#i should probably go to sleep anyway because my brain has already stopped working but its annoying the hell out of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sneezydarliing · 1 year

Text

My piece for the 2023 snalintines exchange for @selfindulgentsuffering ! Hope you enjoy, and a huge thanks to everyone in the server for putting this together.

Starve a cold, feed a fever

word count; 1,584

It begins the night before.

The second Alhaitham opens his eyes he's thrown forward, sent into a coughing fit so harsh that he knows smothering his mouth with the blanket won't do anything against alerting his probably still-awake roomate. By the time he’s able to catch his breath, His door is already being opened, and he’s greeted with Kaveh rushing towards him, a worried expression on his face.

“Love? You okay?” His roomate holds out a cup of water, and as Alhaitham takes it silently he can’t help but recognize the sweater hanging loosely off of the other’s frame. He eyes it, then returns his gaze to Kaveh, who huffs. “It was all I could find, okay? Jeez, come in here all worried and all you can do is be grumpy.” He walks out, continuing to mumble to himself about “being ungrateful” and how he’ll never come check on him again even though they both know better.

The silence is welcomed. Alhaitham can feel an uncomfortable pressure beginning to build in his skull, and sweat prickles the back of his neck even though he feels fine temperature-wise. But surely it’s nothing. Sumeru’s grand scribe does not get sick. He returns to sleep with this thought in mind, brushing off what is easily a half hour of tossing and turning, occasionally muffling more coughs into his blankets.

It gets worse in the morning. This discomfort has switched to a painful throbbing, and every move sends his head spinning. He essentially stumbles into the main room, where his roommate is currently making himself breakfast, humming idly along to some song that must have been on the radio. He was still wearing his shirt. The sound of Alhaitham’s fumbling brings him back to earth, and he looks up with an irritated expression, squabble not forgotten.

“You look great this morning.” His tone is heavy with sarcasm, and Al Haitham scowls. “And you probably slept better than me. Your tossing and turning kept me up-” “hHI-Chht!” Kaveh freezes, interrupted from his angry rambling. “Archons bless you.” The saying is an unconscious habit, coming out of his mouth before he can even think of it. As Al-haithan sniffles wetly, he stops and looks at him a little closer.

“Are you sick?” The frown on Alhaitham’s face deepens. He storms to the coffee table, grabbing his set of keys, and quickly slips on his shoes. He’s almost out the door before Kaveh gets an actual response in the form of a gravely “No.” He gets the ingredients for soup out anyway, huffing to himself.

As Alhaitham walks to the Akademiya, part of him regrets leaving at all. Every noise sends a jolt of pain through his head, his throat has begun to feel like gravel, and the first sneeze seemed to have set off some sort of chain reaction, because now he can't go five minutes without another one. There is no other way to put it, he was miserable.

It must have shown. Younger students looked at him with mingled concern and curiosity, and he heard whispers about how people should "try to leave him alone today." By the time he got to his office, he was exhausted.

Work ticks by at an excruciatingly slow rate, yet he can barely get anything done. It takes easily 5 times of reading anything for it to cut through the fogginess of his brain, and he finds himself spending more time with his head against the desk to help soothe his headache than doing anything else. Every conversation he tries to have ends in a coughing fit, and at some point people stop coming in at all. The rumor of the Grand Scribe's illness must have spread.

Eventually, he decides to go into the library. Nothing will get done regardless, so he might as well pass the time somehow. Browsing the shelfs, searching for one of the few titles he had yet to read, left him putting how awful he felt to the back of his mind for a moment, able to focus on the moment, at least until the sneezing returned.

Perhaps it was the dust. Many of the books had lived more than double his lifetime, and the careful tending of them could only do so much. Either way, it was exhausting. He flips a page. "hI’tsCHht-uh! nGt!." Wipes the irritated tears from his eyes, tries to continue, but the cycle seems persistent on repeating.

"hiDt-CHt!" a stranger offers a blessing. Others glare. He still can't find himself absorbing anything on the page, and it's too hot in the room even though everyone else in there is bundled up. He swallows, trying not to wince at the pain. 6 more hours until he can leave.

At some point, he returns to his office in a haze. The lack of staring eyes brings him some comfort, but he's reminded more of the work that needs to be done. The papers pile up on his desk, and it seems he can barely go any time without somebody bringing in more. Until somebody hesitates.

They avert their eyes, fidgeting nervously. Alhaitham resists the urge to tell them to spit it out so he can go back to resting his head on the table. Finally, they speak. "Are you feeling alright, sir?" He bites back a snappy response.

"I'm fine." He croaks out, voice sounding much worse than he remembers. The sudden intake of air sends him muffling coughs into his sleeve as the younger student stands awkwardly, clearly unconvinced.

"Uhm, maybe it'd be best to head home?" Their tone is sheepish and well meaning, but Alhaitham still wants to point out the mounds of work that needs to get done. He resorts to glaring. The student doesn't budge. "Who sent you here?" He asks, running his hands down his face, somehow even more exhausted.

"Kaveh did. He said not to leave until you go home, sir." He sighs deeper than he knew he was able to. He silently weighs his options. No work will get done either way at this rate, and returning home does sound nice. Maybe he'll let Kaveh win. Just this once.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'll leave." The student smiles, clearly satisfied. "I hope you feel better soon, sir." The words are lost to Alhaitham, though, as he suddenly finds himself gasping, head tilted.

"nGt! hiDt-SHhih! "Archons bless you!" He can't help but groan a little as he stands, the world spinning around him, and he's left gripping the table for support. The walk home continues in the same fashion, stumbling around at a snail's pace until he's unlocking the door, met with the back of his roommate's head in the kitchen.

"tSCHh’uh!" He sighs, pawing at his nose. Kaveh jumps slightly, apparently startled out of some focus. "You're home early." He comments as he turns to face him, revealing a cutting board strewn with vegetables. Bastard, Alhaitham thinks. But he decides to play along.

"I got sent home." He explains half heartedly, flopping onto the couch. "Well, no wonder. You look awful." Alhaitham can't muster up anything to say in retort, so he just brings up a hand to block the light from his eyes. He can almost feel Kaveh's disapproving look.

"Go rest in your room. I'll bring you some medicine." Alhaitham doesn’t bother to respond. His nose itches. "What hurts? I can call the doctor over to check you out." He shakes his head. Falling asleep here sounds pleasant enough, but Kaveh will surely shoo him out. "C'mon, go to your own room. It'll be more comfortable.. I can't drag you myself."

"hI’tsCHhi!" Kaveh sighs. "Archons bless you. Need a tissue?" He shakes his head, sniffling. He can hear his roomate huff in exasperation as he approaches, and is suddenly hauled to his feet. He opens his mouth to protest, but he freezes at the hand on his forehead. He finds himself lost in Kaveh's expression, the way his frown deepens into an almost-pout, like it does when he's stuck on work.

"You have a fever." Alhaitham hums again. He's led by his arm to his own bedroom, barely noticing as Kaveh removes his ear pieces, too focused on the way he hums, the way he runs a hand through his hair as he searches for something- pajamas, probably. Alhaitham sneezes again, and Kaveh blesses him again. Eventually, he seems to find what he's looking for, handing Al Haitham clothes. He just takes them, not even having the energy to change.

Kaveh makes a noise of agitation, but Alhaitham feels as he carefully undresses him. "It's no wonder you're ill, sleeping in these thin clothes all the time." He can't help but feel a bit bad, so he sloppily gets to work on his pants, putting the new clothes on himself. He looks up once he's done, and Kaveh gives him a satisfied look that quickly switches to sternness.

"I'm gonna go buy some medicine, so don't you dare move." He nods, punctuated by a quiet sniffle. He hardly notices when his roomate leaves, leaning his head against the cold wall for comfort. And, once Kaveh returns, it is to that very sight, Alhaitham snoring quietly, mouth slightly agape. He resists the urge to laugh as he sets the bottle of medicine on the desk by the bed, moving his bangs to give him a gentle kiss. "Feel better, darling." He says as he closes the door, despite knowing Alhaitham won't hear it. He can't bring himself to mind.

#snz stuff #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #sneeze #sneeze stuff #snz #gen/shin #ali writes #sneezing #have this in queue which ive never done before i really hope it works

60 notes · View notes

lavenoon · 1 year

Note

...then weirdly silly when they learn they've both just been in closer contact with their estranged brother. (And, uh, wait a second... Some of those stories they share are weirdly similar...)

All i can think about is Robin while talking to Dusk asks how their brother "Eclipse" is doing or asking Sun how "Horizon" is doing, mixing up the names to either of them but neither Dusk or Sun notice. They just happily talk about their brother and how he's doing.

Robin now sitting there going "well shit these three are related to each other" still somehow not realizing that Sun and Dusk are the same body and is just thinking it's one confusing family.

That would be such a dumb reveal because it's like "Oh I know your brother Sun! He's my neighbor. Why don't you visit him?" and Dusk is just a deer in headlights trying to process everything.

Have a nice day/night dear, Take Care!

: )

God okay the sheer hilarity re: this post

So Y/N does their little test, goes "Hm alright weird coincidence that I work with one and one lives with me, but I guess it's fine? Either I'm good at my job or they don't talk much either since they don't know I know the other. Oh well! (:" and then continues on their merry way

So during a mission, when Dusk shares another story...

"So then we - ugh, actually... It's been funny for a while I but I guess I should mention there's also -"

"Oh don't worry, I know about your other brother. He rents from me."

Robin is so entirely nonchalant by that point, having heard so much private information over the past few weeks that they don't mind sharing this much either, and Dusk bluescreens.

So not only does Robin know about Sun, but they also casually revealed their identity, and somehow still don't know about Dawn?

Takes a moment, but then also figures, that, well... Sun mentioned talking to the landlord more often and a lot about Eclipse, and given the situation, it probably was only a matter of time anyway. This might as well happen style.

"... Half the rent is coming from me."

Now it's on Robin to freeze.

"What?"

"Sun and I are one animatronic. Little bird, did you ever see me during the day? Or him during the night?"

Robin buffers for a moment, thinking. Comes up blank.

Hits him with the flat of their hand in indignation.

"Are you kidding me? You two have some sort of - of - are you literally Batman??? Wait. Wait. I never saw you at home either??"

"We live with you and can't drive, do we look like Batman to you? Apparently, the landlord missed me being mentioned due to being severely sleep deprived."

He spares a second to send them a withering (mock) glare.

"So I was supposed to introduce myself, but they always worked nights, and then it became more and more awkward. And it was just you, this entire time."

"Don't you fucking glare at me, Moon man. You were the one dragging out that mission so I couldn't catch any sleep before Sun came by!"

"I guess I can finally say this, please stop using my real name as a tease one day the wrong person is gonna hear and think we told each other from the start."

"As opposed to now being better? Wait." (Robin also is a little shit) "Your name is Moon man?"

"Try that again but with brain cells at work."

"This is gonna be great. Wait."

They think further, using those brain cells.

"What. What does Sun do for work. If you're the same animatronic."

Dusk now metaphorically sweats, because despite the rest of the reveal going over smoothly, this bit was intentional fuckery from his side and he has Regrets

"So, uh, what I originally intended to tell you earlier. I thought it'd be funny for you to find out on your own, but that kinda... Got away from me."

"I already hate everything about this."

"He does undercover missions as Dawn. That's how I get my intel."

Robin closes their eyes, taking a deep breath and mentally counting to ten.

It doesn't help.

"Get down here so I can strangle you!"

"Dove, I'd love to see you try, but can I also just process a little longer? Once I've accepted that Eclipse infected us with the need to reveal confidential information I'm all yours."

They take some time, maybe chilling on a roof somewhere, sitting down at some point and Robin kicks at his leg out of spite before sitting back and taking off their mask.

He's looking, now.

Neither of them are scared, because they also grew closer thanks to how much Dusk shared. They are friends, not just rivals, and no matter what they have that.

Sun gets a very casual reveal too - Moon simply tells him about last night's conversation during the next switch, Y/N already passed out in bed, so it's not a 2 vs 1 situation. Some teasing for sure, but also just amused reminiscing once Sun's shock wears off, and then a seamless transition into "We all know, and we're okay" <3

#answer let luce #agent viper asks #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #I guess?? fgdhsj #this got to me yesterday minutes before i went to bed and i immediately lost it #casual banter reveals my beloved #funny haha does win sometimes #this is “just” 700 words but. I want to write on the drabble today so I didn't expand on how Sun finds out and later reacts more I'm sorry #it's all chill tho basically like after the initial shock it's just “ah okay makes sense” and then they all carry on #just that sun gets flirtier #and moon also #and y/n probably too #fucking idiots (affectionate)#edit: i promise imma get used to adding read mores oh my god

34 notes · View notes

aramatientediada · 1 year

Text

So, I started to use antidepressants

Since depression is the main topic in this site I decided to share my experience here.

My psychologist said to me see a psychiatrist or general physician for medicine prescription. In the public health system we have to talk with the general doc to get a specialist anyway.

I asked for psychiatrist and the doc offered an agreement, he'd give me a medicine and if it don't work in 15 days then he'll refer me to the psychiatrist.

He didn't give any detail about the medicine, besides to take it once a day.

I meet with the psychologist that day. She reacted to the fact that the doc prescribed a whole pill instead half and she make it very clear I have to take it in the morning and only in the morning because it gives me "disposition".

I took it 6 am and then read leaflet (I know I know but I tent to trust the doctors). So, NOBODY WAS GOING TO TELL ME I CAN'T DRIVE OR OPERATE HEAVY MACHINES WHILE USING THAT? I mean, I don't drive, but I have license so... I might.(!)(?)

Don't you hate it when you take a medicine for a thing and the side effects include that thing? I had this experience with others medicines before, but at least with the allergy one it made sense.

Somewhere between 8 and 10 am I started to VERY SLEEPY. Where was my desired disposition? I also felt other foreseen symptoms, like much mental blurriness and a bit of nausea in certain moments.

High, I was high but without the "good part" of feeling high we get with alcohol. Only the bad part.

This all got some better in the evening, but before the nigh I was very sleepy again. Probably something to do with I woke up before 4am?

Now is the next day. I hold my sleepiness and only went to bed around 9 or 10 pm but wake up by myself before 6. Which now that I look at it was a very good sleep time.

I wake up with residual sleep, but with a bit of "disposition" . Still a bit of that "bad high" feeling and The Confusion™.

Disobeying medical orders I took only half pill today, now lets see how the day goes.

At this moment you must be asking "But what about the intended effect? What about what really matters? Does it work".

Yes... and maybe.

I don't know how far it's actually working or is the placebo effect. I was actually feeling a lil better since my psych said to me ask for medicine. And a lot better having the prescription in hands. It's what Lori Gottlieb mentioned in "Maybe You Should Talk to Someone", the hope for a "cure" that makes us fell better for itself. (Hope actually has great medicinal power according science)

I can say that while physically I'm feeling a lil trash, emotionally I'm... perfectly normal!

