#i might also be going back on adhd meds

[biohazard-inevitable]

Officially applied for college again today…

Now I have a reason to go out in public dressed like an utter loon

[barkingangelbaby]

venting so much i ran out of tags lmao

[orcelito]

So yeah I don't think I'm gonna manage ITNL update tonight. Too tired for writing brain. But I'm gonna keep working at it. Maybe tomorrow, if I'm lucky. If not then, then Monday.

The good news is I have Three days off next week (decadent!) So I'm gonna have more time for. Things.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Oh yeah uh. No I didn't get the Chica design stuff done yesterday I got absorbed in the maths of horses on car parks. Uhhh sorry?

If things go well, I may start offering doodle requests for good reference pictures of Mazercise though so we have that to look forward to I guess lmao

[livsspecialinterests]

idk what specific pathology is responsible for this but whenever I feel bad I literally cannot comprehend ever not feeling bad again

[peppermintbutch]

The next semester is going to KILL me. Bachelor thesis which idk what I want to write about AT ALL and if my adhd brain is even able to do it, two seminars that are probably gonna be super boring bcs the seminars this semester all suck for some reason AND immediately after that I have to do a work experience and write a report abt that. Oh and the semester starts NEXT WEEK

[melonpond]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[thefrostysoldier]

my tumblr experience has now returned to the 2012 experience of scrolling down my dash in the morning until i reach the previous night's posts and it's wonderful

[positivelyghastly]

Just off the phone with my doctor and it’s now officially in my files that I have hEDS instead of just being medically recognised! HUGE fucking step forward considering I’ve been waiting 2 years for an appointment with a rheumatologist

[dagasinfilo]

god i need to get this bitch diagnosed

[skullamity]

PSA for trans men and trans mascs on T who are afraid of/concerned about or experiencing male pattern baldness: Talk to your endocrinologist who monitors your T about hair loss before you talk to anyone else, you have options!

When the hair in the top of my head started to thin, I talked to my regular GP. She told me it should be fine to use Rogaine topically. There were no other options, either because she was somehow not aware OR was under the impression that alternatives might interfere with HRT. If this was the case, she did not relay this info to me, and if she had, I would have made an early appointment with my endocrinologist, who specialises in HRT for trans people specifically, and asked her about my options.

But, since I only have appointments once a year with my endo now because my levels are generally super consistent, I decided to try Rogaine. I lasted about a month, because it basically meant I had to wear a lined hat at all times to make sure I wasn't getting any on my pillow/cats/child. You need to apply it two to three times a day and leave it on your scalp for a couple of hours for the best results, every day, forever, and if you stop using it, your hair goes back to whatever it was up to before that made you concerned in the first place. I quit after a month and resigned myself to eventually going bald.

I finally had a phone appointment with my endo last week (was supposed to be in person but she had an emergency and was working remotely for the day), and when I brought this up and that I had tried Rogaine but couldn't deal with all of the above + my scalp was not reacting well to the alcohol in the foam so I quit, she was like ????? what? why didn't your GP just prescribe you finasteride???

I am now on finasteride! It is a dirt cheap, tiny ass pill. I only need to take a quarter of a pill once a day (my endo also helpfully explained to me that pill cutters exist and are also dirt cheap, so perfectly cutting a pill into quarters takes about 5 seconds and I got it for a whopping $8). Just like Rogaine, I WILL need to take it every day, forever, but it's not going to get all over my pillow and make my cats sick or cause my kid to grow a beard or whatever. It isn't going to dry my scalp out, and it also the cost comparison is a joke. I take it every morning at the same time I take my adhd meds, so it's easy to remember.

I have seen so, so many trans men and mascs online lately worried about this, probably because I've seen so many conservatives and the kind of detrans people that conservatives like to parade around put a lot of emphasis about how T will make you UGLY and make all of your hair fall out. I do feel sorry for any detrans women who are dealing with wonky hairlines or male pattern baldness, but also it sure is convenient that none of them see fit to mention that if you are experiencing those things, you can literally just talk to your endocrinologist about what your options are and then take a quarter of a pill every day to fix it. Almost like making you aware of that might move you away from their end goal, which is getting you to detransition.

[bratzforchris]

Sunflowers

Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.

Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader

Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!

ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety. 

Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door. 

The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for. 

Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with. 

“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”

Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone. 

Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”

The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter. 

“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”

Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up. 

“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds. 

As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself. 

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task. 

