#the euphoria of finding meds that work

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 1 - MONTH MINUS 6 - THE CONSULTATION

The specialest of special thanks to @ayviedoesthings for creating the original Dragon HRT story, and a big shoutout as well to @kaylasartwork, @welldrawnfish, @nyxisart, and @deadeyedfae for their takes on the concept! Every one of you is inspirational, and your work gives me so much second-hand gender euphoria!

Next

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"Miss Alexis, please come in."

I look around as I walk inside. Between the doctor being a balding middle-aged man and the office looking like any generic doctor's office, I'm honestly a little disappointed. I was hoping the infamous source of therian HRT would be a little more… I don't know. Exotic? Unique? I was half expecting the walls to have before and after photographs of clients, but I suppose when it comes down to it, this is a serious medical facility, not a beauty salon. I walk up to the desk and sit down in the chair.

"Now I understand you wish to be a… a tiger?"

I'm unable to suppress my euphoria at the idea, and I start grinning and nodding. "A white tiger! I haven't changed my fursona since I got one, it's about time I start embodying it!"

"Indeed… And I see on your medical history that you are transgender." He mutters under his breath, "Just like all the others…"

I give a little smirk. 'All the others' are the reason I'm here. If this guy is handing out meds that can turn people into dragons or fish or bats, then a tiger should be easy, right? It's a mammal, and not much bigger than a human, relatively speaking. I had even given some thought to the rumoured "Fifteen Minute Shortcut", but when it comes down to it, even if I did have the ungodly pain tolerance to withstand such a rapid transformation of my bone structure and musculature, I… don't really want to do it quickly. Mundane HRT has already been such an absolute gift in terms of euphoria from noticing the slow and gradual changes, I want to keep that up. I want to notice the little things.

"Now I'm afraid there are some requirements to be settled first…"

Oh boy. Here comes the bureaucratic bullshit. Everything that's been put in place to make sure Our Children don't Make A Terrible Mistake. When it comes down to it, bodily autonomy only counts when you're not one of the weirdos. The instant you decide to be capital-d Different, people start falling over themselves trying to talk you out of it.

"First of all, I see that you have been taking human hormone therapy for a little over six months. We do require a full year of human treatment before beginning therian treatments, and I'm afraid that is fully non-negotiable. There are matters of biology that require the body to be a certain degree of… receptive."

I was afraid of this, but at least it's not a deal-killer. Another half-year is bearable, even if I am going to be shaking with anticipation the entire time.

"I also see you have letters from a practicing physician and a social worker, but we do require a second psychologist to be involved in the process."

Okay. Absolute horseshit, but not impossible. All I've got to do is find another social worker or psychologist. And pay them for several months of sessions. And hope they don't decide I'm crazy for wanting to throw away my humanity. I can feel my expression souring…

"It's also required to live as your desired species for at least a year before beginning the process."

"What." I'm leaning forward and glaring at the doctor before I fully realize it. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that, without the… the requisite biology, or the inborn instincts, or the… the habitat!" I let out a frustrated growl. "Am I supposed to fly off to India or Bangladesh or somewhere, and start camping out in the wilderness??"

"Miss Alexis, please, I'm afraid these are… are the requirements set forth by the guidelines of -"

"Guidelines!" I slam a palm down on the desk between us, before letting out a frustrated breath. "Just that… Guidelines. You know, and I know, that a lot of people have come to you already, with a lot more… exotic requests. Flying animals? Aquatic animals? A fucking DRAGON??"

The doctor seems taken aback, maybe he didn't expect this level of resistance.

"What is even the natural habitat of a dragon anyway? Or the diet? Or the behaviours in the wild?? It's a mythical creature for gods' sakes, there's no firm evidence they even existed!!" I stare at him, unblinkingly, with what I dearly hope is a predatory glare. "But I do get it, though. You have to be absolutely sure I won't regret it. Liability, or whatever. …Maybe we just need to know how hard I can BITE."

Something changes in his expression. ...Malice? No, not quite. A sort of… satisfaction, maybe.

It was a test. He wanted to know whether I'd just roll over and accept the impossibility of my quest, or whether I was prepared to fight for it.

Joke's on him, just getting human HRT was such a godsdamned hassle, I already know how to fight.

He adjusts his glasses. "Perhaps there is something I can do for you… Let me get you some forms."

[arctrooper69]

Hi! I'm a Cody simp and I would love to see you write how Cody reacts to me graduating med school and reaching my lifelong dream

Of course! Congratulations on graduating medical school! I think every single clone would be so proud of you ❤️❤️❤️ It's hard work doing what you did and you pushed through and made it out on the other side. That's amazing! 🥰

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Shining Star

Cody thinks the world of you. His cyare has finally achieved their dreams!

Warnings: None. Just some fluffity fluff.

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You waited nervously behind the stage, fiddling with your robes and the tassel to your cap.

“Relax!” Your friend nudged you as she whispered. “He’ll be here!”

"I know..." You whispered back. "But...but what if he sees me and..."

"Stop." Your friend cut you off. "He's gonna see you and he's gonna be so kriffing proud. I know he is!"

You opened your mouth to respond but the line was moving. It was time to go.

***

Your name was called and you walked across the stage. Hardly listening to anything the announcer was saying, you focused on finding a certain Marshall Commander in the crowd. There he was, standing towards the back of the room. The anxiety that had been slowly creeping into your chest melted away, replaced by a euphoric sense of pride as the professor handed you your diploma. You beamed, locking eyes with the Commander. His face was strong and stoic but you could see the pride shimmering behind his serious demeanor as the lights from the stage lit up his eyes.

My cyare.

He stood tall in the crowd, stiffly at attention, giving you the respect you so deserved in the only way he knew how.

As you stood proudly, reciting your oaths beside your classmates, you kept your eyes on the Marshal Commander. His eyes hadn’t left yours for the entire ceremony and he wasn’t about to look away now - not at what was the happiest moment of your life so far.

The rest of the ceremony went by quickly.

You exited the stage, nearly skipping with an energized excitement, towards the back of the room where you'd seen him - but he wasn't there. The euphoric sense of excitement in your chest slowly ebbed.

Where had he gone? Did he really just leave without saying anything to you?

Your heart sank slightly. You'd known he was a busy man but at least he could've said goodbye - or at least commed you to tell you he couldn't stay. Tears of disappointment began to well behind your eyes as you walked back up to the front to grab your belongings. You didn't feel like celebrating. You knew the pride would return soon enough; you deserved this with or without Marshall Commander Cody there beside you. But right now you just wanted to go home.

Suddenly a hand wrapped itself around your wrist, yanking you into the waiting area behind the stage.

"Hey! I...." your shout of warning was cut off as a pair of warm lips met yours. Cody. He hadn't left after all.

