#my brain makes no sense sometimes... i feel like i really manage to convince myself im this way and i do these things WHEN I DON'T... wtf

[steves-strapcollection]

47. “When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 💕💕

YES! I'm still working on asks from THIS ask game, and I absolutely will be happy to receive more (since I'm using these prompts as exercises to write short shit without context to overcome my pathological need to write So Much Context)

[ NOW ON AO3 ]

There was something distinctly heartbreaking about playing wingman for the guy who made you believe in the entire concept of soulmates, Eddie thinks as he leans against the trunk of Steve Harrington's Beemer. It's not even that he thinks they're soulmates, but what the dude has with Robin is really convincing. And maybe Eddie is pretty sure Steve is his soulmate, even platonically, even if that thought makes his pining ass want to vomit.

He refuses to pine after a straight man for eternity, and yet...

What's stupid is that Eddie is a shit wingman, so it doesn't even make sense that Steve keeps taking him out with him to bars and shit. Half the women that wanted to even approach Steve were afraid of Eddie, and the other half were fucking mean to him which lost Steve's favour immediately which... hey, Eddie couldn't complain too much about that.

But still, that meant that Steve was striking out every single time and Eddie was feeling bad about it because he was happy about it. He got to spend a whole evening with Steve and sometimes they would spend the night together because Eddie's place was closer and Steve was too tired to drive all the way home. Eddie could pretend this was a real date, that Steve Harrington was dating him.

Jesus H. Christ, he was pathetic.

Steve sighs next to him. "Why is this so hard?" he asks, and at Eddie's questioning look, Steve elaborates, "Dating, getting laid, whatever you wanna call it?"

Eddie huffs a laugh, and shrugs. "Well, I mean, I think I've got it worse in that department, Stevie," he mutters, taking a drag of his cigarette. Steve's known about him being gay for months now, which makes it even more wild that the man still shared a bed with him and took him out to bars almost every Friday night. Tossing his cigarette onto the asphalt and stubbing it out with his boot, Eddie asks, "What are you even looking for?"

Steve pauses, staring at the ground. "Someone who makes me happy, who gets me, who wants to be with me, the real me, y'know?" he asks without even looking at Eddie, which is good because Eddie's sure the way his heart was breaking would be visible from fucking outer space.

Me, that's me, Stevie. Choose me. That's what Eddie wants to say, to shout and scream and even stomp his feet a bit because it's not fucking fair. He's all those things and more and he wanted to be that for Steve.

"Think you might be putting too high of standards too early on these poor girls, Stevie," Eddie laughs instead, grinning crookedly over at Steve and stopping short at the intense gaze being leveled back at him.

"See, that's the thing, Eds. I'm starting to think I've been looking for that in all the wrong places," Steve says seriously, shifting so he's standing in front of Eddie.

And Eddie is sure he's dreaming. He's actually fast asleep and he's going to wake up literally any second and this was all just some terrible dream thought up by his awful, gay, pining, stupid brain. Because it actually sounds like Steve, the love of Eddie's life, is about to confess something huge to him.

"What makes you say that?" Eddie croaks out before clearing his throat, glancing at Steve's lips before meeting his eyes.

"I've always had these big dreams about my life, what it'd look like if I wanted to be happy, and before I always thought of these grand things that involve a wife and a whole pack of kids," Steve says and Eddie feels his already shattered heart break even more.

Eddie manages to laugh, though, even if what he really wants is to crawl into bed and cry. "Okay, so now you're raising the bar even higher on these poor girls?" Eddie asks, shoving Steve's shoulder with his fist.

Steve isn't swayed. "You don't get it, Eds, that's not what I want anymore," he says, running his hands back through his hair. "That isn't what I imagine when I think about being happy."

"Then what do you imagine?" Eddie asks because, apparently, he's a huge fucking masochist.

"Eds... you're really going to make me say it out loud?" Steve asks, almost teasingly, and then he steps just a little bit closer.

Eddie's heart stops, once again struck by how not real this has to be. "Yeah, I'm gonna need you to say it with your outside voice, Stevie," Eddie says. "I'm not a mind reader."

Steve sighs heavily and puts his hands on his hips as he visibly considers his next words carefully. Something comes over his expression that takes Eddie's breath away, something fierce and brave and beautiful, and now the full force of it was turning on him when Steve's eyes meet his.

"When I picture myself happy," Steve starts, stepping close enough that the heat radiating off of him begins to warm Eddie's chilled skin. Steve lifts a hand to cup Eddie's jaw as he says, "It's with you, Eds."

Eddie blinks owlishly at Steve. "What?"

"I think I'm--I've been into you for months, and when you came out to me I got so hopeful, like I actually maybe stood a chance, which is obviously stupid. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you're into me but still," Steve rambles a bit as Eddie tries to form a coherent thought. Steve chews on his bottom lip and asks, "Eds? What do you--is this, like, okay?"

Eddie slaps himself in the face, just hard enough to sting, and Steve jumps.

"Eddie, what the hell?" Steve asks, bewildered.

"Sorry, just checking that I'm not dreaming. Pinching wouldn't've been enough to wake me up from a dream this good," Eddie breathes, twisting his hand in the front of Steve's polo and pulling him close. "You mean that, Stevie? You want me?"

"More than I've wanted anything in my life," Steve confesses easily, and he stumbles when Eddie gently shoves him back.

"Then take me home and we can make out about it in private, yeah?" Eddie suggests, grinning as he scrambles to get into the passenger seat of the Beemer.

When Steve gets into the car, he's grinning, and Eddie leans across the center console. "One kiss for the road?" he asks, batting his lashes up at Steve.

"Absolutely," Steve agrees, and then their mouths slotted together perfectly, like they were made to be kissing each other all along.

And yeah, Eddie was really starting to believe in soulmates actually...

Thank you again for sending me this ask!!! Send me more of these fun prompts? Also, if you like my writing, please consider checking out writing blog -> @gerrystamour

#steddie #steve/eddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #gerry writes #gerry drabbles

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

Tw: Self-doubt, just a whole mess of what is real vs. what is fake/mistaken. Identity crisis?

Looking for: Advice, maybe just lending some knowledge if you have it.

I am an alter in an autistic system. Recently, we consumed a piece of media (I like how that feels, consumed media, it's funny, nice texture phrase) and I latched onto one of the characters. Hard.

At first I didn't think much of them besides relatability, which is common for me. If I get fixated on that character a little, sometimes I'll get a little...idk...shifty into them? Like not mimicry but a more intense version where there's just a touch of them in me, and usually this either fizzles out or another alter splits the day or two after and it turns out I was just doing a weird split.

But this time it grew over time, which isn't something that happens usually. And now I am hardcore on them, to the point where I'm having trouble with my normal memories and I'm getting memories of them instead, related only in sense of metaphors or tangents. I'm feeling phantom limbs and my inner voice and appearance is altering, as well as my outer world facial expressions (a clear tell-tale of who's fronting for many of us).

My first thought was, okay, this is normal when I fixate on a character, but even when I waited for a little bit, it still hasn't gone away. Some part of me misses the people from the show. I started panicking and I freak out every time I think or innerspeak in the character's voice. It's not uncommon for me to have trouble hearing the right voices from other people (pretty sure we know why), but my voice has always remained consistent. My outer voice is more or less the same, except I have to push down a couple of specific mannerisms from the character that would be concerning to people around me.

The character is also half-blind. The body is not. In the outer world the eye is really weird, like my brain feels like it's not supposed to be used but is (other disabled alters have the same feeling), and the only way I've managed to reduce that is by closing the eye. But that's not really gonna happen, so...idk how to deal with this other than just kinda. Hope it stops. Which sucks because I front a LOT.

I managed to half-convince myself that it was a new fictive influencing REALLY FREAKING HARD but even when I tried to get them to speak, I did my usual 'fake or real?' test (my imagination gets mixed up with alters sometimes so I developed a strategy to tell the difference) and it was fake. I asked another alter in the fronting room if there was anyone else there and they said no, checked with our Gatekeeper and they said no, but I was a bit weird.

I have severe issues with the lines between real and fake blurry sometimes, but I'm currently not in an episode of that, so it makes literally zero sense for that to be the case, plus in that case my memories aren't altered, just my perception of reality. This is vice versa.

We have partial and mixed fictives in our system (partial brain, partial fictive), so at this point all I have is either I am having an extremely odd real-fake-blur episode (which doesn't make sense as my confusion is the only thing causing distress, not the blurring itself, as well), or like. Somehow completely brain-made me is partially fictived?

I went on Google and saw things about fragments/not formed pieces/alters without identities finding characters that matched them near perfectly and attaching to them/forming into them, but I've been formed for a year now. Some parts of identity might not be fully filled in, MAYBE, but most parts are, and as much as I related to and connected with the character, I didn't see anything about it happening with formed alters.

I know that this isn't silly but it frankly feels ridiculous that I'm jumping to so many different possibilities, and what my brain is doing feels faked, but it's just...I know my brain (sort of). I know myself (sort of again). I know what it does when it screws around at least. It's not screwing around with me, I know it. The Gatekeeper already commented on it, I mean...

If you have literally any advice, thank you. Please note when responding that while I do have a therapist, she hasn't talked to us about the system and our Protector decided that we weren't going to say anything else for a while, so she's no help to me in this place right now.

It may seem kind of funny, all things considered, but I feel alone, and even if all you can give me are cat pictures, it'll make me feel less alone. Thanks.

Hi anon,

Please know you're not alone and that what you're experiencing is real and valid, and there is no right or wrong way to be a system, and every system is unique in their own way. It's up to you how to define or describe your experiences, but I can help flesh some of it out for you.

If I'm understanding what you're saying, you're wondering if it is possible for an alter to become a fictive over time. This can happen. In some cases, an alter may present as an original personality but over time may begin to identify more strongly with a fictional character. This happens for a variety of reasons, including exposure to media featuring that character, a desire to escape from reality, or a need to feel more in control. A resource that talks about this more is "Amongst Ourselves: A Self-Help Guide to Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder" by Tracy Alderman. The text discusses the concept of fictives and how they can develop over time.

Also please remember that it's an extremely common experience for systems to feel that they're faking their symptoms in some way, and it doesn't necessarily mean that they are faking it. As you may already know, the covert nature of OSDD/DID (assuming you're traumagenic) can mean that systems go through phases of denial, even after validation from a therapist or a clinical diagnosis. Please remember to be gentile and patient with yourself during this time as you're trying to make sense of your experiences and your identity.

Ultimately, if your protector eventually feels comfortable discussing this with your therapist, that could be super helpful in navigating what you're experiencing right now, as well as figuring out how to move forward. That being said, it is completely up to y'all what to do here, and y'all know yourselves best.

If anyone else has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks

[potatopossums]

god i have not been doing okay lately.

taking care of yourself is hard.

keeping up with my overwhelming emotions and trying to calm myself down is absolutely terrible sometimes. especially when it activates a deep-seated trauma or fear of mine.

i am always so afraid that people will leave me. that they won't want to be around me. and that I'll just be alone suddenly. i am in need of a lot of reassurance right now, and also, i still wish my internal resolve and calm were stronger.

my mind always finds ways to convince me that people are just putting up with me, that they don't really like me, that they'd drop me if they knew how, that they're only here by guilty obligation. my brain takes what-if scenarios and believes them as fact. it hurts so much and i don't know why they've come up so strongly as of late. to be fair, a lot of crap has happened with my job and my awful manager, so money has been a scary thing as of late. so when I'm anxious about that, it makes sense that everything else feels shaky too.

but still. i feel terrible telling people about my fears. i don't want to accuse them of doing anything wrong. i just know that's been going through my mind and I've been so scared and wanting comfort and really struggling on my own with it. everything feels like an emergency. everything feels heavy and tiring. i can't seem to relax.

all i want to do is spend free time with my queerplatonic partner and not feel worried she will suddenly abandon me. i want to just spend time together in a way that removes external obstacles and allows us to just relax and be together and exist near each other, take space if we need to, and overall just feel comfortable with ourselves in each other's presence without worrying about things.

and gosh i wish my self esteem could be any kinder.

i desperately want to see people and have quality hugging time with them because i need that, and also, when someone says "i want to see you!" i can't seem to fathom why they'd want to see me.

it is so painful. i don't want to be hurting myself like this. i want to feel happy and self-loving.

#queer #personal #mental health #queerplatonic

[quelsentiment]

for the fanfic asks: 2-6!

Thank you Fee!!

2- Did you have any writing goals?

I didn't have specific goals in terms of word count or anything, because I don't like to put pressure on myself like that. What I wanted was to take part in a few fests again, mainly @wordplayfics and @1dtrickortreatfest because they're both so fun, and I did! I think I also wanted to explore some more pairings I hadn't written for yet, and I ended up doing quite a lot of that (ot5, zarry, nouis, narry aaaand I just started posting for the mcyt fandom, which definitely wasn’t on my bingo card for this year but sometimes you just gotta embrace whatever obsession your brain throws at you 😌).

I do wish I'd had more energy to write over these past few months, but it’s honestly been a very hectic and emotionally intense year for me, so overall I'm pretty happy with what I did manage to write during that time.

3- How many projects did you work on this year?

With the two fics that I'm planning on posting in December, that makes a total of 13 works. Some of them are drabbles related to other works I'd already posted, though, so it's more like 9 works that are "completely new"

4- Favorite paragraph you wrote this year?

Maybe this one from Of Space and Time, but honestly idk. I’d have to go back and re-read everything, and I’m not doing that lol

Niall slid sideways to make space for Liam on the seat. Not wasting a second, Liam started playing, his eyes flying over Niall’s handwriting and singing in a soft voice. Niall had no idea how, since he wasn’t a professional player, but he soon found himself accompanying Liam with his own chords and harmonies. It was as effortless as if they’d been doing it for years. Their sudden proximity should have felt weird, at the very least, but it didn’t. Their arms were moving to the same rhythm, their hands brushing against each other, and all Niall could feel was a complete sense of calm and belonging. The overwhelming sensation of emptiness that had been plaguing his waking moments for days was gone.

The last note of the song was still echoing in the diner when he whispered:

“Would it make me sound crazy if I told you I’ve been seeing you in my dreams?”

5- Favorite line of dialogue you wrote this year?

Spoiler from my upcoming @louisrarepairfest fic!

“You think I haven’t seen the way you were looking at me earlier, while you were dancing with that guy? You think I can’t hear your heart beat faster whenever I get a little too close?” She punctuates her words by taking the last step that separates her and Niall, and now she’s got the slayer right in front of her again. Right where she wants her. “Hell, you think I don’t notice the blood rushing to your cheeks right now?” she adds in a mere whisper.

6- Favorite sentence you wrote this year?

Ugh these are so hard... Not because I think there’s a lot of brilliant sentences to pick from, there’s just nothing that really comes to my mind since I’m so focused on dialogues most of the time.

Okay, maybe this one from my mcyt wip 😅

The ocean is everyone’s and no one’s all at once, Clay knows, but for a minute, he can almost convince himself that George and him are the only people to have ever seen in.

