#like even after i was able to eat and sleep and function normally without the tremors and head jerks and whatnot

[girl-bateman]

Feeling a debilitating sense of dread and despair 🤨 Which probably means nothing😍👍

[shanksxbuggy]

PLSOLSPLSSS share more of ur shuggy headcanons the last one was so good that it has been my lil entertainment in the head cuz i cant write for shitttt

Ask and you shall receive c: I didn’t know if my headcanons would be very interesting, so I’m glad to hear you enjoy it.

I started this out thinking hmm do I even have any more headcanons, but now I’ve written all this…

Sometimes I imagine them as cis, but sometimes I like to headcanon them as trans. Shanks as a transman, Buggy as nonbinary or trans or genderfluid or like a drag queen. However they are, they’re hanging with Ivankov and the rest of queer community because they just fit there.

Buggy used to be insecure about his hair and hid it under a beanie. He used to want a more ‘normal’ hair color like the other crewmembers.

Shanks is the better liar when he wants to be. He doesn’t lie as often, but he’s better at controlling and hiding his emotions.

Buggy first became interested in the circus by seeing street performers as a kid, and somehow felt the circus lights calling out to him. His heart longs for the stage, to be at the center of attention before a huge crowd. But he also hates being made fun of and isn’t very good at dealing with criticism. He became inspired to include circus techniques and magician’s tricks in his fighting style, light and airy and impossible to predict.

Buggy didn’t come up with being called the clown, the Marines did. He just begrudgingly went with it.

Shanks is a lot more touchy-feely. He likes casually having an arm around Buggy, having their thighs touching, resting his head on his shoulder. Buggy is generally fine with it in front of people he knows, but he’s not one for overly public displays of affection. He has a reputation to uphold.

After Buggy got his powers, whenever he used to get annoyed or mad at Shanks, he’d detach his body and float away where Shanks couldn’t reach him.

Buggy knows sign language, because it’s useful for subtle communication and even better when you’re someone who can detach their hands.

Shanks used to show his affection by teasing Buggy a lot, who’d take it the wrong way and thought Shanks was just being an ass for no reason to Buggy. It’s classic pigtail-pulling behavior.

Buggy was real upset about not being able to swim anymore, so Shanks promised to take Buggy out into the water whenever he felt like it, so he could experience the seas without fear of drowning.

One of Shanks’ favorite foods is lobster, which is hard for him to eat unless someone cracks open the shell for him. Buggy is always the one who unshells it for him.

Shanks is a morning person, Buggy is more of a night owl who consumes multiple cups of coffee to function.

Shanks doesn’t like sleeping by himself so he shares sleeping quarters with the crew. After Elegia, he started getting nightmares more frequently. Sleeping with a room full of people he can trust helps put him at ease.

When Shanks can’t sleep, he’ll drink a lot of alcohol until he just knocks himself out.

Same as Luffy, Buggy also has the special ability to turn people into allies, just in a slightly different way.

All the Red-Haired Pirates already know about Buggy because of Shanks’ tendency to ramble while he’s drunk. At first they expected Buggy to be this exotic beauty, they were shocked when they found out the love of Shanks’ life was a literal clown. But then again, Shanks always had…questionable tastes, so they should have expected it.

Shanks really loves Buggy’s red lipstick. He especially loves it when Buggy leaves red lipstick marks on his clothes and skin. Buggy does it as a way of staking his claim.

Despite his good looks, Shanks is bad at posing for photos. He’s not the type to try and utilize his looks, so he’s more awkward in photos than in real life. Buggy is the one who knows how to work the camera and loves showing off in front of it.

Shanks definitely isn’t the type to whine or complain about pointless things…except he will with Buggy, just as a way to get his attention or be pampered. Shanks turns into a big, immature baby around Buggy, but it’s because he feels comfortable enough to do so.

Shanks likes summer islands, Buggy prefers winter islands (his nose gets sunburned easily lol)

They used to swap clothes a lot when they were kids. As adults they don’t do it that much anymore, but when they do, usually it’s Buggy stealing Shanks’ things.

Shanks wears the same damn outfit all the time unless someone forces him into something else (usually it’s Buggy who does). Shanks also sleeps naked or just in his underwear most of the time.

Buggy trains Uta in the circus trade and teaches her tricks so she can include them in her performances. The Buggy Pirates and Uta do collaborations on the stage. It’s like an idol concert meets Cirque du Soleil and the result is mind-blowing. Shanks is not talented enough in that area to be an entertainer, but he is their biggest fan.

[deepdonutkid]

Matching wounds

Pair: Katniss Everdeen x Peeta Mellark (forever everlark)

Requested: none

Warnings: ptsd, nightmares, needles, tattoos, thought of self-harm

Summary:  During the Victory Tour, she is more than just temped to seek Peeta’s comfort once more. Yesterday, she asked him to stay with her and he did. She doesn’t want to keep bothering him again with her horrors, because she knows, he would do it without batting an eye and she already feels guilty using him like that. But after one terrifying nightmare, her longing surpasses her conscience. Just when she sneaks to his train compartment, she is witnessing his very own pain.

A/N:

This is my first THG fic, please be gentle with me, I’m still unsure, how to portrait the characters. It’s not beta read!

it’s absolutely innocent but doesn’t feel like… Somehow it came out more sexual than I had imagined, but the analogy was right there

The fic takes place in CF after Katniss had the nightmare on the Victory Tour and Peeta helped her with it. I kept it mostly canon compliant, but u know… she felt guilty for sharing a bed with Peeta and I thought, well she would have been a little more resistant at first.

Also I have this headcanon, Peeta loves all kinds of art. Painting, drawing, body art, architecture… stuff like that

gif from @everlarking-always​

By now I should be used to wake up sweaty, shaky and screaming, but I wasn’t. After all those years, one would come to think, it got easier, how wonderfully wrong one could be. I couldn’t handle this on my own accord and it was noticeable. Cinna, my styling team and finally Effie were giving me concerned looks.

The issue was handled Capitol Style. Effie shoved a pillbox in my direction, told me how much to take and send me off to sleep. Normally, I would trust medicine. It helped me a lot in the arena, the remedy for my physical pain. The burns, the cut, the stings, all of this went away with a cream or a plant or something else.

But when I had the first pill in my hand and rolled it around with my fingers, doubts were sneaking in. The bright pink pearl felt heavy, almost like a burden. Then I wondered, if I should lay my internal pain into the Capitol’s hands. Should I really do it their way? Just numb the symptoms instead of treating the cause.

Well, unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury to think about this further. I had to function tomorrow. Hold a speech and smile for the camera. Look happy, act happy, but don’t actually be happy. Snow had me right there were he wanted me to. By holding hostage of my loved ones, he ensured, I would do anything he wanted me to. Even if it was against my very own belief.

And I was better at following orders, when I got a decent amount of sleep. It was really sad in a way, I’m not able to describe, but that was harder to swallow than that pill Effie gave me.

Of course, it didn’t help. Maybe that’s why I was so conscious about it in the first place. Or maybe I was just lacking the faith for things to get better in order to be better.

Just yesterday, I finally found relief. When I got up in the morning, was looking fresh and almost healthy. The dark circles under my eyes were gone and I was able to read my speech without any mistakes. However, on the inside I was still itching. Something bothered me and I couldn’t point it out until dinner.

My remedy smiled at me across the table, asking me, if I was enjoying my food. Something about the way he looked at me, made me uncomfortable. At first, I misplaced it as the usual amount of awkwardness between us, whenever he exuded his undying love for me, but I was wrong.

It was worse. Guilt was eating me alive. Nibbling on my soul. Then, it hit me. I was doing him wrong once more. Yesterday had been a mistake. Again, I was feeding him false hope. Not sending him away, when he lay next to me, was like poking at his wounds. Maybe even more cruel. Sticking the knife right back in, after he started to get over it.

We were avoiding each other since we got home. Now, we were making some progress again, I blew that all over the place by being so… needy for comfort. Any comfort, no… his comfort. It had to be his. Nobody knew how to help me but him. I didn’t even need to tell him, he just the right thing without being asked to.

That’s why, I shouldn’t slither in old habits. He kept me warm during the Games, not more, not less. By staying with him, I would only hurt him. And I couldn’t see his heart breaking again. At the train tracks in the middle of nowhere, he left something behind, something that was good and pure.

“No”, I kept whispering to myself, while walking in circles in my room. I shouldn’t, but I wanted. And this pressing feeling in my chest was crushing me more with every syllable coming from my mouth. Really, I was forcing myself to stay, and I was losing that fight.

My urge to feel safe once more was stronger than any coherent thought that crossed my mind. So, I stumbled through the dark train in my pajama, searching for him. Every noise that late at night was scary and every light was burning my eyes.

It took me back to a time, where I was little and my father was still alive.  The house was so quiet and moonlight paved my way through the darkness. Then I would sneak into my parent’s bed. My father would grown and my mother sigh, but they took me in nevertheless. It was a bit cramped up there, with all of us in one bed. I never felt safer than.

Perhaps, I was longing to recreate that moment ever since.

Barefooted and brave, I was fighting the darkness. My steps echoed through the corridor, only being muffled once I reached the carpeted area before his compartment.

This need kept me going, even when doubts and worries tried to take me back. These thoughts were trying to bring me to reality, but failed. Only the sound of his muted pant could. Suddenly, I was very aware of my surroundings.

Before I knew, what I was doing, my hand was at the door knob and pulling it aside. The revelation was both, scaring and confusing at the same time. In the glimpse of a second, I had thought about every possible threat and I was ready to deal with any opponent.

However, nothing in my life had prepared me for this scene before my eyes. He was lying in bed, half-naked by the way, and was jabbing his leg with a thick needle. And even in this glim dose of light, I noticed how his fair skin was smeared with his own blood.

While I was still processing, what I just had witnessed, he was pulling the blanket over his leg.

“Katniss”, he hissed with worried eyes: “Why didn’t you knock?” He didn’t even seem surprised to see me in the middle of the night, but he was certainly concerned that I entered without making myself known first.

Well, I thought, he probably wanted to cover up himself. No… his mess. The things he did to himself and all the pain he has been going through since leaving the arena. I know, he must have been suffering just like I did. We had matching wounds… physically and mentally and while those on our bodies have washed away, the others would burden us for the rest of our lives.

But still, I couldn’t understand. Why would he hurt himself like this?  After the Games, after everything, why add more pain?

I walked over to him and pulled the blanket away. He was gripping it tight, but eventually gave in once I breathed: “Why?”

All the sudden, he was wrapping his arms around me. His hand was patting my back. Then I realized, I was crying. Tears were running down my cheeks. Once again, he was comforting my pain, swallowing his own.

“It’s nothing.”, he whispered against my hairline.

I sought this, but not like this. So, I shoved him away and snarled: “It’s not nothing!”

One second to the next, his eyes drew dark. He bit his lip and gulped, while avoiding my gaze.

After a while, he said: “Well, then it’s not like you think it is.”

“I know, what I saw, Peeta.”, I argued, crossing my hands before my chest: “You were hurting yourself. There was blood for fucks sake!”

Instead of answering, he just chuckled, which made me incredibly mad, and then he turned around to the lamp on his nightstand. The flash of light was filling the room and burning my eyes at the same time.

Once I got used to the brightness, I looked at him again. He was really just wearing his underwear. I turned on him.

Technically I had seen him with less, but this felt way more private then next to a river, while he was literally dying. This was intimate in a way I had not expected.

“Look at me!”, he insisted loud and instant, but I shuddered so hard, I heard him say pleading: “If you want to know the truth…”

I pushed the last doubts away and glared over my shoulder. Peeta was way too close to me. All those details I could see. Yes, all those scars were gone. Even Cato’s slash on the upper left leg, which I treated so frantically, was now perfectly normal skin. Maybe that’s why the black stain just above where the injury used to be stood out so much.

My hand was reducing the distance between us inch by inch. Finally, I placed my fingertips on his hip, felt his skin on mine. He let out a hiss, but didn’t move.

“Why is it black?”, I wondered, still looking at the wound. There was a darker line, which was even puffier than the rest.

Peeta blinked. Once, twice. Then he laughed again. I pulled my hand away, while he retorted: “It’s ink. I’m bored. I can’t sleep and the pain keeps me focused.”

Now I was the one to be lost in translation. “Katniss, it’s a tattoo.”, he chuckled: “It’s really not that bad. I swear, I wouldn’t do anything serious and leave you all by yourself.”

That was a lot to take in. I had a thousand questions, but I had to start somewhere. “What’s the idea? I mean… what are you trying to draw there?” My fingers are itching to touch him again. Somewhere in the depts of my mind, I still hear him panting.

He was suggesting me to sit down next to him. So, I did, even though I wasn’t as close to him, as I wished to be. “Don’t freak out, but…  it’s going to be an arrow.”, he confessed.

“Like my arrows?”

“Yes, like the one that saved me from bleeding to death.”

I frowned. Coming to think of it, all I did was trying to forget the Games, but he was putting a reminder of his worst moment there on his body. Like a constant warning. “Why?”

He took my hand and rubbed it with his thumb, which he had done before a million times, but only with cameras around. This was probably the first time he was showing me affection not meant for the public eye. His bright blue eyes were piercing me with a soft and tender look, when he spoke: “I want to appreciate surviving.”

How could he keep saying stuff like that? I couldn’t quite grasp it and started raising my eyebrows at him. Without any words from my part, he explained: “My immediate thought after Reaping was… I am not going to survive this. The only thing I could manage to do was to help you get out of the arena. And everybody else seemed to agree with me on that, whether it was my mother or Haymitch, Ceasar or even the Game makers. Except you.”

A gulp went down my throat. That was the very talk I feared. The next sweeping declaration of love was on his lips.