Which is a humongous upgrade!

Not more that psychological enormous pain, that despair, that dread of living. Even though all the things in my life that make me fell worthless, in danger, without future, hopeless, powerless are still there!

Now those thing are just bothersome things that exist, but no more thing that make me want to cease exist every time I think about 'em.

I feel as wanting to unalive yourself is not a feeling, neither a desire or any natural part of the brain but a malfunction! Ok ok, we know the depression itself is already a malfunction, but I'm talking about the will to end yourself.

I'm not feeling a super love for live, that sweet feeling of wanting to live, but neither to stop living. And I don't feel that only the feelings and rationalization that give me suicidal intention were vanished, because they weren't (completely), but the intention itself is unable to exist.

Bad though are just bad toughs and nothing else, not triggers.

Is this how normal people feel? Is this how the people who never want to end themselves feel even when everything is terrible in their lives? Is this how they can fight back?

What a delicious feeling, I wish I could have it without the sleepy and nausea.

#antidepressants #depression #medicine #experience #sertraline #suicidal

15 notes · View notes

superbattrash · 2 years

Text

What Happens on Nereid part2

Hi, hello. Remember how @fickle-tiction ruined my entire brain with good ideas and it became like a giant mega-trope-fic? Yeah, here’s part 2

You can find part 1 here

The door has barely closed behind them before Bruce turns to Clark.

“Are you completely insane?” he says as he rips the cowl off his face. He knows his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are red, his hair is probably a mess too (his looks aren’t important, Clark isn’t looking at him like that anyway), but he’s already scanned the cabin as much as he can with his limited equipment. There’s no reason for the aliens to expose his identity, but at this point he’s too worked up to care either way. If they’ve got listening devices there’s nothing he can do about that now.

“What?” Clark replies, taking a step back. There’s no way he’s actually afraid of Bruce but the gesture is enough for Bruce to start pacing the room instead of crowding Clark up against the door. He’s not actually interested in scaring Clark, he’s just frustrated.

“What if they were against premarital sex?” Bruce hisses. He tries to reel his anger back in, but he hasn’t slept in days and he’s both annoyed and exhausted. Most of it is because of Clark.

“Sex?” Clark echoes and it doesn’t do anything to soothe Bruce’s anger.

“We’re locked alone in a room together, you moron,” he says harshly. “It’s to be expected.”

“Well, yes, but they weren’t against it, were they?” Clark fires back and he’s crossing his arms over his chest now. The frown is uncharacteristic on his handsome face.

“That’s not the point!” Bruce somehow manages to both shout and whisper at the same time. It’s very impressive skill he’s learned from Alfred. Clark at least looks slightly intimidated before his face falls back into unhappy-with-Bruce-territory. “You need to think before you speak.”

“I got us out of it, didn’t I?” Clark persists.

“You-” Bruce stops himself and sighs. It isn’t helping anyone that he’s getting worked up. “You did, yes, but you do realize we’re now stuck in a cabin with aliens watching our every move.”

“Better than them trying to breed you, don’t you think?”

Bruce shudders at the thought. He couldn’t think of anything he’d like any less even if you put a gun to his head. He runs a hand through his hair and sits heavily down on the bed. At least it’s soft.

“Sorry,” Clark says quietly. He drops his arms back at his sides. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s fine, you’re right,” Bruce says as he waves a hand in the air. No need to argue with each other now. They need to figure out what they’re going to do. Bruce is having a hard time focusing on anything other than breathing – should he be worried that the air is contaminated? He’s pretty sure he heard Genevivre say it was safe for humans to breathe their air, but can he really trust anything they say?

“Why are you so wound up?” Clark says, not unkindly. He sounds genuinely curious, but it doesn’t help Bruce relax. His brain is not up for the challenge of figuring out what Clark means at this point. “We got through the day unharmed.”

“Unharmed? We’re stranded on an alien planet, Clark.” The name slips over his lips before he can think about it. He should apologize but Clark doesn’t even seem to notice. He just moves on in the conversation. Bruce envies his ability to do so.

“But we’re okay,” Clark says as he finally moves from besides the door. He still moves around Bruce like he’s a scared animal Clark has to be careful with. He’s not completely wrong. “And we’ll figure out how to get home soon enough.”

“Ever the optimist,” Bruce says dryly.

“Someone has to be when all you see are the worst-case scenarios,” Clark huffs. “Would it kill you to relax a little?”

There is a moment of silence and then Bruce sighs. He rubs a hand over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He really needs to sleep soon. The usual worked-too-long headache is sneaking in, and he can’t think when it settles in his head.

“Do you know how exhausting it is to have to think through seven possible outcomes before answering a simple question?” comes out of Bruce’s mouth without his permission. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. It was the first out of the usual seven replies he thinks of before actually opening his mouth. God, he needs to find his brain-to-mouth filter.

“Is that why it takes you so long to respond to questions today?” And it’s very clear on Clark’s face that he wants to take back his words the second he says them.

Bruce can’t really blame him. He feels frozen to the floor himself. Clark wasn’t supposed to notice his lack of responses. He’s usually more prepared than this. It must show on his face because Clark’s eyes are doing the I’m-sorry-I’m-even-here puppy dog thing that they always do when he’s feeling guilty over something silly.

“I need to think through my replies because I need to think through your questions. If you were more direct, I would not have this… issue.” He never thought he’d tell Superman to be more direct, but here he is. He really needs to stop talking.

“I’m not asking any hard questions here though, Bruce.” And there goes the name-thing entirely. Bruce barely notices, which he’ll beat himself up for later. Tomorrow maybe. He can’t really be bothered right now. And he did start by calling Clark’s name, so it’s not like he can blame anyone but himself.

“Clark, I have not slept in 52 hours,” he says and rubs at his eyes in a gesture he’d usually find too weak-minded to show anyone but his family. “My cognitive comprehension is not working at full capacity.”

There’s a long stretch of silence that Bruce tries not to take too personally. He didn’t expect Clark to disagree, but it still doesn’t feel good to have it confirmed. He’s a mess and he knows it. Alfred would have his head if he knew he was still awake. The thought of Alfred has Bruce’s head throb, and he tries to even out his breathing. He’s not close to panicking – not yet – but insomnia makes even the strongest of men waver.

Clark doesn’t know what to say. Bruce may have been a little slower with the longer responses today but otherwise Clark hasn’t noticed anything off about him. He’s pretty sure Bruce wouldn’t like that answer though. He doesn’t want to put his foot any further into his own mouth. It’s been the theme of the day for him, and he gets why Bruce may be a little frustrated with him. Intentions aside Clark have not had the best of luck communicating with anyone today. He looks at Bruce, sitting on the bed and sighing more than a man his age should ever have to sigh.

This is how Bruce acts when he’s exhausted? Clark would’ve been too irritated to function and mumbling through his sentences. At least that’s what he imagines he’d be like – as long as there’s a yellow sun in the sky (and Nereid’s three are all very much yellow, he noticed), he’s more or less always well rested.

Clark lets out what he hopes Bruce will take as what it is – a sympathetic sound. He doesn’t have any proper words to tell Bruce that he understands, because he doesn’t. The only times he’s been exhausted physically have been after missions involving Kryptonite, and he knows that’s not what Bruce is experiencing. He’s tired and now he’s stuck on a strange planet, where he can’t rest. All because Clark had to get him involved in this mess. He doesn’t exactly regret wanting a peaceful solution, but he doesn’t like that Bruce was dragged into this. Especially not when he’s this worn out.

Bruce rubs his eyes and then shakes his hands out. He looks restless and completely exhausted at the same time. He keeps rubbing his hands and Clark wonders if he’s gotten something on them earlier. Bruce notices his looks and stops fidgeting.

“I’m not a big fan of touch,” he says after a while. It’s an explanation of sorts, Clark can tell, but it takes him a second longer than it should to realize what Bruce is getting at.

Touch. Like holding hands.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” Clark says quickly. He’s been clinging to Bruce’s hand all evening – day? It’s hard to tell with the three suns barely moving in the sky – and he’s not once wondered if Bruce found it uncomfortable. He knows Bruce isn’t homophobic in any way, knows that he’s a good man, so he’s not been worried about Bruce’s reaction, but he hadn’t ever considered that he wouldn’t be comfortable with Clark touching him so intimately for other reasons. It might have just been handholding but that’s still a lot more than they’re used to doing.

“Don’t apologize, you were just doing your job,” Bruce says, clearly tired but trying to hide it.

Job, right.

Now is not the time to be focusing on how much he’d enjoyed feeling Bruce’s hand in his, glove or no glove, or how sitting close to his body made Clark feel safer and more confident. Although to be fair Clark isn’t sure there ever is a right time to be thinking about those things. This is Batman, after all. Bruce would probably lock him in a kryptonite filled room if he dared voice any of this out loud.

Lucky for Clark it seems like Bruce is too tired to notice that he hasn’t responded at all. Or maybe he’s just happy to finally have a little bit of silence. He wants to respect that, he really does, but he also wants to know if Bruce already has a plan in the making or if they’re going to figure it out when Bruce has rested.

It takes Clark all of seven minutes to ruin the calm atmosphere.

“Do you want to get some rest?” he asks. He’s not trying to be condescending in any way, but Bruce is literally falling over from exhaustion. Clark is pretty sure the only thing keeping his head up is pure spite.

“No,” Bruce says, almost instantly. He’s being stubborn.

“Are you sure?” Clark pushes. It would do them both some good if Bruce’s brain is as sharp as it can get. “I’ll stay awake and keep watch if that would make you feel better.”

“Do you not understand the word ‘no’?” Bruce snaps. He’s been pulling at his hair for the past minute and looks absolutely insane at this point. It doesn’t excuse his bad behavior.

“Do you have to be so blunt?” Clark says with a frown. It’s the nicest way he knows to say ‘rude’ without actually using that particular word. His Ma taught him to be careful with his words but it’s not easy when Bruce is giving him this much attitude. He was just trying to be polite.

“Is that a genuine question?” Bruce asks and he’s glaring properly at Clark now. At least he doesn’t have to keep guessing now that the cowl in discarded on the bed.

“I guess not,” Clark says honestly. He knows how rude Bruce can be, he doesn’t know why he even bothered asking. It seemed like the normal-human thing to do, but then of course, Bruce has never been very normal-human like.

“Don’t ask then,” Bruce says with an annoyed huff. “I just explained how irritating it is when you do that.”

How, maybe, but not why. Which is why Clark tried opening up a conversation and got his metaphorical fingertips snapped at as if he was trying to pet a rapid dog. Maybe it would be best to just wait for Bruce to fall over on the bed on his own, but that thought doesn’t sit well with Clark.

“You’re really not easy to figure out,” he says with a sigh.

“Neither are you,” Bruce counters. He really can’t just let a conversation die without having the last word, can he?

“Me?” Clark frowns when Bruce’s words register in his mind. “I’m an open book.” Okay, he might be exaggerating but compared to Bruce – compared to Batman? He’s like an entire library open for reading.

“A book in Kryptonian, maybe,” Bruce mutters as he tilts his head into his hands. He drags them into his hair and Clark notices how long it’s gotten. He doesn’t see Bruce without the cowl on that often – even in the safety of his own cave, he likes to keep it on when Clark is there – and when he does, it’s usually when Bruce is out and about, flashing his big grin and bigger cars. It’s not often he gets to see Bruce’s hair like this. Loose and without product.

It looks soft.

Clark folds his arms over his chest to stop himself from doing something stupid. Like reach out to pet Bruce’s head. He focuses back on Bruce’s words and his frown deepens.

“What? Is that some kind of alien joke?”

“I wasn’t joking,” Bruce says, his words smushed against the palms of his hands.

“It sounded like a joke,” Clark retorts, then backtracks a little. “Well. As joking as you’ve ever sounded, I suppose.”

“I was being serious,” Bruce insists and moves his hands away from his face, as if locking their eyes together will make Clark believe him. It works, because of course it does. Bruce looks too beat to try to make a joke, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s talking to Clark like he’s an idiot.

“Aren’t you always?” Clark asks with a roll of his eyes.

“Is that another rhetorical question?” Bruce counters and he’s back to glaring. It’s not nearly as intimidating as he thinks, what with his eyes being red and the dark shadows under them making him look like he’s tried to remove dark eyeliner by rubbing it away.

“You think?”

“Don’t answer me with a question,” Bruce demands.

“Why not? Does it bother you?” Clark is aware he sounds rude. He may be more tired than he realizes, but Bruce doesn’t have to keep pushing the subject. Clark feels like his skin is starting to itch and Bruce being… well, Bruce, isn’t helping.

“Yes,” is all Bruce says.

“Oh.” All fight leaves Clark’s body at that one word. He was sure Bruce was gearing up for a fight, but he just seems resigned. A beat of silence and then Clark can’t help but ask: “Why?”

“Because it’s hard enough deciphering your responses without having to figure out if you’re joking or being sarcastic,” Bruce says, and it’s only now that Clark realizes this is the longest time he’s heard Bruce speak outside of the League. Even when he’s out at galas he doesn’t do long sentences, he keeps mostly to jokes and flirtatious comments. When they’re together in the cave it’s usually mission related, and Bruce doesn’t talk about himself when there’s work to do. Bruce doesn’t talk about himself much, period.

“You never seem to have any troubles figuring out what I mean.” It’s amazing, really. Most of the time Bruce knows what Clark means before he even does himself.

“Yeah, well, it’s not as easy as it looks when you’re on the spectrum,” Bruce says.

“You’re-” Clark doesn’t get more than that out before Bruce continues talking.

“And it doesn’t get any easier in stressful situations.” Clark knows better than to interrupt when Bruce finally opens up about something, so he just waits in silence for another second. “So no more rhetorical questions, alright?” Bruce finally ends. He sounds even more exhausted than before, and Clark feels instantly guilty. He shouldn’t have said anything, and he shouldn’t have let his own frustration out on Bruce.

“Alright,” he says quietly.

Clark is uncomfortable, there’s no other way to say it. Bruce isn’t sure what ticked him off, whether it was the autism diagnosis thrown in his face or just Bruce’s general Bruce-ness, but Clark is clearly uncomfortable. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, telling Clark about his diagnosis in the middle of an argument. He hadn’t meant to tell him at all, he hadn’t meant to tell anyone. Those who knew already were the ones who were supposed to know. He really should work on his stamina – at least the part that made his head clear, because if Bruce didn’t know any better, he’d say he’s been drugged. It’s obviously just the lack of sleep but he’s not usually this loose lipped, even after a few days without sleep.

Clark is pacing. Bruce wants him to stop, but he doesn’t think he has the right to tell anyone how to act, especially when he just snapped at them for doing nothing more than ask a few questions.

