#all while my meds don't work anymore and it takes so much time to find new ones

[apollo-zero-one]

I don't want to talk to my therapist tomorrow I have nothing good to tell him and I don't Want to talk about things because everything is bad and I can't do anything about it that I'm not already doing

[russellsppttemplates]

Are you staying? (Logan Sargeant)

Before the Miami GP, you fly over to spend some days with your boyfriend's family, and it turns out that you can charm more than one Sargeant

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first thing I've ever written for Logan and I'm excited and nervous to see how it goes! Nothing against other careers, but I'm a sucker for the stereotypical smart job and paired up with the friends to lovers trope, I made this! I hope it's good for my first piece for him! Also, I'm aware that Leo hasn't been in the paddock for what I can assume obvious safety reasons, but I thought of this and didn't want to leave it behind 🫣

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: mentions a previous injury

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Is this your list, babe?", Logan said as he opened the document on his iPad after you sent it to him, reading a checklist of all the things you needed to pack last minute after he said he wanted to help you.

"Yes - actually, can you help me with it, please?", you asked as you packed your usual medication, "I already have my meds in the little bag and my chargers too - you can check those off".

"Okay, done", he offered as he crossed them with the pen, "next, we have documents - passport, I'm the one with the tickets and they're in my phone as well, and Travel insurance? Since when do you do Travel insurance?", Logan wondered as you packed the documents into your bag.

"Since I'm going to motherland of paid healthcare - I don't usually get sick, but you never know! Just to my luck I could feel some pain and before I know it, I'll be knee deep into debt that no amount of working could help with! I'm just about keeping university fees covered, I can't have anymore on me", you offered as you looked at the camera. Even though the timezone was different, Logan still FaceTimed you, tucked in his bed while he saw the sunshine through the window behind you

"If it comes to that, which I hope it won't because I like you all in one piece, I would cover i-", Logan added as you shook your head.

"Let's all hope that I go and come back with pristine health and that this was just me being my forewarned self", you smiled and crossed your fingers, "what's next?", you wondered as you walked around your bedroom, looking for anything that could stand out.

You met Logan, out of all places, in the pool you had been swimming in your whole life. You never wanted to compete - for you, swimming was a way to forget about the day for a couple of hours and to ensure you were active. A couple of years ago, this boy walked inside, leaving his flip-flops on the side next to yours and he seemed to be doing some conditioning work.

Later, you found out he had picked up a muscle injury and he was there with his physiotherapist at the same time you went everyday, and by the time his treatment was over, you became good friends and it bloomed from there.

A party before his first season in Formula One was the last straw when he wasn't the only guy there who noticed how beautiful you looked. It seemed that all of the single drivers had their eyes on you, both from the novelty of your presence in the function and from the confidence you exuded. His protective side came forward, and as he was driving you back home, he didn't let you leave his place until he confessed his feelings. As it turned out, you felt the same.

"And last, but not least, lip balm", your boyfriend said in a overly exaggerated accent.

"And for that, you don't get to use this anymore!", you put the small tube on the small bag, zipping it and finding a place for it before you stuck your tongue out at him.

"That's alright - I'll just kiss you after you put it on", he smirked.

"Like that is any different from what you do now", you grumbled, closing your backpack and patting it, "I'm all ready!", you smiled.

Even though the original plan was for Logan to fly to England and then fly with you to his home country, your university practical assignments had been changed to that week and there was no way you could swap, let alone miss them. You didn't want your boyfriend to spend less time with his family because of you, so you ended up deciding that you would fly over on your own and meet him there as soon as you could.

"I miss you, I can't wait to kiss your beautiful face", he smiled.

"I miss you too, but soon enough handsome!", you said as you looked at your watch, "the train leaves later today, but I heard there was a lot of traffic so I think I'm going now", you muttered, not wanting to end the call yet but having to do it for practical reasons. Besides, Logan needed to sleep and you were sure if you didn't end the call, he would pull an all nighter.

"Don't be late, gorgeous girl - I'll dream about meeting you when you get here", Logan charmed.

"See you later, Logie! Have a good sleep!", you beamed, "don't forget to put your phone on silent because I'll text you the flight updates! I love you!".

"I will! I love you too - have a safe flight!", he smiled before his face disappeared on your screen.

Making sure everything that needed to be off was turned off and on its right place, you closed and locked the door behind you before starting your journey.

Once you had done the security checks at the airport and found your gate, the nerves on your tummy settled in. It wasn't the first time you had to fly on your own and you knew well enough where they stemmed from. You had briefly met Logan's parents a couple of times before since they travelled for some of the races, but spending time with them in their family home carried a different weight to it.

Luckily, there weren't many setbacks and the flight actually landed a couple of minutes before schedule, making you text Logan that you had already landed so he could sort the situation out.

Spotting him wasn't too hard once you saw your name on a lavender coloured cardboard and your boyfriend holding it.

"I missed you loads", he whispered on your ear, kissing under it and hugging you tight.

"I missed you too", you answered back, letting him squeeze you one last time before grabbing the cardboard, "You did this for me?", you beamed.

"Yes, one of my cousins was over yesterday and she gave me the idea to put the glitter on there", he nodded to the glittery letters.

"Yes, I definitely noticed that wasn't you", you giggled, pushing your suitcase along and to the parking lot.

"Mom wanted to come and get you, but she put in her head that the house had to be spotless, so she stayed back, and I think my dad went out to get an order my mum made for a bread she remembered you liked and she wanted you to have it", he stated, unlocking the car and popping the trunk open.

"They're going what? I don't need any special treatment, Logan, - I don't want them to think I want princess treatment!", you argued, holding onto your things, "my Goodness, your parents think I'm a snob", you groaned.

"No, they don't! They just wanted to make sure you feel comfortable and at home!", Logan offered, trying to get your backpack.

"I could sleep on the floor and be happy about it!", you grumbled before you let him get the bag.

"If you really want that, that's fine, but my bed is quite good to be fair", he smirked before you swatted his chest, helping him with the suitcase next.

"Stop making jokes, I don't want your family to think-", Logan interrupted by placing his lips on yours.

"Stop talking nonsense, my parents are excited to have you here", he spoke.

It wasn't a lie. All of his family was excited and curious to finally meet the girl that captured Logan's heart. He knew they could be a handful, and he had certainly warned you considered you came from a small family giving that your parents were only children - it wasn't so much that he thought you wouldn't feel okay, but it would definitely be a little more crowded that you were used to.

On the other side, his family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous of what they could say. Not because of you and the person you were - he was sure you were going to be just fine, but it wouldn't be the first time that his family's opinion swayed someone the other way. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and everyone else that wanted to tag along and nitpick at you. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

"I'm choosing to believe you", you smiled, getting inside the car and watching Logan do the same.

"Did you have a good flight?", he asked as he reversed out of the space, "a lady behind me was saying that her daughter had a turbulent flight".

"It was fine, but I don't really know - I slept on the last couple of hours. Didn't think I had it in me", you tsked, "but the seat was quite comfy and there wasn't anyone in the middle seat, so me and the guy that was on the row sort of took over it and had a silent agreement to share it".

The drive to his parents' house was quick, Logan pointing to all of the spots that carried memories and special moments.

"That's my mom and my dad is also arriving behind us", he looked at his rear view mirror to check if his father had space to park.

"Hello! Welcome welcome, Y/N!", Daniel smiled and greeted you with a hug as soon as you stepped out of the car.

"Hi! Thank you for taking me in for these couple of days", you giggled.

"Nonsense! We're glad you could join us after all - did you do well in your examinations?".

"Dad!", Logan warned slightly, not wanting you to feel ambushed about it.

"They went well, yes! There's only one mark left and it should come out one of these days", you smiled, walking up to greet Logan's mother at the door.

"Hey sweetie! How have you been?", Madelyn asked, pulling you in for a tight hug.

"Hello! I've been good, and you? I hope it wasn't too much trouble having me here", you told her.

"Oh, no, don't worry! You're Logan's girlfriend, you could never be too much trouble", she offered, letting you in, "How was your flight?".

"It was good", you added, "there wasn't too much trouble with customs either, but it was quite tiring for me, I've never done such a long flight", you chuckled.

"When we got back to Silverstone, I had to take three days to recover from it! And I felt so dirty that I had to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had just arrived and while it maybe wasn't the way to go, it was something you wanted to do.

"Of course, of course! Logan will help you - I left the towels on your bed", she patted her son's back before he headed up the stairs as you trailed behind after excusing yourself.

You headed straight for the shower after getting your toiletry bag from the suitcase, kissing Logan's lips quickly before. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, Logan was doing his hair in the mirror.

"Don't you look handsome?", you whispered, kissing his cheek, "I must say, I'm a big fan of this longer hair", you mused.

"Thank you, love", he smiled, "are you feeling good enough to go out or do you want to stay at home?", he asked.

"I'm good - that shower really helped", you offered, "let me just get ready and then we can go - are your parents joining us?", you wondered.

"I'll have to ask, but I'm assuming they are - they made reservations for us for lunch too", he let you know.

"Okay, I'll just change quickly and sort my hair out", you kissed his cheek before looking for an outfit on your suitcase.

As soon as you were ready, you headed back downstairs so you could leave the house, Logan's mother insisting that you rode in the passenger seat next to your boyfriend, "it's not everyday we get to be driven around town", she snickered.

They pointed out at different houses of family members you would soon meet along with some friends and spots like their workplaces and favourite shops.

After lunch, Logan drove to his uncle's house, telling you about the little girl who inspired the welcoming cardboard he picked you up from the airport with, "she loves animals too, so be prepared to be ambushed with questions and a show of her stuffed toys", your boyfriend chuckled.

"It's true, Y/N! She has built her own collection and it's quite impressive!", Madelyn added.

The house was similar to Logan's parents', your boyfriend parking the car safely before you got out.

"Welcome Y/N!", an older woman said, "we've been waiting to meet you!", she smiled.

"That's my aunt, my uncle and that's my great aunt - she's my grandmother's sister", Logan said before you greeted them warmly, hearing quick footsteps on the corridor, "and that should be Millie".

A little girl no older than three years old ran up to Logan, hugging his legs and hiding behind them, "why don't you say hello to Y/N, honey?", her mother encouraged her.

Slowly, she peeled herself from the driver's legs, taking a look at you.

You crouched down so you would be in the same level, "hi Millie", you tried.

"How do you know my name?", she asked.

"Logan told me all about you - I loved the glitter you used for my name of the sign he took to get me from the plane", you smiled.

"I have more, do you want to see them, Y/N?", she beamed, stretching out her arm for you to take her hand.

"Go go, Y/N! I'll get some snacks out for us and then you can come down if you want something - we want to have a chat to get to know the girl our nephew's speaks so fondly of!", Logan's uncle winked before Millie pulled you.

Her room was decorated in a jungle theme, animal decals decorating the walls, "do you want to draw with me? Momma got me these with glue so it doesn't get messy", she explained before pulling a chair for herself, "Oh, I don't have one for you, I'm sorry".

"That's alright, love - I'll just sit on the floor", you smiled, kneeling down and getting comfortable.

Millie was an only child and from what Logan told you, there weren't many girls in the family, so she was taking full advantage of having some girly time with you.

"Millie! Poor Y/N has been here for nearly two hours!", Madelyn called for you from the door.

"It hasn't been that long, has it?", you wondered, feeling guilty to have spent that long away from them, "I didn't even notice!".

"Don't worry, honey! It's all good, we were just wondering if you two wanted to eat something", she procured.

"We'll go in a bit, auntie Madelyn! Y/N's nails are not dry yet!", Millie stated, "and I need to ask her a couple more questions about giraffes - did you know they're Y/N's favourite animal? She knows a lot about them!".

"Okay, then! Your momma has some sandwiches for you and little cakes for when you want to come down and join us - no pressure, Y/N, but she might keep you here forever now that she knows you like animals too", your boyfriend's mother squeezed your shoulder.

"Is everything alright?", Logan asked as he watched his mother get back to the living room on her own.

"Millie is holding Y/N hostage, but I think they'll be down here soon!", Madelyn offered, "I think she's in love with her".