“I’m grateful to live, even with the tour, even with the uprisings, even with Snow threatening us and all the nightmares… because just months ago I was very convinced, I would be rotting in a grave right now. Somehow, I’m not. And sure, I wasn’t too excited, when you told me, what you did in the arena, but you still managed the unthinkable. By accident you proved all of them wrong, who said, the only thing I can do for you is die.

And when I thought of this, I realized what I had to do. As somewhat of an artist, I bleed ink and paint. So, I just grabbed a needle and started a while ago with two letters. K and E.”

At least he did not mention love, but he did put my initials on his body. I had no answer to all of this. There was just this big relief, he wasn’t hurting himself.

Peeta took a tissue and cleaned the spot on his hips with a bit of water. After a moment of silence, I fumbled for words to say: “It doesn’t look like the tattoos from the Capitol… I like it.”

“Yeah, didn’t you know, there are different styles of tattoos. Some of them are ancient.”, Peeta beamed: “I have a book about it back home. My friends gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday and I hid it under my bed most of the time, because I was afraid my mom would find out.” A nervous chuckle left his lips. “I only read it at night, but I always wanted a tattoo. Just not like the ones from Capitol.”

I didn’t know, he was so into that topic. Slowly, I began to relax, while an idea was forming in my head. “Can you give me one as well?”, I asked with a smile.

His eyes widened with surprise. “You want me to give a tattoo?”

“Yes, I think that’s what I said.”, I nodded.

“Which motive do you have in mind?”

Now I had to think. I was sure, he would try to stop me, but somehow, I really wanted to know, what it feels like. Having a reminder like this on your skin. But what I liked to be reminded of? Peeta chose his survival, maybe I should choose mine. Not from the arena of course, but the one, that made me who I am.

“Can you do a little loaf of bread?”, I wondered. A part of me was pleased with the idea, getting a tattoo similar to his. Just like our matching wounds. “And two letters… P and M.”

Suddenly he got up from the bed and walking around. Then he stopped, turning to me, he reassured himself: “You want this?”

“I do, Peeta”, I insisted: “Now hurry up, we don’t have much time left before sunrise.”

“Let me just…”, he mumbled, while running around in his compartment: “grab my utensils and we can start right away.”

Curiously I watched his movements. He was quick, but he sure knew what he was doing. “Where do you want to get it?”

The sound of low thinking left my lips. “Uhmm… I don’t know… nobody where my mother can see it… or Effie. I assumed you would to it on the same spot as yours. On the hip.”

Peeta cleaned his needle with alcohol and grinned goofily at me. “What?”

“You know you’ll have to undress yourself for that… procedure.”

Blood flushed my cheeks and I tried to hide it by looking away. “It’s no problem”, I said, like a liar and started peeling down my pajama pants.

Revealing my legs like that, made me squirm internally. On the outside, I played it down.

When he came back to the bed again, I opened my mouth to say something, but no words escaped. They were stolen from me. “Now lay down and try to relax.”, he demanded.

I tried to follow but while I was robbing over the sheets, my thighs got so warm. It was probably just the flurry. Once again, I gulped.

His hand reached my chin and was caressing it with such tender. “I promise it won’t hurt that much.”, he uttered: “I could never hurt you, not in a million years you know that.”

The sound of his voice ran shivers over my entire body. “No.”, I pleaded: “I’m ready.”

With the utmost care he hovered his hands over my chest, finally placing his fingers on my hip. A moan escaped my throat involuntarily.

He laid down between my legs. “Should it face you or me?” It was a weak attempt to calm me down, but it was helping me regaining my focus.

“Me”, I whimpered, mentally preparing myself of the pain to come. At first, I tried to look away, but then I was to curious, how it would look like. A needle entering my skin.

Heavy breaths shook my chest. Apparently so much, he noticed and glared up with a concerned expression. “We don’t have to do this, you know? Maybe you need time to think about this. It can’t be undone.”

I lift myself up a bit and protested: “No, I want to do this. I really do and there is no better time than now.” Every bit of me is possessed with the desire to understand him. His pain, especially. After all the things he did for me, I owe him at least that.

Peeta nodded firmly and lean back down. His underarm was resting on the inside of my thigh. Once the needle was soaked with ink, he put it in. There was somewhat of a resistance at first, but one the needle passed, it went right through. Since I was prepared, I didn’t flinch. My muscle tensed nevertheless.

There was this pain, not strong and overtaking like the tracker jacker stings, but exciting and new. It gave me goosebumps all over my body. So that was, what Peeta was feeling like. He covered it up, so nobody could see it.

But he showed it to me. Now we had a dark secret. One that only belonged to us and nobody else.

Bravely, I clung to the silk sheets of his bed as he proceeded. With every stich of the needle, I became more and more sure, this was what I wanted. What I needed. A companion in the darkness and who would be better than the boy with the bread, whose wounds matched mine.

After the tattoo was done, I was unable to move and fell asleep with Peeta next to me. He wrapped his hands around me and I felt safe once more. Once I stopped thinking about guilt and shame, it was ridiculously easy. This time I came to stay.

[furiousgoldfish]

I’ve managed to move out (staying with my extended family rn) and even though I made it out of that environment, I still have so much wrong with me. Anxiety, depression, ocd, ed’s. Anxiety being my worst issue. Just started college online this month and I still feel like I’m far from functioning normally again. I don’t want to use what I went through as an excuse though. It’s been about a year and I just want to be normal and socialize and not obsess over problems that aren’t even there. The idea of relying on anyone scares me and I’m trying to be as independent as when I was younger but how can I do that when everything sends me into a spiral. I quit my first job four days in even though everything was perfect. I couldn’t eat or sleep or think straight. Still have to retake my permit test. It’s been the definition of crippling but I know I could do better. And I’m trying. How can I just move on? I’m so sick of trauma being my entire identity. Does therapy really work? But I’m scared of taking meds because of my ed. I’m beyond lost.

P.s. Your blog has been incredibly helpful throughout all of this. One of the only times I’ve felt understood. Thank you <3

Unfortunately, it's the worst of trauma that we deal with after moving away. It's not an excuse, and you can't force yourself to be okay after just one year. What is happening with you is a proof that you've been put thru severe trauma and that it's not something you can quickly heal. I understand it's endlessly frustrating, devastating, and feels hopeless that you can't act normal, can't be completely independent and you feel awful relying on others - that does feel horrible.

I believe that what you need is more time, and more support. Even if right now you can't handle having a job, it doesn't mean it will be this way forever. Even if right now everything feels wrong, it won't stay that way forever. Recovery happens slowly and you have to accept it's own terms, and not push yourself so hard it brings you hopelessness when it doesn't work out. I think you need a space where you only do things you feel comfortable and safe doing, and then when you're able to relax, you can expand that space so that more things are comfortable and safe. When you're coming from that kind of space, you can gain stability and feel more confident, and also make a better risk assessment in what is currently okay for you to try, without falling into despair if it doesn't work out.

Also people quit jobs, mess up tests, have to retake permits, struggle with taking meds, even without severe trauma, and it's fairly common. You're only feeling such strong guilt and shame over it because the trauma amplifies your every negative experience into a disaster. It doesn't mean you're a failure, and it doesn't mean it will always be this way. Don't lose hope, give yourself more time and patience, with time you will manage to do everything right.

Also, give yourself lots of credit for escaping abusive environment! That is a big step that a lot of people struggle for a long time to take, and it's something you did, that is pretty incredible! You already are doing everything right, you're only human, and you can do only as much as a human being in your situation can. You're doing the best you can.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

ADHD meds, day three:

I took them as soon as I got up and ate a granola bar after. I immediately started work on animating and was able to fix 15 frames in 30 minutes.

So I ate way less than I thought I was going to for breakfast (not the granola bar; like breakfast breakfast)… which is good (I fucking guess) because impulsive eating is definitely a problem with me (I’m constantly bloated); but it kind of sucks because I like food and now even thinking about sweets is viscerally disgusting to me. :(

Whatever.

At around 10:00 AM I suddenly got sleepy and mildly dizzy. Towards noon, I started getting a mildly uncomfortable “ticklish” feeling at the crown of my head and the back of my neck, as well as racing thoughts. I wanted to plug my ears, clench my eyes shut, and curl up into a ball. Which is very odd because I was just sitting in the car, looking out the window, which is something I typically enjoy.

I guess I’ve felt slightly euphoric since day one… unless I’ve just been so emotionally numb until now that a normal “neutral” feels like euphoria to me??? Definitely some low-level bursts of anxiety throughout the day with no cause. I’ve been waking up much earlier, and wanting to immediately get out of bed; whether that’s because of the medication working, or because of the dry mouth, I have no idea. I now sleep with a water bottle; it is my lover. Ooh-la-la. I’m much more talkative and more able to speak.

I procrastinated about as much as I usually do yesterday; but I’m back on track today. I’m waiting on a phone line I need to make, which I did as soon as I got home. I feel hazy and unfocused at rest, but I was able to read something and retain the information without losing focus when I tried a little harder.

Like yeah I’m functioning but kinda icky feeling as the day goes on with weird dips in energy

[andromedaexists]

I've had a lot of friends reach out to me the past couple days and I just don't have the spoons to respond to all of y'all so I'm gonna say what I need to here:

I love you and appreciate you all. Your condolences and well wishes were received and mean a lot to me.

Now, for those who are not in the loop, I would like to take a moment to tell you about why I haven't been around for a hot minute despite really trying my best to be (under the cut, because good lord are there a lot of heavy topics on the table such as pet loss, depression, mental and physical health and the degradation thereof, stress and anxiety and more)

So, just in a brief bullet point recap, since about july of this years I have:

been switched onto a project at work that put increasingly more important responsibilities on my shoulders despite me saying that i never want to be in that position again

been switched back to my normal project in the middle of a hierarchy shift, therefore not knowing who to contact for literally anything (we're still working this out, btw)

started my final semester of college with 4 classes (reading & translating dead language #1, reading & translating dead language #2, novels in dead language #1, and the history of my native tongue that requires reading in the dead ancient form of it)

found myself being forced into monthly outings with my mother (a test in repairing our relationship that is going... okay)

somehow became integral in a discord (not upset, just not sure how i ended up here frfr)

being told on the first day of classes that i am having surgery ASAP on a cyst (we all know my history with cysts here.. it's not pretty)

the absolute atrocity that blue ridge ended up being. that was supposed to be my relax time, my time to unwind from everything else and i still have not recovered my loss of sleep from being up for 40 hours straight because of how horrible that weekend was

had my surgery cancelled because i'm too fat and then being ghosted by the doctor

had my heart absolutely demolished by a guy I thought I could love, only to be reminded that love is a luxury not afforded to people like me

broke up with my primary care physician because my health is degrading so fucking bad that i literally woke up feeling like i broke my wrist just because. and he still won't take me seriously. i can barely walk at this point, let alone stay awake and functioning longer than 4 hours at a time

had my employee review (that actually went well, but i did get my ass chewed out for low production)

had the world fall apart around me as any hope i had for humanity is shattered

release my book 3 days later because it was too late to change the release day by then

bury myself in a depression hole that i'm learning is normal for authors after their book releases

have to move my grandma into assisted living/memory care

have to immediately move myself out of my apartment with a weeks notice because the stress of living next to violent neighbors was finally getting to me (triggered my past with domestic violence) AND they started harassing me

had to undergo a medical procedure because i can't even eat food without my body rebelling

missed a month of classes because of depression

failed 2 latin tests in a row followed by bombing the midterm which was... great of my mental health especially considering i haven't received anything lower than a B or a C on an exam since ever (i was an honor roll/4.0/gifted studies kid)

Failed a History of the English Language exam because i cannot code switch between German, Latin, and English quickly enough (those are the 3 that comprise middle english btw)

a week after moving into my grandma's house I almost burned it down

found out that someone I really respected and looked up to as a friend was a Zionist

and finally: on Saturday I had to put down the cat I have owned for 15 years. She's undoubtedly older than that, but I was her owner for 15 years. She was my first ESA. I was able to tell my prof I wouldn't be in for the SECOND LATIN MIDTERM on monday because of it so now i have to take it tomorrow, but i couldn't get out of the greek exam or work. I asked for one (1) day off work and was told that my cat dying was not sufficient enough reason for the time off without using PTO (that i don't have because I used it on the absolutely horrible weekend that was Blue Ridge)

So yeah. I haven't been around. I've been more around on twitter but that's mostly me just reposting a bunch of posts about Palestine rn and other posts that my friends make. I'm so fucking exhausted and nauseous and just done. I haven't really written anything either because my work up until now has shown both the horrors of humanity and the underlying hope but I do not have that hope anymore and it hurts

Ironically since I've started working on Desecrate I've started wondering if this is my punishment for straying from God all those years ago. I don't think so but not I gotta add re-working through my religious trauma and my Catholic Guilt to my never ending list of things to do.

If you read this whole thing, kudos to you. I appreciate you all and I'm sorry for dumping it but I have not been able to really say anything about what's going on in my life because i just.. idk I don't have the words for it most days. I'm just tired.

[neonbitemarks]

Hypnos & Cayden - Tranferred Thread Archive

His hunger was all-consuming, Hypnos’ need to finally eat something after being starved for so long, keeping his thoughts distracted from anything else for the time being. He knew he was hurt, at least, but his wounds could wait until the torturous gnawing sensation in his stomach had been quietened some.

He was too distracted by it to even notice how much things had changed in his home, or to check to see if anyone else was there as he stole through the house to the kitchen, hands shaking as he went through the stores of food, scarcely able to open the packaging properly before he was trying to eat it, desperation taking over his actions as he ate.

Cayden had thought he was home alone for the night. He had told Blake and Lilah to have their own little date night because he was exhausted and still trying to get back in the habit of staying awake like a normal person without needing to sleep for a week or so. Plus, he liked making sure they got some time to just the two of them, too.

So the sounds coming from downstairs startled him awake and almost had him reaching for a baseball bat before he figured it was probably just his psychotic little brother or something. Creeping downstairs, he stopped dead when he glanced into the kitchen and saw just who was actually there.