“The suns are going down,” Clark says, suddenly. Well, it might not be as sudden as Bruce thinks, but he nearly flinches when Clark’s voice penetrates the silence. Nereid is very quiet.

Bruce hadn’t even noticed he’s standing by the small window in the cabin. Now that he mentions it though, the room has become much darker than when they first arrived. Well, at least they should be able to get some sleep now that it’s proper nighttime. If Bruce can any sort of inner calmness – enough to at least close his eyes for an hour. They’re starting to hurt.

“I know you said-” Clark starts, and Bruce holds up a hand to stop him. He knows what Clark’s going to say and for once he doesn’t want to argue.

“Let’s try to get some rest,” he says, hoping Clark hears the sort-of-apology underneath the words. He’s not in the mood for groveling but he does realize he’s been rather… short with Clark. He knows Clark will forget it come morning – or the Nereid equivalent of it – but that doesn’t make him feel any better. Just because Clark is a forgiving man doesn’t mean Bruce shouldn’t apologize when he’s been rude. Alfred taught him better. A direct apology doesn’t come easily over his lips, so he goes with the second option and hopes for the best.

“Okay,” Clark says, and his smile is bright enough to light up the entire room. Bruce tries not to squint. He’s forgiven then judging by the happy humming Clark is letting out when he starts undressing.

He starts undressing.

Bruce averts his eyes. It’s not polite to stare. He’s not really known for being polite, but he doesn’t want Clark to think he’s ogling him. He also doesn’t want Clark to think he’s uncomfortable with nudity. He isn’t. He’s just- it’s different when it’s Clark. He looks like he’s carved out of the finest marble, for God’s sake, and Bruce hasn’t been on a date since Jason- He hasn’t been in the mood, and he does not want this particular day to be when he finally gets in the mood. At least not in front of Clark. Because of Clark.

He's far too old to pop an accidental boner just because someone hot is standing in front of him – at least he hopes so; it hasn’t happened since he was in his teens. He has immense control over his own body, but even Batman has weaknesses. Apparently, Clark peeling his very tight Superman uniform off is one of them.

He wants to clear his throat, but it might draw Clark’s attention towards him so instead Bruce stands up and starts undressing as well. The Kevlar is easy enough to remove, he’s had years of practice, but his fingers are trembling. His entire body is in overdrive and needs to reboot his brain. If he’d had anything to eat, he would seriously reconsider the whole poisoning thing, but he hasn’t had a sip or bite of anything.

Maybe he’s simply in need of nutrients. He’ll have to try to find something tomorrow, because he might have a granola bar in his utility belt, but he’s pretty sure he can’t live off that and the few lollipops he keeps in there. He also would rather not be seen eating those in public. He’s got a sweet tooth, but Clark doesn’t need to know that.

Bruce considers keeping his under armor on, but the cabin is small and while the bed is a decent size, he’s going to be lying very close to Clark, who acts as a human (well, almost human) furnace on the best of days. He shrugs both the top and bottoms off and puts them neatly besides the bed. He doesn’t look at Clark before getting underneath the covers. At least they have sheets here as well, although Bruce suspects this cabin might’ve been designed with humans in mind. How do they know so much about humans? He’ll need to investigate.

The thought is knocked from his mind when Clark stands in front of him in nothing but his underwear. His very tight underwear. Bruce should’ve known; there’s no way Clark would be able to wear loose boxers underneath his uniform without it showing.

“You’re not even going to ask if I prefer the left side, huh?” Clark asks but despite the hands on his hips, he’s smiling.

“Do you prefer the left side?” Bruce asks as he raises his eyebrows. He knows Clark doesn’t. Clark prefers the right side; the only exception is when the left side of the bed is closest to the nearest window or the balcony doors – like in Bruce’s bedroom – and that’s only if he’s been hurt or otherwise drained of his powers recently.

“No,” Clark concedes with a laugh as he shuffles over to the right side of the bed. “It would’ve been nice of you to ask though.”

“I’m not going to ask a question I already know the answer to,” Bruce says with an eyeroll.

“You know too much,” Clark argues as he wiggles under the sheets. He’s getting comfortable and it’s reminding Bruce of how a kid gets ready to sleep.

Bruce himself is on his back, staring at the ceiling. He can’t sleep on his back, but he doesn’t plan on falling asleep until Clark is already snoring beside him. He’s not a big fan of falling asleep before others, even if he does trust them with his life. He trusts Clark with more than that, but not enough to just snuggle up on his side and close his eyes. It’s a Batman thing, he thinks, although Alfred would probably just say it’s a Bruce thing.

Eventually though, he has to lie on his side if he wants to get any rest. Alfred often teases him with the fact that he still sleeps like he did when he was a kid. Curled up on his side, hugging a pillow or blanket to his chest.

Bruce glances at Clark, whose eyes are closed, but he’s not asleep yet. Oh well, it won’t hurt to at least get a little more comfortable. He’s got amazing stamina, even compared to Superman, he’ll be fine waiting however long it takes for him to fall asleep. Bruce turns on his side, facing away from Clark, shuffling a little closer to the edge of the bed.

“I don’t bite, you know?” Clark comments and Bruce can hear the smile in his voice.

“I prefer my space,” Bruce counters and then proceeds to tell Clark exactly how much space he would like. Clark is chuckling by the time he’s done. The sleep deprivation really has loosened his tongue.

“Alright, alright,” Clark eventually says. “No touching, got it.”

Bruce grunts but doesn’t reply any further. He pulls his knees up a little, not full-on fetal position – Clark doesn’t need to see that – but more comfortable than before. He sighs a little and against his will, his eyes close.

He’s not asleep yet when Clark speaks again a few moments later.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Bruce answers and turns his head to look at Clark. Why wouldn’t he be?

“You’re, uh,” Clark stammers awkwardly. “Moving. A lot.”

Only then does Bruce realize that his foot has been bouncing up and down like it usually does when he’s stressed out and needs to fall asleep. He doesn’t know how to explain it, because he’s never had to before. Being autistic is not something he talks about much.

Being diagnosed late – no, that’s not exactly true. He was diagnosed earlier in life. Alfred told him but he wasn’t listening back then. Besides, nothing could be done about autism. You couldn’t take a pill and suddenly think like other people. So Bruce did what he does best, he focused his thoughts on what he could control. The mission.

He wasn’t diagnosed late; he was just late to accepting it as a part of himself. Typical, really, that the reason he’s as good as he is at what he does, stems from his brain being different from the typical human. Maybe Clark is right when he sees Bruce as “other”, after all, although neurodivergence can’t really be compared to being a metahuman. It doesn’t change the fact that Bruce has never had to explain himself to anyone – has never wanted to either, not the way he does with Clark.

So when it comes to explaining why he does things the way he does- well. He’s not an expert. He’s on the spectrum, he’s not an encyclopedia. It’s not been a subject he’s wanted to look into too much. That’s another lie – he could know everything there is to know and he still wouldn’t be able to explain it to Clark. He feels like he should though, or at least could. He knows he can trust Clark with this, even if he can’t really pinpoint why he knows. It must be the sleep deprivation talking again and the fact that Clark is looking at him with such care that Bruce can almost feel his eyes on his skin. He turns his head back around to keep from being drawn too deep into close beautiful blues. He’s not sure where all these thoughts are coming from, at least not sure enough that he wants to look too closely at them, so he tries to focus on Clark’s breathing and what he wants to tell him. All he knows is how he feels, how he acts. And when he’s overwhelmed-

“I stim. Repeat movements to regulate myself. Calm down, somehow,” he says. His words are choppy and off-sounding. He’s not confident in this, not like he is when he’s Batman. But Clark isn’t laughing or interrupting and if they’re going to be stuck here, Bruce might as well share a bit. Not too much, but this much seems alright. It feels safe.

“Is it working?” Clark asks carefully.

The hesitation in his voice has Bruce turn around fully to look at him again. This is an awkward conversation even if he didn’t force Clark to talk to his back. He tries not to sigh too loudly but he knows Clark notices.

“Somewhat,” he says.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” Bruce answers instantly and instinctively. There really isn’t, but the look on Clark’s face tells Bruce he should’ve taken longer to answer. For one it would’ve done him good to take his time finding a fitting reply, but of course this is the one time he thinks he doesn’t need to. The look is gone in the blink of an eye though and before Bruce can say anything else, Clark smiles gently at him.

“Alright,” he says. “If that changes, please let me know.”

“Okay,” Bruce says after a moment. He’ll trust Clark’s words to be true. He relaxes into the pillow and closes his eyes again.

Clark knows how to keep quiet, he knows when not to comment on something. He also recognizes when someone has shared something deeply personal and that he shouldn’t prod at it without permission to do so. Bruce hasn’t given him permission and yet Clark finds himself rolling onto his side, studying Bruce’s face. His eyes are closed but he’s not asleep, not yet.

“Do you- need anything?” Clark asks, because he really doesn’t know when to shut up. He’ll accept this as a fact from now on. Maybe there’s something in the air on Nereid. He’ll have to ask Bruce if he thinks so too.

“It’s a stim, Clark, not a bruise,” Bruce responds with a sigh. He hasn’t opened his eyes, but he is frowning a little.

“Is that-?” Clark starts.

“No, I don’t need anything,” Bruce interrupts, and now his eyes are open. Bright blue eyes are staring at him. They’re red rimmed and tired but still alert. There’s a prolonged silence and then Bruce says, a little softer: “Is it bothering you?”

“No,” Clark says instantly. It doesn’t bother him, not at all. He’s just never seen Bruce exude any type of nervous energy before. Not like this, at least. Not this… human. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Alright.”

Clark can’t really tell if Bruce believes him, but he must’ve sounded sincere enough for him to relax back into the bed. About seven minutes later (Clark really doesn’t need much sleep and he’s trying to let Bruce have some peace; counting the seconds as well as the cracks in the roof of the cabin seems as good a pastime as any) Bruce’s foot starts bouncing again, gentler this time, softer. A few minutes later it stops, and his breathing evens out completely.

Clark has never known a human to breathe so quietly. He’d imagined a big man like Bruce would snore like a stuffed-nosed sailor. He doesn’t; he barely moves at all. He also hasn’t moved from his position so he’s still facing Clark.

His face is beautiful like this.

Bruce is always handsome, of course, but when he’s relaxed like this? Clark has never seen anything like it. All the harsh lines on his face soften, leaving his face looking much younger than it does when he’s glaring at people. His hair is hanging over his forehead and Clark is once again hit with the need to run his hands through it. He won’t, of course, because for one Bruce is asleep and also because he’s pretty sure Bruce would not see it as a gesture of care. He'd probably do something dramatic like cut all his hair off just so Clark wouldn’t be able to do it again. Clark smiles at the thought that his actions could affect Bruce so much.

He doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a little while he shuffles closer to Bruce, not close enough to touch him, but close enough to feel his warmth. He tells himself it’s to prevent himself from falling off the edge of the bed, but he’s never really been a great liar. He’s lulled to sleep by Bruce’s barely audible breathing.

When he wakes up, Clark nearly flies off the bed. He stops himself before he can move an inch but only because the sight that greets him – the very sight that almost sent him through the roof of the cabin – makes him never want to move again.

Bruce is snuggled comfortably against him. Clark tries desperately to breathe as quiet as he possibly can.

Bruce has moved to Clark’s side of the bed during the night. Clark turns his head a little to get a better look. The movement makes Bruce’s hair slide against his cheek. He swallows thickly.

Bruce I-don’t-like-being-touched Wayne is clinging to him like a child would its mother. Wait, no, that’s not quite right. It’s more like how a lover would cling to their partner. Bruce has his leg thrown over both of Clark’s, pressing into his thighs, and while one arm is securely tugged away underneath the pillow – Clark’s pillow, mind you – the other is wrapped around Clark’s torso. Bruce’s cheek is pressed against his shoulder and- is he drooling a little? Yep, like a very comfortable lover.

Bruce lets out a little sound and rubs his cheek against Clark. He’s smiling, Clark is fairly certain. He doesn’t want to wake him up, but he can hear the planet’s inhabitants starting to move around and if they want to find a way to get home, they should probably get up soon.

Clark clears his voice softly. All it does is deepen the furrow between Bruce’s brows. He does it again and this time Bruce tightens his grip on Clark’s torso. He can feel Bruce’s stubble on his skin and tries not to think too much about how nice it feels.

“Ahem,” he says, rather loudly this time.

Bruce instantly flinches, his entire body jumping and pulling itself away from Clark. He’s tangled in both their sheets, his arm stuck underneath the pillow, and he pulls at it so hard he falls off the bed in a heap of sheets and limps. He lands on the floor with a soft oomph, legs still on the bed, sheets wrapped around one shoulder and not much else.

Clark peaks over the edge of the bed.

Bruce looks absolutely confused and his eyes are darting back and forth until they land on Clark’s face. He’s pressing his lips together to keep from laughing but it doesn’t help much when Bruce’s eyes widen in horror as he realizes what’s happened and where he is. Bright red flushes over his entire face and Clark can’t stop the laugh bursting out of his mouth.

“You-” he says but he’s stopped when Bruce kicks his shoulder. Hard.

“Not a word,” he threatens. It would’ve been more convincing if he wasn’t blushing and the sleep marks from the pillow and Clark’s shoulder weren’t still imprinted on his cheek.

Clark rubs at his shoulder to soothe the ache. Huh, Bruce must’ve known exactly where to kick to get any sort of pain from him. Clark wouldn’t put it past Bruce to figure out the weakest points on his body just to be able to do exactly this and make sure it hurt.

Well, Clark knows how to make Bruce uncomfortable too.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you said,” he says as he sits up properly on the bed, reminding Bruce of the very short conversation they’d had the night before.

“Clark.” Bruce shoves his upper body off the floor.

“If you come over to my side, I’ll shove you off the bed, you said.”

“Clark, please.” He swings his legs off the bed.

“At least fifteen inches between us at all times, you said.”

“Clark,” Bruce hisses as he throws the sheets at Clark’s face.

His cheeks are flaming red, and Clark has never been giddier in his life. He wants to kiss those flushed- oops, no, wrong mindset, backtrack. He feels a little dizzy, maybe that’s why he’s got such a hard time keeping his head in check.

“Isn’t that what you said?” he asks Bruce, mostly to have something else to focus on.

“Yes, but I-” Bruce mutters and clears his throat. Oh, he is so uncomfortable. “I didn’t-”

“You didn’t think you’d be the one to koala attack me during the night, huh?” Clark says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Bruce looks mortified until he sets his face back into his default frown.

“I did no such thing, it was- I must’ve been cold,” he says.

“You felt hot enough to me,” Clark comments and even he has a hard time believing he just said that out loud.

“Just- shut up. We need to find a way off this planet.”

