i was really lazy with this one forgive me im ill

anonymous asked:

Peter is short on money - living paycheck to paycheck, barely enough to keep himself afloat much less eat as much as he probably should bc of Spidey work & his metabolism. Burns though calories like they're nothing. Imagine Deadpool finding out that this precious bundle of light eats only 1 small meal a day, if he's lucky. He'd take him out to eat & stuff him to the brim every time they see each other and/or buy him bags of groceries & have him take them home, and/or hand him a wad of cash too.

[I shifted back and forth between present and past tenses way too much this time around and was too lazy to correct it, please forgive me! Also, I accidentally sort of wrote Peter and Wade’s first fight?? and they’re still not even dating yet. :0 Um, yeah. So here you go.]


Wade buys them both tacos and pizza in celebration of a successful day’s patrol. Peter doesn’t bother pointing out that there was far more goofing around than actual patrolling today because, dude, tacos and pizza. He always goes home later with a satisfactorily full stomach at the end of every “shift” with Wade. It’s one thing he misses almost as much as the man’s company itself every time the merc goes out of town for a few days on a job.

Wade nearly always buys way too much and fobs the leftovers onto Peter to take home, and more than once he’s “forgotten” wads of cash in the takeout bags as well—“change,” he tells Peter even though the younger man knows there’s no reason any sensible cashier would hand back this many twenties on a fast food order. Just like he knows it’s all because of that one time he unthinkingly mentioned how he hadn’t been able to eat his favorite breakfast cereal in the morning for days because he couldn’t afford more milk yet and he was grumpy about it.

The first time Wade did it was not exactly smooth sailing for either of them. Peter had only noticed the money after he got home and immediately had texted Wade about it. That was when the “change” excuse came up, followed way too quickly by, ‘u should hold onto it, buy yourself something fancy. finders keepers amirite? ;)’

Peter had only stared down blankly at the screen in his hand for a few moments, breathing heavily through his nose, and then carefully typed with what he considered to be an excellent amount of chill—no, his hands were most definitely not shaking, thank you very much—‘Wade Wilson, I am NOT your fucking charity case’ and flung the phone away from him halfway across his tiny apartment. Fortunately, it was the Stark phone and made of much sturdier stuff than the one Aunt May had saved up for him, so it didn’t so much as crack the screen, though there was a little chip at the corner of the casing from where it had knocked into the wall and left a dent in the drywall from the force of his throw.

The text notifications came pinging in one after another for a few minutes after that, though thankfully no ringtone. Wade was smart enough to know better than to call him in that moment.

Two hours later, Peter finally stretched himself out of the gargoyle-like pose he’d hunched himself into on the flimsy fold-out table, staring blankly at a random spot on its scuffed surface the entire time and thinking about nothing at all. The leftover fries had long gone cold and soggy by then. Standing and staring blankly at the phone on the floor for several more minutes then, he finally found himself shuffling forward and picking it up, waiting until he’d changed into his pajamas and huddled himself into his blanket nest on the bedroom carpet before swiping it on and reading the messages there.

- shit

- imsorryimsorryimsorry

- please don’t be mad. prolly too late huh? fUCK

- it’s not a pity thing i swear

- bb boi please talk to me

- please

The next text was timestamped twelve minutes later, which made sense. Peter thought he remembered during his blank time staring at nothing hearing a lull followed by a few more pings several minutes after the first round had stopped.

- ok. you’re probably not even reading these yet rn. that…yeah. that makes sense. i get it. ill try to quit bothering you but

-uh, lemme try to compose myself properly for a sec and get back to you.

Another later timestamp, this one another eight minutes after.

