LIVING WITH ENDO (AND OSCAR)

an Oscar Piastri fluff/angst scenario

scenario: what it’s like living with endometriosis, with your boyfriend’s support. (might do a second part.)

warning: mention of surgeries, blood, vomit, eating disorders, depression, bruises.

pai’s words: THIS IS BASED ON MY EXPERIENCE!! as much as endo is the same for anyone suffering with it, the impact it has on the body and mind, the pain, the treatments, and a lot of it is purely personal !! as someone who has been living with it for more than ten years and has tried everything the French Healthcare has to offer, even going into alternative medicine and such, this is my experience that I’m writing and it can be a little different than some people.

to anyone having questions about it, having doubts or just curious, my dms and requests are always open, I’ll be honored to make this illness a little more known. :)

to anyone fighting against it everyday, I’m so sorry. you’re not alone, i 100% stand with you as a fellow endowarrior (this term is always making me wheeze but I love it!!). we’ll get through this eventually !

THE NIGHT

You’re laying awake on your shared bed, not even able to move an inch because of the sharp flash of pain coming and going, not letting you take a real breathe as the movement of your diaphragm creates waves after waves of pain. Despite your pain medication, it’s a common occurrence and you’ve yet to find a solution to it, just waiting for it to pass, tear-stained face staring at the ceiling in a silent prayer that you’ll be soon free of it all.

You feel Oscar move next to you, his calm breathing picking up as he slowly wakes up, first grumbling about the early hours but then noticing your state. He doesn’t know what you need, doesn’t dare to place his hand in your lower belly to try and massage the pain away. It’s an “all or nothing” situation as his body warmth and his soft touch can either calm you and your body down or create another episode of agony, and not even you can predict it. He knows you’re aware he’s up, your face completely still as to not stress your body even more, and he press closer to you, close enough to comfort you as much as he can, far away enough to not touch you.

He can see your diaphragm broaden its movement slowly, your breathing finally beginning to get deeper as you feel the episode fade away lazily, not at all in a hurry to leave you alone. Even from under your sleep shirt, he sees your muscles flexing and relaxing as waves of pain appear, your body reacting naturally despite your tries to stop it, the flexing of your abdominal muscles making it worse. It’s a normal response, really, just like your arm will flinch automatically when you hurt it, a mean to get away from whatever hurt you. But when the only thing hurting you is your own body, it doesn’t work.

It takes a few more minutes until you take your boyfriend’s hand, guiding it to your lower belly and letting it stay here, feeling it starting to massage your body as soon as it touches it. It’s not miraculous, the pain still present, but it helps both mentally and physically as your shoulders relax ever so slightly. You always complain about him being way too warm on a regular basis, but how happy you are for his warmth right now. With your lover pressed to you, his soft praises in your ears and your body finally letting you rest, you fall into a deep slumber, thanking whoever has put Oscar in your life.

THE DAY

It started great, you woke up early and in pretty much no pain, motivated enough to make breakfast as the Australian sleeps soundly in the bed. You should’ve seen it coming when waves of nausea were starting to make themselves known the more you cooked, preparing your favorite French food, some Pain Perdu. It’s really not in Oscar’s food plan and his trainer will hate you for it, but you certainly don’t care.

It doesn’t come as a surprise when you finally throw up, your whole body spasming as it tries to get whatever was the problem out of it. It’s mostly bile as you haven’t had the chance to eat yet, the liquid burning your throat as it comes up, sweat marring your forehead at the sheer effort of standing despite your muscles begging for a rest. It hasn’t happened in a few days and you were enjoying it, able to eat and drink whatever you wanted without being overly stressed about how your body would react. Guess the fun is now over.

The doctor told you that it’s quite normal to have GI issues when you have endometriosis, even when it’s not commonly talked about. But, like every other symptoms, no real remedy exists apart from antiemetic medicine but you’ve found out quite early that it doesn’t really make it better so you’ve decided to not take it anymore, opting to just wait and deal with it. Oscar didn’t know about all this when you two started talking, barely knowing endometriosis and just thinking it was bad period pain. It always comes as a shock when he sees how much deeper it runs, how hard it makes your daily life.

This nausea thing made you develop an eating disorder, or so your therapist is saying. As you’re scared of vomiting, you try to escape food as much as possible, waiting for your body to feel better so you can eat in large quantities to make up for the lack of food. Your boyfriend knows it, your friends too, truly everyone sees how you avoid food like it’s the plague, but no one can say anything against it, knowing the reason behind it and having no solution. It’s hard, it’s painful, for both you and them, as you’d rather not do this to yourself, but it’s the only way you can live a somewhat normal life regarding this issue.

As you feel better, mere minutes later, you wash yourself before continuing breakfast, knowing well it’s now only for Oscar and not for you. You settle for hot hibiscus tea, crossing out coffee for today as it fuels the inflammation caused by your illness, something you really don’t need at the moment. Your collection of tea is impressive, your close ones all searching which tea is good and which tea is bad for you, gifting it every occasion they get, hibiscus and Nettle being your favorite ones as you feel their effects on your body.

THE STAINS

Ever since your surgeries and thanks to your special birth control, you’re not supposed to have periods anymore. Sadly, it still happens like your doctors told you it could, just not as regularly and serious as before. Your hemorrhagic periods, lasting without ever being stopped as your cycle was pretty much nonexistent, is replaced by a blood flow still heavy but not as much, making itself known only a few days a month. It still comes with all the complications of it, the searing pain making you pass out, the muscle aches, the nausea and diarrhea. You can’t complain, you’ve lived way worse.

Of course, it decided to happen today out of all day, as you’re standing in the McLaren garage, watching your boyfriend overtake another one of his colleague and securing P3. It’s probably the stress of it all, strong emotions tend to trigger episodes and you curse them as you feel the change in both your body and mind, your periods always hitting you bad mentally. You quickly excuse yourself to Oscar’s driver’s room, abandoning the race watching right in the middle of it, knowing that he’ll understand but still feeling bummed out. Apart from the obvious toll on your body, the grasp it has on your mental state is insane, leaving you battling with depression, something you’ve learned is one of the most common outcome with endo.

You take your time changing clothes, cleaning yourself in the toilets and putting a pad you’ve thankfully put in you bag before going, knowing you’ll have to change it in less than an hour with how heavy your flow can be. You slowly make your way to the massage table, laying on it as you pray it’s only going to be blood and not everything usually accompanying it, especially not the pain. It’s a vicious circle, you know it well, as you’re scared of the pain so you become tense, so tense that it creates pain, the condition feeding off of your stress and the movement of your muscles, most importantly your abdominal ones. So you try to distract yourself, you go on social medias, you read online, you watch videos. You busy yourself until you realize you really need to change your pad, scurrying towards Oscar’s bag and hoping he has some as he usually does when you two go out, always so thoughtful.

People are cheering outside, the race probably ending in a positive way and your heart swell at the sheer joy emanating from the garage. Still, you don’t seem to find anything in the bag, your hands shaking as small sniffles echo in the room, feeling absolutely stupid for not predicting your period. You can’t even hear the door opening behind you, feet stilling for a few seconds before they make their way to you, arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“- Hey, what’s wrong darling?

- I’m dumb, that’s what’s wrong.

- What happened ?

- I’m having my period and I didn’t even bring anything and now I’m going to bleed out everywhere and ruin my clothes.”

Oscar presses a kiss to your head and gets up, walking towards a drawer and taking out some pads, bringing them to you. You stare at him, as you accept them, still sniffling as you let yourself fall into his arms, thanking him quietly. You don’t know where you’ll be without him, probably bleeding out everywhere like you just said.

“- You’re not dumb, it happens to forget things. And you have me, right ? You know I always bring way too much of these with us.

- I know, thank you. Really, thank you Oscar.

- It’s alright, dearest. Go get changed, I have to get back there but I’ll be quick, I promise. We’ll go back to the hotel after that.”

You nod, pressing sweet kisses to his neck where you face is buried before letting him go, thanking him once again.

THE SURGERY

After yet another scan, you’re finally allowed the surgery, a long and draining battle you’ve won. Endometriosis is still not taken seriously by most of the doctors you’ve met, mostly overlooked as pain every person with an uterus has to live with and nothing more, so it’s a relief when you meet a specialist willing to help you. It’s a simple surgery, called laparoscopy, leaving only a few incision scares on your abdomen and promising an almost pain-free life, or well, years. It’s rare that only one surgery is enough to annihilate the problem in its all, it happens, thankfully, but it’s still quite uncommon or so the surgeon said. It’s pretty logical, as the tissues will appear again eventually, growing back where they’re not supposed to, creating new inflammation nests.

It’s stressful, as every surgery is, but you like to think of it as a good stress, completely opposite to the fear Oscar is feeling as the hours tick by, getting you closer to the surgery. Theoretically, he knows it’s a safe surgery, a small one, one the surgeon has done many times. Still, the love of his life is going to be put under anesthesia and under a scalpel and he can’t help but feel terrified by it. It’s not going to be lengthy, less than two hours, which is not that long for this kind of surgery, but he already knows he’s going to bite his fingernails off while waiting.

He’s updating your close friends and family members as the door opens, your bed being rolled inside the room as you slowly wake up, still loopy and giggly because of the anesthesia. The two nurses tell him that the surgeon will come later to check and talk with them, assuring Oscar that the surgery went very well before leaving the couple alone. You’re still quietly giggling to yourself, lifting your arms in front of your face and making random shapes with your hands, almost snatching the IV a few times so he interrupts you, sitting next to you and making sure your hands stay away from the crook of your elbow. You look at him with a wide, toothy smile and start to play with his hair, tugging at it as you try to give him some horns, the hair not sticking up no matter how much you try.

You spend the next hour drifting in and out of sleep, the anesthesia wearing off and pain slowly creeping in. The doctor makes his way in the room, giving you the ok to go home as long as you’re not alone, prescribing pain medication and planning a meeting with him a month from now. The two of you listen to his advices, Oscar noting everything he needs to buy such as ice packs, and you’re soon discharged, your boyfriend leading your wheelchair towards his car. He takes it back to the nurse when you’re settled in your car seat, thanking her for lending it even when it’s the official protocol. What can he say, he’s too polite.

The healing process is tiring but worth it, your belly adorned with scars and bruises slowly fading away, swollen and tender. You’re thankful for the break as Oscar is able to stay with you through it all, his family and yours visiting you and allowing you to have a pleasant distraction. Your close friends come too, deciding that a gossip session in the middle of the living room as you eat pasta is the only remedy you need, to Oscar’s despair. He likes them, he truly does, he doesn’t like to be chased from his own living room though. He snickers as he leaves the couch, leaving you with a lingering kiss before he goes in another room, logging in his computer. In the end, the healing process is fine, you were glad for anyone helping you through it, you were even more thankful for your boyfriend. And if you have to get a second, a third, even a fourth surgery, you’ll be ok as long as you have him.

You’re not alone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean and Sam notice you aren’t taking good care of yourself and they are worried about you. Dean talks you through it and offers support.

Warnings: mentions of ED, SH, and depression, this has some seriously heavy shit so if this triggers you PLS don’t read, fluff with dean

——————————————————

You have lived in the bunker with the boys for 3 years. Lately, your mental health has been really bad, but you were trying to hide it from Sam and Dean. With everything they dealt with on a daily basis, the last thing you wanted them to worry about was you.

