#literally fuck this maybe i do need to go inpatient and just fuck around for a couple weeks

[exmeowstic]

art sucks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[saikoucorps]

JECKOLE <3

☆ pairings : nicole x jecka (emicole mentioned)

☆ category : angst / almost no comfort

ꪆ୧ summary : nicole realizes how jealous jecka gets over emily, and she may or may not have mutual feelings for her. (part two(?) of the previous post, read part one. This is told in Nicole's pov.. so not really a part two.)

:ఌ¨ ♱ warning(s): nicole is oblivious and very gay (may be OOC I'm not used to writing for Nicole ( ´△｀) )

☆ Another lecture. Nicole was stuck listening to Jecka complain about how she has a new friend. She didn't understand why she was so worried about this. It's not like they were dating, or whatever couples argue about.

"God Nicole, you can't be serious right now."

No, she can't be serious. This is all fucking ridiculous.

"Dude why the fuck does it matter? You're not my only friend."

Nicole wanted to leave. She wanted to walk away from this conversation like she does with every other one of her problems. This wasn't worth her time— why the fuck is she so bothered?

"That's not the fucking issue here. She's crazy, Nicole. She's a bad influence."

Literally anyone could be crazy if you looked hard enough, almost all women are. Plus, Nicole was worse. Did she really just say she's a bad influence, has she met Nicole?

"Bad influence— what the fuck are you my mother? I'll hang out with whoever I want. You sound like a insecure boyfriend right now."

Jecka went silent. Maybe she was thinking about how gay she sounds. This shouldn't be a conversation in the first place.

"Whatever Nicole. You're either gonna end up dead or in fucking jail because of her."

"I'm gonna end up dead either way, not my problem."

The rest was a blur, Nicole had walked away. Something she probably should've done earlier. Why did she let that drag for so long?

It didn't matter anyways. She was being a bitch for no reason. Emily wasn't even that bad. She was crazy, yes. But it's what made her cooler. And she was hot as hell, hotter than her! What isn't there to like about Emily? Maybe Jecka is just mad she's better. Well, kind of. She wasn't going to place bets.

"Yo Nicole! Over here!" Emily was across the cafeteria, waiting for her. Due to remedial classes, they have lunch way later than everyone else. That doesn't stop them though, they still skip for regular lunch. It's unfortunately how Nicole ended up in that lame argument.

They continued to hang out over the next few days, getting into all kinds of trouble. It was fun, Emily was fucking awesome to be around. Nicole rarely saw Jecka around. She didn't really care or realize it. But, she did know she had cigarettes on her.

"Hey, so, you got any cigarettes right now?"

"No. But I know someone who does. I'll be right back."

They were at lunch again, Emily needed to smoke apparently. Nicole knew Jecka always had cigarettes on her.

"Yo dude, do you have any cigarettes on you?"

Jecka just stared at Nicole with this look. Nicole couldn't really describe it. She looked mad, shocked, and disappointed all at once. Nicole didn't realize that though.

"Are you fucking serious Nicole."

Nicole didn't have time for this right now, knowing Emily she probably gets inpatient really fast.

"What? Seriously I'm in a hurry—"

"No Nicole, I don't. Maybe you should fucking ask Emily."

"I'm asking for her dipshit."

"Whatever. We're done Nicole, don't fucking talk to me."

"Is this over the cigarette? Dude it was just a question—"

Great. Jecka walked off. Whatever, she'll just have to tell Emily there's no cigarette. Wait, did she seriously just end their friendship? Over what, a cigarette? A question? What the hell?

"Sorry man. No cigarette."

"Great. Just fucking great. I'll have to suck off one of the teachers here for one, or the guys. Shit, Nicole maybe one of them can get me one for free? I'm hot enough, yeah?"

"Yeah dude, totally."

Nicole was pretty quiet the rest of the day. She tried to think of every reason possible, what the hell is she so worried for? And why does Nicole care so much?

This shouldn't bug her. She'll just switch schools anyways so what's the issue? Jecka is just.. another person she meets.

So why did it hurt so much?

There wasn't any communication from them for a while. Neither of them had the guts to say anything. Nicole didn't realize shit until she heard Ari in the bathroom. She was talking about a crush she had on one of the girls here, and how everything she did mattered to Ari. Like she wanted to make her happy, or something. It hit Nicole, is that what Jecka felt like? Did Jecka like her? No, did Nicole like her? Nicole didn't care, yet she realized what was wrong.

Nicole didn't care, yet she was willing to apologize.

Nicole liked Jecka, and Jecka supposedly felt the same. Well, she thinks anyways. She just knows she has to apologize. She didn't care, but for Jecka, she did.

So Nicole opened her phone, just to text her.

"hey"

"sorry"

[autumnbell32]

*tw: depression, SI talk

I Don't Wear Mascara Anymore

I want to live, I just can't handle living at this point. And trying to explain that distinction to doctors is tricky business. "Please help me BEFORE I get to this point," I've begged over and over again. Even when you aren't at that point, even mentioning that point is risky because there isn't any room for talking about it. I can't speak for everyone, but living in the silence of long term mental illness is deafening- you literally lose any source of human noise around you. People stop understanding you, people expect you to stop talking about it even though it puts a grey veil over all of your days, people blame you, people get frustrated, people go away. Especially if it has been a long battle. I didn't choose this battle, but the fact that I keep choosing to fight it also gets stifled in the silence.

I sent a message to my doctor a few days ago telling him that these mood cycles- especially since they are happening around my period almost every month- aren't sustainable for me anymore. No one should expect me just to be ok with building myself up for two weeks out of the month, only to fall again for the last two weeks. I'm trying to do my part- I workout three days a week, I still go to work, etc etc etc. I walk talk and breathe. I slip up, though, when the symptoms are bad- I numb out with glucose because there isn't really any comfort in my life. And I'm in therapy to address that. I made my motivation very clear in the message- I will do more work to lessen the symptoms of this illness, but I can't do it alone and I can't continue on this particular path. I need my doctor's help- maybe he needs to recognize that functioning does not nullify suffering. I'm suffering immensely.

I was met with a call from the nurse saying I needed to go to the ER. "Why? I'm not su*cidal, I'm not going to hurt anyone else, and the doctor said I'm medication resistant so what would the point be? I don't fit the criteria." The nurse put me on hold and put an NP, who I have never in my life talked to, on the phone to school me on the legality of making sure I'm safe. And to ask me what I expect an 8-5 doctor's office to actually do for me. And to tell me she wasn't even sure there is anything that could help me anymore.

The answer can't always be hospitalization, there are a lot of us that are resilient but still suffering and I wish doctors would stop being comfortable with their script pads and inpatient orders. There is a portion of us that that does not help anymore, so we get written off in another way. Maybe it is just the people in my life, I'd be so glad to know that others struggling with long term mental illness have people to be patient with them and remind them of who they are. But people in my life are ok with me remaining silent and hidden. Realizing that you might be another face that fades someday because of a mental illness is an immediate gut drop. Every time I have realized that possibility, I see myself standing at the mouth of some source of human existence and I swear I feel ego death (and not in a good way).

After seeing my screen name in a depression support chat, another member noted that it is a reference to a piece of classic literature. "Yes, it is," I responded. And then I cried, because intractable mental illness makes you forget yourself- your preferences, your humanity (you become walking pain). You lose your visibility. Even if you do remember, those things aren't easily accessible when sick. Jesus, even I am getting sick of talking about all of this. Scream into the void long enough, and you are going to lose your fucking voice.

My name is Ashley and I love classic literature and horror movies and warm, rainy days and the smell of peonies and baking and helping others and weird 80s-inspired synth music and running and animals. I'm hoping that, someday in the near future, I will want to fill my apartment with plants and be semi-good at trail running and I will want to write most days and I will have a partner that will show me what love without immense pain looks like and I will want to cook for myself more and I will be able to travel and I will be able to recover some of the life that I have lost. My name is Ashley and, someday soon, I hope that I will be able to make it through a day without crying.

[sincelastsession]

Today was shit.

The loudness factor has been insane. I live right next to the pool.

I called my mom freaking out. Honestly it is an unreasonable amount of noise and screaming coming from adults and children and every fucking noise canceling thing and sedative med isn't working. I literally just need to fucking move and AND the stairs are terrible on my fucked up joints back and hip issue.

I tried to have a D/s dynamic with Matt today and he's been a shit head basically not paying attention and he's human we fuck up I get it but today I needed him.

Justin fuckin messaged me about this good time he was having today and so I called because I don't want to text and fuck I don't want to type everything out but text to speech isn't working today because I need a new phone. Which my father promised to help me with.

Anyway then Justin immediately says he has company and can't talk....but he could text me and tell me a teaser line of his day so I'd talk to him?

Fuck I'd planned to say hi just because I wanted to but fuck him.

Petty ass man.

Hannah just told me she took benadryl and slept all day like she needed a fucking award.

I need help. I need to move. I hate living around the loudness.

I understand nobody can afford shit.

THEN MY MOTHER ASKS ME IF SHE WERE TO MOVE TO A BIGGER HOUSE AND HAVE AN ATTACHED HOUSE TO HER HOUSE DO I WANNA LIVE THERE????

She's either lost her mind or fallen for another fucking scam artist who she thinks loves her and wants to visit and see her in person and give her money and spoil her.

I have had to prove her wrong twice if not more than that and she has lost money to these people and other scammers people that said they were the governmentI have had to prove her wrong twice if not more than that and she has lost money to these people and other scammers people that said they were the government

This is insane I am so tired I just want to live in peace and quiet and be left to fuck alone so I can have time with my partner and many other that are peaceful and normal.

I asked my mom to talk to my dad about moving me and she sent me these screen captures which I will share with you. The green text is my mother the other text is my father.

The thing is my mom could very well help him out and she does max out her credit cards and she is addicted to shopping and that is why she as far as I'm aware has not helped very much on paying to help me have a place to live.

She has a job my dad currently does not.

This is all very distressing because the noise and the support beam and all the things I'm worried about are just too much and I really just need something simple and quiet.

I'm terrified that I'm going to end up in a inpatient facility again. I'm scared I'm going to lose my cool and flip the fuck out on some loud inconsiderate people.

I don't think that any of this is fair to me. I understand that people deal with worse but I am not those people and their life is not my life.

I'm sure that this makes me look spoiled but it's far from that. Because no one gives me money for anything I don't ask for money. All I'm asking for is for help getting a different apartment and patience with me while I get better to a baseline where I can operate or maybe I could get a fucking job and help everybody out so I don't have to rely on them.