- Baby boy…I KNOW your not a fuckin charity case. The fact that you think I thought that means i fucked up bad. I’m sorry. Really REALLY sorry. You’re not charity. You’re fuckin Spiderman dude! You’re my goddam hero! You’re smart and quirky and badass and laugh at all my dumbass jokes. what’s not to cherish about that? i…ok yeah, I already said it anyway. I CHERISH you, ok? sorry if that’s a creepy af thing to say. its true. #bromance

- anyway. the money…I still don’t want it back. Hope that doesn’t make you madder. Like I said its not a pity thing, i just…I lose my FUCKING MIND thinking about you not eating for days alright?? that shit’s not ok. THAT’S WAY BEYOND NOT OK. sorry for yelling. shit. Look, Im gonna be way too real with you for a sec and I’m scared that’s gonna scare you off but I gotta…I was *this* close to stalking you so I could find where you live and stock ur fridge up before the boxes told me that was a really bad fucking idea. in hindsight handling it this way instead was a dick fucking move but I had to SOMETHING before I did something worse, you get me?

- shit, you’re probably freaked out now. Peter was not. i’d be freaked out if someone said that shit to me. sorry again.

- um…i’m really bad at this. obviously. I’m trying to be a good friend and instead I’m being a creepy mofo talking about stalking you and shit. Smooth Wade, smooth. Peter couldn’t help it—he snickered. I wouldn’t actually do it ok? I know your secret identity is important to you and I wouldn’t mess it up like that. I just…uh, tryin to illustrate a point, i guess. That THIS is important to me. You continuing to be your cute funny badass self and not keeling over from hunger pains. so…will you let me still feed you once in a while? pleeeeeeeease?? <3

At last, he got to the last text. Once again, another gap between the timestamps, though this one was only four minutes.

- Also I hope I didn’t weird you out too much with that stuff earlier and that we’re still friends. I understand if it was crossing the line though. If it was lemme know and i’ll never ever do anything like that again, Spiderman, promise. Cross my <3 and hope to die. Can’t die, but you get the point. Peter did, and he giggled again in spite of himself.

Peter couldn’t have explained to anyone in that moment what he was feeling. It seemed he’d run the gamut of them in the past few hours, going from indignant rage and depression earlier to feeling nothing, then guilty about the way he’d reacted as he read Wade’s apologies and attempts to explain himself, then at the same time really warmed and almost sort of bubbly to realize he meant this much to the older man, and okay, maybe a smidge weirded out too at certain parts, but even those were so sweet and genuine and quintessentially Wade that it made Peter even happier, which probably said something messed up about him too, but whatever. Human emotions were confusing and weird and stupid to Peter at even the best of times, so trying to figure out the perfect response here was turning quickly into a feat beyond imagining for him.

How to tell Wade that everything is fine now, that of course they’re still friends, and even that yes, embarrassing as it is for him to admit considering how much he already seems to rely on the older man to stay well-fed, he will continue to let Wade buy him food and even turn a blind eye the next time Wade wants to sneak him some extra cash because it really is extremely helpful and he knows he’s too proud to the point of stubborn to ask anyone for help when he needs it and he doesn’t want Wade to worry unnecessarily about him anymore? How? How do words?

Biting his lip softly, Peter types the only thing he can think of and hopes it’ll convey enough until he’s brave enough and coherent enough to say what he really needs to.

- It’s Spider-Man.

- With a dash and a capital M.

- Get it right, ya dork.

He continues to stare down at the screen, and not thirty seconds later sees the loading dots that mean Wade is typing. The man must have kept his phone close by this whole time just waiting for Peter’s response, and that makes him feel a bit more guilty for making him wait so long.

- well excuuuuse me, princess More loading dots mean Wade still has more to say.

- And the correct term is hyphen, thou illiterate nerd.

Peter dissolves into a fit of both laughter and tears, relief comingling with joy as the dam breaks, and he exhausts himself on them until he has none left to give. It feels good, like he’s glutted himself too much on just feeling, and Peter’s always been what his aunt would call a “sensitive soul” but even he didn’t know something like that was possible. It wrings him out dry like his panic attacks do, leaving him floating not on calm nothingness like he’s normally used to, but instead on a sense of profound contentment as he snuggles down deeper into his blanket nest and cradles his phone close to his chest before dropping right then into a warm, pleasant sleep.

anonymous asked:

