psychoticallykind

[psychoticallykind]

Just thoughts. Mostly about that one character in 'The Girl Who Can Fly', because I relate to her a lot.

I don't know if anyone here read 'The Girl Who Can Fly'?

If you did, you'll know who I'm talking about. If you didn't, I'll explain it enough.

So, in the book, there's this girl. She's not the main character, but she's one that I remember the most. I think her name was Bella or something like that - I don't know, I read it a long time ago. Anyway, Bella had the ability to create light or rainbows (I don't remember the specifics). And one day, she mentally broke because of what was happening in the story (the people she trusted were actually experimenting on children and deliberately trying to take away what made them special). And there is this scene in the book where they find her during this meltdown - she's spinning around, tears streaming down her face, absolutely devastated as she colors everything. It looks beautiful, and she's shattering apart.

That's when they take her away, and they destroy that ability, and her spirit along with it.

Anyway. There's a point here.

Sometimes, I feel like that girl, in that moment. Like I'm creating all of the color and light and positivity I can possibly manage, because the world is burning and there are evil people and I am in so much pain, but all I can do is create.

So I do.

I write, and I create, and I help where I can. Because the world is burning, and I can't fix that, and sometimes I can't breathe through the smoke.

Sometimes I have to create in order to breathe.

But I don't need to breathe to create.

[psychoticallykind]

Reposting because I linked the art and it looks so good! Please go give support to the artist, everything looks amazing!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64459171/chapters/165514534

This is my fic for the @jegreversebang.

Inspired by amazing art done by @hagridspumpkinpatch.

Link to the Incredible Art

Thank you so much to the mods of @jegreversebang for this opportunity, it was so much fun.

[psychoticallykind]

Trigger warning: politics

But also I think this seems like good advice.

Please drink water and eat a snack if you haven't had food in the past 5 hours.

[psychoticallykind]

One of the kids (one of my favorites) at the school I work at just called me 'fairy godmother' and I am so happy about that.

[psychoticallykind]

Oh, you're lovely. Thank you. I love you a bit.

Having multiple neurodivergences is actually, sometimes, not fun. I can't listen to videos because they're overstimulating. I don't like the silence because it's understimulating. I can't stay still, but fidgeting is aggravating me. My clothes are bothering me. I need to do stuff. I have no actual motivation to do stuff.

I think the sensory issues are about to win, though, and I'll move to change clothes.

[psychoticallykind]

Wow. 83.9%?

Poor Nico.

I wasn't going to give that character a concussion. I wasn't. But, I mean...logically speaking, it would make sense. His head just smacked against a brick wall.

This one is Solangelo.

I have made my choice, but I'm curious...what would your vote be?

[psychoticallykind]

Having multiple neurodivergences is actually, sometimes, not fun. I can't listen to videos because they're overstimulating. I don't like the silence because it's understimulating. I can't stay still, but fidgeting is aggravating me. My clothes are bothering me. I need to do stuff. I have no actual motivation to do stuff.

I think the sensory issues are about to win, though, and I'll move to change clothes.

[psychoticallykind]

Rosekiller Microfic - @rosekillermicrofic - Prompt: Palm - 156 words

Barty stared at the ceiling, forcibly taking deep breaths.

Evan dropped down beside him. "Hands."

Barty complied without looking, and Evan put something in the palm of his hand, placing a glass in the other. "Take it."

A gulp of what was apparently apple juice later, the pill was gone. Barty handed the glass back, returning to focusing on his breathing.

"Any better yet?"

Shaking his head would have been disastrous, so Barty risked speaking. "No."

Evan hummed in acknowledgement, carefully sitting down on the mattress and pulling Barty's head into his lap. He gently massaged at his temples, putting just the right amount of pressure. "Meds should kick in soon."

Barty - who usually had an abundance of words - was knocked down to one. "Okay."

True to Evan's word, the medicine did kick in twenty minutes later. And when Barty woke up again, finally free from the horribly persistent migraine, he hadn't moved from his spot.

[psychoticallykind]

Sweaters

Wolfstar Microfic - @wolfstarmicrofic - prompt: truth - 448 words

"James!"

"What?"

"Where is my sweater?" Remus asked, aggravated. "I swear, it's the third one this week and I'm getting ready to kill someone."

