#i take four meds at night. one of each. pretty straightforward

[slippery-minghus]

sometimes i look at things my mom has done... simple tasks.... and i see where the intellectual delays/disability i fought tooth and nail to overcome growing up came from.... 💀

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I was thinking about an amazing fic wherein Geralt locks himself away in his own mind, leaving nothing but the wolf, and also one of my old friend’s fluffy h/c fics where a heat-crazed omega and an alpha who refuses to have sex with heat-crazed omegas cuddle for like 2.5 days straight, and also ace week. So. Here is this.

words: 1,737 characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert, Roach, Eskel and Vesemir mentioned summary: Geralt forgets to take his meds (inspired by my own personal experiences with forgetting meds for longer than a week), and gets cuddly. Jaskier’s fine with it because it amuses him.

~

Geralt was acting strange.

Then again, he wasn’t a human, so his actions weren’t really supposed to be familiar. That made Jaskier happy, to be honest. He’d had enough of trying to puzzle out other humans; Geralt was just as complex, but far more straightforward.

But still, this fussing was out of character. He was so particular about hunting and buying food, and insisted on getting Jaskier a thick wool cape, and seemed hyper-aware of the changing seasons. Finally, Jaskier decided he wasn’t naïve enough for this.

“Geralt, why are you doing this?”

Geralt, half asleep and curled around Jaskier protectively, mumbled, “Winter soon. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Jaskier grinned, and squirmed over onto his back. “My dear, not that I’m complaining about your care, but why now?” he asked, booping Geralt’s nose.

The Witcher scowled and said, “You’re my mate. Have to take care of my mate.”

Jaskier’s heart tripped.

Geralt must have heard, because he suddenly became very awake, staring at Jaskier with wide eyes and a set mouth. Jaskier breathed in and out slowly; there was no point hiding his immediate reaction, but he should at least try to stay calm.

“Do Witchers see mates the same way as us humans?” he asked.

Geralt didn’t move for an agonizingly long moment. Then he said softly, “No. Mates are… they’re people we… you won’t betray us.”

Jaskier stared back. And then he grinned, and snuggled against Geralt, rubbing his nose on his Witcher’s collarbone. Said Witcher relaxed, wuffled in contentment much like a big, lazy dog, and wrapped Jaskier up tight in his arms.

“Mates are people you trust not to hurt you?” the bard hazarded, unable to stop grinning.

“Yes. Go to sleep, now.”

“Oh, alright.”

~

A month later, as they were beginning their ascent of the mountains, Jaskier decided that Geralt had been lying.

As soon as they had left the last human village, Geralt’s human habits began to fade into more animalistic ones: instead of cooking the few plump rabbits he was able to hunt, he portioned them out and ate the organs while Jaskier cooked the meat. He insisted on finger-combing Jaskier’s hair every night (which the bard quite liked). His movements became smooth in the way of a predatory animal, not a man with predatory mutations. Roach began to snort and sidle at times, trying to keep her distance.

And Geralt didn’t even pretend he wasn’t coddling Jaskier like a delicate maiden.

It was very odd. And yet, Jaskier didn’t really mind. Geralt wasn’t smothering him; he was simply far more attentive than ever before. More attentive than he was with Yennefer, even.

Jaskier’s breath catched, and he cleared his throat to hide the noise, trudging up the narrow path behind Geralt and in front of Roach. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about her--not when he was going to spend the winter with his dearest friend.

Geralt suddenly turned, stared at Jaskier, and then whined as his face melted into a look of worry. If he’d had wolf ears, Jaskier thought, apropos of nothing, they would be upright and shivering.

Jaskier smiled. “I’m alright, my dear,” he said. No matter how softly he spoke, the cold stone of the mountain caught the sounds and threw them into an echo as if he had shouted. “I was thinking of something, that’s all.”

Geralt closed the distance between them in three fluid steps and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, whining and sniffing the bard as if his scent would give away his thoughts.

Jaskier felt his heart grow warm again. “I’m alright,” he repeated, leaning into Geralt’s embrace. “I’m with you, aren’t I? I’m always alright with you.”

Geralt made a wolf-like noise of happiness, and then kissed Jaskier. When his mouth opened in surprise, the Witcher’s tongue slid in and licked the inside--and not in a sexy way.

“Ew!” he shrieked, wrenching back. “Geralt, you brute, what are you doing?”

“My mate,” Geralt rumbled. It was the first time he’d used recognizable words in nearly a week. He was also smiling, so fondly and sweetly. “My pretty mate.”

Jaskier’s cheeks heated immediately, and he pressed his face into Geralt’s neck. “Alright, you win. My… my mate.”

Geralt hummed in deep contentment. After several moments, they untangled from each other, Geralt licked Jaskier’s lips, and they continued their journey.

The cold of winter was setting in painfully fast. While much of the coast was quite pleasant, Jaskier had spent many years in Lettenhove shivering through storms and snow that killed at least three people every winter--but usually more. He knew what to expect from sharp cold; he’d just never been in a place this dry and cold.

They were only a few days away from Kaer Morhen when the air pressure changed so quickly that Jaskier’s ears popped twice. The dry feeling that had seeped into his every orifice vanished as the first snowstorm began to brew; he breathed in deeply and grinned at the moisture that sank into his mouth, nose, throat, and lungs. Now this was the kind of winter weather he was used to.

Geralt growled and hustled his mate and horse along as fast as was safe.

Jaskier barely had time to feel relief at the sight of the trail leveling out before the snowstorm opened and everything became a white-and-grey blur. He and Roach both stopped in their tracks, and he called out, “Geralt?! Geralt, where are you?!”

