#maybe you are like me and need a lot of help with your ADHD. but the brain needs unstructured brainstorming.

[bullet-prooflove]

Shawnstown Planning

Planning for the Shawnstown series is underway and I am thinking of turning this into proper thing at some point.

It oddly ties in with some of the future work I have planned.

I thought this would be a good opportunity for some of the folks who are interested in writing processes to see how I undertake a series like this so I’ve documented this part of how I plan.

BEWARE THERE MAYBE SOME SPOILERS FOR SHAWNSTOWN

For me I’m a really visual person with some ADHD tendencies so I physically need to see certain things and be able to move/touch them in RL hence the pics below:

How I Start A Series:

I usually have a set of characters in mind and each book revolves around a character. The character's name is the heading of the post it because I don’t have titles yet.

I usually put some loose info about the character underneath so my brain understands the basic details at a glance. The last line is always a little about the love interest so I know the kind of person I’m developing the MC.

I also arrange these in the book order I think they may go in BUT they are subject to change, like if the MC has a lot of interaction with a character in their book or if there’s a timeline issue that forces my hand.

You can't really see the notes clearly but they go:

Book 1: Pope Cody

Book 2: Sammy Bryant

Book 3: Jack Abbot

Book 4: Charlie Reid

Book 5: Clayton Emerson

Book 6: Stan/Lee Rosado

Why These Are Set Out Like This:

It’s all about connections and knowing the audience’s thought trajectory through your small plots and series plot.

In Book 1, the likelihood is Pope will become friends with Sammy over the skatepark, he’ll probably help build it so the audience will get to meet Sammy and they’ll probably want more of him.

In Book 2, Sammy has either a friendly/acquaintance relationship with Jack because of ‘dumb fucking tourists’ and Jack likes to spend time outdoors and rents equipment.

In Book 3, Jack may come across an illegal weed farm in the wilderness with his lady love bringing in Police Chief Charlie.

In Book 4, the secret illegal poker game features Mayor Clay who asks Charlie if he’s managed to track down the old mayor who stole the town’s money.

In Book 5, one of the concessions the business manager suggests is using Stan/Lee’s previous fame/knowledge of the game to help give their football team a kick up the ass so they can start generating sponsorship and more opportunities for their kids in terms of scouts/scholarships which leads into Book 6 - Stan/Lee's redemption.

If you are wondering about the left over space on the board, that is for additional characters that many work themselves in because guys… what if… Jack’s friend Doctor Robby is facing burn out and decides to peace out and become the town’s ED Chief because it’s a slower pace?

The Next Stage - Plotting Drama & First Chapter Ideas

All my work is character driven so I'm very loose in terms of plotting a plot initially because I like to learn about the characters.

What I do instead is put initial drama ideas down for each character and that’s what you are seeing on the left side of the board.  Some of these will come to fruition, some won’t but they’re there to remind me this could be your knife in the table.

I usually pick 3 per book as it gives you ideas to play with or toss away:

Book 1: Pope – Family finding him, revealing real identity, snowstorm.

Book 2: Sammy – Tammi returning – snatching Nate/causing trouble between him and new lady, new lady's indecisiveness over keeping the inn or selling it to developers, damn tourists not heeding safety warnings.

Book 3: Jack – SAR going badly wrong leading to surviving in the woods, locating a weed farm with hostiles, PTSD

Book 4: Charlie – Finding out he has issues with the bullets still inside him, the scandal coming out, bartenders debts & illegal poker games.

Book 5: Clayton – A small heart attack from the stress, personal threats and a very physical one that results with a hospitalisation, son not speaking to him over temperament and funding.

Book 6: Stan/Lee – Depression over being the home town hero who failed, concerns that his father’s mental illness will become his/maybe even trying to locate his father, a kid he’s coaching needing help.

Right Side of the Board:

On this board it’s first chapter ideas. On my other boards for other things such as the Outlaw Royales series I’m working on where the story is already written it’s tasks like marketing, book covers, editing and such.

I’m not going to go into any detail on the first chapter ideas because I prefer you all to be surprised. If you can actually decode my writing on that board, you deserve a cookie.

Moving on from this I plan to start work on Pope’s first chapter over the next 24 hours. However it’s 30C here as we’re in the middle of a heat wave and we don’t have AC so we’ll have to see on that front.

Any questions feel free to hit me up x

[bomberqueen17]

progress

man last week at the farm was so hectic that it was Friday night before I had to recharge my laptop. Like, from Sunday morning to Friday night, I had not actually sat at my laptop, which is the primary place I do both the hobbies I like to do and spend my leisure time, for long enough to discharge the battery. So if that don't tell you something, IDk what does.

anyway. i'm back in buffalo really really enjoying the central air at the moment-- it's not even that hot it's just over 90% humidity unrelentingly and having a break from that is amazing.

Chita is 'm ebecoming pickier and pickier about food, and has grown very thin, which I don't like, but well, she's old enough to vote, and her thyroid medication is damaging her kidneys, so. There's a limit on how much longer we'll have with her, and I'd like to keep her going as long as I can, but. Well, it's hard. At least she's still happy and lovey and purry. Currently she's sleeping in a box under the ottoman, which is her favorite disappearance spot.

I'm determined to bash out the rest of this novel, which is taking for-fucking-ever but I think I almost know how it ends now.

I'm also thinking of giving up on getting treatment for ADHD. (whining about that behind cut)

Vyvanse did nothing, methylphenidate did nothing, now I'm on a higher dose of methylphenidate and I can tell I've taken it because I get headaches, drymouth, and occasionally feel like my heart is beating faster than it ought to, but I'm not having any positive effects from it. At this point I'm realizing I wouldn't know what a positive effect would even entail. I've spent about four thousand dollars out of pocket on this (high deductible), and then we switched health insurance (new job for dude) to... the same health insurance but with the deductible reset... so I'll have to spend seven thousand more before they cover anything at all, and I'm just all set. I could've bought myself a bunch of really nice shit for that, instead of a lot of headaches and some advice to form better habits. So. I'm trying to be scientific and document my experiences but I've pretty much got the gist of it by now. ADHD stimulant meds have no positive effects for me.

I guess that's all I was really trying to do, was find out if treatment was possible. So many people say it changed their lives, and I would've liked that. I know it takes a long time to dial in on the right medication and the right dosage but. I have literally not experienced any positive effect from anything, and at this point I can't even imagine what it would be like. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I was just expecting something unrealistic. I don't know why people take these medications. The current psych says stimulant meds slow your thoughts down. That's not what I need. I don't have trouble focusing because my mind is racing. I have trouble focusing because I forget I'm real. I have trouble getting anything done because I intrinsically cannot comprehend prioritizing goals. Slowing my thoughts down wouldn't help with that anyway. So I don't know why I'm spending so much time trying all this. The psych said that if the methylphenidate isn't helpful she might try modafinil next, and I had already looked that up and I'm not even sure what they're hoping it would do for me. Atomoxetine made me anhedonic and destroyed my digestion for a while. What's modafinil gonna do? I literally can't imagine what good thing it could do. Maybe I'm just too old and set in my ways. I am just not ever going to be a person who can set goals and then carry them out and I should accept that and get as Zen as I can about it. I'm basically unemployable and it's too late to change it. It's fine.

IDK the one therapist was like "i can't help you you should see a psychiatrist directly" but now that service is texting and calling me about scheduling another appointment and i have no idea what to even say. i guess i can text back and be like "it's all good, i am giving up!" but i don't know if they'll take that as an answer. But like, in the last session I did with her she was like "well a pill isn't gonna fix ya!" so i'm like well. then. what. are we doing here. telling me to keep a journal has only given me an almost traumatic aversion to notebooks, so i doubt there's any more like. useful information here. a pill isn't gonna fix me, it's not even going to help me, and a notebook isn't going to save me, and i have yet to encounter advice i haven't already tried, and i'm just you know what i'm good enough i guess. this is so much hassle and i have no faith that anyone is ever going to figure out what my fucking deal is anyway.

But. apart from that life goes on and is fine and i can stop fretting now and get back to that writing. I wish i could keep my house tidier but like, i also wish I could fly, right? Some things, you just can't have. I can't make my cat immortal, I can't learn how to make a fucking list, I can't set a goal and achieve it. But I can mostly write a book. Maybe I can finish one of those. I'll keep trying.

[comicaurora]

Hi! I remember you saying at some point (I think, on the podcast?) that just realizing you have ADHD helped you to deal with it because you found some practices and techniques to help it, even without medication - or something along these lines, do I remember correctly?

Can you tell, which techniques? I seem to be somewhat resistant to medication (tried all options we get in the country I'm in, and improvement is very minimal), so I'm interested what else can be done there just to make it manageable

Caveat that every ADHD person is different so what works for me might not work for you, but this is what I've found helpful:

Break up Executive Dysfunction and fight Time Blindness by SETTING TIMERS. I have a fitbit, and on days I can feel my brain being restless and uncooperative, I set a ten minute timer on it. When it runs out, I set another one, and so on. It buzzes on my wrist, so it's hard to ignore, but it's not gamebreakingly distracting so it doesn't ruin my mood if I'm on a work roll. A brief, tangible reminder that time is passing can help me snap out of a break period or, if I'm working, give me a feel for my rate of progress. I can also use that reminder to take stock of if I need to eat food, get up and stretch, or lie on the floor for a bit to reset.

Take SMALL, LATERAL BITES OF PROGRESS. If you're having a hard time working on something, feel out what else you might be able to make headway on. Maybe you've got some writing notes you could jot down to build on later. Maybe there's a tiny item on the day's to-do list you could cross off quickly. Maybe there's a text or an email you've been meaning to fire off, or you've got a mild itch to doodle something in a sketchbook. Any progress is better than no progress, and even if you're just on your phone on the couch, you can get a lot of good work done just jotting down thoughts in the notes app. The lateral element is also very important; if you're fixating too hard on the ONE thing you're SUPPOSED to do, you can trap yourself in a spiral of how it's what you're SUPPOSED to be working on but it feels IMPOSSIBLE. Literally let yourself do anything else. Don't trap yourself with "it's either doing your responsibility or it's NOTHING." Your work is not a plate of broccoli you're not allowed to leave the table without eating. Give yourself permission to un-imprison yourself.

Related, If there are external factors on the responsibility - like an outside deadline or a team of people you're working with waiting on your stuff - don't be afraid to let them know where you're at, or if you're uncertain you can make the deadline as stated, even if you think your "brain is not working" reason isn't good enough to justify the delay. Most people are extremely chill about it, and some of them will even offer to help or make it easier for you in some way. "Struggling with deadline" is not an ADHD-only experience. It is one of the most relatable human experiences, and basically everyone will be inclined to help you out.

ANY PROGRESS IS BETTER THAN NO PROGRESS. LARGE projects can feel extremely overwhelming because you know you can throw everything you've got at them for a day or even a week and it still won't be finished, and if you've got that shadow looming over you, you might sink into a malaise of "I can't finish it and that means I can't even bring myself to start it." The best way to fight that is to make ANY progress in ANY direction. Every large project can be broken down into bite-sized chunks. Anything feels overwhelming if you see it as an unassailable monolith. Work you do now is work you don't have to do later.

CHECKLISTS. It's hard to hold a large list of things that need your attention all in your head at once. It is unbelievable how helpful it is to just write them down somewhere obvious, and when you're done with something, CHECK IT OFF. Don't erase it, leave it visible that you FINISHED it.

Tell your anxiety to CALL YOU BACK. This one's weird, but when I'm stuck stressing over something, I've found it legitimately works to pull up my schedule and pencil in "worry about <thing>" for a specific date and time. My brain registers that SOMETHING has been resolved and nothing has been outright dismissed or ignored, so it settles down. When the time rolls around, the source of the anxiety is still there, but the feeling of anxiety itself has been drained out of it.

On a related note, this might not be an ADHD thing, but I've found it's very useful to Avoid Anxiety And Guilt Spirals by HOLDING COMPULSIONS AT ARMS' LENGTH. I picked this up from some readings on OCD, which is in the category of "I don't seem to HAVE this to a diagnosable degree, but some of the structures were at one point familiar to me." It's good to be aware that, if your brain keeps circling back to any given thought that distresses you, that is structurally an obsession, and if in reflexive response you have a desire to do a specific thing to mitigate that feeling, that is structurally a compulsion. This includes things like "I bet my friends think I'm annoying - I should message them something fun and casual to see if they still like me." Or "I'm worried about the state of the world - I should check the news so no new horribleness blindsides me." The compulsion might contain a sensible thing to do; checking in on your friends is good, keeping up with world events is smart. But done AS a compulsion, it reinforces the anxiety cycle. Even when it results in something neutral or positive, it only confirms that this innocuous thing is your only lifeline over a yawning abyss of terror and stress, because if this time it was fine, it must be because THIS time your vigilance Saved You. So you'd better do it next time, too, because there WILL be a next time, and you might not be so lucky twice, right? The way to stop this cycle is to weaken it over time by, when the obsession pops up (a random reminder of a stressor, an old fear) and the compulsion is prompted, do not do it, no matter how reasonable it seems. Hold the compulsion at arms' length, becoming aware of what the obsession wants you to do and why. Similarly, sit with the awareness of the obsession. You are having an unpleasant thought, but having a thought does not make it inherently meaningful in any way. It doesn't mean you're actually in any danger, any more than you were before you had the thought. It's discomfiting because it removes the salve of the compulsion from the sting of the obsession, but in the medium to long term, it withers the cycle at the root and makes the entire process loosen its grip. Then you can do things like talk to your friends and check the news without it being underlaid with the sting of panic and desperation; they are, after all, neutral activities with typically beneficial consequences, not lifelines over the abyss. It might startle you when, months later, an intrusive thought pops up that used to send you spiralling into misery for hours or days, but now it feels irrelevant - even absurd - and easy to disregard. It really does work, and it's surprising how many things you can untangle this way.

Avoid boredom time prison by HARNESSING HYPERFIXATIONS. My most controversial take, but I think if your brain is desperately hungry to do This One Cool Thing Today, it's a good idea to let it. Even if that means you spend the whole day drawing fanart or bingewatching a show or baking croissants instead of Getting Work Done, the benefits you reap from just letting your brain tap into the rare Infinite Dopamine Opportunity usually outweigh any and all work slowdowns that result from taking the impromptu day off. When your brain works in the ADHD way, your enthusiasm is a vital fuel to keep it running. You need to have energy and joy in your life, energy and joy to spare and spend on things that may not be inherently energizing. If you have the option to spend a day doing something ridiculously fun, fill up that tank and reap the productivity benefits for the next week straight.

[luwha]

LMAO so, recently someone tried to SCAM me, so i'll show you what happened and the telltales of it being a scam.

This one is quite obvious but i know people who are just starting their artist careers and might not have experiece.

Follow the thread:

🚩#1: They pick your most famous/Popular art as reference. They don't know what you actually sell.

🚩#2: They will pick a random popular character. They're not roleplayers or anything. They're not here for the art in any level

You ask me, what are the odds they really like Goku? Oh, well, you'll see. At this point i check their profile for anythign that might indicate it, but as you'll see you won't have to.

🚩#3: They say they saw my ToS. On it i state i only work with paypal and google forms.

🚩#4: Random issue with payment method. They might have a real problem with it, but see; they'll never ever accept any other payment method, such as Zelle, CashApp, Payoneer, Ko-fi, etc.

I already knew this drill so, let's continue.

🚩#5: I love playing dumb lmao. Anyway, this scam revolves on them either sending you "too much money" and asking it back or something like it. I won't be following through because i know it'll be annoying.

BE ADAMANT WITH YOUR METHODS. Do NOT EVER bend them for randos.

🚩#6: They're so ready with the info on how the payment works it's fucking funny.

The reason I PERSONALLY use PayPal INVOICES (no any other payment within paypal) is that they're safe for both me and my client. My rules are stated clearly.

MAKE A ToS I BEG YOU YOUNG ARTIST

🚩#7: They're not even a good scammer lmao they REFUSE to go on my PROFILE to get a link or read anything.

I use Forms because it collects the client requests and it's easier for me to read it all in one place. It ALSO makes scammers bored.

🚩#8: They're so disinterested on the art they don't care for posing, vibes, colors, nothing. Again, they're NOT here for art. That's hilarious.

🚩#8: Same as above. They don't care for posing or anything.

On my art they link me, i have a vampire almost staking himself in a state of euphoria.

IMAGINE VAMPIRE GOKU STAKING HIMSELF THAT'S SO FUCKIGN FUNNY MY BRO, THINK YOUR SCAM THROUGH MAYBE

🚩#9: They will price your own work for you. And they'll overshot what we, smaller artists, charge for it.

They'll overshot by a lot.

They want you to be impressed and showing "generosity" usually gets people who need monay into risky situations. That's just plain cruel.

🚩#9: Same as above. Over generosity and eagerness to pay.

They're not even with the sketch, this haven't been an hour, they don't have any work form me but OH GOD they're SO READY to pay you NEED TO KNOW they WANTS TO PAY YOU SO BAD

Lmao yeah it's working out ❤️

THIS ONE IS JUST HILARIOUS BRO I CAN'T EVEN.

ANYWAY let's continue

🚩#10: They don't know me. They don't follow me. They broke every rule on my ToS. They're making me go through a payment method i am unfamiliar and don't use.

They don't care for my process. They're not interested on my sketch.

BE. ADAMANT. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES. AND. PROCESS.

Now, for the beautiful closure of this:

Have a ToS. Don't bend the rules for randos.

Use Invoices. Be sure you're safe.

Use forms if you'd like. Requests through DM and Discord ARE COMMON FOR OTHER ARTISTS. I personally don't like it, i have ADHD.

Being an artist on an online space is dangerous. If you need help, poke an artist you know, see how they operate and if it fits you. Most of them would help you.

🚩#11: goku isn't even on their icon 😭

This is the account that tried to scam me.

#art is life ❤️

[aquaholicsanonymousworld]

Okay call me insane for requesting this but I have a Jack Abbott idea that popped into my head after seeing your most recent soap cod writing. What if the reader comes into the pitt with minor injuries but still need to be bandages up & she’s Jack’s young wife so when the current doc treating her comments something like ‘oh actually we have a doc named Abbott too’ and asks if that’s her dad. The same time he walks in insists on being the only one to treat her. That pisses him off but the reader teases him & calls him daddy 🫣 (sorry my adhd is on a roll & I didn’t proof read this so hope that makes sense. Ok bye!) *mwah* 💋

bisous! enjoy daddy abbott!

Dr. Daddy

Pairing: Dr Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: You came into The Pitt with a few minor injuries. Nothing serious — a couple scrapes, a nasty bruise, and a whole lot of pride damage after slipping on iced coffee in front of a packed elevator. You were fine. What wasn’t fine? The resident patching you up just asked if Dr. Jack Abbott was your dad. And he asked it right as your husband walked in the room.

“I’m just saying,” Whitaker shrugged as he unwrapped a roll of gauze, “we have another Dr. Abbott here. Older guy. Real serious type. I think he’s in trauma. You guys must be related, right?”

You blinked. And then you grinned.

“Related?” you echoed, tilting your head as he dabbed antiseptic across your elbow.

He nodded. “Yeah — I mean, he’s probably old enough to be your dad. Kinda has that strict professor thing going on.”

You pressed your lips together, hard, to keep from laughing. Because right on cue, the door behind him swung open.

And in walked Dr. Jack Abbott, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked directly on you.

“Out,” he said, curt and low.

Whitaker blinked, turning halfway. “Sorry—sir?”

Jack stepped fully into the room now, standing straight, a little too calm. “I’ll take over. She’s not a patient to be handed off.”

You watched as Whitaker's face went from confusion to realization to full-blown oh-no-I-just-stepped-in-it.

“I—uh—I didn’t know—” he stammered. “I thought maybe she was your—”

“My wife,” Jack snapped.

Silence.

Whitaker muttered something like “I’ll update her chart” and bolted so fast he nearly left a puff of smoke behind. The door closed.

Jack didn’t move.

You stared at him for a long beat, then cracked a smile. “You know, he did say you had the strict professor vibe.”

He walked over to the sink, washed his hands with military precision, not even looking at you. “He asked if I was your father.”

You bit your lip. “He was trying to be polite.”

“He’s an idiot.” Jack picked up a fresh gauze pad and turned to you. His jaw was still tight, but you could see the heat behind his eyes now. “And if you ever let someone underqualified touch you again, I’ll—”

You cut him off, voice light, teasing. “What? Ground me?”

His gaze flicked up to yours, sharp.

You smiled, just enough to tip it over the edge.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, you leaned back a little on the table and purred, “Relax, daddy. He didn’t even get to the good parts.”

Jack froze.

You could see the moment it hit him. The twitch in his jaw. The shift in his posture.

His voice dropped half an octave. “You want to try that again?”