Oh, Nini. You have no idea how happy I’d be if I had someone like you in my life. You’re my ideal friend. It may sound silly coming from an unknown person like me, but as I’ve said previously I really like you as a person. Again, I don’t know you personally but the small bits of personality that I get from the internet are enough for me to understand. Understand just how rare of a person you are. Rare in a positive way. I’ve withdrawn my personality my entire life,

(1) I’ve never got the chance to be myself with anybody for so many reasons (shyness, fear of being judged, being too exposed, giving too much and getting too little etc…), it sucks. I’m aware of my flaws, yet I’m not able to change. Just like at school; I know I could study more and ace those tests, yet I never give my best. Sometimes I think I’m too picky, delusional. People tell me that sometimes. I’m very observant, unfortunately,

(2) and I can’t bring myself to open up to people whose behavior I don’t like.. It’s stronger than me. I’ve tried to lower my standards, to get rid of expectations but it doesn’t work. I’m still depressed and lonely. It’s so exhausting. That few times where I get to meet nice people, I end up losing them. I’m not surprised about it though. I’m complicated. Everything I’ve ever wished for was a friend. A true one. Affection. Being understood.

(3) Differently from my friends I’m not searching for a lover. Just a friend. That’s it. But the problem is that I’m a walking contradiction. I’ve always been the cheerful, carefree and funny friend, a true extrovert. One would never tell I’m a bucket of depression, self-loathing and loneliness, because I can’t bring myself to open up. I tried with a psychologist, talking to her about all the shit that’s happened to me in my 19 years of worthlessness. But it didn’t change anything.

(4) She seemed like a plain worker to me, doing her everyday job, and I was just another patient. It was her job. She couldn’t give two shits. I wonder if there’s really something wrong with me. I’ll probably be unhappy for the rest of my life if I keep being like this. You give me hope sometimes. But then I realize that you are on the other part of the planet, which reminds me that people like you are rare and I probably won’t have the privilege to meet them. The chances are very low.

(5) *sighs* Now I’m here having an existential crisis. Sometimes I wish I was like some people I know; very close minded and shallow. They simply don’t think about certain things. Oh god, I’m rambling. I’m always sending you essays, ¾ very depressing ones. I’m so sorry about that Nini hahah forgive me! <3 ily (lost anon)

hello lost anon bub! firstly, im really flattered that you’d think so highly of me! but the truth is, im just like you. im a regular human, with regular flaws. ive been depressed and suicidal since i was 13, i have a major anxiety disorder, minor obsessive compulsive disorder, severe social anxiety, and come from an extremely abusive household. i am an immigrant, and the child of poor immigrants, who place an absurd amount of pressure on me to succeed. i grew up just above poverty level, and live with the constant burden of not doing well, of not succeeding, of disappointing people. those are just a few of the obstacles i have faced and continue to face in life. 

i do not tell you this to be like “my life is sadder and harder than yours” or give a lecture like that (in truth, i don’t know who you are, or what your circumstances are, and i’m not in a position to be lecturing anyone besides perhaps my sister when she dates an idiot boy). i tell you this to give you insight into some of the darker aspects of my life, and how, despite all of this, i have managed to carve a path for myself. ive been able to find good people, put myself in good situations, and work hard to take control of my life. at present, i am a bio major, premed in university, i am the undergraduate behavioral specialist at a neurobiology and epigenetics lab (ive been published twice in neurology in the last year), vice president of an organization that has a student-run free health clinic for the homeless, undocumented, and refugees, where i volunteer on the weekends and do social work, i do traditional and folk sri lankan dancing, i am a devout sinhala buddhist, and i also write some really wild stories for a really wild ship when i have a rare moment of free time. 

to repeat what i said in the previous paragraph– i dont say this to show off or try to tear you down, but to explain my personal situation. every single day is an uphill battle. every day, there’s a new challenge, something in my life that is trying to hold me back, prevent me from accomplishing the things i dream of doing. every single person has odds stacked against them– some more so than others, and some of them cannot be so easily resolved. every person has troubles, flaws, disabilities. but that does not give you an excuse to give up. that does not give you an excuse to feel sorry for yourself. 