"Looks like you've got some competition, man", Daniel told his son.

"She looked to be having a good time - she's such a sweet girl", his aunt said.

"She helps babysitting some kids, and there are not a lot of little ones in her family, and I'm sure Millie has picked her brain about her studies", Logan offered, "she's studying to be a vet".

"She's very lovely", Madelyn said spontaneously, "You would be a fool if you let her slip through your fingers. She's smart, caring, loving - I can tell from the way you look at her", she offered.

She had always been honest with him and she was known for not leaving words unsaid, but to do so in such a spontaneous and open way was surprising to Logan.

"And Millie loves her, and you know how much she hates new people - she has her seal of approval", she smiled before everyone heard giggles approaching.

"We were so entertained and having so much fun that I didn't even notice the time passing by", you apoligised as you sat down next to Logan on the sofa, Millie sitting by the coffee table and munching on the snacks.

"You have some glitter here, babe", Logan pointed out, shaking some of the yellow flakes from your eyebrow.

"I'm a bright star, of course I have it", you joked, giving him a big smile before Millie pulled on your pants' leg.

"Y/N, these are my favourite - momma and I baked them!", she offered you a small biscuit, "these bits here that look like giraffe spots are cinnamon!", the little girl smiled.

"Thank you, Millie", you accepted, taking a bit out of them and humming, "they're very very good!".

"Logan, did Y/N also teach you how to tell apart the different giraffe species?", Millie asked her cousin, choosing to sit on his thighs.

"I think she has, yes - the star shaped ones are the giraffa giraffa, right? And there's the one with 'camel' in the name because of a hump on the neck", Logan offered.

"That's right, Logan!", the little girl cheered as she drank some of the juice her mother offered in her cup.

Conversation flowed between you, his family members asking you questions about you so they could get to know you without delving into matters that you deemed too personal, which you were grateful for, and overall it was just a nice chat.

"Logan used to go around with this cap he had signed by some of the drivers - you must have been what? 10 maybe? I still remember the fight I had with him because he wanted to shower with it", his aunt laughed after clapping her hands once, "he was so adamant that the ink wouldn't budge that I had to show him that it would vanish and then he let me take it away from him".

You were loving all the childhood stories, holding Logan's hand and laughing with them, kissing his cheek once the rest of the group got up to help his aunt in the kitchen once they suggested that you stay over for dinner.

"I was a dorky kid, what can I say?", your boyfriend smiled as blush erupted on his cheeks.

"Shut up, your stories are the cutest!", you giggled, "way better than my 'I wanted to prove I was as tall as my older cousins so I fell in the pool' and 'I cut my own hair because my mum was busy with work and I thought I was helping her' stories", you argued.

"Depends on how you look at them, really", he smiled, stealing a kiss from your lips before Millie came back.

"Y/N, are you staying here with auntie Madelyn and uncle Daniel after Logan leaves?", she asked.

"Do you want me to leave, Millie?", Logan asked, feigning offense with his hand on his chest.

"No, silly - but I know you travel for work, so maybe Y/N could stay here!", she explained.

"I can't, Millie, I have school back home", you offered, noticing her shoulders fall.

"I like having you here, I like you", she muttered.

"I like you too a lot, Millie - how about we play as much as we can while I'm here, hm? You can pick my brain about anything you want, not just giraffes! Do you like tigers? Or cows?", you suggested, diverting the attention to something else.

"Tigers and cows? That's a weird combination", Logan quirked an eyebrow, "my practical exam was about cows and I was studying tigers before I left", you shrugged your shoulders.

.

"You guys can stay here whilst I do the debrief", Logan guided you inside the hospitality, letting you know where everything was in case you needed it.

You, Daniel and Madelyn engaged in conversation, hearing a couple of more stories from Logan's childhood and a few of your own stories from back home.

"It's my mum, sorry, if you'll excuse me", you said before heading outside since the signal was better there.

Once you finished your call to update your parents on how things were going there and here, you felt fabric run over your sandals, looking down to see a small dachshund puppy.

"Hey there, little one", you bent down to pet him, "you look like you're lost, hm? Who do you belong to?", you mused, rubbing his belly once he flopped down.

Behind you, you could hear Alex's and Logan's voice approaching and then you spotted Lily too.

"Hey, Y/N!", she waved, "Since when do you and Logan have a puppy? It's so cute!", she beamed.

"Hi! We don't, I just found him, or he found me I guess", you mumbled.

"This looks like Charles' dog, doesn't he?", she mused again.

"Have you two seen a small dachshund- Oh! Tell Charles he's here!", Logan said as he spotted the dog on your lap while Alex began calling the monégasque driver.

"He's here, Charles!", your boyfriend called once he spotted the Ferrari driver, "Animals just find their way to her, I guess", he joked as he watched you play with the dachshund puppy.

"Look at your puppy teeth - do you know what this one is called? I know, Leo! I go to university so I can treat little ones like you, but also the big ones! Have you met big dogs too?", you mused, all too happy with the puppy who seemed to be happy at the attention he was getting.

Charles approached you as you got up, carrying the puppy and giving him to him, "Oh no, Leo - did you run away from your parents?", you asked the dog, "now, that's not something nice to do, is it? They were probably worried about you, little guy!", you said before letting him go back to Charles.

"Thank you! He seems to have liked you", he pointed out, holding Leo in his arms.

"He just came in here and started playing with my shoelaces", you smiled.

"Leo does that a lot - last week, he found my sandals and he was a puppy on a mission running away from me with them!", Alexandra chuckled.

By the time the sprint race was happening, you sat in the garage and watched the whole race, waiting to see about the penalties they were handing out, seeing Logan ended up with P10.

"That was a good run, though, wasn't it?", you asked your boyfriend once he was able to be with you, "some learning curves for tomorrow at least".

"The balance was a bit off, but we'll look into it", he stated, kissing your forehead before also greeting his parents.

"I'm going to the bathroom", you excused yourself.

After discussing the sprint, his parents took the opportunity that you weren't there to talk to Logan about you.

"She loves you a lot, I can tell - I just hope we haven't been too much for her, this whole things is too much as it is", she gestured to the whole paddock and figuratively to the life her son led.

"The whole media attention definitely isn't her favourite thing, but she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. She's very private and her friends and family also help a lot with arranging stuff and being careful with those sorts of things", Logan offered.

"She's an incredible young woman, and you two are great together", Daniel complemented his wife's opinion.

All doubts of whether it had been right or not to bring you home for a few days washed away as Logan heard his parents talk about you like you were one of their own, welcoming you into their family so seamlessly and listing and pointing out all of the things that attracted Logan to you in the first place. You fit right in with his family and Logan couldn't be prouder of that.

[secret-subject]

How does it feel like to be hypnotized?

I find this question to be a hard one to answer. Loaded with subjection and people get very hung up on the details sometimes. It's funny because everyone experiences it differently, we know this. Everyone is different and responds to different things and ways to play with hypnosis. But what I also find interesting is how trance can feel different:

With different people

On different days

At different times

Let me explain.

So lately I've gotten back into listening to files, (recs later if you ask nicely) because after getting on medication for depression back in 2019 it felt weird to be hypnotized myself and I didn't really need it as much as I had previously. Now I've been off those meds for a long time and am now on stuff for my adhd instead so I thought I would give it another try and, it feels very different. Pre-2019 trance for me felt like a mixture of "blacking out" and "being really drunk", everything got really hazy and I would just sort of fade into the void. I've had experiences which felt more like an out of body situation. I dissociated so hard I just wasn't in there anymore for a little while, I had others that were just light and I could easily come up at anytime and chose not to. Because of my general training I was very easy, super suggestible and with the right people a lot of fun apparently. It has never been super consistent and it took years of dedicated practice to be like this. I think a lot of the time when people would see me hypnotized before people would assume that's just how I am, but I've been doing this stuff for years to get any result. Especially in skills like amnesia, body catelepsy, and even getting thoughts out of my brain and basic in and out of trance, getting "deeper" each time. But coming back with a proper diagnosis on my neurodivergence and the right meds changed the feelings I used to have ans has evolved them.

So right now, I've noticed a few things. The trance is less consistent and this is good? It's good because it tells me that well the conditioning is now less "overall brain is getting more sticky" like it would before and now "brain is very much more sticky but only for the ones who put work in or who I listen to a lot". I have a bit of a voice thing and I'm very picky so this works out when now adays I tend to also listen to my hypnosis creators friends work, it's easier and it could also be a rapport thing. I know them so I know that I can trust them to be safe and also I know I can back out when I need to. I've also worked a TON on subject agency since when I was younger I was very much a pushover when it came to hypnosis. Being a dominant full time now for the last three years after my switch era helped with this. I've gotten very good at saying no and highly recommend this is a skill we all learn, even though it can be a hard one to get started with. So yes, I know I can wake up any time (with most people) but I just don't want to. So when I'm listening to files I now notice the different people feel different. Some I find more relaxing, others I find more of that focus depending on what they say and how targeted the audio seems to be at me and my brains working mechanisms. If you tell me to "focus" and "listen" it's like a switch goes off in my brain and I'm there, versus a more permissive, relaxing vibe which tends to take more time to really get to me. This also changes on a day to day basis, but I think it's like compounding conditioning that clearly is building over time with practicing and training to certain voices.

The feeling started as what is very similar to my hyperfocus mode I go into on the daily with my adhd. It's intensely focused to the point where nothing else matters, and sometimes my eyes don't close on their own and almost wait to be told to "drop" or to close them on instinct. I'm very bad at relaxing into trance. I now notice my body flopping (being so relaxed I just flop over somewhere) a bit like it used to but not all the time. Sometimes this feeling is more like I'm frozen in place. I've even dropped into trance holding my phone lately and when I woke up i was still holding it in perfect place or practiced sitting up in trance, it's like a freeze trigger no one had to impliment. I've learned I can be just as "deep" of not "deeper" with my eyes open and in a sort of mid/waking trance state. I also noticed sometimes my eyes do still roll, so that's kind of cute.

Yesterday, I had a really intense trance experience, probably the most intense I've ever had in 12 years of doing this. It was literally seconds of it, the words happened and they hit me, my eyes were open the whole time but super blurred and I couldn't see anything clearly. I just sat there but it literally felt like a giant wave of pressure hit me and I was just in it. This insanely incredible force washed through me and I just went down so fast I didn't have time to think about it and it was just a couple words. It was like being just frozen in time with the pressure encapsulating you and it wouldn't let go. Normally I would have forgotten this (because my memory play is very well trained and I have a brain like a sieve because adhd) but I could remember it clearly, the feeling I mean, the stuff outside of how I felt is very blurry. I don't know or am able to remember what was said to do it, it just was and that was very interesting to know that in my years of doing hypnosis from both sides, that these feelings are still evolving for me.

Anyway, what does trance feel like for you? Does it change for you? And what kind of practice are you doing to get those feelings? I'd love to hear from people!

[hmshermitcraft]

Etho has been out of spoons for months now. He has no energy to do anything at all outside of working (because he has to) or eating (because he has to) or showering (because he has to) or using the bathroom (because he has to). He wants to hang out with his friends, he yearns for their conversation and bickering and their energetic bits but he can't. He just rests and rests and rests, waiting for the day he has inspiration and strength again.

He's so sick of being weak, of being tired. There's no joy in his endless napping, he just can't do anything else.

Cleo leaves food in his fridge and takes his trash out and refills his water bottle so he can take his meds at night.

Bdubs comes in every other day to brush his hair and brings him a bucket so he can brush his teeth.

The worst thing is that he gets up every morning, he works on his projects, he talks to people, he's normal, he's healthy. But then the moment he can relax he collapses and can't get up again. He uses all his energy and he can't go on. Which doesn't make any sense because why can't he have energy for the things he wants?

He's just...so tired.

Xisuma catches him while he's out and about, doing things. Says, "hey, you've been working too hard and it's making you use all your free time to catch up on rest." He takes Etho to a town an hour away from work, from everything. "This is my parents summer home, they won't be back for like, nine months. So it's yours for now, utilities n' stuff are paid so don't worry about that."