James held his hands up. "It wasn't me. But let me know if you want help searching later, yeah?"

"Fine," Remus grumbled, still searching his trunk. At least half of his sweaters were missing.

The door opened behind him.

"Moony!" Sirius greeted him. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my sweaters," Remus replied, grumbling. "They keep disappearing."

It took him a minute to realize Sirius had gone silent.

Remus frowned in concern, turning. "Padfoot?"

Sirius was already watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read. "Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"With me?" Sirius asked. He shrugged, stepping backward. "Nothing. I'm good. Actually, I'm going to go downstairs, because Lily -"

"Nuh-uh," Remus denied, stepping in his way. "The truth, please. Why are you all quiet?"

Sirius hesitated. "My throat hurts?"

Remus raised his brows, and Sirius winced.

"Ihaveyoursweaters," Sirius mumbled quickly.

Remus blinked. "What?"

"I have your sweaters," Sirius said again, sucking in a sharp breath. He looked worried. "I didn't mean to. I just - actually, it doesn't matter. I'll give them back, they're in my trunk -"

"Woah, stop." Remus grabbed his wrist, stopping the other boy before he could move. "Why are you taking my sweaters?"

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, a blush appearing on his pale skin. "They help me sleep."

"They help - are you having nightmares again?"

Sirius nodded, eyes still closed.

Remus sighed. "Sirius, look at me."

"Mm, I'd rather not," Sirius said.

"We're dating," Remus pointed out.

Sirius nodded. "I'm aware."

"You have blanket consent to sleep in my bed," Remus continued.

Another nod.

"So why," Remus asked. "Are you taking my sweaters?"

Sirius huffed, eyes opening. "Because it's easier to take a sweater and force myself to calm down than to wake you up and ruin your night."

Remus felt a wave of affection for the dark-haired boy. "Sirius."

His eyes closed again. "Please don't say it."

"I love you," Remus continued. "And you aren't ruining my night by waking me up."

Sirius tipped his head back, studying the ceiling. "Uh-huh."

"Don't uh-huh me, you repressed idiot." Remus let go of his wrist, manually tipping his head back down. "I love you."

Sirius only slightly winced that time. "I love you, too."

"That's nice," Remus said. "How about you accept that I want to help you, yeah?"

Sirius moved, ducking so that his face was hidden in Remus's - least favorite - sweater. "Okay."

"Thank you." Remus could feel Sirius's heartbeat racing the way it always did when he had to talk about emotions. "You can keep the sweaters if you want."

[psychoticallykind]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64459171/chapters/165514534

This is my fic for the @jegreversebang.

Inspired by amazing art done by @hagridspumpkinpatch.

Link to the Incredible Art

Thank you so much to the mods of @jegreversebang for this opportunity, it was so much fun.

[psychoticallykind]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65046463

This is my fic for the @jegreversebang.

Inspired by beautiful art done by @autistpride - I highly recommend you go look at it, it's amazing. (Linked Below, isn't it so pretty? I love it.)

They also have an Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/autistpride?igsh=MTFrdWN1bDJoYnBmNQ==

Thank you so much, @autistpride for the amazing art, and thank you @jegreversebang for the fun opportunity.

[psychoticallykind]

Me, doing a task, arguing with my sibling.

My mother comes, takes my arm, starts to pull me away.

Me: Wait, what are you - I'm -

My Mother: Yes, I know, but my narcissistic personality says that my thing is more important.

Me, internally: Well, at least you're self-aware.

[psychoticallykind]

I wasn't going to give that character a concussion. I wasn't. But, I mean...logically speaking, it would make sense. His head just smacked against a brick wall.

This one is Solangelo.

I have made my choice, but I'm curious...what would your vote be?

[psychoticallykind]

Thank you. You're so nice, and I feel a little better about it now.

I saw a spider (have a horrible phobia).

Screamed on reaction.

Paused.

Verbally, out loud, asked myself, "Do you feel better now?"

Still watching the spider, replying to myself, "Yeah, kind of."

I pull shoes on.

The spider moves.

I no longer feel better.

I grabbed poison but it's not specifically for spiders.

I spray.

It runs.

The spider is now under the bed. I am now on the bed. I'm on my period and I have a headache from the poison and I am very scared of the spider.