You raised your brows, innocently. “What? I was injured. I needed help. You’re always saying I should let people treat me with respect.”

“I said they should treat you like you matter,” he muttered, pressing gauze to your bruise a little harder than necessary. “Not call me your father in the middle of the ER.”

You grinned. “I didn’t say father. I said daddy. Big difference.”

He exhaled through his nose. “You are impossible.”

You leaned in. “And yet, you married me.”

Jack didn’t answer. Just taped the last piece of gauze with unnecessary precision and said, flatly, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Devastatingly cute,” you corrected, swinging your legs as he packed up supplies. “Now c’mon, daddy. Let’s get me out of here before you lose your medical license over a bruised ego.”

He turned, gave you a look that promised consequences — later.

And just before you left the room, he muttered, barely audible under his breath: “Call me that again when we’re not in a trauma bay.”

[hexjulia]

thinking about how many people hate doing chores like laundry ironing etc (for themselves! unfairly being expected to take care of everyone else's things is something completely different) and how in attempts to fix the resulting issues (piles of gross stuff etc) it's just framed as another thing to feel bad about not doing, which is not very encouraging under any circumstances -- but if the reason why things keep piling up is something like depression or adhd will make it about 10x as hard, because you likely already feel bad about yourself. And now looking at the piles comes with a lecture about getting your shit together and being an adult at the back of your head.

It's just not effective. It's the wrong reason. You shouldn't be cleaning because you're afraid of being shamed or because you feel guilty. That might work once every few months in a burst of manic chore energy but that's no way to live. The reason why I don't find these things exhausting to do is because it's just things I do to make myself comfortable, and it feels that way. When I'm ironing my clothes I look forward to wearing clean cozy warm clothes. I'm also daydreaming about 20 other things because I do have adhd and I'm maybe listening to an audiobook, but the emotion associated with doing my own laundry is something like ...contentment because I get to decide how exactly I want my clothes to smell and feel. It's largely just a positive emotion. I think the trick is getting yourself to be happy you get to make future you happy. That's a sustainable motivation you don't need shame or guilt for.

Also sometimes it's easy to underestimate how much a "small" sensory issue is making things hard. I hate touching dirty laundry, especially things like wet dishrags. I realised this was what made me want to avoid doing that specific bag of laundry and got some gloves. Now it's fine because I don't have to touch any wet and questionable textures. A lot of these accomodations might feel like overkill + you might not notice how much they bother you/contribute to putting things off until you pay attention and do something about it. If you think the scent bothers you a lot wearing a mask to empty the bin might help remove revulsion re: emptying the bin and so make that easier to motivate yourself into doing just wear one. Yeah it is overkill and not needed. But you don't want to accumulate trash inside because the smell would make you uncomfortable. If the goal is to avoid discomfort you should also eliminate the discomfort of the chore itself insofar possible! If your hands hurt easily from scrubbing things clean see if you can find a more effective cleaning agent or a cheap electric brush. If the sound of the vacuum bothers you even just a little put on headphones. There is no need to make this into some kind of guiltstriken spartan ordeal or only prevent discomfort if it's absolutely necessary for the task.

Chores are going to be a part of your days probably your entire life. It can be a comfortable experience associated with feeling cared for by yourself, feeling in control of how you live, a moment of quiet simple tasks and no deadlines. It doesn't have to feel bad. And if you fail at keeping up you aren't lazy or bad. You're just probably making yourself uncomfortable, but that's not a sin. And you can always change what you do to accomodate your needs.

[busket]

you can and you should be aware that "male/female socialization" is terf propaganda while also being aware of how your childhood gender affects you today, not for an activism reason but just for a better clarity and understanding of yourself, and no one else.

like I can recognize that a lot of the way that i am is because I grew up as a weird fat girl. I was bullied in ways that still affect my psyche and my view of myself. I was treated in ways that may not have happened if I were a boy, maybe my family and peers would have been more accepting due to their misogyny, maybe symptoms of my ADHD would have been more obvious if I were male and I could have gotten the help i needed. maybe I would have been celebrated and supported in ways that I was not because of the misogyny of the people around me.

HOWEVER!!!! I must also recognize that this is my individual experience and it doesn't reflect all trans men or all afab people! and I must not, under any circumstances, imagine the reverse of my situation and project it on to all amab people!! this is how the terf propaganda seeps in. I can be upset about my own childhood trauma when I was a cis girl, but I must never let that cause me to resent other people and assume their experiences. being raised as a girl does not make you an inherent victim. being raised as a boy that does not make you an inherent object of affection, or an inherent oppressor. this is gender essentialism which assumes everyone of the same biological sex has the same experiences and it's never been true.

[corevibeself]

𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓲𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓕𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮?

The energy of love that I have been feeling around me for the past month has been as intense as swallowing sugar by the buckets. I feel like my insides are turning pink. I'm now realizing my insides are already pink as I'm writing this. Anywho loved doing this reading xxxx

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 1 ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 2 ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 3

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 1

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜: 𝙈𝙮 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚 - 𝙈𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙠𝙞

Your future spouse is going to be such a best friend! The energy I’m getting from this reading is that you two might be mirroring each other. I like to say same vibe tribe because you’re vibrating at the same frequency—so if this sounds like you, that may be why.

Your future spouse is the kind of person who gets along with anyone as long as they’re kind and respectful. They steer way clear of drama-seekers and can’t stand judgmental people. They’re deeply empathetic, and I feel like they’ve had experiences that made them someone who stands up for others.

One specific scenario I saw (which may not apply to everyone, but still serves as an example) is that they might have a sibling with a disability who was made fun of, and that experience shaped them into this sensitive, socially aware person who cannot tolerate hate. They know judgment brings nothing but misery, and they refuse to contribute to it.

They’re incredibly compassionate and understanding. You never have to be afraid of making mistakes with this person because they don’t see mistakes as something to hold over you. To them, as long as you’re honest and open about where you’re coming from, that’s all they need. They believe real relationships are built on mutual understanding and vulnerability—and trust me, they walk the talk.

Emotionally mature? Check. Emotionally intelligent? Double check.

They’re also very opinionated, but not in a bad way. I’m seeing a situation where someone says something rude, and this person immediately shuts it down, defending you without hesitation. Or, let’s say you’re watching a reality show together, like Love Island—if they see something unfair, they will speak up about it. They’re passionate about fairness, kindness, and doing what’s right.

I also get the sense that they can be selfless to the point of giving more than they should. They know they have a tendency to take on too much, but at the same time, they don’t mind if it drains them—especially if it means helping someone they care about. Noble souls, they are.

This might also be why they spend a lot of time indoors. Not because they’re antisocial—more like their energy gets scattered easily. Honestly? Big neurodivergent vibes, possibly ADHD. They’ve got this huge heart, a million interests, and a natural tendency to care for others.

They’re what I’d call an introverted extrovert. They’re not shy, but people can drain them quickly. I wouldn’t be surprised if they work in the mental health field, something related to justice, or are super passionate about social justice in general.

And let me tell you—this person has your back in every sense of the word. If you’ve ever craved a connection where you’re fully understood, where you can be 100% yourself without fear of judgment—this is it. They’re exactly what you’ve been needing.

They just have this gift for making people open up. They see the beauty in others, in the world, and they bring so much balance. I wouldn’t be shocked if they have Libra in their chart—Libra rising, maybe?

Their energy is so sweet. I can see them genuinely asking how your day was, really listening because they truly care.

And honestly? If I could tell this person one thing, it would be to see how beautiful of a soul they truly are.

They feel like a modern-day knight. Hehehe.

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 2

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜: 𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 -𝙇𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙭

This person’s been through some tough shit, but I see them bippity-bopping their way out of it like the fairy godmother. They might’ve been through foster homes—I also had a vision of couch-hopping—so it could be that they’ve got lots of connections and friends who support them because their family may not. I just get the feeling they dealt with a lot of challenges in their childhood or teen years, and it sparked this change in them. Instead of turning to darkness and letting it define their whole life, they became a doer.

They just know how to grind, how to better themselves, and how to be a good person—which they are. They’re willing to do what it takes to heal. I don’t want to get graphic, but this person may have developed coping mechanisms in the past but has grown out of them.

They’re the type to drop anything they’re doing to help you if you needed it. And they have this way of surprising you. I literally just saw a vision of a guy in a store, minding his business, buying groceries or whatever, and then he just randomly sees something that reminds him of you. It’s a funny energy—like, he’s impulsive like that. He’ll just grab it and bring it back to you, and it’s something completely stupid. You’ll be like, “Why did you buy this stuffed penguin?” and he’ll just shrug and say, “It reminded me of you.” It’s cute, but like... what?! Hahahaha.

This person tends to suppress their emotions, unsure whether to communicate them or not, because they might have some fears around vulnerability. But trust that when they feel safe, they’ll open up to you.

I also kind of saw that this person might be loud (relatable AF). Not in a bad way—just very expressive. I feel like they were the class clown, secretly depressed because shit was bad at home, and teachers were like, “Why are you so loud?” No, but seriously—they’re hilarious. I felt very giggly during this reading.

This person has charm—like, their humour is their superpower. You really wouldn’t guess what they’ve been through because they’re such a ray of sunshine.

And kids? This person is hilarious with them. It’s like they can fully be themselves around children, or they just have this youthful energy no matter their age. If you’re into someone who brings the fun, is goofy but surprisingly deep—this is your person. Genuine. Authentic. I love ittttt.

ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕖 3

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜: 𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 - 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚

Daddy Vibes, HA! This person has a great drive—like, a very determined person. I see them getting up constantly, even if they keep falling. This has made them into someone that gives off major "They can do anything" vibes.

Need to kill a spider? Done. Craving something from the store late at night? They’ll do it so nonchalantly, like, I see them just going, "So what do you need?"—face blank AF.

Okay, if anyone is a K-pop fan, Yoongi from BTS totally gives these vibes. He’ll do things for you even if he doesn’t look happy doing it, but it’s not that he’s unhappy. It’s just that taking care of people comes so naturally to him that he doesn’t even see it as a big deal. That’s this person. It’s their role—to take care of you.

They have lots of goals. Like I said, they’ve got this drive. I see backup plan after backup plan after backup plan. Like, "This job isn’t for me? That’s fine. I also really like this. And if that doesn’t work, I have connections. I can travel. I know how to charm and talk to people. I have ways." That’s the energy they give.

Scattered AF, though, but they’re working on it. This person just always has money. You don’t gotta worry about them ever being a lazy bum. It’s not that they’re a millionaire—they’ve just healed their wound around security. They don’t see work as a passion; they see it as "I get this done so I can do my passions." And that’s awesome. Some people need to work in a field they’re passionate about, but this person? They just trust that the universe has their back so they can enjoy their passions, because their passions have nothing to do with work—and they’re fine with that.

If you’re the type of person that doesn’t wanna work your whole life, this person doesn’t mind working for you, honestly. Like, they love you.

They might come off a bit intimidating at first when y’all meet. They just have a good head on their shoulders because of past experiences. Don’t be afraid. I’m getting very mature vibes—like I said earlier... DAAAADDDYYYY.

Some of y’all may have daddy issues, like... that’s okay. So does 90% of the population—we’re on a healing journey here, HAHAHA.

This person looks ahead. They don’t get stuck in the past, so they won’t ever hold shit over your head. The past is the past. We grow as human beings. They’re open-minded and see things from other perspectives, which is so refreshing. Don’t be afraid to express your opinions or feelings—this person wants to help.

If you want a family, they’ll be an amazing father. Also, they might look like a working person. I’m seeing that if their job is physical, you can see it on them—like, maybe they smell like oil because they’re a mechanic. A job where you can literally see the results on them physically.

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

<3<3<3

AHHHH my first reading on here. To whoever reads this, I enjoyed doing this. I love everything about this. I'm so passionate, and I'm so grateful to whoever this reaches. XXXX

[drchucktingle]

On your blog you've talked about dealing with chronic as a result from the stress of masking your autism.

It's a bit of a different situation, but my little sister (who we've begun to suspect has adhd) has been experiencing chronic pain in her arms and legs. I may be totally off base, but I was wondering if a similar stess might potentially be a factor in her pain.

If you're willing, would you mind talking about how your pain affected before you found a way to manage it (I tried searching your tumblr, but not much came up, so sorry if I'm asking a question that's already been answered)?

Thanks either way, I love your books. Love is real!

sure buckaroo GOOD QUESTION. i have had chronic pain in some form or another for LONG TIME in a number of STRESS RELATED WAYS. in past it has been cracking teeth from clenching dang jaws while i sleep and things like that, but a few years ago it was FULL ON BODY PAIN AND TIGHTNESS like every muscle was clenching up. went to the doctor over and over all kinds of dang specialists and it was very difficult to figure out what was going on. eventually landed on a sort of nebulous trot of STRESS but i can get more specific.

there are several things about me that you would never know just from looking or even talking to me for long times. i am a bi buckaroo, i am a non-dysphoric trans buckaroo, i am an autistic buckaroo. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS IS EITHER HIDDEN AUTOMATICALLY OR I AM SUCH AN EXPERT AT HIDING THAT IT IS SECOND NATURE

autism presents its trot in many ways, so my words do not apply to all, but my version is EXTREME ORGANIZATION AND ENDLESS WORK ETHIC. in way of freud (which is a silly way but sometimes good for symbolism talk) i have what you would call an OVERDEVELOPED SUPER EGO which is a double edged sword. i can write 100s of books at an incredible pace, but also feel like my body is constantly collapsing in on itself

this is not really something i consciously think about much, but eventually these health problems started creeping up. it was all from carrying this mystery tension in my body, because while it feels EASY for me to mask i believe all that tension goes somewhere and it stores up and stores up and stores up.

so i think the HEALTHY way that i have found to deal with this (i think of it as releasing the steam valve a bit so the boiler does not break down) is ART. this space where i am allowed to be CHUCK TINGLE and write without obsessing over the spelling or punctuation, or to loudly express my queerness, or explore gender, and to let my neurotypical mask down DIRECTLY RELIEVES my chronic pain because it literally makes my muscles relax.

when i started out this ARTISTIC TROT as chuck i used a LOT of metaphor to keep my privacy, with different words or different versions of people for different things, and buckaroos found this very funny. as a way to express myself artistically i also liked this metaphor trot a lot, but i have also found that the LESS metaphor i paint over my life as chuck, the better it is for my health. if you have noticed, i talk less about some of the parts of my life that were metaphors, or maybe you have seen that my voice has relaxed a bit in interviews, or that i carry myself a little differently over time, this is partially why. (there is another artistic reason that was a planned trot from the beginning and it has to do with my feelings as a young autistic buckaroo of not fitting in on this timeline, but we can dive into that later).

anyway, as PRACTICAL ADVICE i would say that FINDING A SPACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF WITHOUT FEAR OR MASKING has been the number one trot for me. that can be a pink bag over your head writing hundreds of erotic shorts, or that can be just laying on the ground howling your heart out, or doing whatever stim you need to do.

i will also say that ONCE I REALIZED IT WAS MUSCLE TENSION getting a physical therapist helped a lot. because there are two sides, you have to start releasing steam from the steam valve, but at the same time youve also gotta start HEALING THE DAMAGE. so i think stretching and techniques like that can be very helpful.

hope that helps buckaroo LOVE IS REAL

[cherie-doll]

Jello! so ive been reading a lot of your works this week, they are so good holy hell! I love the way you write CoD characters in a way that doesn't mischaracterize them.

So I was wondering if you could do COD men dealing with a reader who has awful adhd burnout?? After months of being visibly "hyper" and talkative they just shutdown and sometimes tend to lay in bed for days on end, even not being able to eat cause they get so down? Its not like they are lazy but its obvious they get extremely mentally and physically drained?

This is one of my first ever requests so if u dont wanna do this that's alright, u can ignore this lol. I hope ur having a great day or week :P

woahhh, thank you!! im rlly happy you enjoy my hcs and how i write characters, it takes me a while but i see the effort is worth it :D <33

=͟͟͞♡ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

COD Men w/ Reader who has adhd burnout

:‹ Price would one day come home to find the house a little messy; maybe some chores haven't been done or there's just silence. He walks in to find you lying in bed, the tv isn't on, no music or any signs of you occupying yourself with anything. It seems you aren't asleep either though. He doesn't directly ask you why you haven't done anything, instead he greets you like usual; in his tender, loving way. He presses a kiss against your temple as he gently murmurs a greeting. You startle a bit, not having noticed him there. You thought it was still early morning, not having taken note of how the day went by and you couldn't get started on anything. It's always been a little difficult but at least you had some sort of initiative, now, you feel like you can't even think of what to do first. But he doesn't pressure you, instead enveloping you in a comfort you can recharge in.

:‹ Simon had picked up on your recent feelings of being overwhelmed; you had a hard time thinking and couldn't even do tasks. He had become cautious; not needing to ask or pry to know he had to provide some support for you. Even more when he noticed you didn't stay up an extra hour to enjoy your favorite hobby and instead went straight to sleep. It felt like you couldn't get enough rest, the night would pass by quickly and still your mind felt foggy; unable to clear for the next day ahead. Simon knew any small change would feel like too much for you right now, you could barely handle your current schedule. You just needed to recharge a bit, and he completely understood that. While he preferred staying productive he wouldn't push that onto you, if anything he would take care of some things until you felt ready to help too.

:‹ Johnny isn't great at reading you. He does his best at picking up cues on your behavior, but it really is difficult if you're just closing your eyes, trying to breathe without letting your emotions get the upper hand again. You've withdrawn; only switching from laying in bed, covered in blankets to your little space where you usually enjoy your hobbies like drawing, writing or listening to music.. but even that feels like too much. You can't even think clearly. You're so tired and you wish to sleep, but your dreams are restless and you wake up. Johnny misses you when you close up like this, he loves hearing you talk and go on for hours on end about your day or whatever other topics you ricochet to and from. But he is caring and considerate. He won't push anything onto you, or ask too many questions that might disturb you. He knows you've always been a hard worker, so he'll let you rest for a long time. And he'll be waiting to hear your enthusiastic voice again when you're feeling better.

:‹ Kyle would gently encourage you to ask for help if you feel like you really need it. Of course, he wouldn't say it right away, he would give you time and try his best to be the supporting partner that you need him to be. Eventually, out of worry he'll try to get you to talk about it with him or someone else if that's what you are most comfortable with. When you do try to take on tasks or things you need to do, he makes sure you take breaks and time to relax again if you are starting to get overwhelmed. The last thing he'd want is for you to get restarted on the cycle and go back to being unable to do anything. Not because he dislikes seeing you do nothing but because he knows how you get when you can't do anything. You almost blame yourself for feeling like this, and he wishes you could talk to him more about it. But he does what he can in helping you. He just wants you to feel alright.

:‹ Roach isn't much to talk and prefers to just sit in silence and admire you with puppy eyes when you talk. Literally how y'all spent quality time together. Naturally, he'd be alarmed at the fact that you've completely quiet and won't speak. It's been more than 24 hours and you're still in bed, not really turning to look at him and just staring into space or trying to sleep. At first, he may think you're upset at him, perhaps he did something wrong. But then he takes notice of the fatigue in your eyes, how you can barely answer him when he softly asks a question. You don't want to be treating him like this, but it's just so hard to regulate and let alone express how you feel right now. You can barely begin to describe this feeling before being able to form a sentence. Thankfully, he isn't one to take things to heart too soon because he places your feelings over his. He can see it has nothing to do with him by the way you let him lie close to you. You will be fine for now like this since he's so understanding.

:‹ Alejandro may find it hard to understand or see things from your perspective. You were fine a couple days ago; why the sudden change? You've been in this repeating cycle that you can't break out of and it has you sick. You try doing things for him, try to get yourself together but nothing is working. You can barely function and he notices this, thinks something is deeply wrong as it disturbs him to see you like this. He's immediately dropping anything he was planning on doing or asking of you to instead find out what's wrong. You weren't planning on really telling him and just shrugging him off but he asked if you needed anything and you hesitated. He can ready you pretty well so he nodded, as if there was an exchange of words in that silence. He told you to take it easy and encouraged you to rely on him as much as you needed to. It was refreshing to feel that coming from him.

:‹ Rodolfo would require some self control to not go overboard on the caretaking. He already likes doing everything for you, but when you're unable to get anything done it can be overbearing to see him want to solve everything as soon as he can. Your attempts to push him away make him realize that he needs to take a different approach. Yes, your health is important but he also needs to know how you feel. He takes a moment to listen to you if you feel ready to express your feelings. He tries to help you figure out what exactly is causing you to feel drained, maybe it was something that happened recently that you've been thinking about too much. Perhaps you just needed some time to winddown after being focused for so long on certain tasks. He still continues to care for you but also steps back some if you need some space to breath.