It all started 4 months ago when you started having nightmares and flashbacks of the times you almost died. You were pretty sure you had PTSD, but with your lifestyle, therapy wasn’t really an option. You grew up with abusive parents which didn’t help with the accumulating trauma. The body keeps score and it seemed to all be catching up with you now. First, it was the nightmares, then the dissociating. The only times you felt alive were when you would fight monsters which led to your newest bad habit.

Whenever you didn’t feel real or got angry with yourself for whatever reason, you would take it out on your hips. It was something you could control. It reminded you that you’re real and it’s served as a punishment when you felt you deserved it. Seeing the red lines across your hips made you happy when everything else seemed grey.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, it was increasingly more difficult to get out of bed each morning. You would forget basic human necessities like eating, drinking, or bathing. You were able to hide your struggles before, but now it’s becoming noticeable. On the days the boys were home, you would fake it the best you could so they wouldn’t pick up on anything wrong, but not anymore. Maybe you want someone to notice. Maybe you finally want to be saved and cared for the way you save others.

———————-

*around noon*

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Dean asked Sam walking into the kitchen.

“No, I haven’t seen her all day.” Sam said. “Have you noticed.. she seems a little quiet lately. I also noticed she’s been having more nightmares lately.”

“I noticed that too, I can hear her scream out sometimes. I mean we all get nightmares, but these seem bad. Have you not talked to her about it at all?” Dean questioned.

“No, I thought you would’ve mentioned it.” Sam said.

“Dude, she’s obviously going through something and neither of us have checked up on her? Way to go.” Dean scoffed as he headed in the direction of your room.

—————————

You were laying on your bed, staring at the wall thinking of all the ways you have messed up lately. The last hunt you were out on, you made a mistake that almost got Sammy killed. Now, you opt to stay back and reference the lore. You replayed every mistake over and over in your head. Suddenly a knock interrupts your ‘greatest hits’.

You clear your throat, “um, who is it?” you ask.

“It’s Dean, can i come in.”

You look around to the mess of your room, random items taking up space on your bed with you. Suddenly, you become embarrassed and ashamed. “I- uh, do you need something?” You shout to the man on the other side of the door.

“I haven’t seen you all day, I just wanted to check up on you. Are you feeling okay?” Dean asks with concern.

*coughing loudly* “No I think I’ve come down with something, you should stay away.” You say, trying to sound sickly.

“Oh, ok. I can bring you some soup if you like” Dean asks, knowing you’re lying but trying to get through to you.

“I’m not hungry, thanks though” You say, pushing any kind of help away. You didn’t understand why you do this. You want help but then it comes and you resist at all costs. Maybe because this mess you’re feeling is comfortable, familiar. You’ve always been messed up, but now it’s just manifesting on the outside. When it was bottled up, it was easy to hide from everyone, but this is much harder and every lie you tell drains you more and more.

“You need to eat” Dean contested.

“I said no, now can you please go” The words felt like knives being thrown at the closed door. You didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but Deans pushing set off a nerve. Immediately you felt bad, but knew you couldn’t look at his face so you sat still in your bed as you heard hushed footsteps fade away. Feeling hot tears burn in your eyes, you walked over to your bathroom, and grabbed your razor. Anger towards yourself coursed through your veins, into your hands, as you unleashed hell onto your body. Saying to yourself, “You deserve this for being mean to Dean, he was just trying to be nice. He doesn’t deserve that. What’s wrong with you, etc.”

When you’re satisfied, your hips are stained red. You clean up and go back to laying in your bed, as you cry yourself to sleep.

——————-

That evening

“I don’t know Sammy, I think there’s something really wrong. Earlier- the way she spoke to me. It wasn’t her. I need to talk to her, to see her face, but she keeps pushing me away. I don’t know what to do. I’m worried… I’m worried it’s worse than just nightmares.” Dean confides to his brother.

“Yeah, I’m worried too. Maybe we can set up a movie night in the Dean cave and coax her out of her room. I think having some quality time, not worried about monsters could help.” Sam suggested.

“Okay, yeah. You run to the store and get some supplies and I’ll break out blankets and pillows. Meet back here in 30.” Dean says hopeful. He hated knowing that you were upset, but he wanted this to help so badly. He worked hard at getting his Dean cave set up perfectly. He even made a blanket fort. Once Sam and Dean finished setting everything up, the came to knock on your door.

You had just woken up from your restless nap. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t even over so you were back to laying in misery. You heard another knock on your door.

“Hey uh, we need your help in the Dean cave” Dean said from behind the door, you could almost hear the smile in his voice even though you couldn’t see him. While most other times you would decline, your curiosity got the best of you.

“Uhh okay, let me use the bathroom and I’ll be right there.” You said, getting up from your bed, ignoring the terrible headache. It stemmed from a combination of lack of food, water, good sleep, and crying so much. You looked in the mirror, repulsed by the face staring back at you, so you got to work making yourself as presentable as possible. After a much need brush through your hair (and teeth), a change of clothes, and some light makeup, you felt okay enough to make your public appearance. You left your bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind you to hide the mess, and headed towards the Dean cave.

When Dean and Sam laid their eyes on you for the first time in days, their mouths dropped. You looked awful. Bags under your eyes and barely skin and bone. You were always skinny, but this- this was bad. Both of the brothers concern immediately sky rocketed, but being as smart as they are, they knew to play it off. They knew if they outright said anything, you’d get defensive and shut down. So they quickly glanced at each other and greeted you like any other day. You were too busy looking at the scene in front of you to notice the boys faces.

“What- what is all this” you say surveying the room in awe.

“We thought you could use a little pick me up movie night.” Sam said with a soft smile on his face. Dean turned away from you to face the tv. It was too hard to look at you. He blamed himself for not checking on you sooner. For not immediately knowing there was something deeper going on. The cases had distracted him from the problem right under his nose and he was so angry at himself. You instantly noticed the change in his demeanor, making you uneasy. You thought he was still mad at you for the way you spoke to him earlier in the day. You made a mental note to apologize later. Sam opened up the blanket to let you sit beside him and so you did. In front of you, there was a whole display of food. Burgers, fries, popcorn, candy, you name it. The sight instantly made you nauseous.

You thought that you didn’t deserve food. Your mind = your greatest enemy. You pretended not to notice the food and encouraged them to start the movie. It was Alice In Wonderland- your favorite childhood movie you let slip one night with Dean after a beer too many. You glance across Sam to Dean who is staring at the TV but not actually watching. Sam nudges some fries in your direction, to which you shake your head.

“No thanks” you whisper over the beginning scene of the movie.

“Cmon Y/N, you haven’t eaten all day.” Sam said.

“Oh no, I had some granola bars in my room. I’ve been snacking on those-“ You lied.

“No you haven’t” Dean said finally speaking to you.

“What-“ you say looking at him confused, trying to play this off quickly.

“I’m not sure you’ve eaten anything in days” Dean starts.

“Dean-“ Sam interjects, trying to keep his brother from pushing you away.

“No, Sammy. She’s sick. Look at her.” Dean states.

Immediately, tears well up in your eyes. You knew you didn’t look your best but hearing Dean say that. It was too much. You wanted to head straight to your room to cut again, but Dean wasn’t finished talking.

“Y/N, I can’t walk on eggshells about this- you look terrible. What is going on?” Dean says in a much softer tone than before, his anger fading into worry.

“Nothings… going on.” you say.

“That’s not true and we all know it, can you just talk to us?” Sam asks.

Suddenly, that defense mechanism hits you strong and you attack the boys you love more than anything. You can’t help it. “I SAID I’M FINE. WOULD YOU BOTH JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO BACK TO WORRYING ABOUT MONSTERS OR WHATEVER” you shout, exiting the room and heading straight for your bedroom.

You close the door behind you, still crying. The scene that just played out was one of your worst nightmares and partially why you have started staying locked in your room. You beeline for the bathroom to pick up the razor for a second time that day. You roll down your pants to the hidden canvas. Right before you can move, Dean bursts through your door.

You both freeze. Time stops for a couple seconds. Every mirage and illusion you’ve built over the past few months is shattered. The ugly, dirty truth is exposed. Your walls crumble to the ground. You refuse to lift your eyes from the ground as he approaches you. He takes the razor from your hands without saying a word and throws it to the other side of the bathroom and grabs you into his arms. You both crash to the floor, as you sob into chest. Dean hold you patiently while you let it all out. Everything you’ve been holding inside. There are a million thoughts going through Dean’s head, questions he has, but his main objective is just to be there for you. You needed him, and he wasn’t there. All the warning signs, ignored. He secretly blamed himself for letting it get this bad.

You both sit in the floor of your bathroom for a while. Your sobs slowly turned into quiet hiccups for air. You nervously lifted off of his chest, anxiously awaiting the conversation to follow the events that have just transpired. You finally make eye contact with Dean, his eyes are glassy and red.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Dean said barely above a whisper dragging his hand over your hair to brush it out of your tear soaked face.

You open and close your mouth, not expecting his response. “What are you sorry for?” you ask confused.

“I- I wasn’t there for you. I mean I knew something was off, but- but this. This is all my fault.” Dean says moving his hand to hold your cheek, a singular tear falling down his right cheek.

“No, no this isn’t your fault at all. I- I don’t know what to say.” You say, feeling the weight of the situation.

“You don’t have to say anything. We are going to get you some help. You’re not alone in this. You have Sam. You have me. This- this work is hard and I know you’ve had it rough, but you can and will get through this.” Dean says, as more tears begin to fall from your eyes, though you thought you couldn’t cry anymore.

“I need you to get better. I need my Y/N. Can you do that for me?” Dean asks, gently stroking your cheek and wiping the tears as they fall. You nod.

That night, the three of you work on tidying up your room. Dean filled Sam in privately and he wanted to help you in anyway he could. You guys went back to the Dean cave after your room was clean, and ate dinner. Dean even drank water with you instead of his normal beer so you would be more inclined to drink it.

Finally, it was time for bed. Dean walked to your room with you. “I wish you would’ve told me what has been going on with you, but I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t” Dean said.

“You didn’t- I just didn’t want you to worry about me when you’ve got a whole world and billions of people to worry about.” You say in response.

“I will always worry about you first. I care about you Y/N. I am here for you no matter what.” Dean says firmly, pulling you in for a hug. His chin rests on your head as you two stand in an embrace mid hallway.

“Dean, could you maybe- um stay with me tonight?” You ask.

“Of course”

Dean grabs your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He strips down to his boxers and climbs in, holding a spot next to him for you. You curl up next to him, feeling the heat radiate off his body, comforting you. “Thank you” you whisper as you quickly drift off into a much needed, nightmare free, deep sleep. Dean leans over to kiss your head as he whispers, “I love you Y/N”.

