To Everyone Who WANTS To Work Out And Be More Active, But Can’t Make It Out Of Bed Bc Or Depression

tw: meantions of alcohol and addiction

Mike used to drink. It was a problem. It was a habit he picked up from his dad that got worse after moving to California. before he met the guys, he was on his own, struggling and homeless. He didn’t drink constantly, rather when things were going bad, he’d stay out until the bar closed.

After the Monkees all moved in together, he tried to hide it, but they caught on pretty quick. Davy had sat him down and said that this was something he didn’t have to (and shouldn’t) face alone. They helped get into a support group and found that it was easier to substitute the alcohol for something else whenever Mike wanted it. Coke-a-Cola seemed to do the trick. That’s how the Monkees came to having Coke in the house at all times. Some weeks they would sacrifice groceries to buy it because Mike being healthy was the most important thing to them.

Now they are all sworn off of alcohol. None of them drink. Sometimes Mike feels like falling into old habits, especially after a harrowing adventure, but he looks around at the guys to remind himself he’s not in that place anymore, he is okay and doesn’t need the old habits, he has new ones. Then he’ll sit down and noodle on the guitar or play around with the boys. He knows they all have each other’s backs.

DAVY! ooh... Hi!

Wait. Personality test. Reblog with whether you hate it when someone sings along to the music in the car or you think singing along is cool. Personally, I HATE it.

Just a little Steddie thought, let me know if you want more. quick disclaimer, this has a dyslexic mc who has some internalized bullying for it. I am dyslexic and this was based off of my personal experience with dyslexia, though it’s different for everyone, by no means is this a universal truth or accurate description for the entire population of people who are dyslexic.

Steve wandered through the empty isles of Family Video, scanning the titles to make sure they were all in their correct places. He absently read the titles aloud under his breath as he went along.

“The G-od Fa-th-er.” He unscrambled the letters of the name in his mind, he barely noticed it anymore, though when he heard his own voice saying the titles aloud he stopped. A memory came to the front of his mind.

Nancy scanned the library shelves, the top of her head tucked under Steve’s chin. She gave a little sigh. “Steve? Don’t read the titles aloud, remember? It’s really distracting. It’ll go faster anyway if it’s in your head.” She turned her chin up at him to give a little smile.

“Sure, sorry Nance.” He knew that it would be harder to figure the words out without sounding them out, but it was fine. He was really just here for Nancy anyway.

Steve closed his mouth, chewing on his bottom lip as he continued to scan the titles, saying the words in his head like if he was speaking out loud.

“The Godfather.” Someone said beside him.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

Eddie stood next to him, hands folded behind his back as he leaned on the balls of his feet toward the shelf. “That’s a good movie.” He continued down the line, reading the titles aloud. “The Goonies,” he kept up reading the titles out, making the odd comment about them. Eventually he came across one that was misshelved and Steve plucked it off.

Putting on his “King Steve” face, Steve turned toward Eddie. “Are you mocking me?” Could people just not leave him alone? He knew he wasn’t that bright, but did everyone have to keep reminding him? His face was heating up as he stood there.

Eddie’s head snapped up, looking at Steve with wide eyes. “What? No! Nope, no, no. I was just… I also read titles aloud and… well-“

“I looked like I needed help? Well, I don’t, thanks.” Steve shouldered past the other guy, making a b-line for the correct shelf. What an asshole.

“That’s not it. Wow, this is all going the wrong way.” He rocked his head up and down and absently brought his hands around his ears. “It’s stupid, but I thought it was cute- not in a condescending way! Just in a… normal way…” Eddie looked at Steve through his lashes.

“So you are making fun of me.” He slammed the VHS in its correct space, looking at Eddie with a face that screamed “I’m tired of your bullshit.”

“No! No, Steve. You’re taking this all wrong. I was reading the movie titles out loud because I was listening to you and following along to see which movie I wanted to watch, then you stopped and I just kind of… picked up where you left off. I wasn’t thinking about it, it was just kinda automatic. Sorry.” Eddie scratched the back of his neck and held one hand out toward Steve, it’s intention unclear.

“Oh. Okay.” Was all Steve could come up with as a response. “As far as movies go, have you seen Back the the Future?”