“Well, I could just fly,” he says with a shrug as he stands from the bed. He feels a little sluggish, and he would never leave Bruce behind, but he could technically just fly back home if he so pleased.

“Well, I could just fly,” Bruce echoes in a nasally voice. “Screw you.”

“If the aliens ask, we might have to pretend I did.”

“You-” Bruce looks about ready to jump off the floor and strangle him. There’s something wild in his eyes – although they do look much better than they did last night. He’s slept alright then. Clark forgot to ask in the midst of enjoying the vision of Bruce’s face turning red.

“Shh, they’re coming,” Clark interrupts Bruce before he can start threatening him with Kryptonite infused bullets or whatever else fun stuff he has lying around.

“Shit,” Bruce hisses and throws himself onto the bed again. He’s frantically moving all the sheets around even though there’s clearly nothing underneath them. They were just on the floor a minute ago, after all. “Where the hell is my cowl?”

Clark looks around the floor and frowns.

“Where’s my uniform?”

#did I read this through?#no #am i gonna?#maybe later #for now: enjoy #what happens on nereid #misha writes #superbat fanfiction #superbat #clark kent x bruce wayne #clark kent/bruce wayne #superman x batman #superman/batman #jeez this got long as well #now I'll go write part 3 lol #part 3 is where all the spicy stuff happens btw #yayyyy #(it's not really spicy but like. shush #we're having fun)

100 notes · View notes

queersolar · 5 months

Text

⚠️TW Vent⚠️ I don’t know what to warn for but it’s basically about being an autistic kid raised by a non autistic parent

My father unintentionally said something really shitty to me today. We were talking about my new job and the anxiety I had when he brought up I might have to shave for the job and the relief when the job told me I did not. The conversation continued about how I like my beard. It makes me feel masculine and handsome. My father disagreed saying my beard was patchy (which honestly it is) and it didn't make me handsome.

And here's where my brain splits. Knowing my father I know that's what he meant. He thinks the beard does not make me hands-on, not that he thinks I'm not handsome, but it is not because of the beard.

But what I hear is “You're not handsome.” Which sucks as someone who already has a plethora of issues with my body. It broke a piece of my self confidence which I've just started to gain.

We jokingly go back and forth with it. “My beard makes me handsome.” “No it doesn't.” “I am handsome.” “Think what you want.”

I don't know if my father considers me handsome. That thread of self-consciousness starts to spread and I convince myself he meant what he said.

I'd moved on and was saying good night to my stepmom, joking about how I'd asked my father to take me clothes shopping instead of her. After a bit of joking around I made a joke about not wanting to take my father anymore because he's mean to me. A joke I use a lot when something minor doesn't go my way. You won't let me rub glitter on you? God you're so mean to me. You don't play along with my games like I hoped you would? You're so mean to me. It's never a real issue when I say it, just a joking pout.

So my stepmom asks what my father had done, and I had to think on what “mean” things my father has done and still in a joking manor I tell my step mom about the beard discussion.

And she gets this look about her. God I just put my dad in the dog house. Because she heard the same thing I did, even though I explained it the way my father meant it. “He said my beard is patch and it doesn't make me attractive.”

I'm not really upset by the matter but I'm not fine with it either. I should explain to my dad how it sounds to me, but the fear of him agreeing stops me. I've also never been great with communicating how something makes me feel. Which is probably why my stepmom took the issue so strongly. But like I feel bad for getting my dad in trouble for it.

On the other hand my stepmom is probably the best thing that's happened to my father and me (not my older brother but he's a dick anyway.) Especially since an old therapist suggested I may have autism. Like as a kid food was the enemy. I had a very select group of food I would eat, like most children, but I wouldn't eat food that touched without a fight. I refused to mix food (like spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce.) if my father ever treated to leave me at the dinner table until I finished my plate is get comfortable and sleep there.

And I just think of a couple years ago when my dad and I got into a huge fight about spaghetti. My parents had a rule that I needed both pasta and tomato sauce on my plate, otherwise I'd just eat a plat of noodles. I'd accepted those terms and while never a lot, always made sure my plate had tomato sauce along with my pasta. After some time my father decided it was time I start mixing the two and that fight was bad. My father had threatened to blend all of my food together and have me drink it, and he tried to smack my mouth for back talking, but missed and gave me a bloody nose. Eventually my stepmom involved herself, because the fight had escalated too much, and started chewing my dad out. I was eating the food anyway. What did it matter if it was mixed or not? And since my father has never brought up the issue again.

I don’t believe my father is a bad guy, but he has ideas that don’t work with my brain. He thinks things should be a certain way and I didn’t fit that mold so he tried to teach it to me the best way he knew how to forcing me to bed to his ideas. And my stepmom has taught him that maybe that isn’t the best thing to do, and has helped him become more open and communicative.

Another little autistic thing my brain is thinking about is comfort clothing. Not like I’m wearing this because it’s comfy, but I’ve worn this same jacket for the last 8 weeks because it makes me not want to die. I remember my mother making me throw away one of my comfort shirts when I was younger because it no longer fit me, and it was a fight. Or I used to get comments about wearing the same thing for two days in a row or before and after a shower. And now with the McGill Sweater, nearly every moment I’m home I’m wearing it. It’s another thing that makes me feel attractive and it brings me so much joy. Neither of my parents have commented on how often I’m seen wearing it, and as long as it’s in the house and I’m keeping up on my hygiene it’s not too big an issue.

Anyway I love my stepmom. She is my favorite parent and both my biological parents know that. Rip little 9 year old me who believed in evil stepmothers and hated her for taking my mom’s place. Yeah we don’t always get along, but she cares about me like I was her own child and loves me as such.

2 notes · View notes

tenebraevesper · 5 months

Text

Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged, Night 17: Not Here All Night

''In the past they said that they stuffed you in a suit. You know, the cover up story sounds kinda cute. Just remember now that everything's gonna be fine, because your darkest thoughts are all in your mind. Now before I leave I just remembered we found a toy. A freaking robot with brains, oh what a joy! So I'll pass you recordings of the original voice. See, he'll never leave you be, so just listen, you don't have a choice!''

– Not Here All Night by DAGames (Five Nights at Freddy's 3)

xXxXxXx

Sam was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was late in the night and it was thundering outside, but, despite being tired, she couldn't fall asleep. Her arm itched a little, wrapped up in new bandages. The smaller scratches were almost healed, while the bigger one was still red, albeit also healing. She hoped that it wouldn't leave a scar.

She then got up, realizing that this didn't work and sneaked out of her room, going towards the guest room, or rather, Springtrap's room. He was reading one of the novels he had borrowed from her, looking surprised when he saw her entering the room.

''Sam, are you okay?'' he asked, approaching her.

''Yeah, but I can't sleep,'' Sam said, yawning. Springtrap didn't look convinced, as she looked quite tired, but he decided that he could entertain her a little. Sam sat down next to him, yawning and looking sleepy. Springtrap tilted his head, looking at her.

''So, is there anything you want to talk about?'' he asked.

''Honestly, I don't know,'' she replied, sighing and leaning back. ''All I see is those animatronic parts, although, for you, those are probably like literal body parts.''

Springtrap cracked a smile.

''I know that it is weird for you to see unfinished robots, but I'm used to that,'' he replied. Sam yawned.

''Yeah…'' She closed her eyes. ''Anyways… about that…''

''Sam, you really should go to bed,'' Springtrap told her. ''You're exhausted.''

''Yeah, I am, but I still can't sleep,'' Sam said dryly, opening one eye. She sighed. ''What I wanted to say is that I just can't stop thinking about that room with those animatronic parts. To be honest, whenever I close my eyes, I just see myself trapped inside that room.''

''I see… Do you have any nightmares?'' Springtrap asked her.

''No… Not really…'' she said in a tired tone, her eyes closed. ''I… I don't think so…''

Springtrap kept quiet, noticing her breathing deeply.

''Try to relax a little,'' he said in a calm and gentle tone. Sam nodded slightly, but it didn't seem as if she registered his words. ''You're safe at home, and rest assured, nobody is going to lock you up in that room in the factory. At least not as long as I am here.''

While he was sure that she had fallen asleep due to exhaustion, he still left her like this, even when she leaned against his shoulder. He wasn't really certain how to react to the fact that she was pretty much using him as a pillow, but he decided to let her be. Once he was sure that she wouldn't wake up if he moved her, he gently picked her up and walked over to her room, placing her in her bed and putting the blanket over her. He observed her quietly, his eyes glowing in a faint purple.

You shouldn't be the one to worry about what's going on.

His attention then turned to the window, as lightning illuminated the sky. Seconds later, it was followed by a thunder. Springtrap figured that a heavy rainstorm was coming, wondering whether Sam had any plans for the next day. While she might already have something in mind, he thought that it wouldn't be a bad thing to take a little pause.

Deciding to address this tomorrow, he walked towards the door, only to glance back at Sam. She looked quite peaceful and he didn't want to disturb her. However, he was a little reluctant about leaving. What if she has some kind of nightmare? I know that Emma won't be happy about this, but I think I should stay just in case.

He sat down on the floor next to the bed and glanced at Sam. So far, she was fine. He sighed, leaning against the bed frame, looking at the window when he heard the thunder again. Big drops of rain started to hit the window, with the wind blowing. It may have been strange, but there was something calming and refreshing in listening to the rain falling outside.

xXx

The next morning, Springtrap was at the kitchen. Emma had already left, with him assuming that she went to work. He remembered that she was quite satisfied when Sam picked her up from work the previous day, and she didn't really question them about what happened. Springtrap still had trouble wrapping his head around Emma not being upset about what they were doing.

Sighing, he focused on not burning Sam's breakfast. He was waiting for Sam to wake up in order to discuss what they would do next as, after waking her up early the previous day, he figured that this time, he should let her sleep. He looked at the black device he held in his hand, examining it closer.

The device had a switch on the underside, as well as a plug-in on one side. Turning it around, he also saw a dial with a plus and minus sign on each side. Curious, he was tempted to flip the switch, despite having no idea what might happen. However, reflecting on his past mistakes, he knew that he shouldn't make impulsive decisions. He clenched his fist, knowing that it would be smarter to wait for Sam to wake up and ask her for her opinion, before he decides to test the device.

After he had set the stack of pancakes on the table, he sat down and waited for Sam to come down. Staring at the food, he couldn't remember the last time he actually ate something. Sure, it wasn't bad to be practically immortal and not having to worry about everyday necessities, but he sometimes did miss the fact that he couldn't eat, drink or sleep. This was just a piece of the price he payed when he decided to accept this fate.

A few minutes passed and he looked up when Sam walked into the kitchen, looking chipper and having seemingly slept well. She looked a little flustered when she saw Springtrap.

''Before you say anything, I didn't fall asleep because your speech was boring or anything like that-'' she said. ''I mean, you're quite the opposite of boring…''

''Sam, you looked like a sleepwalker last night,'' Springtrap replied, sounding a little amused. Sam sat down, eyeing her breakfast with a hungry look on her expression. ''I doubt you even remember what I told you.''

''I think I do…'' Sam tried to remember what he said, but her mind was blank. She sighed, only to flinch when it suddenly thundered. She looked through the window outside, with rain pouring down heavily. ''When Mum said that it would rain, I didn't expect this.''

''So, do you have any plans for today?'' Springtrap asked her.

''No,'' Sam replied. ''I don't really want to go anywhere while it's raining like crazy,… unless there's something you want to do?''

''No, that's why I asked for your opinion,'' Springtrap said, then placed the black device on the table. ''I wanted to test this out.''

''I thought you'd already examine it,'' Sam said, picking it up and looking at it.

''I figured it would be better to wait for you,'' Springtrap replied. ''That is, in case something goes wrong.''

''Do you already have an assumption about what this thing does?'' Sam asked him.

''A few, but unless I activate it, I won't know,'' Springtrap replied as she gave him the device back. ''We found a similar device in Ricky, but I don't understand why only Ricky and Raven have them.''

''You know, when we went over those documents that had the animatronics' blueprints, there were also dates on top of each one. Ricky and Raven seem to be the first that were created, at least as a concept,'' Sam said. ''Although, it still doesn't explain why only they have those devices.''

''I assume that Connor was the one who put them there, but that still doesn't answer why only them. Even the endoskeletons at the factory didn't have these devices,'' Springtrap said.

''Well, Raven is already different from the other animatronics, while Connor seems to heavily associate himself with Ricky, so…'' Sam trailed off, shrugging. ''In any case, we have a Big Bad Wolf lurking in this town, ready to tear down his next victim.''

''Those kinds of people will always exist, Sam,'' Springtrap told her in a dark tone. ''Besides, considering what I did in the past, I'm not better than him. As a matter of fact, I'm even worse.''

''You're right, but still, there is a difference,'' Sam said, with Springtrap giving her a confused look. ''He's a wolf, you're a fluffy bunny.''

Springtrap snorted, having to admit that she was actually right in that sense.

''Smartass,'' he said, as he watched her finishing her meal and cleaning up. He got up, showing her the device as they walked into the living room. ''Anyways, let's try this out.''

He then flipped the switch.

''Aaghrr!''

The moment he did that, static suddenly appeared before his eyes, with a buzzing noise ringing in his ears. The device fell out of his hand as he fell on his knees, clutching his head in pain. He screeched in agony, feeling as if his head was going to explode.

What is going on?!

Suddenly, the painful headache subsided, with him looking up. Sam stood in front of him, holding the device.

''Springtrap, are you okay?'' she asked in a worried tone.

''I am now,'' Springtrap replied as he got up, rubbing his temple. He felt a little dizzy. ''At least we know what this thing does.''

''Yeah, it causes you pain,'' Sam said sarcastically, looking at the device. ''Are you sure about this? I mean, I did hear some buzzing sound, but only barely. However, you…''

''I felt as if someone was driving a drill into my skull,'' Springtrap said, extending his hand, with Sam reluctantly giving him the device. He examined it. ''It seems as if this device operates only on a frequency that can be registered by animatronics.''

He messed with the dial, flipping the switch again. This time, he heard the buzzing noise again and saw faint static, but it wasn't as bad as before.

''You can regulate the frequency,'' he said as he slowly turned the dial towards the plus sign, with the static and the buzzing increasing and becoming more and more agonizing to deal with. He then turned it off, feeling nauseous. He sat down on the couch, waiting for the static to fade.

''I don't think you should turn that on again,'' Sam said, looking at the device that Springtrap still held and then glancing back at him. ''What is this device even supposed to be?''

''I am not completely sure. However, it seems to be created to irritate an animatronic's senses, making them unable to function properly,'' Springtrap said.

''Okay, but why would it be inside Ricky and Raven?'' Sam asked.

''I don't know,'' Springtrap said. ''It could be possible that it is used to control the animatronics.''

