say it outright, but they may joke about d34th or unaliving themselves at minor inconveniences. This is not normal behavior, and actually a sign of a severe case of depression.

This may be done for two reasons. The first is to guilt you to stay in the relationship because they’re afraid of being abandoned by their stress ball. You can tell if mentions of sewerslide are meant to guilt you if they are often followed by common manipulative phrases such as “you’re my reason for living” or “I’ll never leave you.” Or k1lljoys may be genuine about their desire to d*e, so that they can pass their sadness onto others while they are relieved of it, as a sort of twisted revenge.

You may feel guilty about leaving them or putting them in danger of carrying through with sewerslide, but remember: sewerslide is the ultimate act of selfishness. You are doing the right thing by leaving them because they are toxic and will only harm you, no matter how good it feels to love them. They don’t love you back. A k1lljoy cannot love you back.

…

hot take but if you’re so sad you cant even take care of yourself without leeching off people and hurting them then you should be sterilized so you don’t pass those genes onto your children and cause more suffering than you already have lol

#killjoy parents #depressive abuse #thanks for making me into a monster like you dad /s #depressives dni #i needed you dad I really really did and then you fucking shot yourself #and it didn’t even work so now you’re brain dead in a home #i hope no one else cares for you and gets hurt for it

…

So it’s come to my attention that there is a common misconception that depressives cannot feel joy. True, some of them don’t; but some of them do. What gives them joy? What most people find makes them happy: being treated like human beings and not like a they have evil suicide cootieshope this helps 🥰

#actually depressive #actual killjoy #you guys realize how eugenicist it is to demand depressed people be sterilized right? #we cannot control how much joy we feel #what we get is what we get and that doesn’t make us evil

…

hot take: being able to feel happy does not make you a good person

you can feel joy because you hurt people and you can use motivation to do bad things. you don’t need love to be a good person either. you can simply exist and not do bad things

#actually depressive #depressive abuse believers dni #imagine morals being based on emotions and not actions pfft

…

#imagine morals being based on emotions and not actions pfft

Imagine abusers wanting sympathy from the abused

Don’t act like you aren’t always negative about everything and try to level the emotional playing field so that everyone suffers don’t act like you haven’t been a burden to everyone you touch don’t act like you don’t post pictures of your bleeding cuts for minors to see and imitate dont act like you don’t romanticize your sick disorder to take others down with you don’t act like you don’t purposefully ignore your friends and loved ones for the sake of your alone time don’t act like you don’t drink to drown the sadness and become violent to your families don’t act like you aren’t cut from the same cloth as people who become terrorists and blow themselves up to kill many others

THOSE ARE ACTIONS

#depressives fuck off #depressives kill yourselves challenge #oh wait

…

I want to die so the ones who never held me close to their hearts may carry my coffin on their shoulders and tuck me into the ground like a down bed

#killjoy #sad bitch #its sad girl hours #depressive #sad girl aesthetic #coquette #tw sui ment #girlsandboywhocry #spilledink

…

yo i think my mom is a killjoy

#explains a lot tbh #never gets out and is unhealthily attached to me #the whole dead eyes thing

…

anyone ever stop to think that maybe the depression that I am experiencing in my own brain is making me suffer more than you are for dealing with my reaction to suffering all the time lol

#actually depressive #k*lljoy is a slur btw idk why you armchair diagnose people with “lazy asshole” #instead of maybe considering it’s just hard for us to do things #and interact with the world without feeling joy. Since when do we consider someone’s inability to do something as a moral failing?

…

[mywrittenavenue]

Some backstory/ trauma-rant.

My life has been nothing short of hard. I've had depression and existential crises since I was 6. My parents got divorced when I was 7. I have had severe anxiety and exiting-ideation since middle school. Chronic illnesses appeared in high school to the point where I had to drop out of school... But the worst was when I realized my mom, dad, and family members were narcissistic and toxic people when I was in college.

When I graduated, I cut off contact with my dad because I couldn't handle him anymore. He was getting too sexist despite having 4 daughters, too conservative, and he was always horribly absent. He would only come over when it suited him and he would make me and my sister wait for hours past when he would promise to pick us up. He liked to present me like a doll to his side of the family and keep up the charade of being a good father. He was glad to have my sister and I go home to mom immediately afterwards, and would cut contact for months until it suited him again. Interacting with him was like a play. I would smile, listen, be the good daughter, and wait until the show was over. He would only ever talk about himself and he ignored all my interests. He hated buying anything for us. I later found out all my past Christmas and birthday gifts were actually from my Abuela's money and that he refused to ever buy me anything. He would complain about buying me cheap thrifted clothes. He only ever would spend enough for us to have pizza. I was so tired of it, of him, the dance of us both. The dance was worse when he married my mean stepmom (after only a year after my parents divorced mind you) who hated me because, in her words to my pre-tween self, my mom was a "gold digging b*tch".

Speaking of her, my mom is very mentally ill due to her narcissism and bipolar behavior. She's currently in a religious cult and wants to drag me into it, furthering my trauma into religious trauma on top of everything else. She is the one who has caused the most mentally damaging behavior to me. She and her cult leader caused the death of my beloved pet bird who was like my own child. When my bird died I went into a spiral and had a nervous breakdown that I still havent recovered from years later. I don't feel like myself after my breakdown, I feel like an alien living in my skin, or a monster, an imposter. People no longer like me, no longer like talking to me because I come off weird now, as if I'm a creature mimicking a human. I used to be sociable, people used to like me, and now, compounded with the awkwardness I developed during quarantine, I can't be normal anymore.

I don't have a physical support system. I have about 3 friends and they are all virtual friends who can't speak to me often for various reasons. I love them a lot and I deeply appreciate their friendship but I don't really have anyone here when I need them. I don't really have anyone to talk to when I desperately need someone. I don't have a therapist due to cost and every therapist I have tried (with the exception of one) has further traumatized me. The first from elementary school until middle school would stare at me like a robot and only write things down. She never cared to connect to me, even though I was a deeply hurting child. The second when I was a teen/newly aged adult, ghosted me on our first meeting and made excuses. I never got to see her ever. The third after hearing all about my abuse and trauma told me that my mom was in the right to abuse me. She then abandoned me callously when she moved to another practice and ghosted me. The fourth was an amazing person who helped me feel better about myself, helped me understand the abuse was not my fault. But my growth stagnated and we both agreed I needed further trauma counseling with a different therapist who could provide better so we mutually parted. The fifth was an online therapist since I couldn't afford regular therapy. When telling her about my pharmacaphobia, she proceeded to tell me the story of herself almost dying due to medical issues and then smiled when I told her I was scared and uncomfortable. I cut contact with her on the same day.

My most recent trauma was college. My mom had forced me to change my major, and while I did learn a lot in design, I was also miserable. All my classmates avoided me. I would try to strike up a conversation and was always doing my best to be friendly, approachable, and I always helped out and did my all in everything. I would put in so much effort to people please, but in the end they ostracized me. I remember one occasion in which I was absent due to chronic illness on a day when the class was supposed to pick group partners. My professor was angry at me and told me it was my fault for missing class and she told me to beg my classmates to join their groups and that nobody in the class was obligated to be my partner. I tried to join one group, they proceeded to accept me and then later when they felt they had too many members, kicked me out. I asked another group who said yes and then they all left the classroom without telling me on purpose. I begged another group and they reluctantly let me in after another member didn't show up. I cried in the bathroom after class, I felt so bullied and alone. Later on after we graduated, the only classmate who spoke to me told me that I needed to socialize better and that I was always to myself. The thing is that every time I tried to talk to people in class, they always iced me out or ghosted me. It took me a year after graduating to kind of recover, which is where I'm at right now. I still have some lingering issues. I could never understand what was wrong, although I think that I'm probably neurodivergent, a mixture of Autism and ADHD, or just neurodivergent from having CPTSD mess up my brain.

As of right now as a person who just graduated last year, I'm struggling so hard to even apply for jobs due to the intense CPTSD and trauma I have. I get panic attacks with every application I work on. Interviews are also the worst, I blank out and I panic because I'm being looked at with scrutiny. My very first interviewer was really confrontational and aggressive when I had let her know that files were missing from the assigment she had sent me. She was telling me I was a liar, even though I truly didn't have them. It was my dream to work at that publishing company to design book covers/ book ads and now it was ruined for me. Right now my plan is to find part time jobs until I gain the confidence to go for bigger design jobs. But I really just need money so I can save up and leave my house because my mom has been getting more and more controlling and religious and angry. She hates me. She thinks I am my father, thinks that because I'm struggling with life that I'm being lazy and ungrateful. When she comes home my stomach hurts so bad due to stress. She makes me feel like I'm losing my sanity due to how she gaslights and twists my words.

I dont know what I want from writing all this out but, here it is. My life story.