Then he offers to leave. Says that he'll stay close-ish to bring Etho food and all, but he offers to give Etho as much alone time as he could ever want.

"I know you like your own company better than anyone else's and I prefer to recoup by myself too so it's no worries."

"no uh, actually. If you would stay..that'd be preferable I think."

For the first days Etho sleeps and sleeps and sleeps, he wakes up, eats and uses the bathroom and then he sleeps again.

Then he migrates to the couch to listen to Xisuma knit or play guitar, then he's breaking out his noise cancelling headphones so he can watch X play doom until the early morning sunrise. Then he's asking to help with dinner, something that resets his progress a little bit he's quicker to bounce back.

Xisuma takes him for a little walk one week. Then two little walks, then they stop in at a coffee shop, then Etho sits in the shopping cart reading out the list. Their friends start to visit, Bdubs and Beef and Doc come for a night of super smash bros and Mario kart, Cleo comes over and plays some Zelda breath of the wild, zedaph tango skizz and impulse bring a board game he's never heard of before. Etho even gets to gossip in Japanese with Grian and Joel about everyone he's seen living here, like the dog walker who always has far too many dogs.

Then Xisuma miscalculates how long it will take a comforter to dry and asks to share Etho's space for a night. Which they do. Etho wakes with X's legs under his own because apparently Xisuma likes to rotate 90 degrees in his sleep.

Xisuma will never live it down, even as they continue to sleep side by side.

By the time Etho is yearning for something to do they've started cuddling, and by the time Xisuma deems him healthy enough to go back to work they're kissing a little.

Work is easier when he returns, he works four days a week instead of six. He has a boyfriend who leaves space for him to join in making dinner or going on little walks or whatever but never pressures him. He has extra energy to do things he enjoys.

He's not perfect, he still naps every day, still gets overwhelmed. But it's better.

He's doing better.

-carrie

He thought he'd find it frustrating to be cared for, like it's something he doesn't deserve. But, instead, it's a weight off his shoulders. It's not just him anymore. Xisuma is looking out for him as well, gently pulling Etho away when he's burning out again. His friends are there as well.

Etho isn't perfect. But he's got people there to stop him reaching so low again.

[cerise-on-top]

141 with an asthmatic s/o? Forever obsessed with your writing!

Hello! Thank you, I'm glad to hear you can like my writing! I'm not sure I did this request justice since I don't have asthma and I don't know anyone who has it either, but I tried! Thank you for the request!

TF141 with an Asthmatic!S/O

Price: He knows so many people, there’s bound to be one or two who have asthma. So yes, he is a bit familiar with the condition. He knows the basics, what it is, how it can be treated temporarily, what causes it. He knows more about it than the average person, but he wouldn’t particularly know what to do at first. It’s not something he really thought he’d ever be confronted with. He’s always aware of your inhaler. If you forget it, he’ll make sure twice and thrice that, at the very least, he took it with him. While he knows you can’t always get to it, he’ll try his best to take it with him wherever the two of you go. You having asthma is on his mind more often than he thought it would be. What if you die in your sleep? Would him smoking cause an asthma attack to surface? He’ll be so incredibly worried about you when you get sick. While he’s not sure any of it works, he’ll try to find other remedies that might help, and even if it’s just a spoonful of honey. Yes, he would ask you if you know of anything that might help you already and make sure he always has it on hand, but if you’ve only recently developed it and don’t know much more than he does, then he’ll do his research and find something aside from your inhaler that might help. Since he usually stays calm, even in the most dire circumstances, he’d be pretty good at calming you down when you’re hyperventilating. Gives you instructions on how to breathe so you could calm down yourself, he knows a few techniques himself. While those need to be trained, he will teach you those so you might be able to help yourself if you need it.

Gaz: The first time he hears you cough like that he grows worried. Are you sick? Do you need medicine for your cough? He doesn’t think much of it at first, but when you tell him you’re asthmatic he does grow a bit worried about you. While he is aware it’s likely not as worrisome to you anymore as it is to him, since you’re used to it, he will always ask you if you’re alright. Willing to learn about it, but would prefer so from you over some sources on the internet. He has a lot of questions about it, and from your answers, more questions would arise. What causes asthma and how did you get it? Can he even help at all or are his hands bound in this situation? What signs does he need to look out for? How long can you go without a remedy? He needs to know how much time he has before something dire could happen. He always makes sure your inhaler isn’t expired and keeps your nebulizer somewhere it’s easy to reach. Will ask you if you’ve been to a program or something similar that helps you with living with your condition. If not, then he would actually go there with you. Whatever it is he can get his hands on, even if it’s just some info that might help with your inflammations, he will take it. He knows that, realistically speaking, there’s fairly little need to worry, but he also knows that the brain won’t survive long without oxygen. Tries to keep you calm during an attack, tells you to sit upright after getting you away from whatever trigger there may have been. Although he’s usually a big fan of going on a run with his loved ones, he might just keep it to walks with you unless you insist that nothing could happen.

Ghost: He’s probably among the least worried out of the bunch until you have an attack. Your remedies will always be nearby and you will never run out of them as long as he’s around. Your meds will always be there, and so will you inhaler or nebulizer, it’s all good. He knows those are the two things that are most effective, but he, too, will do research on how he could help you. Like Gaz, he will be a bit skeptical when it comes to all of it and will ask you if any of it actually helps. If he gets a yes from you, you can be certain he’ll get it, but if it doesn’t he won’t waste too much time on it. While he may smoke from time to time, he doesn’t smoke very often. He’s far from addicted to it, so he has no qualms about stopping either, but he does so more out of worry for you than anything else. As soon as he sees any of the signs he’s learned about coming, he’ll have your remedy in hand, sit you down and quietly hand it to you. Generally speaking, he’s rather calm about it all since he assumes you know best regarding what you need to do in order to live a long and happy life. If you need him to give you some reminders, he’ll never forget even a single one, but otherwise he lets you do your own thing. Might ask you how you feel every once in a while to make sure you’re actually doing well. While he may not be a big fan of aspirin or ibuprofen due to your condition, he’ll try to find something else that might help you when you have a headache. He may not be the best at talking, but he’ll try to talk you through your stressful episodes.

Soap: Out of all of them, he’s probably the least worried. Just tell him what you can and can’t do and he’ll take a mental note of that. Also please tell him what you want him to do and what he, under no circumstances, should do. He’s a smart cookie, he’ll remember what you told him and will act accordingly. Does some research as well, but not as much as the other three since he trusts you. It’s not that he doesn’t care in the slightest, as soon as he hears you cough he’ll be all over you the first few times, but you know best. Like Ghost, he’ll always make sure your inhaler is never expired, that you have the meds you need for anything, that sort of thing. Soap also smokes here and there, but he won’t quit as readily as Ghost. Like he has always done before, he’ll make sure to either smoke on the balcony or steer clear of you whenever he exhales the smoke. Although he hates having to do so, he will get away from you when he does smoke. Considering he’s a rather active man, he’d love it if you actually went on a jog or to the gym with him. While he will always make sure you’ve got your remedies with you, he won’t stop you from getting some exercise in. Once he does witness you getting an asthma attack, he’s a bit less calm about it all. Sure, he remembers what you told him, but he will be a bit shaken the first time. Whistling while exhaling doesn’t sound like the most natural thing, after all. He tries not to show his panic, but his eyes do betray him a bit in that regard. After he witnesses your first attack, he, too, gets a bit more obsessive over you having your inhaler with you whenever you can. He’ll smuggle it wherever he needs to as well, consequences be damned.

[possibilistfanfiction]

nightmare for the one word prompts

[a little sad but mostly very silly, butch bea universe]

//

'i really don't have to go today,' beatrice says, kissing your forehead before settling down next to you on the couch. you know she means it: beatrice means everything she says, first of all, and you have grown — despite your brain's best efforts to steer you otherwise — to trust her when she offers care. you take her in: her fresh haircut that she gets done every month now, usually neatly parted on the top, messy from sleep; her tender wrists; the soft skin of her thighs; the soft sweater you bought her last christmas, sleeves pulled down over her hands, which are always cold.

you sigh. you had had nightmares — more than one, which is rare this many years later, after the worst of it — and woken up with scars that you don't think about too often, or at least with too much pain or sorrow anymore, aching all over your body. your legs had been pins and needles — worse, you've discovered, than feeling nothing some days — and your spine had ached, the halo feeling your sorrow, sharing in it. beatrice had skipped her typical surf session this morning, partially because she'd woken up with you both times last night, and partially because she's worried. she doesn't try to hide it anymore, her concern written all over her gentle face, in her sweet eyes, her soft hands. you find it nestled along all the small things she did for you in the past two hours: bringing you pain meds along with an easy breakfast of scrambled eggs and your favorite rosemary sourdough toast, doing a few snuffles with korra's morning unkibble so she's calm and ready to work today for whatever you need, helping you, after your glum nod, transfer from bed to your chair. you twist the wedding band around on your finger, focus on the few freckles that sit on the tops of her hands because of her time in the sun. your life is real, you remind yourself. your time on the other side, every endless day you spent in hell, was worth it for this, for beatrice quietly and patiently sitting next to you, soft and always becoming more herself; for your family visiting at the end of the week, camila begging to go to universal studios, lilith grumbling but giving in; for the respect people owe you now, and ready give; for your dog and your bar and the edibles you share with beatrice some nights, easy with laughter, and the farofa you feel confident in making for dinner when your friends come over, a warm offering.

'no,' you decide on, firmly, and you know beatrice will trust you. 'we should go. it'll be fun.'

'it will be fun,' she says, the same gleam in her eye you remember from years ago when she was ready to "maim or kill" (lilith's words) anyone who was in the way of her and the mission, especially once you became involved.

'you remember this is, like, your weekly tennis match for fun, right?'

'of course, ava.'

the way she cracks her knuckles tells you that the for fun is lost on her for the most part. it's endlessly amusing to you, though, and quite harmless — although maybe not to her opponent's pride — so you don't bother to argue any further. 'okay, well, i think angela and ruth wanted to have lunch anyway today after their jazzercise class, so we can watch you play.'

'no catcalling.'

you pout. 'you're my wife.'

'not from you, not from ruth or angela.'

'they're old, bea. let them have some fun.'

'at my expense? no thank you. i need to focus while i compete.'

she's already sitting up straighter, eyes lively. she's playing david today, you think, if you remember the club's "adult intermediate to advanced tennis league" rotation correctly. he's a decent player, and their head to head record is relatively even. he's also a bit of an asshole, and a venture capitalist, so it stands to reason beatrice despises him.

'fine.' you squeeze her hand. 'but can you change your shirt between sets?'

'ava.'

'gratuitously towel off or something at least.'

'ava.'

'whatever,' you say. 'i'm wearing a bikini. at least ruth and angela will appreciate it.'

'oh, i'll appreciate it,' she says, and then laughs softly and leans over to kiss you.

/

everything about beatrice, you decided years ago, is endearing. can she kill a man in, like, one second using just her hand? yes, sure, but you've seen her very skillfully practice her forms every morning for years, barring injury, and frown when anything is off, even by a breath. most people find her precision in all things kind of terrifying, but you've learned that some of it is a trauma response — from her childhood, from being a soldier, from losing you — and some of it is really just how she is. her books sorted exactly how she wants them — by genre, subgenre, and then author's last name — on the bookshelf; the meticulously labeled spices in your pantry, always in both their language of origin and english; her surfboards waxed perfectly and neatly stored in the small shed in your yard. everything about her precision is endearing because you understand her and you love her, and maybe the most endearing, or at least you think some days, is the way she treats rec league club tennis.

no matter how many times you've jokingly reminded her that your club isn't wimbeldon, she likes to wear all white little outfits; men's shorts and, your favorite, a neat polo. in the summer, she favors tanks, which you are not complaining about. she has three racquets and a very impressive bag like all the pros carry onto the court, special towels, pristine sneakers, and, when you're most amused, a wristband she very sincerely wipes her sweaty forehead on. since you'd met she'd loved watching tennis, and she'd taught you — as patiently as she has always taught you anything — the rules, her favorite players (not that it was, like, hard to think serena williams was the best athlete ever), common terms to know. you'd gone out with her a few times to the courts and she'd shown you proper form; you'd found out, eventually from her, that her dream as a little kid was to be a tennis pro, which was so charming and a little unexpected. you had thought she would've wanted to be some kind of scientist, maybe a really good lawyer, but her brother had dug out some pictures of little beatrice in her tennis getup, her expression so, so serious for a nine year old, and you'd fallen in love all over again.

she listens to her "pump-up music" — a lot of pop, surprisingly — as she drives you both to the club, focused already in her tennis outfit, complete with a quarterzip warmup top and everything. you're endlessly amused by her, in a way that most people are too intimidated to be, and you think it's good for her, to feel human, to not be taken so seriously when she should get to just enjoy things. your pain meds are helping by the time you get to the club, the pins and needles down your legs leveling out, the halo shaking off some of its deep sorrow, the memories of torture and abject aloneness that sometimes show up in your dreams. today is bright and sunny, the bluest sky, and your friends wave to you once you get out to the tables near the tennis courts. beatrice says a quick hello and then bustles off to start her very precise warm up routine, and you all wait until she's out of earshot to share a fond laugh.