Strong arms wrapped around you tightly, lifting you off your feet, spinning you around as he broke off the kiss.

Gone was that professional stiffness of a solider. A soft smile stretched across his lips as he gazed into your eyes. He set you gently back down onto your feet but didn't remove his hands from your waist.

"I'm so proud of you, cyar'ika." He said warmly in his deep, sensual voice. His eyes sparkled, caught in the lights from the dimly lit room. He placed a kiss to your forehead and brushed a stray hair from your face, tucking it safely back behind your ear.

"I told you that you could do it. I told you, you'd make it through and here we are."

The pride at your accomplishments swelled once again as you stood quickly onto your tip toes, throwing your arms around his neck.

"I did it!" You whispered gleefully, giggling with that rush of euphoria. "I did it!"

His lips met yours again and you closed your eyes, savoring every second of this momentous occasion.

"You did it cyar'ika!" He whispered back. "I love you so much! I'm so kriffing proud."

You pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes. "You know," you began, smiling, the feeling of euphoric pride still swelling inside. "I wasn't sure I'd make it this far."

"But you did!" Cody replied. "You did and you should be proud of yourself."

You nodded, "This is the proudest I've ever been. This is who I've wanted to be my whole life."

Cody's smile was dizzying as he looked down into your eyes, chest filled with pride. "When I met you, the first thing I noticed about you was your passion. You were so driven in everything you did. You love people. You want to heal and help. You want to see them thrive."

He placed another kiss to your forehead. "The world needs someone like you, cyar'ika. You're going to save so many lives."

I know nothing about medical school or graduating from medical school, so I hope that sounded okay! Congratulations again!

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If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[punks-never-die205]

How would Kid react to having a premature ejaculation or other sex fails ? I see him as someone who identifies himself with being the No 1 Super Lover. Might be having a hard time with embarrassment 🤨

Nah, I see Kid and his crew really, as pretty sex positive. Shit happens - sometimes you can't cum, sometimes it happens too fast.

Sometimes exhaustion sinks in before release does, sometimes your emotions crumble and you have to stop because the drop from euphoria is such a rough feeling you just go straight into aftercare.

Sometimes, you have to shit at the Worst Possible Time™.

Sex is wild, messy, and unpredictable - and adding kink and other dynamics means that you're usually taking even longer. I've had some scenes last half a day. I'm sure others I've dealt with longer.

your body doesn't always cooperate, and there's nothing shameful about that. Frustrating, certainly, it can be really frustrating, but I think Kid and the crew are pretty chill about it. Shit happens, you make the best of it, and try again later. Or try again different.

sometimes meds or drink will screw with you - drugs can be a crap shoot too. Sometimes one thing will give you an euphoria you couldn't imagine, and then the same shit will give you no release later on.

Being flexible about it is the best. I'm sure if Kid can't satisfying with his impressive dick, he'll find other ways, and if all his best just isn't doing it for you, then thems the breaks. I'm sure he has other tricks - massages, buying dinner, turning things into a group venture, taking a break and being soft and gentle in the shower, letting you relax and unwind until he starts slowly working you back up.

Sometimes nerves can shoot you in the back and relaxing is difficult, but I feel like he's got ways around that.

There's more than one way to be an awesome lover xD <3

[venusjailer]

Will I ever stop pathologising the AP main characters and creating incredibly detailed backgrounds riddled with childhood trauma? It’s unlikely!

(INSANELY LONG) (LIKE INSANELY) (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED) EXPLANATIONS BELOW

(And If you have hc’s feel free to share!)

Patrick: cmon. The entire plot of AP is literally him just begging to be noticed.

Bro is devoid of attention right until the very last scene (aka the one with his lawyer). Sorry to all the SiGmA mALe AMPS fans but this is not a “sigma 🥶”, this is a man who did not receive a MORSEL of affection during his formative years.

His obsession with ‘fitting in’ (ie being accepted and therefore cared about) through his clothes, his looks, his social circle; his outbursts of intense emotion and inability to regulate them (almost as if he was never taught how to do so); the way he views the women in his life in an almost maternal way (namely Evelyn and Jean) - he just needs a hug!!!

And some intense therapy. And heavy duty psych meds.

Paul: this one is partly canonical, partly not.

The way that his character is almost revered by the other guys at P&P is interesting; he comes over as this über cool, competent, successful finance bro almost to a greater extent than they think they are.

But then he gets drunk with Patrick away from the office and from the constraints of corporate professionalism and becomes this silly goofy little guy.

I don’t necessarily think his work ‘persona’ is an act: I think it’s the parts of himself that he has to accentuate in order to succeed.

Also - I took influence for this from the amazing Paul character studies written by my dear friend @leoblooms on AO3 - please check them out

Luis: this one is pretty self-explanatory.

He’s the only confirmed canonically queer character in AP (although, come on, Patrick’s canon closet is made of glass at this point). And yet - in a way that so many LGBT+ people have suffered with throughout history and sadly even to this day - he can never, ever show it. Being openly gay in his environment would make him a social pariah.

Instead, he has to fit in: he’s marrying a woman, he’s acting like ~one of the guys~, he’s hoping that he can suffocate that part of himself by burying it six feet underground. But as so many of us know all too well: you can’t hide who you are forever. The bathroom scene with Patrick just proves this.

I also wanted to make a note of this because it’s very interesting to me - I read the most AMAZING fic a couple of years ago that was written from Courtney’s perspective, and in it it was mentioned that Luis is Catholic. I’m a Christian as well (from a famously progressive denomination) and although a lot of attitudes are changing within the Catholic Church, particularly right now, the ‘gay = sin’ mentality does prevail for many.

So it makes sense that if Luis was raised Catholic he has been suppressing that part of himself for a very long time. I can see him lying to himself and having girlfriends in high school.

Courtney: my literal baby girl. I’ve written a whole 18k character study on her because I find her so canonically fascinating.

My headcanon is that her father was absent from her life from a young age - but this is rooted in how she actually acts in the source material.

In the boardroom scene, Luis thanks Patrick for “taking care of Courtney last night”. To me, it sounds like he’s taking on a role that’s almost paternal. She is also notably reliant, and almost clingy, on the men in her life: telling Patrick she can’t go out because she’s waiting for Luis to call, and practically begging Patrick to call her after they’ve slept together.

Additionally there’s the whole ‘fucking my best friend’s boyfriend’ thing - I’m getting WAY off topic here but I see so much of her in Cassie from Euphoria. Unless someone is purposefully malicious and nasty, I think there’s always a reason for that kind of thing, even if it is complex and unsavoury.

I hate to use the term “daddy issues” because it absolves absent/abusive fathers of all of their damage and unfairly places the blame on young women, but if I had to describe a reason for why she might act in this way - having seen it first-hand myself from many people - that would be it.