A dark form hulked into his personal space and embraced him. It smelled and felt like his witcher. Jaskier clung to him, and tried not to think about the day he had joined a rescue attempt to find the last fishing vessel in the middle of a wild storm. There had been sirens. The sailors used a horn to drive them away; Jaskier had panicked and started singing, and the sirens had fallen silent.

He wasn’t allowed on the ocean after that, and he was very glad.

But this wasn’t the ocean. He had never realized how much he trusted solid boats and salty water before he became so acutely aware that one misstep would send him tumbling through nothing.

Geralt hoisted Jaskier up in one arm, took hold of Roach’s reins, and continued on the path.

It seemed like a thousand years before hands tugged at his cloak, and Geralt snarled viciously. Jaskier clung tighter, and did not raise his head until they passed into a space that wasn’t windy.

“Ger’l?” he whispered.

Geralt rumbled reassuringly and nuzzled under Jaskier’s hood to lick his ear; the warmth of his tongue shocked the bard’s cold skin. “Safe,” Geralt said, and set him down on his feet.

Jaskier smiled, and promptly collapsed.

~

“He won’t take his medicine, not until his mate is awake.”

“That’s so stupid! Doesn’t he want to be able to think?”

“Yes, but he’s not Geralt right now. He doesn’t have a human mind. I told him he needed to get better at making it himself…”

Jaskier opened his eyes the barest crack, and tried to make a noise. He couldn’t. He was so tired and foggy.

Almost immediately, someone was kissing his face, and licking it, and giving tiny puppy noises of joy and worry. He smiled, and opened his eyes wider.

It was Geralt, of course, looking absolutely delighted. Jaskier reached up one shaky hand and booped his nose.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“Hello,” Geralt replied.

~

There were three other Witchers in the keep: a tired father, a calm and kind elder brother, and a pissy baby who was only a few years older than Jaskier. They stayed far away from him, although they were courteous, and provided him with food since he couldn’t leave his nest by the fire due to Geralt constantly lying on top of him and acting like a love-sick puppy. Jaskier began to worry about that merely an hour after he woke.

Four hours after he was awake, the pissy baby brother approached with a tray holding two pottery cups. He set it down near Jaskier and ordered, “Give him the blue cup, it has his medicine in it.”

Jaskier looked at the cups. One was green and the other was a soft purple. “Ah… those are green and purple.”

The Witcher stared at him, then at the cups, then back at him. “What?” he said blankly.

“This one is green,” Jaskier pointed to said cup, “And this one is purple. Which one is blue to you?”

The Witcher pointed silently, and Jaskier nodded, picking up the cups carefully and handing the “blue” one to Geralt, who cocked his head curiously.

“It’s just a drink,” Jaskier told him soothingly. “It will help us both feel better.” He sipped his own and tasted spiced cider, which made him hum in appreciation. Geralt downed his drink in three quick gulps, set his cup back on the tray… and then yelped and rolled off of Jaskier, thrashing and howling.

“Geralt!” Jaskier tried to lunge for him, but the other Witcher held him back. “Geralt! What did you do to him?!”

“Gave him his medicine that he hasn’t been taking for probably three fucking months,” the Witcher said tersely. “Watch him.”

Jaskier never took his eyes off Geralt, heart pounding with fear. After a few minutes of thrashing, his wolfish sounds melted into human curses, and when he laid still, panting harshly, Jaskier strained towards him again. “Geralt!” he cried, reaching for him.

Geralt looked at Jaskier, frowned, then looked absolutely terrified. Before Jaskier could ask, he was up and out of the room.

“Geralt?” Jaskier repeated softly.

“He’s just embarrassed,” the youngest Witcher grunted, letting go of Jaskier. “Drink your cider. He’ll come back when I leave.”

So Jaskier drank, and the Witcher left, and after a whole three minutes, Geralt slunk back in and sat beside Jaskier. After a moment, the bard lunged and squirmed into Geralt’s lap, hugging him tightly.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“I licked you,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed merrily and kissed him. “Yes, you did. You also played with my hair.”

“And called you my mate.”

Jaskier paused. “Well… yes. Was that a mistake?”

Geralt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Jaskier. “Dunno. Do… would you mind if… are you alright with that?”

“Yes, my dear, I am very alright with it.”

“Oh. Good.”

And then Geralt snogged him senseless.

[misskittysmagicportal]

can i request something to do with the thing about vincent having tics while giving oral or just vincent giving oral general i love the way you write things

I Think We're Alone Now

(Vincent Rhodes x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: language, talk of mental health, fem!receiving oral

A/N: With the pandemic keeping you and Vincent apart, he was glad that being alone didn't mean being lonely.

Vincent Rhodes didn't tic as bad or as much in his thirties. He wasn't cured. He didn't take medicine that made them magically go away. He took meds for his anxiety, and the “cure” was still going to therapy with Dr Rose. He didn't go daily or weekly or even monthly anymore. He managed every other month. Sometimes, perhaps, every three to four months. Yet it took twenty-five to finally accept a cliche: Tourette's wasn't Vincent, Vincent simply HAD Tourette's.

Don't worry though, cunt is still his favorite word.

Vincent also did all the things he told Marie he wanted to do. He finished school and went to college online. He found himself rather good at computers and a job that required the bare minimum of human interaction. His Tourette's was under control, but his social anxiety never seemed to be. We digress!

He had a job, and a place to call home that wasn't a treatment facility or a hoarder’s house bogged down by sadness and alcoholism. Vincent didn't find it shameful that his father bought him a condo. He and his roommate had an agreement to pay utilities and work on the re-election campaign.

Vincent finally had a dog. A dog he had to fight for because his roommate had.. Rituals. Rituals that also weren't as bad as they used to be thanks to the same therapy and right medication. Just like you can't get rid of Tourette's, Vincent couldn't get rid of Alex either. That was his first, and really only, friend. As tumultuous as they started out, if you survive a road trip with two neurodivergents, you're pretty much bonded for life. Alex was sometimes more work than their dog.