The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown. 

Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful. 

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully. 

Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated. 

The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online. 

The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him. 

“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”

Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”. 

“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy. 

Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully. 

“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”

“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails. 

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.

Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered. 

“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”

Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them. 

“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic. 

“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated. 

“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal. 

Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him. 

“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly. 

“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy. 

You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed. 

“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug. 

You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you. 

“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”

“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you. 

“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered. 

“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to bed added to my taglist, click here <3

[lostgirlmuseum]

Pulse 💗

Summary: Bucky can hear your heartbeat through the wall, and he can tell everything isn’t alright.

Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader

Words: 600 (exactly 600, holy moly)

Warnings: None really, just mentions of anxiety and adhd. Wrote this within an hour, sorry if its bad

A/N: Self indulgent fic alert! This goes out to all my peeps who struggle with ADHD/anxiety. It sucks, but hang in there!

Divider credit: @saradika

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” you called, not looking up from the papers on your desk.

A brief second passed, and the door creaked open. A cautious Bucky peeked his head in.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

You suddenly became aware of your leg bouncing 70 miles an hour, and forced yourself to stop. 

“Yes, why?” You replied, ignoring the urge to get up and walk around.

“Well, I—” he hesitated, and brought his hand to rub the back of his neck, “I was passing by and I heard your heartbeat going really fast—super hearing and all that,” he awkwardly chuckled.

“120,” you stated, glancing at your watch.

“What?”

“My heart rate is 120 right now.”

“That’s pretty high for just sitting,” he responded, having a hard time hiding his concern.

“Well, y’know, anxiety,” you breathily laughed, but it wasn’t that funny.

“What are you anxious about? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Nothing.” You sighed, lowering your pen and facing him. At this point he was now in your room, perched in front of your door.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Seriously, I’m kinda freaking out over nothing right now.”

“C’mon, you’re always telling me I’m valid for having concerns, you are too.”

“No, I mean there is literally no singular thing I’m anxious about right now—it’s just physical anxiety, the general feeling that I’m going crazy, or dying, I don’t know, both I guess. That sounds so dramatic. I really am fine. I mean, I’m not fine, but I am, yeah?” You rambled on and on, and cursed yourself when you noticed your leg had started bouncing again.

“I don’t think you’re okay, do you want me to bring you to Dr. Cho?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think there’s much she can do. The worst of this should pass in thirty minutes anyway, it’s just my meds.”

“Oh.” 

You could tell Bucky wanted to ask more, but wasn’t sure if it was polite.

“I have ADD. ADHD, whatever you want to call it. So I take medicine so I can focus on certain tasks, like these reports. And it does help me focus, but it’s also a stimulant, so it also gives me a lot of anxiety, which is totally awesome!” You scoffed.

“Why do you keep stopping your leg from bouncing?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to annoy you.”

“If bouncing your leg makes you feel better, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I feel like I’m embarrassing myself,” you whined. 

Beep.

You looked at your watch.

“Oh, look at that, 126!”

“Do you—would…would a hug be something that would help you? Calm you down?” He offered, casually putting his arms out for emphasis.

“Sure, Bucky,” you smiled, and stood up to meet him halfway. You knew it wouldn’t fix it, but it certainly couldn’t hurt.

Bucky wrapped you in a big embrace, and you were shocked by how warm and teddy-like it was. You gave a small sigh, and rested your face in his neck, knowing you weren’t going to be the first to let go.

He held onto you for longer than you expected, just calmly swaying together in your room. 

To your dismay, he eventually let go of you. You were about to thank him and return to your work, but he gently grabbed your wrist and brought your watch to his sight. 

“107. Good, but I think we can do better than that,” he sweetly smiled, and wrapped you back up into his arms. 

“It might take a while.” You mumbled into his shirt.

“As long as it takes.” He cooed.

A/N: Should be either A) studying for a history exam I have tmw, or B) writing my stupid essay that the rough draft is due tmw, but I wrote this instead bc I’m procrastinating  HELP ME

[cocklessboy]

So here's the thing about having a post break containment on tumblr: if you make a mistake in the original post, there's absolutely fucking nothing you can do about it.

The people reblogging once you realize your mistake aren't reblogging it from your blog. They're reblogging it from someone you never even knew existed. If you edit the original, it does not affect the copies already being passed around.