self pity is very… seductive. it gives us a reason to be passive in our lives, to continue to let our issues overrun our lives. it’s easy. it requires absolutely no effort. it’s simple to stay in bed all day. it’s easy to go through the motions of life with blinders on, just feeling emotions and reacting to them in the easiest, knee-jerk way. 

this seems very strange, right? why would anyone want to do that? that doesn’t sound particularly fun to me. the truth is that everyone does this, to some degree, in various contexts. it’s easier to be passive than to take ownership of your actions. when things go wrong, it’s easier to pin the blame on other things, to say it couldn’t be helped. it’s a self-preservation tactic. my writing professor was actually talking about this in class today– he asked why so many people are so adamant about denying climate change. why is it, that despite nearly every scientist saying it’s happening, despite all the evidence around us, people continue to swear up and down that it doesn’t exist? 

its because admitting that there is a problem means taking ownership. it means that we suddenly become responsible. it means we get uprooted from our way of living, of behaving, and suddenly, we have to change what we’re doing. 

and most people are lazy. changing means putting in work. humans are inclined to routine, to efficiency and simplicity, to put in minimal effort and expect maximum results. it’s simple for us to fall into the sameness of life. changing requires courage, diligence, and a fuck ton of work. 

tumblr has a very toxic mentality when it comes to mental illness. it’s mostly about scoring as many pity points as possible. about complaining about an issue, but when faced with solutions and suggestions, immediately shutting down and making excuses, because being sad is more comfortable and more easy than trying to be introspective, working through issues, looking for solutions and acting upon them, despite the odds. 

it’s toxic, and to be frank, very boring. it doesn’t set a good example for neurodivergent people such as myself and so many others on this website who have to battle against these illnesses and disabilities every day. mental illnesses are tough enough to deal with on their own– it’s absolutely not conducive to be in an environment where passivity, apathy, and bitterness are encouraged, and normalized. because it tells us that it’s okay to let life go by, that it’s okay to let our issues consume us, that it’s okay not to care, that we should be malicious towards our feelings and be self-deprecative of our behaviors, while simultaneously continuing to promote them and excuse them. 

one of the reasons that i like namjoon so much and why he inspires me is because i have a “headcanon” (lets call it this, for fear of neurotypicals swarming my inbox telling me not to spread rumors) that he has depression. you know why it helps me so much? because he’s an inspiration to people like me and people who think and feel the way he does. here he is, facing such great odds, dealing with so much shit, on top of the depression, and yet, he’s so incredibly successful. despite all the shit he goes through on a daily basis, despite stumbling, making mistakes, being hurt, he gets up every day and does what he loves, and he lives passionately. and he succeeds

that’s the key part to that. he succeeds. he beats his odds every day and he’s been able to carve a life for himself– something he can look back on with pride, knowing he did this on his own, and with difficulty, which makes it that much more remarkable. 

if he can do it, why can’t i? whether it’s facing my social anxiety when doing presentations, or facing my abusive father, or feeling so emotionally drained that i can’t get out of bed to go to class or eat or anything, and the knife in the drawer suddenly seems so tempting to me. why is it, that the knee jerk reaction to having issues is to complain? to make excuses? to take a narrow-minded approach to life? 

life is so short, bub. it can end in the blink of an eye (and technically speaking, in the scope of the universe and time and space, it really does). so why do we have to be so apathetic? so cynical? what good does that do for us? instead of being receptive to good things, and trying really really hard, and actively pursuing betterment (positive deviance, as i like to call it), why do we continuously push it away? 

it is a choice. there is no “it can’t be helped”. no “it’s just how i am”. you will feel what you feel. emotions cannot be controlled. but you can control how you react to your emotions. which may seem like an abstract concept, since our feelings are our feelings. but we can control our actions, and what we do based on our feelings. if we feel sad, are we going to lie in bed all day? or are we going to take time to calm down, to center ourselves, and find a way to go through the day, giving ourselves little encouragements, and pushing back against our mind? if we are jealous, are we going to lash out in anger or isolate ourselves? or are we going to communicate, try to figure out the root of the issue and work through it, no matter how difficult it may be, both to open up, and to think critically about ourselves (not in terms of self-loathing, but rather in breaking apart why we do the things we do and feel the way we feel)? 