Someone please tell me it's dying. I sprayed it with Raid.

It's almost midnight, I'm already sick, and I have work in the morning.

It's dying, right?

[psychoticallykind]

I saw a spider (have a horrible phobia).

Screamed on reaction.

Paused.

Verbally, out loud, asked myself, "Do you feel better now?"

Still watching the spider, replying to myself, "Yeah, kind of."

I pull shoes on.

The spider moves.

I no longer feel better.

I grabbed poison but it's not specifically for spiders.

I spray.

It runs.

The spider is now under the bed. I am now on the bed. I'm on my period and I have a headache from the poison and I am very scared of the spider.

Someone please tell me it's dying. I sprayed it with Raid.

It's almost midnight, I'm already sick, and I have work in the morning.

It's dying, right?

[psychoticallykind]

When you get this, list 5 songs you like to listen to, publish them, and send this ask to the last 10 people in your notifs

Songs are wonderful, I like songs.

Here are five that make me smile, in no particular order:

la di die - Nessa Barrett (feat. Jaden Hossier)

2. Not about Angels by Birdy

3. The Man Who Can't Be Moved by The Script

4. Sweet but Psycho by Ava Max

5. Forever and Ever and Always by Ryan Mack

[psychoticallykind]

Perfect

A Jegulus Fic, because awful people exist.

Hurt/Comfort; mention of murder

1,391 words

James knew something was wrong the second he stepped inside the apartment.

"Reg?" He called out quietly, glancing into the living room and kitchen as he passed them. As expected, Regulus wasn't there, so he kept moving.

The bedroom door was cracked, and James pushed it the rest of the way as he stepped forward. "Reg, baby? Hey," he reached the bed, frowning in concern as he took in his boyfriend's position.

Regulus was curled up, face pressed into a pillow. He was on top of the comforter, but his arms were wrapped tightly around his sides as if he were cold.

There was a small, pained sound, and James sat down carefully on the edge of the mattress.

"Hey, love," he said softly. "Can I touch?"

The dark curls shifted as Regulus nodded, not lifting his face from the pillow.

"Thank you." James rested his hand on Regulus's back, rubbing small circles into the tense muscles. "Did something happen?"

Regulus mumbled something.

"I didn't quite get that," James admitted.

He felt Regulus take a deep breath, and then his head lifted a couple of centimeters. "I'm in hell."

Then he dropped back down, and James wasn't any closer to understanding what had happened. But that was okay - he didn't need to know why Regulus was in pain. He only needed to know that he was.

"Can I hold you?"

He waited for the nod before shifting, lying down and pulling Regulus into his chest.

The action jostled Regulus's face from the pillow, and he was quick to turn and bury it in James's sweater instead.

James hummed, using one hand to massage his neck. "I'm sorry you're in hell." He smiled softly, though Regulus couldn't see it. "I'll come be in hell with you, if it'll help."

There was a sniffle, and James had to suppress a sharp spike of alarm.

"I can read to you?" he offered.

Regulus shook his head, and James felt his hands curling up in his sweater.

"Okay," James agreed quietly. "No reading. Just cuddles, then?"

"Mm," Regulus hummed.

James gave him a quick squeeze. "Sounds perfect, love."

They stayed that way for a while. James wasn't sure how long, and he didn't care.

Every once in a while, Regulus would sniffle, but he wouldn't let James see his face.

Eventually, he took another deep breath, but still didn't move.

"Would you really?"

James hummed, rubbing circles into his lower back. "Would I really what?"

The answer came in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Go to hell for me."

"Of course," James replied honestly. "I'd do anything for you."

There was a long pause, and he wondered if that was all Regulus had wanted to say.

Then he leaned back, tipping his head to look at James for the first time since this morning, and James's breath caught.

Regulus looked exhausted. Tired and pale, with redness on his cheeks that James knew came when he'd been crying for a while. There were dried tear tracks that hadn't been wiped away, and Regulus's bottom lip looked swollen, like he'd been biting on it over and over.

Long eyelashes blinked up at him. "Would you kill someone for me?"

If anyone else had asked, James would have said he really wasn't the killing type.

But for Regulus?

Well. That was different.

James half-smiled, gently wiping at one of the tear tracks. "I told you." His hand moved down, sliding under Regulus's jaw. "I'll do anything for you."