#thank you!! hope you had a nice weekend :) #asks #feeisamarshmallow

[tolerateit]

First of all, thank you so much for responding, and doing so SO quickly you're such a gem <3 The first example does actually help and it's something I tend to avoid doing, and solely relying on the second one, procrastinate until I have to do it "or else" lmao That's the thing though, I want to do these things, it's just the fear that's stopping me from doing them that I don't even want to break them down into smaller and more manageable tasks, but I'm gonna take your expertise on it and run with it, starting today in fact. Oh and agreeing to do something immediately and then thinking about doing it also works but only sometimes, there are times when I end up feeling overwhelmed by the thing I previously agreed to do and I end up being like "hey can we reschedule" and hope they forget about it And I know that I don't have to be the best at everything I do but it's that damn childhood trauma that makes me feel like I either be 100% the best at it or just not even try if I know I'm gonna fail. The logical brain side is like, of course, I'm gonna make mistakes, it's by far one of the best ways to truly learn but then monkey brain pops up and it's like "If you even make the mistake of a misplaced comma you're the worst person in existence and deserve to fail at life" and then I don't even want to do the thing. Like hey, I absolutely love learning but if I have to show others any sort of progress I'm gonna stick to the phrase "I love learning" and not do any of that learning. I might as well mention it while I'm here, the childhood trauma I keep talking about first started when I was enrolled in English classes (ESL speaker here) when I was about 4-4.5 but I've always been a bit antisocial so I didn't want to go to a place where I didn't know anyone. Anyway, we had tests as classes tend to do and I got a terrible grade that upset my dad and threw him into a bit of a violent rage. He apologized after but what's a soft apology after a violent rage to a 4 year old gonna do? Not much, that's what lol And that's what's made me afraid of failure in general, and especially any sort of academic failure to the point where I was a straight-A student, and at one point in 5th or 6th grade, I got a B in math and spent a couple of hours circling my apartment building trying to convince myself to go home and face the consequences, fully expecting another rageful violent fit but that didn't happen. It's hilarious in retrospect because the reason I got that B was that I completely overlooked one of the questions, like straight up didn't see it lmao On the other hand, I completely finished my English degree simply out of fear of failing out of school and not amounting to anything in life so that's something that's a bit positive out of the whole thing. I was more afraid of failing school instead of having a failed class here or there, and although I failed a couple and retook the exams later, the first fear overwhelmed the second one so I never even thought about dropping out.

But yeah, I hate to say it but that same fear ended up being replicated in pretty much every other area of my life and I sometimes really hate myself for not figuring out better ways to get over/through it.

it must have been difficult for you to open up about it but thank you for sharing this with me! I completely understand the urge to reschedule like it is SO strong especially when you're closer to the deadline. sometimes it's okay to just sit with your monkey brain and let it know that you are listening to it, don't force yourself to check all boxes at once if that makes sense? take your time is what im trying to say, i hope you manage to find a point where the monkey brain steps back to let logic take over so you can feel relatively at ease in the future!

#you ask for the tab* #Violence tw

[nyxopenjournal]

It's almost 4am and I'm still awake which means Thought Brain has turned on and I feel sappy which makes me emotional. Alternatively titled: Can't Sleep

Life is difficult and sometimes it's extremely hard to manage. I'm going through one of those. But I think I'm starting to get a tiny bit more hopeful about making it through. I don't think I'll necessarily be happy or get what I think, in this moment, I want but maybe I'll find a way to be content with what "is" instead of wishful thinking about what "isn't." I'm really trying to accept things as they are and not push further bc that always leads to me hurting. My depression fog that I've spent the last 5-6 months in is finally beginning to clear & I noticed that today. It's funny bc the thing that made me realize it is bc I guess I had been subconsciously paying attention to the way the grass grows and I'd never noticed it before. (The grass grows weird). And today I commented on it lol. I've been too preoccupied with my sadness to pay attention to anything like that. Grass growing. I'm still sad. I can't lie, most times I ignore it or it feels hollow & far away to a point where I can avoid thinking about it. But it is there. I can't do much about it at this point in time for several reasons but I'm chugging along. I'm trying to accept that others' happiness doesn't have to include me. And accept that that's okay. I might not be a lifelong person. I don't know anything about the future and not knowing how things will turn out is the bane of my existence bc my brain plays "what ifs" like they're game show topics for a prize. The prize is usually I end up depressed bc of my own train of thought. Trying to learn how to balance distance with care. What's the right amount of energy to give to a topic? How to be less "all or nothing" about everything. There has to be a balance or I'm gonna just make myself suffer for the rest of my existence and quite frankly, I've suffered enough. I'm tired of it. There are things I wish for that I've convinced myself are impossible. It's too late. Missed opportunities and such. That's been playing on repeat in my head. There are a lot of things that I'm told or I see that don't make sense to me and how I perceive the world, but I've also become the person who is so scared to ask questions. I didn't used to be like this. I'd question everyone and everything until it made sense to me. Now nothing makes sense and I'm always confused and I'm scared to ask. What sense does it make? It doesn't. But. It's where I am right now. I didn't used to be afraid about how big my thoughts were or how much I had to say or how many tangents I went on about a topic, but now I'm scared to say more than a couple words in fear of being annoying or convincing myself whoever I'm talking to doesn't care. So now it's just simple, dulled down thoughts. Which is unfair to myself honestly bc it's not like I've suddenly begun to have less complex thoughts and questions and feelings. I've just suddenly become overly terrified of sharing them so they roll around in my head until I have a breakdown. Outlets are nice. It would be nice to have a person to talk to but it's my own fault that I'm here right now. No one else's. I have to accept that. Maybe the part of my brain telling me I'm just not good for people and will inevitably fail at any platonic or romantic relationship is right and I should give up trying to pursue either. But I also still crave it so what do I do with that? It's not like I get it either way. I'm too scared to talk to people. It's been this way my whole life. I wish I didn't crave it. I didn't used to. But the older I get the more I do. Idk what to do with that. It's just where I am right now. I doubt it'll change. It's not like anyone is looking my way. I'm just floating around on a rock till I die. Epic.

[insipid-drivel]

If you’re having relapsing panic symptoms after having a virus...

It’s probably okay! Don’t blame yourself! Don’t isolate yourself and try to hide it if you’re struggling “like you used to”! Talk to your doctor about it! There are explanations beyond “it’s just in your head” or “you had a shock from being sick”, and convincing yourself otherwise isn’t gonna help you feel better.

This past week I’ve been wretched with panic attacks and general “AAAAAAAAAAA” from my brain, and it was after I was very sick with the stomach flu (the news reports about the new strains of Norovirus are not jokes; please look after yourselves, everyone, especially if you need daily medications, and get to a hospital if you need daily oral medications and can’t hold them down). I got so violently ill that I wound up falling into a state of cold-turkey withdrawal.

I bounced back, fortunately, and am physically okay again, but for the past week, I’ve been really hard on myself for having relapses into panic levels and cycles that I haven’t struggled with in years! I’ve never been so vulnerable to things like my old triggers! I even have panic attacks in my sleep again for the first time in ages!

Finally getting in to talk to my psychiatrist, I got my answer:

Viruses can seriously mess up how you metabolize certain oral medications, including psych meds, and sometimes our bodies need help much longer than you’d expect to balance out. Most of the information we get about recovery times from common viruses don’t apply to people on medications, the neurodivergent, and the disabled, and holding ourselves to the same “healing standards” as others can actually make things worse.

My psychiatrist literally compared it to accidentally ingesting grapefruit while on a psych med (plenty of you know how bad an idea that is, but for those who don’t, it basically means your body won’t recognize your medication in your body), and gently explained that it wasn’t my fault for being anxious and panicked again, or for needing to go back on my panic meds. It wasn’t my fault for “backsliding” into being fragile and sensitive as I was before I ever set foot in a therapeutic setting. I was also told, “If you don’t feel totally ready to go off your anxiety medications, then it’s not time yet. This shows me that the meds are still helping.”

I also have a very, very slow metabolism (meaning it takes a lot less of a drug for me to feel sick from it than the average person), and so it made perfect sense I wasn’t bouncing back to my psychiatrist. My metabolism is just shut down, and all I need to do is rest and focus on keeping up with eating, my medications, and taking it easy!

I complained that not even weed was hitting me right and calming me down the way it should (I’ve been encouraged to use marijuana for multiple different reasons and live in a state and setting where it isn’t condemned and have had a wonderful experience with it). I prefer to use edibles or beverages as my mode of delivery for when I’m having trouble with anxiety, chronic pain, or stomach issues, but it wasn’t helping much this time! I’ve been feeling terrible about going through way more than I did before!

Until I just took a hit from my vape instead, bypassing my digestive system altogether. As soon as I did, I felt right again. I calmed down. I could get out of bed, and everything was okay. Like my psychiatrist said, my metabolism just wasn’t taking in my nutrition levels - even cannabis - correctly, and I just have to take it easy and let myself recover. It does not mean it’s permanent.

So, if you’re noticing that the meds you use regularly aren’t helping you like they ought to and your moods are hard to manage, especially after you’ve been sick, see your doctor and tell them. Not only will they be able to unburden you of your dreads and worries that can make your symptoms even more unpleasant, but they probably know how a certain sickness can throw you off and how to help reset and feel better faster.

#long post

[skellebonez]

Could you write 22 “Oh, you’re just grumpy” with Monkie King and a deage MK?

OOOOH coming back to this? Yeah, I am totally up for giving this another go! MK is having a not so great time, nothing warning worthy but I do HC him not being the healthiest kid. Mild spoilers for season 2 episodes 1 and 2.

Oh, you're just grumpy.

"Noooooooo!" MK shouted, stomping his foot on the ground in anger. "I'm not grumpy, I'm mad! You can't let them leave me behind! Take me back! I'm the Monkie Kid! I have to do this myself! I-"

"You are currently physically 4 years old with all the control over your powers of that age," Sun Wukong rebutted with a soft sigh, frowning and wincing at the high pitched angered scream in reaction he received at that. That was... not the best way to go about this... He needed a different tactic.

He knelt down to be at eye level with his now even younger protégé, holding out his hand. When MK stared at it he chanced putting it on his shoulder and continued when MK didn’t shrug it off or start yelling again. “Bud, MK, it’s ok. I know you’re frustrated. You have every right to be! But we just want to make sure you’re safe until we can get you back to normal.”

This was not the kind of trouble the Monkey King expected to happen immediately before... well, put a cork on that for now. But this wasn't the kind of trouble be expected to happen regardless of time frame. How in the world anyone managed to not only curse an object in this way but find a way to slip it on his student was anyone's guess. But the fact of the matter was that MK, the Monkie Kid himself, was now physically 4 years old. Mentally, he was still the same age he was before the curse, personality and memories still completely intact... for the most part, it became clear to them very quickly that being physically a kid again came with more than just a smaller body. It came with the mood swings and heightened emotions of “kid brain” as Mei called it, when MK immediately burst into tears at just the mention of being left behind so Mei and the others could go after the demon. And then he couldn’t figure out why he was crying, whether from frustration or worry or both or why he even started, which lead to more crying out of sheer confusion, which made everyone feel very bad.

They’d managed to calm him down long enough for the Monkey King get him on his cloud and bring him to Flower Fruit Mountain in case the demon attempted to go after him like this, but that was short lived once they actually made landfall.

"But I can do this!" MK continued, pouting and tears of frustration starting to peak at the corners of his eyes once again, albeit calmer frustration. "I-I beat the Spider Queen! I can handle one demon who had to slap a bracelet on me to make me a kid to beat me, even if I'm tiny! I can kick his butt!"

"I know you can, Bud," Wukong said evenly, offering him an understanding smile. "And normally I'd let you go in guns blazing and know you could handle everything no problem now! You've more than proven you can handle stuff even I couldn't. If you were just shrunk I wouldn’t dare think you couldn’t handle this." He reached out a hand, ruffling his hair far more gently that he normally would. But still rough, rough enough to let him know he wasn't going to just treat him like glass now. "But this is a bit different. Remember what I said when Macaque was having you use your full power?” MK scowled for a second before nodding. “Using your powers like this? Could hurt you. And I don’t want to see you get hurt like that. Heck, even I would have trouble controlling my powers and probably get hurt if I was turned into a little kid monkey man, and if this happened to me I would trust you if you told me to stay safe."

"... you would?" MK asked softly, and Wukong nodded. Maybe it was a... bit of a stretch of the truth. Sun Wukong would probably need some convincing too (Great Sage title leading to Great Misjudgement sometimes, the previously mentioned Spider Queen fight a key example), but that's just one more thing he and MK had in common.

"Course I would,” Wukong said, and given said convincing that was the truth. “I trust you, MK, and-AGH!" He may be the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, but nothing prepared him for the barreling rocket that was a 4 year old launching themselves at him to hug him with all the strength of... well, himself!

"I trust you too!" MK yelled right in his ear and oh if he thought his student had a loud yell before. But that only lasted for a second before he pulled back from the hug, body limp and head rested on his shoulder as the energy seemed to sap a bit from him as Wukong stood back up and he held him on his hip instead of setting him down when he saw the bright red rings around his eyes and how tired he seemed already... Tang had mentioned that he knew MK wasn’t exactly the healthiest as a child... "But... I feel bad not doing anything..."

"Then we can do something, that's an easy fix!" Wukong laughed, and his chest warmed as he was reminded of the few children he had helped take care of or play with while on the long journey centuries ago. He was a softie, really. "No training though, I am not going to body slam you when you come up to my knees."

This apparently was the magic joke to make, making MK devolve into a fit of giggles. A testament to how this cursed object affected him, he never would have giggled at that without it. Probably... MK had an odd sense of humor sometimes. But then again, so did he!

"Actually... I think I have just the thing for us to try."

~

All things considered, Wukong probably should have expected something like this. He did tell MK that he probably didn’t have much control over his powers. And that using his powers was a bad idea. And Tang did warn him he wasn’t a healthy child. The three together were a bad combo when his powers activated with MK’s unconscious reactions to certain things...

“How you feeling, Bud?” Wukong whispered softly, rubbing his back as he laid face down on his couch. He’d barely used his powers at all, just activated his true sight to find ingredients when they were cooking without even thinking about it, but that was enough to make the kid’s head feel like it was splitting open (in symptoms that sounded like a migraine, which... yeah, he felt really bad for him, and the jolt of worry and fear that shot through him surprised him less than he felt it should). “Still bad?”

There were a few of Wukong’s monkeys hanging out on the couch, one in particular was curled up next to MK’s head. Perhaps they were keeping him company while he wasn’t feeling well and nodded off in the process.

“I think I’m ok now,” MK answered, sitting back up and leaning into the Monkey King’s side (he seemed to seek out contact a lot more like this, letting Wukong carry him to the house, leaning on his shoulder when he showed him how to prepare the snacks they were making, now this... it made him wonder just how much physical affection he got as a kid). He looked leagues better than he had just 40 minutes ago, thankfully not nearly as exhausted as he had looked before he laid down. “Headache went away... I dunno, a while ago. But I didn’t wanna get up.”