Evelyn: so I did take some influence from Reese Witherspoon’s character in Legally Blonde here - but I think Evelyn is actually one of the smartest characters in AP and so I feel it’s fitting.

She comes over as incredibly ditzy and shallow, but remember we’re seeing and reading all of this from Patrick’s perspective - of course he’s not going to have a high opinion of her, because…it’s Patrick Bateman were talking about here.

In reality, she’s probably one of the most socially clued-in characters. For example: she effortlessly hosts big gatherings with grace and decorum even if the majority of guests are, let’s be honest, fucking insufferable.

She’s also the only character who can actually handle Patrick and meets him on his own level. She absolutely refuses to take any of his bullshit (“what am I supposed to do with that? Floss with it?”).

Her actions and force prove her to be the strong willed and savvy and to me that suggests intellect, as much as it may be hidden - again, due to the environment she exists in.

Bryce: he’s so interesting.

I’ve not written as much about him in my fics as the others, but his actions in the source material suggest that underneath his finance bro Wall Street image, he’s someone who’s very disillusioned, and almost broken.

I really wish the scene of his…episode?…in the club hadn’t been cut from the film. I’d recommend anyone to watch it (and the rest of the deleted scenes because they’re class) if they’ve not seen it already.

There’s also The Informers, the book and film adaptation of another of of Bret Easton Ellis’ works, which features a young Tim Bryce (referred to as Price) and the complex relationship with his father. I’ve not read/watched it in full yet, but whilst they’re on holiday Bryce’s father gets drunk and acts lecherous and gross towards young women on the beach, and Bryce is disgusted by this (perhaps he’s not as much of a raging misogynist as his peers?), and then makes ‘joking’ comments about Bryce being the subject of attraction by other men, to which Bryce walks out on him (perhaps he’s less condemning of homophobia than the others? Or, possibly…maybe he has less than hetero feelings himself? Not to spoil any of Mergerizations but I headcanon him as bisexual tbh).

This behaviour suggests that, at least as a teen, Bryce was very assertive of what was and wasn’t okay and was happy to make these views known.

But due to bullying by his father and, again, the environment that he likely grew up in, he has to suppress this part of himself to be accepted.

WOWWWW that was a whole ass essay. If you’ve read to this part, 1) I’m sorry 2) THANK YOU 3) I love you!!!!

[trashbag-baby666]

okay okay heheheh trans cros idea

just the weekly after care period between him and bubbles after his top surgery 😭😭😭 bubbles just about chains him to the bed cause he’s always so restless and fidgety despite not being able to do much. and he brings him his meals in bed and bubbles playing nurse for him and he’s just so sweet and of course cros cries cause “you’re so sweet to me bubbles.”

oh and and and once he’s more healed bubbles helping him get dressed in a muscle tee like he always has wanted to and when he looks in the mirror at himself he breaks down but it’s cause he’s happy!!!

STAWP I LUV ALL OF THESE SM!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺

MOTA Masterlist!

But you’re right! Croz would NOT sit still the first initial week. After they’re home Bubbles gets him all tucked into bed to take a nap. But suddenly Croz is like up trying to do something else. Granted he’s a little loopy from the pain meds.

Croz is trying to find his cat and Bubbles has to wrestle him back into bed.

“Harry, what’re you doing? I left the room for five seconds.”

“I want Bitsy to cuddle.”

“We gotta go lay down and nap first, sweetie.”

Bubbles definitely helps Croz with his drains…we’re talking about Harry Crosby here just the thought of it makes hime woozy and nauseated.

By the second day he knows Croz is in a little more of a worldly pain. He wakes up before Croz and just lays next to his boy till he wakes up. He’s raking his hands through Croz’s soft, dark brown curls. He isn’t sure if he’s seen Croz actually rest this much since he passed out during SAT’s week.

When he wakes up he gets him his pain meds, helps him adjust or use this bathroom. Bubbles is there just to wait on him hand and foot but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Believe me Croz is eating Kraft Mac and cheese for each meal. It’s easy enough for Bubbles to make the cups of it in the microwave for him. There’s some emotional tears on day two from Croz😭

“Alright, here’s your Mac and cheese and I refilled your glass of water. Anything else?”

Croz stuck his bottom lip out watching Bubbles lay another blanket ontop of him tucking it around his legs. Then the hot watery tears of emotion and Croz’s pain meds are mixing.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, Harry? Anything hurt?”

“No,” he shook his head tears spilling from his eyes, “Bubs, you’re just so sweet to me.”

When Croz is cleared to shower again, Bubbles puts a step stool in the shower for him. Bubbles makes him sit there and just relax while he massages the shampoo and conditioner into his hair. He helps him shave the stubble off himself. Yeah he could do it by himself but Bubbles touch is just so silky soft. Bubbles is having a wonderful time playing nurse for Croz

What makes it all the more worth it is just seeing the pure joy and happiness across Croz’s face when he sees his chest. Bubbles agreed to take him shopping after he healed. But now that he’s wanting to wear something other than button downs and it’s been a few weeks.

Croz is standing at his closet looking through his clothes and finds a muscle shirt he had for dance. But he didn’t like the side boob action it’d give him and he kind of just tucked it away for the post top surgery days.

“Help me get dressed?”

Bubbles heart does its little flutter seeing the excited wide smile and glint in Croz’s eyes. He could never say no to those soft puppy eyes.

After he helps Croz change he walks him over to the mirror in his room and tells him to open his eyes. Croz almost loses it just right there, he’s looking from different angles and poses. Bubbles is watching excitedly seeing Croz’s pure euphoria of his flat chest. His slightly muscular dancers arms are teasing the ever loving shit out of Bubbles.

“You been working out?” He softly squeezes Crozs bicep softly.

“What are we, Buck and Bucky now?”

[midwinterwings]

Happy deitykin euphoria moments :D this is the first time I feel comfortable in my body holy crap. Here's some nerding and yay maybe this blog will be positive instead of having repeated mental breakdowns...yay

*deep breath*

I have COOL WINGS now! (Bodily) I still love them, I hope they stay. My wings are more conceptual as they shift, theyre kind of like shadows, because they more represent flying/realm crossing than my 'true form''s wings. So they kind of flicker like shadows but they are sort of corporeal in that I can feel them somewhat. Nontheless, I love feeling them and stretching them so they fill up my entire room. It feels great. I can even sort of control them now, for example stretching them, or flapping them, whereas before I couldn't really control them. Although now I feel weird lying on my back because owchie even though my wings are made of shadows I can't really banish them at will. It's more of a spiritual ouch than a physical ouch but still, it feels so weird.

2. My talons also moved to the physical realm too and it feels great! They took root where my hands would have been. Theyre sharp.