''You mean, like some kind of controlled shock?'' Sam said, with Springtrap shuddering as he remembered Mike using a taser on him in an attempt to keep him at bay. He nodded.

''Only that this one is more subtle. You said that you barely sensed it,'' Springtrap added.

''So, this black device was created only for animatronics in order to irritate their senses and make them unable to function properly in order to control their behavior. Humans can sense it, albeit only barely. Only Ricky and Raven have those…'' Sam summed everything up. ''Wait, I don't know about Ricky, but it would make sense in Raven's case. I mean, we have established that he was possessed at some point, and the device would be necessary to make sure he won't harm someone.''

''Speaking of which, Sam, could I get a look at the photos you took while we were at the factory?'' Springtrap asked.

''Sure,'' Sam replied, with the two going upstairs. ''I assume you figured something out.''

''No, but there's something I need to see,'' Springtrap replied. ''I feel as if I missed something.''

''You did say that everything at the factory is quite chaotic,'' Sam said as she opened the door and the two entered her room. She then turned her laptop on. ''I'm not surprised that you feel like that.''

She then opened the file with the photos she took last night and turned the laptop so Springtrap could see it. She then went through the photos.

''Wait,'' Springtrap said, when she opened the photo of the room with the animatronic parts. ''Could you zoom it in on that torso?''

''Okay…'' Sam bit her lip, setting the photo. The torso looked rather generic, with brown fur and, now that she looked more closely at it, huge stitches on the top of the torso. Next to it was an arm covered in brown fur, with holes on the joints.

''Could you just focus on the parts that are similar to this one?'' Springtrap asked her, with Sam nodding, examining all the photos in detail. ''Look at this, is that a rib cage?''

''There are two,'' Sam said, circling another one with the mouse. One of the rib cages was yellow, while the other one was grey, with red fur patches on the top of the torso. She then noticed something in the shadows, looking like a messily tied red bowtie.

''Something doesn't make sense here,'' Springtrap said. ''None of the mascots at Ricky's have these kinds of color schemes.''

He and Sam exchanged glances, as it dawned them what exactly those parts might be. Sam shook her head.

''Okay, wait a sec… Let's first state what might as well be pretty much confirmed,'' Sam said. ''We found a guy, the security guard from Ricky's Wonder Shack, murdered and left at Freddy's. We know that he was probably murdered at Ricky's after hours by Ricky's actor, Connor. Why? We have no idea. He might've seen something he wasn't supposed to see.''

''Connor may have worn one of the suits, specifically the Ricky suit, in order to avoid getting blood on himself. After all, there were enough of those costumes, so people probably won't notice when one goes missing and just assume it was taken to get cleaned,'' Springtrap added. ''He may have been the one who also turned the cameras off.''

''In any case, he's a creep who considers the animatronics his friends. He may just be acting, but honestly, it still strikes me as strange,'' Sam said. ''Now, about the animatronics; while Dahlia, Virgil, Quentin and Max seem to be normal, Ricky and Raven have this black device that irritates the senses of an animatronic. It is also possible that the device may have been used to control them.''

''Now, Raven was never supposed to be part of Ricky's Wonder Shack, having been decommissioned due to an accident at the Machinations Factory. Still, he ended up in that hidden room behind the stage,'' Springtrap continued. ''We also know that Raven had been possessed by a spirit of someone who probably died at the factory. However, we don't really know what exactly happened.''

''Still, we do know that there is a connection between Connor, Raven and what occurred at the factory,'' Sam said, with Springtrap nodding, looking a little lost in his thoughts. ''Will?''

''Someone died at that factory. Someone's soul was tied to the Raven, probably causing those accidents that led to the animatronic to become decommissioned. I believe that, once they decided that he wouldn't be part of the group, they put him in the boiler room, probably to melt him down and use the metal for new parts, but they didn't for some reason,'' Springtrap said, glancing at Sam.

''It could be that, if Connor indeed once worked at the factory, he was aware that something was wrong with Raven, and wanted to keep him close, which might also be the reason why he kept him at Ricky's Wonder Shack. Once we found him, he decided to move the Raven back,'' Sam added.

''I assume he knows that Raven was haunted at some point, but that he doesn't know that the soul had abandoned the animatronic, with the AI having merged with whatever remained from the soul,'' Springtrap said, glancing at the photo. ''We also know that he's probably trying to create haunted animatronics, or at least something similar. Not to mention, he uses different kinds of animatronic parts, but there are some that don't look like they belong to the animatronics from Ricky's Wonder Shack, but rather…''

He frowned, glancing at Sam, who looked back at him with a serious expression.

''You made animatronics that looked friendly, but were killer machines,'' she said darkly. ''However, these are just killer machines.''

''Not only that, but going by the animatronic parts we saw, he is trying to make animatronics that are similar to Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy,'' Springtrap added, with Sam returning to the photo of the room where they found the tanks and the huge sickle-like, or rather, hook-like object.

''Okay, but, why would he do that?'' Sam asked, with both her and Springtrap being confused. ''As far as we know, he hates Freddy's and the mascots. Also, the endoskeletons we found didn't look like they could fit those parts.''

''Honestly, I don't know what this guy is planning,'' Springtrap said, feeling a little frustrated. He felt that the answer was obvious, but there were still some key components he didn't understand. ''It's as if there are two puzzle pieces that just don't fit together, no matter how you place them.''

''I guess it cannot be helped, especially considering that we still don't know everything and that all we have are assumptions and theories,'' Sam said in a comforting tone, with Springtrap giving her a questioning look. ''William, what is currently going on is not your fault. This is the fault of a deranged and delusional person and, while you might think that there are similarities, you are nothing like him.''

''Why do you think that I am worried about that?'' Springtrap asked, trying to sound amused by her question. However, his expression turned serious when he saw Sam's look of concern. ''Am I that easy to read?''

''Sometimes you are, sometimes you aren't,'' Sam replied. ''I'm trying my best to pick up on whenever you feel upset, since you're not really willing to share how you feel.''

''I'm sorry…'' Springtrap muttered, aware that he was better at concealing his own feelings and creating a new persona in order to interact with society, rather than just being honest about how he felt. It was simply easier that way and people never questioned him. However, with Sam, that was hardly possible to hide how he felt.

''It's fine,'' Sam replied. ''Sometimes, it is interesting to see whether I can figure out how you feel or not. It's worth to just see your reaction.''

''I guess there are still other things I need to work,'' Springtrap said. He remembered his conversation with Henry, aware that his old friend didn't really believe that he could change anything about his behavior and attitude. Even the entity mocked him whenever he refused to act like his past self.

However, he was confident that he could prove them wrong.

xXx

Connor was at the room with the costumes, having been told by the manager to clean up the Ricky suit as a child had accidentally spilled soda on it and they couldn't let the animatronic walk around with a dirty suit on. Truth to be told, he was a little annoyed that the management denied him any interaction as Ricky until the suit was clean.

He knew that he deserved to be one of the characters, as no one else was fit for this kind of performance, but he didn't have much of a say in it. Of course, he still held the strings here, as he knew that he was the only one capable of dealing with the animatronics. Whenever they malfunctioned, he'd be asked to fix them, but that was it. There was no praise for his work, although, he didn't want any from someone who couldn't appreciate his abilities.

''In the end, it is only you and me,'' he said, holding and looking at Ricky's head. ''I am sorry that I had to move our friend back, but it was necessary.''

He placed the head back on the desk, stroking it gently. His eyes narrowed as he thought about his co-workers, knowing that he was an oddity among them. None of them understood his strange affinity for the robots. It was quite hard to find someone who would be awed by his ideas and achievements, but he did feel that he had found someone like that. Still, it would take a while until he could show them what he had managed to accomplish. He wanted it to be perfect.

However…

He couldn't stop thinking about that strange animatronic. He was fairly certain that the robotic bunny belonged to Freddy's, but he was quite sure that he had never seen a mascot like this one. There were times he wondered whether he had hallucinated the animatronic, but he looked too real to just be some kind of delusion. Musing about it, Connor put the mask on.

He needed to be careful while planning his next step.

xXx

Sam winced when it suddenly thundered.

''What is wrong with the weather today?'' she muttered. ''This one sounded like a bomb went off above our heads.''

''It will eventually stop,'' Springtrap told her. ''Although, I wouldn't want to be the one who got caught outside in such weather.''

''Me neither,'' Sam said. Apparently, after their conversation about Ricky's, they two had decided that they wouldn't go anywhere, as the weather conditions were terrible. Therefore, they remained at Sam's room, talking about random stuff. Springtrap gave Sam a strange look as she suddenly went quiet, as if remembering something.

''Are you okay?'' he asked, with Sam looking up at him and smiling.

''Sure, although…'' She sighed. ''Okay, maybe I'm not. At one point, after school, I ended up without a ride while it was pouring outside, as Mum was away on a business trip. One of my former friends told me her mum could pick us both up and that I should wait for her. Well, I did wait for her… for three hours.''

''What happened?'' Springtrap looked surprised.

''I called her and she told me that she couldn't find me, so she left. When I finally arrived at home, I looked like I fell into a swimming pool,'' Sam said bitterly. ''Even my backpack and my books were wet. When I called her later, she told me it was my fault for not arriving at the meeting spot at the time we agreed to. Once I told her that I was there, she played dumb, telling me that I was lying and that we were supposed to meet somewhere else.''

''Honestly, I would really love to have a word with your former friends,'' Springtrap said, with Sam noticing the irritated look on his expression. ''I'm quite sure that they would understand how hurtful their pranks were and apologize to you after a quick conversation.''

''I do believe that they would, although I don't want to bother dealing with them,'' Sam replied, knowing well that Springtrap would probably threaten them and force them to apologize to her. She smiled. ''I'm just happy that you're my friend.''

''At least I'm a better friend to you than I was to Henry…'' Springtrap's ears twitched.

''I can't argue with that,'' Sam said, with Springtrap lowering his head. ''Still, you're obviously doing better now, which is a good thing.''

''You aren't doing bad yourself either,'' Springtrap replied. ''Someone would think that, after going through all of that, you'd stop trusting people.''

''Honestly, I do want to trust people. I mean, I know that I should be wary of others, but it's annoying when you're constantly cautious, unsure whether you can even approach a person safely,'' Sam said, looking at Springtrap. ''I'm glad that I can at least trust you.''

''Sam, I…'' Springtrap trailed off when he saw Sam staring at him with a look of uneasiness on her expression. He sighed. ''I know you're annoyed by my self-deprecation, but I'm just being honest here. I don't trust myself, even though you do. Hell, even Emma-''

''Even Emma what?'' Springtrap froze, turning around only to see Emma smiling smugly as she leaned against the door. He frowned.

''How long have you been listening to us?''

''Long enough to know that you seriously need to work on your confidence,'' Emma told him, then looked at both of them. ''Why are you even here? I thought you'd be out, exploring places.''

''Water and robots don't mix well together,'' Springtrap replied.

''I assume you based that on personal experience,'' Emma said, joining the two. Sam and Springtrap exchanged glances, wondering just how much she knew.

''In any case, we're not going anywhere during this kind of weather,'' Sam said.

''I know,'' Emma replied, with Sam figuring that her mother was trolling them again. ''Don't worry, I just came here to tell you something and then I'll leave you two alone.''

''Just take your time,'' Sam said sarcastically. Emma winked, still smiling. While looking at both of them, and feeling a little lost, Springtrap had to wonder just how did Emma manage to be so calm about the whole situation and accept whatever Sam was doing as something normal, only to realize that Emma was probably considering this as normal. After all, she did state her opinion on this and just let them do whatever they wanted, as long as they followed the conditions she gave them.

''Me and Cassie are going to visit an old friend of Cassie's tomorrow. Sadly, her grandmother died about a week ago and she told us that there were a few things she wanted to get rid off, so she offered us to come to her place and take whatever we find. Apparently, her grandmother was a passionate collector,'' Emma explained.

''Are you sure about this trip?'' Springtrap asked her in an ominous tone. ''Last time you decided to visit someone to buy something, it didn't end up well.''

''At least I spend my time learning from my mistakes rather than just reflecting on them like you do, Afton'' Emma replied, with Springtrap's eyes flaring purple as he glared at her. She grinned slyly. Sam, who was looking at each of them, was on the verge of facepalming, feeling that both could at least try and improve their current situation, rather than try to mess with each other.

''Still, reflecting on your mistakes helps you understand why you made them in the first place and how to prevent them from happening in the future,'' Springtrap replied.

''I guess you're right,'' Emma said after a little pause, shrugging and leaving the room. Springtrap was a little confused about the lack of quips, as well as her calmness, hoping that she would finally leave him alone. To his dismay, she didn't. ''Oh, and before I forget; I heard someone walking through the house last night.'' Both Sam and Springtrap froze, nervously looking at Emma, who put on a confused look. She crossed her arms, putting a finger on her chin, as if she had no idea what was going on. ''Of course, I might've been just dreaming. Right?''

''Um, sure…'' Sam said, laughing in a nervous manner. She and Springtrap felt their anxiety skyrocketing when Emma suddenly gave them a death glare.

''I hope so,'' she said, closing the door. Sam and Springtrap glanced at each other, looking disturbed.

''She's a nightmare,'' Springtrap said in a quiet tone, as if fearing that Emma would overhear them.

''Even though she has a point… I agree with you,'' Sam said.

Both winced when it thundered again.

xXx

Connor rose an eyebrow when he saw a figure standing in the rain next to Ricky's Wonder Shack, holding an umbrella and looking frantically at their phone. He recognized the person as Bella, who seemed to be in trouble. He drove next to her on the empty street, lowering the window.

''Do you need a ride?'' he asked.

''Oh, thank God!'' Bella looked relieved. ''I thought you had already left!'' She quickly got into the passenger seat, folding her umbrella. ''My roommate had a family emergency and couldn't pick me up, so I was only left with the option to walk back home.''

''That's unfortunate,'' Connor replied. ''You won't mind if I do a little detour? There's some work I need to get done. I can drive you back home after I have finished.''

''Go ahead, I won't mind,'' Bella replied briskly. ''I'm just glad I don't have to walk back home during this weather.''

Connor nodded, with the rest of the ride being in silence, as Connor wasn't really talkative and Bella was focused on texting someone on her phone. She did lift her head once they stopped in front of a gate that led to a strange building. Lightning illuminated the sign above the gate.

''Machinations Factory,'' she muttered, looking at Connor. ''Why are we here?''

''As said, I have something to do. If you want, you could join me,'' Connor replied, taking the umbrella from the back of his car and a pair of keys. He then unlocked the rusty lock and opened the gate, looking at Bella. She was unsure whether to follow him, but she had no idea how long he would be inside that building. She also didn't feel exactly safe being left in this strange area she didn't recognize. Taking a deep breath, she took her umbrella, joining him. Connor smiled as she followed him, while Bella clutched her smartphone tightly, as if it was a safety blanket. He then unlocked the front entrance, with the two leaving their umbrellas there.