Confirmation Reading

3:45 on my clock as I’m typing this! The colors white, blue, green and brown (or earth tones in general) are significant. White lilies, white and red roses, lions, cups or chalice(s), black and white, yin and Yang symbol, 33,333,3333,313,113,1013,1010 are all confirmations for this reading! 3,1,0, and 10 are synchronicities that you could be seeing on the day to day basis. Marijuana… whether you smoke it or are constantly smelling it is also confirmation. I feel like you’re all receiving a lot signs and answers at this time or will. Or the signs you might be seeing are leading up to answers/ solutions to any issues you have going on currently… doesn’t have to be. Many of you are taking a large step in the right direction, you’re being heavily guided at this time. I see someone walking down a path but decided to going another route because they feel it’s the right/ better path to go. Always go with your gut feelings… fox may be important especially red foxes. A lot of you are being led to new grounds and growth and also long term success. However not only are you using your intuition or following the guides steps, you’re making practical decisions a long the way. You’ve grown wise over X amount of years and it shows or it will very soon. You’ve learned to go into deep contemplation and inner reflection when it came to matters of the heart especially when dealing with situations that feel confusing to you at the moment. You’ve sat back and fully analyzed things so that you can see a clearer picture. The lesson the high priestess here is that, yes you’re highly connected and intuitive, you’re not only a student but also a teacher but one must be the student first before becoming a teacher. The lessons must be learned first before wanting to teach it to others. You had to go through the rejections, heartaches, pain, depression, solitude, confusion, feelings of defeat and feeling as if you were alone or things weren’t working out because they only amplified the energy of the high priestess. You had to grow and show that there’s more than what meets the naked eye. You had to learn to take your time and fully process your emotions which led to you to become more attuned to what your inner voice was/ is telling you. Learning how to ground yourself in situations that made you feel like you had to act out on emotions or made you feel some type of way. You sometimes had to look within to dissect whether or not if the feelings you feel were/are yours. Going within to listen to self rather than listen to others, I mean don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s good to look for guidance outside of your self but when you know and feel deep down inside that something is/ isn’t meant to be, don’t hesitate to take that leap into the direction that YOU feel/ felt was the best to take in that present moment. It’s time to move on from the past, stop living in the past and start living in the present moment because you’re only holding yourself back from truly experiencing… life as YOU know it. You also had to learn standards and what they mean to you and how to implement them in your day to day life. Knowing what you’ll take and not take, knowing what you’ll receive or not receive. I hope that made sense 😂. Stand up for your rights is basically what’s being said, putting your foot down on things that you’ll not accept/ allow… 414 as I typed that and the number 411 is significant too. This is all part of loving on self and caring for self. You love and care for yourself so much that you’re not going to allow anything from anyone! It’s giving goddess energy not going to lie lol. Many of you have goddesses around you currently, especially if you’re seeing 3’s a lot too! Even 13! You’re needing to show your inner strength and courage at this time, I’m hearing “take lead” just like we all tell Jesus to take the wheel, he’s telling us that it’s time to take our own damn wheel and steer that mf! Nothing nor nobody… and I mean NOTHING has power over you! And this is what you’re waking up to see, some of you are realizing something about the matrix or

Could be doing research about it, something is false.. an illusion but this has been imbedded into you for so many years that you’ve become so accustomed to it as if it was second nature. Prepare for many things to come to light, deaths… endings but also rebirth and regeneration. You’ll see who you are and who you’ve always been! Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised is you’re a reincarnated HighPriestess or goddess! You may not know or remember but your soul does! Once you’ve finally woken up and remember who you are, here comes to the recognitions and the reunions! It’s the reunion of the soul… your soul tribe and ancestors and everything else in between. It’s giving Lion King when Mufasa had to remind Simba that he’s the son of a king! Some of you may be sons/ daughters or descendants/ reincarnations of kings, queens, goddesses or gods… put some respect on your name and stop letting ordinary people kick dirt on your name! It’s giving revolution. Poise and grace is what you’ve been learning this entire time and now, you’re ready to step up and lead (Aries energy) but with grace, poise, diplomacy, wisdom and love. “You better not pout, you better not cry, you better not shout I’m telling you why, Santa clause is coming to town!” (I think that’s the words lmao) but Santa clause is coming to town bearing gifts… like literally lol Santa clause is also confirmation or that song in particular. Left and right ear may be itching a lot. Hope this helps!

Oh hell, I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in the gender discourse because for one I know my knowledge in gender studies (and connected race theory) is severely lacking, but mostly because the vast majority of those takes are annoyingly reductive and just people trying to make a point rather than analysing what is actually there. But this is the nth time I’ve seen the argument ‘Louis is housewife coded because he cleans the house’ which pisses me off because IT HAS NO BASIS IN THE TEXT.

There is no indication at any point of the show that Louis ever does any chores in the house at all. None. Instead it is heavily implied they have servants for the first half of the show. Lestat mentions them in ep. 1 and when Claudia comes back she tells them ‘You need a housekeeper.’ Not ‘you’re living in a dump’. Not ‘you need to clean’. No, she specifically refers to a housekeeper because as someone who grew up with a certain wealth in the early 1900s she expects servants. And even after that we never see Louis do anything around the house. It’s Claudia who handles the clean up. Yes, Louis is injured but the point remains: Louis does not visibly do any chores.

More than that though, Louis being the one who cleans the house is completely contrary to his characterisation. You’re telling me rich boy Louis, ‘the big man in the big house’ full of servants that we see on screen, the guy who spends his entire human life projecting ‘I’m a powerful and manly man’ would even know how to use a broom? You want me to believe Louis with his fancy suits, expensive shoes, nice sweaters and chic little glasses spends his nights scraping his daughter’s half dried macaroons off the walls? Please. There are several scenes in ep. 2 that imply Louis needs to be taught to take the trash out, let alone that he would know how (or have the time) to clean in an era where that was a lot more difficult than just plug in the vacuum.

Obviously the reasons for this argument is 1) Claudia calling him a housewife, which is clearly an insult aimed at the power dynamic in their relationship and Lestat neatly filling the stereotype of cheating husband in that moment and is absolutely no indication of whether or not Louis is fulfilling any housewifely duties, and 2) the fact that the house falls into disrepair during the depression years.

The thing about that is that for most of that time they’re very clearly both depressed to a point were putting on clothes is too much effort, so neither Louis not Lestat cares about the mess enough to clean it up. But it’s also a correlation isn’t causation incident. Yes, the house became a mess when they got depressed and stopped caring, but they also went no contact with the outside world at the same time. Which means no more servants. When you’re trying to get the world to forget you exist you can’t have people going in and out of your house, gossiping about how no one knows where the masters go during the day but they’re never home, how some of the rooms feel smaller than they should be, the weird stains in the wineglasses or ‘I don’t know what they do with their clothes, Dorothy, but that suit which was perfectly fine last time I saw it, would have easily lasted another ten years, is suddenly gone, like they must have thrown it out and that’s the third suit this year. I mean, I know they’re rich, but such a waste…’ They are depressed so they don’t make an effort to clean up after themselves, but there is no reason to assume the mess gathers because it was Louis’ job to clean up before.

Yes, there are definitely moments in the show when they clearly have the dynamic of a heterosexual couple with Louis occupying the role of the wife to Lestat’s husband. But the opposite is equally true for other parts of the story (you cannot tell me that if those were both white men Lestat during the honeymoon years wouldn’t be 100% read as playing the trophy wife to Louis the businessman). And at no point is any of this because either of them is housewife coded.

It's Been Three Days

Summary: What I'd like to imagine took place in the days following the events of episode 10 - lots of Kazuki sadness, Rei trying his best, hugs and tears, and talking about feelings. Because we haven't really seen much bonding between the two of them in the show! Fic tags: KazuRei, Angst/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Comfort Wordcount: 5.5k Also on AO3! << It's my first ever post on there :D

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It’s such an odd thing to realize just how quickly you get accustomed to the orchestra of background noises that fill your home on a daily basis. The video game jingle that plays on a loop and gradually speeds up when the player is nearing the end of the race. The soft *ka-tak ka-tak ka-tak* of a kitchen knife chopping vegetables on a wooden cutting board. The rhythmic humming of the washer and dryer, constantly running to keep up with the laundry that seemingly never ends. The half-broken toy that plays that awfully annoying song from that popular children’s television series and doesn’t have an off button. The sweet laughter of a young girl who loves spending the day with her papas...

It’s been three days. Three days since that bittersweet family outing and that final ride on the Ferris wheel. Three days without that familiar orchestra of noises. And man, is that silence deafening.

Rei assumed he’d be able to adjust to the quiet atmosphere pretty easily. “I’m used to this, after all”, he thought, having lived in lonely solitude for years before Kazuki came barreling into his life. But even after Kazuki made himself at home in Rei’s apartment, the two of them hardly spent any actual time together, unless it was related to their work. Kazuki would sometimes attempt to start a conversation as he cooked dinner while Rei played his video games in the living room. But he was lucky if he got more than a few words and the occasional “hm” out of Rei, who would normally have his headset on and couldn’t be bothered to pay much attention to his surroundings. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, though. The two of them got along well enough to consider each other friends, and they each trusted one another completely. In their line of work, trusting your partner was essential. So, they were work partners and roommates. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course, that all changed after Kazuki brought Miri home…

The morning after that ride on the Ferris wheel, Rei woke up before Kazuki. This was odd because Rei could count on one hand the number of times he’s been awake before Kazuki. But that day, he didn’t think too deeply about it. He knew that Kazuki was hurting and figured that leaving him alone to work through his emotions was probably the best thing to do. Besides, Rei had no idea how to comfort Kazuki in this situation and feared that he’d only make things worse if he did or said the wrong thing. So he made himself a bowl of cereal, sat down in front of the tv, and turned on some random program, leaving Kazuki to sleep in a little later.

The show Rei had landed on happened to be one he was familiar with, having watched it with Miri every Saturday morning. “Heh. I should record this for her to watch later.” As he grabbed the remote to set up the recording, the reality of the situation came crashing back toward him like a tidal wave. How could he forget so easily? Miri was gone. Knots began to form in Rei’s stomach and he could feel the onset of a migraine. After deciding to turn off the tv, he tossed the remote onto the couch cushion farthest away from him, pushed his barely eaten bowl of cereal toward the middle of the table, and abruptly plopped his whole body down onto the couch. Lying there, staring at the blank tv screen, he thought to himself, “this… sucks,” before drifting back to sleep. When he awoke several hours later, he noticed that no lights had been turned on, no food was cooking, no laundry was being done… there was nothing but silence. Kazuki hadn’t left his room.