[sonder-moon]

thinking..

sorta rant about aroace-ness under the cut i just needed to write out

been feeling very isolated as of late on account of the aromanticism and the asexuality. when i first knew i was ace, i was never really as strict with the boundaries as i probably should have been. i was a young teenager and ive never shied away from the topic of sex. it never really bothered me and i never understood the pressure and urges people around me might be feeling. i was fine with people telling me about great romantic relationships are. but i never told anyone i was asexual because come on. who among my peers who wasnt also on tumblr would know what that meant. typical awkward ace kid stuff. the problem is by the time i started telling people i was ace, the aro hadn't set in yet. i knew one nearly 10 years before i knew the other.

skip ahead to years later when i first knew i was aro (only about a year ago). now this was crazy. i started realizing i had way more to unpack and more boundaries to set. suddenly, i felt more aware of and repulsed by the romance around me. i felt more opinionated on the topic of sex. i wanted to stop humoring peers who told me i should start dating. i felt more annoyed at the idea that people might still think i had a desire for these things. but how could i tell them that? id had feelings i thought were crushes before. i loved and still love romance in movies. ive written and read sappy fanfiction for a long time. i like the concepts of love and sex in fiction, but not reality, and it's far too difficult to explain to most people that reality and fiction paint them in different lights. i think i see the entire concepts of sexual attraction and romance in such a wildly different way than everyone else in my life, and i know i can't put it into words for anyone but myself. that's probably why im feeling so isolated. i have no one to turn to for actual understanding (other than the internet). the term "romance repulsed" sounds too harsh to say to my friends who are in happy relationships. even in fandom, to headcannon a fictional character as aroace is seen as like the worst injustice you can do to them. what with all the shock towards the idea of "No Romance" that ive internalized for so long, it's no wonder i sometimes feel less like a person and more like an emotionless robot.

i never want to date anyone. i never want to get married. i never want to have sex. i can say it to the void on tumblr all i want, but saying those things in rapid succession to an allo will make their brain short circuit, make them look at me like i have three heads, or make them immediately try to change my mind about it. why those notions are so threatening and alien to them, ill never know. i just know ill never be truly understood in real life, and i have to come to terms with that. it's just that it's so horribly lonely, and for my own sanity, i have to keep quiet about it, because if i never tell anyone about this part of me, then i guess i cant get mad when they don't know.

i do LOVE being aroace. it's freeing and fun. i just have this far-fetched and crazy wish to be accepted without people adding terms and conditions onto me. i want to hear "you're not interested in sex or romance? ever? cool, i believe you." not "i cant figure out how your mind works, so im going to tell you you should try to be less confusing for people."

anyways. im not going to stop being so confusing. but i probably wont be telling everyody i know to stop talking about romance to me either. it's just not realistic. but at least i know myself and i know i can do whatever i want forever. i just want people to be normal about aroace people.

[fluffycloudhead]

Me ranting about some memories that came up

Tw: injuries, chronic illness, neglect, sexism, fatphobia

:readmore:

I just saw a poll about falling down stairs and it reminded me about the time I fell down the stairs in elementary school.

I slipped weirdly, fell down some steps only, but I landed with my back on an edge and it hurt so much.

I was in pain, started crying, couldn't move, but no one helped me. The people nearby just stood and watched. No said anything, there was just me sobbing. I couldn't speak.

And then 8 year old me forced herself to get up under a lot of pain. No teacher did anything. No fellow student.

I could barely move without being in pain for weeks. No one cared. Not my grandparents. Not my teachers. I was forced to do sports classes although I was in immense pain.

I was the chubby kid. The teacher didn't believe me, she thought I just wanted to skip classes because fat kids hate sports.

And I think that's when I started to learn and internalise that I couldn't count on anyone. That my pain is not bad enough and I should just be tougher.

Things like that had happened before. One day I was playing with my brother on a playground and fell weirdly on my arm. It hurt so bad. I was told to stop crying. In the evening it still hurt. I was told to stop crying again. I cried the whole night. My grandma took me to the doctor. I remember my grandad telling her not to give me so much attention over this.

My arm was strained (I think it's the right word) and I got some bandages to fixate it and pain medication.

As a teen I would start to suffer from "colds" a lot, even in summer. I'd sneeze and cough through every night.

No one cared. I was just the girl who - unlike my brother - got sick easily. My breathing started to become harder some nights. Doctors told me to do more sports and work out, I was too chubby. Grandparents ignored me and gave me coughing syrup.

I ended up in a hospital one day because of an severe asthma attack that almost suffocated me. And my grandparents only took me to the hospital after talking to a general practitioner and my aunt begging them to actually do something.

I had developed an allergic asthma over months and years. And one cared. I got an inhaler for the attacks afterwards.

These days I reflected on my celiacs diagnosis I got last year. Now that I am living mostly gluten free a lot of my regular stomach issues are gone. Stomach issues I had since elementary school. Issues that were also ignored. Either because I was a girl looking for attention or just the fat girl that probably just ate too much.

I am so used to my issues not being taking seriously. I even have an incredible hard time taking my issues seriously.

I have so much more stories like these. I've been used to injuries and illness being ignored.

My brother (twin) was treated the exact opposite way. My grandpa would take him to the doctor for every so small problem. He'd get help and medicine for everything.

Because if a "man" (or in this case "boy") is complaining he must have an actual problem. Not like a whiny weak girl that cries over every little discomfort. My grandfather was a rascist piece of shit.

My mother ignored me, too, when I moved in with her later. But she also ignored my brother. She didn't care for either of us.

I don't know where I am going with this. I am just sad and still angry.

And... Friends, listen to your bodies. Answer your pains. Don't ignore the issues. You're worth it.

If I never got to hear that myself, I wanna make sure you heard it.

You're worth to be cared about. You're allowed to take care of your needs and treat your pains and illnesses. You don't have to toughen up. You're allowed to rest. If you can, talk to a doctor about your health issues. It doesn't matter if you're male or female or something different. It doesn't matter if you're fat.

You matter.

[azure7539arts]

(Sorry, I hope it's okay to reblog your post. Originally, I just wanted to do a short reply, but I don't think that's plausible. Below is just my really long rant about this, but it's purely just my own opinions on the matter.)

First of all, to clarify, the (rough) literal translation of what Nian Baiyu told Tantai Jin when they were both on that cliff is, "Your Majesty, you clearly know what Second Young Miss want to do. Why did you still let her and Xiao Lin go to reunite with Sheng Kingdom's remnants before acting?" It's not too different from the free translation they offered, but this renders the overall sentence more vague, which lends more room to interpret and understand the overall situation.

In my opinion, there are a few reasons why Tantai Jin genuinely thought Ye Xiwu wanted to run away/elope with Xiao Lin, despite what he might or might not have overheard (we don't know the full extent of what he actually did hear).

He had previously witnessed Ye Xiwu lie/downplay things and scheme before, both as her original self and after Li Susu had transmigrated into her body.

He reasonably understood who both Xiao Lin and Ye Xiwu were as people.

His own mistrust in Ye Xiwu and the feelings that she might or might not hold for him.

(3) is self-explanatory, so I won't be going into details about that.

(1) and (2) are compounded reasons, I believe. Tantai Jin, despite his previous lack of emotions, had always been rather (relatively) perceptive in his understanding of people. He observed a lot and analyzed a lot. ("I understand. I understand all of it. I just can't feel it.") Which is understandable because being able to read a person used to be one of his only tools of survival. Such a skill allowed him to mimic Xiao Lin and reach quite a decent understanding of who Xiao Lin was as a person: upstanding, righteous, and considerate—a textbook 君子 (roughly, gentleman), one can say. Xiao Lin, by nature, was not someone who would tolerate anyone doing anything he considered to be "evil" or "unjust." This was the main reason why Xiao Lin used to despise the original Ye Xiwu, because she had been someone vicious and vindictive to a fault in his eyes, on top of also taking pleasure in the suffering of others. (This is not to say that Tantai Jin's understanding of these people had no flaws, but it would not be amiss either to say that he had a pretty good grasp on their baselines, so to speak.)

Tantai Jin used to be able to understand Ye Xiwu as well, up until everything had gotten messed up due to Li Susu's arrival. Li Susu and Ye Xiwu's contrasting personalities had thrown him into a loop, as manifested through his many moments of confusion over her behavior, but later, he most likely had chalked this up to her having changed/grown up as a person and had turned over a new leaf (something which her own family members also had believed to have been the case) and had considered both of these versions to be one and the same (this is important). However, they had three fights with escalating levels during this time as well, with the third one being the poisoning/stabbing incident, and each one of them ultimately served their intended purpose for Tantai Jin (aside from outlining the problems in this relationship).

The first, beginner level one had been their interaction leading up to, during, and after the ship scene, especially the fight they had when she'd rescued him from the riverbank and they'd been squabbling over the death of Jin Lan'an in that hut. This whole thing had informed him that not only was Ye Xiwu extremely reckless, but she also hadn't gotten over the ill-will she had harbored for him and had not forgotten her words about wanting to kill him either. The second, intermediate level one had been their subsequent fight after Ye Xiwu had gone to Xiao Lin's camp behind his back, which had signaled to him that she might yet still be in contact with Xiao Lin, ultimately reminding him of the intense feelings she had once had for the Sixth Prince of Sheng Kingdom. This was something that they never addressed fully, even after they had resolved this fight. But afterward, things had been good for a while—better than ever, even—and it had given him hopes that even if he hadn't asked about it, Ye Xiwu herself must've moved on from it... Until Congee Gate happened, our very own S-level couple fighting of epic proportion. Congee Gate really compounded both previous problems that neither of them had actually worked out that well because they had no proper couple-counseling RIP and turned that shit to the max. The existence of Congee Gate alone had reminded Tantai Jin that: one, Ye Xiwu had literally stated (to Xiao Lin, no less) that she, out of everyone, had hated Tantai Jin the most and had even wanted to kill him even in her dream; and two, Ye Xiwu had once been deeply, obsessively in love with Xiao Lin as well, just barely a year ago.