3. I can finally read mythology without having a breakdown! Yay...my sense of identity is extremely strong these days. I do have self doubt at times but it dosent consume me and cause a meltdown cuz yea reading the myths would trigger me bad as the self doubt spiral would start.

4. I moved most of me into the physical realm and stretched myself out to fill the body with me so now it's mine. And I feel great. I'm able to fly and vibe as myself even in the physical realm (no not in a physical manner obviously, its sorta like.-)

Imagine the body is an empty rubber toy. I have brought me out of just incorporeal realm and 'base realm' and stretched me out from the inside and filling the rubber toy so bodily I'm most of what im like in base realm - not in a literal way but I'm able to express me completely in some aspects with the limited material I have to work with, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Admittedly I piggybacked on my raven form which is already firmly in the body, my deity form (which is another expression of my raven form) isnt quite done figuring out where everything goes but it's got a good template. Holy shit you have no idea how many years it took to learn how to exist and feel normal.

5. I figured out who I am which is...*flops on ground* I've gotten beaten up so many damn times it was fucking hard, because we kept finding more and more Stuff to unravel like plurality and all the while existence is painful...and jarring, as it is, while the body's 'family and friends' think its the anxiety and adhd that are the reason they had no idea we'd been trying to learn how to make us gain a physical form in different realms lol and learn how to 'shut off' or dull other ones because HEY its HARD to live in so many ok?? Meds helped. Now I can only feel 3, 4 max. Could probably feel more if I wanted but...no thanks. I just wanna exist here man I have better senses and there's good food like pizza and stuff even if I can't fly ok.

The relief and being able to just..exist..without encountering pitfall after jarring pitfall is Hecking rad. I need to rest. At the same time I'm so excited and relieved, it's the first time I feel real, present in this realm, whereas before it was like staring at the physical realm through a pane of thick half opaque glass, unable to interact, to just watch.

But interact I shall, and interact I will. *puffs out chest and flies into a window*

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

this is a WIP probably gonna work on this sometime, but in the meantime I feel like this is right up many people's alley so I figure I might as well share it. forgive any errors or disorganization, I've been off one of my meds for a week now and also in general not in the best place mentally or physically.

content warning for the usual, blood, animal death, mild gore, pretty in line with the last Majexatli fic. Halsin and Majexatli are the main focus but Astarion is also mentioned because of the theme of blood and hunting ✌🏽

//

Majexatli wondered, sometimes, what drew them to the hunt. It wasn’t something they took the time to consider before the Nautiloid, when they prowled the Sword Coast in wildshape. Back then they rationalized it, it was much easier to hunt and eat in wildshape than to gather ingredients and make camp and cook something. Having most of their meals be bloody and raw made the ones they had outside of wildshape that much more special.

Now, though? They spent their days as a person, every night there was a camp with plenty of rations, there was wine and cooked meats and soups and breads enough for everyone. There were traders who could sell them any array of foods, greens and mushrooms a plenty along the road, abandoned campsites and kitchens with all sorts of meats and produce. Majexatli didn’t need to hunt, every night they could curl up by a fire with a full belly.

So what drew them to the hunt? Why did they still feel a hunger clawing at them? A restlessness in their own skin? 

Sometimes at night Majexatli watched Astarion hunt while prowling in the shadows and lurking in trees. He was effective enough, but clumsy. As much as he has grown better at stealthing, ambushing enemies with his bow or dagger, he was different when he had just his teeth, when his mind was preoccupied with hunger. It was quick and inelegant, never drawn out, he picked whatever animal he could find, it didn’t matter what it was so long as they had blood. It seemed wasteful.

Sometimes Majexatli entertained the thought of teaching him how to hunt properly, the art of drawing it out. Maybe they could have him hunt them, make him prove himself before spilling their blood. Never were his eyes more present and alive than when their blood was on his tongue.

They could teach him the rules of the hunt.

They shouldn’t, they knew, shouldn’t drag him down with them. They were supposed to be the kind and wise druid coaxing him back from the edge, rather than echoing the dark whispers in their mind and showing him the shards of divinity that could be in everything if you tore into the flesh enough, how if you swallowed holiness bloodied and raw enough it could fix you from the inside.

But Astarion was a vampire, undead, he needed blood to live. He had a reason for his bloodshed, he would starve without it. What reason did Majexatli have? If their hunt was just a supplication, a prayer, an offering, then why did they hunger? Was devotion making them a monster, or was their piety a justification for the monster they already were?

If they weren’t a monster, if they were truly good, then Majexatli would have been at camp, basking in the victory of the Shadow Curse being lifted, finding what pleasure could be found in the brief moments before they chased the Elder Brain to Baldur’s Gate. Kethric Thorm was dead, the Nightsong freed, Thaniel made whole again, Gale alive, Wyll would be free of his contract soon, Jaheira had joined their camp. There was a veritable feast around the campfire, endless companionship, if they wanted they could be pulling someone away to somewhere private and chasing whatever pleasure they could.

Instead they were in the forest, hidden in the shadows, following a trail of blood through the trees, the buzzing euphoria of the hunt dulling the hunger that had dug its claws into them. 

Slaying the young is forbidden.

The brown bear was full-grown, only slightly larger than Majexatli’s current form. In any other form it would have been stupid, reckless to take on a bear. It might still be, but they wanted a challenge, wanted to impress. It wasn’t often Majexatli took the form of a Dire Wolf, they wanted to make the most of it.

And a bear claw was one of Malar’s holy symbols.

Make your kills long and bloody.

They had jumped from the shadows, snapping at the bear’s hind leg, making sure to bite and tear enough for the bear's blood to spill on the grass below. They had let the bear get a swipe on them, feigning a pained yelp as it spilled their blood in turn, run off into the trees as though afraid and wounded.

Oh, Majexatli had been disappointed when the bear didn’t follow, didn’t try to hunt them down in turn, but they could adapt. Keeping to the shadows, every so often purposefully stepping on a twig, to watch the bear stop in tense silence, sniff the air. Then they would dash out, pounce and bite and then run off again before the bear could truly react. Majexatli shouldn’t have enjoyed it, they knew, but the only thought in their mind was blood.

And they followed the trail of blood through the trees, stalking, tracking, thrilling at the adrenaline in their veins that kept them warm and warded off the cold breeze. Majexatli let the blood lead them to the edge of a clearing, down to the river’s edge.

The bear was wounded, patches of its fur stained red and glistening in the moonlight. The wounds weren’t grave, bites and claw marks purposefully shallow, just enough to bleed, to distract it. There in the open there were no twigs or dried foliage to alert the bear to their presence as it licked its wounds on the river bank. Crouching in the grass, Majexatli almost felt at home, they could almost forget about the Elder Brain and the Nautiloid. 

They let out a growl as they lunged, managing to knock the bear over as their jaw clamped down on the juncture of its neck, heart jumping and blood singing  as they held it there, felt the bear thrash beneath them claws swiping at them blindly, weakly.

