#I may be looking too much into all of this but seriously

[vbecker10]

The Night Nurse (Part 2)

Part 1 / Part 3 (in progress... I think this is doing to be 4 parts lol I love this request so much, I'm sorry it has taken on a life of its own @glitterylokislut)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You are the newly appointed night nurse for SHIELD and you couldn't be less excited about it. You have been given the side task of finding out who is stealing supplies from the infirmary. Soon after you start, you learn Loki is the one who has been slipping in at night to patch up his wounds and you confront him about why he can't heal as quickly as Thor. He reveals a dangerous secret he is keeping from the team and you worry increasingly for his safety as the two of you become closer over the next few weeks.

Warning: You asked for angst so I shall give you angst lol but also... some mentions of blood, minor injuries needing stitches, Loki generally feeling alone and isolated, arguing between you and Loki, very brief mentions of Loki's torture, Loki being an ass in the beginning, swearing, a pretty major injury towards the end but no one dies... a romantic ending was requested so of course there will be fluff and cuteness and whatnot

"There is something wrong with my magic," he tells you and your heart sinks. "It has been fading since I was taken by the Mind Stone."

"Wait... I thought they severed ties between you and the Mind Stone," you say in disbelief. "That was almost six months ago."

"They released me from the hold it had over me, yes," he says. He shifts uncomfortably on the exam table and you roll the stool you are sitting on closer to him.

You take his hand and he looks at you, "But its still affecting you?"

"I'm unsure how to describe it," he admits and you sit quietly, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. "Sometimes it feels as if the stone took a part of me when they removed it. Sometimes it feels like there may be a small piece of it that they somehow left behind," he pauses noticing the concered look on your face. "The majority of the time, thankfully, I feel completely myself."

You squeeze his hand, "I'm sorry Loki, this must be a horrible thing to deal with alone." He shrugs but you can almost see the weight on his shoulders. "You should to talk to someone. You can't keep all of this to yourself, it's too much."

"Can I talk to you?" he asks hopefully.

You smile, "Of course."

"And you cannot discuss what I tell you?" he checks again.

"Anything we talk about will stay between us," you promise him. "That's what friends do, right?" Wait, are we friends now? you think.

"Thank you," he nods with a smile then adds, "Would it be okay if we didn't talk about this any more tonight though?"

"Sure," you answer, afraid to push him further. You get up and roll the stool back to where it belongs. I'm glad he finally started talking to me, he really is dealing with so much, you think. He's going to get hurt if he keeps doing this, though. He needs to tell Thor or-

"I have told you, I cannot talk to Thor about this," he says suddenly as he gets up from the table.

"I didn't say-" you pause and turn to face him. "Did you seriously read my mind again?"

"Your thoughts are very loud," he replies as if that's an excuse.

"I don't even know what that means, but you can't keep doing that. It makes me feel like I can't trust you," you tell him crossing your arms. "And you should talk to someone, you could-"

"I had hoped to continue talking to you," he cuts you off, "But clearly that was a mistake."

"No, it wasn't a mistake," you follow him out of the room. "Loki, stop," you try to get his attention but he keeps walking away from you. "Listen to me, I'm worried about you getting hurt or worse. You can't keep going out into the field or even training with Thor if we don't find-"

"There is no 'we'!" he turns to face you quickly and you come to an abrupt stop. "It is my magic that is breaking, that is fading away and I need to figure it out on my own."

"Why?" you ask, becoming angry with him for his dramatic attitude shift. "Why can't I even try to help?"

"You are not even a full healer," he says in a harsh tone and you know he is referring to you being a nurse instead of a doctor. "You know nothing of my magic or of me. How could you possibly think you would be able to help?" he asks but he leaves you no space to respond. "And you do not need to concern yourself with my safety any longer."

"Wait, please," you reach for his arm but he vanishes before you are able to touch him.

The next night you sit cross legged on the floor trying to count packets of cotton balls as you take them from one box and put them in another. You pause, suddenly feeling as if someone is in the room with you.

