#All while I'm still struggling with burnout

[amethystina]

I loved how smitten Yo Han is in your newest fic. How soft he tries to be for Ga On, especially at the end with the hug. The love and understanding between the two is so incredibly presented. It's something we needed after everything these two have been through, in the show and in the slow burn of Who Holds the Devil.

I would have loved to see how Yo Han got his revenge and how it all played out because if there's one thing we know, it's that he will make sure he pays it back.

I will spread the gospel of Sappy Old Man Yo Han until the day I die. Especially in a fic like this, when I can write his most vicious and violent sides, and contrast them with his most tender and caring ones. Because he is so incredibly soft for Ga On, yes. And I love the fact that Yo Han has learned to embrace that, too — and is kind of proud of it, even? That's growth right there!

Aaaaand yeah. This is a nice change from the agony that is Who Holds the Devil — for me as well x'D

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Who Holds the Devil, but I'm not a big fan of angst. I prefer the kind of soft and domestic fluff I could write in It Is Mine to Avenge. We'll eventually get to that in Who Holds the Devil, too, it's just that it's going to take a while still...

You're not the first to say that you would like to see what happens next, but I'm afraid I have no plans to write that. I feel no urge to continue since I've already told the story I wanted to tell, and forcing it is usually a very bad idea. Not to mention that I'm terrified at the thought of having to come up with a suitably complex and bombastic plot for Yo Han to execute x'D He's a lot more imaginative than I am.

(Also, I already have so many other projects I want to work on >_> )

But what I can say is that I think he'll be targeting Nam Hyung Soo's reputation first — to ruin his image and credibility with the public — and then frame him for something that'll get him thrown into prison for the foreseeable future. It's just neater that way, since fewer people will protest or try to have him released again if everyone hates him.

So yes, Yo Han will definitely make sure to get his revenge.

Thank you so, so much for your kind words! Take care 💜

[crowborn666-writes]

malleus/leona/azul with a fem student who has adhd and autism. yet crowley does nothing about it despite being explained over again saying 'you're just not trying hard enough, etc"

(Oh hey, it’s my two biggest brain problems lmao. As hot as I find Crowley (yes he’s a hear me out), just once, I would love to hit him over the head with every broken object in Ramshackle. Just whack him WWE style. I’d probably convince Grim, Ace and Deuce to join in. ANYWAYS—)

(this was actually a bit hard for my AuADHD, explaining ADHD and Autism itself is quite difficult for me without references lol that and I'm horrible with finding the right words)

That’s Not How That Works

Characters: Malleus, Leona, and Azul

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Platonic/Romantic

Summary: No, Crowley, you cannot “just get over it”. Yes, you are trying your hardest. Oh, and your friend wants to “have a word” with you in your office.