The next morning was pretty much the same. Rei awoke to a quiet house, and the door leading to Kazuki’s bedroom remained closed. “Is he actually in his room, or did he go somewhere without telling me?” Rei wondered. “But if that’s the case, he would’ve left a note like last time… right?” Rei checked the front entry area and saw that Kazuki’s shoes and coat were still there in the exact same spot they’d been left the day before last. “Still home…” Once again, Rei made a bowl of cereal for himself but decided to eat at the dining table this time, hoping to avoid a repeat of the tv incident from the day before. After finishing his meal, he booted up his game console but quickly removed the Morio Kart disc that was inside and replaced it with one of his old shooter games. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t played these types of games since Miri started living with them, fearing that the blood and violence would be too much for her to witness. “But I guess Miri did have actual first-hand experience with not one, but two gun fights. Hell, she probably would’ve thought this game looked fun. Maybe I should’ve played it with her…”

Around lunch time, the silence in the room was broken by the sound of Kazuki’s bedroom door finally being opened. Rei whipped his head around so quickly he could have sworn he felt something in his neck pop. But it wasn’t quick enough, as Kazuki had already shut himself in the bathroom. Rei felt like a creep as he stared at the door handle, waiting for it to turn and for Kazuki to emerge from the bathroom. When he finally did, Rei’s voice cracked as he called out, “H-hey. You hungry? I can order a pizza.” Kazuki paused for a moment, but didn’t look up, his gaze locked downward. “No thanks. I’m good.” Before Rei could say anything back, Kazuki was already back in his bedroom closing the door behind him. Rei spent the rest of the afternoon and evening alone. One would think that having a day alone to yourself in a quiet home would be relaxing, especially when your daily routine was typically consumed by chaos. But that was a far cry from this reality. For Rei, the silence weighed on him like he was being pulled further and further under water. It was suffocating, to say the least. He also began to feel incredibly anxious, because he knew that he wanted to comfort Kazuki in some way, but had no idea how to go about it. “I feel totally worthless…”

It was now day three, and Rei had had enough. “I can’t go back to how things were before… I just can’t.” He decided to try his hand at tackling some of the chores around the house. He thought that it would be really pathetic of him to expect Kazuki to continue taking care of everything for him now that Miri was gone. Sure, he’d always done so in the past, but things were different now. Rei realized that Kazuki was only ever truly happy when he had a family to take care of. But now that there was no longer a “family” here, Rei knew deep down that there was a very good possibility of Kazuki leaving. Would it be next month? Next week? Tomorrow? The uncertainty frightened Rei, but he refused to become the same useless mess he’d once been. Well… he had enough determination in this very moment to at least do a load of freaking laundry. Baby steps were better than no steps, right?

So Rei started off his cleaning crusade by sorting through the pile of clothes on his bedroom floor and picking up any stray articles from the living room on his way to the washer. After tossing everything in and latching the door shut, he stood there for a moment staring at all the buttons and knobs. “Why are there so many??” Kazuki had, on several occasions, shown Rei how to operate the machine, pointing out the various features and wash cycles, and showing him exactly how to measure out the soap. But did Rei remember any of that? Absolutely not. But he figured he couldn’t screw it up too much as long as he stuck with the “regular” cycle and only used a little bit of soap. Once everything was set, he hesitantly reached for the Start button and gently pressed it in. The machine came alive with that familiar sloshing sound that he’d so desperately missed these last few days. He relaxed his shoulders, let out a sigh of relief, and smiled to himself. “Nice.”

Suddenly, the soft clack of a door being opened echoed from down the hall. Rei peeked his head around the corner to see if he could catch a glimpse of Kazuki. But alas, he had just missed him yet again. Rei then heard the shower turning on and thought that he really would be a creep if he were to stare at the bathroom door waiting for Kazuki to come back out, like he did yesterday. So instead, he headed toward the living room to start picking up all of his garbage.

**********

Kazuki felt numb.

It’s been three days, and yet that feeling refused to subside. Kazuki struggled to pinpoint exactly what emotion he was feeling about this whole situation. Was he mad? Maybe a little. But when it came down to it, he knew that both Kyu-chan and Misaki were right. Allowing a five-year-old child live with two hitmen was dangerous, and he couldn’t come up with a valid justification to argue otherwise. At least, not one that wouldn’t make him sound like a selfish asshole. Was he sad? Sure. But again, he knew that Miri was safer this way. So how could he truly be sad about the fact that she was safe? He couldn’t. In fact, if he were being rational about the whole thing, he thought he should actually feel quite relieved. “Yeah right… I’m too greedy for that,” he thought. So he wasn’t mad, or sad, or relieved. He was just… numb.

Kazuki knew that it was pathetic of him to hole up inside his bedroom, but he couldn’t help himself. Coming home that night to the sight of toys strewn across the living room floor, child-sized dishes piled in the sink, the basket of pink flowery clothes that needed to be washed… all of it was just so overwhelming. Kazuki couldn’t bring himself to look at any of it, so he ended up going straight to bed that night. Over the next couple of days, he only came out to use the toilet or to grab a quick snack so that he wouldn’t make himself sick. But otherwise, he stayed in bed staring off into space. He felt sort of bad for ignoring Rei, but he knew that Rei struggled with expressing his empathy. Because of that, Kazuki was afraid that he’d end up snapping at Rei for no real reason or accidentally saying something hurtful that he didn’t really mean, knowing damn well that Rei wouldn’t know how to react and would most likely take it personally. So in order to avoid that tension all together, Kazuki chose to avoid Rei for the time being. “I hope he’s at least eating something other than cereal…”

By day three, Kazuki was starting to get sore from lying in bed for so long. “I should probably shower.” On his way to the bathroom, Kazuki could have sworn he heard the washer running. “But there’s no way… I’m not even sure Rei knows how to use the damn thing, even though I’ve shown him a million times.” Kazuki let out a soft chuckle as he turned the knob in the shower all the way to the right. There was a brief squeaking noise before the water started raining down from the shower head, and steam began to gradually build up in the enclosed space. Kazuki started to undress, removing the wrinkled clothes that he’d been wearing for three days straight. He glanced at the reflection of his naked body in the mirror, flinching at the sight. It was obvious that he hadn’t eaten a proper meal nor had he gotten any decent sleep in these last few days. He had dark circles under his puffy eyes, his hair was a greasy mess, and his face looked pale and ashen like a ghost. He was honestly quite grossed out by the state he was in, and felt sort of relieved that Rei hadn’t seen him earlier. After stepping into the shower and under the hot water, Kazuki felt his muscles immediately relax. He stood there unmoving for god knows how long, just letting the water pour over the top of his head and down his face.

Out of nowhere, Kazuki heard what sounded like a gentle knock, followed by silence. He wasn’t sure if he was hearing things or not, so he waited for a moment to see if another knock would come. Instead, he heard the *click* of the door being opened. “…Kazuki? Are you okay? You’ve been in here for a while…” Rei was so quiet that Kazuki could barely hear him over the running water. He pulled back the shower curtain slightly and poked his head out, ready to teasingly chastise Rei for coming into the bathroom while someone was in the shower. But the sight before him almost sent him into a fit of laughter. Rei had his head peeking around the door into the bathroom, but his eyes were tightly shut, scrunching his face. Kazuki thought it was actually quite adorable. “Yeah. I’ll be out in just a few minutes, alright?” he said, with a slight smile on his face that Rei couldn’t see. “Ah, okay then,” Rei said, as he quickly shut the door. Pffft! Kazuki didn’t realize in that moment, but that numb feeling was finally starting to ease, if ever so slightly.

**********

Kazuki walked out of the bathroom to find Rei vacuuming. Rei. Vacuuming. WHAT?! Kazuki was so stunned he nearly dropped the towel that he was rubbing his hair with. He stood there in awe, taking a look around the entire room. Not only was Rei vacuuming, but it looked like he did the dishes and picked up around house as well. “Ha! Maybe I really did hear the washer running this morning!” Rei hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, so when he finally noticed Kazuki standing next to the couch staring at him, he flinched and scrambled to find the power button on the vacuum. “H-hey! You’re out! You hungry? I’ve made something to eat if you’d like some.” Although he still spoke in his low, nearly monotone voice, Rei appeared to be a bit more flustered than Kazuki had ever remembered seeing him before. “Oh yeah? What’d’ya make?” Kazuki was impressed. Rei cleaned and cooked?? “Um… it’s just porridge. I found an easy recipe online. You haven’t eaten these past few days, so I thought maybe your stomach was upset. I figured porridge would be easiest to eat.” Rei felt a little embarrassed to be offering his measly porridge to a guy who practically lives in the kitchen. And let’s be honest, Kazuki doesn’t exactly hold any punches when it comes to critiquing food, so Rei’s worry was justified. Kazuki could tell Rei was nervous, and again had to hold back his laughter. “Why is he being so cute right now? It’s hilarious, but I can’t tease him too much or else he’d probably curl up in a ball and shut down.” Kazuki pulled out a chair at the dining table, sat down, and looked up at Rei with a grin. “I’d love some. Please and thank you!”

And so the two of them sat at the table, quietly eating the porridge that Rei made. Rei cleared his throat, having already decided that he’d had enough of the eerie silence that had been suffocating him over the past three days. “Hey… do you wanna hang out today? Like, together? We don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to. It’s just been really… boring.” Although Rei was definitely trying his best to communicate more with Kazuki, he wasn’t exactly ready to say that he felt lonely and anxious by himself. So he decided to play it off as boredom. Kazuki glanced up at Rei, and to his surprise, Rei was looking right back at him, their eyes locked together. “…Sure. Is there something in particular you wanna do?” Rei hesitated for a moment. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting Kazuki to say yes, and hadn’t really thought this far ahead. “Um… well, we can watch some movies. I guess? Oh but first, we should dry your hair. It’s still wet, and you’ll catch a cold. I’ll dry it for you, if you want.”

“Okay… who the hell is this person and what have they done with Rei?! It’s like the onigiri incident all over again…”

“Ah-haha, it’s okay. It’ll dry on its own. And it’s warm enough in here that I won’t get sick.” Kazuki was truly beside himself. He knew that Rei had started to step up more to take care of Miri. But he couldn’t think of any time before when Rei had offered to take care of him.

“Dude, just let me dry it. I used to do it all the time for Mi- uh… I mean. Well it’s not like you haven’t done the same for me before, so just shut up and let me do it, okay?” Rei scratched his head, annoyed with himself for almost bringing up Miri. He told himself just this morning that he would avoid saying her name in front of Kazuki at all costs, not wanting to upset him. But Kazuki wasn’t upset and could see how frustrated Rei looked. “Okay then. You can dry my hair.”

Rei sat on the couch, his legs far enough apart for Kazuki to sit on the floor between his feet. Kazuki held his knees close to his chest, his chin resting on top of them. The loud whirring of the hair dryer filled the air around them, as Rei ran his fingers through Kazuki’s soft hair. “Fluffy…” Rei absolutely kept that thought to himself, and could feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I can’t even remember the last time someone’s dried my hair. Maybe when Yuzuko and I first started dating?” Kazuki thought back on the memories of all those years ago and smiled. “But man, this does feel nice. And he’s being so gentle, it almost tickles. And this warmth… I could fall asleep.” A few moments later, the loud whirring ceased and Kazuki jolted in place, having truly almost fallen asleep. “All done,” Rei said in a soft voice. “Aw man, already? That was so relaxing!” Although Kazuki was only teasing, the words were true, nonetheless. “Um… I can brush your hair now, if you’d like? I don’t mind.” Although his words were nonchalant, Rei looked almost excited. And who was Kazuki to say no to that? “Okay.” Rei got up to find a hairbrush and returned in a flash to continue playing with Kazuki’s hair.

After a while, Kazuki was the first to break the silence. “Ya know, I really thought the three of us would be together forever.” He let out a soft chuckle before continuing. “How silly is that?” Rei paused for a moment, surprised by the topic of conversation. He didn’t think Kazuki was ready to talk about this yet. Before Kazuki could notice that his hands had stopped moving, Rei started running the brush through Kazuki’s hair once more.