This, then, rounds back to Xiao Lin and Tantai Jin's understanding of Xiao Lin. Xiao Lin was a good and moral person. Their battle in Tantai Jin's palace had confirmed to Tantai Jin that, really, Xiao Lin had long since accepted the reality that Tantai Jin had become the one true ruling monarch, even over the no-longer existing Sheng Kingdom. For this reason, and for the sake of hard-earned peace, Xiao Lin had silently admitted that, despite the "assassination" attempt, he had no intention of killing Tantai Jin whatsoever, lest everything is plunged into chaos once more. Therefore, it might have made sense to Tantai Jin, in a way, that Ye Xiwu would lie and downplay the severity of Congee Gate to Xiao Lin for the time being. They had previously met in prison where Nian Baiyu had run back to inform Tantai Jin that, during Ye Xiwu and Xiao Lin's little discussion, Xiao Lin had turn away from Ye Xiwu, prompting her to yank him back, before Xiao Lin had eventually put his hand on her face, for some reason. Tantai Jin had no way to know or verify what they had actually talked to one another, but it wouldn't be a stretch for him to presume that they might have tried talking out their plan of escape. Xiao Lin might have disapproved of any plan of actually harming Tantai Jin, but because Ye Xiwu had always been cruel and vindictive (the original version) and had said that she had always hated him the most out of everyone and had wanted to kill him (the Li Susu version). And so she might have gotten reckless and chosen the strongest thing she could get her hands on: mylabris. This, in my opinion, isn't too unreasonable of a line of thought for him, considering that the whole reason why he and Ye Xiwu had been married in Sheng Kingdom at all had been due to the fact that Ye Xiwu had been very reckless and had chosen to poison her own half sister with aphrodisiac—just to get back at her sister and to be closer to Xiao Lin. The only difference now would be that Ye Xiwu now wanted to get back at Tantai Jin instead, while also fulfilling her ultimate goal of getting closer to Xiao Lin.

But, unfortunately for her (he must've thought), Tantai Jin hadn't actually fallen for it. So, to him, it hadn't mattered that Ye Xiwu had kept repeating that she had wanted to return to his side to Xiao Lin, because she might have been downplaying/outright lying about the situation so that Xiao Lin wouldn't have been upset at her for doing such a thing. It wasn't as if she hadn't downplayed or lied about something before to make the situation appear more tolerable to whomever she had been lying to. The most prominent one that Tantai Jin himself had witnessed had been when she had lied to Ye Qingyu about having been there with Tantai Jin throughout the whole wedding procession at Xiao Lin's manor, thus exonerating him from Ye Qingyu's suspicion. On top of this, at the time, she had also downplayed the fact that Tantai Jin himself had been the one who had demanded to learn talisman drawing from her, making it seem like she had dragged him into this instead, just so that Ye Qingyu would stop his line of questioning.

So yes, this is just a round about way of saying that: Tantai Jin thought Ye Xiwu was running away with Xiao Lin because he had assumed that she must've been lying to Xiao Lin about what she had actually done to Tantai Jin. He'd assumed that she'd opted to omit some key facts now so that, by the time they had reunited with the remnants of Sheng and the news about Tantai Jin's death had broken out, Xiao Lin wouldn't have time to be mad at her anyway because, by then, he would've been busy with fighting to become the ruling power over both Sheng and Jing Kingdom. Then, once all had been said and done, and Xiao Lin had become king, it would even seem like Ye Xiwu had made a great contribution to her country and to Xiao Lin's cause.

This, in a way, explains why Nian Baiyu had asked that question up on the cliff: they were operating under the assumption that Ye Xiwu had tried to lethally poison Tantai Jin in an attempt to give Xiao Lin a real chance at uprising and usurping the throne. Hence why Nian Baiyu had been confused about why Tantai Jin had waited until Ye Xiwu and Xiao Lin had reunited with the opposition to make his move, when he could've easily saved himself the trouble and apprehended them on their way to the rendezvous point to quickly thwart a potential revolt in the making.

Well, in my opinion anyway lol Nearly 20 episodes were cut, and we would never know what they originally intended to do with it, or if this line of writing is purely just questionable anyway and I'm just out here mental cartwheeling too hard XD But then I love this show too much, and so I'm willing to give it a pass with this one, considering that, once you line everything up, it does make sense, even if it feels convoluted. But then again, since when has anything ever been simple with Tantai Jin anyway lol

Okay, wait. When Li Susu is escaping with Xiao Lin, she says, "I have to go back. I haven't accomplished my mission. I have to return to his side. But you're right. Tantai Jin will be infuriated if I return now. I will lay low for a while. I'll head back once he cools off. So, where are we heading now?" And Xiao Lin answers, "The south."

And then it cuts to Tantai Jin in his palace, and he repeats, "The south? Do you two intend to leave the Jing Kingdom together?"

But, like, he started doing his voodoo doll thing before that whole conversation between Li Susu and Xiao Lin took place. So he must have heard the whole thing, right? So he must have heard Li Susu say three times that she was going to go back to Tantai Jin's side. So why did he think she was running away with Xiao Lin???

(Later, Nian Baiyu says, "Your majesty, you clearly knew what Miss Xiwu's goal was. Why did you make her stab Xiao Lin?" Tantai Jin then explains that he wants Ye Xiwu to be so hated that she'll have nowhere to go but under his protection. That makes sense. He's so insecure about her feelings for him that he needs to have absolute control over her because he doesn't trust that she'll come back a few days later every time she leaves, so he can't ever let her leave for a few days again, even though she's planning to come back this time. But it still doesn't explain his line from earlier!)

[skybristle]

Please rant about why you didn't like how chapter 14 characterized Caramel arrow. I may not have gotten to it because I'm still stuck in chapter 11 but I'd love to hear it.

pls rb!! i put a lot of thought and effort into these posts!

was talking to a friend. this is a. Horrid mash of copy/pasted stuff from discord dms paired with me typing in new shit to bridge gaps and add points but. under cut again! probably some talk abt murder and violence [but its against affo mainly so its okay /JOKE] but mainly to save space on dashes since i type a lot also note that i tend to call caramel arrow carrow. it just rolls off my mental tounge better and its easier to speedrun typing in my fanon i've also added magnolia into her story but. for the sake of arguement i'll leave her and any magnolia-related changes out. but yeah they canonically kiss devsis told me /lh ill add more if i think of anything

shes a static character. NOTE. static characters are NOT inherently bad. but she has so much potential for being fucked up and questioning her loyalties and shit. as she stands she is just. There. she does a little bit of girlbossing but ESPECIALLy in chapter 14 she is just there to go its okay dark cacao ur doing the right thing it is alright u are okay :] and she doesnt even get resolution with affo. iirc they dont even rlly get a confrontation he just. Runs away. these r my main problems but ill get into a lot of wasted potential later. ill be so mad forever and ever they didn't let carrow kill affogato. like. she had a straight shot in the end when his sheilds were down and he was just trying to get away. ut she just goes "OHHH NO AFFOGATO IS GETTING AWAYYYYY" like babygirl you are the first watcher. What are you doing. i get that cr doesnt have the balls to violently kill him on screen but like u could have shot him and left him for dead at least. Like. .... idk. red velvet gets a crossbolt bolt to the face in TOSC its not too out there. but even then carrow seems like the type to want to kill someone cleanly and effectively no matter WHAT they did so she doesnt stoop to their level. so as far as my fanon goes she shot him thru the head when he was trying to escape. like again i know canon wouldn't do that but it is dissapointing to see nothing happen with him and carrow's arc yet another injustice to carrow's character. shes just. There honestly. like she doesnt DO ANYTHING. shes kinda just [woman standing discord emoji] you could honestly remove her from the plot without much difference which is. REALLY FUCKING SAD considering that she was so hyped up and is playable. her only real character trait is 'loyal to dark cacao'. which falls flat considering DARK CACAO IS FUCKED UP?? like i know affo is manipulating him or whatever but he had to have been at an incredibly low point in the first place - likely caused by dark choco's betrayel and the stress of losing so much , including many of his watchers, to the war. the main missed potential i see: the missed potential with her and dark choco. it's heavily implied he was very very close with her - and her mentor. she even has a line abt him being the one who taught her how to use a bow. it's p easy to assume he's the person who trained her and could probably be considered her non-blood informal older brother or maybe an idol. [i prefer the former but. Yeah] have her loyalty be split between the king who deeply hurt his people for decades [since even before affo i doubt it was good considering i can only IMAGINE how fucked up the kingdom was afrer the DFW with their watchers presumaby spread incredibly thin after so many losses] and FUCKING EXILED HER regardless of affo's imput and the prince who trained and partially raised her but has done so much fucked up shit and lost his path

NEITHER of them are good people. at least completely. do they deserve her loyalty? is she reeally doing good by following anyone?? is bias by being close to the royals clouding her judgement? she can't answer those questions

but No. dark cacao good everyine else bad :3. so dissapointing this is becoming more of a stretch but this is more a thinly veiled excuse to talk abt my fanon because i make her character so much cooler and sexier but. Ya! also not to say she was probably a trainee or barely out of training when dark choco betrayed everyone when he was probably her older brother figure andddd probably got shoehorned into the position of first watcher too fast since dark cacao was in such deep paranoia after getting betrayed by his own son he couldn't trust anyone short of who was practically his own daughter but. Ya! would have fucked. her cutscene thing says she became the first watcher at an incredibly young age. u can assume in canon that just means that she was so capable she earned it so early on but like. You could ALSO take rlly fucked up implications from that if you wanted to. like. Yeah. also i dont have as thorough thoughts on this but. it's sad that we didnt see much of her relationship with the other watchers. its obvious that they miss her, care about her, and are still loyal to her. i've always thought it was a really interesting thing that despite her exile and presumably being stripped of her title they all still call her first watcher. resisting the urge to talk abt her and magnolia so i wont but like. scenes with the other watchers could have rlly helped this!!! oh also if you ship carrow x affogato get the fuck off this post i actually hate you fuck you fuck yo ufuck yuyou fuck you. Die. thats all i remember for now. Bye girl.

[nothere-notthere-nowhere]

Long Nights

Word Count: 1883

Genre: Fluff I guess? A little angst if you squint?