“Completely understandable,” Wukong nodded in approval, glad that he’d gotten some form of rest. He needed it after everything he had been through. “You feel like getting up now, though? I made us some lunch... dinner... not desert food! Just like I promised.”

“Yeah!” MK exclaimed, immediately jumping off the couch and making his way to the kitchen like a rocket. “How about our snacks, how much longer do they have? Do you think we did ok? Do you think the others are gonna like em!?”

“They still have well over an hour of sitting in the fridge,” Wukong laughed, following him and watching him scramble to sit on one of the chairs at the table. “But I think we did a pretty good job of making annin tofu for the first time. They already look pretty darn delicious.” The almond jelly dish wasn’t as hard as he believed it would be, and using agar even he would be able to enjoy it... once he added some peaches on top, of course! “But that’s for later, for now what do you think of your meal?” MK looked up from his bowl, a spoonful of rice and vegetables already in his mouth. Wukong couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’ll take that as a job well done.”

The two ate their respective lunches, rice and steamed vegetables for MK and rice and fruits for Wukong, talking about what dishes they could try making together in the future. Being a monkey Wukong had a very limited pallet for what he could (and would, given other circumstances) actually eat, so brainstorming workaround for that was a great way to pass the time before moving back to the couch. They played some, shockingly not Sun Wukong related, games that he had stashed away (and he was very offended by MK’s disbelief that he had media not related to himself in his house, totally offended). The game was one of those ones with a motion controller that you had to move around to play, and MK was having a blast with it.

The monkeys also seemed to be enjoying the show quite a lot.

Before the two knew it the sun had begun to set, MK’s grip on his controller starting to weaken as he sat down on the couch and attempted to keep his eyes open. Even with his rest earlier he was exhausted.

“Did anyone... tell you anything yet?” He asked softly, once again leaning into Wukong’s side with a yawn.

“Not yet,” Wukong admitted, looking at MK’s phone for the fourth time in he hour. “Not since they told me they found out where the demon went. But that probably means they’re focused on catching him! They’re gonna get the guy, I have a good feeling about it.”

“If you say so...” MK mumbled out, the controller slipping from his grasp as he closed his eyes.

“UH.. Bud? MK?” Wukong gently nudged his student, smiling softly when he realized that he’d just fallen asleep. “OK, that game clearly did it’s job a little too well.” He made to stand up, stopping short when something tugged on his clothing. MK had an iron grip on him, holding tight to his side and not looking like he was going to be letting go any time soon.

Well... Wukong didn’t have the heart to make him let go or chance waking him up to move him... so instead he took a hair and poofed up a blanket to lay over top of MK as he made himself comfortable on the side of the couch. It didn’t take long, and it took even less time for the monkeys around the house to curl up around and on top of the duo.

It was nice... Wukong didn’t want to admit it, but he was going to miss this. Not just when MK was changed back to his normal age, but when he had to... “go on vacation”.

He felt bad, lying to his student. His kid, now that he realized he couldn’t keep from admitting that to himself. But he trusted MK, genuinely trusted him in this regard, to keep everyone in the city safe while he was gone and he didn’t want the extra stress of knowing just what Wukong was really doing to weigh him down. He knew how much MK worried, seen how much anxiety he had after Macaque and the fight with the Spider Queen, how hard it would be to keep him from following him into places that were too dangerous for him to traverse without training they hadn’t completed yet.

He... really regretted not training him more in the beginning. Regretted it more than most things he had lately. Maybe if he had he could have explained things to him better. Known that if he did sneakily follow him he would at least be in much less danger.

He couldn’t let himself be too close after this. He’d have to go back to normal, aloof, jokey, “ah you’re fine cool beans good luck bud I believe in you!” Monkey King. For MK’s sake.

As he looked down at the sleeping child curled into his side he had to make himself believe it was for MK’s sake.

Why did that feel like it was a lie?

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #deage fic #mk #qi xiaotian #monkey kid #sun wukong #dad wukong #kinda #SPACER TAG FOR HIDING SPOILERS ALL LOVE TO THE SPACER TAG #oops I made it SAD #are you even surprised? #someone is in denial about the possible consequences of their actions #WUKONG MAKE BETTER CHOICES THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO DO THIS #prompt fill

[littlemisspascal]

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 2

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,400

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: plot plot plot, mild descriptions of violence, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, sloooooooooooooow burn – seriously, we’re just getting started so it’s gonna be a bit before feelings are involved, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: The plan right now is for there to be 3 parts of Chapter 1. Tumblr isn’t doing a good job notifying my taglist, so I apologize if I bother anyone reblogging this a few times trying to get it to work. Thank you everyone out there for each like, comment, ask and reblog! The support means the world to me 🥰

Part 1 Part 3

Cross-posted on AO3

The village is a small community with less than a hundred citizens living there total, yet it is visible from miles away due to the bright paints used to decorate the houses. Murals depicting the village’s history and its residents adorn every house with details added by each new generation so that no one is ever forgotten. Back when visitors would pass through, they would always compliment the village’s beauty, but there is nothing beautiful at all about the electric fence the Imps erected shortly after seizing control, emitting shocks harsh enough to kill.

Originally the stormtroopers said it was to protect the village from threats, but nobody believed the lie. The only threat to the community was the Empire. They don’t bother making up excuses anymore, now they like to remind everyone the whole village is their prisoner, usually by a show of violence so unbelievably malicious it stuns everyone into compliance.

There are some horrors time will never erase from your mind.

Juni trees grow beside the fence outside the perimeter, the only species of tree amongst the shrubbery and turu-grass, and they are tall enough for their thick orange branches to extend over the uppermost wire. In the mornings, Ahsoka climbs out your bedroom window, slides down the sloped roof of the house and leaps onto a nearby branch. You follow after her, trusting that she won’t let you fall when you stretch out your hand for her to catch you and lift you up using a bit of Force to give you a boost. The two of you sneak back inside the village using the same tree, only instead of leaping at the house, you drop the short fall onto the ground beneath. Five years and the stormtroopers haven’t caught onto your trick yet. 

Except now the tree isn’t an option. Not when you both are half-carrying, half-dragging two-hundred pounds of flesh and metal. 

Hiding behind a clump of coyal bushes, you and Ahsoka scout the entrance booth where a pair of stormtroopers dressed in their characteristic white armor stand guard, holding blaster rifles. There are others on patrol, walking along the fence and checking its integrity, gradually stepping further and further out of view, but they will be back eventually. Your window of opportunity is limited. 

You adjust the warrior’s arm over your shoulders, quietly groaning when your muscles protest the heaviness. “What are we going to do? Stormies might share one brain cell, but they’re definitely going to notice this heap of metal we’re carrying. And as soon as they find out we don’t have passes, they’re going to start shooting.”

Passes are only given to a handful of the community’s traders each week. It is a three day ride on a repulsorlift speeder to the capital where they have a short span of time to sell their goods and then return home within the week with essential supplies. To ensure no one tries to run away, the Imps set up strict rules. If the traders are late, even if only by a few minutes or due to reasons outside their control, the rest of the villagers pay the price. Usually the punishment is a public beating, but sometimes the stormtroopers get creative and tie their chosen victims to a pole overnight by their head-tails. 

Nobody, not even the younglings, sleep those nights.

“We’ll be fine,” Ahsoka answers, firm and confident, gaze fixed upon the gate. “Just follow my lead. I’ve got an idea.”

She doesn’t spare you a second to protest, stepping out into the open and forcing you to follow or else drop the warrior’s body. 

The stormtroopers spot the three of you immediately, relaxed postures stiffening with alarm, and you have to remind yourself over and over to breathe, to not let them see any hint of the anxiety buzzing beneath your skin.

“Hold it right there!” One of the stormtroopers orders when the distance between you and them has shortened to a mere three feet. You freeze at once, heart pounding as fast as a thimiar’s seconds away from being eaten. A quick glance at Ahsoka reveals no fear in her expression. She stares at them indifferently, as if she is about to talk about the weather. 

“Explain yourselves.” It is not a request.

You squirm, nearly knocking your head against the warrior’s bowed head, on the verge of losing your composure, when you notice Ahsoka lifting her arm.

“You will let us pass,” she says, adopting a suggestive tone while waving her hand in front of their visors.

They respond in unison, seemingly entranced. “We will let you pass.”

You bite your lip as you and Ahsoka pass between the stormtroopers and through the gate, not wanting to break the spell by letting loose the barrage of questions forming on your tongue. What your sister had done was as amazing as it was frightening. She had manipulated them with such confident ease you are certain this isn’t the first time she has performed the trick on someone. 

“When did Aunt Shaak teach you that?” 

“She didn’t,” Ahsoka replies lowly, casting a quick glance around. “I taught myself.”

Your skin prickles as you also become aware of the increasing number of eyes staring at you. With the sun fully awake and bringing morning light with it, several villagers are carrying on with their daily routines outside of their homes. Most of them seem a mixture of confused and concerned about the stranger, but you spy the Elders looking displeased by the new addition amongst their ranks. 

You are not looking forward to being inevitably summoned and interrogated by them.

“How?” you ask, copying her hushed cadence. Then, a pulse of panic blooms in your chest. “Have you ever—?”

“No, I haven’t messed with your mind before. Never even considered it,” Ahsoka interrupts, sensing your worries. “I don’t practice often, but when I do it’s just harmless little suggestions. Like convincing Huno to give the younglings an extra sugar biscuit when he has some to spare or persuading Jaelee to go to bed early when I know she’s been overworking herself. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t really sure the trick would work on those bucket heads since I’ve never tried it on two minds at once before. Lucky us, right?”

You nearly trip over your own feet. “What?”

Is she being serious right now? They would be dead right now if her gamble hadn’t paid off.

Ahsoka pretends not to hear you, nodding her head towards the blue-painted house up ahead. “C’mon, Maar probably already knows we’re coming.”

Maar Vashee has been the village’s healer for a little over fifty years. The purple-skinned Togruta helped deliver you and Ahsoka, and was considered by your mother when she was still living to be a dear friend. Her connection to the Force is especially sensitive due to her intricate relationship with the flora of the planet, using various herbs and plants to create remedies, and as such she developed a type of sixth sense where she instinctively knows when her skills are needed.

Entering her home that doubles as her clinic, you find Maar had indeed anticipated your arrival and set up a cot to place the warrior upon. Once he is laid down, you roll your aching shoulders, biting back a wince as the movement irritates the headache lingering at the back of your head. 

The warrior hadn’t made one noise the entirety of the trip bringing him here. Even now as he rests on the cot, his breaths are so quiet you would fear he wasn’t breathing at all if not for his chest moving. You touch his hand impulsively, laying yours over his gloved one. There is no response, not a twitch or spasm.

A sharp gasp of surprise has you whirling around, eyes landing upon Maar standing in the doorway between the clinic and her living quarters. She clutches a glass jar of spotted red herbs labeled nysillin against her chest, staring at the warrior like she is looking at a ghost. 

“Maar,” Ahsoka calls out softly, coming to stand by your side. A long moment of silence passes before the older Togruta manages to drag her gaze away to focus on you and Ahsoka, green eyes a bit too wide-eyed and haunted. Your sister’s gentle tone remains when she inquires, “What’s wrong? Do you...do you know him?”

Maar chokes out a brittle noise sounding like a cross between a dry laugh and a derisive scoff. “Personally? No.” She moves closer to the cot, the white circular markings around her eyes softening with what you confusingly identify as sympathy. “I’ve heard stories of his kind though. Years ago, many considered the Mandalorians the only ones capable of defeating the Imperials.”

“Holy frak,” you gasp before you can stop yourself.

As a youngling, your mother used to tell you stories about the fiercest fighters in the galaxy known as Mandalorians. They lived on Mandalore and had a special connection with their weapons, a bond nobody else could understand or mimic, trained to handle guns and knives as soon as they could walk. They defended the galaxy from unlawful rulers and the threat of enslavement, unafraid to spill blood when they knew peace would follow. Your mother told you they never lost a battle. Defeat was a word unknown to them.

At least until—

“Mandalorians were wiped out during the Decimation of Alderaan,” Ahsoka interrupts your thoughts, voice pitched high with disbelief. “And the few who lived were hunted down shortly after. The Imps made sure there weren’t any left to challenge them.”

As if triggered, you recall a detail from your brain glitch, a thought that had crossed your mind when you were flying through the storm. You had been looking for Aldera, the capital of Alderaan. 

It’s just a coincidence, you think. But a voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously like your Aunt Shaak counters, there are no coincidences. 

And as much as you loathe admitting it, that voice is right. Having the image of a mudhorn slip into your brain shortly before you find a warrior—no, a karking Mandalorian of all people—with the same creature on his armor? It is too precise to be a coincidence. Your paths were meant to cross each other.

If only you had the slightest clue as to why.

Maar sets the jar down on a nearby table, then picks up the Mandalorian’s wrist to check his pulse. “That is what we all thought,” she agrees after a minute of counting has passed, dropping his hand. “His armor is characteristic of their kind. Nothing in the galaxy is as strong or valuable as their beskar. Let’s pray to Ai our beliefs about the Mandalorians’ extinction are mistaken,” she nods towards the unconscious warrior, “especially for his sake.”

Realization creates a sickening pit in your stomach. 

Regardless of the status of his kind, when he wakes up his whole world is going to be flipped upside down.

__

Three hours later, not much has changed except the room is brighter, afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window, and smells sweet due to the bowl of herbs Maar left simmering on the table near the Mandalorian’s head, explaining the aroma will cure him of his hibernation sickness as he breathes it in.

“He’ll wake up when the marg sabls open tomorrow,” Maar told you with a gesture towards the potted red-and-pink flowers in the windowsill. They grow all over Shili, popular because they open their petals in a sunburst shape every morning. 

Ahsoka comes and goes, blessedly not criticizing your decision to sit at the warrior’s bedside when you have a list of chores to complete—doubled now that you lost your bet with Ahsoka earlier. She intercepts curious younglings hoping to sneak a glimpse of the Mandalorian whose presence has become known throughout the village. Nothing stays a secret long in the community. Gossip spreads as quickly as colds and takes twice as long to get over. 

If the stormtroopers catch on, the consequences will be disastrous. For once, Ahsoka shares your fears, admitting she isn’t capable of tricking a whole platoon. 

“The Elders aren’t happy,” Ahsoka says in-between sips of bone broth. “They think it’s too dangerous having him here.”

You swallow your mouthful, shaking your head. “I think it’s the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

Averting your gaze towards your lap, you scratch at an imaginary stain on your leggings. “Just a feeling I have.”