''What is this place?'' Bella asked. ''How come you have the keys for it? Are we even allowed to be here?''

''I used to work here and I look after the building,'' Connor replied, walking over to a nearby office and taking a flashlight from the desk. ''Unfortunately, the power is still out due to a broken generator, so we'll have to use this.''

''I have my own,'' Bella said, holding up her smartphone as she turned the flashlight on. She then followed Connor, wondering where he was going. ''So, what is this factory?''

''It used to make animatronics,'' Connor said.

''Ah, I see,'' Bella muttered. ''This is where Ricky and the Misfits were created, right?''

''Exactly,'' Connor said, giving Bella a curious look. ''Say, what do you think about them? About Ricky and his friends? Aren't they fascinating?''

''Well, they are robots capable of interacting with people. Of course they're interesting,'' Bella replied, with Connor looking pleased. ''Although, I'm not really interested in them.''

''Really?'' Connor's eyes narrowed, the joy inside him perishing like an extinguished flame.

''To be honest, they're kind of creepy,'' Bella added, not noticing the change in his eyes.

''I see,'' Connor said half-heartedly. ''I think they're quite special.''

''What is, according to you, so special about them?'' Bella asked him, feeling chills crawling down her spine when she saw Connor grinning.

''I'll show you,'' he replied. Bella shuddered, with a voice inside her head screaming to leave now. After all, she didn't know Connor that well and she had no idea where she was. I should've called an Uber…

Still, she followed Connor, hoping that that voice in her head was wrong. He didn't force her to come here and he didn't look like he would object if she just left. Aside from that, Bella was quite sure that she would get herself lost in the factory.

''Don't worry, I just wanted to introduce you to my friend,'' Connor told Bella, snapping her out of her thoughts.

''Well, that's nice…'' she said nervously, following him to some kind of boiler room. Inside it was a furnace, with a strange-looking animatronic sitting inside it, leaned against the wall. ''I-Is this your friend?''

''Yes, he is,'' Connor replied, crouching next to the Raven. Bella gasped in surprise when the animatronic started to trash suddenly. ''Don't worry, he won't hurt you. He just hasn't figured out how to stand up.''

''Who is he? Why isn't he at Ricky's Wonder Shack?'' Bella asked.

''Unfortunately, he was decommissioned before he could appear on stage,'' Connor said as he stood up. ''I told him I could make him better, that I would correct the injustice that had been done to him. I'm the only one who understands him and he's the only one who understands me.''

''Connor, I want to go home,'' Bella said, trying to keep calm, but she was shaking. ''Please…''

She shivered when she saw the cold look Connor gave her.

''Do you really think that he's not worth it?'' he asked.

''N-No, I mean… I don't know… I just want to go home, please!'' Bella pleaded. ''I am not interested in any of this!''

''So, that's how it is,'' Connor muttered. ''You really hate them, don't you…''

''No, I never said that!''

''You're lying!'' Connor yelled at her, storming out of the room. Bella fell on her knees, hearing the steps echoing through the hallway. She was in shock, not understanding what was wrong with Connor. Why is he so obsessed with those animatronics?! They're just machines!

Feeling sick, she got up, entering the hallway and searching for the exit. Even though she hoped that Connor would calm down a little, she didn't want to deal with him anymore. As she walked down the hallway, she noticed that one of the doors was open. She peeked inside, hoping to find some kind of exit, only to gasp upon seeing numerous animatronic parts inside it. What freaked her out the most was the brown bear mask with the black top hat that was placed on the desk next to the door. Its eyes would flicker eerily, as if it was possessed by something.

She stepped back, only to bump into something. Turning around, her eyes widened as she saw Ricky staring back at her with bloodshot eyes. Something silver flashed, and her scream died in her throat as she staggered back, falling on her knees as her fingers feebly reached for the knife in her chest.

''You will learn to appreciate them,'' Connor said proudly, grinning underneath the Ricky mask. ''I have managed to bring my partner back and I will do the same to you. You won't have to suffer anymore in this pathetic body.''

''Y-You…'' Bella stuttered, with blood flowing out of her mouth. She fell down as the world around her turned black. Connor stared at her blankly as she stopped moving, the blood that was flowing out of her chest staining the floor. He crouched next to her, observing her glassy and lifeless eyes.

''It won't hurt,… I promise.''

Links:

#Previous Chapter

#Current Chapter

#Next Chapter

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story #Five Nights at Freddy's: Salvaged #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #springtrap

3 notes · View notes

myunghology · 2 years

Note

Hello. May I please have comfort headcanons of Dainsleif, Ayato, and Kaeya (separately, please) comforting their (gender neutral) significant other who is scared of thunderstorms? Thank you. Have a good day/night.

dainsleif, ayato, and kaeya comforting their s/o who's scared of thunderstorms!

a/n : finna be workin myself for you guys, workin hard so i can please you LMFOA, apologies if it's short. gn! reader.

requests : opened!

i had to squeeze all my brain juice for dainsleif...

his heart hurts whenever he sees you being scared or just covering your ears, although he doesn't really get why you're scared of it, but respects it.

he immediately sits beside you next to the window with water drops going down, softly telling you stories about his adventures with the traveller.

i have a very weird hc that he's slightly demanding in a good way, so i think he'd probably make you sleep with him rubbing circles on your back.

if that doesn't work, he'll just hug you until the thunderstorm is gone, after that he waits for you to calm down with no pressure at all, and asks for you to go on a walk with him while it's still cold outside, he makes sure that another thunderstorm isn't gonna comeback anytime soon.

if you don't like going outside or if you don't like the cold, you two would just stay inside the rest of the day under blankets while drinking warm tea.

"dear.. are you alright?" dainsleif asked as he sat beside you, thunder could be heard as you shivered. he gets out of his position to get blankets and came back after awhile to put it on you both as he covered your ears with both of his hands.

i also think ayato would make warm tea for you, tries to distract you with other things, talking about your and his interests. in fact ayato's voice could easily make you fall asleep.

his warm hands going up and down your arms as he sits behind you is very comforting, also would like to listen to you about anything, if you want to talk about something important, it would be the right time to discuss it there.

ayato would ask help from thoma too, actually one time thoma and ayaka came back to the estate drenched in water because they had to do something with the traveller.

they saw you shivering in ayato's arms as they asked what was wrong. ayato slowly explained as he saw you asleep in his arms and combing through your hair with his hands.

"fufu, y/n has already fallen asleep, thoma, would you help me make them tea once they wake up?" ayato asked looking at thoma while ayaka was beside him. "of course!" he smiled, as ayato carried you to a bedroom, after sometime, you woke up with tea on the bed table.

kaeya is such a tease im sorry

but he also feels really bad, stops the teasing for awhile but continues on after the thunderstorm is gone and after you calmed down.

he'd also read you stories since he probably gets some books from the library that lisa let him borrow.

also tells you about the mischief klee has been doing every day, totally the person you could come to if you wanna laugh and ignore your fears.

i don't think he knows how to make tea.. so he makes warm food for you, any food of your choice.

he heard the door open slightly, he peeked through out the kitchen to see what was happening and you both saw klee drenched as he laughed.

kaeya malewife arc, he makes warm food for the both of you, tells klee she should dry off and take a bath first, after klee finishes drying up, she hands you her humpty dumptys that aren't bombs and are just plushies as you squished both of her cheeks on her face.

klee actually talked a lot, tiring you and kaeya, once you all got tired you all snuggled up in a blanked and slept, forgetting about the thunderstorm.

"klee? what are you doing here?" you questioned, "well, the headquarters was too far already and i got tired. so i decided to come here instead! you and uncle kaeya both live here anyway." she sang as you got up and headed to the bathroom to dry her up as she changed into new clothes, while kaeya was done cooking for the both of you with a small smile on his face.

#kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #dainsleif x y/n #ayato x reader #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato #dainsleif #kaeya alberich #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact #genshin ayato

25 notes · View notes

tonispencerart · 4 months

Text

A new year already?

Somehow time has passed in what seems like a blink of an eye and another year has gone. Is it just me, or does time move faster the older you get? Anyway, yes. Another year has passed. This one was very different to the last one, though. It's been one year since I stopped drinking. One whole year free of alcohol. It's a weird feeling. A year feels like it should be a long time. In many ways, it actually is a long time. But, like I said above, time appears to move faster the older I get. And now a year has passed since day 1 of not drinking. A little over a year ago, I woke up at my friend's house, a few hundred miles from my home. I'd barely slept. The night before was their wedding day, actually. The morning after was New Year's Day. I was OK but tired but I knew a hangover was coming. The groom had made a point earlier in the night before that "the wine needed drinking because we've paid for it!" I'd somehow taken that, not only as an instruction to help drink wine already paid for but as a personal challenge. I've known for years that my relationship with alcohol has been nothing short of destructive. But, for a long time (too long, really) I'd convinced myself that I only drank socially or for special occasions. At one time or another, that might have been true. But it hadn't been the case in quite some time. I drank when I was stressed or anxious. I drank when I was upset, angry, and frustrated. I drank in situations I didn't know how to handle - like being with other people. I drank to shut my brain up or block things out. I drank to cope with new and unfamiliar situations. I drank half a massive bottle of gin the day I accidentally smashed £200+ worth of art supplies when the box holding it all snapped on the bus home and sent the whole lot crashing to the floor. I drank the evening I'd applied for art school when what should have taken me a couple of hours at the very most actually ended up taking six hours. I drank when I couldn't sleep and my usual drink of a small but strong coffee hadn't worked fast enough. I drank when I was bored... But it sucked. I had bruises and cuts I couldn't explain after a night of drinking. I had a constant fear of What Did I Do?, and seeing the texts from the night before, and the night before that... And nobody likes a hangover. Imagine dealing with that most days! Granted, it wasn't every day of the week, but it was more than it should have been. Lucky for me, those years in Theatre proved handy, eh? I hope you can sense the sarcasm. But today, 5th January 2023, marks one year sober. Has it been good? No. Mostly, it's sucked.

Has it been good for me? Yes. I don't miss the hangovers, the unexplained cuts and bruises, or the What The Heck Did I Do? feelings when I finally sober up.

There have been good days, sometimes several in a row (which is nice) but it's still always in my head. I don't know if that will ever go away. And I still miss the dopamine buzz. Overall, though, it's probably the best decision I've made in a long time.

Here's to more years.

#sober #soberlife #sobriety #one year sober #one day at a time

1 note · View note

bellevvalencia · 5 months

Text

Sick

October 16, 2023

My left ear was ringing with pain the other night when I told God that I’d take any other pain rather than physical pain at that moment. It was nowhere near the level of pain of my leg injury from three months ago, but I had to get up in five hours, my room was cold, my brain was fried, and my body was limp from the gym. It was already a limit that I was facing everyday, so having a sudden additional burden was slightly an overkill. I wouldn’t have minded, but I was at a really tight spot that week.

I whined a little. Took the deepest breaths I could and thought back to all of my previous greater pains to invalidate it and strip it of its power. I’m nothing if not a drama queen. I just had to sleep, I repeated to myself over and over again, because then the feeling would go away.

It was very similar to when I cried myself to my parents because I had no idea where the pain in my leg was coming from or going to.

It was similar to when my retainers were fucking me up so bad I stopped wearing them in my sleep.

It was similar to when I got a bruise from jokingly egging a punch from a boy and I couldn’t react because I let it happen.

And it was similar to me saying “No, it’s okay, I’m used to body pain” when he apologized about it the morning after.

It was similar to when I ignored my conscious working brain for weeks and trusted the words of another boy who left as soon as he got me.

It was similar to when, after swearing off caffeine for two years, I started taking it again just so I could show up and pretend that everything was absolutely amazing.

There’s always some kind of premium when your tolerance to pain is high—obviously to yourself, because who the hell wouldn’t want to stay unscathed—but also to the way that people perceive you: Oh, she’ll be fine. She’s been through more and she can do better.

It’s always fine because you can fix yourself on your own, you need no apologies, and in your head you’re thinking that you probably deserved it anyway.

After how I acted and after what I said and after where I went?

After the way I felt?

I probably deserved that.

When my ear hurt, I knew that I would feel a lot better the next day, but it was very hard to believe. At that level, I doubted that I could ever forget the pain. I called a doctor after a few hours. He gave me meds and said I should feel relief in three days.

It was too long. But whatever it is and why, I probably did it to myself. I could do three days.

I can do three more. Maybe.

When my body doesn’t align with my mind, it should be easier to accept that it was something that I did. It’s true most of the time. I got a cold because I partied too hard. I got a fever because I stayed out too late. I got a sprain because I pulled too fast. I got a chest pain because I expected too much. I got a headache because I wasn’t stopping and I wouldn’t stop, because I had to go out and do something before it all eventually breaks me. It should all be logical.

Isn’t it so fucking funny how it’s not?

Sometimes you deal with the wrong people and you go to the wrong places and you let your heart take you even though you’re aware that none of it makes sense. And sometimes you’re wrong and you’re making mistakes. And sometimes you don’t want what’s good for you. And sometimes you want what’s bad for you.

Sometimes you let your heart take the lead...and then, more often than not, you just sit back and watch it fuck you up like a little fool.

It’s always only the greatest story of all time.

I have a very low tolerance to pain. I’d like to believe so, at least, because it doesn’t really get better. My body is sore every single day. I tire it out and I have all these outlets but when it hurts, it doesn’t get any better. It just becomes the norm that has to be endured. And when the norm is endured, you grow bigger and bigger around it, until it feels smaller and smaller and it doesn’t feel different than before anymore.

But that’s the big, ideal, birds-eye-view picture. At the end of every single day, while walking home from the gym at 10 PM, for example, it only fucking sucks ass. The pain eases for a while and for a bit but in my lone idle moments, I want to either kill myself or run to a door to pound my fists and ask why. I want to shut down and numb the constant ache in my chest down, because I blame myself and I shouldn’t, but it’s the only way I can get out of it alive. It’s the only way I can forgive—knowing that I’ll find my way through eventually.

So when I was on the verge of trading my life for a sense of relief, when my ear hurt, my brain just insisted that it could be so much worse. At least that one’s always true.

#personal #im ok i swear #pain

0 notes

timeoverload · 6 months

Text

I just wanted to say that I'm not upset anymore about what happened last weekend. I honestly don't have the energy to be angry about anything right now. I realize I never said anything else about it so I'm sorry. I apologize for freaking out. I figured it would be best if I took some time to calm down anyway.

I don't want to be a downer but I'm having a bad week again. I could use a hug right now. I need to talk about stuff because I was having bad thoughts when I was driving home. It has been super busy. Everything is a disaster. Every morning this week I've walked in to find a mess. There are 4 people off this week so that has made things worse. Of course everyone is in a shitty mood and pissed off. I worked 11 hours Monday and Tuesday and 12 today. Almost everyone has been forced to work overtime.