(Malleus covers both p equally, while Leona leans more to ADHD, and Azul more to Autism!)

~~~~~~

Malleus

He didn’t get it at first. I doubt ANY of the cast would know what the proper terms for your mental conditions meant. But once you sit down with him, trying to find the right words to explain in a way he would understand, he catches on quickly.

For the ADHD side, once you explain what dopamine is, and how your brain doesn't register or create enough of it, he understands why you find difficulty in completing long term tasks, and why you wait until the last minute.

He catches on quite quicker when you explain Autism. While obviously its more than just a hyperfixation, but all you really have to start with is "kinda like how you obsess over gargoyles" for his eyes to widen in mutual understanding.

You hear a storm rolling in the distance when you go on to explain how Crowley wouldn't listen, and kept pushing you to do things that would surely lead to a massive burnout.

"I'll take care of it." He speaks those words so calmly, you almost fear for Crowley's life. But when Malleus speaks again, his tone now matches the bright smile on his face. "You said autistic people bond through... what was that term again? Infodumping??? Right, why don't you share your most recent interests with me, I can carve a new gargoyle in the while I listen."

Leona

Was already pissed off with Crowley's general treatment towards you. Suddenly has the urge to de-feather a bird when you get into the topic.

It comes up when he stops by to visit, watching you try to clean up around your dusty dorm. You had suddenly stopped in the middle of what you were doing, looking between the cups on the table, to the dishes in the sink, and then the mess on the counters and-

He asks you what was up, and without thinking you explain.

"Well, I want to clean the cups off the table, but the sink is full. I can't clean the sink out because the counter's messy and the dishwasher doesn't work, but I can't clean the counter cause the trash needs taken out and we're low on trash bags and-"

He stops you before your tongue flies out of you mouth, gently soothing you before you could work yourself frantic.

So, while he's helping find a solution to the seemingly endless cycle of tasks, you explain the difficulties you have with your ADHD and Autism in this world. You explain all the little tricks you had set up at home, how each one helped a task become more manageable, and how hard it was to get them set up and built into your routine.

While he doesn't personally experience your struggle, he can only imagine how hard you're having it. He looks out for your signs of stress now, stepping in to help fix or assist with things, maybe even wordlessly pass you a bracelet of his to fidget with.

Azul

Honestly, I would NOT be surprised if he has had his fair share of experience with ADHD and Autism. Not personally, but through the twins.

Floyd is, well, a walking bomb ready to explode. That eel can almost never sit still, seemingly unaware of personal boundaries and able to switch moods at the drop of a hat.

Jade is more subtle, oftentimes so quiet most don't realize he's there until he speaks. But if he's in a mood or someone asks about mushrooms, it's nearly impossible getting him to shut up.

So, it's safe to say Azul recognized those things when getting to know you. What he wasn't expecting, was the way you seemingly recoil in pain when you encounter an odd texture.

That wasn't the only thing either. You struggled with discerning lefts from rights, which made for some funny interactions between the twins. You struggled with remember to care for yourself when you fell too deep into a hobby or task, seemingly not feeling the signals for, say hunger, until someone else brings it up.

Finally, he had to ask you about it.

You do your best to explain it to him, but once you do, he lets out a soft, understanding "Ohhh..."

You run off on a tangent then, frowning as you start to talk about Crowley and the fact he refused to even try to understand. It was nice having a routine to follow, sure, but not when there's so much being thrown at you on top of the lack of support.

Azul's blood boils, and he almost whips out his phone to contact the twins for... information.

He offers to write up a contract for you then and there, detailing you receive better treatment from Crowley, giving you some ease of mind and body against all the overwhelming sensations you deal with on the daily.

He'll even let you admire his coin collection while he writes it.

[bumblequinn]

hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

[rederiswrites]

I wrote this out for FB and then thought I might as well share it here as well. So if you have ADHD, are a late-diagnosed adult with ADHD, and most particular if you are a person with a uterus and/or have children, this one might be for you.

...

Last couple of days have been a little...weird. Let's start at the beginning. Buckle up and learn something.

As many of you already know, I have ADHD. It's a condition with a PR problem--a lot of people, often even medical professionals, have a very distorted idea of what it does, and a very limited one. For starters, it's not about parenting, or lead paint, or lack of discipline. It's genetic, *highly* heritable, starts in childhood and persists throughout life, and is a sufficiently severe disability that it comes with a decrease in life expectancy of up to 13 years. It is a visible difference that can be perceived in brain scans. These are all, at this point, well established and thoroughly attested in the scientific literature. ADHD affects up to 5% of the population and appears across cultures. It is very common.

It's not just about lack of attention--in fact, plenty of medical professionals think the name should be changed, as in fact the problem isn't the volume of attention but the way we struggle to direct it. We are motivated by interest, and struggle to properly weight future goals and consequences, specifically because they are in the future. If the robin outside the window is more immediately rewarding to our brain, we will watch that, and not the teacher. Our ability to properly weigh the consequences of that choice is negatively impacted by our own biochemistry.