I'm so fucking upset.

I have tried to sedate myself with my medicine like I'm supposed to take it and it didn't work today and I flipped out.

Idk what to say rn.

[schmope-is-dead]

I officially turn 15 in like. 5 hours 🧍‍♂️

anyway

I’m off my meds but I think at this point I just. prefer it yk

like. I’d rather be angry and lash out at people rather than just be pacified. I want to yell at someone and I want to scream. I want to drink until my head feels like I’m drowning

and most of all I think that I just really hate therapists. like, my current therapist isn’t as bad as my previous ones, right? but god she’s just so stupid

in our first session, I found out that she doesn’t actually know which disorders are in the dsm5. which yeah, I guess that could be me having the whole psychology spin, but I don’t think it’s that fucking hard!! it’s not even the diagnostic criteria, it’s just the bullet points of the book. I’m a teen who hasn’t even finished high school yet, and she’s a licensed therapist!! what the fuck lmao!!

and I guess that could be excused if she actually tried. yk. she’s always going “oh surely you have x y and z”, and when I try to correct her and tell her that I fit the symptoms and general diagnostic criteria of a different disorder, she’ll go on a whole thing about statistics, even when she’s wrong about the fucking statistics. like what the hell?? I thought this was therapy, not a goddamn math class

or how she always interrupts me and goes on about how her wife is doing, or how her son is doing, or how she just haaas to text her sister during our session. I mean, maybe if you actually talked to me, you would see what I’m trying to tell you!! you would see that deep down I am not a fucking empathetic person. I hate everyone and deep down I hold the belief that I’m better than everyone around me. and maybe you’d actually benefit from, I don’t know, hearing me out about how I’m not some perfect kid, I’m a deeply flawed man who simply hides behind my natural child-like mannerisms to make people like me.

I’m mature. I’m more mature than a lot of adults I know. I’ve prevented three people from committing suicide in the past two years. I even loathed one of them at the time, I only did it because I knew it was “right”. I’ve manipulated my way to get out of an inpatient, after realizing that they had no intent to help me. I’ve had to keep my little sibling out of trouble because our failures of parents couldn’t care to. I’ve cleaned up after my parents when they’ve invited their friends over to drink and just couldn’t be bothered to clean up after themselves. I’ve made dinner for them and my sibling when they’re simply too tired to. I’ve put aside my own mental issues for years simply because it wouldn’t fit with what my mom believes we need for our family image. I don’t require people’s pity or help, and I only take their pity or help because I can. I realize that this is exactly what a stereotypical teenager would say, but I don’t know how else to say it. the only reason some people view me as more of a kid is because I let them. I’m very aware of every little action I do, and I rarely miss.

do I feel terrible about the child I let other people see me as? sometimes. I know that I was supposed to be that child, that I was supposed to just continue with a regular development until I became a mechanical or software engineer. I know that I should’ve grown up to sure, still have some trauma, but I feel like I’ve been 20 for the past three years. other times, I feel like I’m sick. any time that I drop the façade of some immature child, my friends call me insane. my friend andy, they always try to talk softly to me, like we’ve gone down from high school to pre school. my friend cooper, he just tells me to “start acting like his friend”. my friend dyllyn, he acts like I’m having a heart attack. my friend joey, she just starts laughing and telling me no, like I’m a toddler who didn’t know what I was saying.

some days I just wish that I could soft restart. that they would all just accept that I’m still their friend, the one who literally carried their grades and babied them for years, but that I’ve been lying about my real personality. it’s fucking tiring. the boy they see me as, the popular, funny, helpful, and smart Charlie, never existed. he’s just a persona that I wear when I’m at school. but I know that they’d never accept charlie, the teenager who thinks of them all as friends, sure, but friends who are generally oblivious in life. the teenager who wishes that he was taken more seriously, seeing as he’s had to just pull himself through situations that have made all children’s therapists in the area give up on him.

sometimes my life just feels like some cruel joke. like there’s some kind of sadistic god up there who thinks it’s fun to force me to put on the act of a child in the mindless drivel of situations that would befall some oc named clarence made by a 12 year old girl learning what angst is for the first time

[nightowlfandom]

Keith (Voltron)- Heat Season

EDIT- I took off the “AU” part because I legit forgot what I was doing lol. No AU here

Hey hey! ANON ASKS

omg. can u do a keith x reader mating szn smut? like it’s his first heat so he locked himself away(f’s in the chat for keith) but the reader went to check on him not knowing a thing(gasp!). keith rlly do be rough at first bc he’s not thinkin straight but then becomes more ✨passionate✨ rough smut at first, then some tenderness(like my dino nuggets. lmao im 20), but then heated passionate smut. *chefs kiss* oui oui baggett

Keith from Voltron?....Cuz that’s what I’m doing for my mental health....And I’m going to hope and pray that’s what you wanted....cuz im doing it. Prepare your diddly hole....that sounded wrong. Hope you like it! 

BTW You caught me on an off day, but I didn’t wanna leave you hanging.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo!

...

You were confused as to why everyone had insisted you go check up on Keith. Then again the last thing you said to him before he locked himself in his room for 3 days was. 

“Wow, it’s so hot in here. I need to change out of these clothes.”

It was a throwaway comment that usually earned you a laugh or two from him. Only this time, it ended with him taking one look at you, and zooming off. Three whole days since then and it felt like you were the only one who wasn’t aware of what was going through his head.

So here you were, standing outside his door. You hesitated for a while, frozen in place.

“He’s your friend.” you declared. “You can do this!” you nodded with determination. You slowly raised your hand and knocked. 

“Fuck!” you heard on the other side. “W-Who’s there!”

“It’s me?” you answered, slowly becoming unsure. “Is it a bad time?”

“Y/N!” he grunted. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you! P-please let me in.” you sighed. 

“Y/N! It isn’t safe for you to be here!” he sounded in pain.

“Keith! It’s either you let me in or I melt the door down!” you warned. "I have a lighter on me, don’t test whether or not I’m serious.”

Suddenly the door slid open. Without another thought you walked in. His room looked normal. “Keith?”

Just as you got in, the door slammed shut, making you jump. A shirtless Keith stumbled out of the bathroom. His face was completely red and he was sweating. Without a pause, you rushed over to him.

“Y/N!” Keith shuddered. “P-please don’t-”

“Keith!” you cut him off. “You’re burning up!” you put a hand on his forehead. For some reason, he leaned into your touch. He shuddered, his eyes glazing over slowly. This was a side of his you’ve never seen before.

It wasn’t long bore you managed to connect the dots. You couldn’t stop the blush from rising onto your face. “Oh.” was all you could say.

“Y/N...” he dropped to his knees. “I’m so sorry.” he whimpered. “It’s...t-too much.” he moaned. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

He rested his head against your stomach. “I want you so bad.” he cried. Like literally cried. “I c-can’t control it.” he whimpered.

“Keith? Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you, I could’ve-.”

“The only reason I didn’t tell you was because in order to calm it down...I’d have to...have my way with the object of my aggression.” you could tell he was very ashamed. It then dawned on you what he meant when he said he wanted you.

“And...that’s me?” you clarified, voice shaking.

He buried his face into your stomach, tightening his grip around you. “Yes...”

“...Then do it.” you found yourself saying. This caused him to look up in surprise.

“You just made a big mistake, Y/N.” he glowered. A sadistic smile arose on his face. “You just opened yourself up to me.” he scrambled to his feet. Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the door. “Which means I can do whatever I want to you now.”

Keith grabbed a handful of your hair in his fist and bought your lips to his. You winced in pain, feeling him tighten his grip, as if he was scared to let you go. He must have detected this because he moved his hand to the side of your neck. 

Your body was flush against the wall and he was pressed against you, covering your body like a blanket. He yanked himself away from you and hoisted you up. 

Keith carried you to his bed and practically threw you on the plush surface. In that instant, the tables were flipped. Instead of looking up at you through hooded eyes with a shameful gaze, it was you who was now looking up at him.  Keith stared down at you with a glare. You probably looked ridiculous, but you didn’t care. 

“How do you want me?” you found yourself asking. 

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Just hearing you say that sent him crazy. He could smell sex coming off you, and he wanted to get his hands on you. His mouth, his dick, whatever he could touch you with. He could barely gather his thoughts. Every corner of his mind was occupied by visions of you, imagines, of you, thoughts of you. “Clothes...off...now.”

He didn’t wait for you, instead he ripped your shirt down the back, tearing it to shreds. He gently pushed on your chest, sending you down. Your back in the bed and you didn’t dare try and sit up.

“Is this a good time to mention I went commando today?” you asked aloud. Keith stopped everything he was doing and looked at you. He was expressionless. He didn’t say a word.

“...You’re not wearing any underwear?” he glowered.

“No?” you trailed off. “I didn’t do my laundry.” you admitted. 

The remained of your shirt fell in a pool around you. You and Keith had a stare-down, that glossy look returning to his eyes. He hooked his fingers around the hem of your pants and yanked them down. As expected, you were completely exposed to him. No undergarment in sight. Your smell filled his nostrils.

He instantly began fumbling with his pants, unable to control himself anymore. He could see that you were already excited down there and he was growing inpatient. 

He grabbed hold of your thighs and thrust himself into your tightness, earning a surprised moan from you. You felt better than he thought you would. You fit him perfectly, like a sheath built for a special type of sword. 

“Fu-...Ungh...-” He could barely make words as he pumped into your wetness. “Y/N.” he grunted. “You’re mine.” he growled. “Mine. If anyone else touches you after today, they’ll have me to answer to.” he croaked.

You were at a point where you couldn’t make any words, your body had reacted to him in a way where you felt like a slave to his touch. Was is pheromones? It was probably pheromones...you’d have to ask later.

“I wanna- I wanna kiss you.” Keith fought to speak as he slammed his hands on either side of your head. As promised, he lazily crashed his mouth over yours. His kiss was sloppy and lazily, his lips leaving a thin line of drool as he kissed down your neck. 

He rolled his hips against yours, groaning at each thrust. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to last long. That didn’t stop him from speeding up. 

“Y/N.” he moaned again. With each sloppy thrust, his name left your lips, sounding more and more guttural before he spilled into you. He yanked his length out of your hole, splattering the entire front of your body in his cum. 

You looked like a pretty sight. You were officially marked by him. When you looked up, that hungry gaze was still strewn across his face. You noticed his eyes were still focused on your heat. His tongue darted out to lick his lips. 