"Y/N," Loki says in a quiet voice and you knock over one of the almost full boxes. You turn quickly to see Loki standing behind you.

You sigh and begin reaching for the packets, "If you need medical attention I will be with you in a minute. If you are here to yell at me again or tell me I'm useless, I'm busy. I don't have the energy to fight with you today."

"What if I am here to apologize?" he asks.

You look up at him and he tries to smile but you shake your head. "You can't keep being a dick and then acting like you're sorry. Maybe that's how it works on Asgard cause you're a prince but you don't get to treat me like crap and expect me to forgive you."

"I know," he says. He sits on the floor next to you, much to your surprise and begins to hand you the packages you can't reach. "I am truly sorry for last night, you did not deserve that. I know I can be a... a dick, was it?," he asks, trying to hold eye contact with you.

You nod and try not to let how upset he looks affect you.

"Hmm, I think that's the first time I've ever been called that," he says as if he is honestly thinking about it.

"To your face maybe," you shrug and he chuckles.

"That is probably accurate," he agrees but you don't respond. He nods, looking down at the floor as he becomes more serious. "Y/N, I shouldn't have lost my temper with you, I promise I will not do it again. I know you are only trying to help me and I greatly appreciate your concern although I am aware that I do not deserve it, especially not now."

You look down as well, fidgeting with the cotton ball packet in your hand. I want to forgive him but how can I be sure this isn't just his pattern? Is he going to continue to snap at me for no reason then apologize after? I want to help him and I'm so worried about him but I can't deal with that, you think.

"I understand if you don't wish to speak with me any longer," he says and you aren't sure if he read your mind or not. "But you were right. I do need someone and to be honest, I think I could benefit greatly from someone who tells me when I'm being a dick." He pauses then smile a bit, "That is such a dull insult don't you think?"

You can't help but laugh, "I wasn't really worried about being creative. It was more about getting my point across."

"It was a point well made," he agrees.

"If it helps," you say and he looks up at you hopefully. "I promise to call you something way harsher if you ever yell me again."

"I swear," he takes your hand, "I will not do that again." You nod at his words, allowing yourself to believe him.

He shakes his head, "It was not you I was upset with yesterday, I am upset with myself. Truthfully, I'm worried that I am not smart enough to figure any of this out and no one here understands magic. I'm afraid my magic will continue to fade or become more unstable over time and then I will be... I don't know who I will be without it."

"You'll still be annoying," you say without thinking and immediately regret it. He sighs and moves to get up from the floor but you reach for his arm, pulling him gently back down. "I'm sorry, my mouth is faster then my brain sometimes," you apologize. "I didn't mean that."

"You did," he says. "And it is okay. You are not the first person to find me difficult to deal with."

"You're not completely awful," you tell him with a smile. "And that's as much of a compliment as you're gonna get today."

"Well thank you," he laughs. "I'll take it."

"Good," you respond then stand up and he stands with you, "Cause I've got a lot of work to do and feeding your ego isn't on the list." You pick up your tablet and quickly log in the count on the cotton ball packets before you can forget how many there are.

"Are you really counting everything in here?" he asks looking into the open supply cabinet.

"Yep," you turn to him and put your hands on your hips. "Because someone was stealing supplies, remember?"

"Ah, right," he nods and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I am sorry about that."

"It's okay," you shrug. "At least I'll get to read when I'm done... so long as you don't hurt yourself in the meantime."

"I think I can manage that," Loki says. After a moment of watching you slowly gather all of the gauze onto a nearby table he asks, "Would you like some help?"

You look at him shocked, "Really? It's pretty boring."

"It's the least I could do seeing as how this is my fault," he reminds you and you decide to take him up on his offer.

The following night, you set your coffee on your desk and begin your paperwork. About twenty minutes later, you are almost finished and Loki knocks on your office door.

"Hello Y/N," he says with a smile and you can't help but feel excited to see him. "Before you ask, I am pleased to report I am all in one piece."

You laugh, "That's good to hear Loki. So what brings you to my super exciting corner of the Tower?"