We struggle with many of what are termed the "executive functions", the self management systems of the brain. Degree and presentation varies from person to person, but initiating tasks, completing tasks, staying ON task, restraining impulses, emotional regulation, and working memory are among the things impacted. My working memory is notoriously horrible. When they send you those activation codes on your phone? I often have to go back and read them out several times to enter a six digit number. I have to stop and remind myself what I'm doing between every step of my morning bathroom routine, or making tacos. Sometimes I take off my glasses to put on my contacts, reset, and reach for my pill bottles while I still can't see. My long-term memory is also affected, with my husband de facto serving as the memory-holder of the family.

Another common symptom I personally experience is "time blindness", which can mean both that you have no "internal clock" that has a clear idea of the passage of time, and that our ability to properly weight the importance of things in the future is impacted. So, for example, I can know intellectually what's coming, but it takes some really complex and exhausting antics to actually focus and work on those things if they're more than a week or sometimes even a couple days away.

Without externally imposed controls, many ADHD people flounder and fail to meet social markers of success. Estimates of how many ADHD people manage to complete college range from 5% to 15%. Again: 5% to 15%! I have failed twice myself. WITH externally imposed controls, ADHD people often have to work far harder to make their brains do what is required, and either fail and develop an image of themselves as failures (usually with plenty of external help), or keep fighting and suffer crippling burnout.

To that point, ADHD is HIGHLY comorbid with a whole range of knock-on conditions, some of which stem from the same brain patterns that give rise to the ADHD itself, and others from the trauma of living with a disability, but they include very high rates of depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia, social isolation, and addiction. I have dealt with depression, anxiety, and fibromyalgia my entire adult life. I have never ended up in the trap of self-medication but let's be real, that's partly about having supports and a healthy social environment. It's not some accomplishment I praise myself for, nor is addiction a sin I shame anyone for.

And anxiety has a very different texture to it when what you're really anxious about is the next time you fail in some catastrophic way. Lock your keys in the car. Completely space on a doctor's appointment. Go to pay for groceries and find that your wallet is next to your computer at home. Because the anxiety is not irrational fear of some generalized bad thing. These things do and will happen, regularly. Sometimes it feels like the only fix is getting good at recovering. Because no matter how many times you manage not to blow it, there's always another chance.

So, the struggle to be a reliable person, to be a consistent parent, to be a dependable life partner, is continuous. And it is so so so hard and it sometimes feels like you're not actually making any progress at all. I have tried therapy. I have tried three (or four??) different non-stimulant medications that sometimes help people. One of them DID help. ALL of them had catastrophic side effects. There were times as I was trialing these medications when I needed to be minded because I wasn't capable of taking care of anything, not even myself. Without Jacob, I don't know where I'd be. Not here. Probably in poverty, which is where he found me.

I have tried probably most organizational tools you know of. I have tried imposing schedules, all of which turned to dust and ash when the next fibromyalgia flareup or the next major life disruption happened. I don't think a new schedule has ever lasted a month before.

I HAVE felt like I'm made progress lately. I learned things that really helped my fibromyalgia, which gave me the space to work on other things--just like getting the borders of a puzzle finished. Enough things were spiraling upwards, and I think I might be cementing some gains. I have felt optimistic.

But in the meantime, I asked my doctor if, now that no less than three cardiologists have insisted my heart is Perfectly Healthy, I could finally try stimulant medications. After decades of use, Adderall, Ritalin, and a couple related stimulant drugs are still the gold standard for ADHD treatment and improve outcomes substantially for many people. And stimulants are in serious international shortage. Have been for many months. The only one she thought she could get me was Adderall. And she didn't dare try anything but the standard 30mg because nonstandard dosages would be even less attainable.

So now I'm taking Adderall. One week on 30mg, which I stopped when it was clear my function was being seriously impaired rather than improved. Reassessed with the doctor, now trying 60mg, because that's two of the pills I've already managed to obtain. It is....too much. And in some ways it fixes problems I wasn't working on, while so far making my executive function, my initiation or even *contemplation* of tasks, virtually nonexistant. Which was, of course, the thing I was trying to fix.

So yeah. When you have the context, I figure you can understand the substance of my frustration yourself. If you have children, I don't think you need my help to imagine what it would be like to know that you are unpredictable, or to see that your children are used to to you undergoing events that make you act strangely and erratically. I think just knowing that often, new medications introduce themselves by giving me a migraine, and I know this is possible when I take that first pill, is fairly self-explanatory. And so I expect you can imagine what it would be like, with all of this as a backdrop, to experience worsening of your symptoms, probably because of age-related hormonal changes. To in desperation try something you'd previously been denied. And to learn that it probably won't help.