:‹ Phillip is always praising you for how well you treat him, all you do for him and nod along to anything you say. But feeling like you've been lacking in a department you can't quite name have taken over instead. It's not anything he's said or done that have necessarily made you feel this way. There's been no motivation to fuel you or keep you from even doing what you love. Since you can't get anything done you feel down and Phillip has taken notice. He can be soft and gentle with you. He'll ask why you haven't done something and it might make you feel worse but it truly wasn't his intention. If you don't answer he'll be okay with that too. He doesn't require a reason from you. He's always wanted you to be happy and content; it's been his motivation since you've gotten together. Obviously, he'd be wanting to intervene if he notices you being visibly upset.

:‹ Makarov isn't always around as much as you'd like him to be. So, it can sometimes be very confusing to him to leave with you being very talkative and energetic to coming back and you're suddenly very quiet. He notices how low energy you are, and he worries thinking you might be sick. It's not often he gets to see you like this unless something is wrong so he's asking what happened, if you've come down with something and might even suggest going to the doctor. Since he's noticed your physical signs of burnout he takes those as indications that you're sick. He takes more notice and worry about your headaches and pain rather than the way you clench your jaw or your obvious anxious self. Don't get him wrong, he wants to help but may not know how to give it correctly.

:‹ Keegan is used to seeing you be up and about; here and there switching from one activity to another. So he's never worried about keeping you occupied while he's away or busy. But seeing you so still and unmotivated makes him feel disturbed. Like there's something wrong but he can't put a finger on it. His mind won't immediately go to different possibilities, instead he'll want to take some sort of action but first he'll assess the situation. It's obvious there's something more troubling than just fatigue gnawing at you. You seem tired mentally too. Poor guy has been there before but he won't compare to how you feel. He values your feelings so much more and he won't ever fully know how you feel or think but the best he can do is try, right? He'll be as patient as he can to try and understand. And it's the most effort anyone has ever made for you.

:‹ König would get so worried if he noticed you weren't eating or taking care of yourself. Like you're so tired, you feel spent and can't seem to get an ounce of energy from sleeping, so you don't even bother getting up to grab anything to eat. You've only drank from the half empty water cups and bottles on your nightstand which have probably started to accumulate dust by now. König doesn't know what to do with you. He tries showing you his phone, silently asking if you want to order some takeout but you shake your head. You probably won't finish it, and you feel like it's unfair to him. He's not much of a cook but he manages to make something simple and leave it at your bedside to see if you'll at least nibble on it. You think he's waiting for you to get up soon but he stays beside you, keeping you company. He just wants to make sure you don't sink deeper and be alone during this.

:‹ Horangi knows how certain things may be difficult for you to do but that's why you two have a routine curated for you. So when he notices you acting so unusual he goes to address it right away. It's not done with the intention to get you working right away but rather to keep your feelings in check, since he knows it's likely feelings that have been brewing for some time. You've had to put in double the work and effort to be the person you are today, and he knows it wouldn't be fair to disregard your feelings to label you as "lazy" just because you feel overwhelmed. Perhaps things have been unbalanced for some time and that is why you're like this. He'll readjust anything to your current needs to get you to feeling better in no time. Won't ever overload you with responsibilities if you don't feel ready yet. He's your partner for a reason; he doesn't mind.

:‹ Nikto assumed you were coming down with a cold or something. He's not the best at noticing things, if he slows down and cares enough to pay attention you'll find that he can be quite observative at times though. "You're not sick", he'll say standing at your bedside after you've skipped dinner again. You would at least reach out for the warm tea that he has offered, but you can't bring yourself to touch the mug and leave it to cool on the nightstand. He asks if you want to do something and you say you're not in the mood when usually you'd pounce at the opportunity to do anything with him. He can't help but feel a little wounded, but this is no time to wallow in his feelings when clearly you've got more of those than he does. He's not good enough with words to provide encouragement or give you a burst of energy through communication. But his silent attempts of aid should work with time.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Finding Yourself - C.SC [Part 2]

🐢Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🐢What: 18+. Dark themes. Mafia au. Angst. Fluff. Suggestive. Slow burn. Mafia Boss Seungcheol. Single parent Seungcheol. Strangers to friends to lovers. Chan is reader’s little brother. Hansol is Seungcheol’s son. 🐢Word count: 21k 🐢Warnings: Characters with autism/ADHD. Selective mutism. Mentions and depictions of being overwhelmed/sensory overload and meltdowns. Degrading language, including mental disability slur. Gang typical content: threats, violence, torture, weapons, injury, blood, morally fucked up characters, mentions of past forced sex work. Mentions of being branded. Suggestive content & sexual conversations. Brief misunderstanding. 🐢Summary:“In an attempt to protect your little brother, you run away from home and the gang your father forced you into as a teenager.

You truly thought you were done with that life. But months later, when members of the Centaurs gang find you and your brother squatting in their property mid gang-fight, they take you back to their headquarters and force you right back into it.

Suddenly, you find yourself living in the home of the leader of the oldest, most famous gang in the entire country, and you very quickly realise that he isn’t the ruthless monster everyone thinks he is.”

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist Finding Yourself Part 1 – Finding Yourself Part 3

Disclaimer: Okay, so I feel like I need to point out that I do have both autism and ADHD, and I have done a lot of research around both during my own discovery/diagnosis periods; even now I’m constantly learning that more aspects of myself are very common in people with autism/ADHD so there is truth behind how the characters are portrayed in this fic. Yet, with that being said, both autism and ADHD are very vast in that you can have a room full of people with both disabilities and yet every single one of those people are incredibly different, which means that the characters in this story who have autism or ADHD are not accurate portrayals of every single person with either. There are 4 clearly stated autistic people in this fic throughout and they are each different personalities and how their disability affects them. So please don’t leave comments or send rude asks accusing me of misrepresentation or anything like that just because a character you’ve watched in a movie isn’t written the same as these characters, thanks.

Although most of your time over the following weeks is spent with Seungkwan as the two of you watch over the boys while they learn and play together, you feel like your time with Seungcheol feels like more somehow.

Maybe it’s because it’s always just the two of you in his office, side by side on the loveseat together, to discuss everything you know about the Vultures and how Seungcheol can take them apart so severely that they’ll never put themselves back together again. Maybe it’s because you both quickly lose track of time as you talk bent over his notebook together for hours. Maybe it’s because even when he closes the notebook and declares his brain is too fried to talk work any longer, you remain side by side on the couch to talk about everything and anything that comes to mind. Maybe it’s because the first time that you don’t stop yourself from flexing your hands when you start to get overloaded, Seungcheol notices and doesn’t stop you, just silently closes the notebook before shutting the study door and opening the window to let the cool night air in with the subtle sounds of nature to help you relax.

Ever since the first time Seungcheol saw your stimming, he’s paid closer attention to the signs and often reaches out to stop you from sitting on your hands or pressing your legs down so that you don’t bounce them. He silently encourages you and even keeps fidget toys on the coffee table now for you to play with as the two of you work and doesn’t tell you to sit down when you get up to walk around or pace sometimes. He just carries on talking and always manages to land his eyes on you when he looks up as if he’s keeping track of you in his periphery.

It’s the first time anyone has ever taken the time to see you; to understand and let you just exist as you’re supposed to. You don’t think you’ve even given yourself such care before. But thanks to Seungcheol’s gentle encouragement and silent support, you think you’re starting to find yourself little by little.

“Hey- oh,” Seungcheol greets as he walks into his study one evening and finds that you’ve rearranged the furniture. “Uh, what happened in here?”

“It was wrong,” you declare, as you frown at the study while looking around it in dissatisfaction. “It still is.” You huff and go back to moving the heavy desk for the third time.

“Alright, there’s clearly something here,” Seungcheol walks over and tugs you away from the desk to hold your hands, even as you tug slightly in a weak attempt to free yourself. You’re not sure what you want right now: if you’re okay with the touch or would rather he be across the room. “What’s going on, is something wrong, sweetheart?”

“I told you; it’s wrong. Everything is wrong, Seungcheol.”

“The room? We can move the furniture as much as you want if that’s what you need right now, but I don’t think it is.” You pull your hands from his hold with a huff and return to the desk.

For a few minutes, Seungcheol silently stands and watches you adjust the desk in such tiny increments that he really wouldn’t even know you’ve moved it if he hasn’t got his attention glued to you. When he sees you lift and lower one end a few times without changing the desk to a different position, he suddenly thinks he understands and hums.

“Come on,” he says, walking over to take your hand into his. You look at him with a frown. “I think I know what will help, come on.” Although you’re confused, you trust the man, so you obediently follow him with your hand in his.

It’s now that you suddenly realise the truth of that; that even though you’ve only known him less than two months, you trust Choi Seungcheol; the big, bad boss of the most feared gang in the country.

Of course, you know that he’s no saint by any means, he’s come home with bloodied knuckles and other people’s blood speckled on his neck where he hasn’t noticed it when clearing up before coming into the manor. You know he can be ruthless and vicious, but he’s also the most understanding and accepting person you’ve ever met, and he’s raising the sweetest little boy. Seungcheol really can’t be a truly bad person to have such a caring son as Hansol.

The realisation that you would blindly follow this man without question makes you stop in your tracks in pure shock, despite being on the stairs.

Seungcheol immediately comes to a still a few steps in front of you and turns to look up at you worriedly. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I trust you,” you mutter.

Seungcheol blinks a few times, dumbstruck by the sudden admittance before he walks up the steps until he’s on the one below you and looking at you with something strange on his features and in his shining eyes that you really don’t understand. “Yeah?” You nod in confirmation without an ounce of hesitation. Seungcheol smiles and lifts his hand off the banister to gently brush your overgrown hair out of your eyes. “That makes me really happy to hear, sweetheart. I trust you too.”

“I didn’t realise I trust you until now. I don’t think I’ve ever trusted someone like this before. It’s weird.”

“Like what?”

“So quickly and completely.”

“You trust me completely?” You nod. “With everything? With Squirt?”

“His name is Chan,” you inform simply; information that none of them know despite the pair of you having lived in the manor for almost two months now.

Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide in genuine astonishment. “I didn’t think we’d ever know.”

“They don’t. You do.”

“Just me?” You nod. “Oh, sweetheart.” He lets out a breath and cups your cheek for a moment before he lowers his hand again. “Come on.” Seungcheol turns and leads you down the stairs to grab your shoes and coats to put on at the back door before going outside.

When you’re standing side by side at the playground barely lit by the moon overhead, he lets go of your hand and walks over to the huge metal framework to start climbing.

You remain in place and watch him bewilderedly until he looks at you from a couple of metres off the ground with a grin. “Come on, climb with me.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” It’s not normally a convincing argument, but when Seungcheol says it, it seems like enough, and you find yourself walking over to start climbing.

Your movements are timid at first, you don’t think you even climbed much as a child, and you’re still recovering from months of little food and lack of real exercise, so it’s harder than it should be for you to pull and push yourself along the bars and ropes.

But after a while, you look up to find Seungcheol and when you notice his soft smile on you, you realise that you’re smiling too. “Come on, you can almost see over the wall from the top!” He enthuses and turns to keep climbing to the sheltered platform at the very top, leaving him mostly in the shadows once inside.

When you clamber into the shelter a few minutes later, he’s laid on a blanket with a pillow under his head and another at his side. He pats the blanket on his right, so you crawl over and lay down curled up on your side facing him. From his left, he grabs another blanket and lays it out over the both of you before settling on his side to face you.  

“Feel better?” He asks softly when you’re both comfortable.

“I needed to climb?” You ask.

“I think you just needed to put your body to use. That’s why you were moving stuff and kept lifting the desk up and down; to use your muscles. I don’t suppose you do much of that other than carrying Chan. Maybe that’s part of the reason you like carrying him so much, actually.”

“Oh, maybe,” you agree. “That would make sense. I used to train and stuff before leaving so I’m not used to doing so little.”

“We have a home gym, state of the art and everything, you can use it whenever you want, Pearl.” You stare at him for a moment before stating your name, earning a confused look. “Who’s that?”

“Me.”

“You?” You nod. “Oh…oh, that’s your real name.” You hum in confirmation. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.” He shuffles a little closer and takes your hand from where it lays on the blanket between you. “It means a lot to me that you do, more than I can put into words. I’m really fucking happy you trust me so much.”

“I think I’m happy too,” you admit. “It’s like I have a friend.”

“What? Sweetheart,” he frowns and let’s go of your hand to slide his hand up your arm and then to your back to pull you closer, right to his chest.

You’ve never done this before, cuddled, not with anyone other than Chan. You quickly decide that you like it and shuffle closer to tuck your face into his neck while putting your right arm around his waist.

Seungcheol curls his arm around you and turns his head down to kiss the top of your head. “I am your friend, we all are. There’s no like a friend at all, we are.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’ve always wanted friends.”

“And you have us, for as long as you want us.”

“A long time would be nice.”

“It really fucking would.”

The very next night after had Seungcheol taken you out to the climbing frame, when you enter his office expecting to be empty as he usually arrives after you, he’s already there.

For the first time in two months, you see him wearing sweatpants and a matching, unzipped hoodie, showing the black compression shirt clinging to his firm torso underneath. You’re too thrown off to do anything but stare from the doorway at the sight of the man in such casual clothing when he’s usually always ready to leave the house for work purposes or just back from work; sometimes in suits, sometimes in neat jeans and dark t-shirts, and sometimes in his expensive motorbike leathers.

“What?” He asks where he’s leaning back against his desk in wait with his palms on the edge either side of his hips.

“Never seen you casual,” you answer, coming back to reality, and start to edge towards the seating. Though he chooses now to push off the desk and pick up the material that had been hiding behind him to toss to you, so you’re forced to stop in your path to catch it. “What’s this?”

“Figure you don’t have any workout clothes, so I got some today. Kinda guessed your size, so if it’s wrong, it’s your own fault for wearing baggy trousers and crewnecks all the time.”

“They’re comfy,” you mumble in defence while adjusting the cool material in your hands to take in the matching leggings and sports bra in black, other than the coloured stripes around the top of the thighs. You blink at it dumbly for a moment, then look at him incredulously.

“What?”

“Are you a pervert, Seungcheol?”

In an instant, his eyes turn even wider than normal, and his face visibly warms. “What?! No!”

“I assume you expect me to wear this and work out with you, based on your own outfit.”

“Why does that make me a pervert?! I asked the woman what typical woman’s workout gear is and she told me that’s the most popular set! Blame her!” He gestures pointlessly, flicking his arms out as if to motion to a woman who isn’t even present.

“And you didn’t once look at this and consider that I will essentially be topless and wearing a second set of skin on my legs? I don’t even know if I can wear underwear under this kind of material.”

Seungcheol chokes on his sudden inhale, earning a questioning look from you. “I-I’m fine.”

“You’re red again.”

“Shut up!” He stalks past you out of the room suddenly, only to backtrack and offer his hand while keeping his pink face directed away from you. He looks so childlike and cute that it makes you giggle before accepting his hand and holding the clothes to your chest while he leads you out of his office and down the stairs.

Although you’ve been all over the manor at this point, just to learn where all the hallways lead in case of emergency, you’ve never been down into the basement after learning that it’s just storage and the gym with no sensible exits, only tiny windows along the tops of the outer rooms, meaning you’ve had no reason to go down there until now.

Despite being curious about the layout and what the rooms and halls you pass contain, you focus on Seungcheol and his quick steps as he leads you through the barely lit basement. You can’t tell if the path is so engrained into him that he doesn’t need more lighting to find his way, or if his eyesight is just much more reliable than yours in the dull light.

You’re mostly relying on your hearing to tell you when you enter different spaces, with your eyes glued to Seungcheol’s hand in your own and your feet in your peripheral so that you don’t trip. When the echoes of your steps give away that this room you’ve just entered is much larger and far more open than the halls and smaller rooms you’ve walked through to get here, you correctly guess that you’ve entered the gym.

Though Seungcheol doesn’t pause or turn on a light, he continues forward, slippers slapping across the linoleum, until he stops to open a door and urge you inside.

Finally, he turns on a light and you have to blink and squint for a few seconds to grow accustomed to the sudden white light. Only then are you able to peer around and understand that you’re now standing just inside of a changing room, with lockers along one wall and exposed showers at the back behind you.

“Okay, get changed and come back out. It’s just us here and I promise I’m not going to come in unless you call me, okay?”

“Why would I call you?” You give him a bewildered look before turning to walk to the benches in the centre of the room and put the clothes down.

“If you get hurt or something.”

“I think I’m perfectly capable of getting changed without hurting myself.”

“Right, right, okay, whatever, just get changed and come out,” he decides while waving one hand dismissively before backing up, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Not wanting to make Seungcheol wait around, you quickly change into the leggings and sports bra while wondering how Seungcheol managed to accurately guess your clothes size. At least, based on the tag he correctly guessed your size, because even though the sports bra fits fine, the leggings are practically trying to absorb themselves into your skin and you have to remove your underwear to gain the extra little space to fit them more comfortably over your ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter while looking at your reflection and taking in how tight the material is on you. You’ve never been a fan of such tight clothing simply because you don’t like feeling so constricted, but at least the material is soft enough that you think you’ll be able to handle this long enough to work out and then never force yourself into again.

Part of you wants to change back into your own clothes and tell Seungcheol that there’s no way you can wear this, but the other part of you doesn’t want to disappoint him by not wearing the clothes he went out of his way to buy for you. You figure after all the man has done for you over the past two months, the least you can do is wear the outfit.

You’ve never been self-conscious about your body; it’s not something you’ve ever much cared about, others perception of your physical body, yet today you hesitate before opening the door as a strange little concern of what Seungcheol will think of your body flashes through your mind. Thankfully, it truly is only a rapid worry and goes as soon as it arrives, so you don’t hover any longer than a second before leaving the changing room.

“People really wear this stuff regularly?” You wonder, drawing Seungcheol’s attention from where he’s arranging equipment on the open matted area, the only area he’s turned the lights on for.

“Yeah, that’s-” he cuts off abruptly when his eyes land on you while you approach him.

You see his lips move and can’t tell if he’s saying something to himself too quietly for you to hear or just imitating a fish. Either way, he looks ridiculous with once again wide eyes and his arms slowly dropping downwards as his hands grow lax.

It seems as if he’s somehow forgotten that he’s got a 1kg dumbbell in each hand and only remembers when one of them lands on his sock clad foot. “Fuck!” He exclaims, doubling over until he’s lowered to the mats with his hands clutching the impact site on the top of his right foot.

“Least it was only light,” you comment as you stop beside him, your slippers left next to his own at the side of the mats.

“The fucking corner landed on bone,” he grunts. You eye the bright green, hexagonal weight, and reason that yeah, that would hurt, even if it is made of neoprene as opposed to metal.

After a few moments of just standing in wait while watching him, Seungcheol straightens up with his hands on the tops of his thighs to look at you. Though he quickly looks away and removes his hoodie to toss at you.

“Please put that on for my sanity,” he pleads awkwardly.

“You’re red again,” you comment while you do as he asked and pull on his hoodie to zip up. It stops at your mid-thigh and past your hands. “This is a safety hazard, surely.”

Seungcheol looks at you as you flap the sleeves. His pinched expression smooths out and a gentle smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “A cute one at least.”

“I don’t think the cuteness of a hazard makes it any better, Seungcheol,” you point out, looking at him flatly.

He laughs softly and gets up to step closer to you and picks up one of your arms. “No, but it’s what we’re dealing with,” he reasons as he folds up the sleeve to the middle of your forearm to free your hand, then swaps to repeat on your other arm. You quietly watch him work, unaware that his gaze isn’t even on the material he’s handling but instead glued to your curious expression while his own is nothing but fond.

After an hour of Seungcheol refusing to let you do anything too arduous, he declares the work out over and guides you through a cool down that doesn’t do much to deter the rabbiting of your heart when the attractive man is still insisting on physically guiding you.

For the past hour, Seungcheol has been right by your side; manually adjusting you with his hands on your body and intense eyes tracking your form to make sure that you’re not about to hurt yourself by positioning yourself wrong. You’ve tried to tell him that you know how to do it all properly, you did more taxing exercises than this daily back when you were a Vulture, yet the stubborn ass doesn’t accept your words and reminds you that you’re months out of practice, before moving you into the next exercise.

To your relief, he deems you sufficiently cooled down, despite your pink cheeks, and lets you get up and grab a bottle of water from the drinks fridge to start swallowing the contents down.

“Aren’t you going to work out?” You ask a few seconds later as you watch him tidy up from a safe distance out of his reach.

You’re not an idiot, you know that Seungcheol is a beautiful man; you’ve known that from before you even met and simply had the knowledge confirmed the first time you laid eyes him in person. But you’ve met plenty of attractive men in your life and you’ve never felt your heart race just because their hands gently correct your posture, or their eyes remain focused on you intensely with nothing inappropriate in the dark shine.