You can make an addition to the post with a correction! But here's the thing. Posts tend to break containment if they are tagged and people see it in the tags they follow. But reblogs don't appear in tags. Only original posts do. So your addition will only be reblogged by people who follow you, and it's pretty rare for a post with a correction added in a reblog to break containment in the same way as the original.

So you wind up getting a lot of reblogs with angry comments about how you're wrong (and that's if they're being polite - the less polite ones will attack you rather viciously, which is not something I would wish on anyone). And even if you didn't make a mistake, if there's something you didn't make clear enough for Tumblr Reading Comprehension™️, you'll wind up inundated with angry comments from people who missed the point, and it's too late to go back and adjust your wording to make it clearer.

(That's why I'm making a new post for this instead of responding to the comments I got on the post in question, by the way. I'm hoping some of the same people who spread around the original might spot this one in the tags and share it around as well.)

So what is this about? I recently made a post about how a friend was worried that I was addicted to my ADHD meds purely because I said I look forward to taking them and they bring me joy.

The purpose of that post was:

Something bringing you joy doesn't necessarily make it addictive. (For fuck's sake stop being afraid of pleasure.)

Even if something is addictive, that's not inherently harmful.

Don't be afraid to take your meds just because they might be addictive. If they help you more than they harm you, take them.

I also made a comment about how my ADHD meds aren't addictive anyway. This is the point people have been pouncing on me about. So allow me to explain where that assertion came from.

My psychiatrist, an ADHD specialist who manages my meds: I know you're nervous about addiction and tolerance to meds, but don't worry. If you have ADHD, methylphenidate is not physically addictive.

My GP, who I got a second opinion from out of nervousness: Yup, your psychiatrist is right. You don't need to be afraid to take these. Take them as directed and you will not form a physical dependence on them. If you notice them getting less effective with time, though, you can always just take a break from them to remove any tolerance.

Me, after a year and a half of taking these meds: Yup, no addiction here. I guess my doctors were right.

So here we are. Two doctors and my own personal experience have assured me that ADHD meds are not something to be afraid of. Yet I keep seeing people afraid to take their meds because they're afraid of dependence. So why don't I do a nice thing in this post of mine and reassure my fellow gremlin-brained tumblrs that their meds are perfectly safe to take!

And to be fair, I've gotten quite a few reblogs with tags and additions and comments saying thank you, I was afraid to take my meds, even though they help me, but now I'm reassured that I shouldn't be scared.

And I think that's a positive outcome.

On the other hand, I'm getting some very angry comments from some people who seem to think I'm attempting to spread a vicious, intentional lie claiming that people with ADHD are immune to stimulant addiction and that I'm going to do all kinds of harm, presumably on purpose, because there's nothing I enjoy more than ruining other people's lives! 🙌

I would assume that anyone who thought about this for more than three seconds would realize that's not the case, but this is tumblr.

I've gotten angry rants ranging from "this author you've never heard of wrote a book where he defined addiction as inherently harmful, and therefore you're harming people by saying being addicted to something is not inherently bad!" to "STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!" to "OP is making statements that are incompatible with reality!" and folks? I'm real fucking tired of it.

Is it possible that my doctors are wrong? Of course! Doctors get things wrong all the time, especially when it comes to stuff like ADHD! But yelling at me from across the internet and accusing me of lying is not helpful.

There is nothing I can do about the original post. I can reblog it with an addition clarifying that yes, everyone is capable of becoming psychologically dependent on basically anything in a way that would be considered addiction, and yes, that includes ADHD people and their meds.

To be clear, this does NOT contradict the intent of my original post: that ADHD meds are good, you should take them, medication making you feel good is nothing to fear, pleasure is not the same as addiction, addiction is not inherently dangerous, and according to my doctors, who are fallible human beings but my most trusted source of information as of the writing of that post, ADHD meds are not physically addictive - as in, your BODY will not become dependent on them to function. This is the definition of "addiction" I had in mind when I wrote that post - and I think in a lot of cases the thing upsetting people is that we don't even actually disagree on what we're trying to say, but there was a miscommunication in terms of what I actually meant.

If I could go back and edit that original post and have it change everywhere it's been reblogged, I absolutely would. I would clarify where my information was coming from and what definition of "addiction" I intended, and reiterate that even if something can cause physical dependence, that doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't take it.