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Request:  Hi! How are you? I loved so much Oblivious and Your Wanda, they are both so amazing and I was wondering if I could request a fic? a romantic Wanda x femreader, something like Wanda recently joined the team and she doesn't like y/n because she thinks y/n goes clubbing too much with Bucky but the truth is that she was a winter soldier like him, so Bucky goes out with y/n at night to help her redeem herself and then Wanda finds out? Thank you so much and I love your writing!! - Anonymous

A/N: First request done! Thank you for reading and I hope this is what you wanted :)

“Long night?” Natasha smirked at your yawn, using two hands to hold her mug.

“Something like that,” you joked back, grabbing the freshly brewed coffee from her hand and taking a sip. You heard a light scoff and turned to see Wanda regarding you with an annoyed look in her eye.

“Sorry, did she make this for you?” You asked. You had a habit to just take things from the older redhead.

Instead of a response, Wanda rolled her eyes before making her way out of the kitchen.

“Did I do something?” You asked Natasha, who was still staring at the coffee you’d stolen from her. 

“I don’t know, she’s probably just filled with teen angst still.” Natasha grumbled, grabbing a new mug.

“C’mon, Tash, that’s not really fair.” You told her. “She just lost everything. And she’s not a teen.” 

“We’ve all lost everything, Y/N.” Natasha deadpans. “Twenty-two is basically a teenager, by the way.”

“Cut her some slack,” You laughed. “She’s probably still getting used to this place.”

“Whatever,” Natasha dismissed. “Steal my coffee again, and you’re gonna lose a finger.”

“You say that every time.” You laugh.

---------

“Buck, you ready to go?” You asked him, walking out to the common area. You were dressed in your signature black leather jacket and ripped up skinny jeans. Your staple, in a sense.

“Yeah, let me grab a jacket.” He clapped you on the back as he walked past.

“You’re going out again?” Wanda’s voice nearly startled you. She was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed.

“Uh, yeah?” Your response came out as more of a question.

“Figures.” She rolled her eyes, turning to head back in the direction of her room.

“Okay, why is she so upset with me?” You ask Bucky when after she leaves.

“How should I know?” He laughs. “Come on, we better go.”

It was a long night, trying to make amends for all of your crimes was difficult. Bucky understood, he’d been through pretty much the same thing. But that didn’t make it any easier for you to relive the awful things you’d done to people. 

Especially when you arrived at the house of a frail old woman, who’s only son you’d ruthlessly murdered. He was her caretaker. So, Bucky helped you to do small things for her, paying for a nurse and grocery shopping. But tonight, the nurse looked at you with sadness in her eyes. 

“She doesn’t have much time left.” She told you. “She keeps asking for him. I don’t know what to tell her anymore.”

The poor old woman had a multitude of illnesses, the most prominent being her dementia. So, hearing the old woman calling out for her dead son…. You weren’t exactly sure what to do with yourself.

“It’s my fault, Buck.” Your voice broke on the walk back home. “He’s the one thing she can remember and he’s fucking dead because of me.”

Bucky knew better than to interrupt. You didn’t see reason in times like these.

“I’m a monster.” You continued. “No matter how many people I help, it can’t erase the past!”

“No, you can’t.” He told you, knocking you out of your rant. “You can’t erase the past. That’s why you’re trying to make up for it. Paying for an old woman’s healthcare won’t bring back her son, you’re right. But it counts for something.”

“I feel awful.” You tell him. “I can’t get them out of my head, sometimes. Does it ever go away?”

“I don’t know.” His somber tone reminds you that he, too, is struggling with this. 

“You can go back,” you clear your throat, “I’m going to take a walk.”

“You sure? It’s late.”

“Yeah, I won’t be long.”

Bucky squeezes your shoulder comfortingly before walking off in the direction of the tower. 

You’re not sure how much longer you were out. But eventually, the crisp air was drying the tears on your cheeks and you knew it was time to get back to the tower. There was no point wallowing in guilt in the middle of the city.

“Back so soon?” Wanda’s bitter words stopped you in your tracks. She was standing by the sink, glass of water in hand.

“Not-” Your voice cracked. “Not tonight, okay?”

Wanda’s face falls briefly, her mouth opening like she wanted to ask what was wrong. But you were out of the kitchen before she could speak.

-------

You rolled out of bed late the next morning, cursing under your breath as you searched for some clothes to throw on.

“You’re late,” Natasha walked into your room, extra coffee in hand.

“I’m aware.” You threw your hair up into a ponytail, throwing on running shorts while Nat lounged on your bed.

“Clint’s already waiting for you.” She informed, picking up a book from your bedside table.

“Better not keep him waiting then, huh?” You mutter, taking the mug of coffee as you made your way out of the room. 

“Bucky said you were out later than normal last night.” She said, giving you a pointed look.

“Natasha,” you warned. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her eyes are soft, face full of genuine concern.

“Yeah, Tash, I know.” You give her a small smile to soothe any worries.

“It’s about time you showed up!” Clint teased, tossing you a baton. Natasha squeezed your shoulder briefly before walking over to where Wanda was waiting for her on another mat. 

The morning passed slowly, Clint getting the better of you more than not. You were tired and slow. The older man teased you relentlessly, poking fun and putting you on your ass.

But, at some point, as you picked up your leg to kick Clint in the side, you forgot to hold back your strength, sending the blond man flying to the side.

“Oh my god!” You heard Wanda exclaim as you ran over to Clint.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry, Hawk,” you rushed out. “I wasn’t paying attention! I’ve just been so tired. Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m okay.” He chuckled, groaning a little as he moved to stand up. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, offering a hand to help him up.

“Yeah, kid, I’ve handled worse.” He limped off the mat, leaving you to roll your eyes at his term of endearment. You were easily fifty years older than the man, but you still looked to be in your early twenties, which Clint loved to call attention to.

You heard a light scoff and glanced over to see Wanda glaring in your direction.

“Okay, what’s up?” You ask her. The attitude was getting old.

“You’re lucky this was just training! What if this was a mission?” She all but exploded on you. “You value a night out at some shitty club with who knows how many girls more than the safety of your team!”

“Leave her alone, Maximoff.” Natasha cut in from nearby.

“Why should I?” Wanda spits. “She clearly doesn’t care about anyone but herself!”

Natasha steps between the two of you, the only thing stopping her from defending your honor being your hand on her shoulder and a gentle “Tasha” as you pull her away from the brunette.

“You’re right, Wanda.” You nod. “There’s no excuse for causing harm to a teammate. That’s on me.”

Wanda simply rolls her eyes bitterly and leaves, muttering something about checking on Clint.

“Why do you let her believe that?” Natasha asks, exasperated.

“She’s right, Tash, there’s no excuse for hurting a member of the team.” You tell her.

“There’s a reason you’re out so late most nights.” The shorter woman reminds you.

 “And Wanda doesn’t need to know.” You respond in the same tone. “Besides, she’s just being protective of Clint. You know how close they’ve gotten since Sokovia.”

Natasha just shook her head.

-------

“You’re seriously going out again?” Wanda’s jaw is clenched as she stands, arms crossed, by the door.

“Uh,” You stutter, “Yeah?”

“Unbelievable.” She storms off.

“She’s kinda cute when she's angry like that.” You joke with Bucky.

“You like her, don't you?” Bucky elbows you lightly.

“What?”

“That’s why you won’t tell her where you go.” He nods, putting it together in his head as he speaks. “You like her.”

“Hey, man, I don’t know about all that. She doesn’t like me though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You grab his arm to stop him as you walk on the sidewalk.

“Why else would she care so much about you going ‘clubbing?’ She’s jealous.” He tells you like it was obvious.

“You think so?”

--------

When the two of you return to the tower, Wanda approaches you. She’s fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lip in that cute way she does when she gets nervous. Bucky claps you on the back, wishing you a good night, though the look on his face says ‘good luck.’

“Can I talk to you?” Wanda asks.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You nod, expecting her attitude.

“Natasha told me.” She says.

“Fuck-” 

“I’m so sorry for judging you.” She cuts you off, her words rushed. “Even if you were out clubbing, it was none of my business. I just.. I was so angry that I was so drawn to this person who didn’t seem to care.” 

“You’re drawn to me?” You smirk at her.

 “Unfortunately.” She jokes. “Please tell me you got more out of that.”

“Yeah,” You laugh, “I’m sorry for not telling you. I just… If I’m honest, I didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

“Have you forgotten where I came from? I don’t think I have the right to think badly about anyone’s past.” 

“True,” you laugh again, “But I don’t want pity either, you know?” 

“I don’t pity you.” Wanda says, her hand resting on your arm. “I admire what you’re doing. The way you’re righting your wrongs.”

“It's the least I can do for the pain I caused these people.” You tell her, dropping the eye contact.

 “Well, it’s admirable.” 

“Back to this drawn to me thing-” you start.

“Absolutely not.” She pushes your shoulder gently, face burning as she does.

“You said it!” 

“And we’re not going to revisit it.” 

“I’m drawn to you too, if that helps.” Your hands find her waist, pulling her close to you. 

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it.” She remarks.

“We don’t have to.” You shrug, savoring the feeling of her hands on your shoulders, her touch light, almost hesitant.

“So what?” 

“So, if you're drawn to me, I’m drawn to you… I think we both know what we should do now that doesn’t involve any talking.”

Wanda’s breath hitches at your words, her face mere inches from your own. 

“And what would that be?” Her voice is quiet, eyes glancing at your lips.

“Well,” You start to lean in. “This whole drawing metaphor, I’ll go get some paper. You grab the pens.”

“You’re infuriating.” She giggles at your response. 

“You like it though.” You tell her, finally leaning in. Your lips catch hers and she all but melts under your touch. Her lips are soft, plump. You can faintly taste her chapstick. She pulls back after a moment, resting your foreheads together.

“You’re right.” She giggles. “I do like it.”