That probably makes it even worse; that Seungcheol wasn’t even checking you out or trying to cop a feel. He was genuinely just trying to help and get you healthy again, like he always does.

Maybe his touch might’ve lingered a few times, but you refuse to assume that it was him wanting to touch you and not just that your perceptions of what a reasonable time frame is, differs from his own. You don’t want to think anything inappropriate of the man who has been nothing but kind and understanding to you, you don’t want to cross any boundaries even in your mind.

So even though this is the first time you’ve genuinely felt yourself gain even a little attraction to anyone, you push it down and do your best to ignore the way it’s impossible to miss his bulging arms in the short sleeves of his compression shirt and the way it makes heat tingle in your lower stomach.

“Hm?” Seungcheol replies, looking over at you briefly, then back to stacking the colourful dumbbells on a little rack that doesn’t match the rest of the black and silver equipment.

Suddenly, you wonder if he had bought more than just the clothes for you today while you thought he was out working. It doesn’t help your newfound attraction in the man to think about it; that he really did go out of his way purely for you, so you push that thought aside too.

“Aren’t you going to work out?” You repeat your question.

“I work out in the mornings.”

“Then you wore that just to show off,” you deduce and bite back a laugh as Seungcheol almost trips on the resistance band he’s picking up. “You’re very clumsy for a legendary Choi Centaur.”

“I’m not!” He argues, turning away in a manner you can only describe as sulky, to stalk over to the unit and shove the bands in the containers.

“You dropped a dumbbell on your foot and just almost tripped on a resistance band.”

“Not my fault,” he mumbles poutily and picks up the last item to put away. “Grab your stuff so we can go get a snack. Then you can change, and we can go back to my office and work on the plan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Seungcheol trips over his own slippers.

For the past few weeks, Seungcheol has allowed you to leave the manor grounds to go out into the middle wall where the Centaurs mostly work from and keep supplies, protected by the two walls around the ring of warehouses and buildings.

At first, he had shown you around with the intention of letting you know how he runs things and what he has at his fingertips so that you can accurately make suggestions of how he can take apart your father’s gang. 

But then once you entered the garage where the head mechanic was swearing at his team for messing up a basic task again, and the short man had rhetorically asked a question about which tool to use for a task, you had answered. More to yourself, but Seungcheol heard and called the head mechanic over.

When Seungcheol queried the mechanic about what the correct tool was, Jihoon had responded with a quip about his team not even knowing basic mechanical skills despite knowing much more complex stuff, and then the tool name. Seungcheol had pretty much handed you over to the mechanic then and there, wished you luck with Jihoon’s temper, then left the pair of you to figure out where to go from there.

Judging by the way Seungcheol grumbles when you turn up late to your workouts and meetings after being introduced to Jihoon, you don’t think Seungcheol intended for you and Jihoon to become friends.

After that first meeting, Jihoon often calls you out to the garage to assist him; he says he prefers your straightforward approach and focus than his team’s puttering, and you enjoy the time with the mechanic too much to care about Seungcheol’s grumping.

Your father never really allowed you to do stereotypically masculine things such as getting your hands dirty or even learning theoretical knowledge on how cars work; though you still did your own research and hungrily consumed every drop of information you could. So being able to finally scratch that curious itch about mechanics makes something within you brighten and lighten, which means as far as you’re aware, Seungcheol can sulk all he wants; you’re never going to turn down Jihoon when he asks for your assistance or offers to let you watch and learn.

“What the fuck are you doing with that?!” Jihoon yells when he notices one of his mechanics touching Seungcheol’s favourite motorbike from across the garage to where the two of you are sitting on the ground. There’s an engine sitting on a mat in front of you so that he can more accurately explain how it all works while pointing out the different parts, for today’s lesson.

The two men abruptly back away from the motorbike but Jihoon is already getting up to stalk over and grab a rag to whip it at them harshly. Only when they apologise and repeatedly bow rapidly does he tell them to get lost and then turn to buff out their greasy fingerprints from the sleek, cherry red paint job, grumbling under his breath as he goes.

Now that Jihoon is across the garage and you’re not listening to him talking, you can hear a couple of the mechanics talking between themselves a little behind you at the car they’re working on. You don’t really pay any attention though until you hear “the kid” and tilt your head ever so slightly to focus on their low voices and spy on them from your peripheral.

“Seriously, should just get rid of him, I ain’t gonna bow to a retard when the boss dies,” one grunts. Your jaw immediately clenches, and anger starts to simmer in your veins.

“Shut up, man, you can’t say shit like that,” the other warns and to your relief, he actually sounds like he’s truly scolding the man and not just trying to prevent him getting in trouble.

“Why not?” The first man asks with a scoff. “Who’s gonna stop me? Boss ain’t here, Woozi’s across the garage and I doubt that dumb bitch is even listening.”

“Fuck off, she’s smarter than you. She caught your mistake yesterday; that’s the only reason you’re calling her names. Well, that and she’s not interested in you, got your back up, huh?”

“Reckon she’s fucking the boss; that’s the only reason she’s here.” He grunts as he adjusts something under the bonnet.

“None of our business.”

“Whatever, just as long as she don’t pop out another retard like that annoying fucking kid.”

That’s as much as you can handle.

You get up and turn to approach. Both men are entirely unaware of your presence until you grab the back of the second man’s overalls to yank him out of the way. He stumbles back with a yelp and the first man looks over curiously, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes fly wide in panicked shock when you knock down the prop holding the bonnet up and then pull it down harshly onto him with a resounding thud while he screams in pain.

“What the fuck?!” Jihoon exclaims and runs over to pull you back and lift the bonnet up to free the man, who immediately slinks to the floor while writhing in pain with his hands on his back. “Why the fuck did you do that, Pearl?!” Jihoon yells, turning burning eyes on you.

“He was shit talking Solie,” you answer, glaring at the man.

Immediately, Jihoon’s anger at you is directed to the man. “What?” He hisses.

“She-she’s lying!” The man wails. “C-crazy bitch!”

Jihoon steps closer and shoves the man over onto his front with his foot before pressing it down on the impact spot from the edge of the bonnet, where the man is gripping, making him scream in pain. “Don’t you fucking dare call her that,” Jihoon warns lowly and takes his phone from his pocket. “Coups will want to deal with this personally.”

“No, no, p-please, Woozi,” the man pleads through sobs while trying to remove Jihoon’s foot from his back. Jihoon just pushes down harder until there’s an audible crack, making the man wail louder, as he lifts his ringing phone to his ear.

It only takes a few rings for the call to be picked up, then Jihoon speaks. “Hey, Coups, you’re gonna wanna come here, got something for you to handle.” That’s all he says before waiting a second for a response then he hangs up and tucks his phone back into his overalls pocket. “Clear the garage,” Jihoon orders, looking over at the second man, who simply nods before rushing off to tell all of the other mechanics to make themselves scarce.

“Won’t he try to run?” You comment when Jihoon moves away from the man to inspect the slightly dented bonnet.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him,” Jihoon replies with a shrug then looks at you with a little smirk. “But also judging by the fact this is bent; I think you slammed it on him hard enough that moving that much is going to be too fucking painful. Didn’t know you had it in you, Pearl.”

“Say what you want about me, I don’t care, but talk about an innocent kid like that, especially Solie, I’m not going to let that go.”

“Good, proves you’re one of us, unlike that piece of shit.” Jihoon glares at the sobbing man on the floor. He’s still laid crying on his stomach as if he’s either given up trying to move or simply can’t. 

It’s almost ten minutes before Seungcheol arrives from around the other side of the middle wall where he had been meeting new recruits with Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo is the man in charge of organising all of Seungcheol’s men while Soonyoung is in charge of training them; something that still surprises you based on how innocent and upbeat Soonyoung always seems in the manor. You’ve never seen him outside of the inner wall, but you can only imagine he’s a completely different man.

In fact, you think the only man who is pretty much the same in the manor and out here is Jihoon. Sure, he plays with Hansol and Chan, and he laughs with everyone in the house a lot more than out here, but he is still to the point and no nonsense in both places. You like that about him; his consistency and that there’s no pointless guessing with him. You always know what he wants and expects because he’s straightforward about it.

Seungcheol enters the garage alone with a dark, intimidating scowl already on his face knowing that something has to have gone wrong for Jihoon of all people to call him away from work. “What happened?”

“This fuckwit decided to shit talk your son,” Jihoon informs bluntly, arms crossed over his chest casually where he’s leaning against the car beside the bonnet, which no longer closes properly.

“I-I didn’t,” the man on the floor sobs. “P-please.”

“Woozi doesn’t fuck around when it comes to family,” Seungcheol growls while turning the man over onto his back before yanking him up from the ground by the front of his overalls, making him scream in pain. “What the fuck have you done to him already to make him like this?” Seungcheol wonders, looking over at Jihoon, then shaking the man pointedly to make him cry out again without moving his lower body at all, only his arms that scramble to grip Seungcheol and try to fruitlessly pry his strong grip away.

“Pearl slammed the bonnet on him,” Jihoon smirks, motioning to the dent at his side.

Seungcheol looks over at you. “You paralysed him?”

“That was likely a joint effort, Woozi stood on his back,” you reply rationally. “He was moving before then.”

“Good point,” Jihoon agrees. “We both had a part in it.”

“Only been out here for two weeks and you’re already teaming up to fuck up people’s lives,” Seungcheol mutters, giving the pair of you a look as if he’s not sure he quite approves of this new teamwork, yet he doesn’t say anything more and instead looks back at the man in his hold. “Alright, they started it but I’m going to finish it.”

“Please don’t kill me,” the man begs, practically choking out the words.

“Oh, that would be too kind, I want you to live and suffer,” Seungcheol replies sweetly and drops the man to the floor abruptly, earning echoed screams of pain. “Sweetheart, you should go wait outside.”

“Why?” You question as you watch Seungcheol drag the man over to the drain before lowering to his knees and pulling a butterfly knife from his pocket while the man whimpers and continuously begs for mercy.

“Because this isn’t going to be pretty.”

“As if I’m innocent,” you remind with a scoff while folding your arms over your chest.

Seungcheol lets out a sigh then motions to the man as Jihoon stops behind him with a blow torch, a small piece of flat metal and a pair of heat safe gloves. Jihoon nods and kneels down to make sure the man stays in place while Seungcheol gets up and walks over to you.

Silently, he takes your hand and leads you further away from the pair to the midpoint between them and the exit. There, he turns you to face him while all but whispering your name. “Please, go outside; I don’t want you to see me like this,” he requests softly, giving you such an earnest, pleading look that you nod in agreement before you fully register your own decision. He lets out a relieved breath and cups your cheek with a grateful little smile before letting you go and stalking back over to Jihoon and the sobbing man, stern expression returning.

Confusedly, you exit the garage and close the door firmly before moving to sit on the bonnet of Seungcheol’s car in wait.

Although there is plenty of noise around you from the nearby buildings and people milling around, you can still hear the agonised screams coming from within the garage a minute later.

It doesn’t last long before you hear nothing more from within the garage.

You’re only outside for a few minutes before Seungcheol exits while wiping his bloodied hands on a rag. Thanks to the fact he had removed his jacket once you left the garage to not get it dirty, his arms are exposed in his short-sleeved t-shirt, and you can see more blood splashed up his forearms.

“That was quick,” you comment as he approaches you and shrugs his jacket from where it’s slung over his shoulder, onto the bonnet at your side while still wiping at his hands.

“He passed out part way,” he explains simply.  

“What did you do to him?”

“I already told you that I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“I’m not seeing, you’re telling.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighs and looks up at you instead of his hands. You can see specks of blood on his jaw and throat that you know he’ll miss with the rag; he might not even know more than his hands and arms are dirty.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask Jihoon.”

“Why are you so fucking interested?”

“I just want to know what you did; he deserves to suffer after what he said.”

Seungcheol stares at you for a moment before responding. “What did he say exactly, sweetheart?”

“Tell me what you were doing, and I’ll tell you what he said.”

He makes a frustrated sound yet relents. “I was cutting out his fucking tongue, happy?”

“Did you finish?”

“What?”

“You said he passed out; did you stop then or finish the job?”

“Of course, I fucking finished the job,” he grunts and looks down to start scrubbing at his arm harshly. “Now tell me what the fuck that piece of shit said about my son.”

“He called him a retard. Twice,” you inform, taking the rag from Seungcheol’s hand as he freezes, so that you can wipe at his skin with the too dry material much more gently than he had been.

“I should kill him,” he growls.

“No,” you argue levelly and gently tilt his head up so that he’s looking at you instead of burning holes into his own arm with his dangerous glare.

“He fucking-”

“Death would be too easy, right?” You remind and cup his cheek to tug him closer, until he’s standing between your knees, and you can gently start wiping away the speckles on his jaw. “I don’t know if he will recover from the back injury, but if so, it will take a long time. And I know from experience that a person with their tongue missing, even only a small part of it, will suffer, often with phantom pains. Death would be too easy.”

Seungcheol stares at you for a few minutes as your tender touch soothes him, even if your only intention is to clean him and not calm his anger, but it does. When he tilts into your palm, you look up into his eyes and find him looking at you in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“Death would be too easy,” he agrees quietly. “Thank you.”

“You can’t see yourself, you always miss your neck,” you point out, focusing back on wiping down his skin as best as you can with the stained rag.

“I didn’t mean that, though yes, thank you for always cleaning up where I miss.”

“Mm, don’t want the boys seeing that.”

“No, we don’t,” he agrees and straightens up when you remove your hand so that you can clean that side of his face too. “I meant for standing up for Hansol, thank you; for having my family’s back.”

“Of course, you took me and my brother in, your family has accepted mine and that…well it’s more than I’ve ever had. I’m endlessly grateful to you, Seungcheol, and to Hansol for taking Chan under his wing and being so wonderful to him. I’d do anything for you both, as long as it doesn’t negatively impact Chan, of course.”

“I’d never want you to do anything that does,” he promises. “I won’t ever put you in a dangerous position willingly and I’d tear the city apart to hurt anyone that tries to hurt you.”

You look at him with brows furrowed questioningly. “Why? I’m not your family or inner circle.”

“You really think that?” He huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Sweetheart, you’re not just in the house because I want to keep your brother safe and with Hansol. You’ve proven yourself over and over again the past almost three months. You’ve given me all the information you have on the Vulture and his fucked-up cronies and helped me plan every move we’ve made so far. I’ve been trying to chip away at that gang for years but never had the chance because no-one we’ve caught fucking talks. I’ll give ‘em that, they know how to keep their mouths shut fucking tight.”

“That’s the torture resistance training,” you state matter-of-factly.

“What?” Seungcheol mutters. “Torture resistance training? Like they’ve been tortured so they know how to keep quiet?” You nod in confirmation. “Did…did you go through that too?”

“Yeah, we all do before getting our brands.”

“Fuck, I can’t believe he forced his daughter to go through torture like that.”

“You don’t know the half of what that man is capable of, Seungcheol,” you reason, before looking down at his arms and frowning. “I think you need water to clean up properly; this rag is too covered in blood now.”

“There’s wipes in the glovebox,” he motions to the car, so you nudge him back to give you space to slide off the bonnet and walk around, open the car, and reach inside with your hand not smeared in blood to grab the packet of wet wipes. They’re the same brand as the ones placed all over the manor for when Hansol, and now Chan, need to be cleaned without sending them to the bathroom to wash their hands and face.

Something about cleaning the blood from the man’s neck with the wipes from the packet with cartoon dinosaurs on it, makes you start to giggle.

Seungcheol watches you amusedly, and very bewildered, for a few seconds before questioning you. “What’s funny?”

“Just cleaning up the big bad Choi Centaur boss with wipes embossed with cute dinosaurs.”

“Oh,” he mutters, then chuckles. “I’ve never thought about it before, but I guess that is pretty funny. Hansol really likes these ones; they’re not too wet without drying like right away, and they don’t smell of anything.”

“Mm, they’re good ones, Chan likes them too. He never usually likes wet wipes but he’s fine with these; he says they’re soft.”

“They are, but you’re also just really gentle. Hard to imagine the woman who just slammed a man in a car and broke his back is this…tender.”

“Only to those who deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

You land a stern look on him. “Don’t bullshit me, Choi Seungcheol, you deserve to be cared for and treated tenderly. You’re not a truly bad man. You have done a lot of fucked up shit and will continue to, so your soul isn’t ever going to be pure, but your heart is.”

You watch as a barrage of emotions flicker over Seungcheol’s face, eyes darting between your own as he searches for any hint of uncertainty, yet when he finds none, he presses his lips together and inhales slowly and deeply.

When he lets the breath out, it’s a little shaky. “I think- I think if anyone else tried to say that to me, I wouldn’t believe them,” he admits quietly, voice tinged with emotion and a little weak in places as if your honesty has sucked the strength from his very core. “But I trust you, with everything in me and that- that’s kind of fucking terrifying, if I’m honest with you.”

“I can imagine you don’t trust easily, being who you are.”

“No, I really fucking don’t,” he lets out a broken little laugh before stepping closer to remove the packet from your left hand and wipe from your right hand to toss them onto the car behind you so that he can pull you into his arms in an embrace so warm despite the man only wearing a t-shirt on his torso in the early spring weather. “You are one of the most important people to me, sweetheart, so please don’t ever do anything to break my trust. I don’t think I could come back from a betrayal by you of all people.”

“Ditto,” is your simple response against his shoulder, making him laugh slightly.

He holds you a moment longer then lets you go. “Come on, I’m done with work for the day.”

“It’s not even lunch time.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he replies, grabbing everything from the bonnet to toss onto the backseat of the car carelessly. “Come on, I want to spend the rest of the day with you and the boys.”

“Oh!” You light up and rush to get into the passenger seat, excited to spend time with your favourite three people in the world.

Even though you’ve barely entered the house, you can hear Chan’s distressed wailing easily. A huge part of you wants to sprint straight to him so that you can soothe him and fix whatever the issue is, but you know the difference between his cries, and this isn’t a pained one.

Knowing that your brother isn’t hurt, you manage to keep your cool long enough to remove your boots at Seungcheol’s side and step out of your dirty overalls to toss into the laundry room. It leaves you in the exercise leggings Seungcheol had brought you, which you have actually gained quite fond of even if you only wear them under your overalls, and an oversized t-shirt you think might be Mingyu’s. Then you rush towards the playroom upstairs with Seungcheol right on your heels.

You don’t realise that his eyes are glued to your ass dumbly as he follows a few steps behind you up the stairs, until he tries to stand on a step that doesn’t exist at the top having not been paying attention, and he falls forward right into you, taking you both down to the floor with a loud thump.

“What the fuck, Seungcheol?” You grunt, shoving him off of you to turn over and look at him incredulously. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He’s blushing embarrassedly and not looking at you as he scrambles to his feet and helps you up.

“What was that?” Junhui calls from the bottom of the stairs.

“Just fell, it’s fine!” Seungcheol returns.

“You fell? You never fall.” The cook mumbles away as he wanders back to his domain to work on lunch.

“How have you hidden how clumsy you are from them all?” You wonder.

“I’m not clumsy,” Seungcheol defends, doing his best not to pout as he turns you around and walks you to the playroom with his hands on your shoulders.

As soon as you step into the large room, you understand the issue.

Over in the crafts corner, Seungkwan is trying to soothe your brother where he’s laid on the floor kicking and screaming with paint on his raised hand, while Hansol watches with a concerned frown.

Silently, you grab the wipes from the shelf and walk over to begin cleaning at Chan’s skin. He calms as he feels the paint being washed from his hands.

“Oh, it’s the paint,” Seungkwan realises with a soft exhale.

“Mm, he doesn’t like slimy textures,” you inform.

“I know he doesn’t like actual slime, but we’ve never tried paints, so I didn’t realise it counts.”

“He likes painting but it’s better with those paint sticks so there’s less chance of getting on his skin.”

“Ah, I’ll order some,” Seungkwan says and finally notices Seungcheol standing a little behind you. “Oh, Coups, you’re back early for lunch today.”

“Mm, decided to give myself the rest of the day off, which means you get it off too and we’ll take over, once we’ve both showered, that is.” He motions between himself and you.

“Both showered?” Seungkwan smirks at his boss, who scowls in return, making the younger snigger. “Alright, alright, you two can take over after you’ve showered.”

“Separately,” Seungcheol adds, making you look at him curiously and notice how he’s almost glaring at Seungkwan, who you find grinning when you look at him. You don’t quite understand what’s going on between the pair right now, though quickly decide to ignore it and instead turn back to finish cleaning up your brother.

“Yeah? Then why are you still standing there as if you’re waiting to go together? Your rooms are on opposite ends of the floor.”

“Shut up. I’ll be back quickly.”