He met your eyes for a split second before giving you a lewd smirk. He winked at you before scooting back to lay on his stomach. 

“K-keith. We just fin-ISHED.” you tried to say. Keith had attached his mouth to your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“I know.” he stopped to speak for a bit. “I didn’t feel you cum for me though.”

“You can tell?!” you look down surprised. No, you didn’t fake it...but you didn’t think he would go this mile. 

“Of course I can fucking tell...you’re mine remember?” he giggled before lashing his mouth against you again. You could feel tears of pleasure welling up at the corners of your eyes. Your fists clenched the sheets under you.  It was like he had full control of you. You felt his fingers pump into you again, fucking his cum back into you. (I’m such a thot omg)

Your orgasm came like an avalanche. A mixture of loud cries and moans ripped through the air. Surely anyone who had been around could hear.

You were just worried about what would happen tomorrow.

...

“NOT A WORD!” you threateningly held up a butter knife to Lance not even three hours later.

“Just saying...I was on the other side of the-”

“SHUT UP!” you cut him off. 

“...Was he good though?”

“I said shut up!” you groaned, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m just saying...those hickeys aren’t gonna heal for a while.” he shrugged, laughing out loud as he walked away.

“Fuck me!” you seethed, trailing your fingers over your aching skin.

“What was that?” Keith seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You dropped the butter knife, feeling his broad chest up against your back. “Did you say to-”

“In the kitchen though?!” you squeaked. “Bad dog! Very bad!” you whimpered, melting into his touch anyways.

“Don’t worry, it only lasts a week.” he giggled in your ear.

A week...lord help you.

“Maybe longer if I like you enough.”

....Fuck

[sodasback]

Crime Junkie

Drew Starkey ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader

Okay besties, I’m gonna repost some of my old “Drew Starkey” fics but I’m going to make them “fanon Rafe Cameron” fics so I don’t feel weird. Lol thank you to all my loves on here for your suggestions and for supporting me in this endeavor 😜🖤 lol 

A lot of them will be ER Nurse Rafe. Here’s the first one. This is ER Nurse Rafe x ER Nurse Reader wayyy down the road when they’re “out” as a couple and living together.

You and Rafe spent a lot of time in the car together. You would carpool to work when you worked the same shift and most mornings you liked to listen to music, like really put on concerts for each other to wake up and get pumped for the hospital.

On the way home though, you usually ended up venting about the shift or opted for a podcast. For weeks, you and Rafe had been hooked on true crime podcasts: Crime Junkie, My Favorite Murder, Serial, Anatomy of a Murder …all of em. You guys also recently had a patient who survived a really violent sexual assault come through the ER. And Rafe had recently learned about some of the scary things that have happened to you in your life …like the type of things that happen to EVERY woman in the world. All of this led to tonight.

You were both headed out to a get-together at Estephany’s place and Rafe was looking for his wallet. You were getting inpatient and antsy because you HATED being late no matter where you were going, so you decided to meet him at the car. You head to the car and when you open the door the smell of the day old milkshakes you two had left in the cupholders hit your nostrils. The parking garage of your apartment complex was literally empty on the level you parked on. As you reached for the milkshakes, you noticed all the other food trash that had accumulated lately and you decided to clean it all up. Your hands were full and you ended up dropping your purse and keys on the ground next to the open car door as you scurried over to throw everything away. But the trashcan that was usually on this level wasn’t there.

“Fuck.” You groaned. And looked back at the car. There was literally no one around and you were getting rotting milkshake juice on your wrist so you B-lined for the stairs and ran down to the next level to throw everything away in the trashcan there. Taking a minute to wipe off your wrist and tie the laces of your boots. You walked back up the stairs to see Rafe’s back as he faced the car. He was completely frozen. 

“Hey, ready to go?” You asked casually, walking past him to the car. 

Rafe whipped around to grab your wrist and turn you to face him “Where the fuck were you?!” He shouted, grabbing your shoulders. You leaned back away from him completely dumbfounded at this extreme reaction. 

“I was just throwing away the trash we left in the car from earlier.” You explained, shrinking from him a little bit. 

“Why would you leave your purse and keys like that?! And leave the car door open?! Your phone was on the floor of the car! What the fuck y/n?!!” He continued going off. 

Rafe had NEVER spoken to you like this. He had never spoken to ANYONE like this that you knew of. 

“My hands were full! I just dropped it trying to throw everything away. Plus, we live in a super safe complex where we know everyone. There’s no one else parked on this level. I was only gone for like 2 seconds.” You listed off hurriedly,  “Like yeah, it probably wasn’t the smartest thing but it’s not that big of a deal, Rafe.” 

You paused, both of you looking at the other with tension filling the air between you “...AND before you start yelling again, you sir, need to watch your tone with me right now.” You added sternly at the end, folding your arms over your chest and giving him a lot of attitude as you furrowed your brow. 

Rafe let go of your shoulders and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. “Fuck.” He walked away for a second before exhaling and turning back to you. 

“I’m sorry y/n. You scared the shit out of me right now. I just saw the door open like that and all your stuff here... and fuck... I just thought you had gotten ...kidnapped or something.” He mumbled the last part.

Your facial expression relaxed and after a beat, you went and wrapped your arms around Rafe’s waist and he tightly wrapped around your shoulders before he held your head against his chest. He kissed the top of your head. 

“I’m really sorry for talking to you like that, baby.” 

“It’s okay.” You said simply and genuinely before adding, “But it better not fucking happen again, Cameron.” You teased, but you both knew how serious you actually were too. “....Also, maybe we should lay off our true crime podcasts for a little while.” 

“Yeah, can we? I honestly have been scared about you getting kidnapped and chopped into little pieces for weeks.” He chuckled a little. Your heart broke a little bit as you realized something. 

“Is that why I’ve found you in the living room watching Friends in the middle of the night like 4 times last week when you said you couldn’t sleep?” 

“I just kept having nightmares about all this horrible shit happening to you. Especially after you told me all the times that cars have like slowed down or followed you while you’re running. And that time someone put something in your drink at a music festival.” Rafe said, getting all exasperated again. 

“And that’s why all of a sudden you started running with me even though you hate running?” You realized all the little things Rafe had been doing differently lately were all adding up to him being so worried about you. He just looked at you with concern and a little bit of embarrassment. 

“Ahh baby.” You cooed squeezing him tight and then pulling away and grabbing his face with your hands. 

“I’m so sorry, you’ve been so worried lately. I wish you would have told me. The world is definitely a scary place for young women and I can’t promise that nothing bad is ever gonna happen to me. But you can’t be with me every second of every day. I can take care of myself. I have for a really long time. And I can take precautions to stay safe. ...And yeah, leaving my purse and keys near our open car in an empty parking garage at night is not the way to do that. But babe no matter what precautions I take, I can’t control other people and whatever malicious intentions they might have. I promise I’ll be as careful as I can, but you need to realize that neither one of us can control it all and we need to let it go. I know that’s way easier said than done, but if you worry about me ALL THE TIME, it’s just gonna drive us both insane and be really toxic.” 

“I know.” He said quietly, looking down, “I just love you so god damn much y/n. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” 

You were both quiet looking in the other’s eyes. You looked away and smirked.

“Well, at least you would be able to start listening to Johnny Cash again.” You teased, desperately trying to lighten the mood. You both knew how much you despised Johnny Cash songs. 

Rafe gave you an annoyed look for making light of the situation, but then broke into a smile, putting an arm around you as you walked to the car. “And for that, we’re listening to Ring of Fire on the way over to Estephany’s!” He said, playfully slapping your ass and smiling over at you, as you parted to go to your respective car doors.

“I will literally jump out of the car.” You stated.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe @jeyramarie @stupidpendeja 

[red-jaebyrd]

My Brother’s Keeper

Ric hadn’t set out to make a new friend that day. In fact he hadn’t even expected to see the guy again once he had helped Ric push his busted cab to the side of the road.

Hardly anyone ever went out of their way to help others in Bludhaven. It surprised Ric when this guy, Jason just appeared as if out of nowhere to yell at honking drivers and help Ric get his cab out of the way of traffic. Ric had invited him to The Prodigal for a beer that night as a thank you. He wasn’t sure if Jason would even show up that night, but to his surprise he did.

“So what do you do when you're not swooping in to help complete strangers push their broken down cars out of rush hour traffic?” Ric asked.

Jason laughed. “Little bit of this, little bit of that, mostly free-lance stuff.”

It was a vague answer, but Ric let it slide. Everyone had their secrets, he couldn’t fault a guy he just met to have a few.

“Must be nice. Is it real lucrative?”

“The pay isn’t bad,” Jason shrugged. “I get to set my own hours and carry a gun.”

“Can’t argue with those perks,” Ric chuckled, taking a drink of his beer. “So did you grow up around here?”

“Nah, I grew up in Gotham, what about you?”

Ric tensed at hearing Gotham and gripped the handle of his beer mug tighter. He really hoped Jason wasn’t another one of Wayne’s associates trying to jog his memory and lure him back ‘home’. Maybe he should just play along.

“Same, seems everyone one I’ve run into lately is from Gotham.” Ric challenged.

“Well, to be fair Gotham is a pretty big place,” Jason replied causally. “So what brought you to Bludhaven?”

Ric shrugged allowing the tension to leave his shoulders. “Let’s just say I needed somewhere new to spread my wings.”

“And you chose Bludhaven?” Jason snorted. “Did you lose a bet?”

“Shut up.” Ric laughed, elbowing Jason in the arm. “Don’t knock it. You’re here too. What brought you to the ‘haven’?”

Jason ran a hand through his hair. His brow furrowed in thought before he answered. At first Ric thought that maybe he was prying too much into this guy’s life, or asking too many personal questions.  He couldn’t help it. He liked talking and Jason was the first person besides Bea that was actually interested in talking to him.

“Gotham wasn’t safe for us anymore, so my brothers and I bailed and came here.”

“Looks like you left just in time. I heard a lot of crazy shit with the Bat was happening in Gotham. Wait, did you say ‘brothers’?” Ric’s smiled wistfully.

Jason nodded. “I have four. One was staying with our sister the last time I checked in with him and the other two came here with me.”

Ric had always wondered what it would be like to be part of a big family.  He wondered if he had ever asked his parents for a brother or a sister. If they hadn’t died, would they have had more children? Would he have been a good big brother to them? Wayne did have a younger son, so Ric was technically a big brother, but he couldn’t remember his life with him. When it came to the Waynes, Ric was just a son and brother on paper.