And then Majexatli’s blood turned to ice as they felt the fur beneath their teeth fade, muscles reshape and suddenly their teeth were sinking into a person’s flesh, so much more fragile, so easy for the flesh to give. The rush of blood in their mouth filled them with terror. They should have released immediately, should have let go of the shoulder as soon as they felt the change, as soon as they heard a cry of pain in a voice so familiar. They should have relaxed their jaw—but why? Did they want to let go and drop wildshape? Or did they want to let go so they could adjust their bite, shift their teeth from shoulder to neck, find the jugular and sink their teeth in—

A strong hand found the scruff of their neck somehow, even as now this form dwarfed the man beneath them. Blunt fingers dug into their fur, into the flesh and muscle there, more gentle than he had any right to be.

“Majexatli,” 

They could feel the vibrations of his chest beneath their teeth, Halsin’s voice slightly strained, yet firm and with none of the hatred Majexatli deserved.

Majexatli’s jaw relaxed, teeth pulling out of flesh and they knew blood was spilling from the wounds. They hadn’t felt any bones snap beneath their teeth, yet their mind raced with images of what they would see when they pulled away, visions of Halsin with his throat torn open, bleeding out before they could do anything. A memory surfaced, unbidden, so visceral even 20 years later, how quickly they had bled out, how they had spent those few seconds begging for Silvanus to save them, calling up every prayer they had memorized, every supplication and offering they had given. They had spent every breath striving for the balance Silvanus wanted and he had simply watched their lungs be torn from their chest, as if their slaughter was simply an accepted collateral in his divine plan. 

“Majexatli,”

There was a hand on their face, and it took everything in Majexatli not to snarl and snap at the gentleness.

They couldn’t bring themselves to meet his eyes, instead staring at his shoulder, the tears in his tunic, the bloodstains, the bite marks still lazily oozing blood. He must have cast something, a healing spell to stem the worst of the bleeding and coax the shallowest wounds closed.

“It’s nothing serious,” His voice was so genuine, “I’ve had much worse, it’s alright. We’ve all had moments where we lose ourselves to the beast,”

Halsin let out a slight laugh, but Majexatli could hear a slight pain, the way it was slightly forced, as though he was trying and failing to ignore the Dire Wolf that stood over him. He knew, he had to know that Majexatli could snap his neck with their teeth, that his blood lingered in their mouth. Majexatli wanted to be horrified, disgusted, and they were, but they also wanted to lick their lips and savor the taste.

“Are you alright?”

They finally met his eyes and recoiled, from the concern in his face, from the cautious but naïve trust. He should be running or shifting back to a bear that could snap them in half, they would deserve it.

Majexatli ran. Darting off into the trees, ignoring Halsin’s voice calling after them, blindly zigzagging through the forest as if they were trying to shake someone off their tail. But the beast they were trying to outrun was the one wearing their own skin.

They crashed out of wildshape, into the dirt hard enough to skin their knees, their palms, though they could hardly tell their own blood apart from Halsin’s. Curled up on the ground there, they watched as the moonlight filtering through the trees slowly faded and was replaced by sunrise.

If your prey escapes, they have earned their freedom and whatever boon seems fit.

Majexatli didn’t know if there was anything they could give that would make up for what they did. But they also weren’t sure if Halsin was the prey, or they were.

[never-not-ever]

I met with my doctor and it was a nice meeting. We talked about meds and she put me on Naltrexone today. When she mentioned it I laughed and was like "are you serious???". I think when in the beginning she put me on it and then took me off it cause it "wasn't working". I've mentioned since then going back on it for self harm urges and she was like nah. Then today I was talking about how last Summer I was drinking so much and it's such a go to. Like watching Euphoria, I miss that feeling of being carefree and drunk.

So she mentioned Naltrexone and we started it today. Oddly enough weight loss is a side effect, as is it with Wellbutrin. The combination of Naltrexone and Wellbutrin create a weight loss medication called Contrave. So naturally I'm excited about this considering I've been taking Seroquel as a prn a lot lately and increased hunger and weight gain are common side effects.

I also had my DMH meeting today. It's weird, I've always had this preconceived idea that DMH is this scary, overworked agency that doesn't really care/put much effort because they're so overworked? I honestly don't know why I thought that. But my meetings with my case manager and then this meeting today with her and the Medical Director of the area, I definitely feel supported and that assumption is gone.

Ironically the Medical Director knows my doctor here, I guess they used to work at MGH before. She's also worked here at McLean before too. She was really nice and validating. The purpose of the meeting was to come up with a plan for discharge and how to be supported when I leave. I mentioned my ideal outpatient plan would include a short partial program, meeting with a therapist twice a week, seeing my doctor once a month for meds, maybe 1 or 2 group therapies too. They're going to help me find a DBT therapist.

In the end they said this could take a few weeks. Which makes me worry about things getting bad again. If I want to do the partial program here at McLean I need to stop self harming. Everyone thinks last Monday, so over a week, was the last time. Two days ago I started cutting/scratching my thigh. I guess you could call it cutting but it's a lot less severe as what I normally do on my arm and hand, so I feel like it's "just scratches".

It sucks cause I've been wearing short sleeves a little more casually on the unit. So it's like hey I've been cutting for the past 2, almost 3 days and no one knows or suspects because you can't see it on my normal area. I hate lying. I need to seriously cut the shit and think about goals. Partial program here, stop self harming. Even though no one knows, its bound to come out eventually when the "scratches" on my thigh aren't good enough anymore.

Now I'm just rambling about stupid shit.

[septic-skele]

"Blue's not happy about this, y'know," Pike mumbled, a bleary attempt at a grin tugging at his jaw. "Real far from happy, actually. He's probably gonna pull y'aside about it soon, give a d-d-dressing down."

"Stay still and stay quiet. You shouldn't even be smiling right now," Sable chided without looking up from his work, though after a few beats his suspicious curiosity got the better of him, as Pike knew it would. "What exactly is Blue's grievance?"

"This." Pike's hand wavered as he gestured vaguely at their current position: he with his back against the wall, his brother with a knee bearing down on his ribs, an elbow propped against his collarbone and the other hand gripping the crown of his skull to keep it craned at the proper angle. "I heard he an' some of the other sweet puffs think you're dopin' me t'keep me docile."

In his peripheral vision he could just make out his brother’s eyelights flashing briefly but his tone remained icily even. "Really."

"Mhm. S'kinda funny, huh?" A slurred giggle escaped, shaking his shoulders, which urged Sable to dig his elbow further in as reproach.

"Stop that. You're going to hurt something."

"An' that's my point. Even they're fallin' for th' shtick. Got 'em all c-convinced. Cruel master, defiant pet. Like they think I could do somethin' to hurt you or...verse vice." It took a solid five seconds for him to do a double take. "V-Vice verse, I mean. Versa. Etcetera. Et all. Et t-tu."