'david today?'

'i swear she was rewatching coco and iga's last match yesterday to prepare.'

ruth pats your hand and angela orders a charcuterie for the table, gets prosecco for ruth and herself and — they both know you well enough by now that your chair usually means you've had to take medication, which you don't mix with alcohol — a cranberry soda for you, your favorite.

david shows up a few minutes later as you're gossiping, angela gasping at ruth's latest escapades with her new boyfriend while you laugh delightedly. he's the kind of muscular dude that likes to run along the beach shirtless because he thinks it's impressive but really it just looks ridiculous, the kind of dude that would give unwanted pointers in the gym. you don't have a disdain for him like beatrice does, because he's never done anything abhorrent to you personally, but when you see her steely gaze as he goes to his bench on the court, you get it. and, also, it's hot, so, like, you shoot a quick thanks to david and his douchey backwards cap for that.

/

things go just about as you'd expected: beatrice plays with the amount of passion you'd see in a wimbeldon final, and angela and ruth relentlessly whistle and cheer and boo. the charcuterie has a new truffle havarti you're all in love with, and the bottle of prosecco gets split happily while you watch. it's a fairly even match — david hits harder than beatrice but is slower and definitely stupider — and she wins the first set 6 games to 4. she gets mad at him for serving too slowly, and they briefly have an argument over whether or not one of his backhands was in. it's all deeply ridiculous for an afternoon at in an amateur club league, but beatrice and her overhand serves get you every single time.

she's down a break in the second set when she hits a drop shot that has david falling over his own feet, and you know it's over then. the second bea realizes someone is truly out of sorts, in any scenario, she's already won.

they shake hands after the match is over, beatrice taking the second set much quicker than the first, and then she makes her way over to your table and sits, very satisfied, in the chair next to you, a towel around her neck.

'my champion,' you say, and she rolls her eyes, accepting the congratulatory beer angela had already ordered for her as the last game was winding down with a thankful nod.

'great match, beatrice,' ruth says, half-sincere, half-teasing, but beatrice smiles anyway. sometimes, things are not good; sometimes, on the worst days, even now, even still, even with all this love, you still remember what it was like to suffer alone — without feeling, with too much feeling — for so much of your life. but beatrice slips into her quarterzip next to you and you smell sweat and laundry detergent and the pomade she puts in her hair, you feel the sun warming along your back and you hear the small group of children starting their lesson, laughing brightly. beatrice holds your hand and you'll nap later; you'll order takeout from your favorite thai place and watch the sunset on your patio; you'll fall asleep in her arms. you'll wake up and do it all over again — the loneliness, the pain, the longing — just for this.

[tate06]

YOU HATE ME

Phillip Graves X Reader

Word count- 1,119

Summary- Graves is a cheater.. again and you forgive him.

The clock turned onto a new hour, it was late at night and Graves was still not home. You had tried calling him multiple times throughout the night, so much so that after the 5th time you had given up.

Graves had again picked up his habit of frequenting the bar. After he worked so hard, promising over and over again that he’d stop drinking and visiting the bar; now so easily broken. The problem wasn’t his drinking, he wasn't a huge drinker. But Graves couldn’t be within 3ft of alcohol and not get the urge to kiss the prettiest woman in the bar. If he was drunk enough he’d even take them to bed. Though he didn’t always need alcohol for his infidelity.

Word got around, common for a small town in Texas to buzz with news on every single rumor that was false or not. Though no one whispered too much on their “American hero” or his marriage, to them that was his business not theirs. So you were at least spared from gossip, not pity stares at the local stores or at neighborhood parties.

You waited awake for Graves to come home until it became so late you decided it was best to just sleep the time away.

After an hour you are woken up by shattering sounds. You immediately know it’s Graves. You walk out your bedroom, down the stairs into the dark kitchen. You turn on the lights to find your husband cleaning up a broken frame.

“Philip- be careful here let me.” Brushing him away from the mess he made. He turned to face you, the photo belonging to the frame in his hand. While his other hand is drenched in blood.

“You hate me don’t you.” His absolutely toneless words echoed through the walls.

Taking a breath in. You didn’t answer him, but rather finished cleaning the glass off the floor, once done you turned to open your cabinets searching for the med kit. You ignored his question

“It’s alright you, I know you only tolerate me.” His words slurring, it was clear he was intoxicated.

You lift up his injured hand and begin to treat it. Shaking your head, his one sided conversation was ridiculous. Where did he get such ideas?

“You’re drunk Philip.” Speaking through your teeth annoyed at the stink of alcohol fuming out as he spoke.

“That doesn’t matter.” He looked down at how you so tenderly tented to his wound. His eyes are lifeless. Purely filled with sorrow.

Again you stay quiet, you kiss his hand after cleaning it up, then again when it was fully wrapped up.

“You used to love me. I know you did. You must have.” Graves held onto your hand his grip still strong even considering his injury, he held on as if he was scared you’d walk away if he were to let go.

“Please don't- Do not start again with this victimization.” You looked him in his eyes searching for warmth, realizing you, yourself were lacking such warmth in your own.

“You don’t even trust me anymore.” He raised his voice slightly. Pulling you in closer, shorting a gap between you.

“Must I remind *us* both of your numerous never ending affairs and one night stands?”

“That was a long time ago-“

“What did you do all night? The alcohol is so strong I can’t even catch a whiff of cheap perfume on your collar.” You yell back at him.

“I just drank. You know I haven’t done that in a while.”

“The nerve of you. Once was enough. How am I supposed to trust a cheater? An adulterer, I forgave you, but I am yet to recover my fucking trust in you Philip.” An annoying anger crawled up your spine, it felt like you were reliving your jealousy again.

“Why do you stay? Do you enjoy being stuck in this?” This finally caused you to pull back, he tried increasing his grip, but you still managed to get out of his hold. Causing you to almost fall.”

This made you realize he didn’t understand how crucial his ‘mistakes’ weighed down your marriage, how they truly ruined his image to you. How it went much deeper than just trust.

“Why do I stay? Because unlike you I know loyalty. Go to hell Philip.”

“What can I do.. I wish I could go back and never cheat on you. Never hurt you so deeply. But I can’t. I can’t doll.” His voice broke, of course Graves felt remorse but how could remorse fix a tremendous amount of betrayal.

“You proved to me I wasn’t enough to satisfy you, that I wasn’t worthy of you or whatever the fuck your reason for doing what you did was. It was clear you didn’t care about what we had. God I am reminded constantly of my lack of worth Philip.” Your voice was also breaking at this point. His grip still on your hand, you had no intention of breaking it either.

“You are worth- sweetheart you are more valuable than anyone else I’ve ever known. You place yourself first in my heart, ripping my mind, filling yourself into my thoughts. Rooting yourself into my heart that it now only beats for you, working to love you.”

“Where was that when you were fucking other women nightly. I guess your dick soothes such agonizing pain?” You scoffed.

He pushed himself off the counter and walked towards you. Suddenly he was on his knees staring into your eyes, his expression full of pleading, and regret. A silent apology.

“I want a divorce.” You both knew this was pure lip service. You hadn’t left him all this time, what made this time any different.

His expression now changed by these words, his face told his thoughts without a single word. His hands began to snake up and down your legs. He knew you lacked the strength, courage, and most shamefully the self respect to leave him. The embarrassing truth was you loved this man, the man in front of you on his knees, begging you quietly not to leave him, his half ass begs. You loved him, and though he had disrespected you time and time again, he still loved you as well.

You groaned at his touch and pleads

“You’re right I hate you-“ Cutting yourself off when his hands finally made it past your nightgown now his fingers teasing.

He hushed you playfully as he disappeared completely under your dress.

And suddenly all that betrayal was forgotten, he always did have a way with his words and tongue.

He briefly stopped what he was going, muttering into your thigh, “I love you dearly, baby”

[fangirlfrom-hell]

In Trouble || Jay Halstead x Halstead sister

This happened to me when I was little and idk why it's been in my mind for a while. It was a horrible feeling at the moment 😂

"Okay, slow down. She did what!?"

Without stoping their work, all the detectives at the bullpen raised their heads to check on Halstead, who was on the phone, his voice raising in concern.

"Alright, ok, ok. My brother works at Med, he can take care of this"

Now even Hank Voight went out of his office, crossed arms, intrigued for what was going on.

"Yeah, I'm on my way". He stood up taking his jacket from the chair and turned to the Sargeant without really stopping his way, "It's Becca..."

"Go", the boss said even when his detective wasn't really asking for his permission.

"Do you know what happened?" Hank asked Upton in a worried tone.

"Not a clue", she answered.

On his way, Jay called Will to arrange everything at the hoapital. "Wait, slow down, what!? What happened?" his redhead brother was also disturbed.

"I don't know, Will. I'm on my way to school to find out. Can you take care of this, please?"

"Of course, just keep me informed"

A lot of things were going around Jay's mind. He was worried, scared and surprised. He couldn't believe what the principal of Becca's school had said, this was off her character. He drove faster and faster each time, without even noticing.

He arrived to school and felt a sort of relief when he found his sister sitting on a chair outside the office. He gave her a quick glance from the distance, she didn't seem to be hurt. She was staring at the floor while playing with her fingers, obviously stressed and a bit anxious.

"Becc", he called out. When she raised her head, he noticed the blood stains on her P.E t-shirt.

Jay must have donde a frightened face, because the girl immediatly explained, "It's not mine". That helped to ease his toughts at least a little bit.

Before he could reach his sister, he was called from inside of the office.

"You ok?" He asked before going in, to which she just nodded her head.

After only a few minutes, Becca was called in too. She was feeling terrible, thinking about the scolding her brother would give her. When she came into the room, Jay was laughing in silence, but he stopped quickly as soon as he saw her and went back to his mad face.

"I'm taking her home", he said with a stern tone.

The walk to the truck was pure agony for the poor girl, she was suffering, thinking about what was coming for her. Jay would look at her by the corner of the eye, suppresing a smile.

"It was an accident", Becca burst into tears as soon as they were inside of the car.

"Do you wan to tell me what happened?"

"Ok, yeah. This is what happened", she was trying to regain control "So, we were on P.E class, we were playing basketball. You know I'm tiny...my arms are not that long...but I do my best..."

Jay was doing a great effort to control himself, this was hilarious.

"So, someone threw the ball to me and I was going to catch it. I raised my arms, both of them", she started to mimic her words, "...the ball was coming right to me, Jay, to me. But this boy pulled a face and ran towards me, thinking I wasn't going to catch it. I lowered my arms and ACCIDENTALLY, hit his nose with my elbow"

Jay couldn't resist it anymore and burst into laughter. He was laughing so much that his belly hurt and teardrops rolled from his eyes.

"There was a lot of blood all around! Why are you laughing!?"

He tried to talk, but was impossible to articulate any word. Soon, Becca's cry turned into laugh too.

"Oh, God. I can't breath", her brother calmed down a bit, altough his face was still all red.

"I tought I was in trouble"

"Oh, no. Honestly, I don't know how I managed to control myself there with the principal"

"So you knew it! And you were tortouring me!"