Vincent and Alex did things in their late twenties and early thirties they never thought they'd do. They went out. They dated around. They had awkward sex and one night stands that the two of them could finally laugh about. Vincent could hide, or save his tics from popping up during his dates. He could even manage to hold them off when he had sex. He was relaxed and focused on the woman beneath or above him.

But then he would spasm, or twist and pop his mouth. He would unintentionally squeal or swear, call her names or flip her off. Instead of understanding Vincent, or talking to him, whoever the girl of the moment was would leave and never come back. Fuck her, Vincent would think. I can't help that I have Tourette’s; she can help being an asshole.

-----

There could not have been a worse time in anyone’s life for you to meet quite possibly the single hottest guy in your neighborhood. At least, you thought he was in your neighborhood. You kept running into each other at various stores to the point you found yourself quoting an old movie from college.

“Are you stalking me?” You boldly questioned him one afternoon as he pondered Mcintosh versus Fiji apples. “Because that would be super.”

The man jumped. Then to your shock, he spasmed almost violently. His neck twisted to the left as his hand held on to his chin and yelled out, “Brown haired cunt! Grass licking big tits.”

You laughed. It wasn't malicious or in jest. You were nervous and stunned. Still you replied, “Normally a guy has to date me for a while before he calls me a cunt. Now as for grass licking? That was only once, but I was high and we were playing truth or dare.”

He stared at you, mouth agape. A violent spasm rocked his body again like an aftershock. It caused him to excessively blow a dark curl back from his forehead several times before his body relaxed and he appeared to sink in on himself. Embarrassed. A pink hue spread along his cheeks and angled jaw as he gazed at the apples again with large green eyes.

“You ok? I wouldn't say I've got big tits. They're more like medium sized. Unless you were talking about the melons.” You held up two cantaloupe in front of your chest. “I’m y/n”

Again with the mouth open staring. Then he came to, “Vincent. I've never had someone react to Arthur that way.”

“I'm from New York. That was a Saturday night in the village. Who’s Arthur?” You looked around. “Are you being held hostage? Scream cunt for yes. Vagina for no.”

Vincent laughed. It was almost a giggle that you weren't sure was a laugh or his thing. “Arthur is my Tourette's. He's the clown who shits in between my thoughts. My tics. You scared the piss out of him.”

“You named your Tourette's? You can't do that, they never go away once you name them.”

Vincent rolled his eyes, “ DAMMIT! I'll take away his bowl of food and dog bed too. Maybe I'll finally be cured!”

You didn't want him to think you felt something was wrong with him. “Mostly with all of this, I meant I keep seeing you around. Thought I'd say hi.”

“How about we exchange phone numbers, and you can say hello more often?” Vincent cocked an eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume calling me a cunt is flirting! But you got it out of the way now instead of down the line. Give me your phone.”

He obliged and you put your number in. As you handed it back you joked, “Should've told me you had a much sexier friend.” You indicated Alex on the phone’s wallpaper.

“He's gay.”

“Damn! Lucky for men. Anyways, I work most days. Don't know how long with everything happening out there. Call me sometime?”

Vincent twitched and wolf whistled. He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, but promised he would nonetheless. But then pandemic happened, so all you had for the next six months was your phone

-----

You met Alex and learned his rituals and empathized with his panic to follow or abide by heath guidance. His OCD aggravated by everything going on. Vincent couldn't even go for a run without his friend completely freaking out, so he just didn't. Their balcony was it for fresh air.

You took tours of each other's apartments. Had dinners and breakfasts together. Shared what books you were reading and watched movies together. Vincent teased you about your fat, lazy cat and you did likewise over his ten pound shih tzu. Although, you admitted, it was because she got to share a bed with him.

Somehow in month 5 you were roped into a three way phone call with his dad. Senator Rhodes and Vincent seemed to have an easy relationship, but you were filled in later that it was anything but for a very long time. So you turned the tables one night, and introduced him to your entire family.

Forgetting about his Tourette's, because you had really grown used to it all. To the tics, the whistles and excessive use of the word cunt (Pandemic drinking game, Vincent’s idea) that his biggest episode since you met stunned not only you but your clan. Vincent had buried his face, you were terrified of your mistake. But you got it from somewhere.

“Sure you ain't from Brooklyn, kid?!” Thank Christ for meathead brothers.

“This is dating right?” Vincent asked after their dinner. “Pandemic, COVID, for now dating. Even though,” he paused to twist his neck, “One of my coworkers has uh, dick appointments all the time?” He snapped a finger several times and shouted something about a whore and syphilis.

“Hey! Tell Arthur to fuck off. Sexual liberation. She's not a whore, she's in her twenties!” Vincent laughed. “Are you nervous about something? Usually the bedtime part of our phone calls are the least tic-ish.”

“Wanna have sex?” He was straightforward.

“Right now? Facetime sex?” You scrunch your nose but more to be cute than creeped out.

“Here. Alex is asleep. Come over? We've been isolated for months.”

“God, I love you.”

“What?” Vincent laughed. “Are you sure about that?”

“I'll be there in twenty minutes.”

-----

Vincent opened the door and implored you to take your shoes off at the door. You expected nothing less as you complied and followed him in the stillness of the apartment to his bedroom.

The moment the door was shut, Vincent was on you before you could even adjust to the dark. Only street lamps from the neighborhood below showed through as his mouth consumed yours.

Your tongues at war with each other as the two of you scrambled to undress. Your lips broke apart long enough to throw shirts over heads and step out of flannel pants or yoga pants. Then they crashed together again as Vincent let his hands splay out the length of your back and shoulders.