Regulus smiled at that. It was small, and it didn't erase the redness from his eyes, but it was something and James was so grateful for that.

Then he tipped his head, leaning into James's touch. "Would you kill her for me?"

"Absolutely," James promised, meeting his eyes. "Who am I killing?"

The smile grew, and Regulus dipped his head back down to hide in James's sweater.

The words were quiet, but not unsure. "My mother."

"Oh, completely yes," James replied. He squeezed Regulus tight. "Absolutely. One hundred percent. Can I call Remus? He'll be furious if I don't let him help."

There was a quiet snort. "You sound so enthusiastic."

"I am," James replied. "I'm so fucking thrilled, actually. Do you know how long I've spent hoping your mother would die in a car crash? A lightning storm? A random freak accident?"

Regulus was shaking with silent laughter now, but James wasn't done.

"Sometimes I imagine it when I'm having a particularly bad day," James informed him. "You know - the headlines in the news? 'Walburga Black, found dead, mourned by none'. Always makes me smile."

Regulus was grinning now, no longer hiding. "Really?"

"Really," James confirmed. He grinned back at his boyfriend, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his forehead. "Just tell me when you want it done, love, and I'll make it happen."

Regulus kissed his nose. "Thank you."

James laughed. "I haven't done it yet."

"I know," Regulus replied, cuddling closer. "But I believe that you would. If I asked."

"Without hesitation."

There was a sharp inhale. "She was in the news today."

"Oh?" James asked. "Not because she's dead, I'm assuming."

Regulus snorted. "Unfortunately not, no." He bit gently at James's skin. "She was interviewed for something. Apparently, my dear mother has some strong opinions on the trans community."

James hummed. "I can't imagine they were fun to read."

"They weren't," Regulus confirmed. He sighed. "I shouldn't have clicked on it."

"Maybe not," James agreed.

Regulus nodded, expression hidden. Then he shifted, lying flat on his back, and James could see everything again.

"She's just - she's such a dreadful person," Regulus said to their ceiling. He was frowning. "And realistically, I know that nothing that comes out of her mouth is going to be good or right or compassionate. But I still - I still read it. I still listen to it. And it still hurts."

"It hurts to know that she doesn't see me as a valid human being, and it hurts to know that she's always going to be a part of my story," Regulus continued. He sucked in a sharp breath. "And I hate that she exists. I hate that she's out there, giving interviews and clinging to fame and thinking that she's right. I hate that there are people who agree with her. I - I hate -" he stopped, shaking his head.

"Her?" James asked.

"Yeah." Regulus laughed, but there was no humor to it. "Awful, isn't it? To hate the person who gave you life?"

"No." James shook his head. "Not awful. Reasonable, I think, when that person happens to be as cruel and twisted as she is." He kissed Regulus's cheek. "There are people who agree with her, and that's terrible. She's terrible. But there are so many people who don't. Like you. And me, and Sirius, and Remus, and Barty, and Evan, and Pandora, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and Mary, and Lily, and my mom, and my dad, and Peter, and -"

"Are you going to list all of the people we talk to?" Regulus asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

James shrugged. "If you need me to, then yeah." He tugged Regulus back into a hug, wrapping him securely in his arms. "I'm sorry she exists. I'll kill her if you want."

Regulus huffed out a laugh. "Maybe. Not right now, though."

"Well, alright," James replied. "What do you want right now, then? Anything. I'll get it."

"Mm." Regulus kissed his collarbone. "Maybe you can cook dinner and we can watch a movie on the couch?"

"That sounds perfect," James replied. He nudged Regulus until he shifted, lifting his head.

Then he kissed him, soft and slow. Not to lead to anything, or to prove anything. Just because it was Regulus.

They were both a little out of breath when they separated, but James didn't care. He kissed Regulus's nose, his cheeks, his forehead. Over and over until Regulus was laughing again.

"You're perfect," James promised him. "So perfect. I love you. I'm going to cook the best dinner for you. And dessert. And breakfast. Any meal, actually, ever, for the rest of your life."

Regulus's whole face was burning red now, and he playfully shoved James away. "Let's start with dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah," James agreed. He smiled at his lovely boyfriend. "Anything you want."