"You should have seen your face and your corncern! It was hilarious!" He snorted, laughing again. "I can't wait to tell this to Will"

Back at the 21st, it was inevitable not to explain what had happened, for all the detectives were worried, including Platt who went upstairs to make sure everything was alright.

Al approached the girl and played to inspect her elbow, "Hard bone", he concluded.

"Tough girl", Platt smiled.

"That boy got what he deserved", Hank mentioned.

Becca had to stay there for a while, jumping from Jay's to Hailey's desk. Adam would mock her from time to time and she would just stuck her tongue out at him.

After a few hours, Jay received a call from Will, "What the--? Are you serious? Alright", he said to the phone, staring at Becca. "Yeah, sure. Keep me informed, I guess..."

"What happened?" Hailey was intrigued.

"Becca's little friend just got into surgery"

"What!?" They all said in surprise.

Becca's eyes widened like saucers.

"You broke her nose. He'll wear a nose splint for a couple of weeks, depending on how it goes. His parents are not happy at all", the detective scratched his head, now a bit worried.

"Becca!" Everybody said unison with a mixure of surprise and fun, while the little girl was getting smaller in the chair.

[begginmonty]

best friends nick miller, winston schmidt and winston bishop 

idk if this fandom is alive anymore but i love these boys and i want to live with them so here's some really detailed headcanons - sorry its long lol. (nsfw mentions, mental health issues & fem!reader, lowercase intended btw)  i also made a playlist here

brief backstory - you move into the loft after jess offers you her old room as she's moving in with cece, you’ve known jess for a while as she comes into the coffee shop you work at everyday and has done for the past like three years. you take up the offer and that’s where the best part of your life starts.

let me emphasise that these boys love you so much and as much as they like jess, they like you a tiny bit more but will never say it.

these boys will defend and protect you till the day you die and they would do the same beyond death too - anyone bad mouths you and these boys are like who said it whos ass are we fighting (although none of them would actually beat anybody up, we all know what they’re like) 

nick always asks if you’ve eaten or taken your meds and when you say no this man glares at you until you move from your spot and go do so whilst you stare at him with a little scared

had a long day and just wanna lie down face first on the sofa? you can literally lay on top of these men and they're not bothered in the slightest 

if your head is on either winston or schmidt’s lap (and your hair is long enough) these boys will braid your hair subconsciously and sometimes schmidt does a really good job (not surprised tho)

(ignore if you don't smoke) you and nick have a guilty pleasure like every few nights going to the roof, dead in the night and sitting in lawn chairs sharing a cigarette together. it’s a bad habit but it’s something you two enjoy together.

going to parties and bars altogether and whilst everyone is making out with people or going home to sleep with people, you and winston are singing your hearts out, like you guys are brilliant at karaoke and you whip out all the old songs, any song. 

and then one of the rare times winston is actually making out with someone, you’re normally sitting at a table like : ( 

listen we all make mistakes right well, just if you’re heartbroken don't be sitting alone with schmidt because somehow you will kiss him and sleep with him and yeah. that happens one night.

and you wake up the next morning and schmidt is actually kinda cute cuddled up next to you and it does feel nice to be cuddled so you just kinda go back to sleep for a bit.

and i'm going to say this now, you do kiss all the guys at some point and/or sleep with them too.

one of them needs a fake girlfriend? you’re down. 

there’s one time you are Winston's fake girlfriend for when his family visits and at the end of the day you’re like, “that was fun, any girl would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend” and you give him one big kiss before going off to bed and he’s stood there dumbfounded. 

you know in that episode where they all admit they’ve thought about jess whilst getting off once? yeah well it’s the same for you. if not a little more. there’s no point denying it. 

dont u deny that you haven't thought of them too.

there’s a period where you’re very much suffering with your funky brain and you’re laying in bed a lot or laying on the floor of your bedroom staring at your ceiling with so many yet no thoughts.

and bless these boys my god, especially nick as he knows what it’s like. they’ll each come sit with you and talk about anything to distract you or just sit with you to keep you company. 

nick finds you sitting on the floor, back against your bed, head in your arms with your knees pulled up, sniffling away and he doesn’t say anything but sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. he pulls you close and just kinda crumble in his chest and this man does not judge you one tiny bit. he knows what it's like. so he doesn’t say anything but rubs your shoulders and gives you head kisses. you stay like that for a good hour.

later that night you finally emerge from your room and they’re all sitting on the sofa. it’s obvious you’ve been upset but no one says anything. you dont say anything as you make your way over and sit between winston and schmidt, and winston puts his arm around your shoulders, not in like an obvious comfort way but more in a platonic way?? (idk hopefully you understand)

for your birthday nick is broke and gives you a badly handmade card but dear god you get very emotional about it and he’s like, are you crying?? why?? what did i do i'm so sorry omg?? 

need someone to come to the doctors or the dentist with you and hold your hand? nick will. but don't squeeze his hand that hard cause he will scream. 

these guys support whatever you do. wanna game all night long? they dont care if you’re screaming at a 12 year old for killing you. play any instruments or sing? give them a concert (if you’re comfy). love art? they’ll commission you art (if you give them a friends and family discount). they’re very supportive, okay <3 

give them hugs. they might not act like they want hugs but from what i know about boys, they always want a big squeezy hug. so please give them hugs.

thing about schmidt tho is that if he finds you crying he’s not the best at dealing with it, “y/n have you seen- oh, oh no. NICK?? WINSTON?? HELP”

you guys of course fight and have silly arguments but sometimes they dont really have a filter and will say something unintentionally mean to you and then when they see your face fall they’re like oh god oh no i didnt mean i swear

you always forgive them though, it’s hard to stay mad at them <3

they love you as much as you love them <3

sorry it’s really long and detailed but there’s more if you want it and if you guys wanna send in headcanon requests im totally down to write them! < 3

[disabledunitypunk]

So, I know this blog has been a lot less active as of late, at least from my part (mod Stars).

I'm gonna be honest; I've been incredibly sick. A combination of some kind of issue with gluten/wheat (may be celiac, or nonceliac gluten intolerance, or wheat allergy) with IBD, MCAS, lactose intolerance and sensory issues, had caught me in such a cycle of degranulation, anaphylaxis, intestinal issues, brain fog, chronic fatigue, and POTS and chronic pain flareups, that I was nonfunctional.

On top of that, anxiety over my partners SSI application (recently medically approved by the administrative law judge, that's a win! still waiting on nonmedical approval but it should hopefully just be a rubber stamp process at this point - knock on wood) has really screwed with my levels of executive dysfunction.

And trauma around medical neglect and abuse, plus being so sick, plus executive dysfunction, had led me to temporarily avoid seeking treatment at all. When I say that the very idea of trying to trick yet another doctor's ego into believing they came up with the idea to test me for the conditions I'm already reasonably certain I have, all while making sure I don't seem too smart, too unintelligent, too articulate, too reliant on google, too self-aware, use too many medical terms, and so on... I've not had the ability to advocate for myself anymore.

Luckily, a friend of mine that's all hellfire agreed to help advocate for me at some of my appointments going forward, so I'm going to be finding a new primary care doc and going forward (possibly seeing my old one a few more times if necessary, just to get re-referrals and maybe get a referral to a non-Medicaid allergist that actually knows what MCAS is) with pursuing diagnoses and treatment again.

Until then, however, I'm pretty much limited to about three foods - plain white or wild rice, "zoup" (a zucchini broth with chunks of carrots, daikon, celery, and wild rice), and raisins. I can drink water and cranberry juice. Between my sensory issues and that tiny list, I've been consistently significantly hungry for a week. I'm struggling to sleep and can't get more than four hours of restless sleep in a night the past few nights. I'm menstruating for the first time in five years for G-d knows why. I feel better and less reactive, especially after an ER visit for some IM decadron, but I am constantly exhausted.

Why do I bring all this up?

This is my daily life. I have near zero quality of life because of the ableism of doctors and failures of the medical system. I'm barely keeping myself alive every day, really only with the help of a lot of caretaking from my partner. I haven't been able to get to my doctor to get approved for that friend willing to advocate for me to be paid for basic caretaking duties by Medicaid. I went out on Saturday for the first time in over a month, and I'll be recovering from that for the next week and a half.

There is not a single minute of my life that isn't profoundly affected by my disabilities. Stress causes a cascading reaction through my MCAS, POTS, ME/CFS. Understimulation causes intense stress and even pain. Listening to music while doing nothing, watching videos, and similar "low energy" activities drain so much energy that they trigger my chronic fatigue, and sometimes cause a lesser reverse cascading reaction.

I can't take an ADHD med to help with the symptoms more disabling than the ones threatening literal anaphylaxis and organ failure because I can't get them compounded without an official MCAS diagnosis, and I'd also need a beta blocker compounded as well (which are are often mast cell triggers) for my POTS because the only ADHD meds that work on me are amphetamines.

I can't take vitamin D or B12 despite being incredibly critically low for the same reasons. I've barely found some OTC benadryl and aleve that I halfway tolerate. I might have a UTI and if I do I'm gonna have to convince doctors 20 years behind the medical literature that IM antibiotics are considered safe and effective and are a safer alternative to oral meds for me, if still risking a minor reaction.

On good days, I can make it between the bed and couch a couple times a day, and between the couch and the toilet. On bad days, I have a chamber pot setup in the bedroom because I can't afford diapers. I'm sure my vitamin D deficiency is not helped by never leaving an apartment that barely gets some sunlight two hours a day because it's in the shadow of the other side of the building.

I used to, on bad days, spend most of the day doing mindless tasks or on slightly less bad days, puzzle games, on my phone. Now, I'm lucky if I can do even that much most days. I AM too sick to play video games. 🥲 I can nap, I can sit with my eyes open, I can listen to music until it's too exhausting anymore.

I'm tired, and every day surviving is just a monumental effort. Again, the ableism of doctors and... actually, they're not failures if they're intentional; the abusive medical system, have not left a single minute of my life untouched.

Multiple times, when talking about online discourse, I've been accused of "wanting to be more disabled than I am", "being physically abled", being "crazy", "delusional", "on something", etc, etc, etc. All for daring to say that ideas like body-mind duality, exclusionism within disabled communities, and similar, are deeply harmful and affect far more than insular online discourse.

Doctors love to shove off chronically ill people into "psych cases". Have anxiety, autism, PTSD, schizophrenia, DID, depression, etc, etc on your chart? Yeah, you're never getting that physical diagnosis. This is what perpetuating and encouraging ideas like "all disabilities are physical OR mental", "people with abc type of disability have privilege over people with xyz type of disability", and so on, DOES.

Sanism is used to perpetuate ableism. Ableism is used to perpetuate sanism. Quite frankly, I'm not sure that neurotypical physically disabled people, non-mad neurodivergent physically disabled people, and physically abled neurodivergent/mad (all as self-identified categories) get just how deeply compounded ableism is when you exist at the intersection of physically disabled and neurodivergent (especially if mentally ill or mad). Or perhaps, the disconnect exists along a line of "profoundly disabled" vs "can access abled hegemony to a significant extent". Perhaps it's both. There is likely elements of how visible a disability is, how much its able to be masked, the type/level/spread of support needs, and so on. There's definitely elements of other marginalization; race, ethnicity, fatness, queerness, and so on.

And then there's the subcategories. Cognitively disabled. Traumatized. Chronically ill. Visually impaired/blind. Deaf/hard of hearing. Intellectual disability. Mobility disabilities. Fluctuating vs static disabilities, support needs, masking, and so on.

Sometimes I wonder, would the people who think I'm just an abled faker who doesn't belong for not being able to seperate my neurodivergence from my physical disabilities, my neurological organs from my body, my inabilities from my inabilities, would they find I'm the same as them when they spend a day in my life? Would they find it worse? Would they find it unbearable in a completely different way from their own struggles? Would they maybe even find that while it's not quite as hard as their own struggles in some cases, that it's still wildly hard and the two are far closer to each other on the scale than they think? Would they understand that we are both in the midst of an active, eugenicist genocide, and that we're 50-49 bullet holes staring down the barrel of a loaded gun that is held by our oppressors?