But I can't. That post is out there now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Keep this in mind as you go forward in your tumblr journey, friends. If you come across a semi-popular post with a mistake in it, you can bet every bit of your ass that OP has heard about it many, many times already, probably in very impolite terms, and there is nothing they can do about the original post. Unless they're a massively popular blog, a reblog with an addition or correction will not be seen by the people spreading around the original.

And for fuck's sake, stop assuming ill intent on the part of people who say something incorrect online. There are people out there who intentionally spread misinformation, but those people are rare, and usually trying to get you to not vote democrat in US elections, not trying to encourage you to take your fucking meds. If you see a mistake, it's probably an honest one, and if you really want to correct it, be a decent fucking human being, be polite and kind, and try assuming good intentions on the part of the person who said it.

The person telling you to take your meds is not your fucking enemy.

Oh, and do me a favor and reblog this, please. I actually have very few followers so no one will see it if it doesn't get reblogged. Thank you.

[alexaloraetheris]

I juat remembered the day, about two months ago, when I went to renew my perscription and ended up derailed by some kind of divine influence that really, really wanted my help. 😂

So I have an appointment at 9. First thing I do is sleep in because my alarm simply did not ring. First time that happened. I cursed out the damn phone and ordered a taxi, which I had specifically hoping to avoid because of the traffic congestion.

My driver is a woman a bit older than me, and she's in a good mood so we chat. She told me she was thinking of moving to [city on the coast] because taxi drivers are paid better there, and I tell her I have family there, we comment on what it's like to drive in a city essentially built into three hills and a cliff. She mentiones she has scoliosis, and it sometimes impacts her ability to sit in a car for long periods of time. I had scoliosis as well, but I had managed to fix it with exercises almost completely so I recommended my physical therapist, and assured her it's not too late, because some of the people in my therapy group were even older than her. When she let me off she thanked me for the help.

Feeling good that, even if I had to pay out the nose for the ride, I got there in time and even managed to do a good deed. I rush in, tell the reception guy I'm here to see my doctor and settle in to wait.

Two hours later, I see people being called in but not my name. I ask why, and doctor looks at me blankly and says I'm not in the system. I have to tell the reception I've arrived so I show up on his schedule.

I'm mentally cursing out the entire hospital, but I wasn't raised by wolves. I thank the doctor, politely tell the different receptionist that the last guy probably didn't hear me when I told him my appointment, got added in and went back to wait.

Ten minutes later, a visibly nervous girl with freshly printed papers sits in the waiting room. I'm in a bit of a mood, but I'm also a firm believer in helping if I can. I paste on a smile and ask 'First time?' and she admits she just got sent here for a potential ADHD diagnosis and she had no idea what to do. Having been there and knowing exactly how hard it was to do it on your own, I gave her the number of the psychologist who made my diagnosis, assured her that the psychiatrist she was here to see is the same one I have and that he's a good guy, explained what ADHD actually was and how the meds work. She was neraly crying with relief by the time I was done, and I promised she could send me questions if she needs to.

I finally, finally go in for my appointment in a slightly better mood, only for my psychiatrist to tell me Concerta is no longer imported, I have to go on some other meds and for that I need my family doctor to sign off on a regular perscription instead of getting an Rx perscription from him.

This is the worst case scenario, because I do NOT want my mother, who thinks ADHD was invented by quack American psychologists to sell expensive meds to parents with unruly children, to know I have ADHD. So I mentally curse out the entire healthcare system, go to the family doctor and explain the situation, that my mother absolutely CANNOT know about my diagnosis. Even though the doctor was not aware of my diagnosis so far, she listens attentively, and we make sure that my mom can't check the insurance we're both under to see what meds I'm on or that if she checks my name in the pharmacy directory she can't see me either.

I thought I handled that situation rather well but I must have looked more worried than I thought, because the doctor admitted her high-school age granddaughter had been asking questions about psychologists and antidepressants and she had so far been dismissive. But if she really needs help, she might do the same thing I did and seek help on her own, and my doctor realized she ought to either change her attitude fast or be left in the dark while her granddaughter is struggling. So I told her which psychologist I went to when I was also a depressed high schooler and how it helped and what I would have wanted my family to keep in mind. She thanks me and hands me a new perscription and sends me on my way.

So by now I am starting to notice a pattern.

Now, I'm actually an atheist, and I have 'Culturally Catholic' as a flaw and a laundry list of Stuff(TM) I have had to unlearn, but sometimes I really wonder if Someone Up There looked at me that day and thought:

"Hmm, looks like I have three problems I can solve with one well-positioned dumbass. Time to ruin her day for the good of the world!"