[princessofprocrastination]

Neglected (Dream)

MASTERLIST 

summary : it had became a habit that you’d show up at his house, but as time goes by, your efforts go to waste (angst) (fluff)

it didn’t matter if you were pretty busy or exhausted that day, you’d still show up at your boyfriend’s house no matter what. 

it used to be a ‘sometimes, only if you weren’t busy’ thing, just coming to make sure he has eaten, checking on sapnap as well and hanging out with them. but as the clock ticks, and your relationship prolonged, you seemed to always be at his house. 

sapnap never thought you were a bother. yeah, you asked. you didn’t want any of the two to feel uncomfortable at the fact that you were there often. but, sapnap reassured you that the both of them loved you being there. 

and also because you cooked for them all the time. 

being done with school for a while, you started working and starting your career, making you extremely busy, just like the two boys. sometimes, you don’t even show up until late. 

not that they were sleeping anyways. those two seemed to stay up late all the time. 

you enjoyed making food for them, trying new recipes, sending their plate of food to their rooms as they stream or are in a discord call with their friends. it made you happy seeing their eyes light up from seeing a hot and steaming plate of food delivered to them.

especially if it was homecooked. yum. 

but, as months go by, you start to notice a barrier between you and your boyfriend. now, you weren’t going to lie and say the both of you had been together for a long time, being long time partners, but you thought the honeymoon phase was going to last a little while longer. 

of course, you tried asking sapnap about it, texting him from time to time, making sure he didn’t get upset over a game or an argument online. 

nevertheless, sapnap himself didn’t know what was going on with his bestfriend. he thought dream was just doing fine, not knowing you felt that way. 

you told him not to worry about it, let alone talk to dream about it. you didn’t want it to be a big deal.

it wasn’t a big deal anyways, you just noticed the change of atmosphere. 

you still came over everyday, though. making food, making sure to make extra for leftovers just in case they woke up and got hungry and you weren’t there to make food. 

though it had become a routine at this point, the only person who seemed to appreciate it was sapnap. your boyfriend, however, seemed cold. 

“hey, i have food” you walked in the room after knocking at your boyfriend’s door. you had sent the other plate to sapnap’s just minutes ago. 

he barely gave you a glance, just only clicking the mute button after hearing you come in. that was how you knew he heard you. 

you set down the plate on his desk, where you had always made sure to clear out for him to eat while on his pc. you set down a cup right next to the plate with his drink, full. 

after which, you sat down on his bed, like you usually would to do some catching up on your laptop. usually it would be work since that was the only time you had during the day to finish it.

a couple hours later you finished you work and decided it was time to watch a couple youtube videos to reward yourself after a long day. 

you made sure you had on your airpods before watching anything so that it didn’t disrupt dream working. 

as you were watching the new mrbeast video, the one where he runs from a  bounty hunter, you start to catch a cold. 

not thinking of it, a small sneeze came out of you. and then another one came right after that. 

it was the type of sneeze that irritated the back of your throat, which usually meant that there was more sneezes to come and you were sure that you were falling ill. 

your eyes closed, as you tried to recover from your sneezes. you heard clicking from your boyfriend’s side. as you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting him to be staring at you. 

thinking he was going to say ‘bless you’, you gave him a small smile. that was until he shouted at you. 

“can you shut up, karl’s entire stream literally heard you.” he raised his voice at you. you froze. 

sure, you’ve heard him scream from time to time, being mad or frustrated on his game but never to you. he had always seemed so kind and sweet to you. 

“fuck, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to.” you apologised. you genuinely didn’t mean for anyone to hear you, not especially if it was obvious to people that someone was accompanying dream in his room.

“just get out before you make another noise.” he reprimanded you. 

you stared at his figure as he went back to his game before picking up your laptop and leaving the room. 

you sat on the couch in his living room, trying to process what had just happened in that room. 

you calmed yourself before you started crying. you were expecting the day to end well, with you cuddling your boyfriend at the end of the night. 

things don’t usually go your way, do they? 

you were thinking of leaving. it was getting late, anyway. but you hadn’t cooked the next meal for the boys. 

so you did just that. you cooked a simple meal, putting it on the counter, leaving a note to tell them to put the plate into the microwave before eating. 

and off you go, back to your house. 

you weren’t offended, you’d say. you were sure he was mad at a game before getting off on you. you didn’t take any of his screaming to heart. 

what sucked at that moment was that you got a fever on top of your cold and no one to cuddle you. 

you didn’t get sick often, but when you did, you always had dream there for you. 

what you did have this time was sapnap texting you, thanking you for the food that you left on the table. 

the next day came and lucky you, it had been a weekend, and you planned to stay home all day, trying to fight off this stupid cold. 

you got on your phone to order food for the boys, trying to make sure they had food today. though it’s only the afternoon and they’ve probably just woken up, you wanted them to wake up to food waiting. 

after you ordered some mcdonalds for them, making sure to text sapnap about it. shockingly enough, he was awake and already showered. he thanked you for the food but questioned when you were going to come, noticing that there was only two meals. 

sick, can’t get out of bed. you texted him. 

what have you done today? he asked.

showered, and then back to bed. you told him truthfully.

eat and then take your meds. he advised you. you told him you’d do it later when you have the energy to. he didn’t try to go against you knowing how damn stubborn you are. 

also, he knew that you needed the extra rest and getting up while you’re still tired may result you to get into an accident or faint. 

so, he trusted you to remember to eat your medicine later. 

dream honestly didn’t bother asking why you were missing from his house that day. sure, he did notice, since the one who always giving him food while working had been you, and you didn’t do that. 

at some point during the day, dream became exhausted, or hungry, but was frustrated that he had no longer you to rely on for energy that day. 

that day wasn’t the only day you were absent from his house, it dragged out to days. 

the weird thing was, he didn’t get a single text from you all week, and that made his question if you were okay or not. 

“dude, get out of your cave and let’s watch a movie.” sapnap came in dream’s room in attempt to get him to accompany him in watching a movie with him in the living room. 

after some time, dream gave in and turned off his pc, finally getting up to stretch and leave his room. 

“there’s food for you on the table.” sapnap told dream. it must’ve been you who ordered it. but to be honest, he was missing the home cooked meals you always made for him. 

so he asked sapnap where you had been all week. 

“you’re not serious, are you?” sapnap asked dream. dream gave him a confused look back. 

“it took you this long to ask?” sapnap ranted about you being sick all week and not allowing him to visit in case you accidentally gave him the illness. 

he ranted about the fact dream didn’t bother to ask until now, when he selfishly said he missed your cooking, like you weren’t good for anything else but to feed him like a parent would. 

sure, sapnap and him had been friends for years, but that didn’t excuse him for being an idiot and making stupid decisions, especially about you. and for what? your sneezed being too distracting for the man. 

“fuck.” dream said. 

“yeah, fuck.” sapnap spat out, out of breath from ranting and not stopping to pull a breath. 

dream and him sat in silence, the weird kind of silence. the one where it’s obvious they were thinking of what to do next. 

sapnap sighed. “dude, seriously? go.” he told dream to go to your house to take care of you. 

dream ran to his room, grabbing his keys, wallet and phone and went straight to his car to drive to your place. 

on the way, he grabbed some of your favourite comfort food and flowers. he needed to make it up to you. 

he seriously got mad at you for sneezing? what a fucker. 

he opened your door with the spare key you gave him, making sure  he was quiet so he didn’t disrupt you if you were sleeping on the couch like you tend to do. 

he say the top of your head poking out slightly from the side of the couch. you were laying down on it, snuggled in one of your favourite blankets, watching tv.

“hey.” he slowly said, walking slowly to you, not really wanting to do anything abruptly in case you were mad. 

he saw your head move to tilt towards the voice. obviously you knew who was in your living room at the moment, you just weren’t expecting him to bring stuff. 

you sat up on the couch, bringing the blanket with you, making sure you were fully covered, not in the mood for the cold air to hit your feet. 

“i come bearing gifts.” dream said. 

“i see that.” you told him. why was he stating the obvious? 

“look, i know this doesn’t make up for basically neglecting yo- no, not basically, totally neglecting you, but i thought this was a good way to start?” dream. 

you sat and stared at him for a while, thinking about what to do. 

who were you kidding, you were soft for him. he could literally break your bones and you’d forgive him, especially when he came with flowers. 

“you know flowers are my weak spot.” you pouted at him, after a while of silence. 

dream sighs in relief. “and that’s exactly why i bought them.” he said before bring you in for a hug. 

you pushed him away, telling him that you still had a fever and you didn’t want it to go to him. 

“if i do get it, then you’ll have to take care of me next time. for now, i’m taking care of you.” he told you, giving you a kiss on the forehead. 

“tell me what you want, i’ll do anything for you.” he told you. you smiled at him before hugging him close to you, pulling him into a comfortable position to continue watching the show you had on your tv.

[blazeismyname]

AGHHH, STAY SAFEE PLEASEEE!!!! CARMILLA ISNT RWADY TO MAKE YOU A MECH YET!!!!! (Trynna stay ligh hearted but for real, stay safe!)

Also! Will be making a Master do as soon as possible since this thread is a mess! It will most likely be started around next week, before I start the actual writing (for clarity for myself and others who are desperately trying to keep track of this thread LMAO-)

I screamed like, multiple times throughout your post and have started literally growling when I get excited thinking about this btw, it's getting insane.

ANYWAYS!!! TOO MY IDIOT RANTS!