Even now, I'm thinking about how this post might be inaccessible. Is it readable for screen readers? Will the length be too much for way too many people? Is it understandable for people with intelligence and cognitive disabilities? How do I fix those things if it's not. What am I missing? What am I missing? What am I missing?

I'm exhausted, I'm scared, and I'm barely holding on. I'm safe, mental health wise, to be clear, I'm just convinced that the only reason that I'm not in significant danger from my physical chronic illnesses right now is because I've always had a body that was stubborn as all hell and twice as resilient. I'm not dying, not because the illnesses aren't trying, but because my body will endure far beyond normal limits.

I've experienced slow acting anaphylactic reactions without anaphylactic shock about once a month for 1-2 years now, usually only going in after several days and nights of severe symptoms. Like I've mentioned, several of my vitamin levels are so low as to make organ failure a constant threat. None of my illnesses are "terminal" per se, but that doesn't mean they can't be deadly. And more to the point, it doesn't mean they can't destroy me, that they haven't utterly destroyed my quality of life, without killing me.

I mean, I started this blog as an attempt at fostering solidarity. We CANNOT be quibbling over who really "belongs" in various disability spaces, who gets to reclaim what words or whatever, when so many of us are dealing with this shit.

For the area with the lowest cost of living in the country, SSI should be 5 times what it is now. For the highest, up to 20 times. People on disability benefits lose some or all of their payments, insurance, and so on, if they get married, even to another person on benefits. I've never met a disabled person without more doctor horror stories than diagnoses, and we all know diagnoses like to come in clusters. We are being abused, neglected, and killed.

I cannot stress how much, not that this intracommunity discourse "doesn't matter", but that it does at a deeply harmful level. It's just perpetuation of the abuse we face at a lateral level. We're mimicking the government and doctors and general abled society and getting into petty but deeply dangerous inane arguments that are just us carrying out the only way we've been taught to treat disabled people.

Being a disabled activist and advocate means questioning everything you know about ableism. It means prioritizing first and foremost disabled people. And honestly, speaking as someone whose platform here is dedicated to that, that's really fucking hard. It means believing people about their experiences with disability and oppression in a world that teaches us that the vast majority of disabled people are lying privileged fakers.

It means not believing that people know more about what people with a disability they DON'T have face because of their own disabilities. A little confusing, but essentially someone with disability A without disability B who faces oppression X, can't say that someone with disability B DOESN'T face oppression X, just because they face it. It means not calling the very real harm someone has experienced "misdirected", or making their suffering about you or your subcommunity, just because you've experienced the same or similar harm.

It means unlearning reactivity as a group of extremely traumatized people. It means learning to meet people where they're at, and assume "can't" rather than "won't". It means accepting that sometimes not only will someone's disabilities cause conflicting access needs with your own, but that sometimes people's disabilities can actively cause them to do harm, and that they still deserve rights, community, and support if they do. It also means recognizing that the harm that a disability may cause someone to do is going to look VASTLY different than abled expectations of "harmful" disabilities. It means, even and especially when this happens, recentering the perspective not around how the disability affects other people, but around how it affects the person with the disability.

It's all of this and so much more. It's a lot of effort from people with not a lot to give. It's fighting an upstairs battle with no ramp, so to speak.

And I guess I just... I'm at a loss on how to keep that up. Is just focusing on getting myself well enough to participate again, putting my own mask on first, enough? When there is not a single moment of my life untouched by the extremely deep and extremely systemic harm of ableism, is it enough to try and access the care continually gatekept from me at an individual level? Can I even do so, against such intensive pressure?

How do I live this life, and also go on untangles the narratives of "disabling neurodivergence isn't really a real disability and neurodivergent people face almost no real ableism" and "physical conditions are obvious and so get all the care and face no real ableism". How do I fight the concurrent violences of hypervisibility and erasure within the community that only serve to strengthen abled people bludgeoning us with them?

How do I focus on things like organizing, community building, activism, advocacy, dismantling the system, dismantling our reliance on it, and so much more, when I can't even get out of bed?

All I can do is write about it, right now. Sometimes I feel like that's all I've ever been able to do. Everyone I've ever known has acted like some day my "pen" will be a tool of liberation, but I'm at a loss for how. I'm just some horribly sick mad cripple on a dying microblogging platform on the internet. I don't know - not if I'm enough, but if anything ever can be.

And I don't mean to sound hopeless. I know that change can happen. I know that it is, in tiny and sometimes larger ways, every day.

This is kind of a self-centered post, in the most neutral way. This is just my perspective. This is about me, and how I'm so very disabled, and how people assume I'm not (and how wild that is, considering), and how ableism affects me so deeply, and how I don't know how to face it or fight it...

I can only hope that maybe my word resonating with people means something. That maybe, as much as we never want each other to experience what we have to, that it's also a comfort to know we don't experience it alone. That maybe this will serve as a reminder that it's okay to be scared, to feel lost, even hopeless, to struggle; to not know how to fight or where to turn. That maybe this will reach someone who CAN do something, and maybe it'll reach the people who need to NOT do anything other than take care of themselves, and that maybe it will help both of them.

Maybe that's too grandiose, I don't know. I hardly know what my point is here, other than: this is me, crippled and crazy as all hell. This is the violence I face. This is why I started this blog, because we need to stop hearing "you're a lying abled privileged faker trying to take advantage of and take resources from real disabled people who really need it" from abled people, and saying it word for word to each other. Because what abled people mean by "real disabled people" is just a theoretical disabled person. A perfect victim. They don't mean any real disabled person, especially not those who can advocate for themselves. They mean they think every single one of us doesn't need or deserve accommodations, treatment, respect, humanity, or even life.

That's the point, really. We're all we've got. We've gotta fight for each other, not fight each other. And G-d, I know how hypocritical that sounds coming from my ragey, rabid ass. I just... that's all I know to focus on right now. Not necessarily all coming together and holding hands and singing a song about unity, but just... not being ableist to each other. Tolerating each other even if we can't stand each other. Presenting a united, unbroken front to ableist society, and pushing until they don't have any power over us anymore. Doing the work of activism, which is often neither easy nor feel-good.

That's what I'm trying to do here, at least. I try to get a little better at it every day. I try to listen a little more. I try to keep up hope when my body and mind are crashing down around me.

I don't have a mic-drop conclusion to add to this, so just: I'm opening the floor. Anyone who has anything to add, feel free to do so. What you have to say is valuable.

[onthepyre]

my dear moot. so gallavich are fuckbuddies and the ian leaves and becomes an emt and then what??? how do they get back together? do they like. see each other in the couple years between because of mandy or other people or do they go no contact?? if it's no contact then why do they see each other again?? i desperately need to know. i'm invested in this au definitely more than i should be since i haven't even finished the show yet but like. it's amazing. i'm obssesed

omg hi!!!!!! thank you so so much for the question. i swear im still spinning this au around in my head ive just been so very preoccupied lately but i intend to write about that first night in the bar soon so keep an eye out for that. BUT! i will put the answer to this under a cut because it got longwinded.

so i want to start with why things fizzle out in the first place. they start up very much like canon gallavich - ian is ass over teakettle for mickey, and mickey, while definitely interested, isn't nearly as invested. things diverge from their canon characterization around the time of mick and svet's marriage. ian remains pissed, but rather than fucking off to the army, he stays - and it triggers his first major depressive episode.

and then mickey's like....... dude what the fuck is going on with you. because mickey, at this point, has bigger fucking fish to fry. instead of him being ian's main caretaker during this time it falls on the other gallaghers and mickey's just sort of around, in the periphery, and then when ian hits that manic upswing again, a LOT of the insane reckless shit he does is with or for mickey. but they never hit that deeper connection that we see gallavich develop in seasons 4/5 because they're just too fucking busy

so then ian quits work, and that's fine, but that means he and mickey dont really see much of each other anymore. they try to keep things up for a little bit, but it's just not really convenient since they aren't constantly in the same place, and so they're just kind of like, well whatever.

(they are both secretly very sad about this. but neither of them wants to come out and say that. so they just don't.)

and yeah, they do end up seeing each other a little, because ian and mandy are still friends, and she's probably so, SO tired of his bullshit, because he tells her all of these conflicting feelings he's having. she drops these stupid-obvious hints to mickey, but he's got a thick skull. so mostly she just pesters ian.

and then a little over a year goes by before the next major event - eventually they kind of put each other in the back of their minds, not really forgotten but not a main figure anymore. maybe ian gets a boyfriend, for real. but he still hasn't exactly nailed the balance of his meds, and though he doesn't experience the full spectrum anymore, there's definitely periods of time that...... aren't quite right. so he finds himself in one of those, and he gets off work and, well, that bar he used to work at is kind of close. and he kind of misses that messy thing he had going with mickey. and he drops in.

he gets more than a little tipsy at the bar, hanging around waiting for mickey to come in - and eventually he does. and ian isn't really sure how to approach this, but you know what always worked for him? starting a fight. so he does that. he calls mickey over, brings him outside, and just fucking. socks him in the face. and it does what ian wants it to! they beat the shit out of each other, take a little breather for mickey to ask what the fuck that was about, and in response, ian kisses him. they barely make it inside before their pants are off.

but ian, for the most part at least, has his life on track right now. he can't get involved in organized crime, he's a fucking emt. he has shit to be doing. his brother's a cop, even if a corrupt one. so he leaves that night, as much as it pains him, and puts it in the past. for a bit.

but FUCK! it hurts more this time. it SUCKS, suddenly, very badly. he wants nothing more than to go back again and apologize and start over, start it again the right way. and though ian loves mandy, he doesn't really trust her judgement on this specific thing. so he confides in lip. lip says, no dude, you did the right thing. don't spend more time around them than you need to. and ian takes that advice! for a little while.

another ten months goes by. it's been two years - two years! - since they had a regular thing going. and really? they're still stuck on each other. mickey very nearly reaches out a few times, but svet worries they'd be spending too much time with the gallaghers. and mickey trusts her.

thing is? yev's a clumsy kid. when he's about three, mickey turns his back for all of ten seconds and yev pulls a pot of boiling water down from the stove - and onto himself. it only really gets his arm, but it's a LOT of his arm, and naturally, mickey freaks the fuck out! and like, ive mentioned this offhand before, but he and svet are STUPID protective over their boy. like, would kill for him protective. so he calls 911. guess who shows up?

ian. of course it's ian. so they treat yev and get everything sorted out, but fuck, if watching mickey be a good dad isn't, for some fucking reason, the hottest thing ian's ever seen. and he misses him! by this point, he misses him so goddamn bad. can't get mickey out of his head. so he says, hey, you still have my number. give me a call in a couple days, let me know how yev's doing. i can come check on him, change the bandages.

and mickey calls him that night, actually. ian's like, did something happen, is yev okay? and mickey says, yeah he's fine. do you want to get dinner. and ian says yes, jesus christ, please.

and they're like, actually pretty normal from then on out. they remain ian and mickey, so of course there's ups and downs. but they're ian and mickey again.

[wayfayrr]

Honestly seeing how the chain is really having a bad time with the "nightmares" and seeing some have the bad end of going into reader's world would make reader lend more than meds to the chain and so maybe giving cuddles and babying them like what they did with sage when he first came to reader's world and now believing that because of the chain's trauma and them being varying degrees of losing strength and the fact they are in a new world they don't know and so causing them these bad nights which causes to harm reader's heart and so giving much more affection to that link against sages protests and when reader caves in with what sage wants he ends up having to share reader with that link in bed for a long night and a thing that brought this to my mind was what if the chain members who could turn into things like legend turning into a pink bunny for the first months could infact still turn into those things but as times goes on it doesn't happen as much and is harder for them to do those things like at first four could split but after the first two months in reader's world he can't anymore and the colors voices are much more quiet altho they are still there they just can't part and are more quiet than before and what I'm going with this is one night dink goes to haunt legend but sadly legend is in his bunny form and he screams (I heard bunnies can scream) which ends up waking everyone and they find this scares bunny in the house, reader feeling bad for the poor bunny try to feed it carrots to calm it and when it seems he's gunna eat the carrot he instead runs up on reader and which ends up taking Refuge in reader's arms while sage just stares down at legend aware of what's going on and not happy and so he tries to get the bunny out of reader's arms and which ends up with him getting bites by legend, this could be with a reader who doesn't know that legend and twilight are wolfie and the pink bunny or just reader who knows but is gunna take all the time they need before legend turns back from a cute pink bunny. And as sage tells about his arm hurting again and that it would be good for legend to go back to his bed but with reader notice how panicked legend is as he is shaking reader decides that legend would be on their left side and sage can cuddle in reader's right side when going back to bed and when reader is asleep sage and legend just stare at each other with hatred and annoyance with how they can't get reader for themselves for a second.