this isn’t some neurotypical “just try to be positive sweaty :-)” BS. this is me, telling you, that you have one life. you can either let it go by, or you can live it with meaning, with effort and awareness and diligence. i don’t have all the answers, and i dont think i know anyone besides myself well enough to pose the exact solutions that will work for them in their contexts. it’s something we must find for ourselves, by ourselves (and if you have the good fortune, with a professional or a trusted friend/mentor/guardian). 

i used to have existential crises all the time. it’s so easy, especially for our generation, to feel disillusioned and disenfranchised with ourselves and our lives. it wasn’t until i got to my writing class, and my professor started asking us questions at the beginning of the class. things like– “what do you love?”, “what do you hate?”, “what are you amazing at?”, “what are you passionate about?”, and the one that always gets me– “why are you even here?”. these questions are things that we should all ask ourselves, because i find that we find major gaps in our existence that way, and we start calling to question the way we’re living, and how little meaning we tend to attribute to our lives. but it can also be inspirational. in finding those “gaps”, we can make a choice in how we fill them. we create our own meaning and purpose. it’s an empowering thought. we have more control than the internet likes to tell us we do. 

being existential is fun and all, but being passionate, being grateful, being open-minded and sincere, being loving– both towards others and especially towards yourself– is so much more fulfilling. it takes work. nothing about this is easy. it’s probably one of the most difficult things to do, and i have to remind myself of this constantly (i actually put little post it notes in my daily planner at the end of every week, literally reminding myself of life’s worth). but it is so worth it. and you can do it. you’ll find that life suddenly becomes so much brighter that way. happiness is not a right. it is a privilege, given rarely and sparingly to those who work for it. so the question becomes– are you willing to work for it?

Live Stream Youtube Videos [Calum Hood]

Contains: Fluff

Requests: Open ^_^

Requested?: No

Summary: Yours and Cal’s fans wanted a live stream and after a lot of nagging, you finally do it. 

“if you screw this up Cal, I swear.” You say for the hundredth time. You hear your boyfriend chuckle as he sat beside you, watching you fiddle with your Nikon 360 cord to your computer.

“I wont. Or, Ill try really hard not too.” He says, correcting himself. You sigh. You were doing a live stream after what seemed like forever. Your fans always nagged you, asking for a video or live stream with Cal and finally, you made up your mind. You wrote down a list of things to do during the live stream. Things such as “the boyfriend tag” to “whats in my mouth?”. You sigh rubbing your forehead.

“Uh babe, the cameras flashing and the laptop camera turned on. Do you think the live stream started?” Calum asks. You look up and notice that the both of you were being recorded and watched by 500+ viewers.

“Shit.” You curse, flattening out your hair.

“Hi guys!! Its Y/N. I finally am doing a live stream. With my boyfriend-” You point to Calum.

“Calum Hood who just so happens to be in a lousy band called 500 years of winter.” You say, giggling. Calum rolls his eyes playfully.

“Its 5 Seconds Of Summer.” He says.

“Potato PotAto.” You say, emphasizing the a. Cal rolls his eyes.

“Whatever babe.” He replies making you chuckle. 

“So today-” You lurch for the list of activities you planned.

“We’re going to do a bunch of equests you guys sent. I picked out a couple so here goes nothing. Cal, pick a number.” You say. He contemplates for a number.

“6..” He trails off.

“Why that number?” You ask, your eyes fixed on the paper, trying to find number 6’s request.

“Because that was the number of the day we met.” He says. You look up at him and smile.

“You cheesy bastard.” You mutter making him laugh. You fumble. opening the request you jotted down earlier.

“What drives you crazy about one another?” You read out loud. You turn to look at Calum.

“You wanna go first?” You ask, rolling the paper and setting it down.

“Her laugh is so cute. Like I just wanna grab her by the waist and snuggle the shit out of her.” Calum says. You flush red.

“I think whenever Calum forgets to throw away the milk carton when its empty drives me nuts.” You said. Calum groaned.