Your one hand ensnared by his messy hair. The other under the waistband of his boxers and over his ass. You drew his body to yours to melt into. His erection strained and throbbed against your hip as you hungrily pushed your tongue as far inside him as you could.

The both of you eager like teenagers shot with adrenaline. Anxious and hoping Alex caught you as Vincent twitched and his shoulders shrugged up to his ears. His fingers fumbled with your bra made worse by his tics. Tics that frustrated only him; you reached and undid it for him. Your breasts were free for him to look at.

Vincent attempted to choke back his words but failed. “Tit fucker,” a sour look on his face as his eye involuntarily clamped shut, “huge nipples.” He swallowed his lips, mortified.

“Hey!! They make up for yours being the tiniest nipples I have EVER seen on a dude.” You took Vincent’s hand. “We can slow down if you want. I don't know what's up, do you tic like this every time you have sex?”

The two of you laid side by side on his bed, hands traced over inches of bare skin. Vincent was silent for a while as he let his fingers trail over you, his lips not far behind.

“I don't. I'm usually too focused. The last time I loved someone, it fell apart immediately. It's making me anxious.”

You held his head to your body with a tenderness. “I loved you first, didn't I?”

His mouth made its way amongst your breasts as he gently laid you on your back. His lips warm on your stomach and hips that he exposed by tugging your panties down over your knees and off. Vincent laid down between them and almost nuzzled his nose in your soft pubic hair before his tongue dove inside of you.

Your hips rocketed up into his mouth as you grabbed the back of Vincent's head. He licked and sucked on your sex. Small tics caused him to push his tongue and lips in further than before. They closed in on your clit. His tongue attacked it with a lapping motion that you could only bend to, helpless.

Vincent was insatiable, his mouth in a frenzy. Your fingers caught up in the sheets as the sensation of his mouth on your clit spread along your body. Now your words were a shock as they came screaming out into the quiet of the bedroom.

“Tongue fuck me! Faster!”

Instead Vincent looked up at you with a grin, “I see Arthur came to visit.”

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @magic-multicolored-miracle @sean-falco @elliethesuperfruitlover @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @firstpersonnarrator @rob-private

[supergirl-writingz]

Kidnapped Part 2

B!D deals with recovery.

Note: the doctor being named dr grey isnt actually like mer or lexie i literally just watch too much greys and couldnt think of another name haha also THANK U FOR BEING SO PATIENT W ME im really proud of this fic tbh and i hope u guys like it:) remember requests are always open

Warning: trauma, anxiety, therapy

It’s been about one week since you were rescued. You were doing okay. Everyone was trying to convince you to see someone, to talk about what you went through. You didn’t get why. You realized you have been through something tragic, but wouldn’t it be easier to just put it in the past? 

Physically, you still had a long way to go. You were still cooped up at the DEO and you would be for a little bit longer. You had bruises everywhere, 2 broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken bone in your foot. But Lena assured you that you were healing properly. You trusted her.

Your least favorite part about everything, was the way people were treating you. They treated you as if you were glass, and if they spoke to loud or even held your hand, they would break you. You didn’t feel broken and you didn’t get why everyone wanted you to be. Lena was the only one who would tell you things how they were, straightforward with no holding back. You appreciated it. 

Lena walked into the room, “Hey hun can we talk?”

You nodded, “Of course Lena what’s up?”

Lena sat at the edge of your bed, “Darling I think you need to see someone, you-”

“Not you too” you interrupted rolling your eyes, “I’m fine, I don’t need to see anyone”

Lena was patient with you, with a calm voice she said, “Y/N you can’t keep bottling up your emotions, it’s not healthy. If you don’t let this out you’re gonna have a breakdown. You’re not fine and thats okay.”

“I am fine” you snapped at her.

“Y/N, you are scared to sleep without sedatives and you haven’t talked about what happened to you at all. Let me help you, please talk to me, or Kara or Alex or a specialist. Please”

You turned your head away from her. You were embarrassed but it was true, you were scared of going to bed without them.

“Don’t sedate me tonight, I’ll sleep just fine”

Lena sighed, “Okay”

As she walked out she turned around and said, “You know we’re all just trying to do what’s best for you right?”

You didn’t answer. Lena walked out looking sad and defeated. You felt bad, she’s helped you so much. But you were tired of people saying you weren’t okay. You thought about sleeping tonight without the sedatives, truthfully you were nervous but you didn’t tell anyone. Tonight was Kara’s turn to sleep in your room, and she always made you feel safe. 

Later that night, around 11, you finally fell asleep after tossing and turning for a couple hours. 

All of the sudden you woke up with a start not knowing where you were. You were screaming and your heart rate was through the roof. Kara instantly got up and rushed to you.

“Y/N baby it’s just a dream! You’re okay!” she said calmly but loud enough so it would get through to you.

It didn’t help. You were starting to hyperventilate. Kara put her face directly in front of yours.

“Look at my sweetheart, breathe like I do” Kara said, breathing in and out slowly for me to follow.

You looked Kara in the eyes and started following her breathing. 5 minutes later you were breathing normally. Lena and Alex came rushing in, someone must have called them.

“Baby what happened?” Alex asked with a concerned tone. 

Tears were building up in your eyes, “I- I was back there.. in my dream”.

“The room where it all happened?” Lena asked. You nodded, tears starting to come quicker

“It was so real, I could feel every punch, every kick. It was like I was back there.” you said, at this point you were sobbing. 

Alex came close to you and put her hand to your cheek, “You’re safe now Y/N, he can’t hurt you anymore”

You pulled Alex closer and cried into the crook of her neck. While Kara was strong and comforting, there was something about Alex that made you feel powerful and in control. She was such a good directer at the DEO, even if things in her life were bad. Even when everything was going wrong, she had control. You needed that. You needed to be in control of your emotions, but you didn’t know how. You realized now everyone was right, you weren’t okay. But you still didn’t like the idea of seeing a therapist of any kind. You just couldn’t imagine talking to a complete stranger about things you can’t talk about to the people closest to you. 

You started to calm down and stopped crying. You looked up at Lena.

“I’m so sorry Lena”, you said.

“Darling you have nothing to be sorry for” she replied softly.

“I was so rude to you, you were just trying to help” you replied guiltily.

“You’re struggling little one, whether you know it or not, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. After what you’ve been through, we’d be more concerned if you weren’t struggling” Kara said.

“We just want you to feel better and we want you to know you have our constant support” Alex said.

You looked down and smiled softly. You didn’t know what you would do without these people. You didn’t think therapy was for you, but it seems like it would make them feel better, and who knows maybe it would make you feel better too. 

“I’ll see someone”, you said quietly, “if you guys really think it will be good”

Alex smiled and said, “We’re only asking that you try”. 

You got in a couple more hours of sleep before day time had come and it was too bright to sleep. You heard a knock at the door and looked up to see Lena and another woman you didn’t recognize. 

“Hey hun, this is Dr. Grey, she works with people who have been through trauma” Lena said, trying not to overwhelm you.

She smiled a bright smile and said, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you”

You took a breath and remembered how you told Lena and your sisters you would give it a try. 

You reached out your hand and said “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too”

Dr. Grey shook your hand then told you that Lena or your sisters could stay in the room, or it could be just them. You decided to give it a try alone with Dr. Grey. Lena understood and wished you good luck before leaving. You took a deep breath, talking to this stranger was making you feel anxious. You and Dr. Grey started talking, and quickly you felt more comfortable. You guys didn’t talk much about the kidnapping, she mostly just wanted to know your home and social life. You told her pretty much everything, from your sisters, your friends, Lena, and school. Dr. Grey was pretty easy to talk to. The only time the kidnapping did come up was when she suggested that you talk to your sisters or Lena about what happened. She said if it was out in the open, you might feel better. She made it very clear though that you should wait until you were ready. And just like that, your hour session was over before you knew it.

“Thank you Dr. Grey” you said.

She smiled warmly, “So we’ll be meeting again?”

You returned her smile and nodded. 

About 2 weeks later, you were sitting in your bed at the DEO. You have been seeing Dr. Grey daily and it was helping a lot. All of the sudden Kara walked in and you smiled at her asked her to bring Alex and Lena into the room. Kara smiled and nodded, walking out of the room to get them. A few moments later, the three women walked in. 

“So Dr. Grey thought that I should talk to at least someone about what happened, other than her. And I trust you guys more than anyone, so I want to tell you guys” you say, starting to feel a little anxious.

“That’s very sweet darling but we don’t wanna push you into talking about something you’re not ready to talk about” Lena said concerned.

You smiled, “I’m ready”, and they nodded.

You told them everything, from you walking home from school, to the guy grabbing you, to your surroundings, and on and on. You told them how they wanted to know who Supergirl was, and you shot Kara a warm look almost saying, ‘This isn’t your fault’. Kara gave you a small yet guilty smile. You took a deep breath as you started to talk about the torture. Your hands were shaking so Alex grabbed them into hers. You didn’t even realize you were crying until Kara wiped a tear from your cheek. You told them everything... you told them the beatings, about the whips and taser. You told them about the hunger, and how cold it was. You told them how you were so hopped up on drugs, you couldn’t even remember how you got there. 

“The scariest part was when I lost hope, I truly thought I was gonna die there” you said. You finally looked up at them, Kara was crying just as much as you were. Lena and Alex had some tears too, but you could tell they were trying to be strong. You grabbed Kara’s hands and looked her in the eyes.

“But you saved me Kara, you’re the reason I’m still here” you said softly.

Kara pulled you into a hug and you felt her warmth and comfort, which then turned into pain from your ribs.

“Kara.. too tight” you said chuckling.

“Sorry” she laughed immediately letting go. The four of you sat there in silence for a while, enjoying each others company. Dr. Grey was right, you did feel better putting it all out there. 

A few weeks later, you were making great progress. You were still having nightmares, but not every night. The anxiety meds you were taking were starting to help with the panic attacks too. You were still at the DEO, but you were starting to walk around though, with a boot and crutches. Your ribs were almost healed and your concussion was all gone. 

You were doing great with Dr. Grey too. The only thing she was concerned with was that you didn’t want to leave the DEO. Of course you wanted to be at home, but you couldn’t get yourself to step out of the building. You felt safe in there. You had this fear that the man who took you would be out there, even though you knew he was in custody. Everyone tried to get you just to go on a simple walk outside, but your anxiety would kick in before you even got the chance. Today was going to be different, today you were determined to go outside. You haven’t been outside since Kara flew you to the DEO the day of the kidnapping, and you were barely conscious.. but today was different. 

You asked Kara, Alex, and Lena if you could all go on a walk. They gave a little surprised look but didn't say anything, they probably didn’t want you to overthink it, but they realized how big of a deal this was. You guys were having a normal conversation, walking through the DEO. You stopped when you reached the exit. You felt Kara give your hand a little squeeze, letting you know that it’s okay. You took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked outside. 

You were surprised as you felt the fresh air in your lungs. Everything looked greener than you remember. You spent so much time in the DEO, that you forgot there was life outside of the grey and dark building. You looked around at all the people, talking and laughing, and you were amazed at how good it felt. You quickly started to cry and turned back to your sisters and Lena.

“Oh baby why are you crying?” Alex asked softly, “Do you wanna go back inside?”

These were happy tears. 

“I’m finally free from him” you said smiling, wiping the tears from your face. 

They all smiled at you and were so proud of your strength and perseverance. You had a lot to work through still, but this was a break through. This was the first time since the kidnapping, that you were 100% sure that you would make it through this. You pulled them into group hug, silently thanking them for never leaving your side.

[polyacrylamidepensieve]

For Posterity

Just realized as I was walking around my circle today, working on getting my stamina back: it’s probably a good idea to actually record just how colossally bad I’ve felt in the last four years or so. This way, when my patients tell me someday that they’re having similar sufferings, I can read this and remember how the world looks from here.

I haven’t wanted to honestly talk about it, bc it makes people uncomfortable and they don’t know how to respond… so guys, just don’t bother. Rest assured, I’m perfectly fine and there’s nothing more I need in this world right now. I’m happy now, that’s what matters. That’s what makes now a good time to finally write about this stuff in straightforward prose, without all of the pretty metaphors and euphemisms I always hide behind when I don’t want to admit how bad I’m feeling even to myself.

I’m posting this publicly because I want others to read my story and see their own suffering reflected here, to message me and tell me how your stories are perhaps similar and yet not the same. You are not alone. You are not abnormal. I got better. Maybe you will, too.

Okay. Let’s see. Well, during the first two years of med school, I was so clinically depressed and had so many intrusive thoughts (a symptom of anxiety) that I suffered from severe cognitive limitations. I couldn’t focus for long enough to read so much as a sentence. I’d get to the third word and then come to ten minutes later and realize I’d spaced out and couldn’t remember what I was supposed to be doing or why, and then I’d go lie down until I could remember what I had been trying to do. So I ended up basically either in class (four hours a day, four days a week) or in bed. Being in bed so much is really physically bad for a person - I completely deconditioned. I lost ten pounds because I couldn’t get up the desire to eat. I became short of breath just standing or walking for half an hour or so. I got sick at the drop of a hat, and I still think that level of immunocompromise is why I got cancer later. But more on that in a bit. I couldn’t hold real conversations or make friends - I’d forget what I was trying to say halfway through pretty much every sentence, and I couldn’t focus for long enough to really hear what people were trying to tell me, either. For someone who had always been high achieving, it was a truly eye opening experience to have a working memory of about 2-3 pieces of information. I know now what it’s like to stare at something for hours without comprehension. After I switched psychiatrists and my meds were doubled around the end of second year, I woke up one day and could think again. (I had a week before step 1. Still not sure how I passed, and not sure my score will be enough to get me in anywhere I want to go either. But that’s not relevant here. The point is,) I looked at the material that had given me so much trouble and I could understand it within about thirty seconds. That’s when I finally understood my privilege. That’s why “try harder” is no longer something I tell anyone to do, no matter how seemingly small or mundane the task. I finally understood in that moment that everyone is trying their very hardest every single day. Being able to accomplish things simply by trying hard is a capital-P Privilege.

Anyway, I was mildly suicidal for a little bit. I ended up sleeping with the classmate who lived in my building simply because he was the one person who could be there without too much inconvenience. When I didn’t know for sure that I could be alone and be safe, I didn’t feel like I was imposing too much by asking him to come up a few flights of stairs, and so I actually reached out for help, thank god. We don’t really get along, and we fought constantly because he’s unintentionally but unerringly patronizing and I was uber sensitive. If not for my condition, I don’t think we would have talked much or even been friends. But he saved my life, and I will forever be grateful for his willingness to be my crutch when I needed it most.

I don’t actually remember most of the ins and outs of those two years. He remembers much better than I do. I don’t remember entire major outings or conversations I had with people. It’s almost like being blacked out - you’re somewhat functional at the time but have no memory of it later. If my school had had tests or grades, I would not have made it through. I got my weekly essays and presentations done by going to bed early and waking up to do them at 3 am. I could focus a little better right when I woke up, and the adrenaline of having to present or submit in a few hours helped me to cobble together at least a semblance of something I could turn in.

The silver lining? I shed the gigantic ego I’d been lugging around. That, and I developed a thick skin. Thick enough, hopefully, to make it through a surgical residency. We’ll see. I am now capable of publicly humiliating myself and laughing it off - a vital tool in the physician toolbox. I, who would once have been mortified not to be thoroughly prepared for each and every class, made it through med school without reading a thing. My inadequacy was in everyone’s face during those years. It showed up three times a week for small group problem-based learning. It reared its head every Monday or Thursday when I worked with my preceptors in clinic. And whenever I was compelled to speak in class, it made sure to loiter around until the very end. My classmates still see me as an incompetent, anxious, and unreliable peer, and I may never truly win their trust at this point. The less pleasant ones didn’t deign to speak to me at all, back then. Wouldn’t meet my eyes or acknowledge what I had to say. Anyway, it was either learn to handle it or kill myself. The boy I mentioned above once described the aftermath of my suicide in such vivid detail that I couldn’t bring myself to be so selfish, even when I was at rock bottom. So now here I am, for better or for worse, unapologetically alive and with the habit of failing firmly tucked into my back pocket.

I can also now say that I’m a significantly more receptive listener, so there’s that. I no longer hear threats to my ego when people are just trying to help or to ask for help. Also, being willing to admit to anyone that I don’t know something or that I’m wrong somewhere has allowed me to become much more assertive and to ask for things I would never have asked for before. Nothing can hurt me anymore, not worse than I’ve handled being hurt before.

Not even cancer. That’s the second half of all of this. It’s a much shorter half, bc honestly it wasn’t that bad. But the fatigue, my god. Night sweats are gross, surgery hurts, my breasts are no longer as beautiful as they were, the MRI guided biopsy was brutally painful and I’m allergic to the contrast dye. None of that compares to the fatigue. I struggled for months before my diagnosis and just couldn’t explain to my research year supervisor why I had so much trouble coming in to work on time. I would sleep for twelve, fourteen hours on the weekends, wake up for two hours and then nap for another five or six hours. I never felt rested. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my team to respect or like me. I was just so tired.

After my diagnosis, the blows just kept coming. I was diagnosed via phone call on my 26th birthday, and my parents’ insurance stopped covering me at the end of that month. We didn’t know what stage I was, if I’d need chemo, if I’d lose my fertility and my hair. Having my own biological kids was top of the list when it came to priorities before, but now that I’ve given real thought to what life looks like without them, things have shifted a bit.

I don’t have a ton else to say, though, about cancer suffering. Radiation hurt like hell the first day but got better. My boyfriend of six months dumped me and got right back together with the girl he was sleeping with before meeting me, almost not quite even in that order, around week one of radiation. But honestly? I got off easy. No chemo. I’ve even come off of my depression meds. And I’m grateful to said latest ex, too, because he was the one who found my cancer. I think I just don’t want ever to forget how scary it all was, despite knowing how to navigate the system better than most and having insider influence. For my patients, I can’t afford to forget the pre-surgery anxiety or the shock of being diagnosed. I can’t forget what it was like to be powerless and broken, because someday I’ll be the one behind the knife, the one with all the power.

And you know what? Cancer is something that either breaks people apart or pushes them together, and I found out that I am truly blessed with incredible friends. I didn’t tell many people about my diagnosis (at this point, half of my 32 person class doesn’t know), and still I had a few classmates and friends offer to shave their heads with me. Others offered to bring me food, take me to my appointments, watch my cat, and some even just came over almost every day for a week to hold my hand and listen to me cry my eyes out over a boy. My 3 best girlfriends, who’ve been my best friends since we were all in fifth grade, sent me packages and pictures of pink strips they’d collectively dyed into their hair. I don’t know how I’ll ever pay all of this forward, but I guess I can definitely try. :)

[artycreative-blog]

March in Malta

For my Mum's 60th birthday in April, we decided to return to the country of her birth for the first time since she was three years old. We had a lot of expectations of what it was going to be like; we were right about some and so wrong about others! I'm going to talk a little about where we stayed, how we got around, what we visited and where we would recommend restaurant wise.

Mellieha Bay Hotel

Tucked away in the north of the island, Mellieha Bay Hotel is a fair sized resort situated next to the 'best beach on the island'. The beach isn't anything special when you compare it to other countries around the Med, or even some in the UK, but the sea view rooms all have glorious vantages over the bay, which is beautiful. The decor inside is lovely and has clearly been done up at some point over the last few years. It's got a big restaurant, bar/club, two outdoor pools and one indoor, as well as a host of activities available each day that start in the morning and go on into the evening. It seemed more geared up to pensioners than anything else, as that was the majority of the residents that we saw there. There were also some families and younger couples, but there's not as much for them to do. The hotel also had three small shops; one for snacks, one for jewellery, and another for souvenirs, all run by one friendly lady who spoke very good English.

Our room looked nice at the outset; fresh looking, bath with shower, balcony, all nice things. However, the beds were hard, the air conditioning only blew out hot air no matter what we tried, the TV wasn't set up correctly so it cut off a decent chunk of the picture, and the toilet was broken so you had to slap the flush button to make it stop leaking.

As we wanted to take it as easy as possible while on holiday, we elected to go half board, so we would only have to worry about getting lunches out. Breakfast and dinner were both buffet style all week. Breakfast remained mostly the same, other than they switched potatoes for mushrooms on alternate days, which was a bit of a pain for someone like me who can't eat bread and doesn't like mushrooms. It wasn't very geared up to gluten free eaters, although there was usually one lactose free meal and one vegetarian meal each evening. The evening buffet had four main meals, including a carvery, as well as a host of cold food, and two to three desserts, with jelly and ice cream. Overall, we think that eating at the hotel wasn't the best considering it was supposed to be a four star resort. The buffet style didn't lend itself to a high quality of food because it had to be made in such large portions and it was often left out for a while, which meant that the food could go dry. One example of this was the pork carvery, which was horribly chewy. Their fried eggs were a highlight, as was their lamb shank.

Although the hotel is close to two bus stops (one goes north and the other goes south), which are served by buses that go to Cirkewwa, Buggiba, Sliema, and Valetta, in terms of distance it's so far from everything but the ferry port to Gozo and Comino that journeys end up being very long, compounded by bad roads and busy traffic.

If we ever go back, we'd choose to be much closer to Valetta or stay somewhere on the south of the island.

Buses

I'll warn you now, I don't have much good to say about Malta's public transport system! The bus station in Valetta is good, straightforward with good signage, and has sheltered areas with seats. However, people can smoke while they're waiting for the bus, which isn't pleasant for asthmatics. There is also a wide network of buses that go around the island, so you can get pretty much everywhere important without a car. In hindsight, though, we wish we'd rented a car. Our two main buses from Mellieha to Valetta took an hour and a quarter at the very least because they took all the back roads (which are falling to pieces) and stopped at every stop along the way. This meant that buses were often packed to overflowing, the only way to get a seat was to get on at the first stop at Valetta or Cirkewwa. Also, for some reason, the seats were all curved up at the edges (I'm assuming so people are less likely to fall out while the buses rocketed around the twists and turns), which meant you had to have a tiny butt to be comfortable!

Our ExplorePlus Cards were not worth it for the price, the E21 cards would have been fine to cover us for the bus trips that we did. It might be more suitable in the summer when the fares go up by 50 cents. One of our cards also stopped working the second day on the island and their main pass office in Valetta refused to do anything about it, saying that it had expired when it had only been activated the previous the day. Not only were they rude, but the bus drivers were too. I have a certain amount of sympathy because they had to get around quickly and didn't have a lot of time scheduled for each journey considering how bad the traffic was the vast majority of the time. However, this doesn't permit you to yell at your passengers or hit them. I've never been so disgusted with a bus driver in all my life.

My final issue with the whole system is their app. It's not a bad app by all means, but when none of the buses run to time and they don't know where half of them are, it makes looking up times, routes and live information pointless. Your best bet is to just go to a bus stop and wait for whatever comes that will get you to your destination.

Comino

On our first full day in Malta, the sun was shining so we decided to take a trip to Comino, which is the smaller of the two islands situated to the north of Malta. We ended up hopping off the bus too early when we saw signs for the 'Comino Ferry' which, uh, was a speed boat. This ended up being a hilarious accident, because we actually got a tour of some of the island’s caves included in our trip, before whizzing round the island at high speed, disco music blaring, and laughing all the way as the choppy waters made the boat bounce. On the way back, even the two elderly people at the front were cackling as they got soaked.

Comino is almost completely uninhabited, apart from a few farmers and a couple of small hotels, which are closed during the winter months. This means that the land is mostly untouched, apart from a few buildings dotted about and St Mary's Tower, which is a majestic figure up on the hillside. I made my family trail all the way over to it to take pictures because it was featured in one of my favourite films, The Count of Monte Cristo. It's impressive considering it's 400 years old.

The island is also home to three bays, including the Blue Lagoon. It doesn't disappoint. The water is stunning and clear, the high winds made for some impressive photographs of the sea spray. I loved it.

Two small things to bear in mind when you visit: there are two toilets on the island, one at Blue Lagoon, which isn't very well kept, and one at Santa Maria Bay, which we didn't visit, so be aware for when you want to take toilet breaks. The paths are also very rocky, so make such you wear appropriate shoes. I got sore knees walking around in Sketchers.

Hagar Qim Temples

Wednesday was probably our most eventful day because of the bus pass incident, but it was also the day that we had the longest journeys, none of which were particularly pleasant. We did, however, have a very nice lunch in Valetta at the The Pulled Meat Company, which I will talk about later.

After lunch, we headed out to the Hagar Qim Temples on the coast. They're some of the oldest free standing buildings that still exist, built in around 3200 BC, using only stones, balanced on top of each other to create walls, doors, and ceilings. The history of the place is fascinating and the views from the walkway down to the second, larger temple are fantastic. There's a small island out in the water that the British Army used to use for target practice during WWII.

There isn't much to see at the site, which is a shame considering how long it can take to get there. My recommendation would be to also visit the Blue Grotto down the coast on the same day. It's supposed to be amazing and would have made a nice edition to the day had it not been so late when we left the temples.

Mdina

The walled city of Mdina was my favourite day out of the whole trip. It can trace its history back over 4,000 years, with a lot of the current architecture having been built in the 1500's. The whole city has been so well kept that you would think it was built yesterday. It's Catholic cathedral was a highlight for me because of the ornate decorations and the marvelously detailed painted ceilings. The museum opposite was great as well as it housed pieces from the cathedral, as well as old coins dating back to the early Roman era.

I could have taken photographs of the city all day.

If you head to the far wall from the main gate, you can climb up onto a walkway to look out across the surrounding countryside, all the way to the main city. It's an unbelievable panorama, one of the best views on the island.

There were several places to eat, only a couple that did gluten free food. It was quite pricey because they know that tourists don't really have any other options, but the atmosphere was nice and the food was decent. Just be careful to check the opening times when you're researching places to eat, as some places don't open at lunchtime, only in the evenings. This may be beneficial if you want to be in the city at night. They call it the silent city when darkness falls, which could be an interesting experience!

Restaurants

We didn't eat a lot of great food while we were away, but these three are worth a visit if you're thinking about visiting Malta.

Munchies (in Mellieha)

Munchies can be found on the beach, just down from the Mellieha Bay Hotel. They do plenty of different meals, including Maltese specialties and breakfasts past midday. It was number three out of my top three, as we had food elsewhere that was spectacular, but my chicken tasted awesome and the fries were cooked perfectly.

The Pulled Meat Company (in Valetta)

We tried to visit this restaurant on Monday, but it turns out there are quite a lot of places that are closed all day Monday in Valetta -- another thing to bear in mind! When we came back on Wednesday, it was definitely open, with staff standing in the doorway hoping to entice people inside. It has a TripAdvisor award for its food, which is well deserved. We all decided to have the brisket burger, as it sounded so delicious. Rarely are burgers so tasty. Slow cooked to perfection, we stuffed our faces until there were none left! Would definitely recommend unless you're vegetarian, this is definitely not the place for you.

Vecchia Napoli (at the Airport)

Our best meal on the island was actually our last. I was looking up places to eat at the airport and Vecchia Napoli came highly recommended. A little taste of Naples in Malta, we got a table quickly and ordered a variety of meals, including lasagna and two different types of chicken. My chicken with garlic, honey and seasoning was tremendous and my Mum and sister both thoroughly enjoyed their meals too. If you arrive in Malta starving, this is place to go for lunch. There's also a sushi bar and a place that does English style food (Bert’s) on either side. Vecchia and Berts both label all their food with what contains gluten, lactose, garlic etc and which are vegetarian.

There was also a chef doing pizza tossing at the front of the kitchen! What's not to love about that?

Overall, our trip was a bit hit and miss. There was stuff that we really enjoyed, like Comino and Mdina, but a lot of stuff we could have done without experiencing, like the bus drivers/rides and how distant the locals and staff could be, among others. We probably wouldn't choose to go back, but that's our personal taste. For someone a little looser, who has lots of energy and isn't picky about what they eat, this could be a fun adventure for you.