OHMIGOSH- Everyone being from different places in Europe all forming together at this castle... it leans so hard into the vibrant cast and misfit vibes they're giving off while also being kinda parallel to canon with all the Mechs being from different parts of space!!!! I'm consuming them allll.... Jonny and Nastya have to be adopted then because I refuse to think about French Jonny-

UGH AND CARMILLA THREATENING MAMA BEAR ON ANYONE WHO THINKS BRIAN BEING ODD IS BAD... IM FALLING TO ME KNEES AND SLAMMING THE GROUND AND SOBBING.... AND LIKE, THE IDEA OF AN OFF HANDED, "Grab me the wrech rust head." IS KILLINF ME- AND ALSO HER THREATENINF MARIUS BUT AINCE BRIAN IS SO KIND AND EVERYTHING HE JUST SHAKES HIS HEAD LIKE "Mama, please don't hurt anyone"

AGH, YOU PUT THEIR WHOLE RELATIONSHIP INTO WORDS BETTER AGHHH

TAHNKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU FOR COMPLIMWNTING MY WRITING, ILL GO INTO IN A BIT, BUT IT MEANS EVERYTHING

Agahgahghagagaggagghggg, Nastya telling Jonny sorry and tucks the rose.. Gravels and sobs... Carmilla probably hesitating from upstairs... Ugh, and Jonny feeling betrayed (he's not being betrayed, this is literally for the best) and he probably acted horribly to her after she does hee silly little magic glow (I LOVED THAT PART BTW)

UGH- AND BRIAN GETTING AUDITORY SENSORY OVERLOAD... GROWLS!!! It also makes me think about him mayhe having some physical sensory issues? Like, he's been through a lot of physical through, so maybe, even if his skin is now metal, he's more prone to shutting down with too much feelings or at certain feelings? Idk, just a thought

AND YES, BRIAN HELPING JONNY EITH HIS SENSORY ISSUES... THE AUTISTIC MEN......... UGHH...........

AND ALL FOURS JONNY HES JUST AGHHH... WHEN BRIAN MAKES IT TO THE ROSE (maybe, on a second thought, it's been a good time, and Aurora kinda guides him to it to show him how little time there is (its doesnt come acrosss sadly)) AND JONNY FINDS HIM AND GETS ON ALL FOURS.. ANGRILY GROWLING AND BRIAN FALLS TO THE GROUND, STSRTING TO CRY AS JONNY CLAWS FORWARD, SCREAMING AND YELLING!!!@ AND ALSO ITD REALLY HIT BRIAN IN THE TRAUMA- this is um... derailed from the all fours

Marius would absolutely. And somehow nobody notices until Lyf... Marius is bragging about his height, and Lyf is like, "Bastard, you are wearing shoes that are half your height to be taller. Nu uh."

UGH, AND THE SILLY CONFESSIONS!!! GROWLS-

Also, consider the garden being overruned until Brian comes along and fixes it because gardening Brian... ahgghgahdhbdnem

OH UH. I WAS SINGING LOST IN THE COSMOS AND HAD AN IDEA.. I CAN BARELY REMEMBER BUT I THINK IT HAD TO DO WITH HIM BEING LONELY. ILL EXXPAMD ON THAT LATER SINCE I FORGOR AND ITS GETTING LATE

Also, not talking about anything... Just want to say thank yall for putting up with my annoying autistic ass and every time you compliment my writing, it makes me feel so good. I have a kinda trauma (idk if it's really that??? It might be) with people I trusted going behind my back and calling my writing shit and to hear unbiased people say it's good makes me so fuckin happy... This whole thread also makes me feel part of something really fun and good and I'm so proud of everyone who contributed hehe

Anyways. Thanks. I'm gonna go post some doodles and get back to writinngggg

Beauty and the Beast, but it's the Mechanisms.

Jonny must be the beast because feral Jonny and the whole heart thing... prove me wrong.

Tim or Brian is Belle.

Rest of the Mechs are the servants in the Beast's house. With an exception for Marius as Gaston cause I can totally fucking see it. He would suck at it though because it's Marius. And also, short Marius HC.

This is probably not new. But it's been brewing in my head for a good few months, ever since I put my Mechs OC in the iconic Belle dress.

[plume-pigmented-pili]

Hey hey! here’s a little something I wrote for Eli a few months ago. They convinced me i should post it, so here i am lol

———

Tw: Descriptions of a Cold, sickness (non graphic), feelings unwanted, coughing, headaches, misunderstandings, hurt/comfort. Let me know if I need to add more!

Words: 5.2k

Pairing: Prinxiety (Written as Romantic but could be read as platonic i guess)

“Virgil is miserable. Its the middle of the night, and Virgil is stuck in bed, unable to sleep, with a horrible cold. The actual cold isn’t why he’s miserable, though.

Is it selfish to want to be cared for?”

—

Through Sickness and Health

Virgil could hear the clock on the opposite wall ticking just a tad too fast, and didn’t need to even look over at it to know it was way too late to be awake. Sure, he didn’t have the best sleep schedule, but at least he was usually enjoying himself when he stayed up, and it was rarely this late. It wasn’t even his fault this time.

But here Virgil was, laying in bed curled under all the blankets he owned, wishing he was dead. On paper, that sounds a lot worse than it really was, but who could blame him? The sweet release of death sounded like heaven compared to suffering here any longer. His throat was sandpaper dry, nose clogged with snot, and what felt like a small bomb went off in his skull with every movement.

That, though, wasn’t the main reason he was suffering.

He’d been sick before, he knew it would be over soon, but no physical pain could compare to the hurt he felt, knowing that the others knew of his illness, and didn’t give a single damn.

There was no way they didn’t know what was happening - even if he’d tried to hide it, which he hadn’t, it’s not like acting was ever his specialty - but not a single one of them had batted an eye since he came down with this stress induced cold.

Well, that wasn’t completely true. Patton had asked if he was feeling alright on day two, when Virgil had shuffled downstairs around three in the afternoon to grab a snack, hoodie flipped up as he dug around, his hands clearly shaky from fever yet he’d been too tired to try and hide it. He’d told Patton, in the least shaky voice he could muster, that he just wasn’t feeling very well.

In hindsight, it had probably been incredibly selfish of him to expect Patton to come to his aid and comfort him, maybe offer to tuck him in on the couch and make him something healthy to eat. He’d seen Patton do just that plus more when Logan or Roman were feeling under the weather after all. But despite knowing it was selfish, he couldn’t help the disappointment and sinking feeling he’d felt when Patton had simply responded with a gentle, almost pitying, “I’m sorry kiddo, thank you for telling me.” before walking away rather hurriedly, leaving it there.

The conversation rolled around in his head, as it had been for the past 5 days. Nobody had come to check on him, not even the resident fatherly side to see if he was feeling any better. He’d been downstairs one other time since that little exchange with Patton, but when he’d walked in on Roman and Logan talking casually in the living room, they’d both given him short, obviously forced smiles, and sunk out. That’d been on day three, and Virgil hadn’t gone back down there since. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Maybe they didn’t want to get sick? Or maybe they thought he was gross, and didn’t want to be near him. Did they think he would be rude to them?

All this thinking was making Virgil’s head hurt more. And it really didn’t matter the reason. They didn’t care, they clearly wanted to avoid him.

It hurt, worse than his actual sickness, having to stay away from everyone for days on end. It reminded him of the old days before he was accepted, when he wasn’t welcome anywhere else but the confinement of his room. He missed Patton’s warm greeting each time he walked into a room, or the rants Logan would get lost in that were strangely so calming. Most notably, though, he missed Roman.

He missed their stupid banter that always left him feeling more confident, and the never ending singing that Virgil pretended not to adore. Hell, he missed just talking to the creative side. He’d give anything just to have a conversation with him, just to lift his spirits a little. He longed for one of the warm, solid hugs that only Roman could give.

He would probably even give up his Disney posters, his entire MCR song library, or get banned from every Hot Topic in the country, just to be held and cuddled right at this moment. To be held in warm, secure arms, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and roses, and drift to sleep knowing he wouldn’t be alone in the morning.

That last one had about a zero percent chance of happening, even if he wasn’t sick and contagious, but Virgil’s sleep deprived, fever ridden brain had decided to be sentimental, and Virgil couldn’t even stop it. At least he wasn’t gone enough to consider asking for any of that comfort he craved. it’d be easier for everyone to just wait in his room until he was better. Then maybe things would be normal again.

And that was his plan, until someone knocked on his door.

The anxious side’s gaze shot over to the clock, grimacing when the quick movement made his eyeballs throb. Who the Hell was knocking on his door at nearly 3:45 in the morning?

“Who-“ Virgil cringed at how his gravely voice broke, cleared his throat, then tried again. “Who is it?”

“I knew you were awake!” Romans voice, surprisingly enough, came from the other side of the door. He was clearly trying to stay quiet, but for some reason, he sounded really… relieved, and chipper. A second later, the Prince added a bit more bashfully, “Uh, unless i just woke you up by knocking, and if that’s the case I sincerely apologize, I didn’t mea-“

“No, I w’s already awake…” Virgil interrupted with a slight slur, groggy brain trying to keep up with what was happening. Being the embodiment of Anxiety, though, meant he didn’t get to stop being anxious just because he was sick. Why was he here? Was he angry? Virgil couldn’t recall doing anything that could offend anyone since he’d been self-quarantined, but then again, he couldn’t really remember his last name at the moment either. He mumbled to himself as he untangled his legs from the covers, cursing the universe under his breath because his head felt two times it’s normal size. Then he took a deep breath and sat up. He didn’t want to make Roman uncomfortable or grossed out seeing him all sick in bed, cause holy shit would that be embarrassing. He still didn’t look great, but it was a small step. “Come in Pr’ncey.”

The door swung open, revealing a timid, bed headed Roman, who seemed to relax a little when noticing Virgil sitting up in bed. “Hey there.. sorry to barge in, I hope i’m not bothering you.” he said, voice still lowered and really quite gentle as he shut the door behind him.