The new computer system isn't making anything easier because it crashes all the time and there are a lot of problems with it. The morning team lead was super pissed off about it this morning. He was throwing a tantrum and yelling. He was trying to record the results for a biological test and the system wouldn't let him because no one logged the information for the control when they put it into the incubator. I was trying to get him to calm down and all he needed to do was put a new control vial into the incubator but he wouldn't listen to me. I offered to open decontam for him because I wanted an excuse to get away even though I still had a ton of stuff to get set up. I get anxious whenever I'm around someone acting aggressively even if their frustration isn't directed towards me.

I think everyone is super tired and people are making a lot of mistakes so we had to flash a bunch of instruments earlier. Somehow I haven't made any major mistakes considering I'm very sleep-deprived so that's good at least.

I remember mentioning a while back that 2 of my co-workers are dating and they fight all the time. It hasn't gotten any better. Today she came up to me and asked me how to get away from an abusive partner because she knew I had been in a similar situation. I was shocked because I didn't realize it was that bad but everything is starting to make sense now. She's dating the same guy that acted really creepy towards me a few months ago. He has always given me bad vibes and I was right not to trust him. He's very manipulative and controlling. I gave her advice and reminded her that she can text me any time. I am going to do my best to help her as much as I can. I'm not afraid to tell him to fuck off if I have to because I've already done it once. It's going to be difficult for her to get away from him since they work the same hours. I'm just glad they don't live together but I really hope he doesn't do anything crazy. I feel horrible for her and no one deserves to get treated that way. I hope things get better for her.

Anyway, the past few days have been a blur. I am glad tomorrow is my Friday. I'm not sure how I'm going to make it through the day but I know I will. I don't want to think about it anymore right now.

I know I need to try to relax but I'm having a tough time. I can't shut my brain off. I haven't been eating enough this week so it's making me feel like shit too. I wish I had more of an appetite. I will force myself to eat something soon. I am so achy right now. My neck is bothering me a lot and it feels like someone is stabbing needles into my vertebra. I just want to feel better.

I'm sorry for being so negative and complaining so much. I have to talk about stuff so I don't explode.

I still have a lot to do before I go to bed unfortunately. I hope I can get stuff done quickly because I need to try to decompress for a while. I can't focus anymore so I should probably stop writing now. It would be nice if I could go to sleep at a decent time because I'm so tired.

Thank you all for listening to me vent. I really appreciate it. I hope everyone has a wonderful day tomorrow. 💖💖💖

#personal

0 notes

jjungkookislife · 2 years

Note

i just finished reading tongue like candy and i was going to look for a part 2 on your blog when i saw your pinned post and i have to apologize because i am one of those people who often only leave a like on posts and don't comment or reblog for reasons that my brain has justified as being okay BUT i think that has started to change and this is one way i can carry on with changing my mindset and interacting with others on here ..

sooooo i thought i should make this to show my appreciation for you ,, you very kind ,, wonderful ,, talented soul .. here goes a very long overdue ask driven by pure determination, procrastination, and sleep-deprivation (nursing school things) .. did i whip out google docs for this? maybe.. maybe not.. 👀

i have been following your blog for probably about two or three years now i think the first fic/series i ever read was your ot7 series let me hold them. it's a series i always re-read time and time again because each fic is so unique and your characterization is just mm *chefs kiss*

1. let me hold them: WHO WOULDNT WANT NAMKOOK TO BE GUSHING OVER THEM ?!?!1?!1 reader calling jungkook baby boy ?? stab me in the heart 😭😭 joon and reader purposefully riling up jungkook HNNGG

2. kim line: i would let kim line do whatever they want with me. joon set the standard too high bc i will now be expecting a whole taejin for every birthday and maybe if i wish for it long enough it'll happen 😏😏 no no i swear this one just makes me FEEL things and maybe that's just your description of their dicks but whatever it is it's working (just like their dicks) ahem .. anyway

3. in the studio: YOONGI IN THE STUDIO IS ALREADY HOT ENOUGH AS IT IS AND YET YOU SOMEHOW MADE IT EVEN HOTTER ???? and the way yoongi reciprocates the favor ?? UGH where do i find a man like him also i know i would not be able to just cockwarm yoongi like that i wouldn't even wait for him to finish what he's doing bc he can finish in me instead (ok im gonna stop)

im only three fics in but best believe i'll be carrying on with this someday and there will be more >:)) and when i say this ask is long overdue i mean that i could probably go through your whole masterlist and have something to say about them

anyway ,, sorry that it has taken me this long to write up one of these thank you for your works ,, just know that there is someone out there who reads them and appreciates them (and you) and that you have made a memorable impact in my life

i hope you have an amazing day and i hope your days are brighter from today on <33

- 🤍🤍

ps, you don't have to reply to this ask at all just knowing that you've read it would already be enough 😇😇

Hello! Thank you for coming by! I read your ask and smiled so much! It means a lot to me that you've come! Reading this ask made me so happy and giggly and if you did whip out google docs wow! <3

Two/three years is a long time! I'm glad you're here! aw lmht is my baby! It boggles my mind that I wrote all that in 9 months? I think that's right? it is my comfort series :(

LMHT oof namkook is everything! Jungkook just had the biggest crushes on oc and joon and ugh i love that fic <3 and oc calling him baby boy, my heart!

the kim line ah that's what truly kicked off the series! i was like well i mentioned it in LMHT so what if i write what happened and then i think I mention Yoongi at some point and it just grew and grew until all the members were involved <3 but yes taejin every birthday, here's hoping 😏

In the studio is one of those fics where i just had to indulge in my fantasies because wtf yoongi! and when he says "you think I'm going to allow you to leave my studio without you having an orgasm?" oof just wow he's so hot! and you're right! who could just stay still with him, like he's just so hot!

Thank you so much! this truly made my day and I appreciate you so much and I hope to hear from you again someday <3 thank you!!!!!

#b mail 💌#sweet anons

0 notes

anarmorofwords · 3 years

Text

i hate this fic but I just can't bear to delete it so I'll spend hours agonizing over it just to make it readable ahatshsgab I hate it here

#it has some parts that are okay #but it also has some that are falling apart and all over ghe place and i dont know how to fix them #i should probably go to sleep anyway because my brain has already stopped working but its annoying the hell out of me #why am i like this #im not giving up on this thing now its almost 3k #writer life #it sucks #would not recommend #sorry for complaining so much #i just feel like my brain is actively working against me atm #anyway *sigh*#im gonna sleep and im gonna wake up tomorrow hoping this just fixed itself #personal

2 notes · View notes

thebibliosphere · 3 years

Note

I had a question.

So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.

Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.

Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.

Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)

So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)

Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.

Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.

So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)

And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.

I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.

Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.

It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.

Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.

That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.

Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.

If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.

I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!

Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.

Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).

You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*

Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.

Brains are fun.

Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.

----

*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!

#adhd #not a doctor #just a sick person with lots of lived experience

912 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Right From Left

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3085

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo being a punk, Bucky getting a little scary, some feelings, Sam being his fantastic, amazing, caring for everyone self

A/N: Here it is! At long last! I’ve been waiting for this episode and it was…holy fuck. I barely have words. And I can’t start or else I’ll be ranting for pages. Anyways, I know this Part is a little on the shorter side - not by much, but it still is - and it doesn’t even cover half the episode, but I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, so I’m going to sleep. I wanted to stop before Walker entered the picture too, because then I’m just gonna get more riled up and I’m working later. I’ll probably have another part out today, and then I’ll finish it tomorrow. Unless I can finish it today. I’ll try, but no promises.

Feel free to rant to me about the episode or the show, too, guys! My friends and I have been going back and forth about it for the past few hours. I’d love to hear your thoughts! I think that’s all for now.

As always, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading, be kind to yourself and others, enjoy this part and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS BELOW CUT!

You were avoiding him.

When you first got to Latvia, he had pulled you aside, eyes wide and pleading. “Doll, listen-”

“I really don’t think right now is the time to have the discussion we’re about to have.” Shaking your head, you avoided his gaze, your stomach twisting into knots. It was too much for you to handle; you couldn’t focus on the mission at hand and try to unravel the emotions that were making your gut flip like a gymnast. There were too many thoughts in your head, and you needed a clear mind.

“But-”

“Once this is all done, and our lives aren’t in danger. Once we’re back home, then we can talk, okay? Just…please. Not here. Not now.”

And he dropped it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about it. You just couldn’t. You had always been a ‘leave your baggage at the door’ type of person. Don’t mix work with personal. Not like you had much “personal” anyways when you first decided that was how it should be. And then your coworkers became family and your motto got a lot harder to follow. But you still followed it. And you would continue to follow it.

But that made you start avoiding him. Whether you meant to or not, everyone noticed, but no one said anything. Sam shot you a look when you didn’t offer to go with Bucky when he had to check something out. Zemo raised an eyebrow when he came back and, instead of immediately questioning him, you sat still on the couch, eyes glancing up briefly, before going back to playing with the strings of your hoodie.

You were paying attention to their conversation, especially when Karli Morgenthau was brought up, you just didn’t join in. Not even when Zemo mentioned the Avengers, eyeing you to see your reaction.

Honestly, you were tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Your shoulder hurt, your brain couldn’t process what the guys were talking about, and your heart couldn’t take any more hits.

It was something you’d been thinking about…you just thought it’d come after this mission.

“She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her…or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong Zemo. The Serum never corrupted Steve.”

For the first time since he first walked in, your eyes met Bucky’s. “Touche.” Zemo pointed at Bucky with a pastry around his finger. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

But you couldn’t wait until after this mission. Not when he was so connected to it. “I think I’m gonna go home.” You blurted out before Zemo and Bucky could argue further, Bucky slumping down onto the opposite side of the couch.

The moment the words left your lips, Sam and Bucky shot up, staring at you in disbelief.

“Wait, hold up. What? Now? We’re so close-”

“Why? Is it your arm? Is it hurting? You should’ve told us-”

“I’m just tired.” You cut in, shaking your head. “That’s all. I didn’t expect this to be drawn out this long when you called, Sammy.”

Bucky’s hand twitched as he hesitatingly scooted closer to you. “Doll, if this is because what happened on the jet-”

“It’s not, Buck.” You tried to give him a convincing smile, but you knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t buy it for one second. You reached over to squeeze his hand, and when you pulled back, he held on tighter, a sigh escaping his lips as he stared down at your linked hands.

“Okay…if you wanna go home, we can get you home. Just…” His head turned back to you, a pleading pout on his features. “Just…stay. Another day. Please. You can keep avoiding me, I won’t even say another word to you if you don’t want. But stay. Just for one more day.”

Chewing on your cheek, you finally nodded slightly. “Okay. One more day.”

His eyes lit up, before his face fell again when you took your hand back and curled into the corner of the couch. “Let’s talk shop, boys.”

“Okay. So, from my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right?” Sam easily changed the topic back to the situation at hand, giving you a reassuring wink when you smiled at him gratefully. “So when I was a kid, my Tee Tee passed away.”

Bucky screwed his face up in confusion, straightening his head from where he had it leaned back. “Your - your Tee Tee?”

Sam gave him a look. “Yeah. My-my Tee Tee, yeah.”

Bucky looked at him weirdly. “Who is your Tee Tee?”

The exchange made you giggle a little bit, shaking your head. “Bucky’s a city boy from the 40’s, remember, Sammy?”

“Fine.” Sam rolled his eyes. “When I was a kid my aunt passed away.”

Bucky gave a slight huff, making you chuckle again. You stopped when he smiled over at you, but your grin didn’t leave your face. Even when they were the ones to give you a headache, your fellas were damn entertaining, that’s for sure.

With a sort-of plan in place - the gathering for Donya being no more than a theory, but the only idea you really had - you stretched out from your spot on the couch, twisting to crack your back. “Zemo.” The man stopped his rummaging through the cabinets and looked over his shoulder at you, an eyebrow raised. “Go put some clothes on. We’ve got work to do.”

He gave you an unimpressed look, opening his mouth, but Sam beat him to the punch. “Do as the lady says, man. You’re already walking on a tightrope after you shot Nagel!” Zemo waved dismissively at Sam’s exclamation, heading into a separate room to change out of his robe. “That guy is gonna drive me up the wall.”

“Don’t let him get to that pretty head of yours, Sammy.” You hummed, standing up, wincing slightly as you stretched your sore shoulder over your head.

You could tell Bucky wanted to say something, the way he snapped forwards, hands moving down his thigh like he was leaning over to reach for you, his eyes locked on your injured joint, but, just as he said earlier, he didn’t say a word. But the part that made you upset was…you didn’t stop him. You didn’t tell him it was okay for him to talk to you. You didn’t reassure him that you weren’t purposely trying to avoid him. You simply moved over to the kitchen to get something to drink.

It hurt worse than your shoulder, but you couldn’t handle it. Not then. Not with such an important part of the mission coming up. So you didn’t say anything. You just sipped your water, switching into tactic mode as your mind ran through the scenarios of what could possibly go down in the next 24 hours before you went home.

*************************

Walking under the arch, you couldn’t help but feel saddened as Zemo told you about what the courtyard used to look like. Thanos messed the world up so much more than you realized and, as much as you hated to admit it, the Avengers did have a part in it. Not that they - you - were in the wrong, necessarily. You truly believed you did what anyone in that situation, with the skills and abilities and knowledge the team had, would do what you did. Or tried to do.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs.” Sam stated, looking up at the upper stories of the building, before glancing at Bucky. “See what you can find out here. And keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll come with you.” You said, turning on your heel to follow Sam. The back of Bucky’s gloved hand brushed against yours, and instinctually you turned your palm to link your fingers and squeezing. You let go quickly once you realized what you were doing, nearly tripping up the stairs to get to Sam, not daring to wait for Bucky’s reaction.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated simply as soon as you met him at the top of the stairs.

“Can we focus on finding Donya right now, please?” You grumbled, moving forwards cautiously, peeking around the corner. You frowned when you saw two guys at the end of the hallway, looking back at you and Sam warily.

“You need to hear what he has to say, cher.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I know I do. I know. But I can’t. Not right now. I’m just trying to get this over with first. I don’t want too many things on my plate. I might choke.” It already felt like you were drowning most nights.

He paused at your words, giving you a once over, before nodding. “Okay. I can respect that.”

“Thank you.” You told him earnestly. “Now let’s try to get something from these people.”

He nodded in agreement and you two continued forwards with your search. Room after room, people walked out before you could get anything from them, locking doors behind them. The Flag Smashers logo was everywhere, but you expected nothing less from a refugee camp that practically worshipped what they were doing.