“You sound like Ashton. And hey!! I try to be cute and you ruin my mojo!!” He moaned. You chuckled.

“But what about that one time where you woke up super early and forgot to put the carton away.” Calum added.

“Yeah. that one time. And it was like 4 in the morning and I had a meeting. I don’t function around that time.” You explain.

“You usually don’t function till about noon.” he mumbled. You gasped and hit him with a pillow.

“Your such a hypocrite. Your the one who wont wake till 2 in the afternoon!!” You exclaim. He smiles sheepishly.

“Trueee.”

The both of you went through requests for about another hour till you got tired and decided to call it a day. Shutting you laptop, you yawned.

“I need a nap.” You mumbled. Calum raveled his arms around your waist, planting lazy kisses on your collarbone.

“Cuddle?” He mumbled. You nod.

“Wouldn’t give up a day of cuddling with Clum, would I?” You said, holding in a giggle. Calum hated it when you called him Clum. It was all because of this one time when the both of you were texting and he referred to himself in third person and misspelled his name. He would never live it down.

“If you call me that one more time, no more cuddles for you.” He says, attempting to be serious.

“Oh dear me. I beg for you forgiveness dear Prince Clum!” You say, faking an accent.

“Y/N!!!” He groans. You laugh, flopping on the couch.

“Okay okay im sorry.”

————————————————————

You guys have no idea how long ive had this sitting in my drafts. Its sucky at the end. Im sorreh. Feedback would be nice :)

xx

★Thank you for 1000+ followers!★

1000+ already!?!?? it feels like only yesterday that i started this blog! time sure flies when youre having fun, huh? thank you so much for sticking with me all this time, even though my content as of late hasnt been exactly what you would call, uh, “quality”. i cant even remember what life was like before ichinyatsu…

maybe ill do a giveaway or something later, but for now i just wanna take a moment to thank all the people ive met along the way! INDIVIDUALLY OF COURSE!!! (am i crazy!? probably.. because im crazy for you guys! ♥)

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anonymous asked:

i don't know what to do. i fear allah more than anything but i make stupid decisions, specifically telling my mom that i read namaz when i don't and i regret it every time but i can't stop and i don't know what to do and when i actually read i usually don't give it enough effort and i don't know why i'm even being like this i'm so stupid :(

dude. i was LIiiiitTTTERAaaaLLLYYY in the same position as you about….a month ago? like i just never had the habit of praying, and lying came easier to me than actually praying. it came to the point where i wouldnt even realize it and i came to faking it so well that i near fooled myself. around mid february i just got sooooooooooo horribly depressed (u might remember i made a lot of posts asking for yalls prayers which!! def helped!!) like nothing was making me feel better and i had absolutely no motivation to do anything and idk i was in a bad place. i talked to kinza about it and honest to god she changed my perspective on it so much, like praying is the only thing we HAVE, its the only constant thing in our lives. praying is what separates us from others and makes us muslim. like without that what are we? i can wear hijab day in day out but if im not praying, what is the point? whats the point of fasting every day during ramadan if i can barely pray? and that one night i was texting kinza, i prayed isha and that one prayer changed me so much like i prayed for my LIFE, and i sat on the jaanemaaz and cried my heart out, and when i was done, i finally FINALLY felt better and felt some peace. and alhumdulillah x 100000000 ive been doing so much better. i slipped up here and there with missing a prayer, but i havent in about 2 weeks and im really proud of myself and so so so grateful. ofc i still have days where im just rushing and i pray just to do it, but im taking baby steps and basically reforming the habit, and iA ill be able to pray and do it with justice. 

my advice to you is to not miss this next one. pray and pray with your heart. ask Allah for forgiveness, and never stop because we never stop making mistakes. for as long as you feel guilt, and ask for forgiveness, Allah will forgive, and has kept your heart open. be scared for the day you dont feel that guilt anymore, and feel nothing from missing a prayer, bc i was there and its terrifying once you come to terms with it. just do it one day at a time, one prayer at a time, and iA we both can do it! <3