“D-daddy?”

With how thin, dirty and dishevelled he was, Hypnos looked practically wraith-like in appearance, his hair matted and his eyes hollow.

“Cayden…”

His son’s name was barely a cracked whisper after spending so long having not spoken to a single soul during his imprisonment. He almost dropped the food he’d piled up in his arms when he saw him, only barely managing to function enough to put it all down on the counter instead before turning back to the younger male, trying to find a relieved smile among the sudden torrent of emotions that flooded into him.

It took him a moment to remember how to move, but when he did, he lurched forward and all but tackled his dad. It had been hard enough when his sibling had left, but he had honestly thought his dad had abandoned him too, and that had nearly broken him.

The hug was tight, probably too tight, as he broke down sobbing. It didn’t matter to him that Hypnos looked like a walking horror movie extra, all that mattered was he had come back. That he was home. The momentum of his son almost knocked him off his feet, and tight enough that it stole the breath from him for a moment, but it was returned with as much strength as he could muster, even as the injuries he bore reminded him of their existence with the sudden physical contact.

“H-how long have I been gone?” he asked, tears already making the words difficult to get out.

Hypnos was afraid to know the answer. More so when he thought about how everyone else might have reacted to his absence.

It was a long moment before Cayden could slow his sobs enough to even try to make words came out. He had just been so devastated that it had been a struggle to not push away everyone else that he loved too.

“O-over twenty years,” he finally choked out before completely burying his face against his dad’s shoulder.

Hypnos froze, the answer hitting him like a slap in the face.

“Twenty years? I’ve been in that place for…”

He was shellshocked. The worst he’d imagined in his confinement had been far fewer. Perhaps no more than five or six at most, but not twenty. The realization made him suddenly lightheaded, and he had to force his focus back to his son to maintain enough equilibrium to not collapse.

“Cayden, I’m so sorry. I-I…”

He whimpered a little, trying to calm himself down but not being able to. The entire thing was a fresh wave of emotion and heartache.

“You vanished a-around the same time as Ma- my brother and sister and I thought you left me too,” he wept, hating just how weak and vulnerable he sounded about the entire thing. But he had spent the years thinking it was his fault that they all left him.

“Papa and Hecate and Aunt Ava tried finding you…”

“No. No, I didn’t leave you.” Hypnos answered quickly, panicked and heartbroken at finding out Cayden thought he’d been abandoned.

“A coven of witches caught me. They were trying to summon and capture your uncle Thana, but they caught me instead.” he explained, clinging to the boy as though he was afraid either of them might disintegrate at any moment.

“They kept me prisoner all this time. The magic they used, I don’t know where they got it, but it is old, forgotten magic, and it weakened me, stopping me from escaping and from anyone finding me.”

The words and explanation helped, but he was still feeling so terribly lost and raw. There was so much he had to be caught up on and Cayden had no idea where to even try starting.

“How…how did you get out?”

“I don’t know, exactly.” he admitted, closing his eyes to try to lessen the tears and finding it to be no help at all.

“After I’d been trapped a while and had become weak, I fell asleep, and when I woke again, the place had been burned down, and I only escaped after the building caved in on the cage and broken it open. I don’t know how long before I woke it happened, but I came straight back here once I got out.”

“S-so no one else know y-you’re home?”

He knew he was going to need to call his papa at the very least. Or aunt Ava, both of them surprisingly good at getting anyone and everyone else to answer their phones no matter how busy they were.

Hypnos shook his head, although, in truth, he had no idea if anyone had picked up his presence at all after he’d finally escaped and could be traced again.

He had no idea even how the building had burned to the ground in the first place, or what had happened to those who had held him against his will, but those thoughts were furthest from his mind right now, simply just trying to hold himself together enough to begin to recover from his ordeal.

Cayden pulled back slowly and tried to wipe his face dry, but it didn’t help that he was still crying. His nose was all stuffed up from it, making it hard to breathe, but he was trying to pull himself back together and be logical.

“We gotta…gotta call papa or Cate. They need to know.”

As much as he feared how Moros would react to seeing him again after so long, Cayden was right, and Hypnos was just as desperate to see his loved ones as his son had been to see him.

“I know.” he murmured, fighting a spell of lightheadedness that had him rocking a little on his heels and almost reaching out for something to steady himself against.

When he finally got himself even remotely under control, Cayden really looked at him and it broke his heart even more. The fact that anyone could treat his dad like this… It made him understand why his aunt and uncle were so protective of him.

“You need to sit,” he mumbled, reaching out for him to help steady him better.

Hypnos nodded in agreement, reluctant to let go of his son, but glad to not have to stand any longer with how little strength he had in his current physical state.

“I’m so sorry I put all of you through this.” he mumbled tearfully, too exhausted to try to hold back his emotions, his relief at finally being free and home coming up against his struggle to comprehend that he’d been missing for over two decades. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

As soon as his dad was settled, Cay curled up against his legs, cheek resting against his knee. He was almost afraid it was all just a dream and that his dad would vanish again if he let go of him for even a moment.

The apologies had him curled tighter around his legs, a small whimper escaping him. Everything was still sort of messy for him, getting back into things difficult at best, but he was trying. “Don’t go away again, okay? Please? Just stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Hypnos murmured, stroking his sons messy hair. “I promise. I don’t know what happened to the coven that kept me locked up, but I don’t think they can do it again. The place they kept me, it was completely destroyed.”

He stilled under his dad’s touch, but he didn’t loosen his grip. It was almost as if he were a child again and dealing with his first nightmares, but he didn’t really care. “Good. Fuck them. I hope they’re dead,” he growled, voice still thick from crying.

Hypnos let out a shuddered sigh, nodding and closing his eyes. He wasn’t normally one for wishing death on anyone, but this was a justifiable exception that he doubted anyone could argue against.

He didn’t say much else for a while, content to focus his remaining energy on comforting his son. Cayden was half in his lap, needing the closeness more than he realized. A small part of him kept saying it was just a dream and he was too terrified that it was. He probably wouldn’t believe it until his other father told him it wasn’t a dream.

“You need to eat,” he finally mumbled, still not letting go.

A weak smile barely made its way onto his lips to acknowledge Cay’s words. He’d gone without food for so long that he was both ravenously hungry, and far too thin to eat very much without making himself sick. It would take time and rest for him to recover and be much more like his old self, but at least now he was home and had his family there with him, and that was all he cared about.

He shifted around a little, just enough to reach the counter without letting go of Hypnos, and began blindly grabbing at food. “Eat.” His tone was soft, more begging than demanding, but he still didn’t leave a whole lot of room to argue in his worry.

Hypnos complied as best he could, unable to help the sounds he made as he remembered the taste of things he’d long since forgotten, devouring each of the things his son gave him like he was eating for the first time in his life, and it didn’t take long to reach the limits his terribly shrunken stomach could bear for the moment, and he had to refuse anything further before he ended up vomiting. Cay stay curled around his lap, clingy like he did when he was small. He knew he looked ridiculous and bordering on pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t thought he would ever see his dad again and he wasn’t ready to let go. “Don’t leave again?”

“I won’t. I promise.” Hypnos smiled, his mouth still half full as he stroked his sons hair reassuringly, smoothing out a few unruly curls that had broken loose from the main mass.

“Nothing and nobody will ever take me away from you again, okay? I swear.”

The promise helped and, had he been a little more calm, the way Hypnos was smoothing out his hair would have put him right back to sleep.

“Everyone got broken…” he mumbled, knowing his dad ought to be filled in on everything that happened. “Because I was gone?” he asked, sounding suddenly worried.

The thought concerned him, but of course, he had no idea that he wasn’t the only one of the family they’d lost during that time. It had just been a terribly unfortunate coincidental event.

Cayden shook his head, hair flopping over his eyes as he did.

“Not just you. Matty left, Tass and Evander left Lyri, even Lyric left and Mac tried to drink himself to death. Thrasos lost basically everything to a fire and the only thing that made aunt Ava even remotely okay was she had Jack to take care of…”

“W-what?”

The word pinched as it caught in his dry throat, his mind taking a moment to process what his son had just told him.

“Matty left? And…. Oh gods, my dear sweet boy. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I…” he trailed off, tears welling in his eyes. It broke his heart to hear the extent of the devastation, and it suddenly made such terrible sense that they’d thought he’d just happened to have left too.

“I’ve missed so much. How could I have missed so much?”

His grip on his father’s legs tightened a little, the pain he was still feeling clearly pushing to surface. He didn’t want to lose anything else.

“No one knew where you were. Ava couldn’t track your chip, nothing Hecate tried worked… And papa’s knowing everything doesn’t work when it’s something that affects him.”

His words were muffled from how his face was pressed against Hypnos, but he wasn’t about to shift backwards or lift his head for anything at the moment.

Hypnos’s heart was breaking all over again. Part of him was angry at himself for missing so much and worrying the ones who loved him, no matter how much he tried to remind himself that his absence hadn’t been his fault, but he couldn’t help feel robbed of that time when he’d been needed so much.

A few tears cut fresh tracks in the dirt on his cheeks as he cried silently, trying to process everything.

Cay tried to press himself closer to his father, but he was already damn near in his lap like an overgrown toddler. He had tried to heal, to press down his hurt enough to carry on with life, but it was evident that he wasn’t doing quite as well as he was letting people believe.

“Please don’t go away again…”

“I won’t. Never again, I promise.”

Hypnos was fighting his exhaustion hard. If he didn’t have so much he needed to do and a distraught son to comfort, he would have easily slipped into a near-coma-like sleep until he regained enough of his strength to be at least semi-functional again. He couldn’t rest yet though. Not until he’d made things right.

The words helped, his breathing slowly beginning to even back out. He was still trying to convince himself that it was a dream, but there was always a little part of Cayden that had a hard time telling the difference. It wasn’t something he told people though.

“Okay..”

He played comfortingly with Cayden’s curls, his sons hair almost as unruly as his own but not nearly as matted and tangled. It brought the barest of smiles to his chapped lips.

His thoughts turned to all the things he needed to do. He’d eaten enough to tide him over for now, so that was one less thing to worry about. Then, of course, he’d need to let the rest of his family know he’d returned.

“You need rest,” the boy finally mumbled, emotionally exhausted. He could only imagine how much worse his dad felt with literally being sleep. Not that Cay really wanted him to pass out for the next month or two.

“I will rest once I have fixed the things I have broken,” he stated matter-of-factly, although the exhaustion was clear in the laboured breath beneath his words.

“I have too much to do, too many people to set things right with. I promise I will rest after that, but I won’t until then. You need me too much.”

“Just being home is enough,” he countered softly, knowing everything else could wait. Even if that meant he had to make the calls himself.

“They’ll understand when they see you.”

Hypnos had wanted to argue further but his exhaustion wouldn’t let him, and if he was entirely honest with himself, it wasn’t the urgency that bothered him, but the apprehension of how the rest of his family would react after thinking he’d abandoned them all, but he trusted Cay’s word enough to believe that his son was correct in his assumption despite his own feelings.

It took him a moment, but Cayden stood and helped his father up, keeping an arm around him. He just looked so frail that Cay was honestly afraid he’d just fall over without someone to lean on. “We kept your room the same…”

Hypnos smiled weakly at that. He would be glad for some familiarity after what he’d been through. Leaning against his son, Hypnos sagged under his own weight, stumbling a little as he struggled to keep himself upright until he had reached another place he could rest.

Cay kept a hold of him, supporting his, well, lack of weight pretty easily. It would have probably been easier to carry him, but he knew his dad would never regain any muscle that way.

“I’ll call around once you’re settled, okay?”

Hypnos nodded, all but collapsing as soon as he reached his bed, his entire weight barely enough to make an indentation on its surface.

“It’s been such a long time since I slept in a bed,” he confessed hoarsely, already struggling to keep his eyes open as he recalled the comfortless cell he’d been kept in and the hard floor that had been his only option for trying to rest upon.

Cayden immediately set about getting him tucked in like he used to do for him when he was a child. It was the least he could do at the moment, the only thing that was making him feel useful.

“Sleep. I’ll call Cate and dad and aunt Ava,” he promised, knowing the three people he needed to call first.

Hypnos nodded faintly to acknowledge his son’s words just as he started to lose his fight against unconsciousness. Even if he only took a short rest, for now, he’d still need to sleep a while longer later anyway for him to begin to recover from his ordeal, and he hoped his family didn’t hold too much against him.

Cay crept from the room quietly to make the phone calls, feeling a little bad that he had no answers to give. But, he knew his dad needed rest and not to be pushed into talking and he was grateful that they did too. Once he was off the phone, he text Blake and Lilah, letting them know what was going on before turning the thing off and slipping back into his dad’s room to curl up next to the bed. He didn’t want Hypnos to wake up alone.

[stink-gremlin]

Top Surgery Diary: Day 5

Owie owie. Definitely in a lot more pain than previous few days. Had to take some extra painkillers because my chest was horrible. I’m also waking up at like 5.30am and going to bed at like 8pm this surgery has fucked with my sleep schedule man. Don’t get me wrong the insomnia I’ve been used to for the past two years isn’t the healthiest either but getting tired immediately after dinner is a joke man.

Anyways it’s been almost a week since my surgery so here’s some reviews of the shit I bought (no particular order)

Mastectomy pillow: 8/10 it’s a fucking lifesaver to have on your chest so you’re able to play video games/eat/go on your phone and still function like a normal human being

Pregnancy pillow (big tube shaped one): 100/10 it’s the comfiest thing ever and an absolute game changer frfr. I’m not a back sleeper but I have to due to the surgery so the pregnancy pillow helps me stay in place on my back. It’s also stupidly comfortable even when I wasn’t sleeping on my back before the surgery like that week I had the pillow before my surgery was some of the best sleep I got in ages it’s like a huge warm hug.

Wedge pillow: 7/10. An unsung hero fr. This mf is so much more comfortable for sleeping at 45 degrees instead of piling a bunch of pillows behind your back. I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep nearly as well without it

Camping wipes: 4/10 honestly I’ve only really used them for my face because there’s no way for me to use them on my arms just yet cuz of bandages and sponges and shit so they’re not done much so far.

Portable bidet: 1/10 I haven’t used it at all. Like if you already have a bidet all the power for you but don’t get a camping one because you think you need it you really don’t you can go to the loo just fine without it.

Crocs: 8/10. Don’t think this counts as a top surgery expense but I haven’t been able to wear proper socks or shoes and I’ve been living in these fuckers ever since -2 points is for the squeaking sound they make because I’m walking in them with no socks on

Dried mangos: 10/10 no more constipation what more can I say

One thing I kinda wish existed was a way for me to carry my drains better. Atm I’m just carrying them around in a shopping bag and they’re really cumbersome but I dunno how to combat that really.

[bumblebeebubbles]

New Life - Ch. 3

Summary: Elena is paralyzed from the waist down, having difficulties adjusting to her new life even after a year following her accident. Luckily Damon is there to support her and pick up the pieces.

Warning: contains graphic descriptions of bodily functions/fluids and (probably) inaccurate medical procedures!

Rating: M

Pairing: Damon/Elena

Read on: FF.net or AO3

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Chapter 3

The doctor was clearly mistaken because the two catheters are still as uncomfortable as they were when they were first inserted. Damon assisted her in getting settled on the bed, but she is now forced to lie on her side because of the rectal catheter and cannot lie on her back comfortably either.

Damon offered to lie on the bed with her, but Elena is too embarrassed to let him get that close. Because of her situation, she doesn't know when she'll be able to look him in the eyes without flushing. So Damon left her alone, but she knows he went into the living room or kitchen. He is probably organizing her medications and other medical supplies, and after that he would prepare the diet meal suggested by the doctor for tomorrow. This means no fatty or oily foods, which she normally enjoys eating; instead, she can eat vegetables, rice, and regular chicken breast to help with her incontinence.

Elena closes her eyes and tries to relax as much as her circumstances allow. The tubes are extremely uncomfortable, as is the position she is in, but she knows she can't change it, and she can also feel the fatigue of being alert, examined, and humiliated all day. Fortunately, she hasn't used either the indwelling catheter or the bowel catheter so far (she doesn't have control over them anyway) and hopes that she won't use them while she sleeps either.

Slowly, fatigue sets in, and she falls into a deep sleep, trying to put the events of the day behind her.

-/-

Damon wakes her up a few hours later, but it appears that her wish has not been granted, and her bladder has let go while she slept. She looks at the digital clock on the bedside table and notices that it's 8 p.m.

When he removes the covers from her, Elena closes her eyes resignedly, realizing that her collection bag is nearly full. Damon looks apologetically at her as he puts on medical gloves and reaches for the tube to remove the catheter from her urethra. "I'll be quick, sweetheart," he assures her, and Elena simply nods.

Damon begins to pull the tube out of her urethra, and Elena grunts. She breathes a sigh of relief as soon as the catheter is removed, and Damon wipes her vagina as well. Unfortunately, her relief is short-lived. Damon prepares a new catheter and rubs some lubricant on the tube, then inserts the new catheter with a decisive motion. Elena groans and closes her eyes in discomfort.

"Hey, it's over," he says, and Elena takes notice of his kind smile. She turns away, unable to overcome the humiliating feeling.

Damon, oblivious to her state of mind, sits next to her on the bed and strokes her hair. She immediately feels better after inhaling her favorite scent on him, musk with a hint of honey. Then she notices Damon has changed into his pajamas and opens her eyes. "Wha-" she wants to ask, but Damon answers her as if he can read her mind.

"I give you a pass on dinner this time, and I'm actually sleepy," he says naturally, and Elena blinks. She didn't believe Damon would still want to sleep next to her.

Elena isn't sure if she'd want to sleep next to him. So many things could go wrong. Things that would most likely scare him off.

"Damon-"

"No. Don't even bother finishing that sentence. I told you it doesn't bother me. None of it. If anything comes up, I'll be here to help," he gently scolds her and kisses her cheek.

Elena looks at him mortified.

"No, you-"

"Yeah, I can. I thought we're past you trying to shield me from it and I want to do this for you."

She doesn't know what to say and instead nods, trying to hold back tears.

Damon is on the bed next to her, but they don't touch. Then, hesitantly, he moves closer to her, resting his forehead on hers, but taking care not to touch the rest of their bodies. She knows deep down that he is lying in this manner to avoid causing her further discomfort, but doubt creeps into her mind. She closes her eyes and listens to Damon's reassuring words that everything will be fine and that things will soon return to normal. But she is aware that this is a condition that could reappear at any time. Still, she tries to be more optimistic for Damon's sake.

They both fall asleep gradually, her last memory is of Damon placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

-/-

She awakens a few hours later to an unpleasant feeling, but as soon as she opens her eyes, she realizes it is morning. She feels the need to fart, but for some reason, it causes her great discomfort. She then remembers she has a catheter in her rectum, which is causing gas in her bowels that she is having difficulty getting rid of. Her predicament doesn't help problems with her hemorrhoids, and with a grunt, some of the gas from her anus escapes through her catheter. Unfortunately, this was not the main source of her discomfort, and in the meantime, Damon is waking up.

"Elena?" he asks, a little sleepily, but she knows he can tell she's in pain as he sits up in bed. He looks at the clock before turning his gaze back to her "Do you want me to leave or stay in case of...?"

Elena senses the uncertainty in his voice and knows why. He wishes to assist her, but he prefers to leave the decision to her. Elena loves him even more because of it.

Another tight feeling in her stomach washes over her, and all she could do is nod to him to stay while farting again, this time audibly. She blushes, but Damon doesn't seem to care about that, only concern swimming in his blue orbs.

Her anus is aching from the hemorrhoids as the gases try to burst out of her and she reflexively grabs for her backside to soothe the situation but Damon leans over her quickly. "Elena, don't," he adds in a warning tone and takes her hand away.

He pulls the blankets off her and then goes behind her back to examine her bowel catheter. She knows there are no stools in there yet, which would have woken her up. Damon comes back into view, then lays a soothing hand on her shoulder. "I think you're about to have a bowel movement. Do you think I need to help the process, or it will come out?"

"I...I don't...I don't know," she replies between grunts as the tightness in her stomach doesn't relieve. She doesn't know what form the stool will come out in.

Another fart leaves her anus and she groans again.

"You're quite bloated, sweetheart. I reckon you'll have a loose stool this time. Probably the result of the enema yesterday." he informs her and Elena has a similar thought. She's just hoping it doesn't turn into a mild case of diarrhea.

"I need to turn you onto your stomach, which may help, especially if we can spread your legs a little."

Elena nods, despite the fact that she knows moving will be torturous. Damon grips her left leg at the bend of her knee with one hand and her shoulder with the other, rolling her onto her stomach slowly. The indwelling catheter is adjusted by Damon so that it is between her legs rather than her resting on it. He places her legs in a frog-like position, pushing them up to her sides slightly. "Ah...Uh," Elena grunts as the rectal catheter moves in her with the repositioning.

"All right, this might help," Damon says, but she isn't feeling that relieved just now.

They wait at least another 10 minutes, but apart from a few farts, no stools have come out so far. Damon massages her lower back a few times, but it doesn't have much effect.

He lets out a sigh. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to do it," he says apologizingly to her, who inquires as to what.

"The doctor said that if this were the case, the rectal catheter would need to be pushed up a little to allow the stool to flow more easily and to trigger evacuation."

Elena wants to protest but understands she has no choice.

"All right, here we go," he says, and Elena feels Damon's touch on the catheter. Her back tenses as he starts to push the tube up. "Ahh," she grunts, as her legs begin to spasm slightly.

She is aware that the spasms are more common during her bowel programs, largely because of suppositories and digital stimulation in her rectum and anus, upsetting her nervous system.

Damon finally stops pushing the tube up, and Elena feels the change. The stool passes through her bowels, and a bit lands in the collection bag, followed by diarrhea leaving her rectum. Her bowels empty in a farting fit, so uncomfortable that she grips the pillow under hir head with her hands, her legs still spasming and her back straining. After a few minutes, it seems she is empty, and Damon checks her to be sure. Slowly, he begins to pull out the tube, and Elena grunts as it irritates her hemorrhoids.

The next second the catheter leaves her anus and she lets out a sigh of relief. She knows, and feels, that her anus is now wide open and spasming as well, and she hopes that mucus won't flow out through it. Damon immediately but gently wipes her down, using at least 6 wipes, and takes her soiled catheter out of the room. She knows how exposed she is right now and tries to move to cover up herself, but Damon comes back and kneels down, placing a kiss on her hair. "It's almost over" he whispers as she shuts her eyes for a second.

Then she notices he's holding a new catheter, which he will insert into her rectum in a moment.

"Wait a minute, please," she begs, enjoying the fact that her hemorrhoids are not being forced against anything.

At that time, her bladder releases and warm pee oozes from her urethra and into her collection bag.

Damon swiftly changes the catheter again, re-powders her genitals, and pushes the tube up her bladder.

She wants to take advantage of the time until she has to wear a new rectal catheter and find comfort in Damon's closeness. She hasn't admitted it to herself yet, but inside she's so grateful he's by her side and won't leave no matter how difficult their situation as a couple is.

She would do anything to be "normal" again and offer Damon anything he wants if there were no boundaries to their lives and their relationship and if they could make love whenever they want.

But sadly, life has dealt her a bad hand and she needs to get used to the circumstance where there will be ongoing impediments in her life. She just hopes that Damon's love is strong enough to hold on to her.

It's been a long since she could feel his skin against her, how her breasts were bound by his palm, how he filled her so perfectly. It had been a while since they had complemented each other and she misses it so much.

Damon plants a final kiss on her forehead before standing beside her and telling her he will prepare the meals for the day. Elena doesn't know what to make of this but is grateful that she still has some time remaining without the catheter.

But about ten minutes later, Damon returns, still carrying the rectal catheter and appearing contrite. She takes a long breath and exhales resignedly.

"Okay baby, let's get this over with," he says and goes around her back.

With one hand he parts her buttocks and with the other, he smears lubricant on her puckered anus, the chill of the jelly sending shivers through her. The next moment, she feels the end of the tube and Damon slowly pushes the catheter. She grunts as the tube goes higher and higher inside her, her back tensing as the catheter is fully inserted. Damon places a collection bag over the end of the catheter and covers her with the blanket.

Damon appears in front of her and bends down.

"I'll check back in a couple of hours to see if your bladder has let go, till then hang in there, sweetheart, and get some more sleep. I'll bring your lunch soon."

Elena merely nods, trying to get used to the ache, but just can't. Slowly, she feels drowsiness take hold again and she drifts off to a dreamless snooze.

-/-

A few hours later she is having her lunch, which is not her favorite, and although she knows Damon has tried, but even a Michelin-star chef couldn't make more out of simple chicken breast and rice without seasonings and whatnot.

Just as she is swallowing the last meal, her bladder lets go and the collection bag is filled with urine.

She also signals to Damon what has happened and he pulls the blanket off her. He slips on a rubber glove and gently pulls the tube out. Elena tries not to make a sound at the discomfort but fails. He disposes of the used catheter and wipes her genitals with antiseptic wipes.

Elena continues to prepare mentally for another catheter to be put in, but Damon pulls the blanket back over her.

"I don't think it's necessary to reinsert the bladder catheter for a while, you'll be fine for a few hours," he winks at her and Elena furrows her brow, but internally she's delighted to have at least one less inconvenience to endure.

She looks up at him and notices he has a large smile on his face and before Elena can ask a question, he's on the bed next to her and kissing her.

"Mmhm," she lets out in surprise, but swiftly, almost instinctively kisses him back.

They both lie on their sides, Damon deepening the kiss and she's relaxing into the bliss.

"I want you," he murmurs between kisses, then pulls away slightly and looks deeply into her eyes.

Her mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. Is he actually saying what she thinks...?

"Damon..." she gasps, then closes her eyes. "I want you too, more than you know, but-"

"Shh," he hushes, fingers over her mouth, love swirling in his eyes. "I know. you think it's not possible and even Dr. Smith's said that. But I love a challenge."

There's a playful glint in his eyes, too, and then his hand slides lower from her chest. Elena closes her eyes as his fingers are now on her lower belly and slowly reaching her center. She hisses slightly as his fingers start playing with her, her skin a little sensitive from the catheter.

Damon senses this and carefully starts to stroke her.

She wants to inform him about her concerns, but he starts moving her fingers faster and quicker and Elena hisses again, this time because of the pleasant feeling.

She wants him to make love to her more than anything, but she doesn't know how to tell him that it might not be possible in this situation.

"Damon...I can't," she confesses in a low voice, but he silences her with another kiss.

"Let's try something else. I know it sounds impossible, but be on top for now. I know it won't be practical on your back right now. I'll help," his confidence hasn't yet stuck to Elena but she wants to believe they can do it.

Damon takes his hand off her vagina and lies on his back. In a flash, he strips off his jeans and shirt and is separated from being completely naked next to her by only a pair of black boxers. Elena'ss eyes settle on his perfect chest and abs and she caresses down his stomach with her hand. His eyes close for a moment and a smile appears on his lips.

Elena is feeling proud of herself for creating that smile on his face, and then he swiftly gets rid of his boxers as well.

She swallows and is eager to have him delve into her warm center.

It's as if he is reading her mind. he pushes himself closer to her, lying on his back, then reaches under her arms and looks up at her. Elena understands what he wants, to help her, so she can lie across Damon.

She takes a deep breath, knowing that this change of posture will be difficult because of her catheter, but nods and carefully begins to move position.

She groans as the catheter begins to move in her rectum and her strained back shifts position.

After a few torturous seconds, though, she is lying on Damon and attempting not to put all her weight on him, trying to use her arms to lean back on his chest. Her rear, meanwhile, is between Damon's thighs, her back still strained.

Damon looks up at her, warmth in his eyes, then runs his hand through her hair. He slides down a little and reaches between them. Elena feels her the tip of his penis on her vagina as he aligns himself with her.

Elena uses her upper arms to push herself forward and with that motion, they come together. They both let out a sigh, but she realizes that this is not fully comfortable for her. With each thrust, the catheter tightens in her buttocks, it would be better if her legs were spread wider.

As if Damon is reading her mind, he puts his legs under her knees and slowly starts to spread her legs. Elena groans as the catheter moves inside her, but feels a little more comfortable. He positions his legs so they don't entangle with hers and touch the catheter. Damon presses a kiss to her lips and then he starts thrusting again, this time feeling better for her too. The motions aren't the most graceful, and each thrust is accompanied by an uncomfortable sensation alongside the good feeling, but Elena knows that comes at a price.

She's not complaining, because it's getting better for her, even though she's slower to reach a state of ecstasy. The thrusts are becoming less erratic, Damon is encouraging her with his movements and kisses and Elena knows it feels good for him too as his moans deepen. They are getting closer and closer to climax and with the next thrust Damon reaches ecstasy and she follows after a few seconds before immediately a small amount of gas leaves her rectum and with ecstasy, a small bowel movement begins.

Elena comes amidst a farting fit, then fecal matter escapes her rectum and falls into the catheter's collection bag. Above Damon, she starts to tremble slightly as even more gas leaves her anus, but Damon merely reassures her and whispers nice nothings in her ear.

She grunts as the bowel movements subside, but Elena doesn't regret making love, even if it is now quite uncomfortable for what is happening to her.

He stays with her till her bowel movements come to a finish, her legs spasming slightly and her head buried in Damon's shoulder.

When it's over, he drops one last kiss on her forehead, then slips carefully out from under himr and puts on his robe.

Drowsiness takes over again, the lovemaking and the bowel movements have absorbed all her power. She knows Damon will come back soon with a catheter, but she can't keep her eyes open, and her hemorrhoids won't allow her to fall entirely asleep.

It's only been two days, but she's already fatigued to the point of exhaustion. She can only hope that she can actually manage this issue better.

[linkedkeysau-official]

Whumptober 2022- Linked Keys edition

Day 7- Shaking hands/silent panic attack/seizures (+ art)

Mask knew it wasn't going to be a fun day. He felt congested, and achy, and just all around not good, not to mention tired— as he had gone yet another night without sleep— but even more so than usual. Immediately he could tell he was coming down with a cold or some kind of illness. His throat burned as he tried to take a drink of water, and his nose was so stuffed up that he could only breathe through his mouth. Yeah he definitely must have caught something during the group's travels. Still, it wasn't like he couldn't function. It sucked, but he had pushed through tougher days than this. As such, he did his best to act normally as he went to join the other heroes for breakfast.

"Morning, Sprite. Sleep well?" Warriors asked. Mask shrugged, sitting down on the ground without a word.

"Did you sleep at all? Cuz kid… no offense but you look like shit." Wild commented, soon turning his attention back to the eggs he was cooking.

"I… slept." Mask hesitantly lied. Warriors gave him a look.

"Okay maybe I didn't sleep as much as I should have but I'm fine. Really!" Mask rolled his eyes. Warriors let out a sigh,

"Fine. As long as you're not using that damned mask again." Mask knew exactly what he was talking about: the All-Night mask, which prevents the wearer from sleeping as long as it's on, and which Mask had used to intentionally deprive himself of sleep for the sake of not having nightmares. Was that potentially a reason for him getting sick now? Yeah. But Mask would rather have a cold for a short time than be plagued with nightmares every night.

"Alright, it's done. Who wants some fried eggs and rice?" Wild called out to the rest of the camp. Several hands went up. Others, who had still been asleep, rose groggily upon either hearing something about eggs or smelling the food itself and knowing breakfast was ready. Mask hadn't eaten since the early lunch they had yesterday, but for some reason his appetite didn't perk up when he saw the food. He couldn't even smell it, his nose was so clogged. Wild offered him a plate anyway, and Mask shook his head in refusal, but Warriors spoke up on his behalf.

"He'll have some too." The captain turned to his adopted son, "You need to eat something. We're going to be walking all day, and it's not good to be active like that and not eat anything beforehand."

"M'not hungry." Mask muttered.

"I didn't ask. At least eat some of it. I'll eat what you don't want, but you need to at least have some of both the egg and the rice." Warriors said firmly, handing Mask the plate of food. Mask groaned, but didn't argue. Instead he began absentmindedly picking at the contents of his plate, trying to get the motivation to take a bite.

"Everyone, eat quickly. We need to be on the road as soon as possible if we're going to make it back to Harbortown before dark." Time announced. They needed to get back to their ship so they could sail out to their next destination, and every day they wasted on land was another that Nihrie was gathering power, making their quest a little bit harder, and posing more and more of a threat to the innocent people of this world.

"Come on, Time. We've been moving around nonstop since we got back to this island. Can't we rest just this once?" Paint whined.

"Yeah, we won't be able to help anyone if we're all too sore and tired to move, let alone fight." Wind agreed.

"You can rest on the ship. It's going to be a long trip north to that volcanic island anyway. You all have endured far, far worse than a few days of walking. It is a mild discomfort, it won't kill you to go one more day." Time said firmly. Several groans came after this announcement, but nobody argued. Everyone knew the Hero of Time's stubbornness was nearly unmatched. As if to demonstrate this, his younger counterpart was still dragging his feet with breakfast.

"Mask, hurry up and eat! You haven't taken a single bite yet!" Warriors scolded.

"I'm. not. Hungry." Mask argued, "Told you that already."

"Well, too bad. I am not going to watch you starve yourself again, so either you start eating or I will feed that to you like a baby."

"Ugh, fine!" Mask groaned. He didn't feel like eating, but he really didn't want the embarrassment of being fed like an infant. Warriors had proven that he can and will resort to that method, and Mask didn't really want to repeat that experience, so he reluctantly shoveled a bite of egg and some rice into his mouth. He could hardly even taste it, though he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse right now. He glanced over at Warriors, continuing to force his food down until the captain looked content.

"Can I be done now?" Mask whined,

"Sure." Warriors sighed, taking the plate from him to finish it himself. He wished there was a better way to get Mask to eat. The kid had a horrible habit of ignoring his own needs, and it has more than once resulted in severe sleep deprivation, near-starvation, and more often than not, pushing himself to the point of literal collapse before he would admit he was not okay. Warriors tried his hardest, but the fact was sometimes the Sprite simply didn't want to eat. And Warriors couldn't force him to without physically shoving food down his throat. The kid's stubbornness was concerning, but it had always kept him going when things got almost too tough to handle.

And yet, while this behavior wasn't out of the ordinary for Mask, Warriors couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something the kid wasn't telling him, or anyone for that matter. He just couldn't figure out what. All he knew was that Mask was moving a bit more sluggish than usual. It could very well be leftover tiredness from the night before, and Warriors tried to convince himself he was worrying for nothing, but given the Sprite’s track record, his instincts were telling him there was something else.

"You're not sick, are you, Sprite?"

"Huh?" Mask asked, so surprised at how fast his dad had guessed the truth that he didn't have time to think of a lie, "M-Maybe. It's just a cold, though. I'll be fine." He confessed. Warriors stared at him skeptically before shrugging,

"If you say so. But promise me that if you start feeling worse you'll tell me, okay? I don't want you pushing yourself too hard if you're getting sick."

"'Kay. I will." Mask nodded. He probably wasn't going to. Admitting that he felt bad would lead everyone else to start babying him. He hated when people treated him like some helpless infant. He'd handled far worse before. He could push through this and just get some rest when they made it to Harbortown.

He moved quite a bit slower than usual. And nobody could miss the near-incessant sniffling and the occasional cough that slipped out. A few times, the others would cast a glance over at him as if to ask if he was okay, but a sharp glare from the kid immediately made them back off. Even at 10 years old, the Hero of Time had his death stare down pat. Honestly he probably would have been fine if things had stayed the way they were. But given the boys' luck thus far, he should have known it would take a turn for the worse.

As the boys reached roughly their halfway point, it began to rain. It started out as a light sprinkle, then became a drizzle, and less than an hour later it was a full-on downpour. The problem was, in the middle of an open field like this— with the chain having left the cover of the forest behind before the rain even started— there was no place the boys could go to find shelter without backtracking almost the same distance they had left to travel. No, it was best to keep going and to tough it out. A little rain never hurt anyone. Well… usually.

Everyone was soaking wet within minutes, including Mask. The young Hero of Time tried to hide it, but it was hard to miss the way he shivered every so often. Out of everyone, he had the least amount of protection from the elements as far as clothing went, in what basically equated to a thin short-sleeved shirt, a pair of shorts, and some oversized boots. He of all people had to be freezing in this weather. And yet when both Wild and Sky offered him their cloak and sailcloth respectively to help shield him from the rain, the kid once again refused their help, even throwing the extra layers onto the muddy ground when they tried to force him to wear them anyway (Sky was very upset that his nice white sailcloth, handmade by his Zelda, had gotten muddy but was assured that it could be washed).

"Hey! Stop! I said I'm fine! I don't need—" Mask shouted as another pair of hands tried to force another piece of extra clothing on him.

"Just wear the damn scarf, Sprite. You're only going to get worse otherwise." Warriors told him firmly. Mask wanted to argue, but he bit his tongue. There was no arguing with dad. Plus he did love that scarf… Always so soft and warm, and a great reminder that Warriors was there— that Mask was safe— whenever he was scared or upset.

"I don't need you all to baby me. I'm fine on my own." Mask grumbled, attempting to hold back another cough.

"It's not us babying you, it's called being smart and making sure nobody freezes in this weather. You don't want to get sicker, do you?" Warriors rolled his eyes. Mask grumbled something under his breath, not wanting to admit out loud that Warriors was right.

"Hey, there's a big tree up ahead, maybe we can stop under there and take a break while we wait for this rain to stop!" Tracks pointed.

"Might not be a bad idea." Time agreed. Everyone ran ahead and gathered underneath the tree that Tracks had pointed out. This being the closest thing they had to a shelter, the boys were glad to at least be out of the worst of the rain, though it was still cold, and many of them were huddling together for warmth.

"Hey, if anyone's hungry, I've got some apples we can munch on while we wait." Wild offered.

"Oh, sweet, thanks!" Wind grinned as he took one.

"Yeah thanks, Wild. I'm starving." Four took one as well. Nearly everyone had taken one, and it was surprising to see just how many of the little red fruits Wild had stored in that crazy Slate of his, but they were grateful for it. A little snack was much appreciated at the moment.

"Want one, Mask?" Wild asked. Mask shook his head.

"You're just not hungry today, are you?" Wild asked. It was strange. Usually the kid would always eagerly gobble up whatever Wild made, sometimes so eagerly that the others feared he may choke. But today he didn't seem interested in Wild's cooking, or somewhat-freshly-picked snacks, at all. Wild wasn't the type to worry, especially about a kid who was already so strange to begin with, but when he would even turn down Wild's cooking, that was a clear sign that something was up.

"You really should have one, Mask. Some fruit would actually help you get over this cold. Not to mention a snack would be good for keeping your energy up." Warriors urged. Mask hesitated, but eventually took one from Wild, nibbling on it slowly. He still wasn't hungry, but if what Wars was saying was right, hopefully this would help to get him back on his feet where he could actually be useful to the group, and not just dead weight— a pathetic lump of sickness— until he recovered.

Another hour passed, and the rain finally stopped. Time and Warriors were now getting everyone ready to go again. The others were thankful for the break, and now more energized than they were that morning. Well, all except Mask. If anything the kid was even more tired than before. No matter how much Warriors tried to urge him to get up, he didn't want to. Fearing this was a sign of the sickness getting worse, Warriors knelt down beside him, gently placing a hand over his son's forehead. It was barely noticeable, but he did seem a bit warmer than normal. Definitely had at least a mild fever, which would certainly explain the sudden reluctance to move.

"Okay, Sprite. Up we go." Warriors, not caring whether or not Mask wanted to be carried, slipped his arms underneath the kid's legs and behind his back. Mask leaned against him, clinging to his tunic as he was lifted up. He buried his face in his father's shoulder, trying to concentrate on the light bouncing as the older hero walked and the warmth and softness of the scarf still around his neck and shoulders, rather than how much everything hurt; His head throbbed, nearly every muscle in his body ached, and he could hardly breathe through his nose at this point. Honestly he was kind of glad to have a break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting by the time the boys reached the town; they'd still somehow made it in perfect time. Half the group then went to stock up on food and supplies for the upcoming voyage while the others went straight to the inn, requesting two of the largest rooms they had (the boys were comfortable enough around each other that they were perfectly fine sharing a room with 7 or 8 others). Warriors had to set Mask down while he reached for his wallet to pay the innkeeper, and from the moment Mask was put back on his feet, he felt a strange sensation through the discomfort he was already experiencing. Lights and colors seemed brighter than they had moments ago. The air around him seemed to chill and heat up drastically at the same time. He stumbled a few times as Warriors walked him up the stairs. Then all of a sudden, he collapsed.

Twilight, his wolflike senses still strong even in his regular form, could vaguely sense that there was something wrong. Something about Mask had changed as Warriors set him down on the ground. He’d known the kid was sick, but this gave him a really bad feeling that it could be worse than anyone anticipated, even if he couldn’t figure out why. Hyrule had gone into the village to stock up on supplies with Wild, Ravio, and Time, and they hadn’t yet returned, meaning the healer wouldn’t be able to help at the moment. The next best person would be Legend. As Warriors and Mask began heading up the stairs, Twilight had alerted the veteran hero to his concerns and asked that he go with them. And what a good thing it was that he did.

Legend saw the kid suddenly collapse in the middle of the hallway. He saw Warriors freeze up as Mask’s body began convulsing violently, as if the kid had completely lost control of his muscles. Legend knew right away what was going on: Mask was having a seizure, and Legend needed to act fast.

“MOVE!!!” He cried, shoving Warriors aside as he rushed towards the kid. He quickly placed his hand underneath Mask’s head so he wouldn’t hit it on the floor and injure himself. With some difficulty, he managed to get the kid laying on his side, as this would ensure that if he vomited, he wouldn’t choke.

“Wars, I need you to–” Legend started to say before he looked back and saw that the captain was still frozen in place, face white as a sheet, staring wide-eyed at the scene before him. He didn’t seem to hear anything Legend said.

“HEY! SOMEONE GO GET HYRULE, NOW! MASK IS… MASK IS IN DANGER!” Legend called out to the other heroes downstairs. He then turned his attention back to the task at hand. How long had this been going on? About 30 seconds? That seemed about right, though to be safe he'd say it was 40. Legend had to keep track of the time; if the seizure didn’t stop within about 2 minutes, there was a much higher chance of it being life-threatening.

50 seconds. Legend could hear a door slam shut downstairs. Hopefully that was someone either going to find Hyrule, or coming back with him.

60 seconds. The convulsions hadn't stopped. Legend kept a close eye on the kid's movements, trying to determine if he was still breathing okay.

70 seconds. It was finally beginning to slow, but that didn't exactly mean Mask was out of the woods yet.

80 seconds. Mask began retching as if he were about to vomit. Legend felt bad as he did so all over the floor, but that could wait until after he knew Mask was safe. Despite his hatred for the Goddesses, Legend was praying to any of them that could possibly reach them in this world that Mask would be okay.

After 90 seconds, it seemed his prayers had been answered. A minute and a half, and Mask finally regained control over his body. Legend breathed a sigh of relief as his body stilled, with the exception of the heavy rising and falling of his chest as he breathed. He was still breathing… they should consider themselves lucky for that. The sound of the door again, followed by hurried footsteps up the stairs caught Legend's attention. Hyrule had returned.

"I heard Mask was in trouble and came as fast as I could. What happened?" The healer asked.

"He had a seizure. And I think it may have been caused by a fever, because he's really warm." Legend explained.

"WHAT?!" Hyrule demanded, rushing to the spot where Legend had been as the latter stood up and made room for him. Indeed the child did feel very warm. It was a relief to see that he was still breathing, and his pulse— while being very fast— was strong. Hyrule used the edge of his sleeve to wipe the bile from the child's face. Mask seemed to have lost consciousness, but hopefully he would wake up in a few minutes.

While Hyrule made sure Mask hadn't injured himself, Legend turned his attention to Warriors. The captain was clearly still not in a good state either, sliding his back down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, head buried in his hands, trembling. Legend could have sworn he heard him sobbing very quietly, as if trying not to be heard. Legend, for once, couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. Poor guy must have been scared out of his mind… he thought. It only made sense, seeing your own child in that state and not knowing what caused it or how to help.

"Hey. You okay?" He asked, sitting down facing Warriors. He didn't respond.

"Wars? Captain!" At the word captain, Warriors' head snapped up to face Legend, "Are you okay?"

Warriors didn't know how to respond. He'd never been good at letting himself be emotionally vulnerable in front of others, especially those he was supposed to lead or who looked up to him. It caught him off guard when he realized Legend had seen him crying. But… He couldn't pretend he was okay this time. Not after that. Not after seeing his son collapse, violent convulsions wracking his tiny, frail body, and… him freezing up. Not even being able to move and help. Having to watch Legend take it upon himself to keep his son from hurting himself further. He shook his head, another sob escaping his lips. He was not okay. He mentally kicked himself for admitting it; Legend would probably never let him live it down. The big strong war captain, breaking down and crying over a sick child, even if it was his sick child. But much to his surprise, Legend didn't say anything of the sort. Instead he spoke with an uncharacteristic level of compassion behind his voice.

"Hey. Look at me. I know you were scared, and there is absolutely no shame in it. Your son just had a seizure, you have every right to be scared. In fact I'd be worried if you weren't scared by this. I was too. Look, my hands are still shaking." Legend held out his hands for Warriors to see, and indeed, they were still shaking from the scare that Mask had just given both boys.

"I froze… He collapsed and I just… I froze. I didn't even try to help… He's my son, dammit! I should have done something!" Warriors wailed.

"You were in shock. You looked about ready to faint. You couldn't have done anything in that state. There's a reason I followed you up here, because Twilight had a feeling something would happen, and I was best equipped to handle it in Rulie's absence." Legend explained.

"You did good, Ledge." Hyrule spoke up behind him, "Aside from a small bruise on his right arm, probably from when he fell, he came out almost completely uninjured. And that's good, because that means he's probably gonna recover without issue, provided we can get this fever to go down. You're right, it does seem pretty high. I've got some medicine in my bag downstairs that might help, but we have to wait until he wakes up to give it to him. Until then we should probably have him lay down in a proper bed… Should be safe to move him now. Are you okay to carry him, Wars, or do you need me to? You are looking a little pale—"

"I can do it." Warriors hurriedly replied. He couldn't do anything during the seizure itself; the least he could do was to help the kid through the aftermath. Hyrule nodded in understanding as Warriors made his way back over to where Mask lay, gently lifting him up and carrying him towards one of the rooms the Chain had reserved. As he carefully tucked Mask into bed, wincing at how hot the poor kid's skin felt (way hotter than before), Legend spoke up,

"I'm just confused as to why this happened. I heard that kids usually only get febrile seizures in their toddler years, and only in rare cases. Unless…" Legend turned to Warriors, "Has he been wearing that mask again? The black one that keeps him awake? Sometimes lack of sleep can make it more likely for this to happen."

"Shouldn't be. I thought Time said he was going to take it away." Warriors replied.

"Search his bag. He might have stolen it back." Warriors did just that, looking through the collection of masks the kid had inside. He recognized most of them, but hadn't seen the kid use them much: there was the Deku mask, the Goron mask, the Zora Mask, the Fierce Deity mask (it took a lot of self control to keep Warriors from just taking that one away, but the kid has needed it before as a last resort), the Bunny hood, Keaton mask, Brehmen mask… then he saw it. The literal torture device that his kid insisted on keeping for some goddess-forsaken reason, designed to prevent sleep for the wearer, the All-Night mask. He pulled it out of Mask's bag and showed it to Legend.

"Yeah that one. If he took it back, there's a good chance he's still been using it." Legend told him. Warriors cursed silently. He hated this damned mask even more than the Fierce Deity, or the Blast mask (which he had confiscated a few weeks ago after the Sprite nearly blew himself up with it). He hated the pain it caused his son, who wore it more often than could possibly be healthy even for an adult, to escape sleep for the sake of avoiding nightmares. If this thing was part of the reason for Mask's seizure, there was no way Warriors could let him keep it. He'd hide it better, and ensure that Mask couldn't get ahold of it again. He was not going to let this happen again.

"I can take it. I'll find a place to put it where he can't get it." Legend offered. Warriors nodded as he handed over the mask. He then sat down on the edge of the bed beside his son. His face was flushed and his hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead. Warriors gently brushed aside his bangs, staring at the kid's calm, peaceful face. At least he didn't seem to be in too much pain.

"I'm back. How's he doing?" Legend asked, returning to the room.

"Still unconscious, still got a fever… Not much has changed." Warriors muttered sadly.

"Well, I brought this. Hopefully this'll help bring his fever down a bit, at least until he's alert enough to take that medicine." Legend handed Warriors a cool, wet cloth, which the other carefully laid over Mask's forehead. Mask had been unconscious for a while, it seemed like. Perhaps it felt longer for Warriors because of his worry, but he was almost certain this was taking longer than it should have. A million questions flooded his mind in the midst of his anxiety. What if Hyrule was wrong? What if there was something else going on, and Mask wasn't going to get better? What if…?

"Ledge? Do you think… He might have another seizure? You said it was probably because of the fever and that hasn't gone down at all. I'm just… I'm just worried. I hate seeing him like this. I hate seeing him suffer. And… I don't know if I could take it if he were to have another—"

"He'll be fine. I promise. As soon as he wakes up, we'll get Hyrule, get him some medicine, and hopefully the fever will go down. You heard what Rule said, he didn't hurt himself or anything, meaning that chances are, he'll be just fine. You hear me? Mask will be fine. He will recover from this."

"But he hasn't woken up yet. Hyrule said he should wake up in a few minutes—!" Warriors tried to argue before Legend gripped his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes,

"He will be okay. I promise. Rulie and I are not going to let anything happen to him, but you're not doing him or anyone else any good by wondering 'what if'. You need to trust me and Hyrule. You need to trust that we will make sure Mask recovers. Can you do that?" Warriors nodded in understanding, though the tears welling up in his eyes told a different story. Legend would never normally do this, especially not to Warriors, but… Whenever Mask was concerned, it seemed to be the only time the two could ever get along, and sometimes in his concern for the kid, Legend did things he wouldn't normally do; He pulled Warriors into a hug.

Warriors was taken aback by this, but returned the embrace, burying his face in the other hero's shoulder and just letting the tears fall. He really hoped Legend didn't mind this, but if he did, he'd just have to deal with it, because Warriors couldn't stop. Or at least until he suddenly heard a soft groan behind him. Warriors quickly pulled away from Legend, turning around to see Mask just beginning to stir. Bleary sapphire eyes opened, immediately coming to focus on Warriors.

"Dad…?"

"Hey, Sprite. How are you feeling?" Warriors asked, trying to hide the fact that he'd just been crying, internally cringing at the way his voice cracked at nearly every other word.

"Cold. Tired. What… What happened?" Mask asked. Warriors hesitated. He should have assumed the kid wouldn't remember what happened, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to tell him. How could he tell Mask what really happened when he could barely think about it himself?

"You… Passed out. You must have been exhausted, with you being sick and walking as much as we did today…" Legend told him. Not technically a lie, but a stretch of the truth that was probably easier for the kid's brain to handle right now.

"It's okay though. You're safe, Hyrule will be back with some medicine, and we'll ask Time if we can postpone the voyage to the next island, so you're free to stay here and recover properly. Okay?" Warriors said, putting a hand against his kid's (still warm) cheek. Mask nodded. He would have tried to argue, but felt too shitty to do so. He was so exhausted, and his body ached so much that he probably couldn't even get out of bed if he tried.

"Oh, that reminds me, I should go down and let Hyrule know Mask is awake." Legend got up and left the room quickly, knowing Warriors probably wanted a moment alone with his kid. Once he was gone, Mask spoke up again,

"I didn't just pass out, did I?" He asked suspiciously, "You were crying… You never cry unless it's really bad." Warriors let out a sigh. He should have known Mask would figure it out. He was a smart kid, very perceptive. Sometimes Warriors forgot just how perceptive.

"...No. You didn't just pass out. You…" Warriors paused, trying to figure out how to get the words out, "You had a seizure, Sprite. Legend and Hyrule think it might have been caused by the fever… As well as a lack of sleep." Warriors told him.

"O-Okay! Fine. I took the All-Night mask back and… I have been using it." Mask confessed, "But I didn't know this was going to happen, I swear!"

"I know. And I'm not mad at you, Sprite. Nobody knew this was going to happen. Honestly you scared me half to death tonight…"

"M'sorry." Mask muttered.

"Hey. Don't apologize. Like I said, nobody could have seen this coming. Except Twilight, in the last minute before you collapsed, but that's beside the point. I am not mad at you." Warriors said firmly, cradling his son's face in his hands, "Though I did confiscate the mask."

"And this is why we accept whatever people are offering you to cover up when you're sick and stuck outside in the rain," Warriors wanted to add, but held himself back. Mask didn't need a lecture right now. That could wait until he was all better.

"That's fair." Mask shrugged weakly. He was a little disappointed, but he knew it was probably for the best anyway. It hurt to use, and if it was going to cause him to get sick and have seizures due to sleep deprivation, he was better off without it. Mask felt awful, both physically, and for the pain he had put his dad, and Legend, and Hyrule, and whoever else witnessed it through. He knew they'd never accept his apology for it, but he still felt as if it were all his fault. Now he was going to be the reason the next leg of their journey would be postponed.

"Hey. Quit with that look. I know that look, you're trying to blame yourself for all this. You didn't choose to get sick. It just happens. And it could have happened to anyone. Hylia knows we're all absolutely awful at taking care of ourselves. It was just bad luck that it happened to be you. So stop blaming yourself for this, alright?" Warriors gave a small smile as he playfully booped Mask's nose. Mask couldn't help but smile back. Seeing him happy, even as sick as he was, made Warriors feel as if a massive weight the size of Ganon himself had been lifted off his chest. If even he could smile at a time like this, then there was no way things wouldn't get better.

"Is he still awake?" Hyrule suddenly asked from the doorway as he and Legend entered the room, the former holding a bottle of some dull green— almost pond scum green— liquid.

"Yeah, come on in." Warriors said.

"Let me take this… and I'll get some more cold water for ya, kiddo." Legend grabbed the now lukewarm cloth from Mask's head and ran back out while Hyrule approached the side of the bed, pulling the cork out of the bottle. Mask grimaced as the strong smell of… was that grass? The strong smell of what Mask imagined old, wet, rotting grass would smell like filled the room. He could assume that was the medicine Warriors had mentioned, and he was really hoping it wasn't the kind he had to drink. Just the sight of it made him want to throw up, again (he knew he had before because of the taste in his mouth when he woke up. Still probably better than what this medicine would taste like, though).

"Here, drink this. It'll help with the fever and all that." Hyrule tried to hand it to him, but Mask recoiled at the gesture, not wanting to take it from him.

"Mask. You need to drink it. Do you need me to help you?" Warriors asked.

"It smells like death!" Mask protested.

"Yes, but it's actually the opposite. This is going to help you feel better, I promise. You know I wouldn't be giving it to you if it wasn't going to help." Hyrule urged. Mask still refused, crinkling up his nose in disgust.

"Oh for the love of Nayru, Sprite…" Warriors sighed exasperatedly, snatching the bottle from Hyrule's hand, "Can you sit up?" He asked the child. Mask shook his head in refusal.

"Mask. Sit up. I'm gonna give you five seconds to cooperate, and then I'm going to have to use force." Warriors warned.

"Wars, don't—" Hyrule butted in nervously.

"I'm not actually going to hurt him, Rule! What kind of monster do you think I am? I'm his father, I love him, I could never hurt him. I just need him to drink this and sometimes the only way to overcome his stubbornness is—"

"I can't!" Mask whined. Tears were brimming his big sapphire eyes, face screwed up as if he were holding back a sob, "I can't sit up. H-Hurts to move… It… It hurts…!" At those words, the obvious sincerity painted so clearly on Mask's face, Warriors' frustration melted, replaced immediately with remorse.

"I… I'm sorry, Sprite. Here. I'll help you." Warriors said, slipping a hand underneath the child's back and gently pushing him to a sitting position. Hyrule moved the pillows behind him to prop him up. Warriors then carefully raised the bottle to the kid's mouth, but again Mask turned away.

"Mask, please… I need you to drink this. I know it smells awful and it probably tastes awful too, but it will make you feel better, I promise." He begged.

"I don't wanna—!" Mask argued. He felt fine other than the fever and the aching. Why couldn't he just sleep it off?

"You have to!" Warriors urged, a little harsher than he meant to.

"Why?! Why can't I just sleep this off?!" Mask yelled back.

"BECAUSE—!" Warriors started to scream back, before he caught himself, realizing that getting into a shouting match with his sick son wouldn't help anything, "Because I'm scared, Sprite. You are really sick, and… I don't want to risk you having another seizure, or something worse. I don't want to lose you, Mask. So please, I am begging you. Drink the medicine. Even if it tastes horrible, you have to drink it."

It wasn't often that his dad actually admitted to being scared. It was about as rare as him letting himself cry; only when things were really, really bad. Because of this, Mask decided to just suck it up and drink the very smelly contents of the bottle. He turned his head back towards his dad, opening his mouth just enough that he could pour the liquid in. Mask immediately wanted to spit it out. It tasted far worse than it smelled, indescribably bad. Still, he forced himself to swallow, praying that the taste would leave his mouth soon.

"I'm back." Legend announced as he returned to the room once again, cloth re-soaked with cold water, and came to sit on Mask's other side, "I talked to Time, told him what happened. He agrees that we should stay at least another day or two until Mask recovers."

"Good. I think we could all use the extra rest anyway." Warriors nodded in agreement. Legend turned his attention back to Mask, feeling his forehead again.

"Seems like the fever is going down. That's good. Still a little warm, though…" He commented. He gently placed the cloth over the kid's head again. Mask flinched at the initial coolness of it, but after a few seconds it started to feel good against his burning hot skin.

"Hyrule and I got him to drink the medicine, so it should be gone soon. Now all we gotta do is wait…" Warriors sighed, giving a small smile as he gently rubbed his thumb over Mask's cheek. Mask leaned into it, resting his head against his father's hand, eyes beginning to droop sleepily.

"We should let him sleep. A seizure can take a lot out of a person, especially a kid. Plus sleep is the best way for him to get over this sickness." Legend said, noticing this. Warriors nodded in agreement, moving the pillows back so Mask could lay down all the way.

"Sleep well, little Calf." Legend said as he and Hyrule were leaving the room. Mask suddenly reached out, grasping at the end of his father's scarf with what little strength he could muster.

"Can you stay with me? I don't… I don't want to be alone." He whimpered.

"I wasn't going anywhere, Sprite." Warriors promised, curling up on the bed next to his son, "I'm staying here as long as you need me to." He grabbed the child's tiny hand that was still clinging to the dark blue fabric of his scarf, just holding it in his.

"SAILOR! Stop! Don't you dare bother him!" Legend's voice rang out down the hall, coupled with the pitter-patter of little running footsteps, getting closer and closer until a second small figure darted into the room, flopping onto the bed on Mask's other side and promptly throwing his arms around the one he considered a little brother.

"Wind!" Warriors scolded, "What are you doing here?! Mask needs to rest, and you're going to get sick too if you stay here."

"I don't care if I get sick, it's not like we're leaving until he gets better anyway! I just don't want him to be alone!" Wind argued.

"S'okay dad. I don't mind." Mask whispered, half-asleep. Wind snuggled up closer, smiling at his brother's approval. Warriors had no argument. It wasn't like he could force Wind out now.

"Fine. But if you get sick too, that's on you."

"You could get sick too, dumbass." Wind countered, though the word dumbass held a tone of affection and playfulness more than rudeness.

"I'm his father, I get a pass since it’s my job to be here for him.”

“Yeah well, I’m his brother so it’s technically my job too! Unless you’d rather I didn’t care at all.”

“...Touche, sailor.”

“Can you shut up? I’m tryna sleep…” Mask grumbled.

“Sorry, Sprite. I’ll be quiet.” Warriors said quietly, “And you. If you’re gonna stay in here, you better get to sleep too.” He whispered as he poked Wind lightly. All he got in response was a snore, however. Damn, the kid fell asleep fast. Warriors doubted he’d sleep at all tonight, his nerves being far too shot from the events of this evening, but someone needed to keep an eye on Mask anyway. He was glad the two kids were sleeping soundly, however.

“Sweet dreams, Sprite. Sailor.” He whispered.

Also Wolfie cuddles because yes

[rjalker]

almost forgot to write down my dream since it took so long to hook the wifi back up.

wow brain that sure was philosophical too bad it's wasted on meee

Anyways, feel free to use this as a writing prompt >.>

there was a group of people and they were all together as one group, friends or family or something like that, and they as a group discovered what they thought was an injured person, who'd fallen down a steep hill and injured its leg so it couldn't walk without help.

And people being people, they volunteered to help carry it back to the cave they were all camping out in (because they were poor, because they were camping for fun, or because it was the apocalypse, I don't know. I feel like it was post-apocalypse somehow.)

They spent three days and two nights talking to their guest, getting to know it, asking it where it'd been and sharing jokes. Their guest was friendly and open and was happy to share any information it could. They bandaged the wound on its leg and set it up with pillows and cushions so it would be comfortable sitting or lying down while it healed.

On the fourth morning, the morning person woke up before everyone else, like always. They went about their morning routine like normal and eventually everyone else woke up too. Except for their guest, who still seemed to be asleep. They were all fine with this, it's not like they had a schedule to keep, and sleeping would be good for healing, right?

Well. Eventually they decided to wake their guest up.

only to realize that it was dead.

And not even just "dead", it was completely immobile, frozen like stone. Like it had never been able to move in the the first place.

None of these people had ever seen any real dead people before, but they knew rigor mortis was a thing, so, shocked and upset, they assumed that that's all this was, and after a while of just...flipping out and trying to figure out what could possibly have happened to kill their friend (They hadn't had any open wounds for infection, hadn't seemed sick, hadn't been bitten by anything or eaten anything that could have killed them, hadn't shown any signs of allergies, nothing!) they collectively tried to get their wits together and decided to find a spot to bury it.

They didn't have any shovels or real digging tools, though, so that plan was quickly thrown out when they realized exactly how big of a hole would have to be dug to fit an entire body into it, so they instead opted to gather as many rocks as they could, dug a wide hole as deep as they could, and carried the body there. They covered it with the soil, and then piled the rocks they'd collected on top, not even entirely sure what the purpose of this was, but they'd seen it in movies and thought it'd be more respectful than just leaving the body out in the open somewhere, especially because they didn't want anyone stumbling upon it without warning.

And then...they got on with their lives, saddened and confused and scared but there wasn't anything they could do about it. They brought bucketfulls of water up to the cave to wash the parts their friend had touched in case of germs, and then just...kept on doing whatever it was they did all day.

At some point later, they met another group of travelers, who went on to tell them stories of robots who'd been created by "the DC" before the world ended, who could still sometimes be found wandering around if you got lucky. They looked like people, could walk and talk and could even eat and drink realistically. They were chatbots given the ability to walk around and move on their own, they could make facial expressions and everything...but they were still just chatbots.

They didn't really know anything.

They didn't know that they existed in the first place, let alone that their bodies were made of a synthetic material that could function almost indefinitely...as long as it was constantly moving in some way, flexing and stretching and reshaping the material.

Like walking, for instance.

The chatbot they'd found and thought they'd befriended was not aware of the fact that sitting and lying almost perfectly still for three days to help its injured knee heal would be enough to kill it. The material it was made of had to be kept in constant motion, or it would start to crystalize, and if it hardened past a certain point, the mechanical "brain" of the robot would be destroyed.

None of them had known that in trying to help the chatbot, they'd be assuring its destruction.

And it wasn't a person, it was just a chatbot, so it hadn't even been aware of the fact that it was dying. It wasn't even aware of the fact that it existed in the first place.

[mejomonster]

Maybe happy health news

So I'd been dealing with POTS symptoms (and still sorta am). But basically fainting, dizziness, and the worst ones for me to deal with which were intense fatigue and my heart rate was 120-150 bpm when standing doing nothing. 120+ sitting, when trying to work. Heart rate would go to resting normal range of under 100 if I laid down. That was it.

My doctor got me compression socks, salt tablets (to take when dizzy/fatigued), and recommended to keep taking electrolytes too. So I did his advice. We figured out my worst fatigue tends to coincide with a very low blood pressure, and he told me to take more salt those days/more electrolytes (which has so far helped a TON... so far no more fainting, collapsing, and I've been able to actually go for a walk or take my nieces somewhere or drive or stand up long enough to grocery shop). I also started a POTS exercise protocol, cause I figured I could tolerate it since occasionally on a low fatigue day I could still walk or dance a little while. The protocol was strength training (mainly abs and legs) and cardio. Honestly I just did the strength training, since my goal was to dance again like normal so anytime I felt good enough to stand more than 5 minutes I TRIED to dance/walk so I figure for the cardio/heart rate targets I was probably already doing something close.

I also started orilissa for endometriosis. Now I don't know if endo causes tachycardia. But if it does? Then wow fuck does treating it help. I've been on it 2.5 weeks and my bloating is finally going down a little, pain is down 40%, I can eat reliably again. So like... to be fair idk if the POTS treatment things im doing are helping or the orilissa as far as fatigue and tachycardia.

But something is making a dent! My blood pressure hasn't dropped as low as often (great news for my fatigue), and the quick fix of "take more electrolytes and salt if it is low" also seems to fix the low blood pressure (and lessen my fatigue and dizziness) within an hour or so. The strength training is I think one of the Most helpful things? After about 2 weeks of strength training I was able to Stop wearing compression socks (the compression socks were helping my heart rate go about 20 bpm lower - so if I'm normally 130 resting heart rate, it was letting my resting heart rate sit at 110 which was helpful). Now, without compression socks, TODAY my resting standing heart rate was 61-82 bpm!!!! NORMAL RANGE BABY

My fatigue today was also reasonably low. I'm not at 100% of what I used to be able to do but I was maybe an 8/10 of my old normal today (so like... if in the past I had a day I ran on 5 hours sleep but managed to get everything done and go out? That's how I felt today). Whereas I have been sitting at 5-6/10 energy level on my usual good days (can sit up okay for work with breaks to lie down, maybe do 1 necessary task involving standing like dishes or shower, maybe do 1 small activity like a walk around block or dance for 5 minutes or hang out with friends for 2ish hours before I'm exhausted). And my bad days last month I've been a fucking 2-3 (collapsing, unable to work, unable to stay awake and sleeping a lot, but able to function and focus sometimes though exhausted when lying down). So like....what I managed to do today is fucking phenomenal for me. It's a usual person's tiring day!!! It's an amount of tasks I used to be able to do!!! I only had to sit down and rest a few times!!!

The past few days my resting heart rate has been really fucking good - for me. It's been 60s at least a little bit, which is just awesome to even see. Last week it was at like 90-110 resting heart rate without compression socks (and 80-100 with compression socks). So these past few days, for it to be mostly under the 100 range? Awesome (overall it's going from 60-120 but mostly its around 80-100 now which is great and what my heart rate USED to be when standing and resting before I got this year of being sick). So yeah, future me, not sure what you're doing right specifically but if you get worse reference this because there's definitely Something significantly helping.

[aamethyst000]

Dude, im so bored but lazy (may 14,24 3:58pm)

holy hell, i could not get to sleep last night. i was tossing and turning, too cold then too warm. could not get comfy for the life of me. there was an itchy spot in my throat that would not go away, even after drinking half a cup of water. i was so irritated the majority of the night. i think i actually fell asleep at like 6am this morning, finally woke up at ten to two this afternoon. like what the hell, was it because i missed a a whole week of my anti depressants? probably. mostlikey. anyway. it was so irritating that i was debating whether or not i should even get up, just sleep some more. my body made the decision for me, i couldnt go back to sleep even if i tried. so, i got up, took the dogs out and made a pot of coffee. im not going to lie, even through all of that, i currently feel neutral about having a hard time sleeping last night. usually, id be in a bad mood throughout the day but nope, just neutral. no irritation or happiness. that normal? not that id know. me and the family tend to have shit sleep schedule. especially me and the cousins. it makes meeting up with them difficult for the both of us lol as irritating as it is, i think i should stop getting mad at that. they work and have a family now, so yeah priorities are all jumbled which is okay. mine arent set in stone either lmao i dont know how my older cousins did it, learning how to be a functional adult, taking care of your body more, eating healthier and whatnot. im bloody 25, going to be turning 26 in june and i still feel like im 16-17. is that normal as well? does it depend on the individual? i keep saying i should talk to my thereapist but i never call them. or even message them. summer's coming up so i think thattl be the best time for me to start up my thereapy sessions again. i dont even want to do my laundry, how lazy im feeling, like i know i have to get them done at some point before they pile up again but i just dont want to lol like those goddamn dishes i keep avoiding like the plaque. thats the only thing i dont like about adulthood. endless dishes, laundry and house cleaning every other week and every month. oh and the bloody over priced bills that we now have to pay. welp, onto my second cup of coffee and sit around in my room for a bit till i decide to write in my journal again. whenever that will be. typing on my keyboard seems to be stimulating for me, i almost dont want ot stop.could be old habit from being in highschool, writing a long ass page for my essay and presentaions (god i hated those with a fckn PASSION). being able to type now feels nice, i dont have to go on my phone to write my journal entries in now, i love it so much <3 anyway, back to laying about and being lazy :3

3:01am - it looks like that i wont get much sleep tonight again tonight. so im going to have a few puffins and watch some sherlock funny moments, or i just might play orcarina of time, the 3D version of it. to be honest, im on the lookout for almost every verion of sherlock holmes, in books, tv shows, and movies. i think im becoming obsessed lol not that i mind it. im living vicariously through either sherlock or john. i think mostly john lmao i dont think i can be that brilliant at solving crimes and puzzles. heck i can barely solve a fckn math problem without having a breakdown mid way through the paper, thank god i graduated. i will not have to go through that again, unless i get back into coding. which i do not think so, considering that it involves aboslute complicated M A T H. i despise math, if you couldnt tell lmao any who, i think i am done here, i just wanted to come back and finish the last little bit of my journal entry, i may add on to this tomorrow. i havent decided on that just yet. like i keep sayin, i really like typing on my keyboard lol i might get over this later on in my life, just not now. cause my god, it is very stimulating to type~ have a good night/day, my fellow readers~

may 16,24 12:36pm - so i decided to add more to this journal entry, i dont know how much right now but maybe ill decide later on or once i am done writing. today was weird. i woke up late again, at one thirty this time and my mood was okay, manageable. until i went to go eat at like 6pm (first meal) and also cook my mother lunch. at first, i only felt over heated. then i started getting a small pinch like cramp on the right side of my hip, then, i felt more over heated. i was sweating, i felt like i couldnt breathe, my appetite dropped but i forced myself to eat anyway (for obvious reasons), i came back to my room to open my window, take off my shirt and see if that helps me cool off. mind you, that took forever, like, to the point of the voices in my head getting louder and mean. i tried so hard to ignore it that i even whisperd shut up. obviously that didnt help, considering that i started crying afterwards. i think i remember seeing clear images in my head too, pictures of horrible things, for sure, but that was the first time in a long time that has ever happened. not since my very last anxiety attack. that was nearly 3 yeaars ago now, even i thought i was getting better, this feels like i took a couple steps backwards. which did not help with my breakdown. im not going to go into too much detail about what i went through today. just know that this one breakdown took a lot out of me. i almost wanted to ioslate myself the rest of the evening. i didnt, that would have raised way more human interactions than i personally wanted, so i tried to act like i was "normal" i never knew what that really, genuinly looked like so i dont know if i did well in that department. anyway, i marked this event down in my personal journal for my therapist to read over. hopefully that can help me figure out what method could work for me in the future. i get the feeling ill end up sleeping in tomorrow too. because of today, that is all i want to do. is just sleep. its the middle of the week though, got dishes to wash, dinner to prep and an appointment to make later on. i wihs i can take off from here for a week. maybe even 3 months would be fine. go to a cabin in the woods, smoke, read, watch movies, not have to worry about other peoples dishes other than my own, not have to worry about what conversations i have to prepare myself for, how muc enerygy i have to use up even though i do not have enough throughout the day. i just want a break from being an adult. anyway i think that is enough for the night so im going to sign off and rest as much i can. cause that felt like a lot. good night/day, readers

[panzershrike-pretz]

HI PRETZ! okay, for the ask game, how about fire, spring, and dna for your oc hugh? i loved his moodboard so i totally need to know more about him!

HI BLUUUUUU!!!! Ahhhhh, i'm so happy you liked my bee boy🥺💕💕💕 he's definetely one of my favorite babies!!

This got lONG, so to the read more abyss it goes

FIRE -> what’s one thing they’d destroy if they could, and why? would that destruction bring them any satisfaction or catharsis?

Hugh is one of the most gentle and caring aboard Blithe; he never showed any agression towards anyone and seems able to push through anything with a good and friendly nature. He doesn't have many enemies and the ones he has are just the common ones (Wights, Hollows, the Navy, pirate hunters and those things).

While he may not love authority figures such as sailors and cops - or anything to do with law enforcement, really -, he understands that they are needed even if he sees them as a nuisance who get in the way of his line of work - and he knows damn well he's not the "good guy" either for being a pirate, so he wouldn't destroy any of that if given the chance. Yes he hates the threat of a noose around his neck but if only him (and some other pirates, mostly not "good" like his friends) being free would put the rest of the world in potential dangers, it's not fair.

Now, while he still respescts those no-majs aspects of life that are unavoidable, what Hugh would seek to destroy is not a physical place or a specific job - it's an entire breed that exists solely for the purpose of hurting both him and other peculiars. So he can't exactly aim a cannon to a building, shoot, watch it fall and call it a day.

Hugh's problem with Wights and Hollows (even if he has a friend who's a Wight and knows three separate Hollows who aren't out for blood) is not a personal thing, but more of a conditional fear and hatred he was already born with to survive - same with other peculiars, it's an instinct.

It's not anything he can do something about (unless you hand him a buttom that'll make every Hollow and Wight in the world disappear forever on the spot), but it's still a thing he wishes he had the power to stop.

If he really could destroy both entire species, he would jump at the opportunity - not happily, as he'd lose good ol' Black Jack, but he'd still do it. It would be obviously hard on him, being the reason many died, but his options would be that or let those monsters roam free, killing for their own personal little plans and potentially causing more long-term harm than they already do on a normal basis.

Hugh wouldn't want the fame of freeing the magical world or any kind of medal or trophy; he'd want peace and quiet to grieve and think. He'd be glad to finally roam a street without fear eating him alive, but at the same time he'd feel immense guilt.

SPRING -> what does your OC miss most? will they ever be reunited? how would they feel about that?

He misses being a "normal" child, but at the same time wouldn't like to try again on life and miss out on what he conquered.

Hugh misses his old home in Virginia, where he was born and adopted by Sirius and Michael. He misses walking on tall grass and eating honey straight from a bee's nest. He misses simply sleeping between his dad's on the sun and misses Sirius telling him to be quiet on the morning's after a Full Moon, so he wouldn't wake Micah.

It was a simpler life, when he wasn't so scarred and traumatized, and it was good.

But he still loves the present, where he's deeply in love with this german girl who loves him just as much and he can fly like a busy lil' bee around Blithe's sails.

He wonders a lot about how life would've been if he just stayed at home back in 1942 - and he's kind of scared of the idea? He would've miss out on so much. He's a 90-something kid, unable to grow old but who still saw a lot on his lifetime and he wouldn't change a thing (even if it meant he'd still have 4 legs, 2 eyes and a functioning nose KAKAKAKA)

DNA -> does your OC believe in fate or destiny? what about soulmates? is this all a coincidence?

Somewhat? I mean, in a world full of magic, you can expect anything. He already saw prophecies happen first-hand and even saw one of his own friends having a Prophetic Episode in front of him, so I like to believe he does think fate/destiny are real.

As for soulmates, Hugh's case in which both him and Fiona are each other's first and only partners, I think he'd agree with the whole soulmate idea. He likes romance and the idea that him and Fiona would meet in every timeline, no matter what, and still fall in love each time.

He's seen plenty relationships going wrong, tho, and I guess he's the type that would think that a soulmate is not supposed to be only the romantic kind. They could be your friend, your sibling or anyone, really, that in every universe would somehow be connected to you. He likes to think this is true

[macherienicolai]

Someone asked,

“Do you like someone?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

I could have said ‘No’— but i didn’t, instead i said, “I have never truly liked someone.” while a tear escaped my eyes. I don’t understand why i said that, and why i cried. Yet i cried more while trying to laugh it out. Then that person asked me, why was i crying. Why?

I’m crying because i couldn’t give an answer to the question, but my mind traveled and i was overwhelmed by my overthinking. I was shocked by the question. My brain was full of thoughts yet there was no answer. What was on my mind? i’m asking myself why, in my brain full of thoughts and worries, i’ve never even think about love, or like being in a relationship.

My mind was full of “I’m still not sure about college, i don’t know if i can make it through this semester, i think my grades are failing, my brain doesn’t function and i can’t understand anything in maths and chemistry. There’s going to be research, and research defenses. I’m not too proud that i’ll have a successful career. What if i’m not able to pay for my siblings tuition in the future? I want a good paying job so i can have enough money to provide them, since i have too. But i want to live alone, and i want a peaceful job where i can enjoy what i do, i won’t care if i’ll live in mediocrity, i just want peace. I feel so pathetic, because i want run away from my responsibilities.”

All of this thoughts.

I’m crying because i don’t want to worry about this, i want to worry about things such as “I wasn’t able to see my crush today.” “Let’s hangout after class.” “My situation-ship is difficult.” “He likes someone else.” Things like these. I want to feel like a teenager. I wanna live in the moment. I wanna have fun. But having i truly can’t have fun without feeling guilty, “Why am i doing this instead of studying?” “Why am i having fun when i’m going to be just a disappointment?”

These days, these thoughts have been just going on in my mind. To the point that i wasn’t able to do anything, just sleep, wake up, eat, watch in my laptop, then sleep again. How miserable. Is that how’s it going to be? Am i going to live in such miserable life because i can’t get what i want? I should just accept my life, but why does have to be difficult to feel like a normal teenager? Can i ever experience waking up without worrying about this and that?? This cycle is never going to end.

[drpeppertummy]

All for both moe and Jan

omg u guys & ur big long questions [thank u !!!!!!!!!!!!!] [im just doing jan since i already answered moe] [thank u for inquiring about my weird guy i rotate him in my brain 10 hours a day]

👖 Will they undo their belt or unbutton their pants to relieve pressure on their belly, or will they suffer through it until they can get changed? - he'll undo it if hes home alone but if anyone else is around hes gonna suffer through

🫳 How do they respond--physically, verbally, emotionally, etc--to belly rubs? - hes a pretty socially uncomfortable person & most people wouldnt even think hed Want belly rubs but i think he would appreciate them, even if he had No idea how to respond. i think hed get all tense & stiff & just kinda Sit Still with a neutral expression until it started makin him sleepy & then he might settle in a little

🤒 Are they prone to tummyaches? If so, for any particular reason? If not, what circumstances DO they get tummyaches in? - he doesnt have any like Serious Major Intolerances but there are a number of things that make his tummy feel Not Awesome, & he doesnt tend to eat much so it doesnt take a lot for him to be Too Full

🤤 Do they have a favorite thing to be full of? Not necessarily a favorite thing to eat, but something that feels good in their belly? - fruit. the thing he tends to go most wild on is butter pecan ice cream its one of his major weaknesses but he does not feel great afterwards. fruit on the other hand he loves And he feels fine even after having a little too much

🤢 Is there anything in particular that does NOT feel good in their belly? How much of it can they eat, if any? - Many Things. not even 100% sure what specifically but a bunch of stuff. since none of it has any Severe Effects he doesnt always bother to worry about it but generally it takes a little bit of some irritant to make him feel a little bloaty & adr but still manageable, and probably about a solid serving size to take him out

🤼 Are their friends & loved ones more likely to be urging them to eat more, or to stop eating so much? Why? - he has a small appetite & hes pretty thin so people are usually encouraging him to eat more

🎂 Are there any foods that they only have on certain occasions? Do they go overboard when they have the chance? - i think there are probably certain things that he only has when he visits back home that he might have a little too much of bc he knows it might be a while before next time. seasonal fruits i think probably get him too but he has a little more restraint with that since he has more time to have some

📐 What's the shape of their belly like when it's full and bloated? - fairly small, kinda top-heavy, just pushes out a little bit. slightly rounded. Tight-Lookin

🛌 Can they carry on like normal on a too-full belly, or do they need to take a break? - he'll try but if hes Really Stuffed hes gonna need to sit down a minute

🍗 How well do they function on an empty stomach? Can they go about their tasks, or do they need to stop and eat? - he can go fine without eating for a while. he might not be happy about it but he'll survive

🥘 How hungry do they typically get before finally eating? Do they have any choice in the matter? - hes pretty good about keeping on top of his meal schedule & hes typically able to do so unless hes on some funny work schedule, & then he might have to go hungry for a while

🗣️ Who's more likely to speak up about being hungry first--them, or their belly? - definitely his belly. he doesnt speak up about much of anything

🍳 If they come home tired and starving, are they taking the time to make food, eating something quick, or going straight to bed? Is whatever they do enough? Is it too much? - i think he'll have a tiny bit of something quick & then go to bed. he might not be sufficiently full but he has a nebulous relationship with sleep so if hes tired hes goin for it

🫄 How likely are they to overeat? Are there any particular circumstances where it happens? - i think if hes hanging out with people [rare occasion] he might wind up eating a little too much & potentially wind up with a sore tummy

🍽️ How likely are they to go without eating enough? Are there any particular circumstances where it happens? - usually only if hes like out & busy & either cant find a minute to have something or is too focused on the task at hand

🥡 Do they usually bring home leftovers if they go out to eat, or do they manage to clean their plate? - he probably brings home more than he eats

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 Do their eating habits change around other people compared to when they're alone? In terms of quantity, what they choose to eat, how they eat it, etc? Does this have any positive or negative effects on them? - i think when hes around other people he tends to eat more, either bc he feels like hes expected to or bc someones pushin him to have a little more, & then he winds up Too Full & probably full of things that upset his tummy & he needs to go home & have some tea & sleep it off