Ahsoka leans forward in her seat, pointing an accusing finger at you, causing your head to jerk back up. “The Force connected with you again, didn’t it? I knew you were acting weird before we found him.” She frowns, hurt flickering in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I never wanted to be special, Ahsoka,” you reply honestly. “I never wished or prayed to have visions, to have these random details pop into my head, to feel others’ emotions so strongly it’s like I’m trapped inside their bodies. There is nothing cool or entertaining about it. It’s…” Your voice cracks embarrassingly, forcing you to take a pause. You inhale a shaky breath. “It’s terrifying.”

“I had no idea you were struggling so much,” your sister murmurs, voice soft with contrition.

“How could you when I didn’t even want myself to acknowledge that I was?” you counter, feeling as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders as the truth sinks in. “I tried to ignore it all as best as I could. If not for meeting our friend over here,” you tilt your head in the Mandalorian’s direction, “I’d probably still be in denial. But I can’t ignore the Force this time. Not when the message is this important.”

“What is it?”

“We were meant to find him. To bring him back with us. I think—I believe he’s important. Remember what Maar said? About how people used to believe Mandalorians would beat the Empire?”

Ahsoka’s brow furrows incredulously. “You really think one warrior can defeat Emperor Gideon’s army? The rebels have been trying for years and the Emperor is always one step ahead.”

You can’t help deflating a bit, shoulders slumping. “Well when you put it like that…”

“Have you considered an alternative reason why he’s important?” she asks. When you don’t answer right away, she takes it as a cue to continue, “Maybe you’re right and he is going to change the galaxy for the better. But he could also be a warning. The Imps wiped out his kind, what if they plan to do the same to us?”

Your lips part to respond, only to close again wordlessly. You thought by accepting your brain glitches as messages from the Force they would become clearer, easier to understand. A lantern guiding you through this maze of darkness epitomizing your life.

But you have never felt more lost.

__

Falling asleep is a mistake. 

You didn’t know this when you rejected Maar’s suggestion to head home and sleep in your comfortable bed instead of curling up on her spare cot that squeaks whenever you move. The prideful side of you believed it was best if you were the first face the Mandalorian saw when he woke up because he would remember you and the promise you swore. He would trust you to explain everything to him.

Within a second of waking up, you realize how naive you were to think you had even a shred of influence over him. 

The sound of something shattering has you nearly tumbling off the side of the cot, jerking awake with a sudden burst of fear. You blink rapidly to clear the haziness of sleep from your vision, struggling to make sense of what you are seeing.

Pieces of Maar’s ceramic bowl litter the floor along with bits of charcoal and ash. Ahsoka and the Mandalorian stand on opposite sides of the room, staring each other down, poised to fight. The Mandalorian has a vibroblade clenched in his hand, while your sister crouches low, fists raised. You know Ahsoka can hold her own in a fight, even without the advantage of a weapon, but fear winds its way down your spine, cold and slimy, when you can’t help but notice how small she looks compared to him. Not only because he is a few inches taller, but because he also exudes an undeniable aura of intimidation: his unwavering silence, the skilled manner he wields his knife, even the sharp gleam of his beskar pieces reflecting the pale morning light has your chest tightening with dread.

The clinic’s lights flick on right as Maar announces her presence by cocking a blaster pistol. It is the Mandalorian’s own weapon, removed from his holster when Maar examined him earlier. “Alright,” she says to the room at large as she fully enters, dressed in her sleeping robe. “Let’s all settle down. Blood isn’t an easy stain to clean and I’d prefer it if none was spilt.”

You see the moment the Mandalorian decides to comply, shoulders loosening beneath the pauldrons and stance shifting from defensive to neutral, as he processes he doesn’t need to fight his way out of here. The vibroblade is sheathed within his right boot in one fluid motion and it is startling, truly, how quick he transforms from a dangerous threat to a potentially dangerous threat. 

Ahsoka is reluctant to yield, staring him up and down for a drawn out moment that does little to soothe your frayed nerves. Only when Maar pointedly clears her throat does your sister finally obey, straightening to full height with a hand propped on her hip, the picture perfect image of nonchalance. In another life she would have made a fantastic actress in a holovid drama.

“That’s better.” Maar nods, satisfied. “Now why don’t we—”

The Mandalorian moves so quickly that you jerk in anticipation of attack, eyes widening to the size of moons as you watch the pistol fly out of Maar’s hand and straight into his outstretched one. Your lungs seize up, a single thought flashing through your mind. This is it, the moment we all die. 

Except instead of shooting, he re-engages the safety mechanism and promptly holsters the gun at his side where it belonged. Without saying anything.

Ahsoka’s slack-jawed expression would have been comical if it hadn’t matched your own stunned face. Even Maar, who has witnessed over fifty years worth of shocking spectacles, looks awed by the unexpected display. 

You recover first, somehow managing to piece together the right words to ask a coherent question. “Are you a Jedi?”

It is only because you are staring directly at him that you notice the virtually imperceptible tilting of his head. “I’m a Mandalorian,” he answers bluntly, oblivious to how your heart skips a beat. “Weapons are part of my religion. It’s important to earn their trust.” He addresses Maar then, adding, “Especially if they’re stolen from us.”

His baritone voice has changed from when he spoke on the ship. Without the exhaustion wrapped around his vocal chords you are able to hear his normal timbre. Due to the modulator in his helmet, it has a husky quality, an intriguing mix of smoke and honey. But that is not what has your montrals prickling and your spine straightening. 

“I disarm all my patients,” Maar replies, back to being her cool, calm, and collected self. “I would have given it back—”

“How old are you?” 

You don’t realize you have spoken until two pairs of eyes and an expressionless visor look at you. 

The Mandalorian’s fingers curl and uncurl at his sides once, twice. “Nineteen,” he answers after a few seconds of lapsing silence.

“Oh Ai,” Maar murmurs, vocalizing your own thoughts.

All this time you have been thinking of the Mandalorian as a man beneath the amor. A hardened and seasoned fighter who has seen a lifetime of bloodshed and violence. But the reality is he is only two years older than you. Standing right on that thin, blurry line between being seen as a teenager and being considered an adult. 

“Who are you?” the Mandalorian asks, glancing first at you then your sister and back to Maar. Frustration and wariness blend together, sharpening his voice. “Why am I here? What happened?”

Ahsoka meets your eye with a question in her gaze, one you don’t have the answer for: where do we even begin?

Series Taglist: @pedro4ever​

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan @vintagesaph @sylphene @over300books @chibi-yuki @theocatkov @oh-no-a-whovian @absurdthirst​ @freeshavocadoooo @you-and-i-deserve-the-world @lin-djarin​ @happiestsparkleofall @randomness501 @gallowsjoker​ @coaaster @captain-jebi @leilei-draws @disgruntledspacedad​ @melobee @stilllivindue2spite @pointy-sharp @artsymaddie @waywardmando @thisshipwillsail316 @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @grogusmum @asta-lily  @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @sherala007​ @mejswho​ @uncle-kenobi​​

#Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian fanfic #togruta #ahsoka tano #the last mandalorian #my fic #my writing #pedrostories

[juletheghoul]

Mysticus Chapter 6

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: None - Fluff

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

Masterlist

If you thought he was touchy before, you were sorely mistaken. It was as though you were tethered together, some invisible string connecting you to one another. His hand always found yours and your body always seemed to carry you right to him.

He would absentmindedly draw little circles in your palm as he drove, and reached over to play with the hair at the base of your neck while you drove. He seemed to do it without even realizing and you found yourself doing the same. Your hand always drifted to his knee, always itching to touch his hair, absentmindedly fingering the little blonde patch. He always leaned into it; you had the sense that both of you had gone without human contact for a long time and were trying desperately to make up for lost time.

After that night -and next day- in the motel, you never slept apart. If either of you left the bed, the other woke up soon after. You vaguely wondered how the hell you had ever slept without him.

-

“We’re running low on funds, we should stop at the next town and figure something out.” You spoke as you counted through your pooled money. He kept his eyes on the road as read the highway signs, switching lanes to make sure he’d be able to take the next exit.

“Understood Birdie, I suspect we will do well here.” He spoke so confidently - he was good at charming people into hiring him for quick jobs. Manual labour, setting up events, he was a jack of all trades and didn’t ask any questions. Sometimes if he was sure the job was safe and easy he would manage to get you both hired. Whether it be for a few hours or a few days. Unless there was a fair or carnival in town, then you could do your palm readings.

On your way into town you noticed some signs advertising a drive-in and it sent a shiver down your spine. That was another place that made your skin crawl. Being inside the car and watching the movie was okay, it was everything else that gave you the creeps. There was a sense that nothing ever changed, a creeping nostalgia.

“Birdie, would you do me the great honour of accompanying me to the drive in? I’d very much enjoy taking my girls out on a real date.” The dog lifted her head sensing he was speaking about her, she sniffed his ear and settled back in the backseat.

His smile faltered slightly upon seeing the look of wild panic on your face.

“Don’t laugh, but the drive in kind of freaks me out.” You admitted almost shyly. He smiled at you but it wasn’t malicious, he grabbed your hand as he pulled into the nearest motel and pressed soft kisses to your knuckles.

“I would never laugh at you Birdie, if you are decidedly opposed then I will of course find somewhere else to woo you as you deserve. However, I’m sure I can find a way to give you a positively lovely experience.” He gave you the secret smile as he playfully nipped at your fingers. You shuddered as you tried to imagine what he was imagining and agreed. Who were you kidding? You would have agreed to anything he said in order to have him looking at you like that.

“Okay, fine.” You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Splendid. I’ll get us checked in while you make sure our girl here attends to her business.” He patted the dog warmly as he made his way over to the front desk. Within 20 minutes you were getting settled into your meagre accommodations, the dog sniffing around the room like she usually did. Satisfied the room was up to her standards she plopped down in the floor with a huff. Ezra then clapped his hands together excitedly turning to you and giving you a devastating smile.

“Alright Birdie, I inquired at the front desk and the first showing just started, I am partial to the late show myself and with your consent we’ll leave here in an hour. Now, if you’ll be so kind, I would humbly implore you to wear that lovely sundress I adore so much.”

* * * * *

You were torn as you pulled in, Ezra’s hand on your thigh was reassuring - a grounding force that communicated pure safety. You were safe when you were with him - no doubt about that - your mind however didn’t care. The drive-in was creepy and you couldn’t help but feel it. Like always - he sensed it.

“Birdie, would you like to leave? You are not obligated to be here if you are truly frightened. I am content with your company and your company alone. Everything else is immaterial.” He was looking at you intensely - wanting your complete honesty.

“I’m a little nervous - but I’ll be okay once the movie starts.” You leaned into him unconsciously - his touch made you feel better.

“If at any point you find you’ve reached your limit - simply say the word and we will depart.” He winked as he found a good spot for you to park. Knowing that you could leave at any moment made it marginally better, you could focus on having a good time.

He pulled a bag of goodies out from the back and handed them to you with a smile on his face, all of your favourites.

All in all it was actually fun, the two of you talking throughout the film, making bets on how it would turn out. You both leaned into one another over the little console, always connected in one way or another.

You watching him during one of your quiet moments, you knew you loved him - that was obvious, but there was something more. Something massive prickling at your brain, something that itched in your hand whenever you touched him. He gave you the secret smile when he caught you looking at him and the prickling grew more intense. Everything had to do with that smile - you knew it. There was something bigger that for one reason or another you refused to confront. What were you afraid of?

“Why do you smile at me like that?” You asked it playfully, in low tones and his grin widened. He knew - he always knew.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to Birdie.” He kissed your palm and you narrowed your eyes at him - he was teasing you.

“Yes you do - it’s like you know something that I don’t.” You were skirting around it now, getting perilously closer, were you really ready for this? He sensed your sudden panic and the smile faltered.

“What scares you so? Is it me?” His hand held yours and he drew those little circles into your palm, you had to be honest.

“No - never you.” you saw him let go of a deep breath then - “I don’t know - I get the feeling you know something and you’re not telling me. Am I crazy?” You looked into his eyes, trying hard to see if you could glean any insight into your suspicions.

“I am convinced you know more than you think, you may not be ready to face it though.” He drew your attention to your palm. To the mark you shared and you stared at them, you felt him willing you to see what he saw. “When I was a boy, my grandmother told me stories to calm me. I was a hellion, always moving. She was somewhat of a romantic, she would say this mark on my palm was special. That if I was lucky enough to find it’s twin on another person, that it would mean something.” he didn’t look up at you. This was it. This was what you’d been skirting around. You already knew you loved him, that he was essential to you, that you were glad you’d found each other but thinking it was preordained or destiny was almost inconceivable to you.

“What did you say when she told you?” You were imagining him as a little boy, the shock of blonde and those wild eyes. It made you a little sad to not have been a part of his life back then.

“I was disgusted!” He laughed then, and you couldn’t help but smile at the image. His little arms crossed stomping away as his grandmother laughed. “I told her she was crazy and that I was too wild, that I did not desire anyone. She laughed at me and informed me - quite correctly - that my mind would change as I got older.”

“Have you? Do you still think she was crazy?” you knew the answer, you knew then finally, what was so infuriatingly obvious. The smile dropped from his face completely, being replaced with a fierce intensity, his eyes almost burning into you.

“I have Birdie, she knew even then, what I know now.” He seemed to be guiding you - the hope that you would finally understand shining at you in the darkness of the car. The movie, long forgotten, the dog sleeping in the backseat.

“Us.. You and I…” You trailed off as the smile returned, only this time you were in on the secret.

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

tag-list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @max-lords-cyar-ika @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42

#ezra x you #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #soulmates au #prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra (prospect) #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra (prospect) x you #ezra

[crystalas]

Hind Sight

This is both inspired and a sort of prequel to Starfics’ answer to my prompt, I loved the idea of it so much that I started a Demon Bull Divorce AU, have fun!

Hindsight

Like a lot of things in hindsight MK could see that this was a very dumb idea.

It was a spur of the moment idea that came to him and Mei as they saw Red Son in the garage with his signature jacket hanging up because said fire demon was currently up to his elbows in tuk-tuk engine bits.

Red Son had just shown up at the noodle store one day declaring that he was there to ‘pay off his father’s debt’ after the whole lunar new year event. Everyone was a bit suspicious at first but Mei and MK decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all they knew he wasn’t all evil. True to his word he helped out with fixing stuff and had offered to upgrade the Tuk-tuk, after a few weeks they had managed to convince him to hang out with them after work as well.

That day MK had figured out how to shrink himself and after showing Mei she grinned and suggested they surprise Red Son with it.

Which was the aforementioned very dumb idea.

Said idea was for MK to shrink himself and then have Mei put him in Red Son’s jacket pocket, and when Red Son put it back on, have Mei ask the fire demon if he has seen MK and when he said no ask him to check his pockets…boom! Itty MK!

So, the joke was set, a shrunk MK in place and Mei was now walking up to Red Son as he clambered out of the Tuk-Tuk’s mechanical guts wiping away the grease from his hands.

“Hey Red boy” she beamed.

“Hey dragon horse girl” he said back as he got up.

“Have you seen MK?”

“No but I need to show him how to operate the upgrades…” he began but stopped when he looked at the clock on the garage wall, his smile dissolved into mild panic.