Virgil went to shake his head, but stopped himself before he could cause himself fucking brain damage and just shrugged instead. “ y’re not both’ring me. ‘sup?” yikes, all this sitting up and trying to look presentable business was making him realize how exhausted he was. His eyelids felt heavy already.

Roman took a few steps forward, keeping his eyes steadily on Virgil like he was waiting for him to keel over and die, or cough on him. It seemed pretty damn dramatic, even for Roman. “I… just wanted to check on you. I’ve uh, been a little worried about you, and i couldn’t sleep.” The Prince said, hesitant as he lowered himself on the foot of the bed.

Virgil blinked a few times, curling his legs up so his knees were to his chest to make sure Roman wouldn’t touch his feet under the 5 layers of blankets he had over him. Or maybe it was the sudden, treacherous hope that was rising in him, a hope he was trying to stifle. Roman was… worried about him? Roman of all sides? I mean, he wasn’t surprised that he cared, he and Roman were friends now after all. Virgil was just surprised he cared about this. He thought they were all in agreement to avoid him or something.

Virgil was about to open his mouth and say… something - he didn’t really know what he was going to say. It felt like his train of thought was chugging along through molasses - but he was interrupted before he could get any words out.

“Dude… no offense, but you look like actual death. And why in the name of Hades are you buried under so many blankets?” The Prince asked with what sounded like genuine confusion, at least for the second part.

Virgil huffed and pulled the blankets tighter around him, the movement causing him to shiver. He couldn’t decide what to focus on; The cold air on his back, the rising sensation of relief knowing Roman cared, or how weird that question had been. Quite honestly, Virgil wasn’t offended because he knew he looked like shit. he was just a little confused. He thought Roman would have known he’d look like shit. “What do you mean why do I have so many blankets. I literally feel like ’m freezing to death. ’s part of the package, shouldn’t you know this?” He practically deadpanned, not even for the snarkiness like usual. His speech was just dull.

But that only left Roman looking more confused, and probably a good deal more concerned if his expression was anything to go by. “I-... I didn’t know that, no.. I’m sorry. Do you want another blanket or something…?” he asked carefully, still awfully and almost painfully cautious.

And Virgil… was at a loss for how this could possibly be new information to Roman. it was pretty common knowledge even if you’ve never had a fever before. But instead of dwelling, Virgil once again stopped himself from shaking his head, sighing instead. “No, it won’ help.” he said shortly. The effort would be futile, but it was endearing that Roman at least asked. “Thanks though. That’s.. really nice of you t’ offer.” The anxious side offered a bit more quietly.

There was an awkward silence that followed, Roman shuffling his feet against the carpet slightly as he looked around the room. Virgil saw the other’s eyes catch on the pile of used tissues in the floor, another bout of confusion flashing in his bright green eyes, but he didn’t mention it this time. Maybe it was a lack of sleep making the Prince act so clueless at the moment. “I… I guess i’ve just.. i don’t know, everything is more boring without you around. Nobody to insult without actually offending them.” Roman spoke again after a moment, sending a half smile in Virgil’s direction.

A little smirk matched with a snort is what the Prince was rewarded with, Virgil's spirits lifted regardless of his misery. It felt nice knowing he was missed, and it made his chest warm knowing it was coming from Roman. For some reason, knowing he could make things more bearable for his counterpart was.. rewarding, in a way. And Roman looked proud of himself, before he continued a bit more solemnly. “You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, like what, 5 says now?”

That got Virgil to sigh, and maybe there was some defensiveness laying beneath the surface, made worse thanks to being miserable, but all he managed was a mildly annoyed side eye to Roman as he responded in a mumble, still doing his best not to run Roman off. “‘t’s not my fault.”

Roman was quick to shake his head, slight guilt in his expression. “I know! I-I’m not trying to make you feel bad, i guess i just- i don’t know, i’m just talking out loud… sorry.” Roman’s voice had quieted, eyes trained on the floor somewhat shamefully as he seemed to search for his words. “I just.. I just wish…” but once again, he trailed off, shaking his head and seeming to give up. “I’m sorry.”

“‘s fine, Princey.” Virgil mumbled back, eyes dropping to his lap where he picked at a loose string on his bedspread. Another silence followed, Virgil trying to sniffle as silently as he could. Despite how weird this interaction had been so far, and how slightly awkward it’s gotten, Virgil was honestly just trying to soak in the mere presence of another side while it lasted. He’d never liked being alone for so long. His stomach was starting to hurt for a reason aside from sickness. This sure was a good way to get Roman to leave early, the others were probably right for leaving him alone so far.

Suddenly, Virgil squeezed the blankets in his fist to try and stop a sudden tickle in his throat, the sensation coming out of nowhere. Unfortunately though, his instincts won out just seconds later as he was forced to cough, the sound gargled and gross even when he covered the whole bottom half of his face with his covers. Dammit, dammit, stupid fucking cough. And Roman just got there too. He wasn’t ready for the creative side to leave again yet.

“S- Sorry, sorry ‘bout that. Shit.” He mumbled rather quickly, hoping to by just a few minutes longer of the creative side’s company before it was taken away again for who knows how long. His head felt like it was being split open, no thanks to the effort it took to cough. Who the Hell’s idea was sickness? They should be fired.

Much to his surprise though, when Virgil hesitantly looked up to gauge how put off Roman was by his display, he only saw an overwhelming about of worry, but even more importantly, alarm.

“Apologies, but is this like- normal??” Roman asked with eyes noticeably wider, studying Virgil's pained expression, hunched over posture, the mess of dirty tissues around, and the way the bright numbers of his digital clock on his nightstand was covered carefully, with a washcloth no doubt.

Virgil drew in a deep, slow breath through his nose as he rubbed on his temples to try and alleviate some pain, eyes closed and head tilted down. Roman’s ridiculous questions were just making his headache worse, and honestly he didn’t even understand how the Hell he was so confused. Was this his plan? To come in here and confuse Virgil and his already incapacitated brain? ‘Cause if so, he was doing a brilliant job. “Roman, what the hell are you talking about.”

It came out less like a question, more like a very tired statement, but he was answered with confused stammering, Roman gesturing almost desperately to Virgil and his state. “What do you mean what am I talking about?? Dude, you’re clearly not doing well. I mean, I wasn’t gonna bring it up, but you’re sweating like a sinner in church, you’re covered in a thousand blankets, you were just hacking up a lung and you’re barely able to speak right from, what i’m assuming, is a nose full of mucus!”

“Yeah, okay, I get it. I look like shit, Pr’ncey, enough said.” Virgil snapped, glaring up at Roman and accidentally moving his head up to look at him too fast, sending a flare of agony through his skull. He cursed under his breath and winced, but powered through it even as Roman lifted a hand to- to what, help? It didn’t matter, Virgil moved away from the effort. “No, don’t touch me, alright? I don’t wan’ your pity.”

Virgil knew all of this was coming out more aggressive than he ever would allow if he was feeling himself. Hell, even now he was begging himself to just shut up and stay calm. But after almost 2 full days with no sleep, and 5 days of nonstop pain, coughing, being unable to breath properly, the feeling of fire in his throat every time he tried to eat, and then on top of that, being shunned by the 3 people he wanted- needed, more than anything. Well, he really couldn’t stop his composure from cracking and shattering.

Roman looked ready to respond, seemingly struck with more pity than before, but Virgil’s hand shot up to stop him. “I don’t want to hear it, Princey. Why the Hell are you even here anyway? If you’ve missed me so much, why did you wait 5 f’cking days to come see me? T’ come ‘check on me’? And, by th’ way, so far you’ve really only been fucking with me and making me feel worse, so in reality it probably would ‘ve been better had you just kept up your streak of avoiding me like ev’ryone else!”

Virgil was breathing heavily, head pounding and lungs burning after raising his voice just a bit too much at the end of his rant. He replayed the words back in his mind, heart sinking when he realized how aggressive he’d gotten. He couldn’t slow down his breathing, why couldn’t he slow his breathing?? Jesus christ, he wasn’t about to break down on top of all that other shit he just unleashed. Perfect, he was just proving the other side’s point for them.

With his body now starting to shake, jaw clenched to hold back tears because this week has been bullshit, and he felt like curling up and disappearing, if not to escape his aching body then to at least escape the anger he knew would result from that whole verbal meltdown he just had. Obviously Roman would be leaving, but would he yell first? Tell him how annoying and selfish he was, and how he didn’t get to be a huge asshole just because he was feeling a little under the weather? Or would he leave in silence, just exit the room with that silent, cold anger that Roman only showed when he was really upset.

Maybe he’d tell everyone else what happened, how he’d tried to extend an olive branch, test it out just to see if maybe his illness hadn’t made him into a pathetic prick, but Virgil lashed out as expected and ran him off. Would Logan and Patton get mad at him too? Come in and tell him off for being so horrible to his own family, that he couldn’t even be a decent person for 5 minutes.

Maybe things wouldn’t go back to normal even after he’s recovered, all because he couldn’t just control himself.

“Virgil, what are you talking about?” Roman asked exasperated, and Virgil dragged his hands down his face. He meant to make more of a growl in frustration, but it came out closer to a pained whine. His eyes stung for a new reason now. He just wanted this to stop. Why wouldn’t Roman just stop?

“What. What am I talking about what. I can’t do this- this whole vague shit righ’now, jus’ spit it out.” He hated how short tempered he was sounding, but Roman didn’t seem to be fazed. Virgil could see the Prince waving his hands around in his peripheral, looking tongue tied.

“The- The part where you think i’m fucking with you?? Why you think we’re avoiding you?? Why you’re so-... so….” Roman trailed off, a look of realization crossing his face, which quickly turned to horror and guilt. “Wait a… w-wait a second, Virgil, are you- are you sick??”