“You’re going to come paint with me, daddy?” Hansol asks, then begins to bounce excitedly when his father nods in confirmation; it makes Seungcheol’s ire melt away and a smile lifts his features seeing how happy his son is to spend time together.

“I’ll be right back, ‘kay, bud?”

“Kay!” Hansol agrees and turns to hop back to his easel and splat his hand into the paint tray to smear colours over his paper, turning it an even murkier brown than his efforts already have.

Seungcheol pulls a slight face at the mess his son is making, knowing he’s going to have to try and get him to paint a legible picture, or get equally as messy himself, before turning and leaving while mentally reminding himself to not wear clothes he wants to keep paint free.

Once you’ve got Chan cleaned up and back on his feet, he glares distrustfully at Seungkwan when the man tries to encourage him back to his own easel.

“We can be extra careful now that I know you don’t like how paint feels, Squirt,” Seungkwan promises, yet Chan steps closer to you as if you’re going to protect him from the mean man and his slimy paints.

“Why don’t you sit and watch Solie paint for now and when I’m back, we’ll try it together, hm?” You say to Chan softly while patting his hips gently in encouragement. He looks at you. “We can paint the sea, how about that? With some nice blues and greens and when it’s dry, we can display it in our room, yeah?” Chan looks much more enthusiastic now that you’ve mentioned the sea and nods. “Okay, good, you sit down and watch, I’ll be back soon, okay?” Another nod before he toddles over to sit on the floor near his own easel yet watches Hansol.

“One day I’ll remember the sea is his weakness,” Seungkwan muses. You laugh softly and get up. “Enjoy your shower, Pearl!” He sing-songs as you leave the room, earning a puzzled look from you that he just giggles at before turning and jolting forward to stop Hansol squirting red paint directly from the bottle onto his picture.

By the time you’re back in the playroom, Seungcheol is already present and to your surprise, he’s not kneeling with his son, who is on brown mess number four, but behind Chan. Your brother is standing with his back to Seungcheol’s chest and his tiny hand in the man’s while Seungcheol carefully helps Chan brush blue over his paper, only a little paint on his brush at a time to minimise the risk of paint splattering onto Chan’s skin.

Seungkwan is nowhere to be seen, and you think it’s the first time you’ve seen Seungcheol alone with both boys, but you really don’t mind that the nanny left. Although Seungcheol hasn’t spent anywhere near as much time with Chan, you trust him entirely with your brother.

Seungcheol looks at you when you near them. “Hope you don’t mind I started Squirt off without you, Kwan said you plan to paint the sea with him.”

“Not at all, you’re doing a great job together,” you enthuse and brush back Chan’s hair from his eyes. He looks at you with a proud grin that makes you smile back. “How about you keep painting, and I’ll see if Solie wants to expand his palette past brown?”

“Is that okay, Squirt?” Seungcheol asks Chan softly. “That I stay with you?” Chan thinks about it for a second while glancing at the man behind him yet nods as soon as he looks at their progress in front of them. It makes Seungcheol beam at the quiet boy accepting his assistance despite you being right by his side and available to help. “Great, I’m really enjoying painting with you, Squirt, it’s really nice.” Seungcheol continues to talk softly to Chan while you walk over and kneel down beside where Hansol stands.

“So, what are we doing here, Sol?” You wonder.

“I want to make a rainbow, but it keeps going brown,” Hansol admits with a disappointed sigh. “Uncle Kwan doesn’t understand and keeps drawing a rainbow for me to paint over but it’s not what I want.”

“You want it all swirled together?”

“Yeah!” Hansol nods. “But it goes brown every time.” The sigh he lets out is world weary verging on frustrated. “I don’t understand, Aunt Pearl.”

It’s the first time Hansol has called you aunt, and it throws you off for a moment. You can’t help but glance over your shoulder to see if Seungcheol heard, but he’s focused on what he’s doing, and you don’t want to distract him from Chan, so you turn back to Hansol. “If you over blend, it’ll go brown; it’s what happens when you mix all the colours together, basically.”

“Oh. So, I can’t make a swirly rainbow?” Hansol pouts at you sadly. “I wanted to make it for Uncle Gyu for his gift.”

“Gift?”

“Mm, it’s his birthday today.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that” you admit.

“He doesn’t like presents other than things I make.”

“Ah, I see.”

“And Squirt. I asked Uncle Gyu in secret, and he said he would love a picture from Squirt too if he wants to make him one, so we been trying. But” he sighs heavily and looks back at his brown, almost dripping paper. “It’s all crap.”

“Hansol!” Seungcheol scolds, proving that he has been listening, even if not consciously, so he must’ve heard his son call you aunt and just not cared. It makes you feel like they really have accepted you into the family the group has here, and your heart warms in your chest.

“What?!” Hansol replies, looking at his dad with big, genuinely innocent eyes. “At least I didn’t say shit!” You can’t help it, you start to laugh, making Hansol giggle proudly while Seungcheol sighs exasperatedly behind you.

“Please don’t laugh, Pearl, now he’s going to think it’s funny to swear and I don’t want him picking up that bad habit. Especially so young,” Seungcheol reasons.

“You’re right, you’re right,” you concede, trying to stop your laughter, though a few giggles still slip through while Hansol continues to grin at you with sparkling eyes. “Swearing is bad, Solie, you’re far too young to have the habit. At least wait until you’re ten.”

“Pearl!” Seungcheol exclaims, making you and Hansol burst into giggles while the man dramatically lets out a breath then turns his attention solely to Chan. “You’re the only one I can rely on to be good mannered, Squirt. Don’t take after your sister and Hansol.” Chan blinks at Seungcheol a few times then turns back to his painting with a little urging sound while moving their connected hands back to the paper. “Okay,” Seungcheol chuckles softly. “We’ll focus on our masterpiece and those delinquents can do their own thing.”

“Alright,” you start when you’ve stopped laughing and moved closer to Hansol. “Let’s clean all this up so we can start fresh and make Uncle Gyu the best swirly rainbow he’s ever seen.”

“Hell yeah!” Hansol cheers. Seungcheol sighs.

“Hey,” Jisoo greets softly as he sits at your side on the bench at the side of the playground, where you’re watching Seungcheol and the two boys play after lunch.

They’re probably burning off all the calories they consumed not even twenty minutes ago, but you don’t mind. The three look so happy that you know Junhui won’t even mind having to make them snacks so soon after lunch.

“Hi,” you respond, smiling at the man a little before looking forward again.

He doesn’t say anything more, just watches the three with something a little longing in his eyes. You don’t know Jisoo that well; he’s probably around the manor the least as one of the leading paediatric doctors at the busiest public hospital in the area, while also being at Seungcheol’s beck and call as Centaur’s secret private doctor. Jisoo is always busy, but when you get the chance to see him, you often find him quietly watching Hansol with this same look in his eyes.

Although it’s not really your place, you can’t help but let your curiosity win out. “Do you want your own?” You wonder, glancing between the man on your left and the three darting around the apparatus with their feet slapping over the rubber tarmac rapidly and laughter in the air.

“Hm?” Jisoo hums questioning while looking at you, so you motion over to the three.

“Kids, I’ve noticed you look at Hansol that way a lot.”

“Oh, I didn’t realise I’m that obvious.” He chuckles and lets his gaze find the seven-year-old again, so you copy. “I don’t necessarily want my own, no.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know about Hansol’s mother?”

That makes you look back at him intrigued. “No, nobody has ever mentioned her.”

“She was my best friend. We came here together from LA almost ten years ago. She wanted to study Korean cuisine; she loved to cook and wanted to open her own restaurant and I…I was so in love with her that I didn’t want to be without her, so I applied to study medicine here and as soon as I got accepted, we came over.”

“Oh…I assume you didn’t get together.”

“No,” he smiles at you a little then turns back to watch the three play and you turn too, figuring you’ve probably been staring at him for too long, especially for such a personal topic. “I wasn’t brave enough to ever tell her how I felt and at the time, I always assumed she didn’t know. But I learned with time that she always knew, just never cared.”

“That doesn’t sound like you were her best friend, even if she was yours.”

Jisoo lets out a short, soft laugh. “You’re right; I was just so infatuated that I didn’t realise that it was always me making the effort and caring more.”

“What a bitch.”

“Mm, she was, but you know what they say about hindsight.”

“No?” You look at him confusedly and seeing you turn to him in his periphery, he looks at you.

“Hindsight is 20/20.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that everything is clearer after the fact. Like 20/20 vision.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” you murmur and turn back around. He does the same. “How did she become, well, Hansol’s mother?”

“She worked at a restaurant Coups frequented, and they hit it off. I tried to keep her away from him; I knew he was bad news just from the like, aura or whatever but she was into it. Which shouldn’t have surprised me; she had terrible taste in guys in high school; always went for assholes.”

“Seungcheol isn’t an asshole.”

“No, he’s not, but I didn’t know that. I never gave him the chance and treated him harshly and dismissively. He just mirrored it back to me and often teased me by silently rubbing it in my face that he had her; putting his hands all over her, kissing her way too inappropriately for public settings.” He chuckles. “And again, I completely missed that she clearly knew what he was doing and why and always went along with a pleased giggle. I just thought she was giggling because she liked it, not that she liked flaunting that she was fucking someone that wasn’t me.”

“She just wanted your attention,” you understand, and he hums in confirmation. “And then I assume she got pregnant along there.”

“Yeah. Coups put her up in a safe house to protect her and keep the baby secret and she played along; fooled us both that she wanted it and wanted to marry him when he asked. But then two months after Hansol was born, she left. Confessed she never wanted to have the baby but doesn’t believe in abortion, so she played along; let Coups think she loved him while planning to leave the entire time.”

“She played you both?” You gawp at him, and he just nods in confirmation. “I think I hate her.”

Jisoo laughs and looks at you. “I know you say that for Coup’s benefit, but I’m taking it as you’re on my side too.”

“I am,” you assure without hesitation, making his eyebrows lift slightly in surprise. “I don’t really know you, but you seem like a nice guy, sweet; you don’t deserve to be treated so poorly. I hope that’s where you realised what a bitch she is and kicked her aside.”

“I wish I had been that smart,” he gives you a sad little smile. “I asked her to stay with me because I loved her and couldn’t live without her. I was in the middle of my studying and couldn’t leave. My family put all they had into my education, and I couldn’t disappoint them by wasting their money to follow her back to LA. I even said I’d return with her the second I could get a transfer, but she refused no matter how much I cried and begged. She didn’t even look upset to see me so broken and it still took me weeks of barely functioning in a country with no-one by my side before I accepted the truth.”

“That she’s a giant bitch.”

Jisoo nods. “That she’s a giant bitch,” he confirms, making you smile, which he returns before you both look back at the three. “I didn’t see Hansol for a few years until he was rushed into the ER while I was on rotation, and he was suffering his first allergic reaction. That was when I finally realised that Coups is not a bad guy; when I saw him stay beside Hansol’s bedside all through the night without rest and refused to take his son away until he had been triple checked over. I’ve stuck around since, but sometimes when I look at Hansol, I see her and it hurts, even now.”

“That fucking sucks.”

Jisoo chokes out a laugh at your response, though makes a noise of agreement. “Yeah, it does fucking suck. But I love that boy and I’m so grateful that Coups lets me be his godfather and uncle and live under the same roof despite it all.”

“He’s a good man.”

“He really is. You’re good for him, you know?”

“What?” You give him a bewildered look. “How?”

“He’s always been a great dad; I truly couldn’t deny it even if I wanted to. I’ve never seen a parent love their child so fiercely, but up until the past few months, he hasn’t been in the house as much. He gets home a lot earlier now, puts Hansol to bed pretty much every night and it’s done them both the world of good. Hansol’s a generally happy kid, but he used to have a lot of days where he was quiet and withdrawn because he missed his dad; cried for hours, but now he doesn’t get the chance to miss him.”

“Oh, that’s good then, I’m glad I can apparently do that.”

“Me too. He’s happier too, Coups, I mean. I don’t know what you’ve been doing but keep it up. A happy boss means we’re all happier,” he jokes and pats your hand on your thigh before he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ve got a late surgery tonight.”

“Oh, I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you, Pearl, I hope it does too.” He smiles at you gratefully before walking off inside.

A few minutes later, Chan rushes over to you with his hands clasped in front of his crotch. “Wee,” he declares, so you get up and take him to the closest bathroom so that he can use the toilet. “Per,” he calls as he sits on the toilet, swinging his legs while you wait just outside of the cracked open door to give him privacy to do his business.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask, peering over at him.

“I like Sunny,” he informs simply, making you smile knowing exactly who he means for the fact he calls one person Sunny due to struggling to say his name.

“You like Seungcheol?” He nods in confirmation. “Me too, Squirt.”

“Sunny like us too?”

“Yeah, he likes us too.”

“And Solie?”

“Solie likes us, yeah.”

“I like Solie lots.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

He wiggles off of the toilet when he’s done, so you turn back around and wait for him to finish the routine, smiling as he sings to himself while washing his hands to make sure he washes them for a sufficient amount of time.

When you hear him nearing, you push off of the doorframe to give him space to exit the bathroom without opening the door wider. Silently, he takes your hand and the two of you walk to the backdoor to put your boots back on.

“Per?” Chan asks when you’re tying your own boots while he waits with his own already zipped up securely. You hum questioningly. “I sleepover Solie?”

You look at your brother in surprise. “You want to have a sleepover with Solie?”

“Solie said we sleep in his bed and watch Nemo.”

“Oh,” you smile in understanding, knowing that mentioning Chan’s favourite movie is a very persuasive way to get the six-year-old to agree to almost anything. “I think it would be nice for you to have your first sleepover with someone other than me.”

“Oh, no Per?”

“No, baby, just you and Solie.” He frowns uncertainly. “I can see if there is a room I can stay in near to Solie’s bedroom, so I’ll be close by.”

“Per stay close to Squirt.”

“You’ll be safe even if I’m not there, we’re safe here, aren’t we?”

“Safe with Sunny.”

“Yeah, baby, we’re safe with Sunny.”

“I like Sunny.” You can’t help but laugh softly before taking his hand and going outside.

Seungcheol is sprawled over the bench catching his breath while his son bounces away on the trampoline, higher than he ever does with Chan knowing that the younger doesn’t like anything but essentially bobbing on the trampoline.

“Tired out?” You tease as you lean on the back of the bench and peer down at Seungcheol while Chan happily rushes over to stand in wait at the side of the trampoline for Hansol, before they both run to the slides; Chan’s favourite playground activity and one Hansol is always more than willing to indulge his best friend with, no matter how many times they go up and down.

“I think I’m officially getting old, sweetheart,” Seungcheol declares, making you laugh before you circle around the bench. “Just sit on me, I’m too tired to move.”

With a shrug, you sit on his thighs sideways with your feet just touching the ground, and he gawps at you. “You told me to,” you reason.

“I didn’t expect you actually would.”

“Oh, is this one of those things where people say things they don’t actually mean for some bizarre fucking reason?” You mutter and start to get up, but Seungcheol abruptly sits up and winds his arm around your waist to keep you on his lap.

“My lap is always available for you,” he declares.

“It’s a sturdy lap,” you comment and pat the side of his thigh between the gap in your own, making him chuckle. He swings his legs around to plant his feet on the floor while turning you until your back is against his chest and his chin is on your shoulder.

You’ve not been held like this in a long time, and even then, it hadn’t made your stomach flutter with butterflies, just twist with disgust at the touch of the men you had to lure. There wasn’t a choice but to let those men touch you back then, but you know that Seungcheol would let you go without complaint if you said you didn’t want him to touch you.

That security is probably why you lean back against his chest and let your arms lay over his, other than your rapidly growing feelings for the man, of course. Those definitely influence your decision to get comfortable in his hold and hope that he can’t feel the way your heart skips a beat or two when he tightens his grasp on you to hold you even closer.

For a little while, you sit in a peaceful quiet, contently watching the two boys make laps with the slides and smiling hearing them giggling away together happily.

Then, you remember what Chan had said and figure this is a good time to bring it up. “Chan said Solie asked him to have a sleepover,” you inform.

“Oh, yeah, he’s been bugging me to let it happen as if I would ever say no. I just kept saying it’s not my decision but Squirt’s and somehow Sol took that as I haven’t said yes and kept asking until I agreed this morning.”

“You hadn’t. If you just said that he needs to ask Chan, then you hadn’t actually given him explicit permission so asking Chan wouldn’t make logical sense until he knows for certain that you’re okay with it.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of it like that. Alright, I see the point and will try to remember to be more explicit in the future.”

“And here I thought you don’t want him swearing,” you joke, then start to giggle when he thunks his head against yours in playful scolding.

“Does Chan want to have a sleepover?”

“He wants to try, I think, especially as Solie said they can watch Nemo.”

“Ah, the way to the little turtle’s heart,” Seungcheol replies with an understanding hum.

“Yep, but he didn’t realise I wouldn’t be there. I said I can see if there’s an empty room near Solie’s I can stay in, so I’ll be close.”

“Ah, I’m afraid there isn’t. We’re at the end of the hall opposite each other and Kwan is on one side to him and it’s a storage room next to mine, then the other guys follow those rooms.”

“Oh.”

“Well, you could stay in my room though.” You look at him as if he’s crazy. “I didn’t mean with me!” He defends while straightening up. “I can sleep in another room for the night, and you can have mine.”

“I’m not taking over your room, Seungcheol.”

“It’s just for a night and if it makes Chan more comfortable so they can have their first sleepover, I really don’t mind.”

“No, that would mean you’re away from Hansol too, I refuse to do that.”

“Ah, right. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’d be okay, I’ve spent nights away before so it’s not like he’s never had a night without me. I don’t know how I’d sleep though; I never sleep well in beds that aren’t mine, or at least if I’m alone in them.”

“Well then, you definitely have to keep your own bed.”

“Mm…what if…and I’m not being a pervert before you say as much, but my bed is fucking huge, seriously, it’s ridiculously big I hate changing the fucking sheets so it’s the only reason I let the staff in to my room-”

“Does that mean you clean your own room and don’t have a woman do it, Seungcheol?” Your teasing jibe earns an unimpressed look from the man, which you giggle at.

“One day you’ll let that go.”

“Never.” You grin as he sighs. “So, what were you saying, anyway?”

“We could have our own sleepover,” he suggests timidly and bites on his bottom lip before continuing to talk while you stare at him blankly. “J-just like, because then we’re both right opposite the boys’ room and so they know where we are and we know where they are and they can enjoy their first sleepover with another kid, and my bed is big enough that we will have plenty of space without even touching, like another two grown adults could fit between us and we’d still not fall off the edges.”

“That sounds like an unnecessarily big bed, Seungcheol.”

He lets out a breath you hadn’t noticed he was holding. “Yeah, it kinda is. Comfortable as fuck though so I’m keeping it until it’s ruined.”

“That should take some time, in theory, unless you piss the bed.”

Seungcheol sputters. “I don’t…Hansol has a few times though, but it’s been thoroughly cleaned since then and I’ve invested in really good mattress protectors, it should last.”

“Good to know,” you murmur and turn back around to watch the boys, still going up and down the slides.

Honestly, just watching the repetitive play bores you so you have no idea how Hansol happily goes along with it when he’s usually so easily bored. Even you would’ve asked Chan to play something else by now, but Hansol just cheers when Chan jumps off the bottom of the slide then races him around to the steps.

“Jisoo told me about Hansol’s mother,” you announce gently, aware that it’s likely a touchy subject.

“Oh, I wondered what you two were talking about,” he admits with a sigh while his arms tighten ever so slightly around you. “It’s kinda a sore subject, that betrayal, and I wish Hansol had grown up knowing a loving mother but I’m glad she left before he could form memories of her.”

“Does he know she won’t come back?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. I didn’t want him asking over someone who isn’t worthy of the title of mother, so I told him as soon as he was old enough to understand that she isn’t a nice person and we’re far better off without her.”

“And he accepts that?”

“Mm, yeah, why? Has he said something about her to you?”

“No,” you assure and pat his hand on your waist gently. “Today was the first time anyone has ever mentioned her. I was just wondering about what you said of him asking to have a little brother.” You motion to the pair loosely. “I wondered if he was hoping she’d be back so you can give him a sibling.”

“Oh, nah, he really doesn’t care about her at all. I asked where he expects me to get him a little brother and he said the same place I got him.”

“His mother?”

“I said that, and he pulled a face and said find another mother.” Seungcheol chuckles. “As if it’s that simple.”

“Are you still in love with her?”

He scoffs harshly. “No fucking way, that bitch can rot for all I care.”

“But you haven’t found someone else since?”

“Never been interested. I already have my son; I don’t need another child and he’s my whole life. Outside of him, I work, and that’s it. I really don’t want to have a relationship with any of the women I meet through work, well…those women aren’t of interest to me. Most of them try to get my attention thinking it’ll give them status.”