“Is that the time?!” he yelped and rushed past Mei grabbing his coat, igniting his hands to burn off all the grease and oil that had clung to him still and began to make a move for the door. “I’m sorry I need to get home tonight, tell Noodle boy I’ll show him tomorrow, okay?” Red Son yammered quickly.

“Red wait!” Mei cried as he vanished into a swirl of fire.

“Did you check your pockets?” she whimpered sheepishly.

 MK felt like he was in a weird fair ground ride, cushioned in fabric and being swung around like on a rollercoaster; it was kind of fun. Not to mention he found a wrapped candy in here and at his current size it was as big as a pillow! He could hear Mei and Red Son talking and waited for his que but then things got very bumpy and then felt very hot and weird for a second as he felt his whole body move in a way that shouldn’t be possible for him before the background ambience of the city suddenly died into a hushed sound of far-off clanking and whirring.

He poked his head out of the pocket to see he was now in an old Chinese style mansion but it was underground and hewn from the rock itself, the walls were adorned with demon Bull family heirlooms and pictures all showing the grand history of the conquering demon clan. MK could hear Red Son muttering to himself.

“I’ve got enough time to check on the projects and get in my best clothes…did I remember to check the repair schedule for the clones?”

MK was about to poke out of the pocket and announce himself when Red Son stopped by a large door that seemed to lead to a main hall, he seemed to hesitate near the entrance as MK and no doubt Red Son could hear angry raised voices.

“How is it I was the one stuck under a mountain but you are the one stuck in the past?” Demon Bull King demanded.

“I am thinking of our legacy and heritage, things you seem keen to throw away!” Princess Iron Fan retorted.

“Our pursuit of power has only brought us trouble!” came the angry reply “We need to move with the times!”

“Listen to you!” Princess Iron Fan screeched “You sound that useless son of ours!”

MK poked out of the pocket and looked up at Red Son who looked forlorn but not surprised as he carried on past the door his shoulders hunched over as he hurried through. Red Son came to a kitchen that seemed big enough to feed a whole court full of people but it was sadly empty and hollow except for one corner where a bull clone was currently working at a stove top. It saw Red Son and bowed respectively.

“I don’t think family meal time will be happening tonight” Red Son declared “so I will be taking my evening meal in my room…again…” the bull clone nodded and got back to preparing said meal. Red Son continued walking through the vacant halls as the vicious shouting ebbed away to quiet muffled sounds. He came to his room and sat at his desk; MK looked around to see his room unlike the rest of the castle had a bit of life to it. There were posters of car designs and movie mechs adorning the walls, a work table filled with small cabinets of tools and gear and what looked to be a shelf filled with scrolls and old tomes. MK had wondered why someone as tidy as Red Son would have what looked to be an arranged pile of tinfoil and fabric in a corner of his room before he realised that must his bed. He remembered Pigsy saying how some demons prefer nests to human style beds.

Okay I really need to show myself before things get even more awkward MK decided and he started to climb out but froze when he heard the door open, Red Son turned to see his mother glaring at him and MK quickly dived back into the safety concealment of the jacket.

“You’ve ruined him” she hissed, and MK could feel Red Son flinch. “Your father was a proud mighty demon King who conquered whole armies alone and made the heavens fear him and now looked at what you have done!”

“Isn’t this better?” Red Son said quietly “I mean…this way we won’t have to worry about him being hurt or sealed… aah!” came the pain gasped as MK could hear a very sharp and painful smack, MK grabbed the fabric of the pocket as Red Son’s whole body violently jerked to the side.

“Be quiet you worthless whelp!” she snarled “I kept our family name safe and proud for centuries and in one year you’ve weakened your father, the great Demon Bull King to the point that he wants to ‘settle down peacefully’!” she said the last bit dripping with venom and MK wished for Red Son to speak up or say something or at the very least move from where he was sitting but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry mother…” was all he managed after a moment of silence.

“Sorry doesn’t undo what you have done!” she spat and MK listened to the sound of her shoes moving away, “Sometimes I wish you had never returned!” she exclaimed coldly before shutting the door.

The fabric around him lurched as Red Son moved and he could feel energy pulse around him like the sky before lightning struck, it was only then did MK realised how dumb this idea really was. Red Son ignites into flames when upset or angry and it’s pretty obvious his clothes are fire proof to deal with that.

MK wasn’t fire proof…

MK made a mad scramble out of the pocket and leapt away just in time for a massive inferno engulfed where he had been hiding and everything else around it. He landed on the cold stone floor and patted himself down to make sure nothing was on fire and once he was sure he wasn’t smouldering he looked back up at the crackling fire ball that was his friend. Red Son still hadn’t moved from the desk but was now hunched over it his hands clawing into his fiery hair his eyes tightly shut but flames still leaked out and his whole body was shuddering as he tried to control his breathing.

MK decided that maybe he should give the fire demon with known anger issues some time to breathe and started to make his way to hide in the nest till he seemed to have calmed down but as he tiptoed his way across the room Red Son sensed the movement. The fire evaporating into the air as Red Son turned around and scanned the room, he glanced down to see a tiny MK in mid sneak.

Red Son looked at MK confused.

MK looked at Red Son worried.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Heh heh …Ta da!” MK said weakly and held out his hands as if to show off “Look what I can do now!”

“Noodle boy?” Red Son muttered quietly as his brain tried to fathom him being there before it clicked that he was and what that might imply. “How long have you been here?” he asked a look of dread falling on his face.

“Oh pssh!” MK tried to dismiss “Not long…no not long at all!”

“Noodle boy” Red Son growled, “How long?”

“… … …” MK struggled to come up with a decent excuse before sighing and returning to his full size, if they were going to have this talk he wanted to be able to look him in face. “Since you made a mad dash out of the garage…”

Red Son gave a groan and covered his face before returning to slump on the desk.

“I know this is going to sound dumb but is everything ok?” MK inquired, “I don’t know how demon families work but that…didn’t sound good.”

“Everything’s fine Noodle boy!” Red Son declared sharply, “My parents are just…going through a rough patch, that is all!”

“A rough patch huh?” MK muttered before walking over to the desk and lightly touching Red Son’s face where the red mark showing where his mother had slapped him was now fading away. How many times had that happened and no one knew thanks to demon healing powers? Red Son batted his hand away and snarled angrily.

“Yes!” he snapped and glared at his desk.

Things were clicking into place in MK’s mind, in hind sight he should have wondered why Red Son showed up out of the blue and wanted to pay off some demon debt, why he had wanted to stay around them as long as possible and even agreed to hang out in the evenings and only on certain days [apparently for family meal times] would he actually go home before anyone else.

MK remembered in the first week of Red Son coming over, Pigsy finally gave in and let Red Son help by telling him to try and get his old tricky stove working again. Red Son had not only fixed it but cleaned it up and gave it a full work through and when he was finished the thing looked and worked as if brand new. Pigsy in his joy of getting his stove back to its prime for free patted Red Son on the back and declared he had paid back the debt in spades.

MK had wondered that day why Red Son had looked so upset but had dismissed it when a moment later the fire demon had gone on a tirade about how insulting it was that Pigsy thought his father’s life was worth only an afternoon of labour.

Maybe Pigsy and Tang had cottoned on a lot sooner than he had because after that they would always find little things for Red Son to do to ‘pay back the debt’.

“Red Son” Mk said as these thoughts mulled in his mind “Was there even a debt to pay off?”

Red Son turned to face him, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before sighing.

“I…I…I thought you would be more at ease if you thought that I was honoured bound to behave…”

“Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Like what?!” Red Son retorted “Please may I come over here because I rather spend my days with my enemies rather than my parents because they’re constantly fighting and I can’t do anything to fix it?!” Red Son jaw snapped shut and his hair flared up angrily. “Because they don’t! Fight all the time…I mean…” he exclaimed as he tried to back pedal out of the conversation.

MK watched Red Son and felt a wave of pity come over for him, it was like looking into a mirror of seven years ago. He could almost feel the emotions Red Son must be going through right now, the uncertainty of what was going to happen next, the guilt of not being able to stop it, that gnawing anxiety of thinking if he was to blame somehow. And that horrible cold fear of knowing that sooner or later one of them will be coming up to take their frustration out on someone who won’t fight back…

He thanked the gods regularly that he was fortunate enough that it was Pigsy that caught him dump diving behind his store, how different would his life had been if Pigsy and Tang hadn’t taken him in? He probably had starved to death on the streets that winter.  

“Everything was supposed to get better when Father came back…” Red Son muttered to himself but was jolted back into the room as MK put his hands on his shoulders.

“Your parents are going through some stuff right now, so do you want to hang out at my place while they work it out?”

“What?” Red Son spluttered.

“Maybe they just need some space I dunno” MK said, “but what your mom did was not okay, and I’m worried about you”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends you dummy!” MK laughed “and friends help each other even without demon debts to pay!”

Red Son stood up and pulled out a duffle bag from his wardrobe, he started to fill it with clothes, a stuff bull toy that looked to be antique and over-night necessities.

“You seem to have experience with this sort of thing” Red Son ventured quietly as MK helped him put his tools away in a box for travel.

“Let’s just say I’ve been where you are” MK said softly.

“In your experienced opinion…will me not being here helped my parents to reconcile?”

MK swallowed a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t know if it helped with his parents because he ran away from home and as far as he knows they never came looking for him. Mk was on the streets for three weeks before that fated night at Pigsy’s and it’s been seven years since then and he’s only ever caught a glimpse of them while during his deliveries on the streets.

“Sure, they will” MK answered with a smile “I hope so!”

Red Son left a note telling his parents exactly where he was and how to contact him before they left.

MK wasn’t all that surprised when after explaining the situation Pigsy happen to have a spare fold out bed in the store room.

#monkie kid red son #monkie kid mk #demon bull divorce AU #red son

[phantom-curve]

For @panickosdisordr2, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive, I give you absolutely flustered Luke and poor, sweet, long-suffering Julie.

#38: stroking their leg & #41: sitting close and knees touching

Luke was still getting used to the fact that being Julie’s boyfriend meant he didn’t have to be so nervous about touching her anymore. For so long he had been forced to overthink every single interaction with her, needing to constantly toe the line of friendship even when he wanted so much more. Every touch, every lingering glance, had to be just this side of friendly. And no, he wasn’t always successful. Quite often his glances lingered a beat too long and his touches came close to being more proprietary than he had any right acting as a friend. Luke had made a list of rules to keep himself in check and he repeated them over and over before, during, and after he spent time with Julie.

Rule #1: No looking at Julie for longer than 30 60 seconds.

(30 seconds had been the goal, but who was he kidding? Julie was a freaking wrecking ball of musical talent and wickedly beautiful. 45 seconds was the absolute minimum he could handle, and even that was kind of pushing it.)

Rule #2: No writing blatantly obvious songs about Julie.

(Because really, every song was about Julie. But Julie didn’t need to know every song was about her. And Alex and Reggie really, really didn’t need to know, and no, just because they guessed didn’t mean they knew.)

Rule #3: No looking at Julie’s lips unless there was a microphone between them.

(He barely managed this one, which was why he kept sharing the mic with her more and more the longer they practiced and the more comfortable they became preforming together. It was the best kind of torture, and it wasn’t creepy, Alex, pay attention to drumming and not front people stuff!)

Rule #4: No touching Julie except for her shoulders and her arms and her waist (but only if they were hugging!)

(So what if Luke made sure to hug Julie a lot. He was a touchy-feely kind of guy, everyone knew that, and he only hugged someone after making sure they were okay with it. Julie never pushed him away, in fact she seemed to like the fact that he was so open with affection and comfort. It was fine.)

But dating Julie meant that all of those rules went right out the window. And Luke was still figuring out how to navigate that.

Julie didn’t seem to have any problems on her end. She slipped seamlessly from best friend to girlfriend without missing a beat. She would lean into him when they sat next to each other during lunch and move his hair out of his face without hesitation as she gazed into his eyes with a million stars dancing in her own. Her touch was casual but affectionate, her fingertips almost always finding some patch of skin to skim across whenever he was within arm’s reach. She kissed her way along his skin with an enviable ease, never holding back because she wasn’t sure he would like it, but instead blazing a path along his cheek or his collarbone or molding her lips against his as if she had always known that was what he so desperately desired most in the world.

Luke would never tell her, but part of his hesitation was because he felt wholly undeserving of her unwavering devotion. What had he ever done to earn someone as bright and beautiful as Julie Molina? He knew if he told her, she would have a million and one reasons why he was wrong, so he mostly kept it to himself and reveled in her easy affection every chance that he got. He should have known that eventually she would call him out on it.

“Luke...do you...not want me to touch you?”

He just hadn’t expected her to ask like that.

They were working on a new song out in the studio, a place Julie had chosen that he had assumed was because she didn’t want Carlos bothering them and because they had easier access to their instruments out there. They were sharing the couch, sitting across from each other with a shared notebook open between them, offering different lyric ideas back and forth as they tried to nail down the right lines. Luke hadn’t even realized that Julie had slowly been moving closer. He had only registered the feeling of their knees brushing occasionally, skin touching skin because his jeans were ripped, and she was wearing a pair of shorts to combat the stifling LA heat. Every time she had leaned in, he had leaned back, his years long set of rules so engrained he had forgotten that he didn’t have to follow them anymore. It was only when Julie quietly posed her question, teeth peeking out to bite down on her lower lip, cute little top gap flashing at him and reminding him that she was his girlfriend now, that he realized what he had been doing.

“Julie, no, of course I want you to touch me!”

Luke felt himself flush from head to toe as he realized how his words had sounded. He scrambled forwards, knocking their knees together painfully, although Julie, to her credit, didn’t even flinch. He took a deep, stuttering breath and tried again.

“I didn’t...I wasn’t trying to move away from you. I just...sometimes I forget I get to do that now.”

Julie quirked a brow and tilted her head slightly. Luke wanted to scratch his eyeballs out so he never had to see her looking so hurt and confused again. He groaned, reaching behind his head to give his hair a soft tug, recentering himself in the moment. He forced himself to meet Julie’s gaze and explain in a way that would actually make sense. He also made sure to scoot forward a bit so that their kneecaps were firmly pressed together, skin to skin.

“I just...for so long I wanted to be able to touch you in any way and have it be totally normal and okay.”

The words weren’t flowing perfectly, and Luke cursed the fact that Julie was able to scramble his brains and mess with the one thing he had always felt confident in. He pushed on though, because this was Julie, and if anyone was going to understand him, it was her.

“But I didn’t...I couldn’t...we weren’t like that, you know? We were friends and yeah, I love my friends, and I hug my friends, and I’m affectionate with them or whatever, but with you it was...different. I didn’t want to just be friends. But I also didn’t know what you wanted, and more than not wanting to just be friends, I didn’t want to not be a friend, so I made these rules. Rules about how I couldn’t say too much or do too much or touch you too much because it would mean more to me than it would to you and that wasn’t fair. And then everything changed, and you liked me too, and now we’re like a freaking dream, like I don’t always believe it kinda dream, and so I fall back on the rules. Because what if I say too much or do too much or touch you too much and I ruin everything?”