I mean. Happy to help but I really hope ruining my day won't be necessary next time.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 4

Hey so AO3 went down and that kinda sucked BUT it did allow me to get some writing done soooo... here you go!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

The two children Steve had sent to replace him were god damn menaces.

Well, maybe not children but they were still so goddamn young.

And they didn’t let him get away with anything. Standing over him with their arms crossed and twin looks of disapproval on their faces like the god-damn Men in Black of babysitters.

He wasn’t, like, under house arrest or anything. He was still able to get his fix whenever he wanted. He was still able to drink himself into oblivion, but they didn’t handle him with as much care as Steve had.

He had numerous opportunities to go out and get laid six ways from Sunday as well but… he wasn’t really feeling it.

Though he refused to pinpoint why.

“You know, this would have never happened if you’d just show me the list.” Eddie crossed his own arms, trying to put as much petulant haughtiness into his tone as he could muster, lying where he landed in the grass of his back garden with his pants around his ankles. At least his underwear had stayed on.

This time.

How did he get there?

Didn’t matter.

That tree was out to get him. Fuck that tree. That tree was no longer his number two favourite climbing tree. It had been bumped down to number eight to go along with the tree that dropped an apple on his head like he was Newton and the tree that had covered him in sticky sap that took forever to get off.

The woman, Max, who perpetually had her red hair in a long braid down her back, cocked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t ever remember telling him he couldn’t see the list." She said with an air of nonchalance, looking over at her co-babysitter. "Do you, Dustin?”

“You know, I think you’re right, Max." Dustin matched her tone. "I think Eddie just assumed he wasn’t allowed to see it and ran with it.”

“Hey, fuck you, man." Eddie pointed up at him. "You're supposed to be on my side. Nerds of a feather.”

"I'm on the side of the truth. Like any good scientist."

"You're a babysitter."

Dustin shrugged. "And I have hobbies."

Max rolled her eyes. “Pull your pants back up like a good little boy and I’ll show you the list.”

“I could fire you on the spot, Red, don’t test me.”

She bent low, placing her hands on her knees so she was looming menacingly over him.

“Do it." She grinned down at him. "I fucking dare you.”

Eddie scoffed. "Whatever." 

But he did still stand, bucking his pants back up.

Despite everything he was loath to admit he really liked those two. They didn't take any of his shit and they treated him like a human person rather than some mythical celebrity they had to bow and scrape to.

He held his hand out expectantly.

“Oh, we don’t have it on us.” Max said, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. “It’s on the kitchen counter.”

“Fuck off 'it’s on the kitchen counter.'”

“No, it is.” Dustin nodded. “We put it there last week.”

“We’re keeping a running tally for how many times you’ve walked past it.”

“I think we’re up to fifteen now?”

Eddie did not stomp his foot. “That’s so not fair! You know I’m off my meds!”

“You’re off your meds because of the amount of recreational shit you imbibe. That’s on you." Dustin poked him in the chest. "Maybe if you were sober for five minutes you’d have noticed it.”

Eddie turned his back on them and started to make his way towards the house. They might have had a point as to why he was off his ADHD meds but Eddie was a stubborn fucker so he’d never admit it to them.

He snatched up the list that he genuinely only just noticed for the first time because it was pointed out to him and eagerly read through Steve’s recognisable handwriting.

It was a lot shorter than he thought it would be but also it kind of covered everything?

Make sure he keeps himself alive.

Don’t let him do stupid shit.

Don’t let him kill himself with:

Alcohol poisoning.

Drug overdose.

Some super fucked up STD.

Eating shellfish by accident again.

Chasing a balloon into traffic or whatever.

If you have to put him in a protective bubble, do it.

Max, if he gets mean, get meaner.

Dustin, if he tries to worm his way out of listening to you by claiming to be ‘cool’, remind him of the time he wore a plain black suit to the Met Gala-

“Okay!��� Eddie shouted into the kitchen around him, slamming the list back down with a smack. “Low fucking blow, Steve!”

“I mean, it’s true isn’t it?” Max pointed out, pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

“Listen,” he ran a hand through his hair, keeping his volume high, “It was one time and it was my first Met, I was nervous, alright?! Plus! It wasn’t even a plain black suit, it was Chanel, hello??” He waved his hand around. “It had accessories??”

Dustin leaned his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands. “Steve wore yellow.”