“Like, I actually thought, ‘Hey! This is my second chance! I can build a life with these two, and we can be a real family. We can be happy.’ Why did I get my hopes up? I should’ve known this would all end eventually. I mean come on. Look at us. Two hitmen raising a child together? That’s some shit straight out of a manga. It could never actually work in the long run.” Kazuki closed his eyes and held his hand over his face, gently rubbing the furrowed skin between his eyebrows.

Rei was thankful that he was sitting behind Kazuki, and that Kazuki was unable to see his face in that moment. Because he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and could only imagine what sort of twisted expression his face was in.

“Hey, Kazuki?”

“Hm?”

“Are you… going to leave?”

“Leave? What do ya mean? Where’m I going?” Kazuki realized he sounded slightly exasperated and hoped that Rei didn’t pick up on it.

“I know… I know that you want a family. And now that Miri… now that it’s just the two of us, we aren’t really a family anymore, are we? So are you going to leave now?”

Kazuki could hear the slight hitch in Rei’s voice, and quickly turned around to face him. Rei’s eyebrows were contorted and his cheeks were flushed red. And his bottom lip trembled.

Kazuki panicked. “What?? What are you talking about? Why would I leave?”

“Because it’s not safe for you either! The organization… they’ve already made it very clear.”

“But that was just about Miri, right? It was about our work getting sloppy, yeah? But she’s safe with Misaki now. And we’ll just go back to how things used to be.” As much as it pained him to admit, Kazuki knew that the words coming out of his mouth were true.

“No! It wasn’t just about Miri… it’s more than that.” Rei paused and closed his eyes for a moment, attempting to level his breathing. He then looked directly at Kazuki with glistening eyes and spoke more softly. “Don’t you get it? I’m a Suwa. I’m expected to continue the Suwa family line, and to take over the family business. But I…” Rei closed his eyes again and shook his head. “I don’t want to! I don’t want to…” Rei could feel the hot tears welling up in his eyes and failed to keep them from breaking through.

“Then what do you want?” Kazuki said in a soft, low voice. He could tell that Rei was terrified and could feel the adrenaline coursing through his own veins, causing his hands to shake. The only word he could think of to describe this feeling was protective. It was almost as if he was prepared to single-handedly take down anyone and everyone who had caused the man in front of him to break down in tears. Because anyone who was able to cause this normally emotionless man this much pain… deserved to suffer.

“I just… I just want our family back. But I know that’s not possible right now, and it may never be possible again, no matter how much I miss Miri. And god, I miss her so much… But above all, I want her to be safe. So I know that she needs to stay with Misaki. And I also know that you’d be safer, too, if you left… if you got as far away from me as possible. But Kazuki… I can’t. I can’t lose you, too.” By now, Rei was no longer able to hold back the flood of tears rolling down his cheeks, and his breaths were coming in short, shallow bursts.

In the blink of an eye, Kazuki had gotten up, positioned himself next to Rei on the couch, and pulled him into his arms, holding him close to his chest. Kazuki’s left hand cradled the back of Rei’s head, while his right hand gently stroked the space between his shoulder blades.

“Rei. Listen to me. I’m not leaving you. I will never leave you. You hear me? We ARE a family. Even if it’s just you and me. We can still be a family. Alright? So stop crying. Please, stop crying.” Kazuki tried with all his might to comfort Rei, but could feel that he himself was on the verge of breaking down.

“But… you deserve a real family, Kazuki. You deserve to be with someone you love. You deserve to be a papa. Because you’re such a good papa…” Rei buried his face in the crook of Kazuki’s neck, attempting to stifle the constant sniffling. He desperately grasped at Kazuki’s shirt, pulling it back so much that it was nearly choking Kazuki. But Kazuki didn’t say anything nor did he stop Rei.

“Rei, you deserve those things, too. You also deserve to be with someone you love. You deserve happiness.”

“But I AM with someone…!” Rei let the sentence trail off, surprised by the words that he’d nearly blurted out, and paused to catch his breath. “I was happy with our family. And I’m happy with you. I’d never known that feeling before, until I met you. And having Miri with us… made it so much more obvious. So I know I’m being selfish by asking you to stay with me. But I don’t want to give up any more of my happiness. I don’t want to go back to how things were before. I can’t go back. So Kazuki, please… I’ll try harder, I promise. I’ll clean more and I’ll learn how to cook and I won’t complain as much. And I’ll protect you. I’ll do anything to protect you. So please…” At this point Rei was sobbing so much that he began to ramble and his words were somewhat difficult to understand. But Kazuki continued to hold Rei in a tight embrace, gently stroking his hair to try and calm him down.

“Hey shhhh, I already said I’m staying, didn’t I? So try to calm down, okay? I’m not going anywhere. And hey, you did so good today with the chores! I was so impressed. And your porridge was delicious. Make it for me again sometime, will ya?”

Rei nodded, his face still pressed against Kazuki’s collar bone. “Yeah, okay.”

Kazuki slowly pulled away from Rei, holding both of his hands in his own between the two of them. “Have you calmed down a bit?” Rei nodded without saying anything. The tears finally stopped, but his face looked a mess. Kazuki reached his right hand up to gently rub Rei’s cheek. “Good. Ya know, I must say… you’ve been acting awfully cute today. I’m not used to it,” Kazuki said, letting out a small sigh of relief mixed with a faint laugh.

“Shut up!” Although he had meant to sound forceful with his words, Rei instead sounded like a whiny teenage girl, which made him feel even more embarrassed and caused a fresh wave of blood to rush back up to his cheeks. He then realized that his face probably looked absolutely ridiculous after his meltdown and attempted to wipe his eyes and turn his head away so that he was no longer facing Kazuki.  

But Kazuki only found this to be even more endearing, and immediately guided Rei’s face back to where he could see it more clearly. He then positioned his hand so that he cupped Rei’s chin in his palm, with his cheeks squished between Kazuki’s thumb and four fingers. “Heheh fish lips.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the sight and at the fact that Rei was even letting him mess with his face like this in the first place. Truly, he was not used to this side of Rei. But he was enjoying himself.

Kazuki’s laughter eventually trailed off, but he kept Rei’s face cupped in his hand, lightly squeezing his cheeks. Then the expression on his face softened as he continued to stare at Rei’s puckered mouth. After what was probably only thirty seconds, but felt like hours, Kazuki locked eyes with Rei. “Hw-hwat?” Rei stuttered, unable to enunciate due to the squished cheeks. He wondered how long Kazuki was going to hold his face like this and why he just kept staring. If he was being honest, he was starting to feel a bit uneasy. Rei had never really had anyone look at his face for this long or this closely before. He felt almost naked.

“Rei. Have you ever kissed anyone?” Kazuki maintained eye contact after asking the question, so he was able to see the exact moment the pupils in Rei’s deep blue eyes constricted to half their size.

“HUH??! What kind of question is that??” Rei flailed, yanking his face away and batting Kazuki’s hand down. “Seriously, what the hell??”, he thought to himself.

“Aww, come on. I’m just curious! You’re acting so adorable today, and I wondered if anyone else has ever seen you like this.” Kazuki already knew that Rei had probably never been in a real relationship before, so the words he spoke were only a joke. Still, he found himself slightly annoyed at the thought of someone else experiencing this side of Rei, but decided to keep that thought to himself.

“Why should I even tell you?” Rei continued to swat Kazuki away, but Kazuki was relentless.

“Hehe so I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“Ugh! Why do you even care??”

Quicker than Rei could stop him, Kazuki grabbed Rei’s face again, this time sandwiched between both of his hands. “Because. I do care. I care about you. And if we’re going to be a family, I want to know everything about you.”

Rei stopped resisting, and just stared back at Kazuki. “He looks so serious now…”

Kazuki’s gaze lowered slightly, and Rei realized just where he was looking. His mouth. Rei then noticed that Kazuki was slowly leaning closer toward him. “He’s not… ACTUALLY going to kiss me, is he?!” Rei didn’t know how to react, so all he could think to do was close his eyes and brace for impact.

Kazuki paused in his tracks and smiled to himself. Rei had his eyes tightly shut, reminding him of earlier that day in the bathroom. “He’s so funny.” Kazuki continued leaning in, closing his eyes and gently kissing Rei on the forehead.

Rei’s eyes shot open in surprise. A forehead kiss was NOT what he was anticipating, and he felt a little ashamed for expecting something different. But that feeling of shame melted away the moment he met Kazuki’s gaze once more and saw the slight shade of pink on the apples of his cheeks as he smiled a goofy grin. Rei couldn’t help but smile back and let out a soft, breathy laugh.

Kazuki carefully pulled his hands away from Rei’s face and stretched out his arms, taking a deep breath and letting out a loud sigh. “Haaaaahhh! So. Should we watch a movie now? Was there one you wanted to watch?” Kazuki leaned back into the couch, but not before pulling Rei to his side and wrapping his arm around him, his hand on Rei’s bicep. In this position, Rei was able to rest his head on Kazuki’s chest just under his arm, but he wasn’t sure where to put his hands. One arm was stuck behind Kazuki against the back cushion, so he didn’t really have a choice there. But the other was left out in front, hovering over Kazuki’s lower stomach. Rei hesitated for a moment, but finally thought, “Screw it,” and set his arm down so that it lay across Kazuki’s waist. After receiving no complaint from Kazuki about where his hand fell, Rei tightened his grip on Kazuki’s side ever so slightly and nestled even further into place. “He’s warm,” he thought. “This is nice…”

“Any movie is fine. Whatever you wanna watch.” Rei honestly didn’t care about the movie. He was just happy to be spending time with Kazuki. Happy to be pulled out of the suffocating silence.

“Hey, Rei?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for avoiding you these last couple of days. It was nothing against you. So I hope you didn’t get too lonely.”

“…I was lonely. But it’s okay. I understood what you were feeling.”

“I might get like that again… I mean, I’m feeling a little better now. But it comes in waves. Ya know?”

“Yeah… I get it.”

“Then will you cuddle with me to make me feel better?” Kazuki said playfully.

“Yes.”

Kazuki only said that to tease Rei, so he wasn’t expecting him to respond so quickly or so matter-of-factly. But he found that Rei’s response made him insanely giddy. Kazuki tightened his hold on Rei, pulling him in even closer. “Good. That makes me happy.”

“…” Rei didn’t know how to respond, but knew that he, too, felt happy in that moment.

It’s been three days. And there was no telling how many more it would take before things finally started to feel normal again. Or maybe things would never feel normal again. Maybe there was a hell storm coming their way that they weren’t at all prepared for. These were all possibilities that they had to consider. But as they sat there embracing each other’s warmth, Kazuki and Rei both knew that they’d be okay, as long as they were together. If one was suffering, the other would be there to help pick up the pieces. If one was happy, the other would be there to celebrate in their joy. After all, isn’t that just what a family is?

After heavily abusing fentanyl for years, I’ve made it to day 1000 of my recovery from the drug that stole my soul.

One night, my friend pulled out some white powder and offered it to me. Then, I lost the next several years of my life.

I still vividly remember how excruciating making it even 24 hours was. It was pure agony. I have never felt such pain in my life. I’ve never faced a struggle so great, than what I went through to stop using fentanyl.

I’m lucky to be alive. I used massive quantities of fentanyl on a daily basis. I used alone, and overdosed several times — and that’s only the ones that I remember. I am so lucky I woke up.