“And the other women? Who don’t want to use you?”

“Gay.” The way he says it makes you laugh. “Lesbians seem to love me, just not in that way,” he jokes with what essentially sounds like a giggle. It’s very cute.

“That does limit your options then,” you muse, giggling along with him.

“Mm, how about you?”

“Oh, I have no idea what lesbians think of me.”

Seungcheol laughs and lowers his head to put his face against your shoulder, even if the material must be cold against his skin. “I imagine lesbians are very interested in you as much as straight men are.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a lesbian, so I can’t comment on that.”

“I’d say I’d introduce you to one, but I don’t want to.”

“That’s a bit possessive of you,” you mutter, giving him a look when his head jerks up to look at you with wide, innocent eyes. “Keeping all the lesbians to yourself like that.”

He relaxes and snorts a laugh while rolling his eyes. “What do you care whether I do or don’t, huh?” Though suddenly, his eyes are wide again and looking at you a little alarmed. “Wait, are…are you a lesbian?”

“Would it matter if I were?”

“Uh…I’m not homophobic or anything.”

“That didn’t answer my question. Would it bother you if I am a lesbian, Seungcheol?”

“Uh…”

“It would?” Your eyebrows lift in surprise. “How can you claim to not be homophobic yet be bothered by that?”

“Are you?” He whispers, expression starting to pinch a little.

“No.”

He lets out a breath and nods before turning you back around properly to face the boys where they’re still playing on the slides. “I think Chan could do this all day,” he comments before you can say anything more about the previous subject. Although you don’t really understand what just happened in that conversation, he’s being so evasive that you don’t push it. The last thing you want is to piss the man off by pushing him when he clearly doesn’t want to talk.

So instead, you just hum vaguely and remain quiet, stewing in your own thoughts and mild frustration at not understanding, while watching over the boys.

Although there is technically plenty of time after dinner for the boys to play more, they’re both beyond excited about their sleepover, so while Seungcheol takes Hansol to give him his bath and get ready for bed, you take Chan to your room to do the same.

“Per sleepover Sunny?” Chan checks, repeating the question for the nth time as he prods the toy floating in the water in front of him.

“Yes, Channie, I’m going to have a sleepover with Seungcheol while you have yours with Hansol. We will be across the hall all night,” you remind him patiently, knowing that he needs a lot of reassurance for such a big change in routine.

“We watch Nemo. What Per and Sunny watch?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you respond honestly to the new question; it’s a good sign that your reassurances are settling in Chan’s mind and becoming less of a need. “I don’t know if Seungcheol has a TV in his room.”

“Watch Nemo with us.”

“It’s okay, you and Solie can watch Nemo and Seungcheol and I will talk or something.”

“And bedtime cuddles?” He wonders, looking at you. “I have cuddles?”

“I’m sure Solie will give you cuddles, should I ask him for you?”

“But want cuddle you.” He frowns. “Want Per cuddles.”

“Well, how about I watch some of the movie with you and we can have cuddles, but I’ll go after the sharks?”

“Mm, then Solie cuddles?”

“Sure, baby, I’ll ask Solie to give you cuddles when I leave.”

“Okay,” he agrees and turns back to his toys.

Once Chan is out of the bath and contently playing on the bed wrapped up in his towel to let him dry off naturally and not irritate his sensitive skin, you tie your hair up out of the way and quickly hop in the shower to scrub paint flecks from your forearms and wash over the rest of your body before getting dressed.

To your surprise, Chan isn’t on the bed anymore when you exit the bathroom but standing on the floor pulling his pyjama bottoms up his legs, the shirt already on his body and partially buttoned from how you left it when you took it off him last time.

It’s the first time Chan has tried to dress himself so calmly. Usually, he’s already frustrated by now after getting his limbs in the wrong holes, but he looks determined as his tiny hands work on snapping the elastic of his trousers against his hips just like you do to make him giggle. You smile to yourself seeing him copying your little quirks, even if he doesn’t find his own actions giggle-worthy.

When Chan’s hands move to the front of his shirt, you honestly almost cry. Buttons, zips, and any fastenings other than Velcro have always been so difficult for him, too fiddly for him to navigate and the reason you never bought him anything that used any while you were homeless, so that he still had some independence despite having had to be glued to your side all of the time.

But Seungkwan has gained the habit of buying the boys matching clothes and the pair always look so happy and cute when they’re wearing identical clothing that you never try to argue and are always happy to help Chan get himself dressed and undressed for the sake of his and Hansol’s joy.

Yet today, today your precious little brother devotes his entire focus on painstakingly threading the little plastic circles through the slits. It takes some time, a handful of minutes per button, but he gets three out of four buttons through the openings before realising there isn’t another one for the topmost button. He’s confused for a second and doesn’t realise he’s threaded them in the wrong holes but then he lights up and bounces on his toes while his hands flap at his side.

“Did it! I did it!” He exclaims to himself then looks up intending to run to the bathroom to show you yet finds you already in the bedroom, so he stays in his place and his movements grow bigger, seeing you smiling and looking so fucking proud of him. “Look, Per! I did it!”

“You did,” you reply almost breathlessly then walk over to kneel in front of him and gently cup his beaming features. “I’m so proud of you, Chan.”

“I proud too!”

“Good, you should be,” you approve and lean forward to kiss his forehead. “I love you so much, my clever little brother.”

“I love you, my clever big sister.” He darts forward to hug you, squeezing you tighter than necessary due to all the joy running through his limbs, but you don’t mind and just squeeze him back with another kiss on his slightly damp hair.

“We need to get haircuts soon,” you comment as he backs up to bounce over to the bed and grab his turtle to squeeze and wriggle happily.

“No,” he complains, pouting at you and falling still. “No touch my hair!”

“I know you don’t like it, baby, neither do I, but both of us need a haircut before we get annoyed with our hair.”

“Per cut it?”

“I mean, I can, but it’ll not be very pretty.”

“Don’t care. Per only touch my hair.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll ask someone to get some hairdressing scissors for me and we’ll do it soon.”

“And Per hair too?”

“Uh, yeah sure, why not?” You shrug. “I’ll cut my own hair too; there must be video tutorials for cutting your own hair.” Chan just nods in approval and returns to smiling happily as he gallops over to you and tugs on your hand to signal you to get up.

As soon as you’re on your feet, he’s dragging you out of the bedroom and you let him, even if you know he’s left his damp towel on the bed so it’s going to ruin the bedding, but that’s a problem for the morning. Right now, it’s all about Chan.

Neither you nor Chan have actually been near Hansol’s and Seungcheol’s rooms before, you haven’t had a reason to until now, so you’re both a little hesitant as you near the end of the hall and can hear Hansol and Seungcheol talking in the left-hand room.

“Hurry, daddy! I want it to be a surprise ready!” Hansol encourages.

“Bud, I’m going as fast as I can,” Seungcheol reasons. You stop and lower to a crouch to keep Chan still and signal him to be quiet while he pouts confusedly at you.

“Well go faster!”

“Hansol,” Seungcheol warns. “I know you’re excited for your first sleepover, but you still need to be respectful, okay?”

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Good boy. How about you set the movie up while I finish this, yeah?”

“Okay!”

You wait patiently, even with Chan still sulking at you in your arms for making him wait, until you hear Seungcheol declare it’s finished and Hansol claps and cheers excitedly.

“It’s perfect, daddy! Thank you!” There’s a little ‘oof’ from Seungcheol as you assume Hansol has thrown himself at his father in an enthusiastic hug, before the man chuckles softly.

“You’re welcome, baby. Do you want me to stay for a bit or leave you alone?”

“Can you stay? I’m a little nervous, what if Squirt doesn’t like my room?”

“I’m sure he will, you’ve even got your sea light out for him.”

Chan wiggles in your hold at the mention of a sea light and you know you can’t make him wait anymore so you get up while releasing him, giggling as he scrambles forward and pops into the room.

“Squirt!” Hansol shrieks and runs over to hug Chan just as you cross the threshold into the bedroom. You smile seeing the two boys embracing with matching grins, and pyjamas, and look over at Seungcheol to see that he’s looking at them just as fondly from where he’s sprawled over his son’s large bed comfortably. Now, you notice what Seungcheol must’ve been doing.

Dangling from the ceiling to half cover the bed are a few sheets, attached to the ceiling with grey duct tape, making you wince a little at the thought of the strong tape pulling the paint from the ceiling when it’s removed, but Seungcheol clearly doesn’t care and can easily afford to have the ceilings redone for the sake of his son’s happiness.

In amongst the sheets, you can just about make out the sight of some fish stickers stuck onto the fabric and your heart only grows bigger and warmer with love for Hansol and his clear adoration for your brother.

It’s not technically true, but you think Hansol is the best big brother Chan could ever have.

“Look, Squirt!” Hansol encourages, taking Chan’s tiny hand in his slightly bigger one to lead him to the bed and help him up onto it before climbing up too.

Chan looks at Seungcheol before crawling over to lay at his side, making Seungcheol’s whole expression melt as he stares at the quiet little boy, who is already looking at the stickers he’s spotted. He makes an excited noise and points up to them.

“Yeah! Fishies!” Hansol cheers and starts to tug on the hanging sheets, but his dad makes a noise, stopping the boy and gets up himself to pull the sheets around the bed most of the way so that Hansol doesn’t accidentally pull them down.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Seungcheol encourages, motioning to the space on Hansol’s right, so you wander over and climb up onto the bed and finish pulling the sheet around the bed carefully.

The sheets are too thin to entirely block out the light from the copious lamps Hansol has in his room instead of using the main overhead lights, but it does dull it a little and makes the space oddly cosy.

“Look, there’s turtles and jellies and sharks and starfish and…” Hansol goes on pointing out all the different types of fish stickers over the sheets looking down on you all while Chan follows along with wide eyes glued to wherever the older boy points and his mouth parted in wonder.

A tap on your head makes you look up at Seungcheol where he’s propped up on his elbow on the pillow and his arm across it above the boys’ heads so that his hand is above your own head. “Is he okay with the dark?” He whispers to not disturb the boys. You nod. “Are you?” Another nod so Seungcheol smiles and grabs his phone and another little device from the bed behind him. He taps around on his phone and the lamps outside of the sheets all go off.

Chan gasps and starts to panic not having expected it, wriggling around ready to crawl over to you, but Hansol puts his hand on Chan’s chest to pat his fingers against the younger’s torso while making soothing sounds. “It’s okay, Squirt, it’s okay, daddy turned them off from his phone. It’s okay, he’s going to turn on something really cool, just lay with Solie, okay?” Hansol shuffles closer to Chan to put his arm around him and hold him, much like you imagine his father has done to him many times to soothe him. It works and Chan settles back down, tiny hands gripping onto Hansol’s sleeve and feet rubbing together restlessly but otherwise he’s perfectly still in wait.

A few seconds of Seungcheol fumbling with the device later, gentle blue light comes out of one end, and when you look at the sheets, you see a sea effect projected onto the material. The light moves in time with the gentle rolling sound of the waves coming from the device, simulating being underwater. Although you know it’s entirely for Chan’s benefit, you find yourself instantly soothed and curl up a little as your eyes track the shadows of the waves above you.

“Do you like it, Squirt?” Hansol whispers after a few seconds. You don’t need to look at your brother to know he’s nodding in awed agreement. “Good. Daddy bought me the light when I used to cry a lot, to help me calm down, but I don’t cry all the time anymore so you can have it if you want. I know you like the sea and fishes. We can get a tent and cover it in fishie stickers and put comfy pillows and blankies and the light and it will be nice, right, to lay in and watch and be like swimming with the fishies, right?”

Then, the one thing you were positive wouldn’t happen, at least not for a long time does, your little brother speaks. “Fishies,” he says softly. Hansol gasps, but he doesn’t say anything more and just holds Chan tighter with a bright smile on his face.

You can only handle it for a few seconds longer before you kiss each boy on the head, earning another beam from Hansol as you’ve never kissed him before, and he clearly loves the affection, before you quietly slip out from the sheets and leave the room.

In the hallway, you slide your back down the wall until you’re crouching with your face in your hands as you cry silently.

You’re only alone for a few seconds before familiar hands touch your arms gently, then you’re pulled in against Seungcheol’s firm chest as he holds you tight on his crossed legs in the middle of the corridor to let you grip onto his t-shirt and cry against his shoulder.

To your relief, Seungcheol doesn’t say a word at all, he just holds you and makes the occasional soft, soothing sound as his hands gently pat and stroke your arm and back. It’s easy to see where Hansol has picked up his calming habits, and it makes you choke out a small giggle, spotting the clear connection between father and son.

“Are you laughing?” The man questions in a puzzled mumble. You nod against his shoulder while giggling harder at his confusion. “So just to clarify, this isn’t sad crying?”

“N-no.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” he relaxes. “I mean, you can cry if you’re sad; you’re allowed to be sad and feel your emotions and all that, but seriously, I don’t think I would know what to do if you’re sad.”

“This is nice,” you answer with a few sniffles as you motion to how he’s holding you protectively in his strong arms in the circle of his thighs, making you feel nothing but safe.

“So, if you get sad, I can just hold you and let you cry and that’s enough?” You nod in confirmation. “Okay, I can do that,” he declares with determination in his voice, making you giggle again. “As much as I think your giggles are fucking adorable, I’m really confused right now, sweetheart. Why the tears?”

“I just got overwhelmed, but in a good way. I think it’s the first time I’ve been overwhelmed and it’s not a negative thing.”

“Oh, because of the boys?”

You hum and nod, watching your hand as you smooth out the creases you made in his t-shirt at the centre of his chest. “I never thought he’d trust anyone enough to talk to them, but Hansol has given him a safe space and…” you take a shaky breath in as tears prickle at your eyes again. “It just makes me so happy that Chan has him, he loves him so much.”

“It’s mutual, Sol adores his little Squirt,” Seungcheol adds, tilting his head to rest against the top of yours. “I’m really happy you came to us, sweetheart, both of you. You…you make us both so fucking happy, I don’t think we’ve been this happy before.”

“Us either.”

“You’ll stay, won’t you? Even after the Vultures are dealt with and it’s safe for you to be out there, have your name out there without being hunted down, you’ll stay?”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

He lets out a relieved breath before turning his head to press a kiss atop your head. “Me either.”

“Your ass probably wishes we were somewhere different right now though,” you muse, making him snort out a laugh as he straightens up.

“You just ruined a really heartfelt moment,” he points out, though he doesn’t sound at all upset about it and unwinds his arms from you, allowing you both to get to your feet. “Come on, they’re alright without us for a bit, let’s freshen you up a little,” he suggests, though the way he takes your hand into his and leads you into his room as he talks gives away that he isn’t really giving you an option.

You peer around the huge bedroom as you cross through, but you don’t really get to take it in, not that it looks like there’s that much to take in anyway, as he guides you into his ensuite and flicks the light on.

A surprised squeak leaves your lips when he abruptly turns and picks you up to plop onto the counter beside the sink. He smirks at you amusedly for a second then walks over to the unit to grab a face cloth.

“You don’t need to manhandle me, you could’ve just asked,” you scold as you shuffle to get comfortable and lean back against the mirror behind you while your feet swing from side to side contently.

“You would’ve questioned why I’m asking you to sit on the counter.”

You don’t respond for a second as you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge that he’s right. As he approaches you with the little cloth in hands, he’s got that smug smirk back on his lips, making you sigh. “Okay, yeah, I would’ve but that’s because there’s no logical reason for me to need to be sitting on the counter right now.”

“Then why didn’t you get down?”

“You put me here, you want me here for a reason, even if you haven’t said what that reason is.”

“To look after you.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you watch him wet the cloth under the running cold water. “I’m capable of looking after myself; I’ve been doing it for twenty years at least.”

“I know you’re capable, I’m not refuting that, sweetheart, but everyone deserves to be looked after too.”

“Then who looks after you?”

“The guys all do in different ways; by helping me stay sane at work, making sure I don’t overwork myself, looking after my son so that I know he’s safe and I’m not constantly worrying about him.”

“And who holds you when you cry?”

Seungcheol pauses as he squeezes out most of the water from the washcloth. Then he shrugs and moves over in front of you to tuck one curled finger under your chin and tilt your head back a little to allow him to begin delicately dabbing the cool cloth over your tear sticky cheeks. “I don’t remember the last time I cried.”

“Oh, I cry a lot,” you confess shamelessly.

“You do?” He raises his eyebrow in surprise. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry.”

“I can usually hold it off until Chan’s asleep and I can shut myself in the bathroom, so he doesn’t see. I know it’s natural and everything, I’m not ashamed of how I cry when I’m overwhelmed by things or emotions, but I still don’t want him to see and get worried.”

“I understand, I wouldn’t want Hansol to see me cry either.”

“Chan has seen me cry before, multiple times, I haven’t always had the chance to hide it, but he gets so worried and overwhelmed and tends to have a meltdown so then we’re both a mess.”

“Well, now you have me, and the other guys too, they’d all help. You can tell Chan that if you ever need help, he should come get one of us.”

“I don’t know if he would leave me without explicitly being told to get someone, and I often can’t talk when I’m overloaded.”

“You go nonverbal?”

“If it’s really bad, yeah. But I just meant the whole crying thing makes it hard to talk.”

“Ah.” He makes a noise of understanding and tosses the cloth into the sink to replace it with the hand towel on the rack to pat your skin dry. “Do you know sign language?”

“A little, and I’ve taught Chan what I know, but our dad always lost his shit when he saw us doing it, or me learning, so it just…seemed like it wasn’t worth the beatings when I knew only I would use it with him in private and he verbally talks to me anyway.”

“Your dad beat you for learning sign language when Chan doesn’t even talk?”

“At first, he was okay with it, when Chan was really little, and everyone assumed he was just delayed a little so at least a few signs would help understand what he wants until he talks. But then he blamed it on why Chan didn’t try to talk and banned anyone from giving him any of his aids or signing so that he’d be forced to talk.”

“What a piece of shit.”

“Mm, only got worse when he got diagnosed with autism and dad just…stopped loving him.” 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with a pathetic excuse of a father like that, both of you. And I’m really glad you left and you’re here now where you can both be cared for like you deserve.”

“Thanks, Seungcheol, me too.”

“You know, you don’t have to call me Seungcheol all the time.”

“Well, I’m not calling you that stupid alias,” you retort, features scrunching in distaste while he puts the towel neatly back.

He laughs, which only grows when he sees your disgusted expression. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Then what? That’s all anyone calls you, some variation of that or Mr Choi. Is that what you want me to call you?”

“Fuck no.” Now it’s Seungcheol’s features that twist in revulsion, making you giggle amusedly. “Never call me Mr Choi, I don’t even like it when people say it, but I have to leave it be with them, the whole head of the Centaurs status shit. But you, don’t you dare call me Mr Choi.”

“Well, that’s all I’ve ever heard you be addressed with. Or daddy, but if you try to get me to call you that you’ll just confirm that you’re a giant fucking pervert.”

Seungcheol lets out your name in a gasped exclamation with eyes wide and cheeks pink. “Don’t say shit like that!” You start to cackle at his extremely flustered expression. “I-I wasn’t even thinking that!”

“Now you are.”

“Please shut up.”

“Sure, daddy.” He scrambles to put his palm over your mouth as his cheeks darken. You only laugh and let him, eyes sparkling with mirth above his palm.

“Stop. I don’t…I’m not into that.” You give him the best disbelieving look you can over his hand. “I’m not!”

You move his hand away from your mouth so that you can speak. “You’re red.”

“Oh, fucking hell,” he groans and slumps down until he’s squatting in front of you and hiding in your knees. “I regret suggesting sharing my bed with you.”

“I’ll ask Kwan if he wants a sleepover then,” you decide with a shrug.

The words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol is up on his feet at his full height and staring at you darkly. “No.”

“You said you regret-”

“I didn’t mean that,” he puts his palms on the counter either side of your thighs, making him lean down closer to you to reach, as his intense gaze burns into your innocently blinking eyes. “You are never to have a sleepover with anyone but me, understand?”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not a good reason.”

“Because I don’t want you in their beds.”

“But you want me in yours?” You reason, raising your eyebrow a little in question.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches a little as he mulls over his answer before he responds so simply that you think it’s ridiculous both how long he takes to reply and how your stomach flips from the single, lowly spoken syllable. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

He raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to say something more, but his son calling him stops the man in his tracks. Seungcheol lets out a soft breath before he drags his gaze over your face, eyes lingering on your parted lips, then he pushes away from the counter and leaves you sitting there with a racing heart and warmth blooming on your cheeks.

You’re not stupid, no matter what your father said about you, you are perfectly capable of understanding social cues when your mind isn’t so messy and stressed. You’ve been sent off to seduce too many men to not know what someone looking at your lips like Seungcheol just had means.