"These," he conjures a small bouquet of flowers and your mouth falls open in shock.

"They are beautiful," you tell him as you get up slowly and he walks towards you.

"I hoped you would like them," he smiles nervously.

"I love them," you take them from him, smelling the brightly colored petals.

This is why he asked me what my favorite flowers are? This is insane, the first man who has ever surprised me flowers is a literal prince, you think. A really hot prince. Oh my god stop thinking that he's hot, he's literally right here, he can probably hear you, you look up from the flowers to Loki and he chuckles.

"Did you read my mind again?" you ask him, your smile fading quickly at the invasion of your privacy.

"I'm sorry," his smile drops and he takes a step backwards. "I honestly do not mean to. I've told you, you think loudly."

"You keep saying that but I have no idea what that means," you say, the confusion evident in your tone. "Its not like I'm screaming my thoughts."

"That's not what I mean... I typically need to focus to hear what someone is thinking and even then it is not always coherent or a complete thought. Since the Mind Stone, however, I have had less control over my telekinesis much like my other magic. It comes suddenly, a person's thoughts will simply appear fully formed in my mind, as clearly as you are speaking now," he says. "This happens more often with you than anyone else in the Tower for some reason. Sometimes, I don't even realize you didn't say it out loud until you are upset with me."

"Oh..." you pause, having not expected him to be doing it by accident. "I guess just... try to stop doing it or I'll have to think of some more really annoying songs."

"Please don't," he chuckles. "It took me three days to get the chewing gum song out my head."

You laugh, "That's what you get for being in my brain."

"It is a very strange place," he jokes.

"You have no idea, so stay out," you smile and open one of the storage closets try to find a vase for the flowers.

"I will do my best," he promises as he conjures a crystal vase on your desk. You set the flowers in the vase and add a bit of water then Loki asks, "Would you like help with inventory tonight?"

"I need to finish this paperwork first but that would be really great actually," you answer and pull out your chair again. He sits down across from you with a smile. "Last night was a lot of fun," you tell him. "I was really hoping you were going to come back tonight so we could talk more."

"I can come every night if to would like," he offers.

"I would love that," you answer then look down at your tablet quickly, hoping he didn't see you blush at his charming smile. I hate when he's cute, you think.

"No you don't," Loki says with a smirk.

"It has been ten seconds," you roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry," he mumbles and you shake your head then begin to hum. "Norns, the gum song again, really?"

"I told you this would happen," you laugh then continue to hum until you finish your paperwork.

Where is he? you think as you pace nervously back and forth in the infirmary. Loki had come every night this week, as promised but he is later than usual tonight. What is really concerning you is not so much his timing, it's the fact that he went on a mission today.

You had heard from the nurses who were ending their shift when you arrived that there had been a large explosion at the Hydra base Loki and the others were sent to. You need him to come so he can tell you he is okay and that you are worried for no reason but every second that passes makes you more and more anxious.

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[thursdayinspace]

May I offer a different take from “she fell first, he fell harder” for Mulder and Scully? One where both fall hard and then run an obstacle course for years, one they partly set up themselves?

I think mutual attraction is there from the start; they’re interested in each other before they even meet (she seems to know pretty much everything about him and he has gone as far as reading her thesis – and likes it). They’re fascinated by each other. And then their first case does everything to put them into situations where they can test each other and set the direction for their partnership and the trust that’s already starting to grow between them. Really falling in love, beyond a crush, takes knowing each other to a certain degree, and I think due to the nature of their first days together, they go through the ‘getting to know you’ phase in record time. There are a few interesting scenes that really set the tone and bring them together in ways that could make or break them, and each time they choose to support and trust each other.

Their first meeting: discussing the case. He tries to pick apart her science as she tries to pick apart his paranormal explanations, and they seem to have a certain amount of fun with that. She obviously thinks his theories are nonsense, and he doesn’t expect her to approach the problem with an open mind, but they’re respectful with each other and seem fascinated by each other to a certain degree.