I relapsed dozens of times. I would make it a day or two, or a week, or sometimes even a month, and then I would crumble from the suffering and use again. I used despite hospitalization. I used while in rehab. But every time I relapsed, I learned something. It all ultimately built up to my being able to stick with it for a significant period of time. I was never going to get it on my first try. I needed to claw my way repeatedly out of rock bottom to become exhausted enough to genuinely NOT want to go back to the fent.

Post-acute withdrawal syndrome haunted me for months. Chronic pain in my legs and extreme depression and anxiety landed me in the psych ward for feeling suicidal. But one day, finally, I woke up and realized I hadn’t noticed any pain in awhile, and I cried in relief.

When I was using fentanyl I failed my senior year of college over and over. I lost job after job. Today, I have my bachelors and my career is thriving.

I’m happy, and there was a very long time where I thought I couldn’t be happy anymore unless I was using fentanyl.

But, just as importantly, I’ve been sad. I’ve been depressed. Bad things have continued to happen, as life does, and I’ve made it through these hardships fentanyl free.

Fentanyl stole my soul, and I fought through every layer of hell to take it back.

Thank you for listening.

Personal mental health masterpost:

Hey, so I’m making this post to give some clarity into my situation for anyone that cares so there is a mutual understanding; especially because I tend to spiral in real-time on tumblr

Preface: I know this is my blog but I don’t want that to be a basis for my deflecting the responsibility of my own mental well being onto others and make people suffer because of it, especially because when I’m down I’m extremely avoidant, self-centred, and may be unintentionally callous (no I’m not just saying that lightly, I’ve been in so many situations on tumblr and IRL that I say something that is extremely insensitive but that wasn’t my intent leading to so many “sha you can’t say no one cares I’m talking to you/sitting here with you how can you say that”) and I need to also own up to that and admit that sometimes my feelings are false and my thought process is jagged

I’ve hurt someone that is really important to me on here multiple times over this and sadly but deservedly they will never be in my life again (though they will always be important to me). I don't want this to be an insincere "I'm sorry I was wrong, please forgive me" but rather to come clean and say that it has happened and I just want to make sure I take actions so that no one who cares about me on here will ever go through the same situation with me; I love the connections I have tumblr beyond words so it's time I act as such

The crux of my dilemma: as I'm sure you all know, I don't desire much to be alive for multiple reasons that I wont get into, and I cant really end my life because I am practically unable to inflict such harm onto other people just because I'm having a hard time. I have exhibited suicidal behaviours irl numerous times but each time I either went through it successfully with coping, asking for help (usually on tumblr), and if worse comes to worst asking to be hospitalized (which happened 6 months ago after I lost my job). It's complicated to talk about so feel free to send asks or DMs if you want to know more, I do exhibit suicidal behaviours on here (by talking or implying how much I don't want to be alive and saying that I'm in unbearable pain, both of which are true) but I seldom think I'm a danger to myself. I would say I have more suicidal ideations (henceforth SI) than behaviours.

I was first diagnosed with depression when I was 21, by 24 I was diagnosed with major depression (clinical) along with GAD, OCD (obsessive in negative thinking), later at 26 with ADHD, and, last year with a mood disorder (yet to be configured, consensus right now is that it is just very unstable mood)

The mood instability is important to highlight because I can pretty much show you days in which my posts go from cheery to mellow throughout the course of a single day.

Tumblr to me is a very personal and emotional scrapbook, when my mood crashes or i get triggered by something, and go on an SI spiral, first thing that happens is that i panic really hard especially because I get caught in the trap of "oh I have to live again tomorrow and experience all of this again and live my life with this mind" and when I'm in that trail of thought, shit goes south real fast and I start having physiological symptoms; I can't breathe properly, I get chills etc. so it's either I sit with those feelings by myself (because I'm not brave enough and trust many people IRL to seek help; something I'm working on) or, I release it onto here as posts. I know it's odd but in my mind having a breakdown in public (similar to my tumblr outbursts) is more helpful in that people either ignore you in which case you will have sense to know that there is none but yourself that can bring you up in which case you pull yourself together and move forward, or people do take notice and show kindness and support and help you fight your way through to see another day. Whatever the case, at least your not weeping alone so to speak. It sounds callous and even attention seeking but i don’t believe it’s inherently wrong, it’s a call for help.

The attention seeking part of it I concede my approach is terrible and I’m such an asshole for constantly firing from the hip with saying shit like “I don’t want to be alive, Im better off dead” and other things of the same ilk no matter how much I mean it and feel the depth of those words so closely. I will be better; when I’m emotional I’m not rational so I don’t do what I always do, step back and think am I approaching this person correctly. My cousin told me “if you’re having a hard time, than don’t say things like that to freak me out… say hey K I’m a bit sad today, I need a hug, I need some love, I need to get out of my head a little”

I'm taking mood stabilizers twice a day, whilst this has been deemed to be enough since I tend to have a strong outward facade and keep composed if my mood falters until I'm alone in my room and my interactions with people irl has been functional, I fear it's not enough and I may have to bring it up even though it means more meds (which btw coincidentally my mother just walked in my room reminding my of my next psychiatrist appointment soon). It's just very hard to bring up my tumblr behaviour up in therapy because as soon as I'm honest about my posting, they will just want to hospitalize me... it's not conceivable in most people's minds that yes I dont wish to be alive but I don't necessarily want to kill myself.

Which brings me to this part regarding my etiquette on tumblr:

All text posts pertaining to my mental health, should it imply SI I will tag as "SI posting"

I will NOT be tagging really sad songs as of now, but I can certainly do that if people would like me to

When I post something concerning you can choose to ignore me altogether if you'd like I will not hold it against anyone or be upset or fall prey to the line of thinking that "no one cares" because I know beyond a doubt that people actually DO care

If you do see such a post and want to help me genuinely, interacting with the post (like or comment or whatever) however small helps me so much and makes me feel so much less alone and gives me strength to push through

You can also start a conversation with me and talk about anything at all that also gets my mind off of things

I promise ill try my hardest to just ask for support instead of just posting extremely concerning text posts

EDIT: im also open and welcome any suggestions people may have on this matter and how I can be better

I keep my promises very seriously and just over a week ago I promised someone I really care about that I will try and be better and I very much intend to do that.

Thank you so much for patience and kindness and just not giving up on me when at times I've given you ample reasons to do so, I love you so much

Much love

I was thinking that it’s so easy to have an understanding and welcoming discourse with depressed and suicidal people on the internet because, on the internet, we talk about hypothetical depression and suicide.

In real life, on a day-to-day basis, depressed people are annoyances— that is, if they don’t go unnoticed. In the imaginary ideal, depressed people are those you perceive to be sad, to whom you reach out, and they accept it. You feel good about being able to help, and everyone lives happily ever after.

But, in reality, depressed people are not pleasant to live with. They are the friends who don’t go out, who don’t respond, and who are unnecessarily rude. You try to help, and the person doesn’t give you an opening—and many people are offended by this. “If they don’t want to be helped, what can I do?” or “How am I going to help if they’re being such a bitch?” and they even take things personally: “They say they’re alone, but I’m here trying to be a friend, and they don’t think about me”. In fact, the depressed person doesn’t think about you. But this is not about you.

In reality, depressed people are employees who cause trouble. They are absent, they do poorly done work, and they give extra work to others. No company wants such an employee. In reality, depressed people are difficult students. They are absent, they are dispersed in class, they don’t do the activities, and they don’t change their behavior even if you call their attention and talk a thousand times. No matter how much good will there is, the teacher will end up losing patience at some point. In the imaginary ideal, it is enough to extend a hand but in reality, it requires an altruism that we are not used to having. You’ll probably get upset if your depressed friend doesn’t go to your birthday, cancels plans with you at the last minute, or goes months without paying you much attention. You’ll probably get fed up with having to deal with that person’s general discouragement all the time.

And then, there are the depressed people who go to all the hangouts and laugh all the time, who do a super efficient job, and who are the best students in the class. By the time you realize there’s something wrong, maybe it’s too late.

It is absurd for a person to kill themselves and for everyone around them to be deeply surprised. Signs were everywhere. But realizing it requires attention, and helping takes work.

Nobody wants to admit to themselves that they didn’t pay enough attention and you can’t blame others for what drives someone to kill themselves. But I keep thinking about how much more welcoming depressed people would feel if they had the understanding of phrases made on the internet in their daily lives.

Weird question: but does anyone feel inadequate due to how ‘unseen’ they feel?

Like, I'm in my mid-30s. I feel like I’m old and fat. I can count on my fingers all the times I’ve ‘caught’ a guy looking me over in *that* way.

I dress for myself - for comfort. I don’t wear make up. I try to look presentable, but I know that I fall short in a lot of ways.

I try to make my self worth be about me, and how I feel about me, and what I love about my personality/values etc, but I feel like a complete bush pig that’s not worthy of love and knowing that I can see men that I find attractive, but also feeling completely invisible except to be a waste of space.

And…it, like…hurts. A lot. It hurts a lot to want to be beautiful and sexy and to be constantly barraged with the message that if you’re not hot and fuckable to men you’re nothing, and knowing that you fall on the latter scale more than the former. It hurts to see girls that look like me or better matched up. It hurts to see girls who seem have easily slotted into universal beauty standards call themselves fat and ugly and not good enough because they’re wearing track pants to target or they ate a big meal. It hurts to see someone announce a pregnancy or an engagement and just feel so…nothing. Like you’ll never be good enough for love or anything…really.

And the thing is…I know I’ve been programmed to feel this way. So I buy thousands of dollars of bullshit like expensive clothes that I feel uncomfortable in or bullshit beauty treatments. That I should get someone to suck all my fat out and mould them into an amazing set of tits and ass, that I should dye my hair and wear high heels and false eyelashes and have a tiny waist and dick sucking lips etc. And that I’ll feel lonely enough to settle for some piece of shit who sits on my couch all day and plays GOW or something and demands chicken wings on a 4 hourly basis only to flop into bed for incredibly unsatisfying sex on my end whilst he snores and I scrub the kitchen with a toothbrush to work through my self disgust at the fact that I was completely fine alone but I’ve chosen Barney Rubble and his garlic mayo farts over working on my self enough to die alone.

I feel like a dipshit. An incredibly alone and depressed dipshit.

I want the fairytale, the nice wedding and babies. I want to feel seen and wanted and love. But I also know it’s a trap and that either if I pursue that I’ll be worse off or it will never make me happy. I want to be able to work on myself enough to be happy as I am, but it’s just not there. Or there’s too much shit to deal with first (childhood trauma, cPTSD that bullshit).

I feel like a puzzle piece that’s been burned that expected to find its match but also be enlightened enough to just be as is but I have a giant whole that’s been burned out of me and I don’t know how to mend it and everything I’ve been taught from a young child has been that I need someone else to fix or fill it and nothing will be able to do that because I’ve been fucking burnt and have a giant burn mark in my centre, so I’m unfixable - only transformable but I don’t know how to do that, only fix, not transform, only fix…

Update on Adrian:

Hey folks. I haven’t text updated anyone in a while. I’m not doing very well.