In a week, I will either give up on Adderall for now or find a way to make it work. I'll put together the pieces yet again--at this point, possibly my strongest personal skill--and continue that upward climb as far as I can get. I'm incredibly fortunate in that regardless, I will be fed and dry and warm and loved. But right now, I feel justified in some serious dismay.

[peachhcs]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ʷˢ²

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

things become too much for the youngest hughes causing everyone around her to worry for her well-being

wc: 4.1k

some warnings incase: some mental health struggle, burnout, struggling to reach out for help

i've had this one in the drafts for awhile and i finally finished it. wanted to write some more angst of the harder side of samy's collegiate life, but luckily she's got a real good support system by her side! (also trying some new things with my titles) (p.s. heading home again for winter break in 2 days so i’ll get to everyone’s requests then!!)

au masterlist

there was a lot riding on this season now that samy was officially named 1st alternate captain. after lots of success and making it to the ncaa finals last year, the umich coaches decided to name the star freshman their alternate captain going into her sophomore year. she had proved herself with all the goals and strategies from last season and the girls on the team agreed no one else deserved the position more. samy couldn't be more grateful for the honor knowing how much her team was going to look up to her in the coming season to pull off the same thing and hopefully win the championships this year. 

being alternate captain meant that the youngest hughes was pulled up incase any of the captains now couldn't fulfill their role, so she had to be in attendance to every captain meeting with the coaches and the other girls relied heavily on her since she had the strategy. it was rewarding, but also really draining sometimes. 

on top of this, samy had a full course load to manage while also still finding time to hang out with her friends and keep in touch with everyone else. her busy schedule kept her out of the apartment most days and nights, not coming back in until hannah was fast asleep and sometimes samy hardly slept herself. her rushing around allowed little time for her to slow down and be in the present with what was happening. 

she got up early for practice, saying a half-hearted goodbye to her roommate, and then was out the door with the chance of not returning until later that night. whenever there was downtime, samy's attention was stolen away by a girl on the team needing something or calling her parents and boyfriend, so in reality, she had very little time to herself. 

it was starting to take a toll on the brunette. the sleepless nights left dark, heavy bags under her eyes and the caffeine consumption was at an all time high that just left her jittery and shaky the rest of the day. even trying to do homework and study made samy restless because she just couldn't sit still knowing everything else she needed to do. 

however, if there was one thing about the hughes siblings, it was that they never asked for help. growing up in a constantly competitive environment led the four to become extremely independent and asking for help with even the smallest things was out of the question, especially samy who worked her whole life to prove that she could be just like her older brothers. 

so even if she was struggling with balancing everything and taking care of herself, samy would not ask for help. 

will learned this one the hard way growing up with the youngest hughes and now that he was all the way in california, he had no way of knowing if she was taking care of herself. he knew she was named 1st alternate captain and the work that came with it, but the text messages weren't enough to suffice if samy was still making time for herself. will started worrying when the messages from her started becoming vague and a lot less, more so when she kept putting off their nightly facetime calls claiming she was caught up with other stuff. 

he knew she had a game in boston in two days, so will decided to reach out to the boys to make sure they seriously checked in with samy to make sure she was doing okay. 

"i'm just a bit worried about her," will explained to gabe over the phone the night before the game. 

"you know she's really good at hiding that kind of stuff. she's never asked for help when she's struggling," the darker-haired boy said which made the blonde sigh. 

"yeah, i know which is why i want you and the guys to just check-in with her and see if she's okay. i'm worried she isn't properly taking care of herself," will said and gabe nodded even though his friend couldn't see him. 

"yeah, we will, don't worry. leno and i have plans to get lunch with her before the game so we'll see how she is," the boy's words sent some relief to will's chest. 

"okay, thanks. i appreciate it. we'll talk later," the two exchanged goodbyes and will tried not to think too much about it for the rest of the night or else he'd stress himself out. 

he knew samy could take care of herself, but he just worried that with everything she had going on this semester it was becoming too much and she wasn't reaching out for help. 

with the night game, samy had time to catch lunch with ryan and gabe downtown that afternoon. she entered the restaurant they discussed meeting at with a bright smile on her face. it'd been since late july that the three saw one another, so she was excited to have the chance to catch up with them. the boys spotted her at their table near the back, excitedly standing up to greet her in hugs. the girl jumped over to them with her arms already open. 

"hey! it's so good to see you guys again," she cheered, embracing gabe first. the darker-haired boy grinned, wrapping his arms tight around her torso. 

he noticed the change first. 

as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt..different. or at least gabe thought so. he couldn't quite place what was different, but..she felt..smaller? lighter? he didn't know how to explain the change, but he definitely noticed it, especially when the girl pulled back and he saw the very obvious bags under her eyes. 