There is the mosquito bite scene. It makes sense for her to go to him and ask him to check out the bumps on her back. There really is no one else she could ask, and also she’s panicking, which is absolutely understandable, and she needs somebody to reassure her, to help her if it is what she fears it is. So yes, it’s not like she has any other options. It is the way their interaction goes from there that makes it relevant to their journey. There is the fact that he doesn’t objectify her for one second. He doesn’t laugh at her. He seems to expect her to be relieved when he tells her it’s all okay, but he doesn’t seem to have realized how afraid she had been. And when he does, when she falls into him, seeking comfort, he gives it freely. His smile fades. He is there for her. He opens up to her in return, tells her his story in great personal detail, talks about conspiracies, and she listens attentively and takes his feelings seriously even though it all sounds pretty incredible. Attraction meets trust – that night could have gone differently in a number of ways. She could have felt too embarrassed to ask him to check those bumps. They could have ended up in bed together after she dropped her robe in front of him. She could have questioned his conspiracy theories, rejecting his attempt to reach out. But they take each other entirely seriously. They grow a little closer.

And then we get to the scene in the rain. He explains his theory. She argues against it. He says “You think I’m crazy.” She doesn’t disagree, but then remembers details that actually fit with his theory. Which is not something he expected at all. And she does think he’s crazy, but it doesn’t matter to her. They stand there opposite each other, she’s laughing and he’s looking at her, laughing too, more quietly as if he can’t quite believe it. And I think that’s when he falls. Hard. With a soft landing. She’s so breathtakingly beautiful, standing there absolutely drenched, wet hair clinging to her face, laughing like nothing has ever been funnier – but also, she is actually standing there, working with him, contributing to his theories even though she doesn’t believe the things that he believes. She wants to understand the world, she wants to solve the case even if that means opening her mind to other possibilities, and she seems to like him with no ulterior motive. She’s smart, she’s beautiful, she’s curious. His heart never stands a chance, he falls in love right then and there. And she does too. He’s ridiculous and cute and smart and he doesn’t apologize for his beliefs – and I think honestly and integrity is something Scully values highly. It was definite interest before, attraction, probably a bit of a crush, but this is when it happens; there is no going back now. If they’d ever dreamed up their perfect soulmate in their minds on a quiet lonely night, it would have been each other in that moment.

There is no separating them anymore after that. They have both made their choice. They also backpedal a bit – quite a bit sometimes – only to fall a little more in love at other times. It’s complicated. We all know the way they go from there. But I think that moment in the cemetery, they fall. Both of them. They fall in love and that’s it for them for the rest of their lives; it just takes them several more years to act on it. To admit it to themselves. But I do think they admit it to themselves in that one specific moment, and I think if the FBI had decided to separate them again after this case, he might have asked her out, or she might have asked him, and it wouldn’t have taken them fifty million more years. Some days they know, some days they ignore it, some days they fight and some days they can’t admit it but feel it so hard it almost breaks them.

So no, I don’t think one fell first and the other fell harder. I think they go at exactly the same pace. I don’t think Mulder is even capable of protecting his heart in any way and gives it away quickly as a rule, but that’s a post for another day. I think Scully is more complex in how she falls in love, but that is also a post for another day. This is just to say: I think it takes neither of them any time at all. (But after that though . . . yeah. Haha.)

[sirianasims]

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

[tedsbogusworld]

🎸 NEW GIRL AT SCHOOL 🎸 ted logan x reader headcanons

A/N: Trying out something a little different. I’m very nervous to post this, since I’ve only ever done bots before. Hopefully it isn’t total rubbish.

Ted definitely hadn’t been paying any attention to what was going on in the classroom before you walked in. He and Bill had been too busy brainstorming new song lyric ideas.

“Who cares about some short dead french dude. We won’t need all this useless information when Wyld Stallyns becomes famous.” Bill had said to Ted, whilst messily scribbling down some lyrics at the back of his history notebook.

Ted had been so focused on his songwriting, that he didn’t even notice you walk into the room. It was only when Mr. Ryan told him and Bill to pay attention, that he looked up to see you.