The information that Seungcheol wanted to kiss you, even if only for a moment, sends a strange feeling through your body that you’ve never felt before. It’s like anxiety and excitement rolled into one fizzling sensation throughout your veins and settling heavy in your sternum. You think that this might be what it feels like to have reasonable hope that someone likes you back.

By the time the boys fall asleep after Seungcheol has read them three books, and they’ve watched both Finding Nemo and Finding Dory tucked up in between you and the man on Hansol’s bed, that sensation in your chest has long fizzled out.

Though when you’re laid in Seungcheol’s ridiculously big bed, rubbing your feet together nervously as he showers and gets into his pyjamas in the ensuite, the bubbling in your chest returns with a vengeance.

You can’t stop thinking about what happened in the bathroom; the possessive way he had demanded you only climb into his bed, the way his intense gaze had lingered on your lips. Once you start thinking about that, it makes you consider other things he’s said and done over the past few months; how tenderly he treats you, how his cheeks frequently turn a shy pink in front of your eyes, how his touch always hovers longer than explicitly necessary when it’s on you.

For so long you’ve convinced yourself that it’s just how the man is; that he’s attentive and affectionate to all of his friends. Which isn’t even a lie because you’ve seen him lean into Jisoo when the doctor tends to his wounds, and you’ve seen him sling his arm around most of them, even plant a noisy kisses to cheeks when he’s feeling playful. But he never lingers. Not with them.

The more you think about it, the difference between how he treats you to any others, you realise the little things; how he seems to edge closer to you whenever you’re within arm’s reach until he can brush his hand against you, how he pays such close attention to you that he can sense what you need before you do sometimes, how even if he’s in the middle of yelling at his men for their mistakes, the second he sees you, the anger in his eyes melts away and the light returns to them, even just for a second before he focuses back on his job.

You don’t want to let yourself get carried away with the possibility that Seungcheol has liked you for even longer than you’ve liked him, but you’re already halfway up in the clouds by the time he returns and slips into the bed at your side despite the fact there really is no need to be so close when the mattress is so wide.

“You’re red,” he comments in a soft, teasing voice as he settles on his right side facing you, his right hand up underneath the pillow below his head and his left reaching for you under the covers to rest on your stomach.

When you turn onto your left side to face him, his hand slides over your waist to settle on your back, holding you close. You stare at him for a moment, nervously chewing your bottom lip while he watches you in wonder of what you’re thinking yet remains patiently quiet for when you’re ready to talk.

He’s always so patient, so good to you. He does so much, goes out of his way and you think that perhaps it’s time you try to return the effort.

Your hands tremble ever so slightly as you lift them between you to touch his jaw feather light. He breathes out your name in a whispered question, but he doesn’t do anything else when you crane your neck up to softly press your lips to his. You hear him inhale deeply through his nose at the delicate kiss, but before he can react otherwise, you pull away and remove your touch from his skin.

“That-that’s what you wanted earlier, r-right? In the bathroom?”

He stares at you for a moment with such a serious expression before he sighs. To your utter confusion and slight horror, his features turn down and he pulls away from you, severing all contact as he rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “Don’t do that again,” he warns quietly.

Your heart starts to crack as the rejection seeps inside and drags it down out of place towards your stomach. You really thought he wanted to kiss you, wanted you.

“I-I’m sorry,�� you stammer and although you want to get up and leave before you start to cry, you’re frozen in place, body running hot and cold as the realisation that you misunderstood and fucked up runs rampant through your mind, spinning and whirling every thought up into one colossal fucking mess you can’t even try to figure out how to fix.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat in a whisper that makes him sigh towards the ceiling. “I-I thought you want-”

“No, Pearl, don’t say that. You should never do shit because you think I want you to, that’s not what I want at all. I don’t want you to kiss me because it’s what you think I want. You should only kiss someone because you want to.”

“Oh.” That growing fear in your chest suddenly stops before it can spill up your throat. It doesn’t retreat, only halts in its path as you try to work your way through his words with your mind still flashing with the previous thoughts. “Can you clarify that?” You request.

“Clarify it?” He looks at you. “What do you mean?”

“It kind of sounds like you’re not against me kissing you, just that you want it to be because I want it, not that I think you do.”

“Uh.” He pauses and turns his head to face the ceiling again as he swallows thickly before he nods. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. Don’t kiss me for my sake.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

“Good,” the word is barely out of his mouth in a barely audible whisper before you’re leaning up over him on your left elbow to cup his cheek, tilt his head to you and press your lips to his. A soft, alarmed noise vibrates in his throat, and he reels back to stare at you with wide eyes. “Pearl, I just said-”

“Yeah, and I said I won’t,” you remind him. “Do you really think that now I’m free of all that shit, I’d kiss someone if I don’t want to?”

“You want to kiss me?” You nod. “Oh.” Then he’s reaching up to curve his left hand around your jaw and neck as he surges in to kiss you, not a drop of hesitation left in him.

It’s not even a few seconds of kissing before he’s wrapping his arm around you to pull your body up onto his until you’re straddling him and letting his tongue into your mouth when you gasp at the sudden manhandling.

You find you don’t mind it at all when it’s Seungcheol.

“You,” Seungcheol breathes out when he drops his head back into the pillows instead of keeping it lifted to meet you easier, even if you could’ve easily lowered down to him, but it seems he forgot that to be an option.

“Me,” you reply, even more breathless than the man as you let your weight settle more firmly on his hips and lower your torso until your chests are touching.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy for months,” he declares and smooths his hands down from your waist to grip handfuls of your ass with a low groan. “Especially in those fucking leggings.”

“You bought them.”

“Best and worst purchase I’ve ever made. Fuck, your ass looks so good in them, baby, but all I can remember when I see how fucking tight they are, is you wondering if you can even wear underwear under them.”

“I can’t,” you inform bluntly and watch amusedly as his head tips back a little with a soft groan while his fingers curve firmer into the flesh of your ass cheeks over your clothing. “I tried, but even that tiny amount of material makes it impossible to pull the leggings up to my hips so they just bunch and make my ass bulge over the band and-” Seungcheol cuts off your explanation with a heated kiss, one hand cupping the back of your head to pull you in and the other still groping at your ass as if he’s trying to imbed his hands into your flesh so that he never has to let go.

“Well,” the sudden voice from the doorway makes you both sit up and look over in alarm not having heard anyone approach, but Mingyu is standing in the doorway looking partially amused and partially shocked. “Just came to say that we’re all going out now for drinks, so it’s just the four of you in the house.”

“Uh, right, yeah, right. Have uh-” Seungcheol starts, then has to clear his throat, so that his voice isn’t so thick and rough with arousal, so obvious that Mingyu is smirking now. “Have a good time. Happy birthday, Gyu.”

“Happy birthday,” you repeat softly.

Mingyu’s expression softens as he looks directly at you instead of his boss and smiles at you. “Thank you, Pearl.”

“Hey!” Seungcheol complains. “Don’t I get thanks?”

“You refused to let us use the card,” Mingyu defends poutily.

“Of course I’m not letting you use the fucking business card to get drunk!”

“It’s his birthday,” you reason, turning your head to look at Seungcheol. “It’d be your gift to him.”

“He doesn’t like gifts.”

“Your gift to your men for working so hard,” you correct yourself without missing a beat and hear Mingyu snort out a badly concealed laugh as Seungcheol sighs heavily.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking manipulating me like this,” Seungcheol grunts and motions vaguely to the dresser, so Mingyu scuttles over to grab Seungcheol’s wallet to grab and bring over, with an excited grin on his face as he does so.

“You’re the best,” Mingyu breathes out gratefully as Seungcheol finds out the correct card to hand over to the tall man.

“I should think so,” Seungcheol grumbles.

“I was talking to Pearl,” Mingyu points out, then giggles and jumps away as Seungcheol darts his arm out, but with you still on his lap and quickly reaching up to put your hand on his arm and stop him, the man doesn’t have the chance to hit the birthday boy. “Thanks, daddy!”

“Fuck off!” Seungcheol exclaims as Mingyu leaves the bedroom while dramatically kissing the card in his hands. “If they bankrupt me, it’s on your shoulders, sweetheart.”

“Is there not a limit on that card?”

“No, I don’t think I can set it up either, it’s one of two cards, company cards let’s say, but Seungkwan has the other explicitly to use for Hansol’s benefit and he knows he’ll be punished if I see anything suspicious on the statements.”

“Get the app up, let’s look; I know how to do all that,” you reason as you climb off his lap and sit expectantly against the pillows that you prop up at the headboard. When you’re settled and can see Seungcheol again, you find that he’s just sitting there and pouting at you. “What?”

“We were in the middle of something,” he reminds and places one hand on your thigh to squeeze a little, suggestively.

“Yes, and now I’m very aware that the door is open, and the boys can walk in any at second, so I’d rather they don’t see me naked and bouncing on your cock.”

Seungcheol gawps at you in stunned disbelief for a moment then dazedly nods and turns away to grab his phone from the side table. His movements are slow and a little stilted all the way until he’s at your side with his right arm around you and his phone in his left hand as he unlocks it.

“What?” You ask and he hums questioningly. “You went really weird there.”

“Just really fucking threw me off hearing you saying that. Didn’t expect it at all and now I’m just wondering what kinda dirty shit you’re capable of saying.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, daddy.” He makes an unimpressed noise and lightly taps your arm with his right hand in scold while you giggle amusedly.

“You’re a brat, aren’t you?”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“No,” he refutes with a sigh. “You’re not doing that, sweetheart, if we’re going to do this then I want you, not some version of you that you think I want. Don’t play into any of the shit you were taught to bait men, I just want you and what you like, okay?”

“I’m not sure I know what I like, I’ve never had the chance to really explore that. Sometimes I had some leeway with the targets but generally I was given a character to play and stuck to that to get the job done,” you admit and take his phone once he’s got the banking app unlocked and the correct card open.

“Have you ever had sex because you want to?”

“No, never had someone I wanted before.” Seungcheol doesn’t respond, letting you think the topic is over. “Okay, I can add a limit, what should I put?” You ask, then type in the number he mumbles, before you press confirm. “You should probably text them to let them know there’s a limit.”

“If they hit that limit tonight, I think money is the last of my problems, they’ll all have alcohol poisoning, sweetheart.”

“Ah, right, suppose. I don’t know how much all that costs.” You shrug and lean your head on his shoulder as he locks his phone and tosses it aside on the bed carelessly so that he can hold you with both arms.

“Sweetheart?” He starts after a few moments of calm silence while his fingers draw mindless, innocent patterns against your thigh. You hum to show you’re listening. “I need to ask what it is you want from me.”

“I thought we already discussed this months ago,” you murmur puzzled.

“I don’t mean that, I mean this, us.”

“Oh. I want you.”

“How?”

“You’ve got a kid, Seungcheol, you know how that works.”

“No,” he chuckles softly. “I’m not asking how sex works. I’m asking if that’s all you want from me, sex.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Baby,” he lets out a soft breath and adjusts you both so that you’re sitting up and looking at each other. “I mean what relationship do you want from me? Is it just sex, or do you want more?”

“Oh,” you understand, nodding slowly as your eyes widen ever so slightly for a few seconds. “You’re asking if I expect you to be loyal to me and stuff. You’re a gang boss; I know loyalty to a woman isn’t part of that and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the fuck up. Being a gang boss doesn’t mean that at all! My dad was always loyal to my mother, and he raised me to be the same. I don’t sleep around, sweetheart. If we do this, I’m only going to fuck you until you tell me you don’t want me anymore.”

“Does that mean you’d keep fucking me even if you don’t want me?” You frown. “I don’t like that, Seungcheol.”

“No, not at all. Of course, I’m not going to fuck someone I don’t want but I’m…I’m pretty fucking sure I wouldn’t be the one to end this.”

“What makes you say that? Neither of us know what will happen, you could meet someone else or get bored of me or something else.”

“Because this isn’t just sex for me. I get if you just want it to be about sex and I can do that, I’ll keep my feelings to myself and not try to blur lines, but I want to be with you.”

“W-with me?” You whisper and shuffle a little. “And feelings like…romantic?”

“Yeah, baby, feelings like romantic, as in I want to be in a committed relationship with you; I want to be yours and call you mine, but I’m not going to bitch and whine about it if you don’t want that. I’m a grown man, I can accept rejection so just…what do you want from me, baby? Do you want me like that or just sex?”

“I’ve never liked someone before,” you rush out and watch as his expression falls, making you realise that your words sound like a rejection. “No! Wait! Don’t-don’t look sad, I didn’t mean as if I still don’t. I like you, Seungcheol and I’ve never liked someone before, never done relationship type stuff so I don’t know how to do it right, is what I mean.”

“Oh,” he lifts his left arm so that he can cup your jaw and brush his thumb over your cheek tenderly. “You like me? Like really and not just attracted to me?”

“Yeah, I like you and I don’t know how to be a good girlfriend or even a mediocre one, but I’d really like the chance to try with you.”

“I haven’t been with someone in a long time either, not since Sol’s mother. I’m out of practice, so we can learn how to do it together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as a smile lifts your cheeks and his own features naturally mirror your joy as it grows. “Let’s learn together, Cheolie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out and surges in to kiss you in a way he hasn’t yet. Before, the kisses were all heavy and intense and although there is plenty of passion in this one too, it doesn’t feel as if lust plays a part in it at all, only pure adoration. “That sounds so fucking cute, baby, always call me Cheolie.”

“Okay, Cheolie,” you agree simply and can’t help but giggle at the dopey smile he gives you from so close that his nose almost brushes yours. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

“As in not tell anyone?”

“I just don’t want to get ahead of ourselves in case it doesn’t work out.”

“Oh, right, well that makes sense, it’d be awkward to announce we’re together today then realise in a couple weeks we’re better as friends and have to say we’re over.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, that’s fine, we can wait. I’d really like to be entirely certain before the boys know too.” You nod emphatically in agreement. “Though there’s a slight problem.”

“What?”

“Mingyu has definitely already told the guys he walked in on us.”

“Oh. How do you know that?”

“He’s one of my best friends, I know him. Know all of those nosey assholes and they definitely all know that we’re at least…physical.” You snort a laugh at his choice of phrasing. “Hey, don’t laugh at me, I didn’t want to say fucking when we haven’t done that.”

“Yet.”

He makes a strange hum of agreement in response. “Y-yep. Yet. Haven’t fucked yet.”

“Soon.”

“You want me to die, don’t you?”

“No. Whose cock am I going to bounce on then?”

“Alright, enough,” he grunts and abruptly tackles you to the bed, making you yelp and then giggle madly when he manhandles you to lay down facing away with his arms around you. “Stop talking like that or you’re going to wake up with something pressing against your ass.”

“I don’t think I’m into that,” you comment thoughtfully. “We can try it though, if you want.”

He groans and buries his face in your neck. “Please shut up and go to sleep, for the sake of my sanity.”

“But I’m not tired,” you complain.

“Want to watch TV?”

“You have a TV in here?” You crane your neck up to look around as best as you can, but you can’t see a TV on any of the bare walls. “There’s no TV.”

“It’s in the bed.”

“What?” You roll onto your back as Seungcheol lets you go to reach above you to the top of the headboard where there’s a little shelf behind it and he retrieves the remote. You watch as he presses a button at the top of the device and then the footrest of the bed opens up and a TV slowly rises from the end. “Whoa.”

“Cool huh?”

“That seems like a bad idea,” you comment and sit up to crawl over and poke at the TV once it’s still, so that you can test the stability. It’s surprisingly solid.

“It’s safe, these TVs are made extra sturdy to account for being in a bed.”

“Are they sex proof?”

“What?” He sputters and looks at you as if you’re crazy, but you’re still focused on testing the stability of the huge screen on the rack, which has been cleverly designed to match the bed and not be an eyesore. “You’re not supposed to fuck against it, babe!”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean movement of the bed itself, is the frame stable enough to protect the TV from those movements?”

“I would assume so; I’ve never had the chance to test it.”

“We’ll have to do that,” you decide and turn to crawl back over to where he’s partially propped up so that he can look at the TV without having his neck at an awkward angle.

“Oh, will we?” He muses as you fit yourself against his side with your arm across his waist and head on his shoulder.

“Mm, you’re going to have to fuck me really hard to really test the durability. And many times, so-” His right hand lifts from your waist as his arm is around you, and covers your mouth, making you peer up at him and find his dark gaze on you.

“Stop it before I lose my cool and risk mentally scarring the boys by testing that right now.” For a second, you almost goad him on, but you really don’t want the boys to see that, or hear it, so you nod in agreement. “Good girl.” He removes his hand from your mouth and cranes forward to peck your slightly pouty lips. “What shall we watch?”

“Does it have to be an adult movie?” You ask as you turn to settle back down and watch the screen where the streaming app are showing as he waits for your answer.

“No.”

“Good, because I really want to watch Cars.”

“Cars?” He laughs, already going into Disney+. “That’s not what I expected.”

“I wasn’t allowed to play with cars or learn anything about them, but I could watch this,” you explain.

“You really like cars, huh?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a shrug, eyes glued to the screen to watch Seungcheol navigate the app to search for the movie. “I was just never allowed to find out, so it’s stuck with me.”

“Well, Jihoon says you’ll be a good mechanic and he’s more than happy to keep training you.”

“Even though I dented that car today?”

“I think he likes you even more now.” He chuckles and kisses your head. “Do you want to keep working with him?”

“Yeah, I like it there with him, we just…click, I think. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad you’ve gotten closer with him; he used to spend most of his time complaining about his team but now he talks about you and your lessons, how quickly you’re learning. I think it’s kind of cathartic for him, almost, having someone there who he doesn’t want to choke with a wrench.”

“That would be impractical.”

“Oh, but he’s a determined, demonic entity when he’s pissed off, he’d make it work.” He chuckles. “Anyway, let’s watch this and then if you’re still awake after, we’ll get a snack before starting the next one, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me, Cheolie.” Seungcheol presses a kiss to your head then plays the movie and gets comfortable with his right arm securely around you and his left hand holding yours on his chest where you can feel the content beating of his heart against your fingers.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

Finding Yourself taglist: @syluslittlecrows, @gaslysainz, @whoisbaek15, @cherry-zip, @minhui896, @choco-scoups, @coupsvi, @reiofsuns2001

[bluehourbucky]

Impulsive

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: youre known for doing something impulsive from time to time but this might be your best decision yet

a/n: had a neurodivergent reader in mind I know my adhd had me make some impulsive decisions haha