To say Roman sounded appalled would be an understatement, his eyes wide in shock, brows drawn, mouth slightly agape. Virgil’s head spun, suddenly dizzy as his brain tried to figure out why Roman sounded so horrified- why he sounded so surprised. He couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t understand what was going on. He felt nauseous and he just wanted to sleep. Before he knew it, tears were trekking down his face, thick tears springing from his eyes making the pressure behind them even more unbearable. A sob tore painfully from his throat, instantly catching the Prince’s full attention.

“Oh my… Virgil-“

Virgil shrunk away from the Prince’s voice, curling up once more into a ball, trying to hide from everything. His lip wobbled, he could feel it, but he was too tired to be embarrassed or feel pathetic. He pulled the covers closer around him. “R-Roman, please jus’-“ He hiccuped on a sob, hissed through his teeth as the action sent a sharp pain through his lungs. “I don’ know i-if you’re tryin’ to joke ‘r somethin’, but— but ’s n- not funny, o-okay?”

Instead of speaking clearly at a normal volume, Virgil was nearly mumbling the entire time he was speaking, slurring through words even worse than when the conversation started. Was it just him, or was the room spinning? “Please, i… i need you t’...” Virgil huffed for breath, exhaustion wearing on him like a switch was just suddenly flipped. It nearly took all his energy to try and get a deep breath.

“Ro…”

Virgil was met with a warm, broad chest, and strong arms wrapping around him before he even knew he was slumping forward. His ears were ringing, drowning out what sounded like a familiar voice speaking to him. They sounded distressed, he hoped they were okay. What was combing through his hair? He couldn’t quite remember what was going on before then, but all he knew was, he was safe now.

Then, the world went dark.

———

Virgil came into consciousness a little while later, his brain the kind of blissfully empty that only comes after passing out, apparently. He couldn’t grasp where he was before, existing in a reality where there is no past for a few moments. His head was vaguely aching, like a dull throb faded into the background, and his lungs stung only a little when he breathed in deeply. In his sleepy state though, Virgil didn’t concern himself with those feelings.

Virgil couldn’t see anything, he noticed not long after, but he could hear murmuring and the distant sound of water running.

Next, he realized he knew he wasn’t in his own room anymore, both because this wasn’t his mattress, and the room didn’t smell like his own.

He could smell.. cinnamon… and peaches… and ink. Somewhere in his groggy brain, Virgil recognized the smell, but at the moment it was just out of his reach. It didn’t bother him, though, not when he was so relaxed and calm. He felt like he was one with the bed, and the soft, fluffy sheets encasing him.

A few more seconds of coming to, and Virgil realized his eyes were covered with something damp, and cool… soft too. It felt amazing against his warm skin. oh right, i’m sick, a thought entered his mind gently.

Then, a lot less gently, the events from before he passed out rushed to the forefront of his mind, practically smacking him in the face. Because yes, he’d passed out, right in front of Roman like an idiot, oh shit, why isn’t he in his room, where is he-

“Virgil? Hey woah, calm down buddy- here,” Virgil heard someone quickly cross the room, and tended his body for all of two seconds before the washcloth over his eyes was being lifted.

Virgil blinked blearily, squinting his eyes even though the room was almost completely shrouded in darkness, save for a thin line of light coming from the cracked bathroom door. Someone was sat beside him on the side of the bed, but he was too blurry for Virgil to make out details.

“There you are. Hey Hot Topic, how are you feeling?” the person asked, speaking more gently than anyone had spoken to Virgil in a long time. Strangely though, Virgil wasn’t upset by it. It was.. nice…

Wait a minute, he knew that voice.

“R- Roman..? I.. Where…?” Distantly, Virgil knew he sounded like shit, which meant he probably looked like shit, and directly after asking that half assed question, he realized he had to be in the Princes room. “Oh.. fuckin’- I passed out on you..” he groaned, moving his hands up to scrub the blurriness from his eyes.

It worked, surprisingly, and now that Virgil could see, he realized that yes, Roman was the one sitting next to him, and yes he was in Roman’s room, in Roman’s bed. He also noticed how tossed Roman’s hair was, and the bright red with little snowmen pajamas the Prince wore. They were really adorable.

“Yes, I’m afraid you did.. and I’m also afraid that I am partly to blame for it.” Roman sighed, casting his eyes down as he pressed his lips in a line.

Virgil’s brows drew together, and, because he was so delirious, he reached out to grab gently at Romans sleeve. “How is it your fault that I passed out?” he asked incredulously. At least he could speak properly now. Now? Now since when? Oh geez, “Wait how long have I been out? A few hours? Days? Years?! Did I fall into a coma?!”

The corner of Roman’s lip lifted in amusement, and he gently lay a hand over Virgil’s, on his sleeve. “No, no nothing like that, Dark Knight. It’s only been an hour or so. I.. hope you don’t mind, but I had to bring you in here. Your fever was… really high.” The Prince of Creativity said, solemn by the end.

“I think i’ve managed to get it down, so it’s not so dangerous anymore, but Logan will definitely have to keep an eye on it today.”

That got Virgil's attention. “Wait- Logan? Uh.. yeah, not to burst your bubble Princey, but I doubt that’ll be happening.” There was a slight bitterness to his tone as he wrapped his free arm around his midsection, and though there wasn’t as much bitterness as there usually would be, Roman still picked up on it loud and clear.

He inclined his head, as if in agreement, and Virgil stomach only sunk a little bit before Roman was speaking again.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Virgil. You see, there seems to have been a grave misunderstanding. This is how I’m partially responsible for your passing out, same as Logan and Patton are also partly to blame.”

Virgil’s eyes widened, breath hitching at the sheer ridiculousness of that suggestion. No!! How could it be their fault? He’s the one that got so sick and couldn’t keep himself healthy enough not to fucking pass out. He opened his mouth to say as much, but Roman held up a finger before he could get out a single word, silencing him.

“A few days ago, 5 to be exact, it came to Patton’s attention that you weren’t feeling yourself. He told me and Logan that you told him you weren’t feeling very well, and that we should all give you some space the next few days.” Roman said carefully. Ah yes, that conversation. The one that’s haunted Virgil for nearly a week. Virgil remembered it well.

With a hesitant, still very lost nod from Virgil, Roman continued. “It seems that Patton, and in turn, Logan and I, assumed that your strange behavior was linked to.. well, anxiety.” He gave Virgil’s hand a light squeeze, any sign of a smile gone and replaced with pained regret. The Prince swallowed, just as Virgil pieced it together.

“Because of these more stressful times Thomas is experiencing, we wrongly thought that you were having a rough week, leading to worse anxiety. So… we’ve been leaving you on your own, thinking we were helping you..”

Virgil.. didn’t know what to say. He looked up and found Roman’s red, sorrowful eyes. When he focused, he could see they were just a little bit bloodshot, even in the dark. Proof that he had previously cried, no doubt about this. When Virgil didn’t speak, still too shocked as his slowed brain processes this, Roman continued, quietly choking back a sob just after he averted his gaze to the floor.

“V-Virgil-“ he voice cracked. Virgil’s heart was sinking in his chest. Roman had never looked so heartbroken. “Virgil I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were sick, none of us did! I-I swear I didn’t know, I would have never left you alone if I had, Virgil, Star, i’m so so s-sorry,”

Roman was practically full on crying by that point, though he clearly tried to keep it to himself and stay quiet. Virgil was grateful for the effort, but there were much more important things to focus on at the moment. He may not be completely himself, but he still couldn’t let Roman be so sad.

It was because he wasn’t completely himself that Virgil automatically sat up (taking his time to do so, trying not to upset his head), and leaned himself right against Roman, chest to chest, looping his arms around to loosely hold Princey in a hug.

It all made sense now, why he’d been ignored all week, and why nobody came to check on him or try to help. He felt a little (read: a lot) stupid for thinking that anyone in his famILY would do anything but show him the upmost care and attention when he needed it. They thought they were helping, and honestly, had he in fact been having a bad week of heightened anxiety, giving him space would have been the right thing for them to do.

Roman was quick to return Virgil’s hug, though to his credit, his hug was a lot stronger and more secure than Virgil’s. He buried his face in Virgil’s hair, a steady stream of teary apologies spilling from him. A steady stream that Virgil hastily tried to end.

“Roman, it’s okay… i’m not upset, I promise it’s okay. I know you were doing what you thought would help me. Please don’t cry, Princey.” He said softly.

It might have been a few more minutes, or a few hours, that the two sides sat together in each other’s arms. Roman’s cries and apologies slowly quieted to a stop, though the gentle combing of fingers through Virgil’s hair only continued as they sat.

“Hey… Roman?” Virgil whispered after a few more moments, the whole mindscape quiet, save for the quiet sniffles from both Virgil and Roman every once in a while.

“Yes, sweet Midnight?” came an equally gentle response. Neither side moved, Virgil too content with his face snuggly buried against his counterpart’s shoulder, and Roman too content with having Anxiety safe in his arms.

“Would… well, you can say no, but would you mind.. if I stay in here..? I don’t… really want to be alone…” a hint of Virgil’s usual anxious tendencies showed itself despite the tiredness that was starting to cover the darker side. Instead of head-swimming exhaustion though, this time Virgil felt pleasantly heavy and relaxed.

Without uttering another word, Roman pulled them both down to lay their heads on the pillows, lifting one hand to gently flick his wrist and manipulate the covers around them. The light in the bathroom turned off with a soft click of Roman’s fingers, one that Virgil hardly registered as he shuffled somehow closer to the Prince, still tucked safely in his arms.

As he fell softly and smoothly into the first restful sleep he’s had in days, Virgil noticed that he wasn’t freezing cold anymore. The dull throb in his head had gone away almost entirely, and it felt that much easier to breathe. But most importantly, Virgil felt less alone than he had in a long, long time.

Needless to say, Virgil was feeling better already.