That...was a lot more than he had meant to say. But Julie wasn’t looking at him with judgement in her gaze. Her eyes were gentle and warm, her lips parting almost as if she was in awe, her features softening completely. She reached forward, slowly and deliberately, to place her hands along his thighs, just above where their knees were still touching. She leaned in, the pressure of her hands strong and steady, her scent invading his senses until everything in his world shrunk down to nothing more than JulieJulieJulie.

“You could never say or do too much. And you 100% could never touch me too much. Do you know how long I waited for you? Do you know how many rules I tried to come up with, how many nights I told myself over and over again that I needed to just get over you because it was never gonna happen? How many times I was so sure I was going to ruin the band and our friendship because I was so stupidly in love with you and nothing I did could stop it?”

Luke was having a hard time remembering how to breathe. He hadn’t ever thought about any of that. Because Julie had always seemed so confident and self-assured. She had been the one to make the first move that turned them from friends to more. She had been the one to confess how she felt first. She had always been his safety net, taking the plunge before he could, reassuring him so that when he stepped off the ledge, he knew she would be there to catch him.

“God, I love you so much,” his words were fierce and intense as he touched his forehead to hers and whispered them into the small space between their lips. “What the hell would I do without you?”

“Well, you’d probably still be trying to figure out the bridge and ending to Edge of Great without me.”

Luke growled and lunged forward, tackling Julie to the couch, and smothering her shriek beneath his lips. He felt her mouth curve into a smile, the kiss turning sloppy as she giggled uncontrollably. Her hands wound around his shoulders, twisting into the hair along the nape of his neck and threatening to turn him boneless against her. He broke away, propping himself up on his forearms so that his body remained stretched out along hers as he stared down at her.

“I can’t believe I get to be with you. You promise it’s not a dream?”

“If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming. And I don’t think we can actually share dreams no matter how much we love each other. So, you’d better believe it, babe. I’m yours, forever.”

That did turn Luke boneless, every inch of his being melting down on top of hers, so they were connected from head to toe. Julie didn’t protest. She just pulled him closer, whispered you’ll always be mine against the skin of his neck, her breath hot and spellbinding against his skin. Luke didn’t argue. Who could argue with a goddess like Julie and expect to win? The best prize of all was knowing she loved him just as deeply as he loved her; he wasn’t about to try and convince her otherwise.

If Luke was able to love Julie for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough for him to show her how much he cared. But that’s what ever afters were made for, right? A lifetime and then some. Luke knew with every fiber of his being that he would love Julie far past the time their respective stars burned out. That’s what destinies were all about. Loving forever and ever and ever. Even after you thought you were gone, the legacy lived on, timeless and unbreakable. That was them. Forever and a day, no end in sight for the rest of eternity.

#I'm on a soft Juke train tonight and I cannot be stopped #choo choo motherfuckers #THEY JUST LOVE EACH OTHER OKAY #will I ever write Luke without making him insecure in the face of Julie's incredibility? probably not #mads writes #jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #jukebox #jatp ficlet #juke ficlet #julie molina #luke patterson #send me prompts for my birthday!

[lochsides]

Yellow Metal - cathartic Review

Here’s something I did not expect to be reviewing this week but when Zayn drops a 24 minute rap track, you fall in line. I had to listen to it a couple times through before I could even begin to make sense of my thoughts because my brain sort of malfunctioned. I have never been prouder to be a Zayn fan. He’s such a nuanced songwriter and there is so much to unpack here.

I think this is the most unfiltered version of Zayn that we have ever been exposed to (and possibly will ever be). I am grateful that he said his piece in this because it needed to be said. As a brown woman, I felt so seen by this and I cannot explain what that means to me. Thank you Z, for your unvarnished truth in addressing racism and various forms of discrimination.

I’m doing a short lyrical analysis below the cut, but the TLDR is that this is a fantastic piece of art that deserves to be heard.

I wish he had released this as an EP because that would be easier to review than a single 24 minute song, structurally speaking. So instead, I have picked out some key lyrics, going from top to bottom, that really spoke to me and decided to study the song that way. His lyricism is hard-hitting in this track. It is beyond anything he has ever released before.

“The planet bleeds, the damaged trees. It’s never leaving until we ascend so fuck the fence.” — I have not seen this lyric being talked about in the fandom, because the lyrics that follow this steal the show, rightly so, but I wanted to give this line a moment because it’s important too. To me, this lyric speaks to where Zayn is at with his relationship with the physical world. He’s out on the farm (about which he even goes to say “tell you what I like, farm life and the tractor”) and I believe he’s happy in his space and he feels connected to nature (also see River Road). So it is a poignant and slightly jaded, but valid perspective that he shares on climate change. It’s never leaving until we ascend. The damage human beings have done to the planet won’t be undone until there are no humans left to do damage. It’s a single sentence that says so much about the depth of the climate crisis. I’m doing my PhD on urban air quality so this is something I care really deeply about and I resonated with.

“And until they stop killing colour, it’s fuck the feds.” — Yeah, agreed Zayn. The systemic racism that he calls out here is echoed throughout the song, in equal parts anger and boldness. I love that he isn’t glossing over it with metaphors, which he could easily do and it would be beautiful in a totally different way, but this makes it harder for racists to overlook. There is so much power in calling it like it is.

“Never lose me to fentanyl, scared when I take a Benadryl, keeping it green in general.” — It frustrates me to no end to see Zayn painted as this drug-addicted lazy musician that doesn’t care about his work, because we know how untrue that is. This narrative is tired and simply boring too, and I won’t get into the racist connotations of it when you consider it against his white colleagues who smoke as much as him but that isn’t one of their defining traits in the media.

“I’m racking up excuses while I’m slacking off on work … it was hard work that got me heard” — I love the juxtaposition in this verse. The public/media perception on his career is that Zayn doesn’t put in effort or that he doesn’t want it. This obviously stems from his leaving the band. It goes back to what I was saying before about narrative, when in reality, as Zayn has said on various occasions, he fights to make his own choices. And that doesn’t have to look the way everyone else expects it to (“I beg you, don’t include me. I might write it on my shirt”), he has his own struggles that have helped forge his path, but it is his path that he paved, himself. He works hard to be heard. He has to. It reminds me of something my parents used to tell me when I was younger about being immigrants: you have to work 10 times harder for the same opportunities just because of the colour of your skin or your name on the cv. It’s a harsh truth to grow up with but it was my reality, as it is for most POC.

“This life doesn’t give you no armour, a lot of myself can harm you. I swear on what’s good, that I’m here ‘til they take me. I pray that I’m wrinkled, at least over 80…” — There is something about the simplicity of these lyrics are the messaging that I love. He isn’t trying too hard to sound poetic but he still manages it perfectly.

“All I've been achieving, clocking miles in this region, moving like a legion. Promise that I made to myself, an allegiance. Do you still believe I’m a fool for ever leaving? Staring at the ceiling, can never put a cap on achieving. I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving. // I’ve had about enough of being my own enemy. It’s time I grew up, a long way from 17. Always went against the grain, struggles in my life. Got some things to say when I stand up on the mike.” — This is the only 1D-related lyric I’ll make reference to because this song is about so much more than that. That said though, we cannot overlook Zayn’s experiences in the band because that is part of his story. The tongue-in-cheek of “I’m just here for the rap, then I’m leaving” is hilarious to me. The line about not wanting to be his own enemy anymore and growing up from 17 reminds me of that quote Taylor (Swift) mentioned in Miss Americana about celebrities getting stuck at the age they got famous. I think this verse is similar to that. None of them ever wanted to be in the band and I don’t care what anyone says, Zayn leaving and proving success outside the band gave the rest of them the courage to follow their own solo careers. Sure there was drama surrounding the split but he did it for himself, to tell his stories the way he is now. Whatever else you have to say about him, you cannot deny his authenticity.

“I ain’t dropping this for fame, I need this time, like therapy, it’s just to keep me sane.” — I think this line tells us 2 things, the first being that this song was not leaked. Z knew what he was doing and his twitter likes tell us as much. He didn’t release it for any sort of attention, otherwise it would be widely available on streaming platforms and for purchase. Which leads to my second point, he released this song to get everything he talks about on the track off his chest. Its referenced in other lyrics too, like “now you see where I come from, the world don’t.” This was for whoever cared to listen, not the world. It’s inaccessible for a reason. I love that he threw those lyrics in. It makes the song feel more like a private conversation or listening to a friend rant. It creates a different form of intimacy between himself and his fans.

“Lessons that I’ve learned, I’ve tried teaching to myself. What I’ve learnt from certain people is that they’re better than myself. So I surround myself with real ones, and you feel the plastic melt.” — This one is for anyone that buys into conspiracy theories surrounding Zayn’s personal life. He surrounds himself with real people, real friendships, real connections. I have never bought into the bullshit that he has zero autonomy over his personal life. I love the use of plastic melting as a metaphor for ridding his life of fakeness.

“Feeling trapped. This industry is a cage.” — Zayn is obviously not the first person to say it. Many artists talk about how suffocating the industry is ( which he further comments on in the sung portion: “I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this, no, I don’t wanna be, I don’t wanna be, a part of this”). Fame is such a wild and unnatural concept and the exploitation and politics of the music industry only feed further into it. The industry being a cage makes me think of zoos and how celebrities are animals on display, when they should be free in the wild. I also really like the musical interlude following this part.

“Nobody’s speaking the truth, I’m offended by the State. Look at the state of the news, I’ve decided the argument, reciting my views.” — Zayn toes the line between keeping to himself and speaking out on important issues, sometimes not very well. I am his biggest cheerleader, but I’m not up his ass. There have been many occasions where he could’ve done better. But I cannot fault him for being offended by the State because same, Z, same. I love that he took this song as an opportunity to real speak out, no punches pulled.

“See I’ve been facing the racists from back when I were a kiddie. Born up in 93’. Living in Bradford City, they kicked me out of the school. Said they had a problem with me hitting the kids that would call me p***, still sit in the classroom, chilling. I’m angry now that I’m older cause I see they treat us different. Got me thinking I’m the problem ‘cause they never dealt with these issues.” — See what I meant about no punches pulled. He said that! He said it like that too. There is so much in this verse that I relate to, it hits a little too deep. I grew up as a brown in predominantly white communities where the colour of my skin was the reason I was outcasted. We know when that’s happening, clear as day. The lyric “got me thinking that I’m the problem cause they never dealt with these issues” says it all. I have many racial traumas that I’m dealing with as an adult because the adults around me when I was a child didn’t deal with racism in the classroom. They do treat us different!

“20 years later, I’m still in the same boat. Tryna treat me like my grandpa, say I came up off the boat. Came to tell you what I stand for. Man I think you’re shit, a joke. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? // Pushing my feelings down, you ain’t got it like them. ‘Boy your skin is so light.’ Ok motherfucker, take my name up on a flight. Try to convince immigration that your bloodline’s half white.” — Zayn talking his shit is my new favourite art form. How can I be civil when they got me by the throat? Something that I will always be enraged by is that POC are expected to de-escalate situations of racism. We have to push our feelings down, as Zayn says in the verse, because the institution is against us. All of the institutions are against us. The fact that he takes it a step farther to say that his name makes him a target for racism, even though he is half-white just nails his point home. Also, can we please quit the whole ‘Zayn is white-passing’ bullshit. He alludes to it again later in the song (“asian in my face, but still my race you can’t define”). Its not a compliment to erase someone identity in favour of white-washing them.

“My name ain’t on the list unless they label it ethnic.” — Oh, the amount of times we have heard that age old (v. racist) saying ‘{celebrity of colour} is the new [insert white celebrity here]’ as if POC aren’t allowed to succeed in their own right. It is wild to me that Zayn has to deal with this given his level of success.

“Start to understand why they think that I’m threatening. I move in certain ways, couldn’t slow me with ketamine.” — There is a subtle nod to racism (and Islamaphobia) in this line, because of course the brown man is a threat, but I like the way Z turns it around. I also like the rhyme scheme.

“Raised on the benefit for whose benefit? They’ll never learn shit, man, if the shoe fits.” — Okay I might be reaching here, but this is just my interpretation. We all know the benefit system in the UK sucks. Being raised on benefit implies a lack of money growing up, but the benefits aren’t really all that beneficial to the families that rely upon them.

“Dealing with the hurt, they should know cause they don’t deserve it, it hit deep cause I hit the nerve.” — Well, okay then, just call me out. It’s fine. I seriously feel like he’s talking to me directly with this line. I imagine a lot of us do. Its one of those lyrics that are a bit too honest but that why we love them.

“Cathartic, I’m an artist. Trying to put my heart in” // “Freedom fighter, Yellow Metal is my name.” — So do we have an alternate persona for Zayn now? Alright, I’m down. I think these two lines are tied together, because both are mentioned in the song title. (I think of the song as cathartic, by Yellow Metal, aka Zayn, or Yellow Metal as the name of the EP if this was officially released). The lyrics that accompany both title lyrics, along with the subject matter of the song as a whole, suggest that his heart is in standing up against injustices. I said it earlier, this is the most unvarnished version of Z that we have ever been exposed to. Almost like the complete picture to the puzzle pieces we’ve been putting together over the years.

“They’re tryna kill us with disease.” — Why did this line scream out ‘COVID-19 outbreaks in developing countries’ to me? Again, I might be reaching, but there is a disparity between how COVID is treated amongst minorities, along with many other diseases, and not to mention rich, primarily white countries hoarding vaccine supplies while places like India (and my beautiful Bangladesh and I’m sure Pakistan too) suffer needlessly.

“Started something sick and on my mind is what’s next. Just became a dad so now I’m taking all the cheques. Better know I’m staying and paying like it’s debt. Imma get it done, if it’s taking all my breath, sweat, and down I ain’t messing around ’til I’m the best.” — I think this lyric shows off Zayn’s sentimental side more than it does his ambitious side, because we know he’s in this for the long haul. Others may doubt that but his fans never have. But hearing him talk openly about being a father on a song is something else. It’s like Khai added this whole other layer of meaning and purpose to his life and it’s beautiful to watch. I’ve been here since the X-Factor auditions guys!! It makes me so emotional to witness him like this.

“Aint many of me around, p***, I’m just different. Certain stages to this level aint here because fame is to the devil, fuck a label, imma do this from the ghetto.” — God, we’ve been waiting for a fuck the label moment in this house, haven’t we? I won’t get into my theories on his label or his team, but none of us deny the fact that they should be doing more for him than they are. He has the potential to be the biggest thing with the right team and promo because he has a built-in fan base that would go the mile for him. Obviously, there’s also his aversion to promo to contend with and that’s his decision. Even without it, he could shatter every ceiling. Another thing I want to mention about this verse is the nod to the complete lack of South Asian representation in contemporary Western media.