“Where’s the other one? You said four brothers, but only mentioned three of them.”

He watched as Jason scratched along a groove in the wood of the bar, like he was trying to think of the right words to say. Ric’s stomach flipped as he started to speculate that maybe something serious did happen to Jason’s family. Or maybe Ric was just making Jason feel uncomfortable with all his questions. Ric did that sometimes when he got too excited talking to new people. Jason took a swig of his beer before answering Ric’s question.

“Our older brother...” Jason answered, running his fingers along the condensation of his mug. “…he went missing a few months ago. It’s been hard on the family, especially our father and my youngest brother.”

“I’m sorry. I can imagine it’s been difficult for everyone, especially you. It can’t be easy being the one that they depend on.”

Jason shook his head. “No, truthfully it sucks sometimes, but it has its moments. He was– I had a good role model and they’re good kids. They just miss him. I miss him too.”

“Well you got them somewhere safe,” Ric clapped a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Well…relatively safe. Any leads on his whereabouts?”

“Nothing but dead ends. Deep down I don’t really think he wants to found,” Jason shrugged. “But I’ll keep looking for him. So what about you, any siblings?”

Ric knew a dismissal when he heard it. He didn’t mind the change in subject. He couldn’t blame Jason for not elaborating. It had to be stressful for anyone looking for a missing family member. He assumed this question was bound to make its way onto him.

“No, I’m an only child. My parents died when I was eight.”

“Shit, sorry man. We can talk about something else.”

“It’s fine. You told me about your brother. I can talk about this. I did get taken into a good home, so I shouldn’t really complain,” Ric shrugged.

“But…”

Ric shook his head. “It’s just frustrating to have these people who are supposed to be my ‘family’ constantly telling me how I should be living my life.”

“Oh, I know how that is, trust me. It’s the worst.”

“Right? Why can’t I live my life how I want to? I’m an adult. They’re not even interested in getting to know me,” Ric ranted. “They just want their precious ‘Dick Grayson’ back. It’s my life now not his, let me live it how I want to.”

Shit. He went too far. He could see the look of surprise on Jason’s face. The lull of silence between them stretched and Ric couldn’t form a cohesive thought. Ric’s brain was scrambling for something else to say, anything to say, to fix the mess he just made but nothing was coming. Instead his mind started replaying all recent moments of disappointed people coming and going in his life claiming that they loved him, but not wanting to take the time get to know him.

Ric really hated his brain sometimes and how there was no filter between what he was thinking and what came out of his mouth. He needed to explain himself to Jason fast. Ric knew Jason had to have noticed the gnarly scar on the side of his head. Maybe the scar would give him a free pass at his unfiltered choice of words.

“Sorry, sorry, that uh kinda came out of nowhere. I…uh…had a bit of an accident…” Ric explained, pointing at his scar. “…I got shot a few months ago and well let’s just say my “family” or whatever they want to call themselves, didn’t take to my recovery well.”

“I’m sorry. Sometimes injuries that intense can either bring a family closer together or tear them apart.”

Ric shrugged his shoulders. It had been rough having to relearn how to do everyday tasks like eating, writing his name, and walking. His “family” and friends had been there at every therapy session encouraging him with their words and overall presence. But the worst of it had been their reactions to the news that his memories of them were gone.

“I couldn’t remember them,” Ric admitted, staring at his near empty beer mug.  “They were literal strangers to me the moment I opened my eyes from the coma, and it was something that they wouldn’t accept. In the end their concern for me and my recovery just felt conditional, so I left and came here.”

“Damn. Do they at least check up on you?” Jason asked.

“The old man used to, but I haven’t seen him in a while. A red-headed chick did too, but I told her not to bother anymore. Not if she’s going to keep looking at me searching for ‘him’ to come back. Apparently the other guy they really want was a real ‘Golden boy’, that’s not me.”

Jason snorted.

“What did I say?” Ric quirked a smile.

“Nothing,” Jason smirked, and took a drink of his beer.

“I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need them.”

“No you don’t. I know they’re family, but fuck them.” Jason clinked his beer mug against Ric’s.

Oh Ric really liked this guy.

 8888

The next few weeks Ric and Jason met up at The Prodigal for beers. Some nights all they did was talk and drink. Other nights they drank and played pool. Jason became one of Ric’s favorite drinking buddies.

Ric couldn’t legitimately remember ever having a feeling of kinship with anyone like Jason before in his life. It was nice and a bit scary at the same time letting someone new in his life. Still, instead of running away from this newfound friendship, Ric embraced it.

Friendship was a concept Ric wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to again. He didn’t have many friends in Bludhaven, well friends that he remembered. Dick’s old friends wanted nothing to do with him. They kept waiting and pushing for Dick to “come back”. When he finally snapped at them that Dick was gone and never coming back, they stopped visiting him. He did have Bea. She was the only one who had welcomed him with open arms and genuinely wanted to get to know him.

Jason had been the only other person he had run into that also didn’t have some hidden agenda to “bring Dick back”. With Jason there wasn’t any pressure or demand to be anyone other than himself. He could be Ric with no expectations thrust upon him. Jason empathized with Ric’s struggle to find his identity apart from the Waynes.

This was what made hanging out with Jason so easy. The anxiety of having to censor himself, afraid he might say or do something that was so inherently not Dick didn’t exist when he was around Jason. It was such a relief and a weight off Ric’s shoulders to just exist in a space with a friend and be himself.

Once Jason had opened up to Ric, he learned that there was a whole slew of shit that had happened to his friend in just a short amount of time. Aside from his brother going missing, Jason had a serious falling out with his dad that had caused a significant rift between them causing him to take his brothers and leave. However, the most devastating news had to be hearing that Jason’s best friend had been killed while staying at an inpatient rehabilitation facility.

“I wish I had some advice to give you, but something tells me you weren’t looking for any,” Ric said.

“No, not really, just a sympathetic ear, I guess.”

“I’m sorry about your best friend. That really sucks what happened to him.”

“Thanks, man. At least we got to work one last job together before he died. Anyway, that’s enough of my bullshit. What’s up with you? You look like my little brother after seven Red Bulls and 3 hours of sleep.”

Ric sighed. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but I’ve been having these dreams lately of faceless people in weird costumes. In the dream I feel like I know them. I’m ready to say their name but I can’t talk. I wake up and by the time I try to recall the images I can’t remember them.”

“Do you think your memories are trying to come back?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Ric shrugged.

“But…you don’t want them to come back, do you?”

It felt silly getting so worked up over something like lost memories resurfacing. Ric should be happy that parts of his lost past was trying to get through to him. He should be relieved that the 15 years of lost memories were finally starting to return, but he wasn’t happy or relieved. He was worried.

“What happens to me when I start remembering everything? Will I still be Ric when Dick’s memories come flooding back filling in the gaps? What if I don’t like the things I start to remember? What then?”

Jason turned in his stool to face Ric. “No matter what, you’ll still be Ric. You’ll still be the guy with the busted cab I had to push out of traffic. You’ll still be the guy that kicks my ass playing pool. You’ll still be the guy who insists on buying the first round and listening to all my bullshit. You’ll still be you, just with new memories.

“No matter what happens you are not obligated to go back to your old life or live your life by your old memories. You don’t owe those assholes in Gotham anything.”

Ric nodded allowing Jason’s words to sink in.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Jason clapped a hand on Ric’s shoulder. “Next round is on me.”

The anxiety slowly started to ebb away as Ric watched his friend leave their high top table and make his way to the bar to get another round of beers.

Ric couldn’t stop the new memories from coming. They were coming whether he wanted them to or not. And when they did come he was glad to have found such a great friend in Jason. The man was right, no matter what happened, he was not obligated to go back to his old life or live his life by his old memories.

Part 2: Somebody That I Used to Know

[never-not-ever]

You probably should share less. Making public posts on the internet about anything that goes on in your place of work could absolutely be seen as inappropriate and you wouldn’t want to lose your job as soon as you’ve gotten it. And on a personal level, I wouldn’t appreciate a nurse at my inpatient facility unsympathetically waxing poetic about how at MY lowest point I’m instrumental to YOUR giant solipsistic pat on the back. Part of being a professional is realizing you’re not the main character anymore and these children aren’t just minor roles in your story. Congratulations for your successes, genuinely, but if you can’t help yourself a diary or private posts might be a better option.

You poor thing, nothing you said makes any sense. (I actually had some not so nice words instead of “poor thing” but after spending way too much time on this reply I decided to be a little nicer- you’re welcome 😘) And I also was going to say that this will be my last post and it’s not because any of what you said is true but because I’m not going to let anonymous cowards tear me down when I’m finally in a good place. But then I realized that you’re one out of thousands who took the time out of their day to continue to go on and on about how you’re misinterpreting my words. And I got a pretty nice message from a gem of human being and yea I’m going to stick around. But first…

Just to recap and put you in your place.

1) Talking about general things, most of which is stuff that I struggled with when I was inpatient is literally just that- GENERAL. I never mentioned specific details or names or anything else that would violate HIPAA.

2) How am I unsympathetic?! You have no fucking idea how badly I want to tell these kids that I understand on a similar level to how they’re feeling. How fucking badly I want to be able to help them see that it can get better, that it may be shitty right now and it may get better and then get shitty again but it can get better. But no fucking credit to you I know what is professional and how to not break boundaries and I would never think of sharing anything from my personal life to them at this level of care and in this job position. I’ve been a CPS before where I was able to do that and I know this isn’t the place. I’m unsympathetic? Are you fucking kidding me? You clearly don’t know me 🙃.

3) Lastly how is their lowest point a pat on the back for me? That doesn’t make any fucking sense. They had no help with me and my recovery and getting to a place where I feel I’m able to work in this setting and give it my all without getting triggered or spiraling. MY recovery and what kind of jobs I take has nothing to do with them being in their lowest points. I just really don’t understand your logic here.

Like at first when I read this you really got me questioning everything. So kudos to you, you achieved what you wanted-partially… But after rereading your message I can see that it really has nothing to do with me and really something you need to work on with yourself. I’m “genuinely” sorry that me talking about my new job and talking about my recovery sparked some kind of annoyance with you. I know 100% for a fact that my job is lucky to have me because there are people who take this entry level position and only do it because it’s a “job” and there’s no experience required. I care so much about my job and my patients recovery and you’re delusional if you think otherwise. I hope you find that peace you’re looking for and maybe stop attacking others and look inward.