"Yes, thank you, I think I get the point." The point was that he and his brother were doomed to be misunderstood no matter where they went, no matter who they wished they could trust. Even when it was supposed to be like looking into a mirror, those Sans and Papyrus saw Sable and Pike as nothing but a dirty, unappealing reflection. Was this how Red and Edge felt when they first made contact with the others? How had they overcome it? How did they think of their swapped, fallen selves?

How could he blame them for jumping to conclusions as he pushed this rather alarmingly large syringe further into his brother's jaw? What else could they think?

What else could he do?

"Th' point," Pike breathed faintly, suppressing a shiver as the needle found its way past scar tissue, dust welling around it. "Th' p-point..."

The point was that Sable was doing good by him, no matter how it looked from someone else's point of view; he'd be doing much better if he didn't have to bother. After all these years he really shouldn't have to nurse the stupid babybones who nearly got his jaw ripped off by a mere glancing blow, never healing, only coping, patching, maintaining through whatever means and methods they could find. He was the problem, not Sans, and the others ought to learn the difference, but that was too big a mouthful for too foggy a headspace as the dubiously acquired meds took their course.

Over the next few hours all he knew for sure was the euphoria blunting the edge of the pain was his brother’s doing, and he loved him all the more for it.

[blookmallow]

ok here is the Post Of Morbid Questions im trying to find answers for due to fallout ocs.... if anyone has any ideas or knows how to find answers on these let me know bc i have Not been successful

what might the Courier's bullet scar look like, and what longterm side effects might they be coping with after taking a bullet to the head

the game's answer to this seems to just be handwavy "stimpacks fixed it" since you don't visibly have a scar when the player character's face is visible, but i want my own designs to reflect that injury and i cannot find a clear answer on what it might look like. mostly it seems like they should've been missing a lot more skull than they were. best answer i could come up with for the side effects is that brain trauma can lead to memory loss, seizures, problems with impulse control/emotional regulation, vision problems, and a whole lot of other things. so ive tried to consider that for my new vegas characters. i havent really done much with anyone other than bonnie though. anyway my attempts at researching this mostly have come up with "you'd just be dead" but what if you DIDN'T dead, though. what happens then

also, as a sidenote question, would it be possible that doc mitchell (i keep calling him doc marten. why am i doing this. stop it) could have extracted the bullet intact enough for the courier to keep it. i want bonnie to have it on a necklace but i cant get a clear answer on that either

2. how exactly would chems work / how would it affect them

i dont really know anything about real world drugs so im not really sure how to approach this subject. i know a little about how addiction and withdrawal works, but not much other than vague awareness of how people act when high on weed, and lsd makes you hallucinate. i dont really know what it feels like, why someone might use them, what longterm effects it might have

i learned med-x is pretty much just morphine, which is intended as a pain killer, also apparently can cause "feelings of euphoria," so that sounds like it would be a very likely addiction in the wasteland. makes it all hurt less. makes you feel good. i think initially taking it for pain (justifiable, it is medicine, after all) and then developing an addiction would be an easy trap for wastelanders to fall into. i think both my fallout 4 protags would be susceptible to this especially if they hang around hancock and get talked into it

psycho seems to cause some kind of... berserker mode mind break, so it makes sense that would be popular with raiders, but im not sure why you'd want to use it otherwise. just sounds like a great way to get yourself killed to me. i never use it in-game so im not really sure what its for

as far as i can tell buffout is just steroids, so. desire to be strong/push yourself to the limit/unbeatable is obvious living in wasteland conditions

mentats seem to be like. adderoll, or something? increased focus and cognition. im not sure why hancock uses them, though. he's told me it's his favorite ("makes me feel intellectual") but im not really sure what recreational purpose that serves if he's not using them to focus on tasks or something. i think im not fully understanding what these do. i think it makes sense for my courier, struggling with cognitive damage after the head injury, to use them pretty regularly though (and new vegas gives you a lot of situations where you can use them to help pass intelligence/perception checks so i Do use them)

jet is the one i really dont understand. i see this one a Lot with in-game chem addicts/find them all over the place in raider drug dens so it's clearly popular but i do not understand what it does. game mechanics-wise it functions to make time appear to slow down, but i don't know why you would want that outside of a combat situation where you need to be able to react fast. the wiki says it also provides a rush/high, i suppose. could just be that it's the easiest to get your hands on

it's also made from fertilizer. so there's that. no one talks about that and i dont know why

3. what changes or long-term effects would the vault 111 survivor have after being frozen for so long

i cant find anything on this and i guess it's probably due to "we don't know" since that kind of cryogenic technology doesn't really exist in the real world. we've never frozen someone for 200 years and then let them out again. the game doesn't acknowledge this having any effect on them at all, and i just can't believe there wouldn't be something. what's preventing them from going into shock and just dying of hypothermia / extreme frostbite. i dont really understand the science of how cryostasis would work. even if we just accept "it just works" i still feel like there should be some kind of longterm side effects. nerve damage, maybe? i think ruby (my first fallout 4 protag) at least has some trauma around feeling too cold or feeling like she can't move. cryo mines/grenades probably fuck her up.

4. follow up question, the absolute most SPECIFIC one i cannot figure out to save my life: if someone were to have an open wound, and then suddenly enter cryostasis for, say, several hundred years, what would happen

i ask this because i think lucas (my second fallout 4 oc) would have reacted violently to his wife's murder. he would have been fighting to get out of that pod until he was bleeding and it wouldn't even have slowed him down. i think he severely fucked up his hands, and then immediately got frozen again. so my question is, what would that do

if we can assume cryostasis does not cause frostbite damage to normal tissue, would it also not damage open/exposed tissue? or would the ice soak in and destroy the cells in that part of your skin. would you just unfreeze and it would resume bleeding again like it just happened seconds ago? would it heal while it was frozen?

my best guess is that it would sort of... heal wrong, like a poorly set broken bone (and if he broke his fingers, it certainly would have) or get infected, at least. i want to say whatever happened caused him to lose a few fingers but i cannot figure out if that's viable or not. i like the image of him stumbling out of the vault confused and angry and broken with several dead fingers he now has to find a way to cut off. i want lucas doing horrendously ill-advised surgery on himself to be a recurring theme

[vexingly-verbose]

Since starting Abilify I don't have special interests anymore, so I lack the drive to follow through on finishing fanfiction. I miss writing.

I don't get panic attacks anymore, I generally live with less panic and anxiety, I can function in our messed up capitalist society better, feel happier and generally have emotions within a normal range instead of intense range.

Sometimes I miss the euphoria of finding something new to love and my brain just circling around the new interest for months to years on end.