I wish I knew how to write smut🥲 tho this is might just be the filthiest dirtiest thing I've ever written

warnings: kitty eating, hard sex, lots of come, possessive bucky, squirting

bucky masterlist

~~~~~

Bucky gets worried when he's on a mission for a long time, he knows you're going to be okay but he also knows your adhd is unpredictable. He just hopes you don't run out of your meds or forget to take them.

"I'll be fine Buck, besides it's only 3 weeks you'll be back in no time!"

His hands are around your waist holding you close as you play with his hair looking at him like he hung the sun moon and the stars.

"I know, doll. Just I'll miss you and please take your meds. Last time I was gone for over a week you adopted a cat."

You laugh fondly

"You love that cat with your whole being, I see nothing wrong with that."

However true that is it was still crazy since neither of you had any idea how to care for a cat.

"Mhmm, and that time I was gone for two weeks you repainted our kitchen, actually half of it because you didn't like the color and just left it that way."

Bucky smiles softly at your eye roll.

"Well in my defense, at least I didn't paint all of it!" you say and smile

He can't help the pure joy that overwhelms him, he is so in love with you that he might actually explode.

"Fine, but if anything happens please call you have the emergency phone number."

"Relax nothing will happen! You dont need to worry!" you kiss him good bye and send him on his way.

And Bucky believes you, again.

~

"Okay maybe he was right to be worried."

"Huh?"

your tattoo artist looks up from her spot and lifts the tattoo gun.

"Ah nothing just talking to myself."

The tattoo is over in less than 20 minutes and this one might be the one with least amount of thinking through. You have a few tattoos and not all of them were thought through or meaningful.

But this one takes the cake.

Your tattoo artist put on her story how a client cancelled and she had a free spot and if the tattoo is small it would be cheap. So in your mind it was only logical to leave work and go straight to the studio.

there on your pelvis, on the left side near the hip lays in cursive three letters.

jbb.

You look at it in the mirror and you honestly love it. It's beautiful, it looks like it was always meant to be there.

Your artist gives you instructions how to care for it and you pay and leave.

Bucky left two days ago and in that short time you had gotten a tattoo, his initials.

Days pass and each day you look at the tattoo and admire it. Its cute and it makes you feel hot, and like Bucky owns you now. And the horniness is getting out of hand. All you can think about is Bucky and how when he enters you he'll have perfect view that you're marked.

It's torture waiting for Bucky to come home, it usually is but this time you can't stop hyperfixating on what his reaction will be.

The day before he's supposed to come home, you are filled with anxiety and the excitement had died down. Because what if he hates it, what if he thinks it's weird or what if hes superstitious and thinks you'll break up because couples break up very soon after getting their partners name tattooed.

And its finally midnight and Bucky is going to be home soon and you don't know what to do with yourself. You can't sleep, you look at the clock and its almost 2am, you've been turning for hours.

2:15am

you hear doorhandle shake, and doors opening and closing, not Buckys steps though he's too quiet. You do however hear meowing.

"shh alpine, mommy is sleeping"

"Or not.." Bucky says as he opens the door to your shared bedroom, he sees you sitting up in bed, looking at your phone and when you see him you stand up and almost knock him over with the force you jumped in his arms.

"I missed you so much. And I love you!"

He smiles into your neck hugging you tighter.

"Love you more."

When you let go Buckys instantly worried because you have that look in your eyes when you do something impulsive, and try to tell him not to freak out.

"Don't look at me like that! It's not bad! At least I don't think it is?"

God Bucky never knew he would love someone as much as he loves you.

"Alright, hit me." he's not mad, he couldn't be, you do however keep him on his toes.

"Okay close your eyes." and he does.

"Oh this definitely isn't bad." Bucky says when he hears the rustling of clothes, your shorts falling on the floor.

"Okay now." you peck his lips and step away.

Buckys a little confused, since you stand there in just his shirt and he doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He sees you playing with the hem of the shirt lifting it just enough so it's over your tummy.

"Take them off. Slowly."

Buckys confused but he doesn't need to be told twice, he takes a step closer and takes the band of your panties, and slowly starts pulling them down.

Bucky freezes as soon as he sees the tattoo, he just looks at it in shock.

"I can always cover it up of you hate it."

Bucky looks up and his eyes are two shades darker, he looks like hes about to devour you.

"Youre not covering anything up." he almost growls.

In seconds you're thrown on the bed, the shirt gets ripped and discarded somewhere on the floor as do your panties.

Bucky is breathing hard, he's overcome with some primal desire, and possessiveness that he never experienced before.

He doesn't give you a moment before his tongue gets buried deep in your pussy, his hands holding your thighs apart. You're holding for dear life onto the bedsheets with one hand and the other in Buckys hair.

The way he's eating you is sinful, the wet sounds from your pussy are pornographic.

"Oh god buckyyyy!" You moan as you cum but that doesn't make him stop, he eats you like a man starved.

Only when you come a third time does he detach himself. And its the hottest thing youve ever seen.

His eyes are clouded with lust, his beard and lips coated in your release. He takes off everything off of him in seconds.

"Fuck baby. Gonna fuck you so hard."

Bucky doesn't give you a chance to reply as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"Shit so fucking thight. Fuck look at my pretty pussy taking me so well, fucking own this pussy its all mine."

"All your Bucky, baby please fuck me please, so good, so big. Mhrittheee." you babble your words slurred incoherent.

Its rare for Bucky not to keep eye contact, but right now all he can focus on is the three letters, he genuinely can't have any coherent thoughts except.

Mine. Mine. All mine.

"Fuck baby girl m' close."

He thrusts into you with all he has, bed started creaking, and thudding against the wall (mind you you have a huge king size bed that's heavy af). Buckys fucking you into tomorrow and you come two more times before he does.

"Yes baby just another one give me another one please."

and as you come the final time so does he you can feel all of him everywhere, he continues fucking into you chasing his orgasm.

"Fuck baby, can't stop coming."

you feel your tummy bloat from his release.

It takes him a few moments to stop.

"Shit, I've never come so hard." Bucky says as he looks at the fluids coming out of you when he exits you. He crashes next to you and pulls you to his chest.

"Hey baby you there?"

you turn eyes unfocused your hair sticking to your neck tears and sweat on your cheeks.

You open your lipts to reply but words just won't come, so you just give him a thumbs up.

Bucky stands up and you lift your arms to call him back but he just laughs and kisses your head. He's back a few moments later with a bottle of water and a wet towel. You can see he cleaned himself a bit first.

"Oh baby you're a mess." he gently cleans you up and helps you drink some water through a straw.

He settles next to you , with your head on his chest, as he stroaks your hair.

"You did so well baby, such a good girl for me"

"So you like it?"

Bucky looks at you with a face that says "are you serious right now?"

"Might have fucked you senseless, but apparently I haven't fucked the brat out of you."

"Nope! You could never!"

"You're cocky for someone who can't even stand up right now." Bucky smirks and his hands wonder down to your folds but you're quick to grab them.

"NO BUCKY IM SORRY." your voice laced with panic.

"Ah not so fearless now."

a few moments pass.

"Perks of having a girlfriend with adhd is you get surprised in the best ways!"

"You're gonna be the death of me."

"You love me."

"Yeah I do now go to-

***snore***

sleep."

Bucky sighs with content, and falls asleep not long after you.

~~~

and i oop take me to horny jail ty very much.

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[cynthiav06]

Percy's amnesia in SoN gave him the perfect excuse to build his confidence to where it should be and break up with Annabeth, with very few consequences, and I will always stand by that. Annabeth may be easier for the Greeks to back due to her history there, but she has nothing at Camp Jupiter, where he quickly and firmly established himself as a powerful, capable and trustworthy entity, getting promoted to Praetor within a week. I honestly believe that, after his SON quest and the "greeting" Annabeth gave him on their reunion, Percy should've broken up with Annabeth, stayed with Camp Jupiter and thrived there.

Not only would the structure help him long-term in the way it canonically did in the (maybe) three days we saw him spend there, but he has a proper support system without biases in favour of Annabeth. It would also provide a fun narrative contrast to Jason, which RR was trying to push in-story, where they thrive in the other's camp despite the shadow of a figure they kind of feel they have to live up to. Jason does better in the looser structure of CHB due to his having picked up many wolf-ish traits from Lupa, while Percy almost *relaxes* in the strict routine of CJ because it helps with his ADHD symptoms.

And this confidence he very clearly has in SoN, and the way he almost romanticized the possible relationship between him and Annabeth when he didn't have his memories, would lead to a very jarring experience when his memories are settled and he reunites with Annabeth. Because, woah, that was not just a subconscious bias from preferring his new friendships/camp structure, but she actually is like that.

Boom, he now has recontextualised memories and perspective of Annabeth, and a place where she doesn't have a stronger reputation than him, and he can fairly safely break up with Annabeth and escape attempts at retaliation.

He might wait until after the quest the Seven go on, so that he can immediately cut her out of his lfe, but this new perspective changes how he approaches her.

The canon would never, but fortunately for us, there are fic writers. If I get enough time somewhere in this month or next, I might end up writing this, but I will have to see, no promises.

Back to your point; you have covered mostly everything so I don't see what I should be adding to this exact scenario but yes it is one of the few perfect pit stops for a percabeth break up to happen. I am going to go down a slightly different avenue for this one as my thoughts vary a bit from yours, so bear with me. It is going to be long, but I need to recap and clarify a few things for others; I will get to your specific questions near the end. [Everything's numbered, so if you are in a hurry, just scroll to the final four points]

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

The breakup could have been mutual, too, if Rick had written it well. If we follow the proper timeline, Annabeth was still hung up over Luke up until the end of BoTL and had just started to get over him at the start of Last Olympian. Percy had just been informed of the Prophecy and under massive stress between end of BoTL and start of TLO and was obviously arguing with Annabeth over it as she repeatedly got angry at him for reasonably freaking out over his then "assumed death" prophecy. To find some relief from all this, he was dating Rachel, who he really liked, had a kiss with, and overall a good relationship with.

Then the whole plot of the Last Olympian occurs in what can be considered to be a few months at best. Then both Percy and Annabeth get together but to recap the events leading up to this:

Rachel breaks up with Percy despite their good relationship due to understanding the role she needs to play in saving the Oracle.

Luke who had previously visited Annabeth to make her join him and who Annabeth was somewhat hung over still, dies.

The war ended up killing a lot of close friends and companions and was a generally traumatic event for everyone involved.

Percy is very high on mixed emotions, reeling from everything that's happened when he gets together with Annabeth, so neither of them have had any time to process anything that's happened properly enough.

They have their one month anniversary on September 18th[The Staff of Hermes short story], and Percy disappears in October. [Riordan.wiki has years and dates of important events].

So they have barely been together for two months, and Percy's already missing.

This is Annabeth's thought process when they do reunite. It implies she has been doing a bit of thinking about their relationship and might not be as sure about it anymore.

She also seems to heavily dislike Percy's initial idea of settling in New Rome and seems to have no intention of taking a break from quests like Percy does.

She also seems to dismiss Percy's unwillingness to go to NRU after the news of Estelle's birth and the events of CotG.

Those were a few key points of contrast between them both on their future plans. Not small ones either.

Now, back to their reunion and the events following; here are a few things:

She judo flips him in front of the Argo II and almost entirety of Camp Jupiter.

If Annabeth didn't know that Percy had lost the Curse of Achilles then she was judo flipping him on the small of his back where his mortal tether was located ; which she knew about and therefore would have killed him in her anger and hyper emotional state.

If Annabeth did know that he had lost the Curse of Achilles then she was still judo flipping her boyfriend who had been missing for six months after surviving an already very traumatic event where he barely managed to survive and was then put through kidnapping, six months of amnesia, and brainwashing against his will by a goddess and then thrust into an unknown land with enemies on his trail.

Further, she blames Percy for disappearing for all of the things HE suffered through against his will and HAS THE AUDACITY TO MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR IT.

Annabeth says and I quote that she likes keeping Percy on his toes.

She also agrees with Piper that Percy needs to be leashed and controlled.

Then Percy's side gives us a few more concerning tidbits:

Percy repeatedly notes that he is scared of Annabeth or thinks she might hit him

He also says that she often brings up Rachel to make him uncomfortable.

Percy also doesn't feel comfortable confiding in Annabeth about Gabe or past trauma.

He repeatedly feels he isn't good enough for Annabeth, and obviously Annabeth's behavior consciously or subconsciously on her part enables his thought process.

He ends up almost killing himself because Annabeth makes him promise not to use his specific ability despite it being used in self-defense by Percy, which ended up saving them both because she was afraid of Percy's powers.

Yet another thing to point out is that Annabeth's fatal flaw hubris and her abandonment issues feed too much into her behavior, and until that is fixed, nothing can be helped.

Annabeth punched Percy in ttc just because he didn't ask her to dance like she wanted him to. She also gave Percy a very hard time just because he knew another girl (Rachel) and immediately acted controlling and toxically possesive towards Percy over Rachel and Calypso despite her and Percy not being in a relationship at any of those points. In fact, despite her supposed crush on Percy, she defended Luke all the way till Botl, despite his repeated attempts at murdering Percy, and even went as far as to say Percy was unreasonably angry at Luke. She also displayed rude and downright awful behavior when interacting with Rachel; and Rachel, being the better person, handled her with class and grace. This all is not even including her demeaning remarks against Percy's intelligence and condescending behavior.

We can conclude from all this that Percy and Annabeth are not compatible, with different future goals and clashing perspectives and most importantly due to lack of proper communication, terrible misunderstandings, and Annabeth's consistent toxic behavior.

But neither the characters nor the author and not even most of the fandom acknowledge any of these glaring issues, so nothing can be done, but their break up can go several ways:

1.

Percy and Annabeth both break up amicably with Annabeth apologizing and understanding the gravity of her behavior and her mistakes and consistently making up to Percy for all the things she has been doing terribly. This is only possible for pre Tartarus or pre MoA situation.

Annabeth could have had a good arc in overcoming all of her problems while Percy too dealt with his self esteem issues and past trauma and they could have given their relationship a shot again in the future; they are both too young right now.

2.

Percy confronts Annabeth on her behavior and breaks up with her. Things get ugly, and it ends up being horrible for both of them. This is a traumatic situation on both ends, but the reason why this is unlikely is that Annabeth and Percy have a case of trauma bonding, and there's hints of codependency more on Annabeth's end. Which makes Percy mask Annabeth's toxic traits easily and for Annabeth to ignore Percy's devolving mental health and self-esteem issues that she has been enabling unknowingly.

3.

The other likely option is third-party intervention. Sally or Poseidon/Athena or other campers.

I also disagree that the camp half blood would back Annabeth. Percy's their [CHB] unofficial leader and a good friend to all of them plus he is the reason the children of other non-Olympian gods have cabins and get claimed early so he definitely has a higher status than Annabeth does in both camps. Camp Jupiter also does respect Percy more than any other Greek, and he is the only Greek to ever be made Praetor. So in social or reputation terms, Percy's winning.

But I don't think other campers would dare meddle in Percy and Annabeth's business. Maybe the seven would. [Leo and Frank would never. Jason probably doesn't understand the whole situation. Piper’s misguided and would probably feed into Annabeth's behavior, so either Hazel or Reyna? Hazel would definitely help Percy understand, and Percy would totally hear Hazel out. Thalia, hmm, I don't really know what Thalia would do, but I don't think she would blindly back Annabeth. She does seem to care for and respect Percy just as much. Nico isn't touching it with a 20-foot pole, plus I don't think he is over his Percy crush at all, so he's not an unbiased party either. ]

4.

Last option and what probably is the most likely is that things continue as they are and Percy eventually snaps due to endless pressure and his mental health issues and Annabeth can't deal with it and then all their other issues which they have both ignored come spilling out and then it's just a clean break but it's going to be the most excruciating way out and given their luck definitely happening.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi OTNF and everyone,

I am finding that it's harder and harder and harder to get into anything - book, show, movie... most things seem, you know, to just not be doing it for me, be it fanfic or original stuff.

In part, I think, it's a general restlessness and that it's become harder to give anything enough time to get into the stories, the characters, the settings, the narrative voices... I guess you can call it attention deficit on my part, just a need for stories to deliver those sweet, sweet hits quickly, but they're not.

I'm not currently ficcing but I did for years (might again in the future, who knows), and it's made reading, specifically, harder. It's like I've become more aware of what goes on behind the scene, I guess? I feel like I can see the writer giving up on a sentence, skipping a scene because fuck this, trying hard to not repeat a word although it's the only one that fits, etc.

Or maybe it's just the *everything* around us in the world that is weighing on me too much? I could say it's adult life, but then again I have more free time than most (and boy do I need hours of doing nothing to survive the other hours), and no family/partner (all that would put even more pressure on me): what is wrong, to make everything so UGHHH?

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut with a brain moaning feed me, feeeed me, and whatever I try to give it, it spits everything out. (Yes, I've tried hobbies, and nothing sticks there either. I've never really found rewards or satisfaction there, so...)

Decades ago as a kid, I was a voracious reader, although studying literature took the pleasure of it away from me. It took time and discovering fanfic that brought me back to reading, but at the time the internet was starting to be a thing, too, and it can't have helped the attention thing. AFAIK I'm not ADHD but then again, I couldn't get a proper diagnosis (the therapists I saw were either dismissive or just about The Talking, which was pointless for me).

I just wonder how it all disappeared, you know? Sometimes I find something that catches my attention for a while - a book (but I read quite quickly when motivated), a fandom... but it's been a while now, and it's just so frustrating! When is it going to come back? Will it ever? *gulp*

I know that books were escapism when I was a child, and then fandom was escapism, but at the moment I find myself grabbing at air and my empty hands are mocking me. Give me my escapism baaaaack!

So, uh. Anyone here with me?

--

Yes.

I felt like that during part of lockdown. Anhedonia is common in those kinds of circumstances.

Getting your mojo back is certainly possible, but you may need to go see a professional about depression and have some chemical assistance (yes, even if you don't feel sad per se), or you may need to change your lifestyle to one that doesn't have the thing causing you to need eleventy billion hours of downtime.

Aside from serious interventions like that, you can consider a social media detox. Remove every source of doomscrolling and time wasting of that type. When the attention span is zero and nothing brings joy, the tiny and useless hits from finishing a game of solitaire or seeing one more instagram post become very attractive. This is a trap. It will suck what little energy and joy you have and make your muscles flabby for the work of getting into an in-depth book/hobby/experience.

I know the feeling of being able to see how the sausage is made, but... well... first, being in a better mental state will make that matter less, and second, reading prose that is more competent will make that less of an issue. A lot of mainstream tradpub genre fiction is not, in my opinion, very well written these days. Obviously, people are still enjoying it, and that's fine, but if you're noticing writers fumbling around, it might be time to check out some literary fiction or some other category known more for prose quality than anything else.

It's also important to have some structure and some things to look forward to. Even if you feel tired, overwhelmed, and busy, sometimes, the answer is to do more... But it must be things that are distinct and significant and that get you off of the couch, like going to one museum every weekend.

I saw some advice once about this kind of thing that phrased it as "One big adventure; one small adventure."

Every week, you should have those two things to look forward to that matter. Check out a new coffee shop. That could be the small one. Go to an event: a gallery opening, a concert, whatever.

Physical exercise and doing some things that aren't as verbal and conscious thought-involving is important too. Painting is a better hobby for zoning out than writing is. Taking long walks in nature is good for most people.

--

The kind of intense, obsessive love I had for reading as a child and that I sometimes have for fandom requires a lot of attention and some time. It's escapist, but that masks how much work it actually was. It didn't feel like work only because we were in training.

If you've filled your brain and your day up with a thousand petty annoyances or minor and useless attempts to feel something, you won't have the capacity for those deeper things.

Because you are already at a point that's equivalent to a bad sprained ankle, trying to get back to running right now won't work. You have to stay off of the ankle for a bit, then build your strength and stamina back up.

[ms-demeanor]

I apologize, do you know anything about "rugged" laptops? I'm an ADHD college student who has a lot of difficulty with spacial awareness and stuff so I have trouble with delicate laptops that break if you set them down too hard and I'd like something that can handle basic coding requirements (R studio, Jupiter Notebook, etc), and preferably can stream video for classes as well, though that's less of a requirement. I emergency ordered a cheap lower-spec used rugged laptop from eBay because my laptop isn't working, but I was wondering if a.) you think the whole thing is a gimmick and there's an easier way to get what I need and b.) if it's not a gimmick which ones actually do what they need to. Thanks!

Rugged/Ruggedized laptops are absolutely not a scam, they are incredible, it's just that the ones that are actually rugged are incredibly expensive.

I have a small collection of used Panasonic Toughbooks that are absolutely positively not functional as modern computers but work great for slowly connecting to the internet and running a word processor or programming radios. They are literally used lineman's computers and are supposed to be able to survive falling off a telephone pole. They're dustproof, so they're great to use in the desert. If I tried to edit raw image files on them they would go on strike. I'm pretty sure I could use one as a hammer.

You CAN get used or refurbished ruggedized laptops that are useable; here's a site that sells them. BUT. BUT. You're still going to be paying a high price for computers that are slower and more limited than a cheaper, more delicate computer.

So basically you're combining two separate needs here and they're not playing together great. A rugged laptop can be a great thing to have if you're the kind of person who drops your phone ten times a day (me!) But it's going to be slower and more cumbersome than a lot of what is on the market and it's going to cost a lot.

Honestly in your situation I'd probably focus on getting better performance specs out of a thinner, cheaper, lighter laptop and maybe maximize performance at the lowest price possible if you know you're a laptop destroyer (there's a reason my phones are always whatever's cheapest and in a protective case; I drop them so frequently and so creatively that I can't afford to have nicer phones).

Either that or throw power into a desktop and get a chromebook or something similarly cheap to carry around campus and have your real working computer live on a flat surface that never moves.

If you're trying to find a middle ground, business-class computers can take a bit more abuse than the flimsiest cheapie student computers because they're meant to last and are expected to move around. ThinkPads are my fallback rec for a bunch of reasons, and "sturdiness" is one of those reasons, but a business desktop is not going to tolerate being dropped. So it depends on what level of sturdy you need.

From an ADHD management perspective, you might want to consider your habits around how/where the computer gets moved; don't put it in a backpack if you're likely to drop your backpack on the ground when you get to class. Don't put it on the arm of a chair if you'll forget and knock it off the chair. Don't put it on your bed if you'll forget and sit on it. Make very specific landing spaces and very specific rules for how it gets moved and where it can go (my laptop can only go in one specific backpack and only if it's totally turned off; my laptop cannot be moved when open, i need to shut it before I carry it someplace; my laptop is not allowed on the bed or the center of the couch, it is only allowed on my desk or on the arm of the couch; I tend to set my laptop down hard so I don't set it down on my desk, it gets set on a stand. Etc, etc, etc)

Hopefully that's at least somewhat helpful. I wish that real rugged computers were more affordable and had better performance specs; if you can find one that will perform to your needs and you can function with linux, you may be able to get a toughbook or something like that for under a thousand dollars but you'll sacrifice processing power to get one that old. Good luck, I'm sorry!