“Yes, I know Steve wore yellow-”

“He wore a beautifully cut little yellow suit with a cape and he wasn’t even there as your plus one,” Max smirked, “he was there as your assistant and he was still better dressed than you.”

“Alright-”

“Rhianna complimented him. Said great minds think alike.”

“She was in nothing but a cape so-” Eddie threw his head back in offence. “Whatever, good luck keeping up with me, children. I’m gonna go find some prawns or some scallops and you two,” he pointed at each of them in turn, “can explain my big fat puffy face to Steve when he gets back in a few days.”

Neither of them were even remotely phased.

Eddie was practically rattling by the time Steve was due to fly back in from… wherever he’d been. Even though he probably wouldn’t see him immediately.

Like, the guy had his own home to go to, his own stuff to get reacquainted with.

His own platonic soulmate to reunite with.

So why would he call over? Steve had his own life. He had no... no obligation to come see Eddie immediately.

And that was fine.

Eddie would see him tomorrow, more than likely.

So it was no big deal.

It was fine.

It had been nearly a month since they’d spoken. It was the longest stretch of time they’d gone apart in… Jesus nearly ten years?

And Eddie had handled it fine. 

He had been so normal about it.

It wasn’t like he’d been missing a limb.

It wasn’t like half his heart had been ripped out and shipped off on a plane to wherever.

Wasn't like he'd been thinking about Steve every day, every night, every spare fucking moment he had.

Why would he?

He was... it was all... everything was fine.

He was sitting in his basement studio, plucking a stream of consciousness on his guitar that sometimes crystallised into something coherent and sometimes was something that was stuck in his head.

He looked like a ratty mess, the same worn out pyjama pants and band tees that had been with him ever since he lived in a trailer park in rural Indiana.

They were comfort clothes more than anything at this stage.

His hair… he couldn’t be dealing with his hair right now, it seemed to be out to irritate him on that particular day. Every time a strand brushed against his neck or his cheek it made him want to crawl out of his skin. He’d yanked it violently up onto the top of his head, but each repeated, frustrated shoving of a stray strand back into the bun just caused more to fall out.

He was trying desperately to distract himself but his blood was itching for… something.

He hadn’t had a good fix in a while, he wanted to be sober and clear headed for when he saw Steve again but the heightened anxiety really wasn’t helping the situation. He didn’t usually get so twitchy when he was sober, but then again, he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been actively trying to stay away from everything. 

And maybe that shocked him a little more than it should.

Maybe it scared him just the right amount.

But it could easily be a losing battle because there were hidden nooks and crannies everywhere in his house holding some kind of mind altering substance in them. Even on the couch in his studio he could probably reach down in between the cushions and pull out a baggy of pills he'd forgotten down there at some point. He didn’t even know what half the pills he found dotted around were anymore, they could be sugar for all he knew but they were there and they wouldn’t stop whispering to him.

He wasn’t even conscious of what he was playing. It was only when he realised he was muttering lyrics to himself that he figured out what was living in his brain and automatically spilling out around him.

Somebody (Somebody) Ooh, somebody (Somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Eddie softly snorted to himself, a little self deprecatingly. Oh, the irony, he thought, especially considering-

“That’s my favourite.”

Eddie whipped around to see Steve fucking Harrington leaning against the door of his studio.

He looked, well, there was no word for it other than glowing. His skin was darker, his hair a touch lighter, the dusting of freckles over his nose had exploded in volume and pigmentation and he looked good. He looked so good. 

More than that, it was like he’d brought the sunlight back with him because he’d clearly been somewhere sunny, maybe on a tropical beach somewhere. Somewhere that suited him as a person.

It was like the smell of the ocean entered the room with him.

“Stevie!” Eddie shot up from the couch, discarding his guitar a little carelessly before all but throwing himself at him, arms and legs wrapped around him, clinging on for dear life. “You’re back! You’re here!”

Steve stiffened up momentarily, unusually, before relaxing into it, holding him tight. “I’m here.” He muttered softly into Eddie’s neck.

“Tell me everything sweetheart, how was it? Where did you go? What was it like not to have to run around after an overgrown toddler such as myself-?” Eddie pulled away with a smile, back on solid ground but his grin faltered when he noticed Steve’s own smile had an almost sad tilt to it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He shrugged off Eddie’s concern. “Went to Hawaii. It was a good time, I’d recommend it to you but I don’t know how well your skin would be able to take that much sun.” He laughed. It was almost performative. He wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes anymore. “Met some people. Had some fun. You know, vacation stuff. How were Dustin and Max, could they keep up with you?”