Just legend looking at sage and sage looking at him back like this while reader sleeps

OAKVNOSK SAGE AND LEG AS THOSE CATS THEY'RE GOING TO KILL EACH OTHER WHEN THEY GET THE CHANCE 😭😭😭 BUT FOR NOW THEY'VE JUST GOTTA GLARE AT EACH OTHER OVER READER WHO'S SLEEPING LIKE THERES NOTHING WRONG

And you're right the chain are absolutely struggling at this point AOSKNC It's lucky for them to have gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep in a night once Sage and the shadow have teamed up, OFC like you've mentioned it does backfire. If the links got desperate enough there'd just be cuddle piles every night. Making everyone pissed off at everyone else because that way no-one gets alone time with reader. Even reader is getting exhausted with how little alone time they have, what with how they're being watched even at work

At some point the nightmares would stop as dink realises that it's worse for them than if the chain didn't have the nightmares. He just starts messing with them in different ways. You ever put something down and then never been able to find it? It'd be small things like that that really make the links question their own sanity, and possibly distance reader from them as they get sent to therapy? Four most likely needing to be one of the first to see a professional after the colours start getting quieter, as I think due to the desperation of them all going quiet would possibly lead him to talking to himself trying to mimic each of them. That or he'd start to spiral due to losing such a big part of himself so abruptly. Wind again being the only one who's safe from this, or any link that respected Sage's boundaries with reader, Sky perhaps?

As for what you said with legend, I love the idea that they can still transform for a small while but maybe it's only into a pink rabbit for a week or so then the colour slowly fades to a standard rabbit before he can't even do that? he'd just look like the killer rabbit from holy grail for a bit OSMXOAKM also I realise you probably mean a high pitch scream but with that Idea I immediately went with him sounding like he would when he was human, just this human scream coming from a rabbit in the dead of night at like 3am 💀 OR IF WHEN HE BITES SAGE THAT'S HOW THEY FIND OUT HE'S WORKING WITH DINK - HE'D BLEED BLACK BLOOD!! 🖤 Which makes even more sense why leg would be so insistent after that, desperately trying to put any distance between him and reader, or at least that's how he justifies it to reader. whether they listen or not would depend on what you'd do of course. But either way a yandere is falling even deeper for reader.

[vtforpedro]

life update - long

It took me a hot minute to find the last update. December, I guess? I'm so tired I never stop being tired and time is not real anymore. Anyway. Disability Stuff: I won my case in federal court in February. They said it'd take a year so I was a little hm. Found out the SSA voluntarily asked the judge for the remand because the written decision was indefensible and they were gonna take another look. Pros: Hey, I won! I get a second hearing! Cons: I didn't get a brief written by the federal law firm because there was no time. This is actually a tactic used by the SSA. I have no doubt they're fine tuning another denial. I also have to wait for the lower level court to figure out what was so bad about it (that they'd already ruled was perfect) to give to the judge I will have another hearing with. The same judge. Who said I was a liar multiple times and omitted eight months of medical evidence and said mental health issues are subjective hahaha. I hate this country. Health: Boy howdy it's been better and worse. I had the tilt table test in late December, went... ok enough, but my neuro didn't like how ambiguous the report was and sent me back to them to speak to an autonomic disorder specialist. Scheduled in Jan, just had my appt with her this month lol she is busy. She ordered: genetics test, labs, and skin biopsy. I've done the first two, third is scheduled in July and I'm gonna be a mess because needles u_u Brain stuff is much of the same. Episodic. Manageable times are a godsend, bad times are really bad. My heart started to do some funky ass shit a few months ago. My mom kept writing it off as anxiety no matter how much I explained that it felt like my heart was pounding after exercise. My BP and pulse shot up high for a while and b/c my pulse never came back down and it was interfering with, you know, living, my PCP sent me to cardiology. :') Cause I wanted my heart involved in this mess One 24hr holter monitor, echo, and heart ultrasound later, and I have a new heart condition. He said 'your heart is beating so fast you would normally see it with exercise' bada boom baby and has nothing to do with fucking ANXIETY >:[ I'm on heart medication. 10 meds. I need to start another med for my psych but that's 11 and I'm honestly getting upset because it's so fucking much medication in one day but every single one of them is necessary so what can really I do? Personal: Relationship with my mom is at an all time low. This is extremely unfortunate because a few weeks ago, my mom told me she is basically being 'laid off' (she's not losing her job for a while, just retiring earlier than expected) and I have to leave my home of 10 years by mid-August. Got no sympathy from her about it *finger guns* I've gone through the devastation of that and am kind of just stuck in how is any of that gonna work. My brother and I can't live together, so he's gonna move into a family friend's rental. Except he has no job and hasn't been able to get one in months. He started one on Monday, is gonna leave by Friday because it's horrific ig. Anyway my mom promises he won't be there. We have to move based on my disabilities and my mom's house is gonna have to reflect what we have here. I'll see it when I believe it. I don't trust her anymore. Extra unfortunate that I'm gonna be living 24/7 with my mother who has been an abusive person in my life the past two years. The short break thru the day that my apartment is just mine, quiet and gentle, is gonna be gone. I'll be introducing my solitary 11 year old cat Lilly into a house with 3 other cats. She only knew Isis her entire life. She was just diagnosed with neuro issues this year after going through an MRI. We don't know if she has seizure activity or if it's movement disorder, but the med she's on treats both and she has gotten better. Same process Isis went through. Cannot believe I have two cats with neuro issues and likely the same one. May 18th was one year since Isis passed. Rough, tiring day.

I don't know how it has been that long. Feels like it just happened. I can still see her and feel her through my apartment and losing it in August will probably shatter me most because of losing the last place she existed in. I miss her more than I can say.

She was my little soulmate and her absence is felt in every corner here. Writing/Fandom:

I went through a whole fucking situation over in the Stranger Things fandom that has left me not wanting to post anymore. Idk if neuro shit has destroyed my ability to write but it's humiliating and painful every time I post a fic.

I posted stucky (1 out of 2 fics this year) on my main acct and lost 8 fuckin user subs? Like goddamn. What'd stucky do 😭 anyway it was even more devastating and kinda like 'here's your big ass sign to keep your writing to yourself.'

Between the god awful shit that happened in the ST fandom and my inability to put together even a good one shot, I'm feeling really down about one of two creative things I can do in my life. I used to love sharing my stuff. I want to write and share but it feels like it's harming my MH. I can't draw or paint right now, either. And I can barely move around my apartment without pain. I can't even leave it except for doctor appointments.

Idk. Very walls are closing in type of feeling and I hate it. In short: I'm tired, struggling, and too many things are happening at once. I love you all 😩💜 thank you for your patience and love and kind words. Your support is felt through one update to the next. I hope you're all well and I'm sending all my love and hugs to you.

[ajokeformur-ray]

GOOD personal news!!!! (I am Proud™️ of myself)!!!!!

So, okay. I am slightly hesitant to share this in case it's only temporary, but @darklylucid very kindly told me to share it because it's good news and it's something to be proud of!!!❤️

TW; talks of negative anti-depressant side effects and me being irresponsible with prescribed medication, mentions of nausea and bad periods, mentions of health anxieties such as being sick as a result of medications and self-starvation (it's all because meds made me feel so sick I couldn't eat etc.), talks and discussions of stress, anxiety, depression and cognitive behavioural therapy, talks of doctors visits, one mention of covid boosters and bad side effects from that, one mention of passive suicidal ideation, this is a positive post but please read with caution if anything in this tw paragraph may upset or offend you!

I started therapy for my stress and severe anxiety five weeks ago. When I started, my anxiety and depression scores were both at 21/21. I was, essentially, a walking anxiety attack experiencing passive suicidal ideation.

Today, two weeks after uni officially started and five weeks after starting therapy, I scored 12/21 for both anixety and depression for the third week in a row, meaning both have improved to being moderate without medication!!!

(We all remember the absolute fear surrounding that fiasco and I still say medication wasn't the right treatment plan for me. I do have a prescription but I never picked it up and I won't pick it up because of how bad the physical side effects were. The nausea got so bad I was actively starving myself for seven weeks because I couldn't eat anything, while in the middle of end of year assignments and my job pulling me in for overtime constantly. My health anxiety, generalised anxiety and lifestyle couldn't sustain it. Everyone told me to "give it time", but after seven weeks of the worst periods I've ever had in my life and of constant nausea, I couldn't take it anymore so I quit my medication cold turkey without consulting my doctor. The medication was hurting me and not even working; I felt worse physically and mentally and my anxiety was still there, except I also felt like a zombie. I was offered a different medication but I never picked up the prescription for it out of fear that this would continue, since all SSRIs have the same side effects. I have told my therapist this and though she doesn't know any details beyond "I don't want to take it", she supports my decision. A week after I stopped my medication, my periods returned to normal and the nausea disappeared, my appetite came back and I felt better. I refuse to try again and have decided to focus on my therapy as the treatment plan. Medication isn't right for me and that's okay.)

I don't know if this improvement in my anxiety and depression is because of the therapy or because I now wake up at 3am to study before I go to work, which means that I study when I am fresh and well-rested, go to work, then come home and only have to relax, which means more free time. This decreases my stress, which lowers my anxiety and therefore improves my depression (my anxiety was so severe it caused the depression; they are not two separate conditions in my case), and means I can eat and sleep better and more.

The lifestyle switch and therapy both started at the same time, so I can't say for sure which has led to the improvement in my mental well-being, but I find myself not caring all that much. I am healing, I am doing well, I have had one anxiety attack in the last month, and that's... the news I wanted to share. My hair is gorgeous, I am eating and sleeping well, I am happier, healthier, I am not behind in uni, therapy is helping me... I'm not perfect, that would mean I don't exist, but I am healing and in a good place right now. I'm not sure if this is temporary, since uni has just started and I won't know until Christmas since that's when they throw us in at the deep end with the syllabus, but I still wanted to share this news.

I didn't think I could handle therapy, uni and my job at the same time, let alone looking for work experience in the mental health sector, but here I am, doing what I thought I couldn't, and dare I say it... I'm happy. I caught myself smiling while brushing my hair this morning, and apart from a few weeks ago when the covid booster gave me chest pains for a week, I can't remember the last time I had a tight chest due to stress and/or anxiety.

I can't thank you all enough for your friendships, encouragement, love, support, comments, asks... you've all helped me so so much, you do help me, and now I'm feeling better, I'm going to be looking at focusing on writing again. Especially since I'm not sure if this is temporary or not - but I feel hopeful for the future and for myself, for the first time in... a decade or so. I think I'm gonna be okay and right now, at least, I'm proud of myself.❤️

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Okay, y'all, I've been in a really weird place where I've been avoiding...pretty much a lot of stuff. Dunno if I have to talk to my doctor about upping my meds or what, but this is why I actually went on them--my depression manifests not in laziness, but avoiding things I need to do and things I actually WANT to do. Then I don't do them and it all starts building up. And then the to do pile feels insurmountable, like I'll never get to finish all these wonderful things. So I just...freeze up and roll over. Like a fainting goat. You'd think I'd be like "yay! lookit all the things to look forward to! I have years ahead of me full of things I really want to do! I should never be bored again!" But no. Can't do them Right Now? Fainting goat. It's weirdo. We've all got our weirdo and this is mine.

I only mention it here because I do State of the WIP Address to be accountable. Now, the weird thing is, I don't actually expect anyone to read these posts--they're boring and personal and totally for my own motivation. I just know myself and know if I put something out there, I'll feel bad if I don't do it and that should motivate me to actually do it.