“Everyone listen up! This is y/n and they will be joining us this year at San Dimas High. I want everyone to make them feel welcome.” Whilst Mr. Ryan introduced you to the classroom, Ted stared at you with his big brown eyes. He looked like a love sick puppy dog.

“I’m in love dude.” Ted shuffled his seat closer to Bill and whispered to him.

When you end up sitting in the seat next to Ted (it was the only seat in class left), he immediately became flustered and nervous. There was no way that he could focus on the lesson now even if he tried.

Throughout the whole lesson, Ted couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction. He also attempted to impress you with his laidback and nonchalant attitude, cracking jokes and giving witty responses during class discussions to catch your attention. However, it seemed that Ted’s antics had not impressed you.

Ever since you joined Ted’s history class, he had been arriving on time to Mr. Ryan’s lessons. Ted didn’t want you to think of him as the class slacker, even though he was already pretty much one.

Ted wants you to think that he’s smart. He’ll sit up a bit straighter in his seat and pay more attention in class. He even takes notes! Mr. Ryan can’t believe his eyes.

Ted may even raise his hand to answer questions and discuss historical events. He’s not correct most of the time but his silly responses sometimes get a smile and a giggle out of you, which makes his day.

Ted still goes back into his own world and daydreams in class (specifically about you). At the back of his notebook, he doodles your name and his together with a big heart around it. Ted is also a good drawer. He’ll draw pictures of you both holding hands.

He always makes sure his notebook is in a secure place. He would die of embarrassment if you ever saw his silly little doodles. Not even Bill knows about them.

Ted becomes incredibly clumsy and awkward around you, constantly tripping over his own two feet whenever you are nearby. Countless times he’s almost bumped into somebody, walked into a trash can and dropped his school books in the hallway.

Ted was harmless but he would low-key act like a stalker. During lunch times he would attempt to discreetly follow you around and he would bring Bill along with him for moral support.

“Dude. You are seriously acting like a total stalker. Just go up and talk to her. Recite her some lyrics!” Bill would always say to Ted, trying to convince him to make a move.

Ted has been observing you so much, that he now knows what you bring to lunch each day and where your favourite spots are to sit and eat.

Ted thinks he’s being sneaky, but a few times you have spotted him hiding behind a tree or a bush. His fluffy hair would always been sticking out.

Both of your lockers are right near each others in the hallway. Ted will peak around from his open locker door and watch as you put your books away or take out books.

One day you spotted him peaking around at you and you gave him a friendly smile. Ted nearly fainted on the spot.

You are now the inspiration for the songs that Ted writes. These songs often talk about your beautiful smile, and bubbly personality. Ted only wishes that one day you could hear it :((

[claiestve]

𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ꨄ Kayson

˜”* ❝𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙄'𝙙 𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴀʀᴄᴀᴅᴇ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴋᴀʏꜱᴏɴ !

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

You love Kayson with all your heart. How could you not? He’s the sweetest man you’ve met, talented, and loves you just as much. Now, as much as you love your boyfriend, finding time together isn’t always easy. His availability and yours didn’t align too well and despite his efforts to distract you from work, you make a conscious effort to stay focused.

There’s nothing wrong with that, though. The two of you were devoted, you slightly more than him. Lately, though, you’ve been exhausted—burnt out and drained. Kayson saw it all and he hated it, so much. It was getting to the point where you’d be knocked out, dead asleep when he got home which made his heart hurt a little. 

Knowing him, you knew he’d do something about it but you were expecting him to take a day off to be with you or encourage you to leave the house. Well, he did both. 

Kayson took a day off of work and dragged you out of the house to spend the day with him to take your mind off everything. 

“Kayson, where are we going? I could’ve finished–”

Your lips were met with a bossy finger,

“Shhh… don’t think about work, babe. You’ll see where we’re going soon.”

Your eyes rolled at his bossiness, it wasn’t helping with your crankiness. There were many places he could take you but any idea you could think of was far too simple for him. Not enough fun for him. Not that you had many ideas, though, it hurt to think but that never stopped you before. 

“Kayson,” You turned to him, watching him giggle, “Are we seriously at an arcade?”

He leaned his head back, “What would you do if I said yes?” 

“I’d be amused.”

Kayson laced his fingers with yours, placing a kiss on the back of your hand, “You look so amused.”

He was starting to pick up your sarcastic humor, a trend you somewhat regret encouraging because ever since he started, he never stopped. 

Nonetheless, the two of you stepped inside the most colorful, nostalgic, and competitive environment. It may not seem like it, but this was your shit. You knew that Kayson knew you’d love this. That thought alone made you love him even more. 

“Where do you wanna start, babe?”

Your teeth poked out with the help of a mischievous grin, “Which game do you suck the most at?”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your lovely boyfriend was now following you like a dog on a walk. He felt the most defeated in his life. He even tried to win you a stuffed animal but he failed so miserably that you had to win it for him for you. It was adorable though. 

The only thing you could think of was how much fun the two of you were having (and how much fun you were having, absolutely crushing him at everything). Kayson could just see how much the stress and exhaustion left your body and that was all he could think about. 

“Damn, babe! We got a bunch stuff from these tickets.”

You look over to see him holding all your prizes—it’s too much for him to carry alone.

“Here Kay, let me help you,” Your prizes fell right into your arms, “I had a lot of fun today, thank you so much, Kayson.”

“That was all I wanted.”

His head dips down to plant a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s put these in the car now.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

absolutely BLESS @xxminxrq for this idea, i hope it met ur expectations ♡ n i love the idea in general

💋 

[mattodore]

playing with dionte's hair bc i'm procrastinating

[mishapen-dear]

i know too fucking much about qsmp badboyhalo.

[kisaraslover]

if anyone has any problem making sense of the way i interpret Kaiba just remember this: Tea Gardner looks at him one day and has the dawning realization "hes like a lesbian of some kind" this should make all the pieces fall into place

[msburgundy]

real introspection hours, who up

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

i remember once seeing an ad for scar reducing creams and ended up deciding no that's not reasonable to buy if it's literally self inflicted. but because of this now being in a visible place (can probably hide until summer, but after it's too warm to wear long sleeves... oh gosh. :< ) I feel like I probably should do research on how to minimise scarring at least for visible cuts for the sake of others.

and maybe invest in a nice light summer cardigan :) you know those pretty lacy ones, I bet I could pull that off, and I've wanted one for ages so this might be my motivation :)

....I should also do research on how to hide them before they've healed, because I've got a simulation next Tuesday. If necessary I talk to the person running the sim and get permission to be in long sleeves for that

oh gosh why did I forget. I'll have to be in short sleeves for placement. oh gosh oh gosh I am an idiot

[unexpectedbrickattack]

Mr.Stick.

What are ya thoughts about him??!?!?!?!?!?!?

I aint got none!!

[l48yr1nth]

Hi. Just wanted to say I really like your art. The way you use shapes is truly amazing and I love every art piece that comes up on my dash. :).

I AM. GOING. TO CRY.!

thank you and i love you and ur awesome and . i love you. :) :) :3

[archived-and-moving]

Fuck man I love music. Artists who have enough talent to hone their craft and control an element of themselves as temperamental as their voice are simply fabulous.

I'm sorry I don't think we recognize how tough mixing and belting and vocal flipping and runs are. And ppl just do this. Regularly. Every day.

I'm gone, i'm sorry I'm dead. I can't help but appreciate how incredible music truly is.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

the most recognized as comedic song being the best part of the movie musical because the conventions that serve as a mode of communicating ideas, for example "people just bursting into song" or "choreography" or "'noticeably stylized' cinematography" that accentuates nonliteral nonrealism-invoking choices, are regarded as Silly or Frivolous. and the effort to shove everything else that's more "serious" into what is expected to be read as dramatic cinema that's not stylized in any ways that seem too "Genre" which only makes [but someone's singing?] underwhelming and out of place because no other elements are supporting it

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[muninnhuginn]

wait i can steins;gate these time travel mechanics