Eddie swallowed and tried not to let the cold wash of emotion completely pull him under. “You- you met some people, huh?” He was going for light. He really was going for light, but it came out just a touch too shaky to really pull it off.

“Yeah.”

“What kind of people?”

“I dunno, people. You know, vacation people.”

Eddie nodded and tried to shove everything, everything he was feeling far, far away. He had no right to feel so heartbroken, he didn’t.

Steve was… he deserved to let loose.

And if that meant meeting some people while away on vacation, that was none of Eddie’s god-damn business. After all, it was nothing compared to what he’d been doing to Steve for years.

“Right.”

Steve frowned at him. “What’s with the face?”

“What face?”

“That face.” He circled his finger around Eddie’s head. “You look like I just killed your dog.”

Eddie shook his head. “Did you find what you were looking for? Out there?”

There was a pause.

“I thought I did.” Steve crossed his arms. “I thought I had… escaped it, I suppose? But,” he sighed, “I think I know now it’s going to be with me forever.”

He looked up again, fixing Eddie with that same sad smile, like Eddie couldn’t see right through him, like he couldn’t tell. But how long had Steve been looking at him like that and how many times had Eddie not seen it?

Steve had thought he'd escaped him.

Or escaped his soul-crushing and unrequited love.

But was it even unrequited?

Last month Eddie would have been sure the answer was an unfortunate yes, it was unrequited.

But now he wasn't so sure.

The last month without Steve had been torture.

Steve had left on vacation to escape Eddie's effect on him, had met up with vacation people and thought it had worked...

Then he came back and...

Eddie needed to sit down.

He dropped himself heavily back down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

“Sounds like some kind of tragic love story.” He muttered into the space between them.

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was soft. “I think it is.”

Eddie looked up at him, heart breaking in two just from how resigned to his fate Steve sounded and Eddie could feel it. He could feel it, like he knew, like he felt the same, like he’d been… for all this time…

“What were you escaping?” He asked, his voice smaller than he was used to hearing it. It was a dick question, it was a hard question to even get out but he had to know.

He had to be sure.

Because if he was sure then maybe…

Steve looked at him with his big sad eyes and his resigned posture and defeat written all over his figure. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Stevie-”

“No. Please, Eddie. I… I can’t.”

“Why?” He pushed the word out into the air like it had personally offended him. “Why can’t you just talk to me about this? Why can’t you tell me? We tell each other everything. You’ve never hidden anything from me.”

Steve laughed, some cold, sad, biting thing. “Eddie, I've been hiding this thing from you for years.”

“But, please, Stevie, I need to know. I need you to tell me. Because, I don’t know. Maybe-” Eddie reached out, trying to grasp at Steve’s hand but Steve pulled back violently.

Like Eddie could burn him with just a touch.

“Don’t. Just- I can’t tell you, you know why I can’t tell you!”

“No, I don’t!” And Eddie really didn’t. Why was this so hard, why was it so hard for him to just… admit it?

“Because!” Steve stood in front of him, sudden and frantic, like a man who’d been clinging onto his last threat of patience and sanity and had just lost his grip, hands in his hair and staring at Eddie with wide glistening, pleading eyes. “Because I’d have to leave! I couldn’t stay if I did tell you! It would- it would be unethical and unprofessional-”

“Stevie, you know you’re more to me than an employee.”

“Yes, I do, but…” Steve deflated all at once, the very soul inside him crumpling under the weight of everything. “But what would happen if I did tell you?” He whispered, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “We’d try to continue on as normal but now there’s this thing hanging over every interaction we have from now until forever and you’ll start to get uncomfortable and it’ll be a thing. And you’ll never be able to look at me as just a friend anymore and I’ll get so distracted I won’t be able to do my job and I’ll have to go, for both our sakes and that would kill me, Eddie. I need you in my life like I need fucking air, as fucked up and infuriating as you are, I need you in my life.”

“But,” Eddie was making a valiant effort to will away the lump in his own throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt so unsure about something, like every word had the power to destroy if he picked the wrong one. Like everything around them was ready to shatter like a Prince Rupert’s drop if touched the wrong way. “What if that doesn’t happen? What if… what if we gave it a go…?”