But here's the thing....it doesn't work anymore. I'm no longer fulling for my own snake oil. The placebo has run out. If I know it's inconsequential, then my brain tricks me into thinking that I'm accountable to no one. And, in reality, it's true that I'm actually accountable to no one so the trick doesn't work.

Anyway. Welcome to Adira's brain where she finds her own thought patterns a fascinating psychological study and the lab results are inconclusive.

So I'mma try to twist the experiment a bit. Rather than list the things I know I can't get to right this second and feel bad about it, we're gonna let promises go and do it this way. It's not interesting to anyone but me and anyone who nerds out on process. But rather than listing the things I'm not working on, I'll talk about the ones I am, how it's going, what's in my craw about it, and maybe in my ramblings I'll clear the gears to start rolling again.

This isn't interesting to anyone but me unless you really wanna see how seriously I take my fic writing. Cringe if you want. I'm just being honest with myself. My fic isn't high art, but as with anything I create, I can't half-ass it either. It's "be satisfied with it on my terms" or bust.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I'm actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it's at: I'm writing for someone I think is a wonderful person and want to do right by them, so the pressure's on. But at the same time, it's not. Because I know how accepting and lovely the person is and they gave me a lot of prompts and options and like a lot of the things I do and seem to like a lot of the types of things I like to write. I also know that this doesn't have to be over-complicated, that I can write my heart and it will please both of us. While I haven't actually opened up a doc to start, I know that it's the type of thing that if I have a little uninterrupted block of time, I can just sit down and it will flow. I won't say much about it here, but I will say that while it can 100% be read as standalone, it hits on a character/series I'm currently writing and acts as a kind of prequel, a reason for loving the reader as he does. It's something that is kind of missing in the planned series and I think this would be a nice opportunity to explore it before moving forward (and maybe helping propel that series a little) while also touching on one of the characters my giftee likes, a genre they are interested in that I hadn't considered with this character, and it will have a tone I think they'll appreciate. So while it's for them and being written with their likes in mind, I thank them, because it's also a little gift for me and my yearnings. What's stopping me: Time constraints and general anxiety.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it's at: This one got a little sloppy and I'm working on it. I've been following @max--phillips' entries about what defines certain types of kinks and while my thoughts on dom!Pero started as true dom, they swung wrong when I started working on this, and now I'm just thinking myself back to the definition of dominant. And while I may still be missing the mark, it's helping me to think more about how I want to explore and frame this dynamic. It's also giving me a little trouble in that it's not coming out chronologically which causes me to waste time jumping around and retrofitting things. What's stopping me: I put this one on hold to start prioritizing the Secret Santa piece.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it's at: This piece is flowing chronologically. It's going to be longer than I anticipated and the first draft is about 1/3 done. I already know that after the first draft I'll have to do some shaping and I think maybe I got overwhelmed with the task I set for myself and that triggered my avoidance. I know where it's going, I'm excited for it, it will flow easily if I let it, I just have to do it! What's stopping me: I put this one on hold because I got distracted by tasty Pero thoughts. I blame @perotovar for the thots, but not the stopping. That's all on me.

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it's at: I'm about 1/2 done with the first draft. Again, this one will be longer (and also more angsty) than I anticipated. I love love love where it's going though and reader and Javi's history is beautiful and sad and complex; I really love that half. I'm just now switching into the modern day section of it and have to make a few decisions about how I actually want it to go. My mind is over-complicating the story and I'm trying to wrestle it down a softer path. What's stopping me: I got distracted by the Oberyn story which is why this one's on hold and now this is all Inceptioning on itself.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it's at: The asks are all sorted, there are only a few more sessions left before chapter 4. I just have to write it. What's stopping me: Here's the thing about PATS. If I was out for notes, I'd be pounding on this series, because it's my most popular one. But... really, I'm just here to dream up stories I like to tell. I put PATS down not consciously and not because I don't love him, but I got excited by other ideas. I want to finish it because I don't like having a bunch of unfinished projects lying around, but I also don't want that to be my #1 motivator for writing him. I want to enjoy it. I did enjoy putting the latest installment out, but I also don't feel like I'm letting anyone down if I don't hurry it, just because engagement is low. Again, I'm not here for the notes, I truly love the connection and the squeeing and sharing a yearn. We're all so busy now that it's tough to get to everything and the mutual timing is a bit off. That's okay. It's planned out, it'll get done, I just have to do it when I'm feeling it.

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it's at: Finished plan. Yet to begin writing. What's stopping me: I was wrestling with this one for a bit because I had two directions it could go--soft and fluffy without much meat, or weaving all the details together and serving a story that gets rather dark, a little sad, and serves as a fix it. On one hand, I felt like I would be betraying readers by not keeping the euphoric escape. But I would also feel like I built this whole backstory that needed to manifest itself in a test for Joel and Meadowlark, as well as the fact that--other than backstories--there hasn't been any canon hardship or violence displayed. It's like I'm missing a huge chunk of who Joel and Meadowlark are. In the end, that's where the story wants to go, so I'm going there. And I have to not think about what anyone else wants, just me. Not just for selfish reasons, but I know that's when I do my best. It doesn't mean there won't still be fluff and a happy ending. It just means I have to write darkness and perhaps it will serve me better to do it in the season in which it takes place.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Villains - Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Ellis: The baguettes here are delicious. I bought some the other day and ate them all before I knew it.

Ellis: Victor missed out on it and sulked for a while.

Kate: Hehe, I'm looking forward to eating it. Which jam do you recommend?

Ellis: The most popular here is marmalade, but I often buy cranberry.

Ellis: But if you don't want it, you can pick whatever you want.

Kate: Don't worry, I love them both!

Ellis: Then let's buy them both.

Kate: What!?

We bought baguettes, jam, honey, ham, pickles, and many other things.

(He keeps on recommending places to eat.)

(We're still prepping for the picnic, but I'm already having fun.)

Kate: I live here in London, but I have no idea this kind of restaurant exists.

Ellis: Finding good restaurants is my hobby.

Kate: Is it because you want to introduce them to people like this?

Ellis: Why do you think so?

Kate: It's just something I see when I talk to people in town.

People were giving me looks for being in a wheelchair, but they were surprisingly tolerant because they knew Ellis for his kindness.

Mechanic: You're making that stuff again, Ellis. Maybe you can help us at our factory again if you have the time.

Ellis: Sure. Jude said I can take next Tuesday off.

Shop clerk: Ellis! Perfect timing. Can you hold that for a second?

Ellis: Like this? This dress is the one Ted bought last time. Do you think it's going to sell?

Shop clerk: Of course! We're actually doing great after you introduce some great buyers.

Shop clerk: Oh yeah, are you still working for that shady Yakuza company?

Ellis: I'll stay with Jude until I fulfill my promise.

Fruit vendor: Are you hurt, Miss?

Kate: Um, yes. I twisted my ankle a little.

Fruit vendor: You're still a good boy, Ellis. Here, take this apple and go.

Ellis: Thanks. By the way, the meds you said you wanted are available at Bates' pharmacy.

Fruit vendor: You remembered? I'm glad. I'll give you this as a bonus.

(Ellis is so dedicated to everyone, not just to me.)

No wonder the people of the city love him like this.

Ellis: You're smiling. What's wrong?

Kate: Looking at you makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

Ellis: Hm? I don't get it, but you look cute.

(Cute?)

Ellis: We've already got the basket full, so it's time to go.

(Maybe the secret to being loved is being able to say these things easily.)

Carrying the basket full of things we bought and received, we unfolded the sheet as we arrived at the beautiful flower garden.

Kate: Yum! I swear, these baguettes are so good!

Ellis: I'm glad. I recommend toasting it with lots of butter.

Kate: Let's leave some and take it home. I want to do that tomorrow morning.

Ellis: Fufu, okay. I'll peel the apples. Just give me a minute.

I found myself smiling, seeing him act like a true lover. It was thanks to him I felt happy since this morning.

(I never thought I could spend my time so peacefully when I sprained my ankle.)

Kate: Haaa, I'm so happy.

Ellis: Really? I'm glad.

Ellis: Hey, Kate.

Kate: Hmm, what is it?

Ellis: How happy are you right now?

Kate: Hm, let's see. This may be the happiest I've been in months.

Ellis: I see.

He whispered as he dexterously peeled the apples with a black-bladed knife.

Ellis: I guess it's hard to make someone feel like they're the happiest person in their life on the first date.

Kate: Is that what you were going for...?

Ellis: Yeah. Here's your apple.

He offered a neatly peeled and bite-size apple.

(Ugh. Does he want to feed it to me? This is embarrassing.)

With that thought in mind, I meekly opened my mouth to play along.

(He's really dedicated to doing this much for my first job.)

(How can he be so kind to others' happiness?)

Ellis: Have you ever been so happy that you wish time would stop?

Kate: Time would stop?

Ellis: Yes. Feeling that the moment is so perfect that you don’t need the future anymore.

Kate: I don’t think so.

Ellis: I see. I’m glad.

Kate: You’re glad?

Ellis: Because if you haven’t felt it yet, I can make you feel the happiest you’ll ever be someday.

(I’ve never heard anyone say something so sweet before.)

(Wait, why am I getting serious? I’ve got to get in on the act since we’re acting as lovers!)

Kate: Then I’ll make you the happiest guy in the world!

Ellis: Me?

Kate: I’m your lover, so I just can’t let you take all the credit for our happiness.

Kate: What makes you happy?

Ellis: I...

Ellis: I can’t think of any.

(He’s always thinking about other people’s happiness, yet he doesn’t seem to have any attachment to his own.)

The slight difference in his personality was both strange and unique.

Kate: Then let’s find your happy moments together.

Ellis: Ah...

Kate: Hm?

Ellis: Maybe when you’re smiling.

(I’ll never be able to compete with him when it comes to pampering a lover.)

I almost took the act seriously and quickly turned my head away.

Kate: Please tell that to your real lover.

Ellis: What do you mean?

Kate: Saying those sweet things.

Ellis: I was just saying what I thought. Besides, you seem kind of happy.

Kate: “.........”

He peeked in, making me blush.

Ellis: “..........”

Ellis blinked his eyes as if something had hit him and gently pushed me down.

Kate: Whoa...wait...Ellis一

Ellis: If you were my real lover, would you be more honestly happy for me?

Kate: Huh?

Ellis: I wish I could be your lover because I feel like I could make you happier.

Ellis: Be my real lover, Kate.

I looked up at him, stunned, as he loomed over me.

Kate: D-Don’t tease me.

Ellis: I’m not teasing you.

(This is the first time we’ve spent time alone together, and now he’s asking me to be his lover?)

(Even if it’s just a pretend game, it’s a little too much.)

Kate: I know you would do a lot to make me happy, but that's the kind of thing you should say to the person you love.

Ellis: I like you, but still, no?

(Is he serious?)

Ellis: I will make you happy.

Ellis: I will live for that reason.

His words, which sounded like an unrequited love, were obviously a lie.

However, his twilight-colored eyes staring at me had an unusual warmth, as if they were telling the truth.

(Something's not right.)

His hands on either side of my face gave me the illusion of being trapped in a cage.

I felt like if I nodded, I wouldn't be able to go anywhere else.

Kate: I-I...

Kate: I need to know more about you before I can respond.

Ellis: I see. Okay.

He gently sat up and helped me up as well.

Ellis: Then, I'm going to teach you a lot about me until you get to know me.

Kate: Sure.

He was still smiling, but the disturbing illusion I had just experienced was twisting around my body like ivy.

The day went on, and the wind grew colder as we talked about other things.

He put me in the wheelchair again, and we returned to the castle.

(He really didn't let me walk most of the day.)

As soon as we stepped into the forest leading to the castle, he abruptly stopped.

Kate: Ellis, is something wrong?

Ellis: There might be a bit of trouble. Geez, I just had a happy day.

Kate: What?

Ellis: If you’re scared, just close your eyes. It’ll all be over soon.

Part 1╏Part 2╏Premium End╏Epilogue