But I don't miss the constant fear and anxiety.

I take 3 medications a day to approximate neurotypical functioning. I exercise and meditate to help manage my mental health (gotta have the skills to go along with the pills, but I can't consistently do the skills or find them as useful without the pills).

I miss the intensity of interest.

Not entirely sure where I'm going with this post.

I knit, I finish knitting projects. I also have little desire to consume media.

I guess it's just a ramble into the void that I found a way to trade some autistic traits for peace of mind and it's a weird experience even as I've been in this state for years.

I don't want to downplay how awesome it is to be in a normal range (maybe slightly more anxious than healthy) of emotions. Between Abilify and Wellbutrin my mood is stable. ADHD meds mean I can achieve things at work and build skills in my spare time. Compared to the mess I was prior to this combo, it's amazing.

But I miss writing and I miss fandom. It's worth it, for sure, but it sucks stability has cost.

[iwishtequilawasfree]

ומזעיק (invisible)

[I chose Yiddish. I don't know why. I just kinda wanted something different. Like, at one point in my life, finding words in different languages was a thing for me. Specially, in re: character names.]

It's interesting when you listen to people when they talk to other people. It tells you a lot about a person.

Language is precise. It's a science. It's a direct channel to what you want people to know.

What you say, and how you say it -- it paints the picture.

Even if you fuck up what you mean, don't know what you mean or have a poor handle on the English langauge, what you say still does the same thing.

So when you have a person... a person you say you love, you should refer to them as such.

Maybe I just want to hear it.

I think I just want the acknowledgment from them. The ever resolute "them". I hate *them*. I always will. I'll always save face, and I'll always be kind. I have home training, I'm respectful. I'll always play the game. I feel like they're all clawing at the (our) door, waiting for me to fail. Waiting for us to fail.

They all think they can do better. I hear the way they refer to me, how they go silent.

Thing is...

None of them have put in the work. They're all just... there when it's good. When the meds are just right, when there's alcohol and the times are still good, when there are drugs, when he's pliable, when he's agreeable, when he's not in tears for no reason, when he's not pacing, when he's not having a full ass breakdown.

They're nowhere to be found at 7AM when he's walking into their home, when he's angry, when he's off his meds, when he's just sitting and crying, when he's berating his ability to father, after alcoholic euphoria when it's just sad drunk fuck, when the serotonin has sweat out, when there's nothing left but a puddle of depression and sadness.

He's been hard-launched in my circle.

And that changes things. Probably in a bad way for us. They will be there though. They'll be there, just on the other side of the (our) door.

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[uncloseted]

u dont have to answer this if its too personal but would you be able to give some insight to what taking adhd meds for the first time felt like? If you felt it gave you a new life or if it took a while to see changes or if you find its changed your personality in any way? Im in the early stages of getting diagnosed and was wondering what it feels like after taking the meds (I know everyone is different though and has different experiences!!!!)

Sure! I'm happy to answer. For me, the biggest problem I had with my ADHD is what (I now know is called) task paralysis. I constantly had this problem where I wouldn't be able to do anything, and when I asked people how they got stuff done, they would be like, "oh, you just make a list" or "you just have to push through it and get the thing done." And those responses would always baffle me, because... how do you get yourself to make a list? How do you force yourself to push through a task you need or want to get done? I always felt like they were answering a different question than the one I was asking. For people who don't experience task paralysis, it's feels kind of like if someone told you to put your hand on a hot stove. Physically, your body can move your hand and put it on the stove, but your brain won't let you do it no matter how hard you try to force it.

So when I started taking ADHD medication, the biggest change was that I finally understood how other people could just do stuff. It was like my brain turned on for the first time. All of a sudden I could just... do things. I don't know how to express how wild it was to experience that for the first time. For me, it really was life changing. I notice other benefits as well. My medication helps me to regulate my emotions better- bad things stick with me less and I have an easier time practicing gratitude and focusing on good things that happen. I feel more capable and less anxious. I can let my perfectionistic tendencies go because I no longer need them to get anything done. I have more energy than I did before because I'm no longer wasting effort on trying to force myself to do stuff. I can build routines and habits in a way that I couldn't before. I can follow through on ideas that I have and things that I want to do. In terms of personality, I think I'm pretty much the same, just... better? I'm more confident and more willing to stand up for myself than I have been in the past.

As you said, though, different people have different experiences, and it make take some time to find a medication and dosage that works for you if you do have ADHD. Some people experience temporary feelings of euphoria (which are not an intended effect and will eventually go away). Some people describe taking medication as making their brain "quiet", as allowing them to think linearly, or as making them feel more calm. For some people, it allows them to be less restless and allows them to be able to sit for longer periods of time. For others, it actually makes them feel sleepy because they can relax for the first time ever. What effects a person will see really depends on their individual struggles and brain chemistry. But across the board, ADHD medication will work right away, since unlike SSRIs, they don't need to build up in your system to have an impact, which makes it easier to know whether or not they're right for you.

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I recently decided to try something different and asked my neuropsych (who I am soon losing to retirement) to try putting me on some ADHD meds in lieu of my antidepressants (mixing the two would have bad side effects based on the type of meds I was on). My old meds did help with mood and energy but not as much as they originally did and I wanted something to improve my focus and motivation and hopefully my energy levels. And y’all, so far it feels life-changing. I’ve been on these for a week now and holy shit I actually feel like doing stuff? I’m actually having a good time? What is this sorcery?! Suddenly my stack of WIPs looks less daunting and I’m actually excited about writing again, and about life in general again. Idk if the effect will always be this strong - like I said, the antidepressants lost effectiveness over time, but for now I’m gonna enjoy actually having the motivation to get out of bed in the morning and actually do stuff. I feel kinda like how I used to (and with better concentration) before the depression kicked in literally half my life ago. Which is a depressing thought in and of itself but yk...

I’d been resistant to messing with my meds for a long time because I’ve had previous experiences with unwanted side effects and I didn’t want to mess with a mostly functional system and risk falling into a major episode. Despite my thirst for adventure I’ve long been pretty risk-averse due to trauma, but I’m glad I finally tried it. I didn’t know if they would work because I was briefly on Ritalin as a kid and was taken off of it (idk why), but I have neurodiverse friends on similar meds who found it helpful so I tried it anyway.

My point is, there’s no shame in taking meds to make up for something being off in your body. I used to balk at the idea that I could be autistic and had some shame about it, but accepting it allowed me to be happier and to have some compassion for myself, and I guess this was the next step in terms of giving my brain/body what it needs to function optimally. I really do hope the effect lasts and I can really get back to living again.