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Ghost Slander

I know I’ve done this before sorta but this is the Finial List of all the shit that’s really just bad about them. the first half of each is serious bad stuff and the second half is just silly annoying shit they do. I am not apologizing for this so that’s that on that. I also still love them anyways.

Papa I:  too old to do anything. he may be strong and smart, but he’s old, and tired, and gets grumpy when he’s tired. and when he’s grumpy hes a fucking asshole. he really doesn’t want to do anything, like go out for a fun day in the city, or try new things. can’t teach an old dog ne w tricks, and he doesn’t even try tricks he’s known about for forty years. He can be boring, and he can be punchy and shitty when he’s annoying (I don’t mean like punchy as in hitting, just you know when you were grumpy as a kid and you get really irritated and annoyed and kind of just wanna have a hissy fit and cant control it???? that.)

Papa II:  Super emotionally unavailable and it just becomes taxing to try and get him to open up unless he’s ready and willing - which, spoiler alert, will never happen. He really does have a shitty temper and when he gets angry he sees red. Refuses to delegate tasks to other people around him because he thinks no one else can do it right. When he does, no matter what they do it’s never good enough and he makes all his interns cry and/or quit. for fun: he gets the “man flu” in which he will not take medication or go to the doctor until he literally has muscle dystrophy. thinks Advil or Tylenol is some hippy bullshit brainwashing pill invented by liberals that are trying to trick him into being happy. conspiracy theories. thinks aliens built the pyramids. watches ancient aliens in his spare time and never shuts up about it. Unable to use technology, and falls asleep in “special chair” at home. 

Papa III: cant take no for an answer. he doesn't understand when someone refuses his advances because all of the girls in the clergy falling all over him his whole life has made his head a little too big. if you want major fucking ego, he’s the brother for you. if you don’t want flowers, and you don’t want random extravagant things, he’s not the brother for you, because if you tell him you don’t like the things he’ll assume you hate him and decide that you shouldn’t be together anymore. sure, it comes from a place of caring and wanting to spoil his s/o, but fuck, bro, tone it down. He’ll also talk at you for hours even if you’re not listening just because he loves the sound of his own voice. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to do something else, or are tired, or you just don’t care, he’ll stop talking when he’s ready and only then. For fun:  at a kids soccer game he would be That Dad that screams at the other kids like hes the assistant coach and probably be drunk and fist fight the other drunk dads in their lawn chairs. makes his s/o wax his back before they go to the beach or anywhere he has to be shirtless. its gross and hairy and he wouldn't care if his s/o didn’t bully his persian-rug body into it so hard one time he canceled a vacation. 

Copia: He has no back bone. He’ll work until people give him what wants but he’ll never come right out and say it, in any kind of relationship or work. You’ll constantly be guessing whether or not what he said has a second meaning and if it’s really want he wants or he’s been waiting for you to figure it out the whole time. It’s fucking annoying. He’ll never be the one to put his foot down, or silence a room, or command attention like the other papa’s have, he just doesn’t have it in him. For fun: Calls his stomach his “spare tire” like what the fuck who says that?? Talks to everyone, you literally have to drag him away from talking to strangers. The person next to him at the cafe has their headphones in and he’s just chatting away. Small talk but just gets worse, and he subjects everyone to it.  rides one of those bikes where you're basically lying down and doesn't shut the fuck up about how low impact it is on your back and knees. thinks the government is out to get him and everyone else but doesn't put two and two together and still has a google home thing or an alexa, buys that facebook skype camera thing for your tv that literally follows you when he walks. he just thinks their neat.

Dewdrop: Has a hot temper and genuinely gets mean when he lashes out. He doesn’t care that everyone has to chase after him all the time and has no remorse for what they have to do for him or what he ruins for them. He’s gonna do whatever he want’s whenever he wants and no one can tell him otherwise - everyone thinks this is so fun and quirky and great until it’s been a few months and they’re wondering why Dew hasn’t calmed down even a little. He’s too self obsessed to even care what other people want for him. A total mess wherever he goes, eats all the soap and candles and doesn’t replace them. 

Swiss:  saying someone is too good at everything doesn't sound like an insult, but it does when they brag about it. Swiss has always been the multi ghoul, meaning hes always been pretty good at everything, but never specialized in something. so rather than do more to hide the fact he’s a jack of all trades but master of none, he just brags about every tiny little thing he does. hes like 6′ but his ego is like 8′4″. Insanely jealous in relationships which can cause problems. he’s a liar. there. i said it. unless he’s your s/o, if his mouth is moving, it’s probably a lie. whether hes bigging up his own adventures, or trying to cover his tracks about where he was and who he was with, its probably all bullshit. the only reason he doesn’t lie to his partners is because he HATES being lied to in return and if he has feelings for you its a little harder to just shut you out once you realize he’s full of it. He mostly lies for fun, and partly just to see what people will really believe, so it get’s wilder and wilder every time. Refuses to do anything that’s boring to him like clean or do laundry, but he hates disgusting messes so he’ll just pay someone else to do it. 

Mountain: Disgustingly messy. When I walk into a room i leave a hurricane of my shit everywhere, but if you took an actual hurricane and put it in his bedroom, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. No one in the whole church will go near his room, partly for the smell, partly for the fact of that there is no where to stand that isn’t a foot high with garbage and dirty clothes. If he cleaned his room i think a new disease would be unlocked. Super stubborn, and inpatient. He’s pretty chill, but refuses to wait for anything without getting super annoyed, and it’s impossible to change his mind about literally anything once it’s made up. Trying to debate him about anything is a fucking nightmare. 

Aether:  when you’ve been together for a while, and you’re comfortable with each other, things can get boring. he’ll stop taking you on dates every week, and stop thanking you profusely for everything you do, and stop treating you like a queen. things will get stale quickly, so unless you’re into routine, steer fucking clear or you're doomed.  when he’s in a shitty mood, he will say literally anything to you to get you away from him. he just wants to be left alone and if you wont let that happen he’ll break up with you, tell you to fuck off, tell you to get away from him, tell you to go fuck yourself, whatever it takes. he doesn’t mean it, and even if he knows that deep down, you’re still causing the problem by existing, in his mind. refuses to accept that there may be a different way to do things. it’s Aether’s way or the highway and that's it. he thinks that if somethings easier, or faster than the way he does it, then it’s not being done right, and it’s fucking annoying how he wastes so much time doing stupid simple tasks because its the way he was taught and its the way he’ll do them until he dies

Rain: A baby. An actual baby. Needy and clingy and even a little bit pathetic sometimes. Here and there it can be cute and you might feel the need to nurture him, but honestly most people can’t handle it all the time but for Aether. He constantly needs attention in the exact way he wants and if he doesn’t get it he’ll whine and cry and try and make you feel like shit. Maybe it’s manipulation, maybe it’s not. Who knows. But you have to make sure he eats properly, make sure he gets dressed properly, make sure he sleeps, pretty much be a parent to him half the time. The amount of emotional labor is borderline slavery. His attitude is insane, and he’s sassy and bossy all the time as if he’s actually in control, and if you tell him otherwise he’ll scream (at the top of his lungs). Uses baby talk at an inappropriate timing and makes people uncomfortable  sometimes.

Cumulus: Collects tiny little themed knick knacks that are literally everywhere and take up all the space in her and Cirrus’ little sapphic cottage. Nosey and wants to know everyone’s business all the time. The only person she tells is Cirrus but she won’t rest unless she knows every detail about a persons life and drama.

Cirrus: Leaves all the lights on wherever she goes. Leaves all the cupboards open. All the lights are on so much that it lights up the whole house all night, and people call them to tell them to either close their blinds or turn the fucking lights off.

[devilsskettle]

can i ask u to elaborate on ur feelings/notes about swallow? i rly liked it and i would love to hear another person’s thoughts!!

yes! i’m so glad you asked, i was just writing about it actually! 

the main two things i think this movie has going for it are the visual appeal and the strength of the acting. every shot in this movie seemed intentional and considered thoroughly, none of them seemed unnecessary or even boring to look at. everything from the set and costume design to the camera work was well done. i think that’s really impressive! most films don’t have that kind of intentionality. it felt kind of like “wes anderson does a psychological thriller” lol but not in a way that felt distracting to me. also the actress who plays hunter, haley bennett, did such a good job of conveying her as a character, and with so much nuance to her emotions. i also think it’s thematically interesting, the way it explores ideas about health, bodily autonomy, financial inequality (this is another “rich people suck” movie), gender, i could go on but you get the idea. it’s very gothic in a lot of ways, discussing the confinement of and violence towards women in the domestic sphere, especially the entitlement to their bodies and ideas about motherhood. i’ve also rarely seen stories about pika but i think here it’s framed in a sympathetic and respectful light that points out its seriousness but doesn’t place the blame on the person who struggles with it, which is a good way to handle any mental health issue in stories imo. i also think it’s rare to have abortion portrayed as a neutral choice that is right in certain circumstances so i think it did that well enough (there have been several movies/tv series in recent years that also discuss abortion without bias so it’s hardly revolutionary but i still like the way they went about it). however, i didn’t love the direction the movie went, i was hoping for more horror than that, in fact the only reason i think it’s labeled a psychological thriller is because people aren’t used to seeing pika portrayed and while it’s a scary problem to have, i don’t think the movie as a whole feels like a thriller. it feels more like a drama about marriage and mental health, if maybe a little bit more intense for that genre. like you can tell it’s intended to be a thriller based on the tone and everything, but the story itself doesn’t back that up. also it only really gets at surface level issues, and gives you a clear reason and solution for her problem (reason: guilt about the method of her conception + problems with her home life + pregnancy. result: pika. solution: confront father + leave husband + abortion. i wish it hadn’t been that simple)

which brings me to: the things i would’ve changed about it or liked to see more:

1. they opened the movie with several close up shots of food and i thought that would be a motif that they carried through the movie, which it was with the items that hunter ate, but not with actual food. like i thought in the birthday party scene, they would have a close up shot of the tray of sandwiches she was carrying, for example. i would’ve liked to see that and how by treating both the food and the objects the same way visually it would blur the line between the two, also i just think it would be visually appealing 