“Don’t know what’s worse: the way that you live your life or the way that you write a verse.” — I’m just putting this in here because it made giggle. Also going to take this space to say how much I love his energy in this song. He knows he’s the shit, as he should!

“Can’t be louder … so free Gaza on my banner.” // “They’re hating on Palestine ways.” — I love that Zayn has always supported this movement, years ago, before being ‘woke’ was a thing. But now, he has a daughter that has Palestinian heritage and I’m sure that makes this hit that much deeper for him, personally. The apartheid in Palestine is heart-wrenching. It’s so strange to me to watch it happen, because I never thought I would witness something like this happening in 2021, yet here we are.

“Like vipers, I see the sly ones, the snake that’s called Biden, none of them abiding what they might put in writing. We should be used to it by now, say whatever for the vote and then just choose another route. Say they’d never kill another unless that brother’s skin is brown. I’m just telling you the facts, if you can’t take it, the truth naked, to bare bones and my thoughts lately, spitting politics.” — This verse is straight up savage and I am living for it! I find it hilarious that he called Biden a snake. This verse addresses the truth about politics, that even electing a left-wing leader doesn’t fix the system.

“I’m Tony Stark, still embarking on a dream” // “Gone green like Bruce Banner” // “He taught me like Ra’s Al Ghul. Felt like living in Gotham, the people were rotten.” — And to tie it all off, I wanted to take a goofy moment to mention all the superhero lyrics Z added in this song, really showing his personality because I’m such a nerd when it comes to this stuff and it makes me wish that we were friends so I could annoy him to death about it.

#reviews #zayn #yellow metal #cathartic #zayn malik

[zevlors-tail]

Rooftops

Pairing: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Description: Sometimes being a Hero isn’t just fighting villains and rescuing people from burning buildings; sometimes it’s battling demons and rescuing people from themselves instead.

Warnings: Suicidal reader, thoughts of suicide, attempted suicide? (reader doesn’t succeed), trauma bonding, mentions of bullying, little bit of touch starvation? Talks of therapy, decision to try therapy.

A/N: I guess you could say I needed to vent some heavy things. PLEASE do not read this if you are triggered by anything mentioned above. Also, I HC that Midoriya never would have gone through with it, but he might have at one point been in the reader’s position, and I wish they would expand on how what Katsuki said and did to him in middle school affected his life more. I will never be satisfied until we get a proper apology from Bakugou and the two of them sort out their feelings about it, bc you KNOW that had to create some trauma. So I guess this might be sort of a fix-it fic? Also, I’m sorry for the ending, it might be cringe, idk. I can’t help but add fluff to everything I write, apparently. I love Best Boi, what can I say?

You breathed in the cool night air as you leaned against the railing, fingers trembling slightly against the rusty metal. Everything seemed so surreal; the noisy traffic below, the people bustling down streets and alleyways, the dimmed apartment lights from the building across... What did any of it matter? In the grand scheme of things, you were just a small spec of the universe observing all these phenomenons, a waste of space taking up time that could belong to something or someone more useful than your sorry excuse of an existence. That’s what you thought, at least.

You leaned a little farther over and rested your chest against the bars of steel. Would anyone miss you if you were to just...disappear? If you dropped everything and left right now, would anyone care? Would anyone cry for your absence? These were questions you had asked yourself over and over again, and each time you had managed to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, the answer was yes, someone would care. But each time the questions rolled around in your head, it got harder to convince yourself of that. You found doubts in every corner of your mind, in every crack and crevice of your brain that they could slink into. Quiet at first, but now as loud as a siren, they overwhelmed you and made you believe you were worthless. They beat you down, exhausted you, claimed your once happy spirit and soiled it with numbness and apathy. Those doubts were the reason you wholeheartedly believed that you no longer mattered to anyone.

They were also the reason you were twenty stories up in the air on the roof of your apartment building.

Steeling your nerves and taking a deep breath, you let everything sink in. This was what you were waiting for all these years. All of your life had lead up to this single moment; all of your past mistakes, all of your life decisions, all of the lost friends, your job, your family and their snide remarks, your short comings...and all the rest. It didn’t matter. Every time you blinked, every sneeze, every laugh, whether genuine or fake, didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, including you.

Nothing matters, and no one cares.

And with that final thought, you hoisted yourself up and over the railing, limbs heavy with a dull numbness as you planted your feet loosely on the other side. For a second you balanced yourself, arms outstretched behind you to grip on to the bars for one last fleeting sense of security. Just one more step. But even as you moved forward, you found that your hands seemed to tighten their grip on the steel, and suddenly you felt physical panic despite your mind telling you that this was what you really wanted. It seemed your body was defying your mind.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

Startled, you stumbled back and tightened your hold on the rails until your knuckles turned white. Were you imagining things, or did you just hear a voice? And if so, who was it and what were they doing all the way up here? Whatever their business was though, it surely had nothing to do with you, right? So why were they meddling in your affairs when you just wanted to be left alone? The thought of it was just a little too much, and you found yourself snapping at whoever was behind you.

“Uh, yeah, I think I do.” It came out more spiteful than you meant it to sound. But then, that was just how you were these days...bitter and cold. All the more reason to end everything.

“Please, just come back over here to the other side of the railing. We can talk if you want, or I can just sit with you, or we can listen to music together if that would help?” The stranger’s voice was gentle and pleading, as if he was afraid to break you if he spoke too loud. 

“Just leave me alone! Why do you care anyway?” You stole a glance behind you to get a good look at the person trying to talk you down. The first thing you noticed was the green hair, and then the pair of concerned emerald eyes reflecting back at you. Under those were a set of freckles, giving him an overall boyish look, and finally- his costume. You recognized Japan’s Number One Hero, Deku.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt...or worse.” His tone was solemn. “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave you alone up here. Clearly you had one purpose for coming up here, and I’m not going to let you go through with it.”

For a moment, you felt your heart soar at the possibility that someone cared after all. But just as hope was about to take root and bloom within your chest, it seemed that your mind had other ideas to cut the poor blossom out. As fast as the feeling settled, it was gone, and you reminded yourself that this was his job; he was required to help anyone who he thought might be in trouble. It wasn’t like he really wanted to be up here talking to you.

“What the hell do you know about why I’m up here? And anyways...it’s your job to save people. You don’t have to pretend to care about me. It doesn’t matter if you’re the number one hero or not, you’re still going to forget about me some day or another. A week from now you won’t even think twice about me. I’m forgettable. I don’t matter...not really. So please just leave me be. You’re bothering me.” No matter how hard you tried to keep the anger in your voice, you couldn’t help how it faded with each passing second. It was tiring to keep feeling everything and nothing all at once. You wanted it all to just stop.

There was long moment of silence that passed between the two of you, which you took as a sign that you had been right about everything you had just said. Your anxieties and nerves were starting to get to you by then; you were about to really go through with it and had inched forward slightly when he decided to speak again. 

“Once, someone told me to take a swan dive off the roof of my old school.” Your breath hitched as you stopped in your tracks. “I know what it’s like not to be wanted or needed by everyone around you. To feel like a failure, like there’s no hope left... Like you’re not worth saving. But even if you really think and believe all those things you said about yourself, just know that I care. And it’s not because it’s my job to, or because I’m a Pro Hero, or because I just happened to be in the area and saw you up here after my shift ended. It’s because at one point in my life, I could relate to where you are now.”

You were left without words for once as you stood there, wind whipping through your hair and eyes focused on nothing in particular. After the initial shock wore off, you finally turned around to face him. You searched his eyes for any trace of deception, anything to prove that maybe he was lying or just trying to get to you, but all you could find was sincere honesty. And Deku, upon seeing you turn around from the edge of the building, seemed to tense for a second before continuing.

“I climbed up to the top of the school roof that day and when I got up there, I just...stared down. All I could think about at the time was making the pain and the numbness go away. But then I thought of my mom’s face when she would hear the news...and I thought of how I would only be a statistic after that- a number, you know, like the ones I recorded every day in my notebook. But I didn’t want that. I had a name that I loved, a mother waiting for me at home, and a dream I was still holding on to. I realized what I really wanted was to prove everyone wrong, to still become the hero I wanted to be as a little boy. And even more than that, I just wanted the pain to stop. I think that’s what people truly want- just to feel better.” He gave you a small smile and offered a hand to you after that, and you swore his eyes were glistening a little if you looked close enough. “I would care if you were gone. I would think about it every day. I don’t even know your name, but your face is already engraved in my mind. I would have made the biggest mistake of my life had I ended things that day; look at where I am now! If I let someone else take away all their future opportunities and potential life experiences knowing that I could have stopped them, knowing that I didn’t offer them the support I desperately wanted when I was going through it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“...you mean that?” You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice.

“Every word. Please, just come back over to this side and talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I promise I’ll do my best to help however I can.”

Something pulled at your heartstrings as you listened to him. He had put into words everything you had been feeling these past few months, everything you wanted to express but just couldn’t. Tentatively, you reached out a hand to meet his, and he wasted no time as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and hoisted you back over the railing towards safety and into his arms.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out. His arm was still wound tight around your waist as he pulled you flush to him and walked you backwards. When the two of you reached the wall of the entryway to the rooftop, he stopped and slid down to the floor with you, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his lips. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again.” You blinked back tears as you leaned into Deku’s tight hug, your arms coming up to wrap around him as well. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so loving and caring with you or the last time you had been hugged like this. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

That was all it took for the dam inside of you to burst.

Hot tears finally spilled over and soaked Deku’s costume as all the emotions you had been suppressing came back full force. You hid your face in his shirt to try and stifle your cries as much as you could, but it was no use. There was no hiding the turmoil in your soul; all you could do was endure the sadness and frustration while he held you and comforted you. Slowly the reality of the situation started to sink in, and the realization that you almost took your own life hit you full force.

“I...I almost-!” You didn’t have the strength to finish your sentence as you sobbed harder and shook in the hero’s arms. He eventually shifted the two of you around to a more comfortable position and rubbed circles on your shoulder soothingly while you cried, a look of understanding and empathy in his eyes.

“But you didn’t. And you know what that tells me? That despite all those lies you’re telling yourself, there’s still a part of you left that wants to live. There’s still a part of you, no matter how small, that’s holding on to hope that things will get better. Find that feeling deep down inside you, grasp it, and never let go of it. You deserve to exist here. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to wake up each day and live and enjoy life. And I know you probably don’t feel that way right now, but believe me when I say that it’s the truth.” A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you took a moment to contemplate his words.

“You said we could talk if I wanted to...” you sniffled.

“Sure, we can talk. It doesn’t even have to be about anything in particular. Whatever you want to talk about, I’ll listen.”

So you told him everything. You poured your heart out to someone who was no more than a stranger to you, even if you recognized his face because it was plastered on every poster and broadcasted on every T.V. Even if you knew who Deku was, the person behind the mask was someone else entirely, and it brought a sense of comfort to you to know that a real person was listening to your troubles and caring about them. For once, someone was taking the time to make you a priority, and that was not something you were used to.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired of listening to me by now. I can’t believe I dumped all of that on y-” you tried to apologize, but he shook his head and cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t be. I offered, didn’t I? I genuinely want to hear about what’s troubling you. Everyone deserves to be listened to, especially when they’re hurting. You’re important, and what you have to say is also important. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

You blinked up at him with wide eyes. How was he so good at this? A thought crossed your mind then, and you wondered for a brief moment if...had anyone ever listened to him? He had taken the time to calm you down and make you feel important by listening wholeheartedly to everything you had to say. The least you could do was return the favor, right?

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good listener?” you asked, a small but sincere smile on your face.

“Yes, actually. Plenty of times, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. It just means I’m succeeding at making others feel important, which is what I aim to do, so thank you for that.” He stared up at the night sky, his eyes reflecting the sparkling stars above. They were...so full of life. You found that fact inspiring.

There was a small pause before you asked him another question, hesitance evident in your voice. “Have you...told anyone? About what you said to me earlier, I mean.” It came out more awkward than you intended it to, and he seemed confused about what you were trying to ask.

“About what I said to you earlier?”

“Y-You know, the...rooftop...” you trailed off, not wanting to pry if he didn’t want to talk about it after all. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed since you mentioned it earlier that maybe you wanted to talk about it or something- Ah, I’m making things worse, I’m really sorry!” You ran your hands through your hair, anxiety getting the better of you and making your heart race. Deku shifted slightly beside you but kept his arm around your shoulders, a look of understanding coming over him.

“Oh, that?” He gave a small airy laugh. “While I appreciate the concern, I have a really great therapist. It’s kind of a requirement for Pros; we deal with a lot on the job.”

“...oh.” Oh. Oh. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but certainly not...that. “Again, I’m sorry if I pried,” you apologized one last time. At the sound of your third ‘I’m sorry’, Deku looked over at you thoughtfully.

“You know, I used to apologize a lot too. Actually, my therapist was the one who got me to kick the bad habit. Speaking of which...” He reached into one of the red pouches on his costume belt and produced a single card between his index and middle finger, the lamination of it emitting a dim glare as he held it out to you. “I think you could really benefit from therapy. I’m not saying that to be rude or anything-!” His face flushed as he tried to explain himself; he didn’t want you to feel like he was dismissing you or that he wasn’t concerned with your issues. “I swear! I just...really think you could use another person in your corner right now. They’re super nice, I promise! I’ll even help you set up an appointment if you want.”

You shrunk a little at the idea of seeing a therapist, but took the card anyway. The writing on the little piece of plastic stared back at you menacingly, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your gut.

Dr. T/N T/L/N Deku Agency Specialist in Psychology Phone: [phone] Email (Mon-Fri): T/nT/l/[email protected] Office Hours: Mon-Sat, 9am-5pm

As if he could read your turbulent mind, Deku pulled you closer and rested his head against yours. “I know talking to someone else about your problems seems scary at first, but it really helps. If you keep everything bottled up, then those feelings and problems don’t have anywhere to go, and they’ll eat you up on the inside. Therapy gives you a safe way of letting those feelings out and sorting through problems in healthy ways. Of course it’s ultimately your choice, and everybody’s experience differs...but it did help me.”

You considered everything he said, including his offer to help schedule an appointment. If nothing else, you could really use another friend... You pocketed the card and decided to worry about it later; exhaustion was starting to settle in by now, and the air only seemed to get colder by the minute. It had to be past midnight by now.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. It means a lot to me, truly. I’ll...think about the therapist.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. But in the mean time, can I see your phone?” The question caught you off guard and forced you back to the reality of where you were, and what you’d planned to do earlier.

“Uh, well...” you started, “I left it in my apartment. I didn’t think I’d need it up here since... Anyway, I don’t have it on me.” You stared off to the side, not wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

“Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, I live in this apartment building.”

“Oh! Then, I’ll walk with you back to your apartment, since it’s getting kind of cold now. But first...” He whipped out his own phone, opening the contacts app and clicking on the ‘Create New Contact’ option. “What’s your phone number?”

“My phone number?” You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, so I can text you and call you. I’d like to be friends, if that’s okay?” He gave you a shy smile with a faint blush, and it was hard not to burst into tears again.