[ajaxctrl]

you sometimes wonder if albedo’s even real.

in college, almost everyone seems to be caught up in their own oblivion. it has been a common sight on campus, primarily within the confines of diluc’s owned coffee shop, for students to at least carry more than one cup of caffeinated beverage accompanied by their electronics that aid them in their designated work. 

nevertheless, even with the stockpile of college responsibilities hurled at your fellow students, they appear to still have an extensive amount of free time to engage in gossip. albedo is ofttimes at the receiving end of such disingenuous idle talks. although he isn’t one to pay heed to things that are below him, you however, are one to do so.

in such unconstrained conversations, you hear an abundance of ludicrous things about albedo. some coming off in a position of ignorance, some were just harmless impressions, some were just downright wrong and are baseless conjectures. you oftentimes hear from first years from bio science that they dub him as aloof, as cold as stone, dead to the world. some from the clinical med department even made an online forum on reddit discussing why they would not date particular seniors and sophomores in question, branding your boyfriend as distant and in a world of his own, not one to care about anyone other than his craft - a prodigy, but unreachable. of great intellect, but dull and is anything but fun. 

you’ve never been angrier ever since time immemorial. 

you don’t go out of your way to entertain idle chitchat as you decided to be the bigger person. plus, you hold time as your most valuable resource - to waste them on ingenuous first years will do you no good. 

it’s just that sometimes you wonder how can someone as almost fictitious and mythical as albedo be seen in such a one-dimensional lens. 

propped in your shared apartment, humid summer days seemed to melt into even more humid summer nights with air so thick it pressed upon one’s skin. there were shapes in monochrome, craving for the solace of daylight to illuminate the dusk of your confined spaces. either way, there was something in the darkness that was like a tinge of guarantee. a promise for the dawn to come. it felt like a sanctuary - or a wave of comfort. you’re pretty sure it’s probably because you had albedo’s company, but that’s a topic for another conversation. 

albedo wandered to the window to gaze at the stars, to peek into the universe, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. “[name],” he called out almost so lovingly, your name slipping out of his tongue like a mantra, a lexicon from the greeks. you hummed in response, exerting all your attention to him. “do you... mayhaps believe in an afterlife? or in a divine being?”

him asking questions just like this one did not startle you anymore. at first, it was very pressuring. but on every occasion, you’re always the type to immediately provide an answer. it’s one of the many things he likes about you. “I think...mankind’s persistent belief in an afterlife is their innate narcissism of not wanting to not exist. And they have this desperation to find an answer to mortality that they create the credence of an afterlife to ensure there is a place where the mysteries of life are solved.” A slight pause graced your lips, a chuckle eliciting in the process. “No, I don’t believe in an afterlife. Or in a god even.” 

his eyes had an adoring glimmer in them, standing behind the luminescence of the chilling evening, a minute smile follows. “huh. stephen hawking.” he saunters towards your form across the edge of the bed, thumb caressing your shoulders, a kiss decorating your forehead. 

you laughed in response, “yes, stephen hawking.” melting under the cold touch of his fingers, every brush like a graze to your nerves’ euphoria. 

everyone seems to type albedo as distant and like a plain white image on the canvas. as someone who can provide an entire antithesis to oppose those baseless conjectures, you can say that he is anything but that. 

albedo always had a sense of play and fun, in his own unique way. before your finals, he casually slips in notes doodled with pointers of what you should remember on your big day, followed with an ‘i love you’ at the end, accompanied with a small heart. his definition of fun is through refreshing trivias and sharing his findings from one of his recent studies and experiments. xingqiu, his friend from one of his orgs, sporadically reports to you that he’s teaching his colleagues on contemporary art, plus is quite vocal and happy in doing so. 

"Darling, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" 

You made a sound of what seems to be a sniff. “What if I screw up my backlogs and I mess up my prod for tomorrow and, and the org suddenly won’t be satisfied with my submissions and-"

 "They will, my love, don't worry. Go back to sleep." 

 "You think so?"

 "One hundred percent. Trust me."

 "Okay."

albedo is anything but boring or characterless, his taste in fiction can attest to that. he had a penchant for books written by frank herbert, also having a liking to dan simmons’ hyperion, but likewise favoring sylvia plath’s the bell jar and margaret atwood’s the handmaid’s tale. courtesy to your recommendation, of course. he sometimes immerses you in dialogue about his biting social commentary regarding the books, laid in front of the crackling heat of the fireplace, draped under a silk blanket as he holds you in his arms.  

“you’re in my head more often than I want.” he quietly utters, teal-tinted eyes getting lost in yours indulgently.

“isn’t that normal? for me to always be on your case?” you indulge.

albedo is anything but dull or aloof. you don’t miss the way a slight tear drops to the side of his cheek every time he rewatches the theory of everything, or when he discovers something from the garden statuaries originating from the less crowded spaces of the campus and he says “this reminded me of you.”, or when he envelops your knuckles with a quick kiss before moving it through the paintings and carvings of claude monet’s works, under glistening towers beside musk gardens. 

“i burn for you [name], in the rawest - strongest sense of word.” 

“and i, to you.” 

you both laughed at the display.

albedo is anything but ‘dead to the world’. or whatever that means in their own linear, superficial lexicon. he’s one to conform to the ‘actions speak louder than words’ truism, but if it means that he can perfectly relay the inner workings of his affection, he’d make an entire journal even. you both pull all-nighters, assisting one another with analytical papers and RRLs almost becoming an unspoken norm in your relationship, sometimes going to a point of reaching the crack of dawn, complemented by a pair of grandes. albedo lulls you to sleep amidst a lazy evening, fingertips playing max richter’s a catalogue of afternoons, tracing the piano keys effortlessly. 

“from time to time I ponder on the possibility if you’re doing this on purpose.”

you quirk up. “doing what on purpose?”

“asking help for your lit thesis to spend more time with me than actually doing the working part.”

“and what if I am doing it on purpose?”

yes, you sometimes wonder if albedo’s even real. the same albedo who whips you up a cup of coffee before you start your day. the same albedo who pinches your cheeks fondly as you nearly dozed off into dreamland whilst working on an article. the same albedo who paints an image of you in the hushed leeways of the abandoned music room, nothing but a look of adoration plastered across his serene features. 

“why do people love stargazing so much?” you query.

“it’s a nearly primal urge. we want to know what’s out past us.  the sun, moon and stars have been the source of our circadian rhythms and our oceanic tides. they are part of us and we are a part of them. just like you are a part of me, and i, a part of you.”

and he’s not unreachable, not when he has a penchant of keeping you at arm’s length, pulling you up to the same stature as he is. to where the stars belong and where universes fall. 

albedo’s very much real, as is the parts of him that only you get to see. 

masterlist

chi’s notes: i rewatched the theory of everything just recently so i figured, why not project my existential crisis from a film onto fanfiction lol. also i stand by my headcanon that albedo is a literature feminist and will defend women’s rights until the end of time. stream book of revelation by the drums!!

reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3