I’m dealing with a lot of changes- some planned, some abrupt- and I’m very depressed and in struggling to find reason in all of this chaos I’ve kind of broken my brain. My transition has been smooth, and I’m feeling more myself in my body than I ever have, despite the cramps and such. That said, my mind is still having some issues catching up.

I’m coming to terms with the fact that I am not one person. I’m five. I’m a plural system of personalities and characters that many of you know about but I’ve been Adrian this whole time, I’m still gonna BE Adrian. I’m just not alone in my head and that’s okay.I’m learning to come to terms with a lot of things, between my transition from male to female, the severe depression I deal with on a daily basis and the world crumbling around me, it’s all very overwhelming and I have a hard time coping with everything, everywhere, all at once.*

I have to constantly say to myself that everything will be okay because I have to believe it, or so everyone tells me. It is hard to believe that though, when I see so much strife and pain and hurt happening to the world, to people I know, to family, to significant others. It’s hard to see through the solid darkness that is borne from that. I’m holding myself together best I can, and the twine holding me together is snapping. I need support. I know I have friends and family that love and support me and want to see me succeed. I know these things are real, but depression makes it hard to see. It’s hard to see the bright side when everything is painted in that super dark black paint.

I have also been coping with a diagnosis that I am very likely autistic and have been masking every aspect of my life up to this point for everyone else’s benefit. I’ll go into it in another post.

I hope everyone is having a good day.

- Adrian, Cameron, Sebastian, Trevor, and Wally. 

We’ve been here all along. We’re gonna be okay.

「☆ about the writer ☆」

hi! i’m anny, i’m an indian-american. bisexual/demisexual, twenty-something year old getting my doctorate in clinical psychology and just trying to hold my life together by the seams.

i’m a double taurus with pretty bad social anxiety. i’m pretty scared to initiate friendship but once i’m there i’ll never leave you alone. so please feel free to spam me with asks and messages!

i tend to hyperfixate on things in typical nd fashion. my current main interests include (but are not limited to):

stray kids (obv)

i bias minho and seungmin but i am definitely ot8 and am wrecked by the other 6 on a daily basis

jujutsu kaisen

honkai star rail and genshin impact

i’m a huge fan of keith harig and his artwork. i love talking about crime and the human brain. i have 25+ tattoos and 15 piercings and i only see those numbers increasing in the future. i operate out of the eastern time zone but with my sleep schedule you couldn’t tell. i also stan ateez (hongjoong/seonghwa bias), monsta x (changkyun bias), and enhyphen (jake/heesung/jungwon bias) but i don’t see myself ever writing for those groups. but i do love them. i'm also a gg fiend i love women wow women beautiful.

rules:

i have three blogs - my main (rachalixie) is a sfw only blog, my side (racha-recs) is what i use for reblogging and reccing, and my last one (tasteracha) is where i post and interact with nsfw content. feel free to interact with any of them! just make sure you’re 18+ for the last one.

i will try my best to respond to each and every request, unless i feel uncomfortable with the content. it might take me a few days or even a couple weeks, but i promise i see the requests and am working on getting them done for you! if you’re off anon i will prioritize your request, especially if you’re someone i’ve seen reblogging and commenting on my works. some topics i feel uncomfortable writing are: eating disorders, self harm, severe mental illness (depression/anxiety/nd etc. are fine), body weight issues, anything concerning the idol’s real life family, anything non-con (cnc is fine). if it’s something really specific i encourage you to donate to my ko-fi, since i try to make my fics enjoyable by everyone and really specific ones don’t really get traction. i give each request a try but if inspiration doesn’t hit i’ll set it aside. i don’t mean to not fill requests, but i can’t force myself to write things if there are no ideas in my head! i’m trying my best, please be patient with me <3

please talk to me! send me messages! send me asks! if you’re shy, don’t worry i am too! i want to get to know you all and be friends. <3

please, please leave feedback. not just on my works, on every author’s. if you reblog, leave a couple tags. add some comments. message us or send us an ask. don’t just like and leave, it’s incredibly discouraging.

i make all the gifs that i use on my posts, whether it be on fics, gifsets, or whatever else i may choose to post in the future. i don’t mind if you use them, just please give proper credit. my watermarks are on them. along those lines, please do not plagiarize or repost my works without my permission.

lastly, i want to express my appreciation for each and every person who (respectfully) interacts with me and my posts. i’ve been writing for years and years and i’ve just gotten the courage to post my work, and it means the world to me that you all take the time out of your day to read my content. i will keep trying my best to put out better and better content for you!! <3

if you made it this far here is my face hehe

SteveTony Weekly - May 8th

Happy Sunday!! Here’s what I’ve been reading this week. As always, leave your fic authors some love if you read and enjoy their stories! 

**Indicates my recent favs 

~*~ 

***Compass Points You Home by foldingcranes

Dear Sharon, Steve thinks, almost with maddening euphoria, stumbling over some rocks as the waves lap at him and his body finally gives itself to shock. You’re not going to believe what happened today.

Then, he passes out.

Uncharted waters by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)

"Remember that favor you owed me?"

It takes Tony less than two seconds to remember and his confused expression turns to wry caution. "I remember. What about it?"

"I'm cashing it in."

A dark brow arches up in surprise, "What's the favor?"

Steve nods over at the shaving kit. "Help me shave."

--

TL;DR: Tony helps Steve shave off his grief beard (and things are all /wriggly arms)

***I'm Not Really a Waitress (The Swan out of Duckling Remix) by Sineala

Steve asks Tony to paint his nails for him.

as they learned to see by often_adamanta

Tony stayed silent through her terse explanation, anger growing. When Natasha was finished, he asked, “So you’re telling me that Steve’s been missing for almost two months, most likely kidnapped by an unknown organization, a force which employs two brilliant but completely crazy scientists that hate Stark Industries because they were refused jobs on the basis of their psych evals, and I’m only hearing about this now?”

Steve Rogers (Extremely) Limited Adventures In Pet Sitting by IronSwordStarShield (SweetFanfics)

5 times Steve Rogers was asked to pet sit one of his friends pets and the 1 time he has a romantic-existential crisis that's got nothing to do with pet sitting and everything to do with realizing his feelings for Tony at the worst possible time.

Together, At Last by NightsOfTheFilms

It’s been 5 years since A-Day, and Tony Stark was in dyer need of some company. Living on his family’s retreat, alone and depressed, he hoped for a change.

That is until, on a rainy night, a visitor greets him at his doorstep. A man who was supposed to be dead, all these years. A conversation is had, and confessions are made.

Our House in Pleasant Hill (Building Your Home Remix) by navaan

Tony met Steve on a Thursday and he remembered it clearly.

***Fool's Gold (The Snowglobe Remix) by dirigibleplumbing

Sometimes, Steve and Tony's life in the idyllic town of Pleasant Hill just feels...off.

One Night with You (is not going to be enough) by alexcat

Steve picks up a gorgeous stranger who turns out to be Tony Stark, who he's never seen without his Iron Man armor. Things go wonky, but with some patience and help, they go right.

No Surprises by dirigibleplumbing 

Tony (and Nebula) crash-land on the lawn of Avenger’s compound. The first person Tony sees when he steps out of the wreckage is Steve. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or furious that Steve has survived, too. Somehow, the world keeps going. Tony mostly keeps going too—and figures out how to feel about Steve.

Steve Rogers Does (Not Do) Marriage Counseling by Neverever 

Natasha and Clint are kidnapped by HYDRA during a routine mission. Steve and Tony have to go undercover as a married couple at a couples counseling weekend to uncover where they're being held. Except they had kissed at the SHIELD holiday party the day before and Tony doesn't want to talk about it. What is Steve going to do?

Three Challenges by Neverever 

King Steve is offered a marriage alliance with the mysterious Prince Tony which will help his small country greatly. Except that there is a twist. There always is.

Scars and Stitches by Sineala

When Tony shows up to SHIELD to be fitted with the Iron Man armor, Steve, the original Iron Man, is there to help him out.

Stanley Cups Before Wedding Rings by JehBeeEh

Steve Rogers and his team just won the most coveted trophy in hockey. And yet, that's still not the best part of his night.

P.S. by IronDadStan 

Tony leaves for a job opportunity, leaving Steve and the life they built behind.

So, what happens when Tony is planning on moving back home after two years abroad and dials Steve's number?

Battlefield Medicine by Anni Re (AnniRe)

Instead of the quiet Saturday morning they were hoping for, Steve and Tony wake up to discover that their son, Peter, has been critically injured. In the same instance Iron Man and Captain America discover their son is Spiderman. So much for an uneventful weekend.

***Baby One More Time by BlossomsintheMist

“And your color now?” Tony said. He was moving around behind him, Steve thought, and then told himself to lay off. He didn’t need to analyze Tony’s every movement; this wasn’t a mission. He didn’t need to be Commander Rogers right now, wasn’t that the whole point?

Well, maybe he needed Tony’s help with that. Maybe that was the whole point.

“Green,” he breathed out into the covers over the bed.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot by Neverever

When Tony is terribly hurt during a fight with the Black Order, Steve takes a leap of faith and summons a portal to find help. He finds help in a very unexpected way.

once a day, every day by silkspectred

Looking back on it, Tony tries to understand how he could have been possibly fooled.

The man doesn’t smell like Steve. He doesn’t walk like Steve, doesn’t talk like Steve.

He only looks like Steve, and yet everyone, including Tony, believed that he was Steve. For months.

Love Across the Multiverse by Sineala

Mojo presents: Love Across the Multiverse! In tonight's episode, a battle-hardened supersoldier finds himself drawn to his handsome, genius teammate! It's an agonizing duel between his long-held beliefs and the secret passions of his heart! Will true love conquer all? There's only one way to find out! Don't miss the highlight of the season!

(Viewer discretion is advised. Mojoworld residents who do not vote for their favorite participants of the season will be summarily sent to the arena. All hail Mojo.)

we have nothing but our winter by meidui

“You have to kill me,” Steve says, almost pleading. His ankles and wrists are red and raw where he’s been straining against the cuffs, and it hurts to look at. “You have to. HYDRA’s in my head and I’m going to kill the Avengers.”

No Ordinary Love by 51stCenturyFox

Thanks to a magical spell by invading aliens from another realm, Tony Stark becomes a woman...for three months.

Obviously there's no way he's not going to take his new body for a test drive. And who better to help him with it that our very own Captain America, Steve Rogers, the straighter-than-a-ruler guy he's been falling in love with totally against his will and who's finally noticing him now...

if i should stumble by AvengersTime

"The gunshot wound had been too infected, in between the lack of care and the blood loss there was no choice but to amputate the leg from above the knee and down."

Tony's captivity had changed everything about him, he gained and lost valuable things, and led him to be Iron Man. He's perfectly okay with his secrets to remain secrets, but he didn't expect his team to actually care. Also, unconsciously falling in love with Captain America was definitely not part of the plan.

Writing Talkative/Outgoing Characters

When I’m happy and in a good mood, I’m really talkative. Like...really talkative. You have no idea how many jokes are cracked at my expense haha. 

Of course, every character is different, just like people. But these are some things I wanted to discuss based on my personal experience with being a very outgoing and talkative person. 

This is going to be long, but hopefully it gives some of y’all insight into a brain kind of like mine? 

We still get tired of talking to people and do need time alone. 