Even when you did get a guy to talk to you, he immediately shut you down, leaving you and Sam dejected. The fact that the world had gotten so bad that these people couldn’t trust you and Sam - Avengers; people who used to be heroes and bring hope to others - it made your heart sink.

“C’mon, Y/N.”

“Are we wrong?”

He froze at your question, his lips pressing together. “About what, exactly?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just…I guess I can’t tell right from left anymore. I always assumed that the Avengers were the good guys. That the actions we’ve taken in the past were us making the world a better place, but…Sokovia and Ultron. Germany and the whole civil war thing we had going on. The entire world and Thanos. We don’t truly ever win. Do we?”

“I can’t answer that for you.” Sam shook his head. “I can’t tell you what to believe or who to believe in. But I can tell you that we’ve made a difference. Steve, Nat, Tony…they made a difference.”

“But was it a good difference? Was it a change? There’s a difference between changing the world and just making it different, Sam.”

He blinked at you, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. And I don’t have that answer for you either. But they tried. They did what they thought was right. No matter if it was or not. And isn’t that all we can do? Try?”

His words made you think back to the conversation you had with Bucky once he learned about John Walker, which seemed so long ago. When you told him it wasn’t Sam’s fault. That he was just trying. That he did what he thought was right.

And maybe he was wrong. But he made a decision. It was his decision. To do the right thing. And right then, not for the first time, you could see exactly what Steve saw in the man in front of you.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

Sam grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulders and squeezing. “And you’re an incredible person, Y/N. Let’s go see if Bucky and the Baron got anything.”

You snickered at his mocking tone towards Zemo and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

*****************************

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like it one bit. So far, Zemo kept proving you wrong. Even when it seemed like he was about to jump ship, he came back. No matter how many opportunities he had to escape, he never did. And it was making you even more suspicious.

You stayed out of Bucky and Sam’s conversation, although you had to agree with Sam’s point, especially with the conversation you just had.

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute, only to be interrupted by Zemo information about the funeral this afternoon. Guess a snake will always be a snake.

“And you, uh, didn’t think this was important information?” You questioned, eyes narrowed and brow pinched.

He shrugged. “You have it now, don’t you, princess?”

Bucky growled at the nickname, leaning back on the couch, threatening Zemo with the Dora Milaje.

You can’t remember a time you’ve ever been scared of Bucky. Maybe a little threatened and intimidated by the Winter Soldier, but never scared of Bucky. And when he stood up after Zemo mentioned leverage, you didn’t expect anything from it; maybe another choke hold or something. So the glass hitting the wall, the clench in his jaw as he spoke gruffly to the Baron, for a mere second, he kind of frightened you. Maybe it was all the emotions you’d been through the past few weeks or maybe it was the adrenaline that seemed to be pulsing through your veins 24/7 nowadays. Whatever it was, it made you flinch, bolting up as Sam did.

You left the room quickly, hearing Sam say something about making a call, hoping to calm your racing heart.

“Doll?” You sat up from the bed you were laying on, legs hanging off the edge. Bucky stood in the doorway, nervously shifting his feet. “I know I said I’d leave you alone, but…”

You gave the bed a pat next to you and he gladly accepted the invitation, padding over to sit besides you. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Buck. You’re my best friend. I-I just need to take it one thing at a time right now.”

He nodded. “I get it. I wasn’t…I wasn’t coming in to talk to you about that. You said we’ll talk about it later, so we’ll talk about it later.”

“I appreciate that, Bucky.” You smiled at him, before frowning. “What did you wanna talk about then? Are you okay?”

“Did I…did I scare you?”

You blinked at his question, tilting your head. “What?”

Jerking his head to the doorway he explained, “just then. With Zemo. Your heart spiked.”

“No.” You answered immediately. You would never ever admit that he kind of did scare you. It was just for a second and you knew how his brain worked; he’d beat himself up over it, go over his actions for hours instead of getting the rest he so desperately needs and deserves. He didn’t need that on his conscience right now. “I wasn’t - I just…you startled me. I wasn’t expecting that reaction-”

“I didn’t like the way he talked to you.” He spat out, glaring at his hands in his lap. “And then the smug bastard thought he was gonna get away with holding back information like that and I just…I dunno.”

His hand came off his thigh, but he hesitated. Before he could put it down again, you slipped your hand under his, linking your fingers, running your thumb in circles against his palm. “Don’t let him get to you, Buck. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

A sigh left his lips and he nodded. “I know, I know. It’s just…hard. After everything he put me through - put us through - I…I just hate that he’s really our only option.”

You frowned, shifting on the bed to face him, one leg bending beneath you while the other still hung over. “Why are you so obsessed with catching these guys?”

“I wanna do something right.” He murmured, playing with your fingers. “I’ve done so much wrong…I just wanna do something right. And I feel...responsible for it, I guess. In a way. It’s Super Soldier Serum. I thought I was the only one after Steve…” He froze at the blonde’s mention, giving you a side-eyed glance. You nudged him, silently telling him to continue, that it was okay to talk about him. “And Sam’s right, you know. She’s just a kid. So…I dunno. I wanna help. I wanna do something right. And catching them would help. It’s right. Right?”

You nodded firmly. “I understand where they’re coming from. Karli’s just trying to help the world. But she’s doing it wrong. And that I know for absolute certainty. Which is good, I guess. I was talking to Sam early and I mentioned not knowing my right from my left recently. It’s good I know something, huh? And for you it should be easy telling your right from your left.” You joked, tracing the gold lines on his metal arm. “I guess you’re just gonna have to stay besides me to help me remember.”

Looking up, you found Bucky staring at you with something you recognized in his eyes, but didn’t want to name. “Three hours, forty two minutes and thirty one seconds.”

“What?”

“That’s how long I didn’t talk to you. It was too long.”

You sighed, ducking your head. “Bucky, I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry. For anything and everything I’ve ever done wrong. I won’t mention the plane or anything we’ve talked about until you bring it up first. I promise. Just…just don’t ignore me anymore? I'm not sure I can handle it for much longer.”

You nodded, watching your fingertips dance along his scruffy jaw. “I won’t.” He caught your wrist, opening his mouth, before shaking his head and closing it. “What?”

He shook his head again. “Not until you bring it up.”

“We will talk, James. I promise.”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it. I really do. It’s okay. As long as we’re okay for right now, I can hold it in a bit longer.”

You nearly asked him what he was holding in, but you quickly shoved the question out of your mind, knowing it would take you down a conversation you couldn’t possibly have right then. “How long do you think we have?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Zemo just said that it’s this afternoon. Why?”

“I started reading The Great Gatsby on the plane. I’ve got it on my phone. It kinda reminds me of you. Do you-do you think we have time to read some? Only if you want, I mean. Like we used to do in Wakanda?”

He grinned and nodded, scooting up on the bed and flopping down into the pillows. You smiled back, following his lead. Once you were comfortable, your phone out with the chapter you were on, Bucky scooted closer, laying his head on your stomach, hugging your waist.

“Is this okay?”

Your fingers found home in his hair and you nodded when he looked up at you for an answer. “Yeah. It’s perfect, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

urimaginespimp · 3 years

Text

A Half-naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas.

Bucky x Reader with fever.

Thank you @daredarling for the “you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you” idea.

——–

You should’ve known better than to race Sam under a thunderstorm last night. Waking up the next morning, you had a massive headache, your muscles felt sore, and you were shivering.

“Miss Y/N, Mr. Barnes says you’re half an hour late in training.” FRIDAY’s voice spoke, making you groan and bring your comforters above you.

“Tell him to fuck off.” you muffled under the sheets.

Barnes… He has been nothing but a pain in the ass to you. To this day, you don’t know what you’ve done for him to dislike you this much. And as if his snarky comments and glares thrown your way wasn’t enough, Steve actually paired you both for missions and trainings.

If he wasn’t so handsome you would’ve cut him already. If Steve allowed you.

Loud bangs hit your door outside. “Y/L/N you’re already 30 minutes late! That’s 5 laps extra for you!” You could hear the irritation lacing his voice.

Maybe if you ignore him long enough, the pest would go away.

“I know you’re in there!” He followed up after you ignored him.

Sighing in annoyance, you got up, with the blankets still wrapped around you, and weakly waddled your way to your door, not bothering to open up your curtains. Opening the door, A frowning Bucky was looking down on you. If you weren’t feeling so shitty, you would’ve snickered at his expression.

“Barnes why are you so obsessed with me?” your cracked voice barely managed to finish asking.

He was observing you from head to toe, noting how pale you are, and shivering under a huge comforter despite that your AC was off.

“You’re stupid.” That was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

“Well, you’re not that sma-”

“Will you shut up and go back to bed? You look like you’re about to drop dead any second now.” He interrupted you, his face still stern with no emotion.

Rolling your eyes, you turned back and weakly made your way back over to bed, pausing to groan as you remembered you forgot to close the door.

“If you’re still there, could you please close the door.” it almost pained you to even be so polite to him but you blame it to being sick.

Finally managing to lie back down, you stared up the ceiling when you heard the door finally shut gently. Sighing, you were about to let sleep take over you when something caught the corner of your eye.

Bucky was by the closed door, taking his shirt off over his head. You let out a shriek. “What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”

“You’re sick.” he replied nonchalantly, while kicking off his shoes, leaving him in his sweatpants and socks.

“And taking off your clothes is supposed to make me feel better?!” you were trying to support yourself with your elbow, facing his way. “And I meant that you close the door before leaving.”

“I don’t want to die of heat while taking care of you.” he replied in a duh tone before entering your bathroom to fetch some warm water in a basin.

You were still trying to process what he was getting at when he finally went back out, now basin with steaming water in hand.

“You got a clean towelette I can use?” has asked as he placed the basin on the foot of your bed.

“Yeah, it’s by the third dra- what the hell are you doing again?” you caught yourself as he was opening your drawers. “Because if you’re trying to kill me, doing it while I’m defenseless is just beneath you.”

“Didn’t think your IQ could get any lower but you’re sick so I’ll let this pass.” He rolled his eyes before soaking the cloth on the water. “I’m nursing you. Now lay flat and still so the cloth won’t fall off that forehead of yours.” he instructed, again sounding so casual.

You followed his orders before realizing that this whole ordeal was still very weird. “I’m sorry, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”

He went by your head and placed the cloth on your forehead, making you sigh at the warmth it brought your chilling form. “Steve will have my head if he finds out I knew you’re sick and let you die.”

You stared at him deadpan.

“And partners are supposed to be taking care of each other.” he muttered, making the side of your mouth twitch.

“If you tell anyone I said that I’ll kill you.” he lightly threatened when he noticed your mouth twitch.

“Fair enough. And I should probably tell you that I’m prone to get mentally confused when I have fevers which is a normal symptom, but just letting you know in case I start saying something nice.” you chuckled.

He went over your mini fridge and opened a bottle of water to drink.

You look at him, noticing that he was starting to sweat a lot from the heat. His skin was glistening making you mentally kick yourself from staring.

“You got underwear?” you found yourself asking, making him choke on his drink.

“What?”

“I-I’m just saying i-if you’re that hot, you can just take off your sweatpants and I won’t mind.”

“You’re saying I’m hot?” he chuckled, having fun twisting your words, making you flush. “Hey, color’s back on your face. Maybe I should get you all flustered more.” he teased further.

“Shut up Barnes, I meant that the room’s too hot for you because the AC is off. You’re sweating like a pig.”

“Save the excuses, Y/N. You won’t mind if I’ll just be in my boxers?” he smirked at you as he took his socks off and started working on untying the strings of his sweats.

“Puh-lease, Barnes, it may come as a shock to you, but I’ve seen enough men in boxers. You’re not that…”

You trailed off what you were going to say when you noticed that this was a different kind of boxers. Why were they so tight?

You thought he meant boxer shorts, not boxer briefs. Dammit.

“I’m not that…?” He asked.

“I forgot. Fever brain.” You shrugged, diverting your eyes away from him. “Anyway, why are you so nice to me? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” He contradicts, placing his hands on his hips.

“Uh, yeah you do.” you paused to let out a cough. “You always make fun of me or provoke me in front of everyone else.”

“And how do I treat you when we’re alone, especially in missions?” he raised his brows at you, expecting that you’ll put two and two together.

“A lot nicer actually.” You muttered.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that the team keeps insisting I have a crush on you.” he scratched the back of his head.

“That’s ridiculous. Why would they even think that?” you chuckled.

“It’s Sam’s fault. He tricked me.”

“What?”

“He was being all hypothetical, saying what if I was only allowed to date someone from the team and who would I choose. And I uh… may have said I’d choose you. And everyone else heard.” He muttered the last part, embarrassed.

It was your turn to smirk at him. “And why me?”

“Stop that. You look like a smirking corpse.” he snapped at you defensively and cleared his throat. “It’s just that you were actually really nice to me when we met. Didn’t feel like you were masking apprehensiveness like everybody did when I first got here.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on me.” you had the courage to tease him, seeing how flustered he got from telling the story.

“This is not how you treat your nurse, Y/N.”

“Yeah, a nurse in his underwear. Very ethical. And I’m not your supervisor, but I think brooding is not advisable.”

“And now as your nurse, I would advise you to quit talking and get some sleep.” he playfully glared at you. “I’ll be by the chair to constantly check on your temperature and replace the cloth on your forehead.”

“I really appreciate what you’re doing, Barnes. I’m starting to think the team’s right.”

“Ma’am flirting with patients and vice versa is frowned upon. Now sleep.”

“Fine.”

——–

While you were finally snoozing for over an hour, gentle knocks were heard on your door.

Standing up from his chair, Bucky quickly made his way over the door to prevent more knocks from disturbing your sleep, forgetting that he was still only in his boxer briefs.

Opening it slowly, he was met with three pairs of wide eyes belonging to Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Hey you guys, could you keep it down? Y/N is getting some rest.”

“Uhuh… I bet she needs it.” Sam replied slowly, still wide-eyed, noting how Bucky’s slightly sweaty.

“So… when did this happen?” It was Steve’s turn to speak up.

“Oh, just this morning. She was running late and I came here with the intention of punishing her for it but I ended up taking care of her.” He explained in a low voice, still oblivious to how their teammates were getting a totally different idea.

“Woah.” Nat muttered under her breath.

“Yeah, I guess her muscles are all sore because she was moving so weakly, and her voice is all hoarse now when she talks, and -”

“Look we’re happy for you, but TMI, Buck! TMI.” Steve cut him off and the three of them scrambled away from your room, with Sam muttering he didn’t need the unwelcomed visuals, and Nat screaming for Wanda.

Now left alone and confused by the doorway, he was trying to figure out why they reacted that way when it finally clicked.

“Fuck.” he whisper-yelled, knowing that the teasing was about to get worse.

——–

Final Part

Permanent tag list: @lizzarooni

Marvel Masterlist

1K notes · View notes