2. i’m uncomfortable with the way they portrayed getting mental health help, with the therapist breaking confidentiality and the family of her husband coercing her into checking into an inpatient facility, even though imo that’s exactly where she needed to be (she almost died! she should’ve been in more intensive treatment). i don’t mind the therapist thing as much because it shows how money can open any door and how alone hunter was, but there’s nothing wrong with having to go to a psych ward even if it feels like an extreme step so it kind of felt bad to me but maybe i’m just hypersensitive about that kind of thing 

3. again, i wanted it to go darker. i wanted for her to snap at the end and do something fucked up to her husband or his family. honestly i didn’t mind the ending, i thought the bathroom scene under the credits was a very strong final shot, but the narrative after she leaves the hotel feels like it diverts into soap opera melodrama territory. in some ways i like the ending but i wished it had something else to it

4. i wish we got to see more of hunter’s real personality but i think that’s difficult when she’s so isolated. maybe in some of the therapy scenes she could open up more and we’d see more past the facade (besides when she’s having a breakdown, which is also not indicative of her “real” personality) 

5. the fact that we get to hear from her father and very little from her mother - none of which is positive - is a little bit questionable to me given that he raped her and we see him humanized and her - maybe not dehumanized, but she’s framed as not being a very good mother, at least to hunter, despite what she says about it. but it’s also surprising and moving in unexpected ways to see her confront the real person face to face instead of literally carrying around the image that she has of him and never really dealing with it, and it also shows that what he did and who he was when he did it was truly pathetic and entitled and massively harmful to both hunter and her mother and potentially to the family he has now, and also there’s not some magical line that separates “normal” people from people who do terrible things to other people, they’re also just people, which isn’t to say “we should forgive them and give them another chance! they’re only human,” more like “you are a person who is capable of hurting others so think about your actions and hold yourself accountable for them.” so i don’t know if it works or if it doesn’t work for me, i maybe have to sit with that one a little longer

6. while i think this movie is better, it does feel like it’s potentially getting into promising young women territory with the pastel aesthetic, focus on women, and shallowness of the storytelling (everything in either of these movies stays very surface level imo). i think it’s a much better movie but still there were parts that felt pretty meh in the same ways

that having been said, it’s a movie i think is going to stick with me and i definitely think it’s worth a watch for anyone curious, but if you’re not already curious, i don’t think you’re missing out so terribly much if you skip it

if you enjoyed this movie (or even were just interested in its themes) here’s some things i would recommend checking out: the yellow wallpaper by charlotte perkins gilman (a woman experiences a mental breakdown after being shut away in her room to recover from “hysteria” while suffering from postpartum depression), white is for witching by helen oyeyemi (also deals with pika as well as horror in domestic spaces), the invisible man 2020 (i feel like these movies have a lot of overlap - isolated glass houses on a cliffside, abusive/possessive men that they have to escape both of whom threaten to - or actually do - hunt them down, a woman experiencing a serious problem that no one takes seriously and is threatened with - or actually experience - institutionalization, commentary on wealth and autonomy), wide sargasso sea by jean rhys (after reading jane eyre of course! follows the character of bertha from jane eyre during her childhood, the early days of her relationship with rochester, and the breakdown of that relationship - similar in relationship with her husband, etc)

anyway yeah that’s all i have to say about it for now but i’d love to hear what you think about it!

[thelittlestcheshire]

Self Para 005: The Reminders Pull the Floor From Your Feet

Note: For starters, this takes place on Saturday. This involves the Leo plot, and for the most part it’s...  lots of Ches’s thought process leading up to her visiting Leo. Any interactions with people are lead up / not really... the majority. So please, tread carefully. I was careful to avoid going too deep into her more... brutal thought processes in hopes of ensuring it’s not too triggering but given the context I do feel a need to mention it. I do discuss her finding her brother after his attempt a little bit too, so, please pay heed to the tws and if you think it may be an issue, I strongly urge you skip this self para. I love you guys, and your safety is the biggest priority always <3

TWs: Suicide / Suicide Attempts, Decapitation / Murder (mentioned in a comment about how displeased Leo will be to see her), Hanging, Amputation, Ches’s thought process while shopping does include her making considerations about what she can buy Leo can’t hurt himself with so I don’t know how to tag that but I am aware it could be triggering.

For once, Ches didn’t know how she was expected to react, but she was sure it didn’t align with how she currently felt as she tore through her wardrobe to try to find something to wear. What even was appropriate to wear today? Colors were too cheery, white too saintly, black was a staple in her wardrobe and entirely off the table. Everything in her closet was practically getting thrown without care as she desperately tried to find anything. Even as her front door opens, she doesn’t glance to see who was coming in until she hears Balo squeak as she tries to avoid yet another thrown object.

“Sorry! I just was wondering if I could maybe borrow a pair of shorts?” The blonde squeals and the redhead pauses her frantic search for something appropriate to wear. Was Balo really trying to carry on like normal when her friend was in the hospital after trying to kill himself? Sure, people were saying it was an accident, but that didn’t mean it was.

Emmett had told everyone it was an accident after his attempt, a prank gone wrong, that she had to cut him down from the ceiling after. And at this point, she simply didn’t believe in accidents.

“Of course, they’re in the dresser. Let me know if there’s something worth wearing to the hospital in there while you’re at it.” She glances away from what she was doing to wave her friend toward where the dresser was. She would have to rearrange the room to the way she liked it eventually, but she hadn’t exactly been happy about much of anything since they arrived in New Zealand. 

“Is going to see Leo a good idea?”

Balo’s question throws her off, as it was one she had been asking herself over and over again. She still didn’t know the answer herself, and she just turns away from her friend to go back through her closet, tossing yet more things in the direction of her bed as she fails to find something worth wearing. “This is my fault. I have to go.” She finally speaks as she tosses the last item of clothing in the closet onto the floor. “If I had done more....”

“It was an accident, remember? Just breathe, okay? You dress like you usually would. Maybe ask if I’m allowed to visit if you think he’s up to it?” She shakes her head, grabbing the shorts she came for from the drawer before she tosses a pair of ripped jeans and a tank top her way. Ches catches it, grateful for the answer so she could move onto the next method to tear herself apart with. “Just promise me you’ll be gentle with him. He’s going through a lot.”

“I’m not going to be mean. I figured he might like some comfy clothes and stuff. If someone else already thought of it, great, but...” She glances at her shoe rack as she talks. Maybe she should wear sneakers instead of heels for once, it’d make her look shorter and left her feeling more vulnerable, but perhaps it’d ease his fears of her just showing up. She doubted she was the first person he wanted to see; in fact, she was likely the very last, perhaps Balo was right, and this was a horrible idea.

But she needed to do this. How else was she going to live with the guilt?

“Well, if you need to talk later, come find me. I’ve gotta go, but I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with those words, Ches was alone with her thoughts again. She takes a deep breath as she walks over to her dresser to set the clothes she was going to wear down. Stepping over multiple piles of discarded clothes carefully as she realizes just how much money she’d just carelessly thrown to the floor as if it didn’t matter. Perhaps, in the long run, it didn’t. Still, she kneels down and starts to sort through the discarded clothes on the floor, slowly beginning to put everything back onto hangers. How was she supposed to make intentions clear from the moment he saw her? 

Maybe the gifts would help, but she was just going to have to accept that whatever she did, Leo was likely to be hostile. Emmett was after his attempt, and he liked her. Ches was entirely unwelcome, and she knew that, but she supposed that was well deserved. If the roles were reversed, she would have made Leo’s visit a living hell for daring to breathe near her after a failed attempt. He had every right to do the same to her now. She carefully puts the last dress back where it belongs, going through the motions of getting dressed and making herself presentable, throwing her hair up in a ponytail, grabbing her bag, and just leaving the dorms. 

She would have to go to the store and try to find things Leo would be allowed to have. She was already starting a shopping list of things in her head, things he’d need, things he’d like. 

-------------------

Could she trust Leo with colored pencils, or was she going to have to stick with crayons? As Ches looks over the shelf of Crayola products, she ponders it for a few moments before she grabs both the washable crayons and the twistable colored pencils, glancing around before she tosses the bath crayons in too. She always got her worst thoughts in the shower. Maybe giving him a creative outlet he could take with him would be beneficial. On second thought, she tosses a box in for herself too. Her roommate was simply going to have to fucking deal with it.

The notebook had to have no wires, nothing he could pull off of it and cause harm. Any bags needed to be paper so he’d be allowed to have them. The slippers had to be sturdy yet stringless. She’d broken into his room in an attempt to figure out sizes, so she was hoping she was doing well on the clothing. She didn’t want to bring anything of his, not only because it’d require her to be honest that she had broken into his bedroom, but because she already knew how easily things got lost. The last thing she needed was to grab something that mattered and something happening to it. That was a problem she had no intention of being blamed for.

What else could be needed? Pre-paid call cards just in case what she’d read was wrong, and he wasn’t allowed to have his cell phone. If he did, she supposed it never hurt to have prepaid international calling cards either way. 

He liked pen and ink, not paint, right?

For a moment, she tries to remember the art of his she had seen, none of it had been paintings, but maybe that was just simply because he couldn’t carry it around. She could ask, offer to make a second trip. She tosses comfy clothes into the cart as she goes, trying to find the most comfortable stringless things she could find, socks and underwear, because people probably weren’t thinking of it when they grabbed stuff. Toothbrush, he definitely needed a toothbrush. And inpatient units were usually cold, so a massive plush blanket probably help. He probably would be allowed to have zippers. Shit, what was his jeans size? Maybe Elizabeth would know, although was it a good idea to bother her at work with how busy she was. She glances at the racks for a minute, considering it for a moment.

Stuffed animals were usually taken in her experience, but if she could prove he wouldn’t hurt himself with it, maybe getting him something he was allowed to punch would be nice. After all, he did seem to enjoy his fights. Was Winnie the Pooh punchable? Balo was onto something when she said Leo looked like Christopher Robin. And he was a baby toy, so if Leo got him apart and found a way to hurt himself with it, it would be a feat. Still, she considers it a moment longer and puts an elephant in the cart instead.

She could always come back for it later if he’d appreciate the joke. What else would he like? Would the ward he was on allow her to drop by and grab him fast food? She probably could find a McDonalds’.

She takes a deep breath, already trying to find the number to find out. Hopefully, they’d allow outside food and drink. After all, what made someone’s day brighter than cheap junk food? 