It’s just easier for me to talk for *literal hours* (sometimes, this definitely isn’t for everyone) to friends, especially with caffeine or sugar. I find that the longer I talk to a person, the more talkative I get and the less awkward I am. 

I have introverted siblings who are drained socially after a couple hours, and that’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with being introverted. It’s not a character flaw. It’s part of who a person is. Extroverted people simply have an easier time with extended social interaction.

I get tired after a day of socializing, okay? I want to be alone in my room and draw or read a good book instead of hanging out with people. That’s fine. 

Depending on the person/people, it’s really easy to be talkative. And sometimes...it’s really, really hard to find anything to say.

With my best friend, it’s easy to move past small talk after just a couple minutes of being together. With her, I could have a deep conversation and talk for an hour with her about the same topic. Lots of words, laughter, etc. Very comfortable atmosphere, because we get each other. 

She’s a little less rowdy, so it’s a good balance and we can carry a strong conversation. 

Now...there are people I’m not as close to, find harder to talk to, or outright dislike. And it can even be hard for me to find small talk when I’m approached by them or I have to speak to them for some reason. Mind just goes blank. So...not very talkative in those cases.

Depression is different for everybody, including talkative and outgoing people. 

When I get depressed or feel low, I talk less and do less. Those are very common symptoms for extroverted or more outgoing people, and it’s really noticeable. I get a lot of people asking if I’m okay because I’m not talking, even if I’m not actually feeling down and am just thinking. 

Motivation to go and see people? Nah. 

Desire to talk to people, even family?

But not everybody experiences those things. Some characters could get really quiet, others could get even louder when they get depressed or stressed. It’s different for everyone.

Rambling, rambling, rambling. 

Again, not everyone does this. But I definitely do. I get stuck on a topic, and bam. I’m gone. 

Rambling about any little facet of the subject, packing so many unneeded details into the hilarious story that it isn’t even funny anymore? Hey, that book I read last week and love so much but have no one else to talk to? Guess who’s getting all the details...haha...

That’s me. 

You mess words up a lot. 

Hahaha...this one’s funny in real life situations. 

When you say a lot of words, you tend to mess them up. Sentences run into each other, you call that one person by approximately ten names before you get the right one, you end up gasping for breath to finish a sentence.

All things I experience on a regular basis ^^^.

Fun facts, anyone?

Random fun facts for everybody at any time of day! *Throws them at people like confetti*

A desire for knowledge and learning coupled with a desire and need to share facts and feelings means...people get the facts I learn! Usually people won’t particularly care about them, but they’re nice enough to listen. 

It’s not all talking. 

I sing. I laugh to myself and with others. I hang out in others’ company sometimes in mostly-silence (which I will admit feels weird). 

It can be simply sitting there and fidgeting, or maybe reading. I just need to do something...even if it’s not talking. Something needs to fill the space of silence or inactivity. 

Silence feels like it needs to be filled. 

Silence is hard. People talk about quiet moments with friends, only enjoying each others’ company, and I’m just like...wha?

It sounds so nice...but I don’t know how to do it.

Even with my immediate family, whom I live with, silence feels awkward. And sometimes, all I can think during pauses is “awkward, weird, strange.”

It feels to me like I need to fill it with something, or if I’m uncomfortable, someone else do it for me!

Passion projects. 

When you talk a lot or have a lot to say, people don’t always want to listen. Sometimes, you don’t want to talk to people. That’s okay. It gets to be a lot, and that’s totally justified. So you need to get feelings and thoughts out somehow. 

That’s where things like journals, writing stories, singing, art, and music come into play. You direct emotions into them.

Emotions are often easier to reveal to people. 

I’m actually a little bit of an over-sharer, and it would probably benefit me to keep a couple things in particular to myself. 

Feelings are easier to give to people. Open communication. It feels easier for me than I’m sure it does for a lot of people out there. 

Personality changes things a lot. 

I feel like...extroversion...has become a personality in and of itself to some people? Characters who are loud and talkative...and that’s it. Chances are, they’re the comedic relief.

You can have talkative people who are secretive, cheerful, grumpy, constantly confused, all over the place with their ideas and disorganized, scrupulously organized, nosy, and so on. 

Being talkative and outgoing is only one part of a personality. 

Introversion isn’t bad. Being quiet isn’t bad. Needing time alone isn’t bad. 

I know people who are quiet, more withdrawn, and I know people who are extremely outgoing...

Both sides have positives. Both have negatives. 

Quiet people are often easier to talk to. My sister is really quiet, and she’ll listen to me ramble about my latest story idea for an hour before she asks if she can leave. Not joking here. It’s happened multiple times. 

I love quiet people. They listen. They’re not all up in your face. They have good ideas, just need a little encouragement to show them. At least in my experience. 

So there’s nothing wrong with having an introverted character, or an extroverted character, or a combination. It’s not a character flaw, like I said. It’s part of who people are. 

Consider the pictures of us in medical textbooks. We stand alone and naked against dark backdrops, our “deformities” highlighted and notated in the captions, black rectangles positioned in the images to cover our eyes. The creators of these textbooks blithely use us to illustrate their texts, while erasing our faces, turning our bodies into inanimate exhibits. While these kinds of medical images are, or have been, common to a number of often overlapping groups of people—disabled people, fat people, intersex people, people of color, people with facial distinctions—they hold, because of the medical model that frames disability, a particular power for disabled people. Our bodies are seen so often simply and entirely as medical conditions. These textbooks objectify us, not sexualizing the body, but medicalizing it. (Exile and Pride: disability, queerness, and liberation by Eli Clare)

I think about all the times I have been rejected as a romantic partner by the people I’ve had crushes on. All of my years yearning for lust and love and romance, knowing that I’d be a good partner if someone saw past my body. Wondering when my first kiss would be, when my first time having sex will be. Another passage in this book strikes me:

Now 20 years later, now that I’m a dyke, I’m hungry for sexual attention. I want dykes to wolf whistle at me, to stare at my body, not as though I were a freak in a freak show, but stare, eyes full of desire, eyes undressing me. I want them to still mean it after they see my wheelchair.

I’ve never voiced my hidden desire to be sexualized, and yet here it is, written and relayed by other disabled people. It feels wrong to want something that causes so much grief and anguish for many people on a daily basis. But it shows an angle of desire: can’t my disabled body be wanted, too?

All my life I have known a medical model of disability. I spent my childhood in a drug trial and had my body picked apart and had every test possible done to see the effects of the drug. I had my hairs counted, my skin photographed, my stride and exertion measured, my bones and brain scanned, my blood taken. I have known the claustrophobia of hospital bracelets on my wrist, tugging at the plastic by the end of the day longing to take them off, I have learned that the less I fidget, the faster the tests will go. I have learned to get angry at others for staring at me, talking about me, talking for me, infantilizing me. I have learned to speak up for myself. I am one of the faces of an organization that screams Cure! Cure! Cure! and while I am perpetually gratefully for the work they’ve done, holy shit, can I be anything else?

One day not long ago I looked up an aspect of my disability and found nothing but medical journals, nothing but research, nothing but colored drawings of an over-exaggerated version of my body pointing out aspects of my face, my chest, my stomach, my knees. I never knew what the tanner stages were before this accidentally deep-dive. I was playing dungeons and dragons with my friends, and when I went home, I showered in the dark and got in bed in the dark and cried.

Not long after that I looked at my body in a mirror. It is not a body I recognize or that is represented in any media or in real life outside of a medical standpoint. I took a shower and sat down in the tub and watched the weird way my stomach folds over my legs and I cried. All these years I have advocated for self-love and all these years it has been impossible for me to find because as much as I can try, my body will never be seen outside of a medical model. My body has never felt the touch of someone who loves it for what it is, who can accept it alongside who I am, and all that I have to offer in a relationship. I love the friends who uplift me, the ones who let me yell about disability when I need it, the one who knows that I am a sexual being and lets me be open about it.

I am stronger now. When I fall into depressive states it is easier for me to get out. I can talk about disability without feeling consumed by it. I am surrounded by those who see who I am. I have met one of my idols and watched the video over and over from the third person and seen that maybe my body is okay, because my idol shook my hand and looked at me no differently than anyone else and saw past my physical. I have gained muscle and found clothes that make me feel good.

But still—this medicalization haunts me. I want representation. I want romantic and sexual love. I want objectification outside of disability. I don’t know where to find it. I don’t know how to end this. Only that these few paragraphs of reading made me feel heard, and maybe that things will be okay.

Sorry for any poor soul that ACTUALLY reads this 😭😭

Spoiler if you haven’t watched the show? (It’s on YouTube) but I really doubt anyone wants to watch the show.

Okay so I’m just ranting abt sheriff and his unaddressed trauma because it s the thing that keeps me up at night. And Ik the others also have their own trauma which is slightly looked into every so often but it’s only ever one episode and is never ever mentioned again. Sheriff’s trauma is more mentioned so I have more to work with here. Though I might talk about the others if the chance strikes.

Okay so first off; my guy canonically went to WAR ffs (and I swear it’s fact most people forget) And it got mentioned ONCE Like-??? He probably saw people get killed on a daily basis. Sure he was only in charge of the pigs but that doesn’t change the fact he most likely witnessed people dying. Also it’s war. It’s gonna be fucking traumatising. The constant fear for his (and most likely his brothers) life would’ve probably been HORRIBLE And like I stated earlier, he only mentioned going to war ONCE throughout the two seasons.

Next, from what I gathered he’s never been a well liked person. The first episode literally shows a whole town looking at him with murderous intent. The guy probably didn’t have friends growing up and is so used to being alone and hated my guy probably just EXPECTS people to hate him. That thought alone is depressing tbh

In episode 21/22 when it’s first revealed that he’s part mutant then there’s this whole discussion between him and the purple meatball before he’s thrown into a cell with his ‘friends’ and they literally call him a ‘freak’ and ‘a person who let us down’ LIKE-??? HUH?? Do you know how crushing it is to have people you trust and consider family basically turn on you the moment they consider you a monster??? Sheriff probably was crushed. He cares for these people and they’ve just called him a freak and turned on him in an instant. And when they finally come around (gotta love vegan-su for that) THEY DONT APOLOGISE??? THEY ARE LIKE “okay cool we know we just called you a freak and basically betrayed you but we can be friends again.” NO APOLOGY OR ANYTHING??? AND SHERIFF JUST GOES WITH IT??? I understand this IS a kids show but they could’ve at least said sorry even if it sounded so insincere. But anyways- how desperate do you have to be for caring people in your life that you just accept back people who literally hated you less than a minute ago. I feel like he needs a day to be angry/upset and process wtf just happened and for his ‘friends’ to actually fucking apologise to him.

Ryan was not dead. He was the fucking supreme master. Imagine this: you’ve been led to believe your brother is dead and despite the guilt you manage to slightly recover only to find out he had been the one you have been trying to stop the entire time. Idk about you but that would feel absolutely terrible to me, to find out your brother is a villain and to have to fight him? At this point Sheriff is just being spoon fed trauma.

Uhm well pretty sure that’s it lol but I’m not too sure. Take everything written here with a grain of salt, it’s just me and my thoughts about Sheriff & his trauma (because who doesn’t over analyse a tv show character’s trauma?)