A friend. You had made a new friend. One that cared about you, that wanted to make sure you were okay, that would put in time and effort to talk to you and see you. You could hardly believe it.

“Really?”

“Of course! Sooo, can I have it, then? Oh, and I guess I’ll need your name at some point too, huh?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“It’s Y/N,” you stated happily.

You immediately gave your number to him, and then the two of you stood to go back inside. He helped you up and held the door open for you, and from there you took the stairs back to your apartment. You made small talk on the way back, and things finally started to feel normal to you for once. But as soon as you turned down the hall that led to your apartment door, you started to feel it; that familiar sinking feeling was creeping in, apathy and the sense of nothingness overwhelming you again. The night was finally coming to an end. You would go back to your apartment, and things would go back to normal, and Deku would probably forget that you even existed. He said he would text, but would he really? He was so busy with hero work, and you half expected things to go back to the way they would be. What if nothing changed? What if you went back to feeling numb? What if everything that happened tonight didn’t really matter? What would you do?

“Whoah, Y/N, slow down. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Huh? Shit! Had you said all that out loud?

You panicked as you stared at your door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face between his hands, tilting your head up to meet his concerned gaze. “Everything will be okay. But these kinds of problems don’t just disappear over night, they need time, and sometimes some outside help from others. I promise to keep in touch with you. I want to make sure you’re okay, and I’d like to get to know you better too. Maybe I can introduce you to my friends? They’re really great people, and they would make you feel right at home. But for now, let’s just focus on one thing, okay? Let’s get you settled back into your apartment for the night.” He ruffled the top of your head softly, and while others might have taken the gesture as offensive or belittling, you were just glad to have felt his warm touch.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, and you twisted the handle to the door, which you remembered you had left unlocked.

The small apartment greeted you with familiar darkness, that is, until Deku flipped your light switch and the few lamps you had lit up the living room. He let himself in and shut the door behind the two of you, earning a surprised look from you and giving you an apologetic look of his own. “I don’t mean to intrude...I just...” He looked like he was choking over his own words. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you be alone right now...but if you want me to leave, then-”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” you were quick to cut him off. You had wanted to invite him to stay, but you also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, it seemed like he beat you to the punch. “I don’t mind you staying. Besides, it’s late, and you look tired. The couch pulls out into a bed; let me get you some extra blankets.” 

You tried your best to be hospitable, even with him insisting that you didn’t need to and that he could just crash in the comfy clothes he wore under his costume. You didn’t have any extra clothes for him, but at least you could give him a pillow and a blanket. As you went to fetch those, you also grabbed your phone from your desk and dropped it next to him on the makeshift bed. He took the liberty of entering his phone number and his real name into your contacts before passing it back.

“No way, you like All Might too?” he asked as you handed him the themed blanket. “This is the same exact blanket I have at home!” A wide grin came over him as he cuddled into it.

His enthusiasm made you laugh a little as you tossed him the pillow. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You started to walk away to your bedroom, and as you were about to turn the lights out, he stopped you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Did you need something?”

He peeked his head over the edge of the couch. “I just realized I never gave you my name. You can call me Izuku, if you want. Since, we’re friends now, and all.”

“Izuku,” you echoed, “I’m really glad I met you.” And you meant it.

“Yeah, me too.” A moment of silence. “That I met you, I mean! I’m glad I met you too!”

You smiled and turned the lights out. “I’m gonna head to bed.” You hesitated a bit to ask him the question burning at the back of your mind, but your anxiety forced you to ask anyway, the fear of not knowing eating at you. “Will you still be here tomorrow morning?”

He answered you right away and gave you a reassuring look. “I’m off work tomorrow, and I don’t have any plans, so I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me to.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Izuku.” 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding for so long, and with that, you made your way to your bedroom and changed into your favorite pajamas. The card that Izuku had given you earlier dropped to the floor while you were changing, and you picked it up carefully before reading it over again. Maybe...it was worth a shot. You had a lot you were dealing with, and the idea that you could talk to someone about it without being judged or made fun of almost sounded too good to be true. Sure, you had Izuku now, but you knew realistically he wasn’t going to be around all the time. You were tired of feeling like you were always alone, tired of feeling everything and nothing all at once, tired in general. It was all so exhausting. And he had said the therapist was nice...

You crawled into bed with your phone and pulled the covers over yourself. The home screen lit up the room as you opened your contacts and scrolled, looking for one name in particular. You tapped on his name and the familiar conversation screen appeared, the little vertical line blinking at you repeatedly as you worked up the courage to type out your message. Finally, your fingers flew across the keys, and you hit send before you could think twice about it.

Y/N: I think I want to schedule an appointment with the therapist. Can you help? 1:34am

It didn’t take long for you to get a response.

Izuku: Of course. I can contact them tomorrow, if you’d like? 1:34am

Y/N: I’d like that a lot. Thank you, Izuku. 1:35am

Izuku: Are you alright? If you need anything, come get me. I won’t mind. 1:35am

Y/N: I really appreciate that. I’m doing a little better. I’ll let you know if I need something. 1:35am

Izuku: Promise? 1:35am

Y/N: I promise. 1:36am

#tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: suicide attempt #tw: bullying mention #izuku midoriya #izuku #midoriya #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #angst #fluff #comfort #izuku comfort #bnha izuku #midoriya x reader

[adhd-adept]

I have self diagnosed adhd and i was wondering if you could provide some advice regarding reading. I used to be able to just pick up a book and read when i was younger, but now that I'm older it's a bit difficult to just pick up a book and read for the sake of reading. I love reading, but i just can't seem to motivate myself to.

Any advice? I'd really love to get back into reading, but I'm trying to find a way to do it easier

Hello! I’m sorry this took me so long to answer, I’ve been mostly off Tumblr for a little while. I saw this some time ago at 3AM and thought “this deserves a more coherent response than I can give right now” and then forgot that this blog existed for several days.

That said, I absolutely have some advice for reading! I was a big reader as a kid, too, and I’ve recently had to re-discover reading after a long gap in any time spent sitting down with an honest-to-goodness book. There are a number of things you might consider!

DISTRACTIONS

First and foremost, recognize the reason it is difficult to read! For me, it is because reading isn’t the most interesting thing available. That doesn’t mean I don’t love reading! If I can manage to sit down and read a book, it is immensely satisfying - but it’s the satisfaction of the effort you put into something paying off. My favorite hobbies - drawing, writing, reading - are my favorite because of that sense of accomplishment that they give me. 

I love the feeling of holding a book and watching my bookmark move through the pages each time I set it down. However, it doesn’t give me the same instant gratification of reading wikipedia, or tvtropes, or scrolling Tumblr, or checking notifications on social media; even when I am unsatisfied, or even frustrated, with the internet, it can be very hard to put down. I know that people will tell you all the time “You need to put your phone down more!!” It gets old. But they have a point. What people don’t tell you is how to do that. 

For me, that tends to be about making it inconvenient for myself to get online, or do whatever is distracting me. This doesn’t necessarily mean making it completely unavailable. The distraction just needs to be less available than the task I want to do. I am the kind of person who gets online out of muscle memory, and then gets stuck there. Thus, many of my tricks rely on disrupting the muscle memory that lets you pick up distractions. I will put my laptop charger in another room, so that my screen time is limited to its battery life. I might tie a string around my laptop, or tape it closed, so when I go to open it I will be reminded “Oh yeah, I don’t want to do this right now.” I will occasionally rearrange the apps on my phone, so when I try to open Instagram and end up with the weather app instead, the thought of “wait, how did i get here” will snap me out of the thoughtless habits that led me to pick up my phone in the first place. I’ve even gone so far as to tape my phone to the ceiling. Whatever works.

If the weather permits, I might also walk a little ways down the block and find somewhere to sit and read. This can come with its own distractions, but it gets me away from my laptop, and I get a tiny bit more exercise and sunshine than I would have otherwise! This depends, of course, on whether you have transportation and whether you feel safe. But getting yourself out of the house can be a great way to get away from the things that would otherwise draw you away from reading. If you have a local cafe or library that permits you to sit and stay, those are also great options! I will bring my phone when I leave the house, but I might put it at the bottom of my bag, or put a bit of scotch tape over the power button, so that I have my phone in case of emergency but it’s just slightly inconvenient to get to without thinking about it.

It may not be the internet distracting you. But whatever the distraction is, it doesn’t need to be less compelling than reading. It just needs to be less readily available than your book is!

ENTHUSIASM

Another thing that prevents me from reading is that it often doesn’t have the same sense of urgency that other tasks might, whether that urgency is real or not. Give yourself a time limit! I may own books I haven’t read yet, but I will get to a book sooner if I have borrowed it from the library, because I know there is a deadline to return it! 

You can also get other people involved. If you have a friend who wants to read the same book, commit to a chapter or two a week and then call to discuss it. 

Or, if you have a friend who would be interested, and you are comfortable with your reading voice, you could read to someone! It might feel weird to offer, but you’d be surprised how many people really do enjoy being read to. If you both have time in your schedules, you could try to set up a regular call to get through a few chapters at a time. 

Generally, having a friend who likes the book is great for maintaining enthusiasm, even if they’re not reading it with you - I get to books faster if someone with similar taste says “This is one of my favorites! You would love it!” If you have a friend who has read the book you plan on reading, announce to them that you intend on reading it. Their enthusiasm might help you feel more compelled to read it, and there’s a good chance that if you don’t sit down and read it, they will remind you by asking “Have you read it yet? What do you think?” the next time you talk to them.

PREPARATION

Another great way to make reading easier is to set up a reading space beforehand. It’s one thing to pick up a book and say “I’ve been meaning to read this.” It’s another thing to put on some pajama pants, make a cup of tea, and curl a soft blanket around your shoulders before you settle down to read. For one thing, it’s just nice. But more importantly, it can function as a signal that tells your brain “it is Reading Time now. We are in the Reading Zone.”

Do you ever watch a TV show or listen to a podcast, and you let the theme song play on the first episode, and then skip it for the rest? Even if I’ve watched a show before, I will play the theme song on the first episode I watch that day. It’s the same principle - it serves as a transition, an intro that says “this is where I am now, and this is what I’m doing.” Give yourself an intro for reading! Have a certain spot that you like to sit when you read. Have a certain snack you eat beforehand.

I have all kinds of tasks with little “rituals” before them that help me focus on that task, or certain items that I interact with which I associate with it. I call them “declarations of intent,” and once I’ve made a declaration it’s easier to commit to it. Sometimes that means simply saying out loud, “I am going to do the laundry now.” Sometimes it means I wear a certain shirt if I’m planning to go for a walk that day, or drink from a certain mug at breakfast if I want to get some homework done. I have a specific hat that I put on when I want to write a certain character. Try to find something you can do to act as a cue that says “When I do this, then I will read a book.” Because of this, it can help to really lean into whatever the “aesthetic” of reading is, in your mind. Embrace a reading atmosphere!

It may also help to recognize that reading is something you can work your way up to! There is no shame in being out of practice with a hobby. I took my reading proficiency for granted for a long time because it was just a part of my life. It may help to think of reading as a skill! Start with something smaller and work your way up. Pick up a book of short stories or folktales before you tackle that six-book series you’ve heard good things about! Set achievable goals for yourself when you’re setting out. An early success can make a huge difference to morale, and it’s much better to start “too easy” and accomplish something than to jump in at the deep end and be frustrated by an early setback.

FORGIVENESS

On the topic of working your way up to things, I would like to say a word about mindset. It is easy to feel self-critical about things. Things that you think should come more easily to you. Things that you feel like you have no reason not to be able to do. One of the biggest things I’ve done for my ADHD is recognizing that there is always a reason why I behave a certain way. Accepting that allows me to actually address my struggles, rather than just feeling ashamed of them. I’ve had to accept that I won’t always do things that I set out to do the way I set out to do them.

I bring this up because not all of my advice here may work for you. In fact, some of it doesn’t work for me every time - a technique may work once, but I might fail to make a regular habit of it. I may make a regular habit of something, only to have it become less effective as the novelty of it, or my enthusiasm for it, wears off. I may eventually talk myself out of implementing an effective strategy because there is some part of it that I find unpleasant; or an intentional unpleasantness I once found motivating may eventually become intolerable.

That’s okay. I’m telling you now, it’s okay if that happens. It’s okay if the first method you try doesn’t work. Don’t set yourself up to feel frustrated. If you become frustrated, take a step back. If you borrow a library book and you still haven’t read it by the due date, just give it back. If you don’t actually enjoy the first book you pick up, put it down and try a different one. If you feel badly about not reading something your friend wants you to read, be honest and tell them you have a hard time sitting down, and that you don’t want to disappoint them if they keep asking, but that you will let them know once you have started it!

It can be easy to convince myself that feeling badly about something means it’s important to me, and that maybe if I feel bad about not doing something, it  motivate me to do it. There is a balance between making commitments, and not committing to anything that is just going to distress me. Sometimes there is a benefit to a sense of pressure, but I have to recognize when the pressure I create turns into frustration. That’s a fine line to walk! For all I speak of inconveniencing yourself, or holding yourself accountable, your strategies should ultimately feel satisfying, and show results fairly quickly! You may not see immediate results, but if it has been several days and your strategy isn’t working out, change tactics! And the moment you feel apologetic or ashamed about the thing you are trying to do, drop that strategy. Again, this can be easier said than done, but it is so worthwhile to learn how to allow yourself to “give up” on things that aren’t actually helping you, without feeling like you’re giving up entirely.

You want to get back into reading again because you want to enjoy reading again. If you set it up to feel like homework, or a chore, or an obligation, you may make it more difficult for yourself! Getting back into reading is about focusing on what you love about reading.

And hey, I’m always happy to help! I do only check Tumblr every couple weeks right now, but I’ll do what I can to be supportive. If you’ve tried these suggestions and they don’t work out, no worries! Everyone is different, and it’s no insult to me if things that work for me don’t work for you. But feel free to reach out again, let me know anything you have learned about how you function best in the meantime, and we can reevaluate your strategies!

I hope that helps! Happy reading!

#thanks for asking!! #nezjazz #let me know how this works out #a lot of the advice i have for reading is advice i have for Doing Tasks With ADHD in general to be honest #i use the same tricks i use to get myself to read sometimes to get myself to do things like wash dishes #it's about making yourself more interested in what you want yourself to do #and making it easier to do the important things relative to the ease of doing the less important things #i will just straight up delete apps off my phone if i spend too much time on them #most of the time i dont miss them #and tumblr i can access from my laptop it's just slightly more steps to actually log in and type in my password #(i ONLY use tumblr on incognito mode so it doesnt save my login and i have to actually enter my password every time) #(that way i know that if i actually take the steps to log on it's because i WANT to) #(because something about doing that is worth it to me) #(i did that today to come and answer this question lol) #(but that's also why it's taken me so long.) #(do let me know if you have any other questions! i'll be back eventually to help as best i can!) #(and i love feedback) #(if you discover something that works better for yourself let me know that too so i can share with everyone!)