-------------------

[To Momma Everett 😍😍:] I’m dropping by to see Leo, so I’m gonna put my phone on vibrate to avoid him ripping my head off, but I love you so so so so so much, and please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’ve got everything handled here, I promise. I’m going to tell the front desk I’m your daughter, so that should get me in long enough to drop him off clothes and stuff. Hopefully, he won’t correct them? 🤞

Ches puts her phone into her purse after she’s done, tossing the bag over her shoulder before she goes around to the trunk of her rental to grab the stuff. It felt like it wasn’t enough, but it wasn’t as if she could bring him nearly as much as she wanted to, just essentials and a few small things in hopes of making him smile. She goes to the hospital’s front desk, explaining why she was here and that she had no idea where she was supposed to be going. As they led her in the direction of where he was, she tries to take deep breaths. Leo was going to kill her for this, wasn’t he? Maybe she should have dropped by to steal a kiss from Elliot before she left before he literally ripped her skull from her body.

Of course, nothing could have prepared her for what was to come after she got on the unit. She hands over the stuff to the nurse’s station for them to check over, insisting it’d be better if she waited to go in to see him until she had it back, and for a brief moment, she sees Leo, and everything comes crashing down. Where had his arm gone? Why hadn’t anyone told her?

“Your brother didn’t tell you.” The nurse guesses, and she glances over to the man and the art supplies she’d brought. Was it a dick move? Perhaps, but she wasn’t going to let anyone even dare suggest he couldn’t do art. It was only a matter of adjusting how he approached it, and suddenly she didn’t care if she had to import a physical therapist willing to try to help him. If anyone tried to tell Leo he wasn’t doing something, they would have to fight her. 

“No, but that’s okay. He can still whomp me for bringing him children’s bath crayons after he gets home. He’ll be fine.”

If the nurse says anything else, she doesn’t listen. She just quietly waits for him to sticker the stuff and hand it back to her before she enters to see Leo, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she hopes that for once, maybe she wouldn’t say the wrong thing to him. 

[0l1m]

❗RANT TW SELF HARM AND DISORDERED EATING❗

Okay so I really just need to vent lmao. I had a Big Mental Breakdown just now. I relapsed into cutting which I was 3 month free of. I binged again today. Why do I always feel like I am allowed to?? You wanna know why I binged??? Bc I was hungry??? Like no shit sherlock that was the point of starving yourself you fat stupid whore??? Anyways I cried a lot and cut myself. On the hip (bc I can hide it at weigh ins) and on the tongue (literally lmao what tje fuck) so it would hurt to eat but I'm pretty dissapointed bc its just a mild burn and doesnt even hurt when I apply pressure to it. Just prooves that I'm just a fucking failure like that oops. Maybe I shd cut deeper?? Also how do I cut flesh wounds I want to fucking loose blood and feel dizzy about it I'm so sick of these baby cuts. I feel like I'm just playing around and really sick person would be really skinny by now and would know exactly how to punish themselves. How come I'm so bad at this. God I hate myself. Also why does everyone keep lying to me. Worst thing is I can't even tell my therapist bc she'll make me go inpatient and then I wont be able to be skinny first ugh this is a mess. Anyways waiting for the laxatives to do their magic how are yall doing?? People pls interact w this I feel so alone

[rowanfoster]

{ odeya rush ♔ twenty-three ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t rowan foster running around peach hollow. legend has it, she comes from tangerine towers and has lived here her entire life. if you’re wondering what she’s been up to, i hear she’s a make up artist / freelance musician for a living. she has been known to be impulsive yet insightful. a word of advice to her, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching.

why yes, it is i, admin kim, with another character that should’ve been kept in the drafts of my mind. if you’ve not met daysia or serenity, here’s a lil low down on me. i’m 26, i use she/her pronouns, and live on the east coast. i thrive on writing angst and my animal crossing villagers being happy. also caffeine. i luv chris klemens. most likely to have a mental breakdown on twitter. meet rowan! trigger warnings for mental illness, bipolar disorder specifically, and inpatient treatment

have a playlist and a pinterest board dedicated to her

rowan celeste foster was born may 27th, 1996. she’s the oldest of two, a baby sister coming to the scene in 1999.

her family is extremely close. they’ve been in peach hollow their whole lives. she grew up in a crowded house on blueberry boulevard, crammed in with her mother, father, sister, maternal grandmother and maternal grandfather. rowan never knew peace or privacy growing up – it just wasn’t possible with that many people which has really contributed to her somewhat isolated adulthood

her mother is a charge nurse at peach hollow general, working on the emergency room floor. her father is a retired car salesman. her grandparents moved into the house when her sister was born in order to help take care of the girls while their parents worked full time. rowan is especially grateful for their care, because she feels like she’d be a little more sour had she been raised by absent parents.

growing up, she shared a room with her younger sister. they told each other everything because they had no choice not to. they both developed an interest in make up and music at very young ages, but rowan particularly took to those things while maci took more interest in sports. when rowan was gifted her first ukulele at age 6, maci got her first basketball. they are polar opposites, but maci was the only person rowan really confided in as a child and an adolescent.

she’d always been rather moody. tantrums and fits were nearly unavoidable. her self esteem lacked before she even had a chance to develop any confidence. she was always the try hard, the girl who stood out because she was just a little different, the emotional one, the one the other kids didn’t want to mess with, not because she’d fight back, but because she would absolutely lose it. there were countless times where rowan ended up in the guidance counselor’s office, waiting on her grandmother to show up and bring her home. that was the beginning of their problems.

her mental health really started to decline in her mid teenage years. she spent hours upon hours in her room, writing songs, playing guitar, practicing make up looks – she’d go days without sleeping and snap at anyone who crossed her path. she got into screaming matches with everyone in the house, only to find herself crying in her bed for the next few days. she started missing days at a time from school, while her artistry thrive, the rest of her crumbled. her grades, all of it.

eventually, this resulted in her parents yanking her out of peach hollow high and putting her in counseling, which lead her to a psychiatrist and a diagnosis of bipolar disorder at the age of 17. while it made sense, she dreaded taking the medications. they numbed everything. her writing suffered, and while her moods weren’t swinging from the trees anymore, she feared that this empty feeling was worse.

she finished her high school diploma in homeschooling with her grandmother while maci went on to thrive in school. the attention shifted to her, and rowan couldn’t really blame them. she turned 18 and started performing in clubs, bars, and anywhere she could get in. ps her voice is a mix of bishop briggs & mary lambert. the thrill of performing to small crowds sucked her in. she began to gain an even smaller following on social media, mainly the locals following her. every once in a while she’ll book a show in atlanta and she’ll make the long drive just to sing in front of a bit of a larger crowd. she’ll gain a few followers from those shows, but this still isn’t her main source of income.

most of her money comes from the make up artistry she does through pop of peach. she doesn’t go in every day, but when someone has an event scheduled or needs their make up done for a dance or something, she’s there. she tries to spread things out bc she’s always late lmao and finds it hard to stick to a schedule

she was doing so well for a few years, even moved out of her parents’ house and into an apartment at the towers. that’s where she really found herself, made some real friends and built relationships that were good for her. however, she missed a few doctor’s appointments and was discharged from her psychiatrist’s office. she went off meds, and for a few weeks it was fine. when she ran out of meds, the next few weeks were okay as well. it was when every single drop of medication had drained from her body that things got bad.

rowan was missing appointments she scheduled at pop of peach. she was spending far too much time out at nights, giving in to alcohol for the most part. she tried not to touch any drugs, but drinking became a nightly thing. she’d perform, then spend the rest of the night partying with whoever she could find at the venue.

one night in atlanta after a particularly shaky performance, rowan found herself in a dark place and simply went into the women’s bathroom to calm down, but police say they found her laying flat on the ground, refusing to respond to anyone. she vaguely remembers the end of the manic episode, but it did land her in the emergency room for a change in mental status.

much to her chagrin, they admitted her overnight before transporting her to skyland trail, a mental health facility in atlanta. she spend about two and a half months there getting medications regulated and learning new coping mechanisms. she was discharged about two weeks ago and finally made it back to peach hollow and her apartment.

she’d lead everyone other than her family and maybe one or two other people that she was away on a musician’s retreat, but really, was in inpatient treatment.

she’s currently working full time as a make up artist at pop of peach and performing when she can, but doesn’t really go outside of peach hollow

fun facts & personality

rowan despises small talk. conversations about the weather or political climate don’t stimulate her and she gets snarky pretty easily. it isn’t that she wants to come off rude or unapproachable, but nine times out of ten, small talk is fake and she feels as though she doesn’t have the time or energy to indulge in it. ask her about the sky or some shit. she won’t shut up

she has a tendency to overshare,  aside from what’s been going on in the past few months. her lips are sealed tight about that. however, she’s open to talking about her mental health and is a big advocate for erasing the stigma. this makes rowan a very good listener and a huge supportive presence for anyone struggling. she’s the mom friend, and no matter what time of day or night, if someone says they need an ear, she’ll go to them. she knows what it’s like to be alone.

despite her past and her demons, rowan finds a way to put on a smile. it might often be snarky or sarcastic, but rarely is it insincere. she’s an empath and feels everything so very deeply, but can easily put it away when necessarily.

her apartment is her safe haven. she rarely has company. it isn’t really her thing. she prefers to go to other people’s places. she has her record collection proudly displayed on her living room wall, all the plants you can imagine, incense burning whenever she’s home, and a scottish fold munchkin cat named loonette after her favorite childhood tv show, the big comfy couch. she has hopes to get another cat named molly to match. you know, because we’re all clowns !

she takes great pride in her instagram. it sounds superficial, but often times, rowan will post a good picture and then link to her next show in hopes that somebody will come based on that. while she does have a passion for make up and a second instagram for it, ultimately, she’d like for there to come a time where she can live solely on the money she makes through music

catch her driving her old ass ford focus blaring 00s alternative, mainly fuckin paramore bc she’s heart eyes for hayley williams

wanted connections if ya made it this far!!!!

childhood friends – those who she’s known since elementary school. they’ve most likely watched her go through her many trials and tribulations in class. these could be acquaintances, close friends, or even a ride or die or two.

bullies – people who fucked with her through school. it’s essential that they’re on bad terms currently, but perhaps an enemy turned friend or romantic could be fun??