Eddie shook his head. “I have not.” He grinned at Steve.

“No way! You have to see it, it’s a great movie. I watch it, like, once a week.”

“It really must be good.” He dug the toe of his boot into the tile floor, looking down for a moment before putting on a devilish grin. “Wanna watch it with me? If you haven’t already seen it this week, that is.”

Steve tilted his face up, looking at Eddie down his nose in a considering manner. He rocked his head side to side. “Yeah, okay. My place tonight?”

“Yeah! Wait, I don’t know where you live.” Eddie pulled his hair in front of his mouth.

“You could hang around till the end of my shift if you want. You can follow me home.” Steve found the movie and walked up to the counter, sliding it over to Robin.

She groaned. “Not this movie again, Steve. How could you enjoy watching a movie so many times. Especially considering what happened the first time-“ Robin’s eye shot toward Eddie and she cut herself off.

“We’ll, Eddie hasn’t seen it.” Steve shot back. “I’m just going to educate him.” He snatched the movie away from his friend after she processed it.

Robin just rolled her eyes.

Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet behind Steve’s back. This was going to be the longest shift ever.

Sometimes anti-fascism means showing solidarity with those targeted and dehumanized by fascists by hitting up their restaurants for a meal!

Jork Sick Fic!

[alt-text image description: a boy with mid length hair lays on a couch sleeping. He is dressed in day clothes and had his arms wrapped around himself. He used his jacket as a pillow.] Davy struggled to wake up, his body was cold and achy like garbage that had been frozen then left to thaw on the kitchen counter. His head pounded and throbbed. Micky had left the curtains open and sunlight assaulted Davy’s eyes. In his head he cried and shunned about being awake, but he threw his legs over the side of his bed and looked around an empty room. It must have been late if Micky was already up.

Feeling woozy, he stumbled down the stairs, chills breaking over his skin like waves. He clung onto the railing as the tight spiral of the stairs made him feel sick as he descended.

Micky and Mike were leaning against the counter with mugs of coffee, Mike leaning the small of his back against it with his hands curling over the edge, Micky propping his hip against it as he watched Mike wraptly as they chatted. Peter sat at the piano, plinking around on the keys and humming to himself.

Maybe Davy would feel better if he got something to eat. Leaning around Mike, he put the kettle on then crouched to retrieve the cereal. His whole body ached and protested. Davy rested his forehead against the cabinet door for a moment, forgetting what he’d opened the cabinet for.

“Alright there, Dave?” Micky asked, tucking his chin to his chest as he looked at his smaller friend.

“M’fine.” Davy snatched the cereal and stood, rolling his neck and shoulders. “Just a little under the weather.”

Mike put the back of his fingers (usually warm, but cold now) to Davy’s check. “You’re awfully pink and warm. Maybe you should go back to bed.” His signature concerned frown hung over his deep eyes. He watched Davy closely as he sipped his coffee.

“Thanks, Mum.” Davy said sarcastically. He poured a small bowl of cereal and opened the fridge to get the milk. They were out, so he turned back to his breakfast, picking a couple flakes up with his fingers and popping them in his mouth. He crossed the too bright room to the piano, placing his bowl on the top as he faced Peter.

Peter sat rocking, his shoulders hunched around his ears as he played and hummed, working out some time or another. Davy reached out and tapped his head to get him to look up. When Peter did, Davy put a spoonful of corn flakes in his mouth. As he put the spoon in, Peter was already changing the melody, playing “When I’m 64” by the Beatles. He laughed around his mouthful and sang “Will you still need me? Will you still feed me? When I’m 64?”

Davy couldn’t help but chuckle too. He ruffled Peter’s lovely hair and collapsed backward on the couch feeling like he wanted to peel his skin of. Could he not get warm? He wrapped a blanket around himself. Around this time the kettle whistled. He saw Micky moving to prepare his tea and spring up to make it himself. It was no offense to the others, but they couldn’t make a good cup of tea to save their lives. Davy seriously hoped that that would never have to come up in their crazy lives.

Davy retrieved the earl grey from the nearly bare cabinet overhead. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to reach Peter’s herbal, but couldn’t reach. He hated when the others put stuff on the top shelf.