Steve somehow slumped even more, dragging his hands down from his hair to cover his face, another laugh breaking out of his lungs that was clearly mingled up with a sob. “That would be even worse.” He murmured. 

“How could that possibly be worse?! Would it really be so bad to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes, Eddie!” Steve hissed, glaring at him with red, shiny eyes. “Yes, it would! Because I know you. You don’t do relationships. Any ones you have had you’ve imploded before they go anywhere past semi-serious and I cannot do that. I cannot be given a taste and then just have to go the rest of my life without it because you got bored or self-destructive or realised it wasn’t what you wanted, that I-”

Steve abruptly cut himself off and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes again. “I can’t do it, Eddie. If I just became another notch… I don’t think I’d ever recover. It would destroy me.”

Eddie put his own head in his hands again, ignoring the jerking movements of his bouncing knee. The worst part was that he couldn’t disagree with what Steve had said about his attitude with people, about how he treated those he was with. 

He couldn’t even be angry or defensive about it because it was true. It was so true the both of them knew it was plainly factual, there was no point arguing.

Anyone he’d ever had a relationship with before, he’d either dropped once the shine had worn off, or shoved away using cutting words or sunk himself so deep into drugs and alcohol it was a miracle Steve had ever been able to drag him out.

Because it was always Steve dragging him out. It was always Steve listening to him bitch and moan about how love was for fantasists, no one was ever happy in relationships, having to cut themselves down by half to accommodate someone else, how he’d never catch himself in that trap for as long as he lived, how he’d swear off ever chaining himself down to bullshit monogamy again.

Until the next pretty face or bouncy ass walked by.

Of course Steve would think that about him. Eddie thought that about himself. Believed it about himself until very, very recently, when even the thought of Steve leaving his life forever sent a cold spike of dread and desperation through him.

“Okay,” Eddie rubbed his face. “But, what if… How do I- what if I prove it to you?”

Steve inhaled deeply then exhaled harshly toward the floor and dragged his hands away from his eyes. His face was blotchy and wet and miserable, his eyes were raw red and resigned. 

“Prove what?”

“That I…” Eddie dragged a hand through his hair, gripping on tight. “That I want to be serious about this. That I- if I get a chance, if you give me a chance to have you, that I’m going to keep you. Forever.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Eds.”

“I’ll keep it.” Eddie raised his head, meeting Steve’s eyes again and trying to will his sincerity across the room. “I’ll always keep it with you. If you love me like I suspect you do, I’m gonna work every god-damned day to keep that promise. Because I think I’ve been in love with you for just as long-”

“Please,” Steve’s voice cracked, harsh and painful sounding, “don’t say that if you don’t mean it-”

“I mean it.” He clasped his hands in front of him, almost begging Steve to hear him. To understand just how serious he was. “I swear on everything I hold dear, I mean it. I swear on my guitar I mean it.”

Steve looked so… he looked so hurt. Like everything he’d been hiding from himself, everything he’d been hiding from Eddie for so long, for years was all coursing through him at full force.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and considered him.

“I’ll think about it.” His voice was quiet, but it wasn’t so despairing as it had been.

Eddie stood. He wanted to get closer, he wanted to wrap Steve up in his arms and never let go, he wanted to make it better but he didn’t dare move any closer.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know. I think right now I just need a little time. And space. Again. I might have to extend my vacation just for a few more days. To get my head on straight.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie exhaled, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Whatever you need, baby.”

A wounded, painful sound was pulled from Steve’s throat against his will and Eddie flinched backward.

“Jesus, shit. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Steve just shook his head, not meeting his eyes anymore. 

“Dustin and Max will be back tomorrow morning.” Steve didn’t raise his eyes again, keeping them firmly on the ground as he picked up his bag.

Eddie could only whisper out a small ‘okay’. He felt like if he said or did anything else, Steve might shatter into a million tiny pieces and he couldn’t- he wouldn’t let that happen.

The same way it had happened a month ago, Eddie watched Steve leave the room, staring at the door long after he’d gone.

But even though it was the same this time, it was also different.

Because now he had a terrible hope building in his chest.

Now he had work to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

It was Chanel, hello?? It had accessories??

An idea of Steve's yellow suit

And, of course, Rhianna's iconic cape

This is the video I watched to visualise Eddie playing away in his basement studio. Watch it and let your mind wander 🤭 (specifically 1:23 is the part Eddie is playing in the fic)

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley