#i think i am overly tired and being way too emotional

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i finished loveless this morning and read i wish you all the best finishing it just before midnight and you know,,, i love queer literature. that’s all

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ignoring my friend's trigger of toxic positivity to calm down another friend? TW for mentions of sui baiting.

I have two friends, one I'll call C and one I'll call N. C has repeatedly told me that some of my behaviors are triggering to them when it comes to toxic positivity - when I try to uplift every bad situation or mediate any time people are angry it makes them anxious and on-edge. Due to some of their past life stuff I understand why, and this is in NO WAY trying to shame their triggers.

N plays a lot of video games that tend to make him angry (League, Overwatch, Fortnite mostly, but some others) and when he gets angry it triggers me (lots of yelling and swearing) and even going as far to tell the other team to kill themselves. While he doesn't type that or say it in team vc, he does say it in Discord calls he's in with me and other friends.

I tried telling N to not say those things, one because it's just shitty to do in general, and two, because it can be a really triggering thing for some people including myself. C jumped on me saying that I'm being too toxically positive and I need to let N vent his frustrations about games, and as long as he isn't saying slurs or anything that he should say what he wants. He also told me to manage my own triggers, if N shouting these things bothers me I should leave call.

One day I still did it because I was tired of being triggered and N is younger so I don't want him thinking that's fine to just say to people, because I know eventually he'll say that around the wrong people and it'll REALLY not go well. C was in call and blew up at me for it (though since C was triggered and having a trauma response I understand not being calm about it) and calling me controlling, that not everyone has to act the way I want, etc. Nobody else was in call but they've heard and seen C call me out for trying to calm down or lift up spirits of others before.

I thought C was in the wrong for telling me I'm being overly positive and controlling for telling N to stop telling people to kill themselves in games, but the more I think about it, the more worried I am that I am the asshole for ignoring the fact C was in call and it could trigger them, and that I was prioritizing my triggers over theirs, and it's starting to build up an emotional barrier between me and C because I get worried I'll slip up and do something to upset them again.

AITA for this?

[ashwhowrites]

Hi babe! Can you write one where Eddie has a very sensitive girlfriend? Like, does she sometimes get bullied for some new hairstyle she got and then she cries, or she fails a test, cries again, some new clothes and some idiot judges her? cries, and then one day Eddie sees her crying once again, and instead of comforting her, like always, he was tired of her always being a crybaby who doesn't know how to deal with insults, this only makes her cry more, but Eddie notices his mistake. Don't write if you don't like it! I'm normally crybaby, I just wanted to know how Eddie would deal with this 🥰

I AM the sensitive girlfriend so I think I can make this request work :) this fic is very personal to me so please no harsh words about the readers behavior or thoughts

Crybaby

Y/N was the type of person that felt everything. She connected emotions with everything around here. It was something she loved about herself but something that she could be most insecure about.

Eddie was understanding of how sensitive his girlfriend was. She was always honest about how overly sensitive she was and that she could cry at the drop of a hat. Eddie wasn't bothered by any of it. He understood it was something she didn't have control over.

Y/N was always grateful that Eddie adored her through her emotions. Whenever she cried over something she felt stupid, he reassured her it didn't bother him. She feared she was too much to handle, but he told her otherwise. The need to cry over almost everything was draining for her, and she can only imagine it was draining for their relationship. But Eddie never had anything negative to say.

It was still a fear of hers that he thought differently from himself and was too afraid to speak up because he knew it would send her over. With every sweet word, she feared a negative one was in his head.

She knew that Eddie had to walk on eggshells with her and that he always needed to think about what he was going to say. They've had moments in the past where he put his foot in his mouth and watched her cry. Sometimes he was the one who made her cry, but she saw it as her fault. If she wasn't such a crybaby, she could shrug off anything that was said to her.

Y/N dealt with jealousy issues as well. She has been replaced and forgotten in the past. Her stomach and heart couldn't handle Eddie talking about other people he found attractive, and that included his exes. She always made sure never to ask about his past relationship because she knew it wouldn't go well. But sometimes Eddie forgets that and speaks mindlessly.

Eddie laughed as he told a story about an ex he had, slapping his knee as the laughter took over his whole body. Y/N wanted to laugh with him because she knew an ex was just an ex. But now all she could think about was Eddie working with his ex, and that if he ever talked about where he used to work, her brain was going to think of his ex immediately. His old job isn't just an old job anymore, now it's a landmark of where he had a relationship. The feeling settled in her stomach and she tried to shrug it off. She knew it wasn't a big deal, and certainly nothing to be upset about.

But the tears came down anyway, and her thoughts focused on Eddie being the way he was with her with someone else. Someone that got to learn all the things about Eddie first, and got to love him first. It was a known thing that in their relationship they didn't talk about exes often, and she was hurt that he ignored it. She went silent, fighting in herself, and hated that she was already upset. She was embarrassed, it drained her to constantly be upset about Eddie's past attractions. She hated that she couldn't move past it without it keeping her up at night. She just wanted to be normal. She just wanted a normal brain that could handle this and be mature about it.

"Why are you so quiet?" Eddie asked, realizing the silence after his laughter died out.

She simply shrugged and said it was nothing. To her, it should be nothing. All he did was tell a story and she needed to grow up. But Eddie didn't buy it and he was annoyed with the silence.

"You're crying so it's not nothing. What is it? Did something happen today during your shopping?" He asked, she never would come out and say exactly what was wrong. He knew she liked to be asked specifically so she wouldn't have to bring it up on her own.

"No"

"Is it something I did?" He asked, he knew he hit the target when she stiffened. She slowly nodded and looked at her hands.

"Is it about the story I told? Because that's pretty stupid to be upset over." Eddie said, not thinking about the words leaving his mouth. If he thought it over, he'd know that added salt to the wound. But he didn't realize the mistake at first. He didn't realize any progress of her wanting to bring it up vanished. Now she felt way too insecure to admit she was upset about it. She already thought she was pathetic enough for being upset over it, but now Eddie thought so too? How many times has he thought the same thing and just never said it?

"I'm okay." She said, smiling as she wanted to move past it.

Eddie let it go, talking mindlessly about anything. She listened but he could tell she was upset. He gave her a few minutes before pushing into her again.

"Alright, talk to me. What did I do?" He asked softly. The sweet tone he always used, but now she felt like he was faking it. Deep down he was so annoyed about having to comfort her again.

"I didn't like the story about your ex, and I felt stupid for being upset about it so I wanted to deal with it on my own. And then you said it would be stupid for me to be upset about that and.." she cried into her hands, her voice cracking as her cries took over.

Eddie felt his heart sink, immediate regret filling his body as he raced over to her. He grabbed her hands and pulled her into a hug. His hands rubbed her back as she cried into his shoulder.

"Shh, it's okay. It's not stupid. I say shit without thinking and put my foot in my mouth. I'm sorry. And you are valid to be upset. Okay? You've been open about how it's hard for you to deal with my past relationships and I disrespected your wishes to not talk about it. It's not stupid and you're not stupid." He reassured her, and he meant it. He doesn't know why he even said that in the first place.

"It is stupid! I'm such a crybaby. You have to walk on eggshells with me because I cry over everything!" She sobbed, throwing her arms up around his body.

"You're not a crybaby! There is nothing wrong with being sensitive. You can't control how you feel about things. I think it's sweet that you love me so much that it hurts to think of me with someone else. It makes me sick thinking about your exes too. I'm sorry for not being considerate of your feelings and hurting you. I promise I don't feel like I have to walk on eggshells, baby. I love you so much and I hate that I made you cry."

"I love you very much." She cried, slowly feeling better. She wiped her tears as she felt herself stop crying. He may have said the wrong thing but he said all the right things to make her feel less insecure about herself.

"I never want to make you feel stupid for ever being upset," Eddie promised, a soft kiss to her forehead as she sniffled.

"Thank you for telling me. You did so well talking to me about your feelings" He added, knowing in a moment like this she needed the praise. Talking about her feelings was hard for her and he always praised her for it.

He spent the night kissing her softly. Reminding her she's everything he'd ever need.

She may have been a crybaby, but she was his crybaby.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[ghostofthemost141]

Essence

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,264

Themes: Fluff, Comfort, Suggestive Themes and talk so !18+!

About: After Simon comes home from a rough mission, you decide to pamper him.

Notes: I feel like Ghost would be vulnerable to his partner after they have been together for a long time because mans has a lot of pent up trauma and emotions he needs to let out. Name for you here is Sage. And I am sorry if this feels rushed, I just have been busy and wanted to get this out. Enjoyy!!

“Si..” 

I almost didn’t see him walking through the front door as I was in the kitchen. His shoulders were flat and his movements were slow and monotone. 

“Sage..” Simon softly said as I placed my hands on his chest. 

“Love, take all this off of you.” I suggest, messing with the clips of his tactical vest. 

“Hm.” Simon mumbled as he let me unclip his vest and pull them off of his chest. 

“I’ll take it.” Simon said. 

I nodded as I handed him the vest and he went and put it in the garage. I just hope he is up for some warm homemade soup that I made. Tomato soup with some grilled cheese. It was a rainy, cold day so soup was a good call. Simon likes my cooking, I just hope he is alright with it. Simon came back in, all of his gear gone from his body. 

“There’s my racoon.” I joke, referring to the black paint that was still around his face. 

“Oh shite.” Simon chuckled. 

“I made some homemade tomato soup and I can make grilled cheese if you want.” I told him as I followed him into the bathroom. 

“That sounds lovely. I’ll take a grilled cheese, if you don’t mind.” 

Simon turned the sink on to carefully wipe the face paint off so as to not stain the white sink we have. I leaned in and kissed his cheek, quickly but passionately. 

“Of course I don’t mind, Si.” I reassure him. 

His doe brown eyes stared into mine, but I could tell he was tired. Very tired, but he was happy to be home. 

“I’ll give you a minute and go make your grilled cheese.” I announce. 

“Thanks, Sage.” Simon thanked me. 

I smiled at him as I turned, left the bathroom and went into the kitchen. Even though I am always happy for Simon to be back home, I always give him a minute or so to be alone so he can wind down and decompress and become Simon Riley again and not Ghost, even though that mask of his looks so damn sexy on him. Both the skull mask and the balaclava skull mask. I smeared some butter on both inside and outside the bread, put a slice of cheddar, muenster, and american cheese into the bread, put it together and put it face down onto the hot pan on the stove. Suddenly I felt a pair of hands behind me, but I didn’t fret. 

“Simon, you scared me.” I half joked, “your alias name is true to its name.” 

Simon chuckled, leaning his face into my neck, placing a kiss on it. Although I love Simon, he was being overly affectionate this time. I wonder if something happened while he was deployed. I felt his hands land on my hips, massaging them. He always knew what spots to get with me. I flipped his grilled cheese, a perfect golden brown color being revealed. 

“Just how I like ‘em.” Simon said, feeling his hands sink lower. 

I pretended to not notice what he was doing, but I was secretly enjoying it. Simon’s hands then went down to my ass, his big hands cupping each cheek. 

“Simon Riley!” I jokingly disciplined him. 

“Wha’, my love?” 

“You’re gonna make me burn your grilled cheese.” 

Simon just chuckled, kissing my neck passionately. 

“I missed ya.” 

“I missed you too, Simon.” 

Simon moved his hands around my waist, brought me close to his chest, and he leaned his head onto my neck, just holding me. Simon's grilled cheese was done and I took it off the pan and onto a plate. Simon remained silent but it was normal once he got the ‘I missed you so much’ hug and kiss out of the way when he first got home. I like to think it's his brain trying to decompress from being out in the field and remind himself that he is home now. Simon and I sat at the dining table, eating in silence. I wanted to converse with him, but I also wanted to give him as much space as he wanted before overwhelming him. I noticed then that Simon had finished his bowl of soup and his entire sandwich. 

“Did you like it?” 

“I did. It was the best bloody fucking thing I had in a long time.” Simon commented, making me chuckle. 

“Do you want some more? I made plenty.” I offered. 

Simon went silent, eyeing the big pot of soup that sat on the warm burner on the stove. He shook his head. 

“Are you sure?” 

Simon nodded again, without speaking. 

“Is everything alright, love?” I ask, reaching for Simon's hand and holding it. 

Simon held back softly and gently as if he was afraid I would crack easily like glass. 

“Yes.” 

Just by his plain response, I could tell he had a rough mission, whatever it was that he did. He tells me some but I don't want to know a whole lot unless he wants me to know. Simon silently got up with his dishes and went and put them on the sink, washing them. 

“Love, go sit down and relax.” I half joked, approaching him. 

Simon didn't say anything. He just kept washing his dish. 

“Simon.” I called him. 

Finally he stopped, turned and looked at me. I was about to demand to talk to him, but his doe eyes stopped me in my tracks. They pierced mine, as if he was trying to non verbally tell me something. His shoulders were down and his body was limp. Relaxed. 

“Let's go freshen up in the bath. Hm?” I suggested. 

Simon did a half smile. 

“Okay.” 

I cleaned up the soup mess quickly and then led Simon to our master bathroom. I held his hand the whole time and I could feel his body relaxed but tense at the same time. I knew asking him about what's wrong would be useless. He will tell me when he wants to. 

“Bath or shower?” 

“You pick, Sage.” 

I wanted to dedicate this to him and him only, even if he thinks he doesn't deserve it. I walked over to the faucets and turned them on, making sure the water was at a good temperature. Once it was at a good hot temperature, I pulled the drain plug up to clog the hole. 

“Oh.” I mumbled as I turned around to see Simon undressing himself. 

“Wha'?” 

“Oh nothing.” I smirked as I walked up to him. 

I placed my hands on his chest, feeling his rough but soft skin. Simon didn't bore a six pack but he was definitely muscular in the arms and upper chest. He was good looking to me no matter what but his chest has to come to be my favorite pillow. He had a few scars on his chest due to his years in the Task Force but I think they make him more attractive and they each tell a story that he has already told me. 

“You're so pretty.” I mumbled, rubbing my hands up and down his chest. 

“I'd like to think that you're prettier than me.” 

“Stop it, Simon. You're beautiful.” 

I planted a small kiss on his shoulder, hearing a soft rumble come from him. I turned back around to find the tub was full so I went and turned the faucets off. I stood there and waited for Simon, who was left in his boxers. 

“You gettin’ in?” 

“You first. I want to pamper you.” 

Simon was a little surprised by my response but obliged. He then pulled his boxers off of his body, and slowly stepped into the bath, wincing in the process. 

“You okay?” I got close to the tub. 

“Y-Yea’. Just bloody fucking sore.” 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Not your fault, love.” Simon said. 

“Where are you sore at?” 

“Me back.” 

I immediately went through the bathroom cabinets and drawers, eventually finding what I wanted. Massage oil. 

“I got you, Si.” I say. 

Simon eyed the massage oil and then back to me. 

“Please.” 

Simon grumbled as he leaned forward, giving his back full access to me. I put some oil onto my hand and rubbed it onto his upper back. 

“Hmhm. Fuck.” Simon grumbled. 

“Is that it?” 

I immediately felt stupid asking that. No, Sage, that can't be where it hurts the most if he curses in pain. 

“Yes. Right ‘here.” 

I don't know how Simon tolerates me with some of the stupid shit I say but he does. And to this day he still loves me. Hearing confirmation from Simon, I started rubbing the oil more onto his back and dug my fingers into his back harshly but gently at the same time. Simon groaned in pain every time I moved my fingers and I felt bad but I know it's needed and he will feel better once I get done. My fingers were absolutely slick with the massage oil as I was pressing and moving my fingers into the middle upper part of his back, close to his spine as that's where most of his pain resided. 

“Oh fuck, love.” 

Did..Did he just? What he said immediately went straight to my stomach, my face burning red and warm. I know he did it out of pain and relief from his back, but my God did he have to say it like that? 

“You okay, Simon?” I ask, trying to forget what he said. 

Simon sighed deeply as he leaned back, his head resting in between my legs. He opened his eyes and stared upright at me. 

“I am now.” 

I giggled, moving little strands of his blonde hair out of his face. 

“Did that help any?”

“Yes. Thank you, Sage.” Simon thanked me. 

I leaned down and planted a kiss on Simon's lips. Suddenly feeling his teeth nibbling on my lips. I pulled back to see Simon with a shit eating grin. 

“Maybe later~” I say with a smirk. 

“You tease..” Simon mumbled, raising his head up and facing forward. 

“Now,” I started as I washed the massage oil off of my hands and reached for his shampoo, “tell me how your operation went.” 

I could hear Simon sigh, but he should know me by this point. I always want to know how his missions went, even if he can't tell me much about them. He remained silent as I squirted some of his shampoo into my hand, rubbed my hands together and began lathering the soap into his hair. 

“It was..a mission ‘lright.” Simon mumbled out as I got down to his scalp. 

“How so?” 

Come on Si. 

“Well, we had to rescue some hostages.” Simon started. 

I squirted some more shampoo into my hands due to Simon's thick ass hair. 

“Oh shit, how did that go?” 

Simon was silent once again as I finished washing his hair. I have always wanted to call him Goldie Locks but I'm afraid he would kill me for that. Still going on without saying anything, I rinsed my hands in the bath water. 

“I need to rinse your hair, Si.” I told him. 

Simon scooted forward as I sank down and silently cursed at myself, being forgetful of the fact that I was still wearing jeans as I sat down into the bath. Oh well, you're lucky you're worth it Simon. Simon leaned all the way back till his face was above the water still. He remained in strong eye contact as I rinsed the soap out of his hair. His eyes were a gorgeous brown, I could get lost in them. 

“Done.” I announced and Simon rose up, his back facing me. 

I sat on my knees and grabbed some of his body soap. 

“The mission went good. All of the hostages were saved and unharmed. But..” 

“Hm?” I say as I started to lather his body in soap. 

I could hear him wince a little bit, but not as bad as he did earlier. 

“There..there was a kid.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Youn’ kid. Couldn’t have been older than five. When Johnny and I were trying to calm down the hostages, the kid kept latching to me. Even though I had a skull mask on, the bloody kid wouldn’t let go ‘f me. Even when he got reunited with his mum, the kid wouldn’t let go of me.” Simon explained as I finished bathing his body. 

I felt my heart race a little bit as Simon told me all of that. We never really discussed having kids. The conversation has certainly came up before though and Simon was iffy about them. But the fact that most normal people are terrified of him, rightfully so, but a young kid latched onto Simon during a scary moment in their life warmed my heart. 

“He knew you were a good and kind soul during that scary moment.” I say, rinsing his body off. 

“Yeah,” Simon chuckled, “cause upon my appearance you’d think I would be a good and kind soul.”

“You are to me.” 

Simon sighed deeply, not out of annoyance but more as he was processing what happened. 

“You’re a good man, Simon.” 

I leaned my head onto his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him. Simon held my hands, just embracing into my touch. I kissed his shoulder, as a gentle reminder that I was here for him and always would be. No matter what happens with him or what becomes of the both of us, I would always be here for him. Simon Riley. Simon. Riley. 

“Thank you, love.” 

END

[actual-changeling]

Do you think Aziraphale has been verbally, emotionally and psychologically abused by Heaven as well?

I will answer this question like one asked in good faith even though my gut is telling me there's a 50/50 chance it is very much not one.

So!

There are two parts to his answer, or rather one question is actually two.

Firstly, we have to talk about whether heaven is abusive, what that abuse looks like, and how it differs from hell.

Secondly, how did the results of question one affect Aziraphale, if it is different from what the other angels in heaven face, and what additional trauma might he have experienced due to being on earth.

I could write a 10k meta post about this and go into the finest detail, but I will just try and stick to the main points for now. It's still going to be way too long because I am so fucking tired of people accusing me of 'hating' Aziraphale or harassing me on my posts or in my inbox.

Is heaven abusive? Yes, and it applies to both heaven as an institution and the Archangels running it.

Getting to know Muriel and what their life looks like was extremely helpful in properly defining this, because they showed us that although the Archangels tend to travel and work as a group, most of the angels are incredibly isolated.

The result is complete emotional neglect, which not only impairs your ability to form and maintain healthy relationships with other people, it also stops your from learning emotional regulation and how to behave and feel as a part of (angelic) society. We see the consequences of that in Muriel, who comes across as overly naive, socially awkward, and out of touch with not just people but themselves.

When your entire life has been shrunk down to what happens inside your own head, suddenly being confronted with having to live outside of your mind is jarring, overwhelming, and foreign.

How do you talk to people when no one ever taught you how to do that? How do you behave around someone after a lifetime of being alone? How do your regulate your responses to their behaviour?

Who are you when there is someone else to perceive you?

Figuring that out is complicated and it takes time, and while most of the angels are only distantly aware of how humans live and what kind of interactions some of the other angels might have, the effects of that neglect stay the same whether they are aware of it or not.

Muriel shows us that angels are not born/made as a blank slate, and neither are humans for that matter. Tabula rasa as a philosophical belief is one thing, but reality is very, very different.

Angels also appear to have the same inherent need for connection, for a caretaker that loves them unconditionally, for someone to help them figure out how to be, and that provides a safe space to make mistakes. Without some or all of that, you grow up into a disregulated, socially awkward if not inept person who does not know how to have relationships or how to properly exist.

It is one of the reasons why autistic people are a) almost always traumatized to some degree and b) do not know how to socialize. No one ever works with our brains, and the resulting neglect is very similar to not receiving any help at all.

If you are now curious what happens if you're both autistic and were completely socially neglected, the result is uh. me. Hi! Not nice, but at least I am very sure I win the award for being my therapist's most fucked up client, so that's something.

Yet the angels are not solely emotionally neglected, the system/household they live in demands a low self-esteem, a lack of individual identity, and complete adherence to a defined ideology and behavioural pattern. In short, you are told how to be a useless, tiny part in a bigger machine, that your only purpose is to succeed at your tasks, and any opportunity for individual development is removed or destroyed.

If you are now once again curious what that might be like, uh, yeah, hi once more. Obviously my childhood was not exactly like an angels life, but the core characteristics were the same, just realized differently. Again, not pretty, really, really fucks you over.

Take that and the neglect, combine it into one person, and then drop them in the Garden of Eden—hello Aziraphale! Crowley got dropped into hell first, experienced more abuse, and then dug his way up into Eden before joining him.

Aziraphale experienced everything Muriel (and Crowley, and every other celestial being) also experienced, with one main difference: He is the one who got away.

We have to remember that out of every single celestial being, Aziraphale got the best deal. He did not fall, he got out of heaven (more or less) permanently, and was then largely left alone.

Does that erase anything I laid out above? No, of course not!

It simply provided him with the opportunity to heal, to take his cPTSD and who knows what other disorders he developed as a result, and start recovering.

Canonically, heaven did not bother him, like, ever, except for the odd note about 'frivolous miracles' or ten minutes of catching up every millennia. They only started monitoring him once they started to suspect he was involved with Crowley and trying to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Aziraphale worked on some things, he got better in many regards, especially with Crowley there to support him, but after six thousand years, many aspects have stayed the same or regressed back to the start over and over.

I will tell you a hard pill to swallow now: If you refuse to acknowledge your issues to instead live in a world of nicer denial and compartmentalization even when you have been offered the chance to change it, that is partly on YOU.

Is it fair? Fuck no! It's not fair at all, and I have had so many breakdowns over that fact. I did not break it, this is not my FAULT so why should I have to fix it all on my own? Why do I have to do the work, not them? How come they get away with it while I am going to have to carry this for the rest of my life?

I still have to do it though. I have to do the work, no matter how uncomfortable and exhausting, because I want to get better.

-

This conversation has so many facets and is a lot more complex, but this is already long enough, so if you have any questions or want to know something specific (while asking politely and in good faith) just send me an ask; I will do my best to answer it.

-

We are now only missing the last part of question 2, and that one is also so fucking complicated reducing it to the main points almost feels wrong, but I will do it anyway. Again, just ask if you have questions.

Abusive households are horrible, and you want to get out and away, but they are also the only thing you know. The world is scary, too big, too open, where did all the rules go that were previously defining your life?

Surviving in an abusive environment means you establish routine after routine after routine for every possible horrible scenario, you write a mental rule book to try and reduce the abuse (don't make them angry, don't cry when they're already shouting, don't do this, don't do that, do x but not y), and THAT is your socialization. THAT is everything you know, everything you are, everything you know relationships to be like.

Once you are away from that, you are completely and utterly lost. Even breathing feels like making a mistake, you feel watched, judged, rated, berated, you have them stuck in your fucking head. So you keep sticking to what you know, your behavioural patterns that have kept you safe your entire life.

The problem is that they kept you safe, past tense. In a healthy environment, all of those coping mechanisms are now maladaptive and harm you instead of keeping you safe.

However, breaking out of them and starting from scratch is terrifying. So, so, so terrifying. I live in constant fear, I feel judged and unsafe in my own flat with the curtains shut and the lights on. I feel like I am about to get subjected to another one of his fits for daring to use the stove.

No matter what you do, your body and brain are SCREAMING at you that diverging from what you know will kill you—and then you have to do it anyway.

Do it alone and afraid and awkwardly but DO IT. Otherwise you will always find a way to recreate the environment you grew up in, whether that is people getting into unhealthy relationships and replicating the patterns they know (which Aziraphale does with Crowley, e.g. the push-pull of his affection) or eventually even returning to it because they ruined you, but a part of you is so, so attached to them you just have to try and change them.

Some people can move on from it without going back, but sometimes you need to try and experience that failure for yourself before being able to move on, and that's where Aziraphale is at.

He needs to try and fail to be capable of finally committing to recovering.

So, to summarize this entire shitshow: Yes, Aziraphale experienced emotional neglect and abuse, and while it is different to what Crowley went through and objectively less intense and physical, it is still just as valid and horrid.

Just because a car accident is objectively worse than falling off a bike doesn't mean the biker's pain is unimportant. Both can kill you, both can hurt you, and both deserve to get their injuries treated.

Questions?

[dead-boys-club]

You characterize everyone really great! Except Touya don't you think you write him a little too expressive? it just doesn't seem very fitting.

I'm not sure if I should say thank you or...

So, I'm not going to do what I did with Hawks and write you a whole book ( i lied ) on why I write Toya the way I do. However, I'll give a little piece:

Dabi was a mysterious, sarcastic jackass. Dabi was a cover. A persona. He didn't exist. He was built to mask intentions until Toya got where he needed and wanted to be. It's very simple.

Toya, on the other hand, in case no one's noticed is very emotional, very expressive and talks waaay too fucking much. I mean, we spent like 7 pages with him monologuing. He's not.. some emotionless, dead inside jerk and I also refuse to write him as some overly sexualized nympho - it's kind of tiring seeing all these characters reduced to nothing but sex and bad clichés. I mean - he's a super traumatized, unstable dude with a mental issue here and there, who actually enjoyed hurting people, but he's not a sociopath. However, he's also not in denial about a single thing. He knows what he went through, he knows what he's doing, he knows he's a little unhinged.

However - you're talking about a kid who basically just wanted attention and approval, who wanted his dad to be proud of him. Lmao, I hate to break it to you anon, but half the people I know, including myself, are very familiar with this kind of situation and the trauma of it. ( if you feel the need to come at me for the burning alive part, you can take your smart-ass right to the block button and not waste my time. )

I really, really hate that I have to keep repeating myself about these characters actually having depth and being more complex than you give them credit for.

Do you even understand what its like to be a deeply traumatized person, who sought those things and ended up so fucking disappointed that you became someone else? That you stopped trusting, stopped loving - you just kinda broke? The scenarios and reactions I've written for him with a partner convey someone who finally found someone else that isn't pushing him away, isn't screaming at it and is accepting how he wants to deal with things. And I've also made it clear in my writings of him that it confuses the shit out if him and he doesn't just accept that someone loves him and is proud of him... because how the hell is he supposed to know how to react to something he's never had? I didn't just.. make him into a character that changed over night and is good and happy, etc etc. No. Because I know better and I'm not going to shit on a character with complexities stemming from trauma and mental disorders.

As someone with a handful of mental problems, trauma out of the ass, that relates to this character on a pretty scary level - I refuse to write him on the surface of what Dabi was supposed to portray. I will continue to write Toya the way I always have and if you don't like it, that's perfectly fine. I'm not asking you to like it or change your OPINION, because that's what it is, but you will not come onto my page and tell me it's wrong. Lmfao.

I'm sorry that you want some shitty, second hand surface level Dabi writing that I refuse to give. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Hopefully you find another writer who will do that for you.

( Let me clarify: I am 100% shitting on how this opinion was brought to me. I'm not shitting on people that write him that way, not everyone spends 179395 hours in a fixation obsession over a character; I do. Write how you want. Write how it makes you happy. But don't go to people and talk to them like this.)

You could have easily written something like 'you characterize everyone really great but I don't agree with toya. can i ask why you characterize him like this?' Literally could've just asked. Not 'oh this is great except this one this one is wrong'.

If it doesn't seem fitting to you, that's okay. Then my writing isn't your taste. Go find someone else you enjoy?

[elvencantation]

weird things i don’t know if i can attribute to trauma or adhd or social anxiety:

-super sensitive smell and taste. carbonation hurts my tongue

-sometimes brain decides perfectly good food is bad (usually if i’ve had it too many times or its too bland) and if i make myself eat it i’ll have a stomachache (also sometimes i just don’t have the energy to try new foods)

-subset of this: i am very sad when my tomatoes or nectarines (or anything else that i love to be firm) is soft or otherwise unusually textured. like if i can see they’re wrinkly or lumpy i will not eat them. i am currently staring at some sad tomatoes being like. will my mouth accept them or will they be too soft

-unspoken social rules i don’t know and anxiety about new social situations i have no context for, no list of example responses and what it leads to

-i have two social modes that its very hard to find middle ground between: stranger and person who is safe

-bothers me when people are wrong about something and i am often not able to stop myself from correcting them

-very blunt and bad at subtext, take things way too literally especially when im tired

-let me expound on that. even when i know the question isn’t meant literally, usually i answer it literally first, then as they meant it. i play it off as a joke but it’s hard to resist being totally and completely honest if there isn’t a reason (like info about myself i think people don’t need to know)

-no understanding of peer pressure and why someone would change themselves to fit in (like srsly how do you find genuine friends with common interests and stuff if you’re hiding who you are?)

-annoyed by overly self-deprecating statements. have dealt with this by being overly sarcastic like- OH MY GOD. HOW DARE YOU HAVE HUMAN EMOTIONS AROUND ME, ANOTHER HUMAN YOU TRUST AND WHO CARES ABOUT YOU???

-constant over analysis of myself and how new people perceive me, esp coworkers (since they’re not friends, they don’t choose to spend time with me) UPDATE: i’ve mostly stopped doing this. turns out it was social anxiety and the fact that i had to meet like over fifty new coworkers at once

-i logic my own emotions. i can logic myself out of them sometimes if they’re negatively affecting me. usual example: i can usually set aside my anxiety at something if there's nothing i can do to change it. or more accurately if i've taken a step towards fixing whatever triggered it

-very slow reflexes/processing time

-can’t stand pet hair on my clothes or stuff

⁃very fluid sense of opinion. very influenced by the opinions of those im close to. to the point where a dress i loved, i couldn’t bear to wear because my mom said it looked trashy. to the point where my best friend said she didn’t like a song, so i didn’t really like it (i just listened to it, and its not a bad song. i think i do like it? idk) i think this used to be more severe when i had less self confidence but still happens now sometimes

-secondhand embarrassment can become so unbearable and i have to plug my ears and want to hide

-dissociating after 2+ hours staring at a screen

-if there’s no background noise i can hear my ears ringing and that’s not fun

-i never get angry. upset sure. anger or rage? i can remember feeling properly angry like. once. when my brother was young and traumatized and did something totally stupid and fucked with my sweet cousin. that’s… pretty much it. but mostly it was my protective instinct and i think i was scared cause i didn’t understand what was happening

-the sheer panic and frustration that happens when someone misunderstands my words consistently. like if you cannot understand what i am saying how do i communicate with you? in the time honored words of dr seuss: "i meant what i said and i said what i meant"

[pomefioredove]

Hi hello hi

I really really really LOVE YOUR STORIES

They're so so so so so good

And i love to reread them and i come back to em (my sense of time awareness -temporal awareness???- is terrible tho so sometimes I think it's been weeks since i read one but it turns out to only be a day)

Anyways, your writing

Is

So

GOOD

I love it

It's so WONDERFUL!!

Love the way you write Vil and Rook and reallly all of the characters

It's so delicious so delightful so wonderful and so satisfying and just THE BEST

I don't want to repeatedly reblog at times mostly cause i know that tends to translate as lots lots of notifs (i can be a bit spammy with my comments and reblogs so i try not to be too much but also your stuff is so so so so so so so so so GOOD )

The writing is simply immaculate in that it's so cozy and so delightful to read yet one still feels like it's the character and it's one of those cases of "the writing makes it feel canon even if that character doesn't always act like that". Not sure if that makes sense, but understand it's positive connotations. I love how you create these stories and the way you write them. The wording is so good and it feels both descriptive and gets details and emotions across yet not blandly concise and dry. It's really really really such a delight to read your stuff and i wanted you to know that without obliterating notifs with stuff (also cause i get tired or even WORSE - i blank out in the comment section or reblog section cause i got too excited and then i can't think about what exactly to write down lol)

Anyway, dropping this in the ask box

P.S. - pardon if overly energetic, trying not to be too much after sipping multiple cups of coffee- I'm so jittery and my heart is hype and it doesn't help that i was rereading your stuff and i just get so damn happy that i get jittery and big burst of energy. Like like idk lol

Like being attacked by cozy feelings and joy and kicking your feet under the covers kinda feeling (i wonder if this is how my guinea pig feels when she popcorns and jumps or when my dog does zoomies. I bet they're squeeing lol)

I think it's also cause I tend to have high energy and feel relatively intensely about lots of things (though it's more like JUST feeling though not affecting the actions as much lol- like squeeing but i can get up and do chores after??? Idk)

Anyway, LOVE YOUR STORIES

Super good and super awesome and i love them (again am hype on so much coffee and also from stories so combo whammy lol)

first of all! let it be known that I LOVE getting spammed, reblog and like and comment as much as your heart desires because it makes me SO happy, I love have my notifs blown up

second of all! THANK YOU SO MUCH

I keep like every nice comment I get, they give me the motivation to get through the day =w= I read all of yours especially, I think they're just so sweet and detailed and I love them... I think the first time you left a nice comment on one of my works I showed my friends because I got so excited

and thank you so so much about the comments on my characterization... I really enjoy getting to analyze and understand a character and then writing them with that in mind. I'm not perfect at it for all the twst characters just yet but my scope has definitely improved since I started here! it's kind of an exploratory process

I'd attribute my writing style to my background in poetry ^w^ I was formally trained as a poet until ~15 (tho I kept writing on my own) I'm unable to give every fic my all but I try to be a little creative with them at the very least! and the headcanons too

as for vil and rook... pomefiore has always been my fave dorm since snow white is my second favorite disney movie, I think about them all so much, I really relate to both epel and vil for various reasons too. my beloveds, really

ANYWAY. knowing that I'm doing something that makes people so happy is really the highlight of this, there's no better feeling than seeing someone go feral over my writing in the notes! truly the best part about creating art is seeing its emotional effect on people

this is the first x reader blog I've ever had (I made one like 2 years ago but was too shy to post so I deleted) and the experience I've had here so far has been so good. I used to be very scared of interacting w fandoms, being a naturally kinda scaredy person, but everyone here is so nice and talented?? it's the best I love it here

and feel free to ramble anytime! I love it

[jokeringcutio]

I didn't know if you take asks or not, new to your blog. But I just wanted to ask something about your recent fic the stepdad William, pregnancy one.

(And in no way am I trying to get you to change the story to how you want it to go)

But I was curious, if through everything the reader goes through what would Williams reaction be if she decided to run away. Obviously she won't want to hurt her mom and she might try and reach out to her mother after a bit. But maybe one night it gets to much to see him coddling readers mom about her pregnancy and ignore her around the mom so she decides to skip to a friend's or something that might be far from the house, and makes sure to tell the police about running off so they don't write a missing person report if anyone went to the police about her whereabouts. Just curious about your thoughts on this.

Oh, Anon, that is such a wonderful plotline💜, I hadn't even thought of that.

Also: Welcome to my blog, always feel free to poke me. I enjoy talking to mutuals :)

First things first, My stepdad drabbles are mostly stand-alone snippets. Though some can be seen as following up on each other :3 So I can write any situation I want.

Second of all, yep, two more drabbles are coming up this week that link to the pregnancy one. So strap in👀. And yes, I now desperately want to write your suggestion. But here are some thoughts:

If Reader ran away, * Mom would be devastated.

And let's be honest, William would be too. 👀 So there's that to consider, mentally. I think Reader will be aware of that and knowing you'll hurt your mom, while she is already overly emotional. Well... * Then there's William to consider. Want to upset him? Possibly yes. Though Reader might also be scared of angering him/going against his will. In my mind, even when he is a horrible ass to the Reader, Stepdad William Afton is smitten with Reader in his own way and probably prefers what they have over what he has with the mom. Whether it is purely based on power and control, sexual attraction, or actual love. I like to canon the idea that William would want to keep Reader near.

Ah sweetie... look at that face of Daddy... You're not gonna run away from that? Or are you 👀 MUAHAHAHAH

* If we take William as the man who actually rejoices in the idea of having a kid with Reader, possibly hid her contraceptives in hopes of her falling pregnant, or having some kind of twisted breeding kink... well.... Whatever it is. William will be very angry if Reader leaves. And phew... prepare for that! * Next item on the list, where will you go? Can Reader risk scurrying the streets? Do you have a friend to crash at? But for how long?Practical little details and risks to calculate. Plus, Reader will be pregnant. And though some will have little difficulties while in that state, others will be too tired, too sick, suffering from complications, etc. So you're taking risks here and adding even more stress and worry to your mind. But suppose you leave in an emotional rush, suppose you have that friend to stay at. Then we arrive to the next, and most thrilling part:

* Informing the police. OH YES. If you do this, what will you tell them? Because I can guarantee you, if I write this, they will notice the pregnant tummy. And then? Would you lie and say you got knocked up by a random boy from school/study and your parents are mad about it? [ Shielding Afton's reputation but leaving him wielding power over you?] Or, would you honestly tell them you are carrying your stepdad's child? Because in the latter, think of what kind of effect it will have on him.

[ Risking him being seen as a criminal with possible jail time ahead pending, we can take this as far as we want to, anon. As far as we want >D. In his best case, you can defend that things have been mutual and he just gets to hear to stay away from you.] William's reputation... wow.... The neighborhood finding out your little secret. 👀

So MANY possibilities, Anon, I just afshgafahagh So, to answer a short question long, This is such an interesting angle and I love to hear your opinions on it. I feel tempted to write a scenario where Reader legs it whilst carrying stepdad's child. Think of all the drama and angst that we could have. And then, which way shall we go? Is it just ordinary but pervy stepdad Afton? Or will it be more canonical killer!Afton who is your daddy? I mean, the world is our oyster. Anon :3 Love you. Thank you for interacting and sharing your mind with me.

[13eyond13]

3, 10, 15?

3. What is your favourite way to self care?

I love afternoon naps and evening baths before bed, and I love taking long drives in the country to unwind while listening to any music I want.

10. Tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

When I was younger I was the kind of person who was very afraid to do anything, particularly attend social events or try something new, without my best friend going along with me. I often felt as though it would be too vulnerable or like I was too uninteresting a person just to venture out on my own, or something like that. I had what you'd probably consider codependent best friendships and romantic relationships a couple different times in my life. In my mid to late twenties I got tired of feeling so shy and inadequate without a partner next to me and worked hard at learning how to feel like I was fine and enough all on my own to be by myself and show up to events and try new things and make big decisions without anybody else's input. I did this through reading about codependency and learning how to recognize certain kinds of self-talk and change that internal monologue. At first it was very weird, almost like I was a stranger that I had to get to know as a person for the first time outside of the influence of another person I was trying to please. It's probably one of the better things I've ever done for myself though, and I genuinely do not wish to ever go back again to the unhealthy enmeshed sort of dynamics I've had with other people in the past anymore.

15. Do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? Why?

I'm kind of an emotionally shy person in general who really doesn't like to make big scenes. But I would say feelings are something I think about nearly constantly, and I highly value being in touch with your emotions and emotional intelligence as a skillset in myself and others too. I probably would choose feeling things too strongly over not feeling them at all, though I am a naturally reserved person, and get uncomfortable and embarrassed easily when I can't control my emotional reactions in public and whatnot.

[deep asks that get uncomfortably personal]

[wrencatte]

-gasp- Can it be??? Am I finally actively working on the sequel for when my cage is by the window (I can see the sun)???? Recovery (fics) are always hard to write. At least for me. But I'm going to do my best!! Here's a little sneak peek at the beginning! A little bit of Bruce & Robin!Jason

Jason’s been sneaking around the Manor as of late. Bruce noticed. He will always notice. But...it’s not the kind of sneaking the kid’s been doing since he decided to be the best Robin he could be. That kind is practice. Seeing if he can sneak up on the old man and take him by surprise for the first time ever – and failing, because Bruce will never not be hyperaware of his children’s presence, Batman or no Batman. This kind of sneaking. Well, it’s the kind of sneaking he used to do when he first came to the Manor, all skin, and bones and with a fearful sort of stubbornness that made him jack the tires of the Batmobile just to make sure he would  have enough to eat over the winter.

Unfortunately, Bruce knows exactly why this sneaking has popped back up. And he hates himself a little for being unable to just…put to words what he means.

So, the next time they pass each other in the kitchen, Bruce taps his shoulder in lieu of grabbing his arm. Jason actually stops, shoulders scrunching to his ears, sweatshirt all baggy and loose. He can hear the crinkle of plastic from the pocket and his heart clenches just a little. Food hoarding isn’t an easy habit to break, not after years of food insecurity, but he’d thought….he’d thought Jason had felt a safer than that, he thought it’d lessened. To have to reemerge so loudly now.

Bruce swallows. He messed up – but he also didn’t. Jason needed to be benched from Robin. He needs to – Bruce needs to find a therapist for him.

And isn’t that funny, that he’s thinking that now?

But there’s a difference, he’s pretty sure, between him becoming Batman and Dick taking on Robin compared to the grief turned anger turned recklessness that Jason is going through right now. People process grief in different ways, and he was an idiot for thinking two boys (three, because he’d also just been a boy) were the same.

He’s quiet for too long. Jason’s spine curls and he hunches in on himself, already two steps closer to the exit. Bruce takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, and says –

“Hey, you know I love you, right?”

Jason freezes. Doesn’t turn around. Just freezes like a baby deer caught in the headlights of a semi. Bruce reaches for him before he hesitates then pulls back. It feels weird, not gathering him into a hug. He’s never been overly affectionate, at least physically, but he’s learned well through Dick’s love for hugs and arms over shoulders. He feels like he’s implemented it well with Jason too, learning when hugs are okay, when to swap them out for hair ruffles or pats on the shoulder. Knows Jason never really asks for the hugs he so desperately craves, so he’s learned to spot the signs.

The signs now scream don’t touch me. Bruce wants to hug him. Reassure him.

But he listens and obeys the signs.

“If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Bruce says lightly. If he pushes, Jason will close off even more. He’s handled this all wrong.

Did he fall…or was he pushed? he’d asked, not because of some sort of – condemnation or accusation. Not because he believed Jason to have done it. It was purely to know how to handle the emotional fall out. If he were pushed. If he’d fallen and Jason tried to catch him. If he’d fallen, then Jason refused to try and catch him. They all have different responses.

And Bruce failed in every one of them.

But maybe he still has time to fix this. Maybe –

“Yeah, sure,” Jason says. He refuses to meet Bruce’s eyes, his voice is rough and raspy, gritty in the way it gets when he’s been crying and sneaking smokes. “You got it, boss man.”

He tucks his hands a little further into his pocket, package crinkling, and hurries out the kitchen, dodging Alfred just in time.

Bruce watches him go, stomach sinking, some foreboding feeling filling the empty space up in its place. Alfred gives him a commiserating look, a hand on his shoulder.

“He’ll come around,” he says.

“I hope so,” Bruce murmurs. “I’ll check on him in a few hours.”

(In a few hours, all Bruce will find is an open window – the security system expertly bypassed – two books missing from his evergreen pile on the bedside table, and a note on the bed in his wobbly, careful handwriting.

In a few days, all Bruce will find is his son’s body, broken and already cooling.)

[anythingelsereally014]

I had this one in my private notes, so yay! Not many sneezes, loads of angst, mentions of death and intravenous stuff. No one dies, though, just a really really bad flu

I don't know the word cound, I'm sorry, but it's big

ma/rauders sick j/ames

"I think you're getting sick, mate," Peter says casually to James at the coffee shop. James is on his break, Sirius told him to take his time because he isn't feeling great. "Take it easy today, are you sure you can't leave early?"

"You know I can't, not today."

Normally, Sirius and Remus would be fine on their own, the three of them run the coffee shop by themselves and when one of them needs to leave early or stay home, it's not a problem. But it is the day of the full moon, meaning that Remus is in pain and mustn't overwork himself.

They have a rule for that, the Marauders, a rule they can't break, Remus isn't allowed to tire or overwhelm himself next to the full, it may lead to terrible consequences.

Peter sighs. "I know that you're right, but Merlin, the way you run this shop it's annoying sometimes. You should hire people, you own this fucking place, having staff would help you."

"Nuh uh," James shakes his head, they have had that talk before. "You know we don't want a big shop, just a family thing, but I can't leave them alone today, no matter how awful I'm feeling."

"Right, I get it," Peter looks at his phone and gets up. "I have to go, take it easy, don't force yourself too much, save your strength. I'll tell Regulus to meet you here and drive you home."

"He doesn't like to drive."

"I'm sure he won't mind, he knows we have to go with Moony tonight."

And with that, Peter leaves, his break is over and he needs to go back to the hospital, so James decides to get back to work too, clean the counters and wash the dishes, at least. He'll try not to interact with costumers too much, besides the possibility of him being actually sick and infecting them, socializing always drains him.

He isn't feeling so bad, really, just overly tired and sensitive, could be an emotional thing, he can get like this, even achy and weak sometimes.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave, James?" Remus asks in the kitchen. "You're looking pale."

"I'll stay, I'm sure I'm just tired."

Remus pulls James' eyelids with his thumbs and tutts. "What the fuck, Moony?"

"Even your eyes are pale."

"I'll be fine, we're slow today, you know the rule, you have to take it easy, especially today."

"Alright," he nods with a frown. "if anything changes you'll tell us, promise you'll tell us."

"I promise."

The day was pretty slow, as James had said, and they closed early. The coffee shop isn't really for money, more of a hobby, so it isn't really a problem. "I'll see you at eight, Reg said he'll make us something for breakfast, so we're going straight to my house after, alright?"

"Are you sure you're coming today?" Sirius asks with a frown. People are frowning at him too much today. "It'll be a good moon, we'll be fine."

"I am, don't worry, I know what I can or can't take."

"And are you sure you're alright to drive home on your own? Don't you want us to stay with you and wait for Reg?"

"Merlin, Sirius, I'm fine, just a bit tired. I already texted him to say he can go straight home, he likes apparating better, cars make him sick." They nod. "See you soon."

"Take care of yourself."

James rolls his eyes, but smiles at them. He'd probably do the same thing if it was Peter or Sirius on his place, but he won't be able to live with himself if he doesn't go tonight.

Sure, he was feeling a bit weird on the drive home, but he got there safe and texted his friends to make sure they knew he was alive.

.

He wakes up with Regulus' hand on his forehead. "Peter said you're ill, I do think you're a bit warm."

"Welcome home, Reg," he smiles. "I would kiss you but if I'm sick, maybe I shouldn't."

"You know I don't care about it, don't you?"

"Well, I do," he gets up and walks to the kitchen. "I brought scones and bread for us, could you set the table so I can get ready?"

"Are you sure you're going?"

"I'm just a bit tired, Reg, it's a short night and Moony is in a good mood, I'll be fine."

"Alright," he bites his lip. "I'll make breakfast for you and if anything happens, send me a patronus."

"I will, don't worry."

He walks to the bedroom and all but collapses on his bed, sighing and rubbing his eyes. His head is starting to hurt and his skin is sensitive, not just the regular emotional tiredness, then. He gathers all his things and takes a deep breath. He'll be fine, he always is.

It was half past seven when he got ready, so he had to eat quickly, kissing Regulus' head in goodbye and apparating to Sirius' house, the moon would rise at nine and set at five, it'd be fine.

"You're looking even worse, James," Remus points as soon as he gets there. "Are you sure you're coming?"

"I am," he sighs, rubbing his temples. "Just a headache, do you think a painkiller would be a bad idea?"

Peter doesn't need to be asked twice, finding a bottle of ibuprofen out of nowhere and giving him two pills. "It'll be a great idea."

James isn't one to take medicine, he doesn't like it, but desperate times asks for desperate measures.

.

The night wasn't bad, as they had predicted, Moony was in a great mood and didn't even try to hurt himself, they mostly ran through the forest until the sun started to appear. That's the worst part, seeing Remus in pain, rearranging all his organs and breaking all his bones just to come back to his human form, they were really disturbed when they first saw it happening. When Remus said it was painful, they didn't really understand how painful. Seeing his brother like that always breaks his heart.

Soon enough, James is back home. It's a sunny and warm day, the only problem is that he was shivering just as much as Remus.

It's alright, really. Staying awake and active all night just made him feel worse, but he'll be fine once he can rest.

"You're not going to work today," Sirius tells him at breakfast. "Moony and I can take it, stay home and rest."

"Isn't he tired?" He asks them, then looks at Remus. "Aren't you tired?"

"I'm better than you, please stay home today, we'll see how you feel tomorrow."

He looks at Peter and Regulus, seeking professional opinions, but both of them agree. "I can take Regulus' patients today," Peter says. "This way you won't be alone."

"I just have a slight fever," he looks at his husband. "You can go to work, I'll be alright on my own and I will call you if anything happens."

"Alright, I'll have my phone with me."

James actually slept the whole day, only waking up to the sound of the door being unlocked and Regulus coming in. He managed to feel even worse than before, not only is he shivering, he's freezing cold, his skin is sensitive and achy and his head feels clogged.

"You didn't send any news, James, what happened?"

"W'time is it?"

"About seven, I got caught up with a patient and had to stay for a bit longer, I texted you, but you didn't reply, I was worried sick."

"I'm glad you didn't leave early," Merlin, his throat is burning with every word. "I just slept the whole day."

Reggie leans to kiss his head and widens his eyes, he didn't even touch him, why did he widen his eyes?

"Take of your clothes and take a warm shower."

He wants to tease him or complain, but he doesn't have the strength, everything is feeling slow and weird. Moving isn't so easy either, even the effort of lifting his head makes him dizzy.

Oh, bloody hell, he is worse than he thought.

"Reg," he whispers. "I'm not feeling well."

"I know, James," he says softly. "You feel really warm, I need you to get up and take a warm shower."

"I can't," he feels his eyes burning. "I'm sorry, I should have stayed home last night."

"It's alright, it's alright. I'll help you, do you think you can get up with help?" He doesn't think so, but nods anyway. "Are you sure? I can just get a wet cloth if you think you can't get up."

Merlin, he can't even answer him. What is happening to him?

"I'll be right back, alright? Just stay awake."

Things feel foggy, he doesn't think he'll be able to stay awake, he wishes he hadn't woken up.

"James," Regulus calls from somewhere in their flat. "Talk to me, can you talk to me?"

"I guess," he croaks thickly, but it comes out no louder than a whisper.

"Talk to me, what about that thing you were reading? That character you told me about?"

Oh, that. He usually feels so excited when thinking about that. He can't, though, everything is hurting. A painful cough escapes when he opens his mouth to speak.

"I'll be right back, please stay awake."

He's trying to. He is, he promises he's trying.

.

He wakes up with Regulus lightly shaking his arm, the lights have changed, it's darker now. And Regulus had showered, his hair is wet.

"I think I managed to bring your fever down a little."

"I tried to stay awake, Reg."

"I know you did, I'm not angry, I promise."

"But you told me tohh heh'tshiew huh'eshiew snfff." Oh Merlin, he sneezed on his husband's face. Wetly. But he can't gather enough strength to apologise properly. "You should stay away from me, I'm obviously sick and I don't want you to get sick too. I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, I couldn't hold it, I'm sorry."

"Oh, James, don't worry. I'm not leaving you for this, I see worse every day, I might even be the one who got you this sick."

"But you're fine, aren't you?"

"Fine people can still transmit viruses, love. I had a patient with a high fever and a bad upper respiratory infection a couple of days ago, she was dreadful, the poor thing. I've already been exposed to this and you don't have to worry about getting me sick."

"Alright."

"Can you sit up for me?"

He does with Regulus' help, but not without feeling dizzy again. "I really don't feel well."

"I can see that," he says softly with a kiss on his temple. "Do you think you can drink some water, at least?" He shakes his head. "Could you please try?"

"Do you think I got them sick too?"

"No water, then?" He asks, the glass already in his hand.

"I can try." It would have been more embarrassing, weren't he feeling so bad. He is literally drinking water with a straw and his husband's help because he can't hold a fucking glass.

"Thank you, honey, you did a good job."

"Do you think I got them sick?"

"No, I don't think so. The girl's parents were fine and so was her brother, they said she woke up feeling weird and suddenly she felt like that, we didn't have time to run more tests, but I'm pretty sure it was the flu. If they were getting sick, they would have shown the symptoms already."

"What do you mean you didn't have time? Did she die?"

"James..." He doesn't answer. Nobody speak for a while, Regulus keeps caressing his hair in complete silence. "Do you think you can drink more water?"

He doesn't answer again, but Regulus put the straw in his mouth and he drinks a bit more.

"Will you be alright on your own for a couple of minutes? I'll be quick." He doesn't answer again, he can't. "James, love, please answer me."

"Alright."

Regulus leaves and the room immediately feels colder.

The thing about living in a flat with thin walls is that you can hear everything that's happening in the whole apartment. "He's really sick, Barty, I don't know what to do... I know, I know, but what happened to her... But I'm so worried... Do you think so?... Shouldn't I take him to the hospital?..." The hospital? James freezes. He's really going to die. He hears Regulus sobbing. Oh, Merlin, Regulus will be so sad, and his friends too. Oh no, his parents, it'll break their hearts. "Right, I'll do that. Are you at the hospital right now?... Good, please tell Peter to come here when he can, would you?... Thank you, Barty, thank you so much... I love you too... I know, I know. God, I know, Barty, I'm just worried, I hate to see him like this, he can barely drink water... I know, I will... I will... Bye."

He hears some shuffling in the kitchen and soon Regulus comes back with another glass. "Can you drink this for me? All of it."

It tasts terrible, but he has to drink it. If he is going to die, he'll do everything to make sure Regulus knows it's not his fault. James knows him, he's already blaming himself.

"I work with people, Reg, this could be anything, you can't be sure it's what she had and you can't be sure you brought it home. We both work with people all day."

"I know." His voice is so thick, he'll start crying again. "I need you to drink all of it, James."

"All of it," he echoes. "All of it. All of it—"

"James."

"I'm just repeating it."

"I know you think it's soothing, but can you say something else?"

"Why did you call Barty?"

"You heard me?"

"I'm sohh heh'tishh hah'ishhh heh'tshiew snfff sorry. I didn't mean to."

"God bless you, love," he says while kissing his forehead. "I called him because he was there with me. Her parents didn't believe she was feeling bad at first, they weren't really..." He sighs. "They reminded me of my parents, that's why Barty was there with me, I couldn't stay alone with them and he was the only one I trusted to stay there with me without judging." It got even worse, how did it get even worse? He needs to comfort him. "It took them over a week to take her there, she was dehydrated. Of course they didn't tell me that, her older brother did, he told me he tried to make her eat and drink, but she couldn't, and their parents didn't bother even looking at her until he made a scene in front of guests."

"Oh, Reg, I'm sorry you had to take that case, it must have been terrible for you."

"I think it was for the best, I could talk to her brother and call the police on their parents. It didn't end well, but I think it could have ended up worse, if the boy had to go back with his parents."

"It still must have been really hard, you know you can talk to me, don't you?"

"Do you know the craziest part? His name is Rigel, her name was Zeta," he laughs, but there are tears in his eyes. "It's like I managed to save Sirius, in a way, just like they saved me."

"Did you get to talk to them about that? I think it'll be good for both of you."

"You're not going to die, James."

"But she did."

"I'm keeping you hydrated and if you're not better until tomorrow morning we're going to the hospital so we can treat you there."

"If I die—"

"You won't."

"Listen to me," he says hoarsely. "If I do die, it'll not be your fault."

"You won't die."

"I feel awful, Reg. I don't think I've ever felt this bad before. I need you to understand it won't be your fault. You have to promise me you understand that."

"I do, but you won't die, I won't let you."

"And you'll talk to my parents, you'll tell them what happened and what you told me, they'll be happy to know you helped Rigel. They won't blame you, no one will. Please don't blame yourself."

"I need you to stop."

"Do you understand?"

"James, you will not die, please stop saying that."

"Tell me you understand."

"James," he sobs. "You can't die because I won't let you, I forbid you. She was neglected and you're not, I'm here for you and I'll take care of you. You're already sounding a bit better than you did when I got home."

He isn't really feeling better, but decides against saying that. "What did you make me drink?"

"It's something to keep your electrolytes normal, water isn't enough to keep your brain working."

"You're so smart, I love you so much. You know that, don't you?"

"You can tell it to me throughout our whole lives, you don't have to tell me now."

"I still want to."

He is actually really calm about it, it's a part of life isn't it? He just hopes his family will be alright. "Peter will be here soon."

"Why did you ask him to come?"

"Because he's more experienced than I am and I want more than one doctor with you." He closes his eyes, his headache is getting worse and he starts shivering again. "James, honey, look at me."

"Cold."

"Your fever's back. Can you drink more water?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, James, you'll be alright."

"Do you think I can sleep? Or is it dangerous?"

"Of course you can sleep, love, it's not dangerous. But I'll have to wake you up from time to time, make sure you drink water and talk a bit."

"Alright," he sighs softly. "Will you stay with me?"

"I won't leave your side."

"You can leave if you need to, you have to eat and drink water too. And use the bathroom."

Regulus chuckles and kisses his head. "You're alright, you'll be alright."

"Reg, don't let mom and dad near me. I know you'll probably tell them I'm ill, but don't let them come."

"I won't," he caresses his cheek. "Sleep now, you'll feel better soon."

.

He wakes up again with Peter's soft voice. "Can you wake up for me, Prongs?" Merlin, he is still feeling horrible, even worse than before. He opens his eyes, but doesn't speak. "James, I know you find speaking hard sometimes, but I need you to answer me. I need you to say something to show me you're lucid and understanding me."

Of course he's lucid and understanding him, he's awake for Merlin's sake.

"What's your name?"

"What do you mean what's my name? You know my name."

"Then tell us, darling, please."

"My name is—" He freezes. "My name is—"

"Prongs, tell us your name."

"My name is—"

"Oh, God, oh God, oh God," Regulus chants with his hands over his face. "Oh God what did I do."

"I'm alright, Reg, I promise I'm alright."

"You don't know your fucking name, James. You're not alright."

"Regulus, I need you to calm down, drink some water and wash your face, then make another salt and sugar drink."

"I'm calm, I'm calm, I'll be right back."

"He's not calm and I'm lucid," he tells Peter. "Help him first, please."

"Can you tell me your name, then?"

"I know my name."

"I know you do," Peter puts a hand on his forehead and hisses. "Oh, mate, you're feeling awful, aren't you?"

He fells his eyes watering, he's going to cry. Why is he going to cry? So what if he's feeling awful? He shouldn't cry because of it. "My mind is weird."

"I bet it is," his voice is soft, as if he's soothing a child. "We'll get this fever down and you'll feel better."

"You should be a doctor, a kid's doctor."

"James, I—"

"Honey," he hears. .. Reg. Reg. He hears Reg calling him calmly. "Can you tell me what a kid's doctor is called?"

"A pediatrician, I'm not daft."

"And do you know who he is?"

"Of course I know who he is."

"Tell me, then."

"He's... He's my friend, he's one of my best mates, he's Wormtail."

"Great, and what's my name?"

He isn't feeling well. "Please stop. I know you. I know who you are and I know your name," his breath hitches. "Just stop asking me questions, please."

"James, mate, I need you to try," he turns to the other man. "Give him the water, he's severely dehydrated. I'm calling Moony."

He's calling Moony. Moony... "Don't call him, he needs rest. I don't remember why, but he does."

"James, honey, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

He shakes his head and basically forces the straw into his mouth. "Drink this, for the love of God, drink this."

He does, slowly. It takes him some time to finish the whole glass, it was a big glass full of nasty water. "Why does it taste so bad?"

"It's salt and sugar, it's going to help your brain to function, you'll feel better soon."

"I'm cold, Reg," he whines. "You're a doctor, can't you make me feel better?"

"I'm trying to, James," he whispers. "You will feel better soon."

"Can I sleep again?"

"Can I try to get your temperature down while you sleep?" He nods. "Then sleep, I'll stay with you."

.

He wakes up to a lot of noise, his flat is too small to fit that amount of people. Regulus is still next to him, he has changed his clothes and is asleep next to him.

He should wake him up, shouldn't he? Even though he doesn't want to, he should. He can think clearer now.

"Reg?" He jumps. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you but—"

"What's your name?"

"My name is James. You should know that by now."

Regulus smiles, a tiny smile, but a smile nonetheless. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shite."

"Is your brain better?" He nods. "Can I ask Peter and Lily to come here?"

"They're here? Why are they here? When did they get here?"

"Oh, you don't remember, do you? Peter came a few hours ago, he helped bring your fever down when you were delirious. Lily came a bit after you slept, she brought supplies from the hospital," he points the catheter in his hand. "We managed to get your fever down and keep you hydrated."

"Is this even legal?"

"I promise it is, it's homecare, better than taking you to the hospital and risk you getting pneumonia or something worse."

"You can let them in, please."

Regulus nods and leaves the room, all the noise coming from the living room cease and he closes his eyes and takes some deep breaths. Not his best move, though, he has to sneeze and he only has a hand towel next to him.

Oh well.

"God bless you, James," Lily says cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"

"I can say my name now, so that's something."

"It definitely is, but other than that? I can see you're pretty congested, is there anything else?"

"I'm not sure, I'm feeling better than I was before, but still horrible."

"Regulus said that you had a sore throat and that you were coughing, right?" He nods, he had forgotten about that part, that brain fog he was feeling before was too terrifying for him to pay attention to anything else. "A bad case of the flu, I think."

"Bad?!" Remus says at the door. "Lily the man was delirious, he didn't know his name, he didn't know Pete's name and he didn't know exactly who I am."

"He's prone to high fevers, though," Sirius says behind Remus. "And with those, comes the chills, the sweating, loss of fluids and whatnot."

"Peter's prone to high fevers and I've never seen him like that."

"If you're done," Peter says harshly. "Out, all of you."

"You sound like madam Pomfrey," James chuckles. "I mean it, you said that exactly like she does."

"I get her now. Merlin, they're nosy. Menaces, all of them," he sits down next to him. "What are you feeling? Tell us everything."

"My head hurts, my whole body hurts, my fucking joints feel on fire."

"Anything else?"

Lily is taking notes. That's serious, she never takes notes, not even in history of magic when they were at school. "My whole head is clogged up, feels like cement, my eyes are burning, my throat is sore, I think I have cold sores all over my mouth and all I want to do is go back to sleep."

"Can I see your mouth?" He opens it and puts his tongue out. "Looks like your immune system quit or went on vacation, Prongs, that's probably why you're feeling so bad."

"Where's Reg?"

"He's coming, can we cast some diagnostic spells?"

"I thought you had already done it."

"Didn't have the time, we were running with the medicine and the paperwork to be able to bring this all here without you having a fit when you started feeling better."

"Oh Pete, you know me so wehh heh'tishh hah'tSHH sdrrrk well," he sneezes at the hand towel again. "I'm glad you do."

"I'm glad you're not delirious anymore."

"So am I, really," he sighs. "But I'm still feeling awful."

Reg enters the room with a cup of tea and some crackers. "No pressure at all," he starts, "but can you try to sit up and eat something?"

He doesn't answer, he doesn't think he can.

"It's alright, don't worry."

"I'm sorry, Reg, I know I should, but moving my head is making me dizzy."

"Don't worry, we'll figure something out. We just need you to be comfortable now."

"I'll try my best."

"I'm going to cast the spells now, alright?" He nods and closes his eyes as Lily moves her wand and casts some spells James has never heard before. "Alright, this is a bad case of the flu, your lungs aren't great, so that's probably where this high fever is coming from, we could give you an antiviral treatment, but it'd be hard on your body; or we could wait it out while controlling your fever and keeping you hydrated. As your doctor, I would tell you to take the medicine, but as your friend..."

"As my friend what?"

"We gave you a potion so you're not contagious anymore, I talked to madam Pomfrey and with your mom, but they couldn't find anything that could cure you or even keep your fever down, muggle medicine tends to be better at that."

"And...?"

"I'm not trying to say you are weak, James, I promise you."

"But...?"

Regulus sighs. "Your body is weird when it comes to medicine, as you know, we never know how it'll react, do you remember the penicillin incident?"

"When I almost died? I do."

"We have all the means to make you as comfortable as possible, Lily bought intravenous medication that I can administer, Peter said he'll take some time off to stay with us, Sirius and Remus will probably want to stay as well..." He caresses James' hand. "I think it's safer if we treat you like this, I don't want to see you almost dying again, the antiviral wouldn't help that much, we don't think it's worth the risk."

"Alright."

"If you want to take it, it's alright."

"I'd rather not, better stick to the medicine I know won't kill me."

"Now try to rest for a bit, I think you might be able to sleep better now that you only have a low-grade fever."

Peter and Lily leave, but Regulus stays with him. "Are you sure you're alright? You can take the medicine if you feel you need to."

"I'm as alright as I can be and I trust you, whatever you think it's best for me, I'll do it."

"I'm sorry I got you sick."

"Don't blame yourself, you heard Peter, my immune system is on vacation. I don't know why, though."

"We don't know either, but we'll find out. As soon as you're feeling better, we can't examine it much further while you're ill."

"See? Don't blame yourself for it, it could've happened with any other virus or bacteria, at least you know this one."

Regulus' breath hitches, but someone knocks at the door and he gets up quickly, wiping his eyes with fists. "Isn't your back hurting? Do you want to use the bathroom?"

"I'm fine, Reg, tell them to come in."

He opens the door and his parents rush to his bed. Normally, they would never ignore Regulus, but apparently the news had been spread, they know.

"Oh, Jimmy, Regulus called us, but he said you ask us not to come. You shouldn't have said that, we worry about you."

"What if I had gotten you sick? I'm young, dad, you're not. Not anymore."

He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter, you'll always be our priority."

"Thank you for respecting my wishes."

"We would never disrespect you, honey," his mom says while caressing his hair. "It doesn't matter how painful it it, we'll never disrespect you. But you scared us so much, Jimmy, please don't do that again."

"Lily said you helped."

"Maybe with selfish intents, I know there aren't potions to heal you the way muggle medicine does, but there is one that makes you not contagious anymore, and I needed to see you, honey. We needed to see you."

"I'm alright. I feel awful, but I'm alright. I'll make you dinner once I'm better."

"We'll leave you to rest, but please keep us updated."

"I will. Thank you for coming, I love you."

"We love you, son."

James looks at Regulus after they leave. "Thank you for not letting them come."

"I'd never endanger them. If there was any chance of contagion, I wouldn't have let them near you."

"I know, I trust you."

"Rest now, love, you need it."

"Who else is here?"

"Remus and Sirius, I think Lily left, Peter's still here, Barty and Dorcas are here, Marlene and Mary couldn't leave work and will come tomorrow, Pandora and Evan are at the hospital, but they'll be here soon."

"Why so many people?"

"Because you're loved and everyone is worried. I can ask then to leave and they'll come back when you're feeling better."

"It's alright, they can stay if they want."

Sirius and Remus knock at the door and enter the room.

"Hope you two are decent," Sirius says laughing. "Can we come in?"

"Of course, just please don't speak so loudly, my head hurts and I'm itchy."

"Itchy like do you need to sneeze or like you feel when you're overwhelmed with sensory overload?"

"Both, but I meant the sensory overload."

"Oh," Regulus cries. "Why didn't you say something? I can cast silencing spells."

"Didn't cross my mind, things are still a bit weird."

"Weird how?"

He doesn't want to speak anything, it feels like it'd be too tiring.

"How weird, James?"

"heh'tTSHH sdrrk hAH'TISHH AH'ISHH sdrrk"

"Oh, bloody hell, why is he sneezing like that?" Remus asks to no one in particular. "James never sneezes like that."

"Reg," Sirius continues. "Why is James sneezing like that?"

"This is one of the worst cases of the flu I have ever seen and he's full of fever. It's better this way, stifling like he does isn't healthy."

"I know it isn't, but..." Remus sighs and looks at James. "You're feeling awful, aren't you?"

He nods.

"Can you describe the weirdness you're feeling, love?" He shakes his head. "James, I need you to say something so I know you're not delirious like you were before."

He is not delirious, just overwhelmed.

"I know you find speaking hard sometimes, I do. But it's really important."

"Overwhelmed. Name's James Potter."

"Can you tell me something else? What was your favourite subject at school?"

"Transfiguration," he sighs. "Can I stop now?"

"You can, I think we'll let you rest a bit more, call us if something happens, alright? I'll be in the living room."

He closes his eyes, feeling like he has been run over by a train.

.

He wakes up without knowing what day it is, he had slept and woken up too many times and it messed up his perception of time.

He's feeling feverish again, but Reg isn't there. He must be tired, taking care of James like that is draining. James is draining. He wishes he wasn't a burden to his husband.

Maybe he should get up and shower, surely it won't hurt, he must be stinking, nobody will want to come near him.

He manages to take two steps before thinking bad idea. The world starts spinning because of course he wouldn't be able to walk on his own.

He's fucking pathetic.

.

Well, it had been, indeed, a bad idea because, apparently, he had collapsed.

"Darling, why didn't you ask for help?"

He shrugs, he doesn't want to burden Reg any further, he's already done it enough. It is a bit frustrating, really, he is feeling like a piece of shite. Useless, stinky and annoying.

"James, honey, answer me."

His eyes start to water and he shakes his head. Merlin, he's pathetic.

"Oh, James," he says in a soft voice. "Don't cry, honey, please. Don't cry. Why are you crying?"

Regulus sits down and starts caressing his hair when he doesn't answer. "Alright, your fever's back, time to take another medication. Is your brain feeling fuzzy again?" He nods. "Got it, I'll be right back."

He starts crying even more when Regulus leaves. He's utterly and completely useless, he's going to end up killing his boyfr– husband. He's going to end up killing his husband from exhaustion. Regulus will probably collapse and die from fatigue because James is too tiring.

"Oh God," Reg cries. "Hush now, James. Everything is alright, you're alright, nothing bad will happen."

"You don't have to stay."

Regulus tenses. "Do you want me to leave?" He doesn't, but he nods anyway, because Reggie needs a time from him, he needs a time for himself. He doesn't seem happy with the answer, but hurt. He nods back at James. "I'll put the medication and leave you alone."

"You should leave now."

Right, maybe it wasn't the most intelligent move, now not only is he feeling like shite, he is feeling lonely, cold and even more guilty for saying that.

He closes his eyes again, opening them with the sound of the door opening violently.

"What is wrong with you?" Remus asks harshly. "Merlin, James, are you daft? Asking Reg to leave you? Hurting his feelings? Worrying all of us? Jeopardising your recovery? Endangering your life? Just because of what? Do you think you're helping anyone by doing that?"

His breath hitches and he turns to lay on his side, his back is killing him from all that time laying down in the same position.

"Oh, James," his voice softens. "How many times will we have to tell you you're not a burden? Trust me, I know the feeling, but you're self-sabotaging and it's literally going to get you killed." He feels Remus stroking his hair. "You know that Regulus is too respectful. So respectful that he was willing to ask me, evem though I quit being a doctor last year, to put those things back in your veins just because he can't leave you without medication and you don't want him here." He opens his mouth, but Remus continues. "But you do want him here, don't you?"

He nods. "He needs rest."

"He won't be able to rest if he doesn't know you're well," he says with a sad smile. "Close your eyes, I'll explain everything to him."

.

The next time he wakes up, Regulus was laying on his side of the bed, holding James' left arm with his life. There are tubes on his right hand and the crook of his elbow, he's really uncomfortable and he really needs to pee. But he won't be able to leave the bed on his own. Merlin, he still doesn't feel better, he feels feverish and dizzy and tired, his chest is hurting and his nose is still blocked, but running constantly, there is a pool of snot on his pillow.

He's disgusting.

The hand towel he was using to sneeze on isn't in sight, which is another problem, his nose is burning and itching and he really needs to sneeze.

He didn't have time to think before releasing five giant sneezes in his pillow. It's totally ruined. Great. Why is he like that? He's useless, he's disgusting.

"Oh, honey, God bless you," Regulus cooes. He had woken him up, he didn't want to wake him up, but he did. "I'll be right back, don't move."

"You don't have to," he mumbles with his face still buried in the pillow, afraid to worsen everything and make more of a mess. "Reg, you really don't have to, I'm fine."

He doesn't think he sounded convincing, his voice is stuffy and muffled. Regulus leaves anyway.

"Here you go," he says while showing him a box of tissues. "Now lift your head so I can clean you up."

He shakes his head, he's not a baby. Not even toddlers need to be cleaned up, he shouldn't need to either.

"James, lift your head, we'll get you cleaned up and I'll scourgify our bed."

He really doesn't want to, but he'll always do anything Regulus asks him to.

"I can't."

And because James is the luckiest person alive and found the most perfect person alive to marry, Regulus helps him get up.

"Do you need to use the toilet?"

"I'd like to, and then take a shower."

"We'll compromise on a bath, what do you think?"

He shrugs, trying to leave the bed on his own. It's still a bad idea, though, he isn't strong enough for it, which is frustrating. He just wants to feel alright again.

"Come on," Regulus takes his hand. "I'll help you."

"You don't hahh HAH'TSHH HEH'SHGGD HAH'ISSHEW sndrkk sorry."

"Don't apologise for sneezing, James, you're sick, you have the one of the worst cases of flu that I've ever seen. People sneeze when they have the flu."

"But I'll get you sick."

"You won't, remember? Your mom gave you a potion that stopped you from being contagious."

"They came? You promised me you wouldn't let them come."

"Don't you remember? What's the last thing you remember?"

"I don't know, it's all fuzzy. Pete was here, Lily too, they helped me. Moony and Sirius came too, didn't they?"

"They're in the living room."

"What time is it?"

"Half past four, they're asleep now."

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I'm glad you did, now come on, let's get you cleaned up, a warm bath will do you good."

"Aren't you tired? You need to rest too, Reg."

"I know what I can or can't take, James."

"I told Moony the same thing the other night."

Regulus freezes in place, his face blank. "James, love," he says in a soft and caring way, like he's pitying James. "I should have known better than letting you go with them that night."

"We would have probably fought if you had tried to forbid me from going," he takes off his clothes, his whole body starting to shiver, and gets in the bathtub. "And I wasn't feeling so bad then, truly."

"I just think... I don't know, I should have known you weren't well, I shouldn't have gone to work."

James shakes his head. "Don't blame yourself, how would you know? It sounded like a mild cold."

"I don't know, I just wish I could have done more to help, if I had noticed it sooner, you wouldn't have gotten dehydrated to the point of being delirious."

"You couldn't have known, Reggie, you can't see the future, you didn't even take divination in Hogwarts."

"You're still my husband and I should have paid more attention to you. I'm a bloody doctor, I should have noticed."

"Being my husband doesn't maah snff make you able toh heh heh'tshhh huh'ishhh HEH'ISHH snff Merlin," he sniffles and sighs. "Bei'g mby husba'd sdrrrk hih'tshh snffff doesn't make you able to read my mind. It doesn't make you a lehh heh'ISHH snff a legilimens."

"Oh, James, is your nose bothering you?" Regulus seems to be mocking him, is he mocking him? Maybe he doesn't love him anymore, James is a nuisance. A bloody liability. Regulus puts a folded piece of toilet paper over James' nose. "Come on, blow your nose. It'll help you, I promise."

See? James is a liability. A very sick one, he's violently shivering and his nose is running, maybe that's why Reg asked him to blow it, he's disgusting.

He does blow his nose, though, because he'll do any and everything Regulus asks him to. Regulus has him at the palm of his hand, really. Oh, he's ridiculously in love with him.

He hears Regulus chuckling. "I'm ridiculously in love with you too."

James blushes. "I didn't say anything, did I?"

"What do you mean? Of course you did, you've just said that," he says in a rush. "James, tell me you remember saying that."

"I remember thinking that."

"Oh, no," he cries. "No, no, no. No. It's fine. You're fine. Deep breaths, slow and deep breaths. We're fine, everything is fine. You're fine. You're fine, aren't you?"

"Reg, you're scaring me." He has to do something, doesn't he? He should know how to help. He does know how to help, but he can't access this bloody part of his brain. He's feeling weird again. His brain is weird.

Reg had told him he felt confused before because he was dehydrated, so maybe he should drink water.

"James, what are you doing?!" He hears Regulus screaming and stops, freezing in place, his hands cupped, trying to take the water to his mouth.

"You're going to have a panic attack. I'm feeling woozy. So I'm drinking water so I can help you."

Regulus shakes his head, his eyes wide and unfocused. "I'll get you some water, alright? Don't drink your bath's water."

He doesn't really know how to answer. He needs to feel alright quickly so he can help Reg. He has to help Reg.

"Here you go, love, do you need help?"

"'m alright," he assures him, "you don't have to worry."

"Do you need help, James?"

"I'm alright, really, just give it to me."

"James, love, I can't understand what you're saying."

"What do you mean you can't understand me?"

"Don't move. Don't you fucking dare to do anything but breathe until I'm back here. You can understand me, right? I hope you do. Please don't move."

"You're scared. Don't be scared, I'm alright."

"Don't move, James."

He doesn't.

Regulus leaves the bathroom and doesn't come back for some time, he can't tell how long, but he's feeling colder than before, his whole body shivering and his teeth shattering.

As soon as he comes back, he grabs his wand to do something, then his face shifts from a bit scared to a full panic. No, Reg, there's no need to be afraid, everything is fine.

Strangely, he can't feel his mouth moving, he thinks it didn't.

"This is bad," he whispers to him. "James, love, you're really really sick right now. I need you to get up so we can take you back to bed. I'll dry you with a spell so you don't feel colder than you already are."

He doesn't have the strength to get up and Regulus can't lift him on his own. he'll have to stay there. He's not feeling so bad, is he? "huh'tshh hah'tishh hah'ishh" Alright, something's off. He tries to lift his arm to rub his nose (Merlin, it's itching), but it isn't obeying his brain. And sneezing is so tiring, why is sneezing so tiring?

"Oh, love," Regulus cooes while cleaning his nose for him. That's a bit embarrassing. "You must be feeling awful."

I'm alright.

"I'll ask Sirius for help, alright? They'll help

[pbandjesse]

Today was a quiet day. and I was exhausted. I am so glad that I did not have anywhere to be or anything to do because I was not able to do it. I was barely able to eat. I was not having a very good time.

I think even though yesterday was just sitting in a car it just drained me. We got home after stopping at the museum for James bike and then to get chipotle. I would get Sweetp inside while James brought stuff in. Once Sweetp was settled and happy, I would go and check on the tanks. I think the vacation feeder did work so that was good. But I would put more water in the tanks and feed everyone. I was glad to see everyone seemed to be doing pretty well.

I had to sit down and eat something. James would continue to run around and wanted to finish putting things away before they had their dinner. Different styles but that's okay.

I would pack up my leftovers for lunch and finish putting away everything I could. I was able to reassess my gifts and felt very happy with many of them and it made me feel a little better after being so sad at Christmas. I was just overly emotional I think. Building it up when it would never live up to that.

I took a shower and washed my hair and felt a lot better. James would get in bed and sleep a lot earlier then me but when I was ready to go to sleep they got up and fixed up our blankets. But we were both asleep pretty fast.

When I woke up I was so miserable and tired. James was doing laundry and being their productive self. Which made me feel a little guilty but they told me to rest. They said they were going to leave soon and I was like. Why. You don't have to be in for hours?? It's an extended hours day so they can stay home with me a bit. I convinced them to wait a little longer and take the car so they wouldn't get wet. It was a very rainy day.

But when I was up finally I felt horrible mentally. I was so on edge and everything was annoying. This was not how I wanted to be. I don't know what was making me unhappy, but I am mostly positive it was because I was tired. Just miserably tired. James came and sat next to me while I was putting on my rings and I told them how I was annoyed at them only because they were there not be sure they did anything. And they said well they don't mind but they are leaving so the problem will be solved. This did not solve the problem. I wanted the. To be there but I also wanted them to not be there. I was struggling.

James would make me a sandwich. Our stove and oven are both still off. And our soda stream was out of air. I was sad when James left. But I thought maybe the food would make me feel better.

But I couldn't shake it. I couldn't do anything. I thought about cleaning. I thought about reading. I thought about many things.

I would end up making some outfits for the week. And then I laid in bed. I was cold, I was tired. Everything was pointless.

I texted with Jess and she wasn't doing much better. She would go to IKEA with her mom. And she wanted to go to thrift stores. I did too. So I suggested we meet half way tomorrow and go to thrifts together. It made me feel really excited and like I had something to look forward too.

So after talking to her about recovery days from vacation, a vacation from vacation, I decided that today was just that. Today was a day to just try to feel better.

I would fall asleep. And slept basically all afternoon. And when I woke up at 330 I felt a little gross and woozy. But I would slowly start feeling better. More human. I had a cookie and texted James. They decided to stop at target before they would come home tonight. But that was hours to go.

I would spend the evening hanging out with sweetp. Watching videos. I made microwave Mac and cheese and it exploded and got cheese sauce everywhere. I had to clean that up. I was thrilled to hear from our insurance man that the insurance company is moving forward with our home owners insurance after so worry about them not wanting to cover up. I had been a little worried but it worked out.

I took a long bath. Watched a video. Lit a new candle. Finally started to feel more settled mentally.

I would work to fix a bracelet I wanted to add to my stack. I was able to resize the ring James got me for Christmas and it's much more comfortable now. I don't usually love prong settings because I scratch myself with them but I love this one and I am very happy with it. Love my husband for getting it for me.

Now I am waiting for them to come home. They just left the target and should be here soon. I am looking forward to having them here.

And tomorrow I will get to hang out with Jess and I'm very excited about that. I hope it's a fun day and I feel a lot better. I hope you all have a great night and feel great. Sleep well my friends I love you all.

[caffeinatedopossum]

Ayy thought spiral with me (tw ocd vent/existential crisis?)

I don't think people understand what I'm referring to being hopeless when I say "it's hopeless". I'm not talking about my depression. I'm not even talking about my chronic pain or my trauma. I'm talking about what I call my existential ocd- "there is no way out but through" simply doesn't apply here.

There is no way out but *out*. And no one can show me the way. So I keep going through, down this tunnel, into this maze. I go deeper and deeper searching for something I'm quite aware I will never find but am compelled to chase, as if by some other worldly force. But I'm told the force is generated from within. Everyday of my life, I've walked this path and no other. Thats not an exaggeration- every day since I learned how to form thought I have been *obsessed* with figuring things out. It's who I am. It's what I care about.

I describe different kinds of emotional pain differently- mental illness is, as its name implies, an illness. It might go away forever with treatment or be chronic and need to be managed long term, but it can usually be managed. Trauma is a wound, one that often leaves permanent scars but can heal nonetheless. Grief is amputation, it's simply a loss with no replacement, but life can grow around that and become fuller in time. But this... this is something else. Something I struggle to put into words. It's me. It's the self, dissolving under the weight of uncertainty and compulsion, unable to exist in a normal way.

People will probably say "you shouldn't identify yourself with it then" but you don't understand. Where are the people who are like me or who were but then changed? Show me one, thats a genuine request. I'm irrevocably seperate from everyone who hasn't traveled this path and I haven't met or heard of anyone who has traveled it before me. And if there is someone who traveled it, did they get out? Or would I simply follow them round and around, deeper into this spiral... The "end goal" for me cannot ever be the same end goal that anyone different from me has achieved. That's why other people succeeding gives me no hope (or jealousy). There is not a person who has ever fully comprehended the absurdity and complexity- and what I'm beginning to believe is probably rarity- of my situation.

And no- I don't want to think of myself as different. I don't want to be special. If anything negative about me is rare, then its pathological, and if anything positive about me is rare, then it's crushingly disappointing to think that others are not even as good as I am. Yes, I'm seeing things unusually negatively. And being unusually critical. But- and I say this devoid of all pride- I'm an unusual person.

Its something that goes beyond loneliness. It's the ache of innate separation, due to the responsibility of awareness, the compulsive nature I can't discard, and so many more things. I am reaching out but no one can reach back, no one can do anything to reach me here. And I don't think I'd want them to if they could. Because then they would be here too. With me, yes, but *here*. In this death before death. I'm thinking it's better to be separate, to be misunderstood, than to be assured that this is real, that I'm not simply being overly dramatic or deluding myself into some kind of waking nightmare.

This might be more a prayer than a cry for help but please- if there is anyone out there who's been where I am, and who could, through some repplicable feat, manage to get out... please let me reach you. I am so tired.

[iwilltransyourgender]

Rant time.

Okay, look, we all know Viva Las Vengeance is a whole…. something that isn’t quite Panic! At The Disco, nor is it anything particularly amazing either because Brendon can’t write for shit, but I think one aspect in which we can cut it some slack is the beautiful musical disaster that is:

Sad Clown

What could possibly be the saving grace for this astronomical fuckup of a song?

Well, you’re absolutely right in that it is an underwhelming absolute lack of an orgasm after chafing your genitals for a fucking hour, but dear god, in a way, doesn’t that make SENSE? Look, we know Brendon Urine didn’t do it on purpose at all cuz, you know, he’s a dumb cunt and not a 5’1 autistic man hoarding literature degrees like a useless dragon hoards gloves for hands it doesn’t have. But if he HAD done it on purpose, Sad Clown could have been recognised as a satisfyingly UNsatisfying metaphor for, well, unsatisfying…ness.

Consider:

"I pop a pill to feel euphoria. Five minutes, ten minutes, to a half an hour, But not the rest of my life."

And

"Even though I'm smiling, I'm crying. I'm sick and tired of trying, I'm dying. Is this all there is?"

In a badly done, even babygirlification somewhat, of the Hey Ya theme of sad lyrics on a preppy dance tune (and look, I never said the lyrics were good), we can extrapolate the story being told here; ex-lovers, one, Maggie presumably, has moved on quite happily whereas our protagonist has not, though he puts on a front of happiness and copes with drugs, and while the drugs may give him a temporary relief, he knows that he cannot rely on this permanently.

How does this make a shit song a good song?

In an overly analysed close-reading of the music, which I am absolutely qualified to do because I took music theory class for one year in highschool and I'm a man on the internet, I can conclude that this song just doesn't have a chorus? Sure, Urine tried, but if you actually ignore the urge to do a dancey dance and listen for like two secs, you'll realise that the "chorus" is just a whole lotta buildup with no payoff. Bridges, no chorus. Chafing, no orgasm, whatever fucking analogy you wanna roll with. We literally get like three bridges in a row:

"Five minutes, ten minutes, to a half an hour For the rest of my life."

I call this the pre-bridge. It's different to the verse, and we get a sense of "change is coming" in the dropping of the notes towards the end of the bar, and even the general softer, more emotive tone in Urine's voice in "For the rest of my life," however this isn't yet a bridge in the same way most of us would recognise one.

"Leave me alone (a paliacciao triste) Leave me alone (he not so molto bene)."

Bridge 1: Huge musical buildup in the drum, the dropout of other instruments (again, a common indication of "get ready, it's coming!") and the inclusion of the backup singers singing the goofiest fucking shit I've ever read in my life.

"Your majesty's magnificent. My tragedy is imminent. Even though I'm smiling, I'm crying, I shall win."

Bridge 2: Oh, another bridge? I mean, it COULD have been a chorus, but its that last line where we get basically exactly the same musicality of the first bridge, but louder, and man I'm on the edge of my seat. I'm waiting for the climax, I'm rearing to fucking GO.

guitar riff

Oh.

That was it?

That was...

Well, I didn't come that's for sure.

Where the fuck is the chorus, Urine? Because I sure as shit didn't hear one! I feel like I'm back four years in time with my ex who had the weakest dick game I've ever seen in someone without erectile dysfuction.

And then that ending too. He screeches that last note (and this is the only comment I'll make on Urine's actual singing capabilities because that's a whole other rant for another day) and then everything just... dies. And not even in a satisfactory way. No fade out, no sharp sudden stop; it gives the vibe of the orchestra awkwardly realising the conductor's stopped and is glaring at the trombones.

It is unsatisfying

BUT IT FUCKING WORKS.

AND I'M SO MAD THAT IT WORKS.

Literally an entire song about dissatisfaction, faking pleasure/happiness, relying on temporary highs that ultimately never amount to anything, AND IT IS MOST UN-FUCKING-SATISFYING SHIT I'VE EVER LISTENED TO.

WHY

[wutheringheightsfilm]

right back atcha wei wuxian!!!! and hm! jiang yanli!!

YAYYY

wei wuxian

My first impression:

he's everything to me

My impression now:

HE'S STILL EVERYTHING TO ME!! protagonist of all time

Favorite thing about that character:

i love his confidence, his righteousness, his intelligence!!! he literally is so fucking smart and i just really love how he saw the way cultivation society functioned, how it was designed to uplift him only when he served them, and decided to say fuck all that i'm going to do the right thing and did it. ugh

Least favorite thing:

nothing but my least favorite thing about how a lot of fans write him is that they will write him as being overly insecure when in canon he honestly isn't. is he repressing his emotions? sure. does he have a bit of a self sacrificing complex? yes. but is he insecure about himself to the point of thinking he never deserves any love ever? no. like i don't mind this per se it just gets very tiring when fic after fic stylizes wei wuxian this way AND it's usually coupled with making him extremely immature. it just gets so tired

Favorite line/scene:

IT HAS TO BE THE SIEGE.... HOW CHEAP YOUR ADMIRATION WAS!!!

Favorite interaction that character has with another:

of course the "who do you take me for?" "i once thought of you as my zhiji" "i still am" is the most iconic scene of anything forever. but i also really love the one scene where wei wuxian is sitting on the steps and wen qing sits next to him... it's so good

A character that I wish that character would interact with more:

MIANMIAN... i really do think they would be bestie boos if mxtx didn't hate women

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character:

in my mind i have a very specific web weaving post that i have yet to actually make online that web weaves heathcliff from wuthering heights and wei wuxian together. don't worry it all makes sense TO ME

A headcanon about that character:

even outside of cql and the fact xiao zhan is a singer, i think wei wuxian sings to himself like, all the time. i think he's always making noise. he's either singing or talking to himself like, all the time. it helps him think

A song that reminds of that character:

so so many but i'll narrow it down to just one. mercury by sleeping at last

An unpopular opinion about that character:

this wouldve gotten me guillotined back in the day before cql aired but i am team wei wuxian and lan wangji are the same height forever and ever. i also think they're both vers and now THAT'S unpopular

Favorite picture:

i currently have this as a widget on my phone...

OKAYYY jiang yanli time!!!

My first impression:

omg she's so sweet i love her

My impression now:

omg she's just like me fr

Favorite thing about that character:

HER PATIENCE. if i was her i would've blown up lotus pier by age 18 to be quite honest

Least favorite thing:

the fact that mxtx fridged her so hard it's insane. i guess it's thematically relevant to the story that she dies but i refuse to accept that tbh. also when fans in the fandom insist that jiang yanli can't be sect leader because that's "girlbossifying her" wait til they find out she doesn't have to 1) fight violently to be a sect leader and it doesn't mean she has to change her entire personality to do it and 2) chronically ill characters can still hold leadership positions isn't that crazy.

Favorite line/scene:

oh definitely her confronting jin zixun at the golden banquet like she was legenderic for that

Favorite interaction that character has with another:

any time her and wei wuxian interact with each other is the best thing on planet earth idgaf. also that one singular conversation she had with lan wangji... in my mind i've spun it into jyl and lwj being best friends and i hate to see that isn't canon

A character that I wish that character would interact with more:

literally any other woman. also in my fic i have her, nmj, and lxc being friends and i wish that was canon too

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character:

hmm this is hard...she sort of reminds me of fuuka yamagishi from persona 3 !

A headcanon about that character:

my most famous headcanon that spurred me to write a fic about it is that she only became so good at cooking in order to avoid arguments with her parents

A song that reminds of that character:

everything's alright from jesus christ superstar but specifically the sara bareilles version

An unpopular opinion about that character:

i feel like very few people in the fandom actually understand her. like yes she's chronically ill and sensitive and quiet but that doesn't mean she can't do things like hold leadership positions or stand up for herself. everyone seems to think that just because mxtx wrote her with the women belong in the kitchen vibe that means everyone needs to take that word as law and never have her be an active participant in her own life. it's very tiring and very fucking annoying.

Favorite picture:

i love her in this scene so so so much!

THANK U FOR ASKING MY BELOVED LIEUTENANT!!!