group therapy pal – this would be super fun and might entail the person finding out about her secret…. msg me for deets

exes – there will be a couple of these, gender does not matter. i’d like to find one that she was dating when she went into treatment and maybe hasn’t seen/spoken to them since they’ve been back, first love, high school sweetheart?? omg possibilities are endless

flirtationship – self explanatory, gender doesn’t matter she’s pan

any other ideas literally lmk!! thanks for reading ♥

[omgokiguess]

hahahahahaha what if i GO TO REHAB

what if i get on the AMERICAN WITH DISABILITIES ACT and go to rehab for three months

i probably can’t make a decision until i know whether or not i’m gonna get convicted of a DUI........ which is actually really up in the air because i passed the “walk in a straight line” test and i never actually blew a reading and i didn’t say anything so there’s no real evidence

idk maybe the judge will just clear it and not convict me? i got a good attorney. but maybe if i get convicted i can negotiate and be like look i just want to go to rehab?

i won’t be covered under FMLA so i’ll probably just have to quit my job but honestly that’s better than being fired right?

and hey if i could go to inpatient rehab at least i would be around other people right? i’m alone literally all the time so even just that would be HUGE motivation

all i know is the water is all the way up to my chin right now and i need some fucking help. i’m lying and digging and scratching and clawing and honestly i just need to go to rehab

i’m basically not even a person anymore. i’m like a caged animal and alcohol is my medicine and my poison.

i’m like at this weird point though. i know i wouldn’t have gotten so bad if i wasn’t alone for like 4 months now. haven’t gone to work since march 11, which is hilarious because i have two jobs. and i just don’t see the world getting better, i see it getting worse. and i kind of don’t even want to try? like the world was hard enough before. i’m supposed to.... heal..... while the world is just continually getting worse? i’ve never thought like this in my life but like.... i honestly really don’t want to live in this. i have no hope. there’s no way to meet new people. i’m not sure i actually even want to live anymore. good thing i burned all my bridges already in case i do decide to end it all lmao

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Big News

Summary: Sarah and Ava have big news for the groupchat.

WC: ~1.5k

[Other Bekker renamed the chat “HOUSE PARTY”]

Other Bekker: it’s official

Other Bekker: i own a house

Other Bekker: with my WIFE!!!!!!

Bekker: We’re throwing a housewarming party and everyone’s invited!

Dr. Lanik: What’s the dress code

Other Bekker: casual if you wear a suit ill kill you

Ethan Choi: When? 

Bekker: We were thinking it would start at around six or seven? It would mean a lot to us if Crockett could make it.

FreeWilly: Will there be alcohol?

Other Bekker: some of us are sober. No

no-ah: I’m in

Maggie<3: Wait who’s sober other than Crockett?

Dr. Lanik: Me

Other Bekker: me

connor: @OtherBekker there was an open bar at your wedding

Bekker: Circumstances change

Ethan Choi: This is such a fun conversation. Let’s not have it.

April: So back to the party… details!

Other Bekker: ill send the address in a bit but its gonna be potluck style. Everybody brings food. itll be pretty casual so dont be that asshole (@Dr.Lanik). starting at six ish and ending at maybe 10 or 11 depending on how tired we all are

Ethan Choi: Crockett’s program usually ends at like 5:30 so we might be a little late?

Other Bekker: ok sounds good. how is he btw

Ethan Choi: Pretty well. He’s outpatient for another few weeks and then his doctors are going to discuss long term options. Hopefully he’ll be back at work soon, too

April: Tell him we’re proud of him?

Ethan Choi: As soon as I pick him up tonight.

-

Sarah: are we telling them tonight?

Wifey: I was thinking so, yes. I mean, we have our house, and the paperwork went through.

Sarah: im so excited

Wifey: Me too, honey

-

Nat: Not to alarm anybody but whoever’s in charge of Connor right now, come to treatment 4

FreeWilly: love the implication that we take turns babysitting him

Dr. Lanik: We kind of do. I think it’s Maggie’s turn.

Maggie<3: I’m not at work. Who’s next in line?

April: @QueenElsa

Queen Elsa: Fine

connor: im a big boy i can take care of myself

Nat: You literally have a concussion

Ethan Choi: Why?

Nat: He fainted after a surgery. His sugar is low on the finger prick and he said he hasn’t had any water since his shift started

Dr. Lanik: @connor We’ve talked about this

connor: ok boomer

Dr. Lanik: @connor Stop calling me a boomer! We’re the same age!

connor: ok

connor: boomer

Bekker: Can you grow up @connor

connor: no

Queen Elsa: Update for everyone, Connor is getting a CT. He’s eating a Snickers bar right now and we’re pushing fluids

FreeWilly: youre not you when youre hungry

Dr. Lanik: @Bekker @OtherBekker What day will your housewarming party be? My daughter’s birthday is Friday.

Maggie<3: IM SORRY YOUR WHAT

Other Bekker: ?????

Bekker: We were thinking Saturday.

April: @FreeWilly Did you know about this???????

FreeWilly: uh yeah?

no-ah: Why did none of us know you had a daughter?

Dr. Lanik: I just don’t see how it’s any of your business.

Nat: How old is she? Who’s her mother? What school does she go to? How did we go this long without knowing?

[Dr. Lanik has sent an image to the chat]

Dr. Lanik: This is Emma, she’s almost eleven, and this is the most information any of you will ever be getting about her.

Ethan Choi: Well this has been a wild ride

Other Bekker: now taking bets on how crockett will react. $10 says he thinks its a joke

no-ah: Coward. He knows everything. $20 says he already knew.

Other Bekker: youre on

Queen Elsa: ...Anyways, Connor’s CT came back alright. It’s a minor concussion; he’ll be fine soon. 

Maggie<3: That’s good

Dr. Lanik: @FreeWilly and I will look after him.

Ethan Choi: Just picked up Crockett, he says hi. He also has letters for each of you as part of his process

Nat: That’s sweet

Ethan Choi: I have been assured none of them contain nudes

Other Bekker: thank g-d

Ethan Choi: I’ll be giving them to you all at work.

Ethan Choi: Crockett will be cooking something I won’t even try to pronounce for the housewarming party

Other Bekker: his cooking is all so good...

no-ah: It slaps

Queen Elsa: Is it that pasta thing??? With the crawfish????

Ethan Choi: Honestly, I don’t know.

Nat: Owen and I are bringing cookies.

Bekker: Important question, @Dr.Lanik… will Emma be coming?

Dr. Lanik: No. I don’t want her near any of you.

connor: hes got a point

Maggie<3: Have you never, in your life, had to bring her to a doctor?

Dr. Lanik: We use East Mercy so that you all keep your noses out of my life.

FreeWilly: ouch

April: I mean, if I had a daughter, I wouldn’t want any of you near her either.

Nat: Harsh, I trust you with my son

April: You’re different.

Bekker: Do I hear wedding bells?

Nat: @April What if we kissed in the doctor’s lounge… and we’re both girls?

Nat: Haha just kidding

Nat: Unless…?

April: Did you just hit on me with a meme

Nat: Did it work?

Other Bekker: another win for the gaydies

Other Bekker: THEY BOTH JUST WENT INTO THE DOCTORS LOUNGE JHGFKHFRH

Ethan Choi: Crockett laughed 

connor: do you read these messages to him?

Ethan Choi: Sometimes. He likes to be in the loop.

FreeWilly: hot take but. we could just add him back to the chat?

Ethan Choi: He’s not ready for that yet, but he does like to be updated on your lives and one-on-one texting is stressful for him

Other Bekker: we spend more time talking about crockett now than we did when he was in the chat

no-ah: Sweet I have my Crockett letter

Ethan Choi: I'll put them in your lockers. My shift is starting so I'm turning my phone to silent. 

Other Bekker: Crockett Time

Bekker: Did he write me one?

Other Bekker: @Bekker both mine and yours are in my locker i think. one is for "blonde bekker" and one is for "brunette bekker"

no-ah: That's what he has your contacts saved as 

Queen Elsa: Mine is just a smiley face sticker in an envelope?

Other Bekker: jsyk we should probably keep these private! this is important to him

Maggie<3: I'm so excited to see him again on Saturday, I've missed him.

FreeWilly: He's been busy. I think his program is like eight to five every day but Sunday

Nat: What's that even like?

Other Bekker: they have an in house aa group that meets a few times a day and theres a ton of other support like therapy to get to the root of the problem. i mean before he got sober the first time he was self medicating 

Other Bekker: he does a lot of art therapy i think. when he was inpatient he kept mailing paintings to my wife and i 

-

Curry (Not Dr.): Hey, it's Elsa Curry from Med. Sarah gave me your number. I was just wondering why you gave me a sticker?

Crockett: dont u put them on the inside of your binder? the one u put ur case notes in at the end of ur shift 

Curry (Not Dr.): How did you know that?

Crockett: u pull ur binder out when ur stressed to reference old cases. i thot u might like another sticker so u know ur not in this alone

Crockett: :)

-

[crickett has renamed the chat "dick bros"]

crickett: @connor do u wanna fuck again this weekend lmao

connor: ???

connor: i thought that was a one time thing

Ethan Choi: It doesn't have to be. 

-

Maggie<3: @Bekker @OtherBekker Sorry I'm running a little behind! I couldn't find my keys

Bekker: No harm, no foul!

[Bekker has sent an image to the chat]

Bekker: Definitely hurry, we're having so much fun!

-

Crockett: baby

HUBBY: I'm sitting right beside you.

Crockett: ik but im feeling kinda overwhelmed 

HUBBY: Do you want to go home?

Crockett: i think i just need air will you cover for me if someone comes looking

-

Other Bekker: THANK YOU @Maggie<3 FOR ACTUALLY HELPING CLEAN UP 

FreeWilly: sorry!

connor: sorry ahhhhhh i didnt think about it 

Nat: Congrats again, you two, this is huge!

April: ^^

no-ah: Will we get to meet her, or will she be a secret like Laniks daughter?

Bekker: You'll all definitely get to meet her, but let's not do so much at once? Adjusting to a new home is hard, and from what the adoption agency tells us, she's had a rough go of it.

no-ah: Of course! 

Queen Elsa: No little girl could have a better home! Congratulations on your daughter and I wish you really good luck. If you ever need help, we're all here!

Dr. Lanik: She's about eight, right?

Bekker: Yes

Dr. Lanik: If she needs help adjusting, let me know, and maybe Emma and I can help. She was about that age when I adopted her.

connor: the Lanik lore we are getting today omg

Dr. Lanik: You'll both be great parents, and @OtherBekker don't hesitate to let me know if you need extra time off. This is a big deal and you shouldn't have to stress about work when you should be worrying about your family. @Bekker I'll also ask Dr. Latham to be lenient with you as well.

Other Bekker: thank you from both of us <3

connor: who knew lanik had a heart.