Micky reached up and got the box of tea down. “Need a hand there, shorty?” His face contorted in pain as Davy kicked him in the shin. “Ooh ow.” He hopped around on one foot, clutching his assaulted shin.

As he prepared his tea, Davy felt Peter stroke his hair as he slipped in beside him to prepare his own cup. They stood quietly preparing their tea. Davy juggled the sugar and the blanket around his shoulders. A wave of chills hit him even as he could see his arms flushed with fever. He closed his eyes against the bright room. He could hear Peter moving beside him, picking up the mugs and nudging him.

“Come on, David.” He butted tue top of Davy’s head with his chin like a cat before crossing to the sofa.

Davy trailed behind Peter, not realizing he was shivering. When he sat, Peter pulled his into his side saying something about always wanting a cuddle when he wasn’t feeling well. Micky murmured something to Mike, mentioning Davy’s name, his whispy voice carrying but too quite to be understood fully.

Davy wasn’t sure how long he’d laid on the couch wishing he could fall asleep. Eventually Peter got up and Davy swallowed the space where he had been, smooshing his face into the cushions. The others must have gone outside because the pad was mercifully quiet. He drifted off.

Davy woke the work was dark all except a light on in the kitchen. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes. At his feet he saw Peter, asleep on his arms at the foot of the couch where he was propped resting his head and arms on the cushion as he sat on the floor, face turned towards Davy.

Smiling, Davy gently slid off of the couch, careful not to disturb Peter, and padded into the kitchen. Mike was there, brewing his first cup of coffee. The clock read 5:30 am. Davy rubbed his eyes again and gave a sleepy nod to Mike.

“He been there all night?” Davy asked, nodding toward Peter. His voice was soft a croaky from sleep.

“Yup. Trying to look after you.” Mike nodded then fixed Davy with a serious look. “You be careful with Pete.” There was a low level of warning in his voice. Mike knew how much Peter cared for Davy, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to happen to make him unhappy. Mike was fiercely protective of Peter. He was tired of watching the world hurt him.

Davy nodded. “I will be.” He said softly, not looking away from the sleeping boy. His shoulders slumped as he looked, he trembled slightly. How could Peter be so gentle? Why would he even look twice at Davy? Davy didn’t know, but was grateful to have such a friend. Well, friend didn’t feel like the right word. Davy didn’t know quite what they were, but he didn’t much care, he was just glad to have Peter for as long as he was allowed. Davy crosse back to the couch kneeling by Peter. He ran a hand through his hair and down his h Sh eek. “Peter, wake up. Time to go to bed.”

“David?” Peter’s voice was cracked and tired.

“Yeah, Pete. I’m okay now. Time for you to go to bed.” Davy smiled softly at Peter in the dark and put an arm around him, leading him upstairs. Though his head still swam and throbbed, he smile as he tucked Peter into bed. “Good night, Sweet Pete.”

Peter hefted a sleepy sight and closed his eyes, rubbing the fabric of Davy’s shirt between his fingers before his arm fell limp to the bed.

Shaking his head, Davy crawled to his own bed, still shivering a little, but allowing himself to watch Peter as his chest rose and fell. Davy counted the breaths until he fell asleep.

Peter & Davy in Head

Henray PSA

Nickelodeon officially put out a video stating that Henry’s “true love” is actually Ray. It’s in the last minute and a half of the video titled “Who Was Henry’s True Love??” It was posted about 4 months ago. Check it out on YouTube! Here’s a link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=JD5pYtHgvjQ

Happy watching! ALSO this is a discussed relationship after he’s left for Dystopia, so he is an adult by this time.

Mike: *watches as Micky misjudges the distance and air plain dives into the dirt. Lifts sunglasses off eyes* Now why would you go and do a thing like that?

Micky: If I run and jump at Mike, he’ll definitely catch me. Watch.

Micky: *charges towards Mike*

Mike: NO I’VE GOT COFFEE— !

Mike: *drops coffee and catches Micky*

Pretty boy getting a ride 🩼🚙💨

Purely self indulgent thing. I broke my leg recently and was told I should draw Steve in a cast too, not to feel so lonely and I did 🤭

🔪🔪🔪 в вк не репостить🔪🔪🔪