he didn't say anything though, letting her go so ryan could hug her. when the two pulled away gabe glanced at ryan, speaking with his eyes by asking if ryan noticed anything too. the brunette was too caught up in the menu though that he didn't catch his friend's glance. 

"i already know what i want," ryan hummed. 

"of course you do. i haven't been here in so long," samy giggled, perusing the menu herself while gabe did the same. 

"how've you been though? you're a big soccer captain now," the brunette hockey player roughed up the girl's arm making her flush. 

"not quite captain, but i'm getting there. i've been..good. busy, but good," samy's hesitation made gabe look up at her briefly. he tried reading her expression, but she just looked back down at the menu. 

"that's so awesome you got 1st alternate captain. what a status. you think you'll be real captain next season?" ryan kept talking. 

"i mean i hope so. our head coach really likes me and so do the girls, so it's a possibility." 

"we're excited for the game later. i think almost all the hockey boys are coming to watch you play," gabe finally chipped into the conversation. 

"aww, that's so cute. i'm excited too. it should be a good game," her bright smile made the boys smile and maybe she really was doing okay, she was just super busy. every college student hit a really busy point in the semester that caused bags under their eyes and slight weight loss. 

gabe decided not to pry now because he knew samy just wanted to enjoy lunch, so he eased himself into the conversation and listened to all the things him and ryan have missed since they last saw her. 

if the three could keep talking, they totally would, but after two hours, they had to cut it short because samy needed to be back for enough time to get ready and get to the field for warmups. ryan and gabe graciously paid (even after samy told them they didn't have to pay for her) and walked back out onto the busy boston sidewalk. they exchanged a few last hugs for now. 

"see you at the game! look for us, we'll have big signs," ryan chuckled as he embraced the brunette again. she smiled. 

"i can't wait to see them." 

gabe hugged her last, still not shaking how there was something different about the youngest hughes, he just couldn't put his finger on it. "good to see you, hughesy. we'll see you soon." 

"see you super soon. thanks again for lunch," she patted gabe's cheek making him flush. 

"of course. you're doing okay, right?" he stopped beating around the bush and lowered his voice a little. 

samy gave him a quizzical look, a flush coating her own cheeks at his somewhat personal question like he just saw right through her or something, but she quickly played it off. 

"yeah, i'm good. why?" 

"no reason, just wondering. being nosy. being protective," gabe shook his head. 

"i'm good, i promise. i'll see you guys later," samy finally said her last goodbye and they walked in separate directions. 

gabe chose to believe her because if samy said she was fine, she was fine. she did know herself better than anyone else and who was gabe to say that she didn't look good? so he let it go and would tell will samy seemed fine, just tired. 

later, at the game, gabe realized he should've poked more about his friend's well-being. 

the lady wolverines had a big lead on the eagles. they were up a whopping 5-2 in the second half with no chance the lady eagles could catch up to them. at this point, the michigan girls were just playing to see how many goals they could rack up in one night. 

the hockey boys definitely got a lot of strange looks when they took turns holding up various signs they made for samy and screamed her name as she ran up the field with the ball in boston's student section. 

"hughesy, hughesy, hughesy," ryan got a chant going to which the boys and the small michigan student section joined in on. 

"stop fucking cheering for the other team!" someone yelled in the middle of the chant, obviously annoyed that people from boston were cheering for michigan. 

"shut up! she's our friend!" aram yelled back at the stranger who just rolled his eyes. 

"they're gonna kill our girls," drew chuckled when samy's team scored yet another goal bringing it up to 6-2. 

"honestly, i saw it coming. our soccer team is kind of shit compared to michigan, no offense," fowler shrugged a bit and the other guys snickered because they knew he was right. boston's soccer program wasn't the best even though they had gotten a bit better since last year. they just needed a star player to come in and change it around like samy had done for michigan. 

the wolverines earned themselves a corner kick when the eagles rolled the ball out of line. samy hurried over to take the kick, but as she began slowing down to get into position, she felt a bit light-headed. her team worked to get into position for her kick, but the more the youngest hughes finally slowed herself down, the worse she felt. she stood in front of the ball trying to ground herself and get her bearings back, but instead, the whole field spun in her vision. 

"is she okay?" teddy wondered from behind the sophomores as they waited for samy to make the kick. 

gabe watched her from the stands and the way she swayed on her heels like she may pass out. his heart dropped and he cursed to himself. he knew there was something wrong. 

despite samy's vision spinning, she attempted to make the kick knowing the team and refs were waiting. however, as soon as she moved she went down, landing face first in the turf. 

the ref blew his whistle. people in the stands gasped and gabe was on his feet not even thinking twice as he ran down the bleachers and ignored the calls of the others. "shit," ryan muttered and ran after him. 

the two boys were down on the field a second later, not caring that they weren't supposed to be down there. the refs who didn't quite know what to do let the boys in as they kneeled down to samy's side. 

"samy? hey, samy?" gabe tried shaking the girl awake. her coach was across the field a second later while the others tried keeping everyone else away. 

"what happened? is she hurt?" coach klein asked in concern. 

"i think she passed out," gabe informed, gently tapping samy's cheeks to wake her back up. 

a full minute passed before the girl's eyes fluttered back open and a wave of relief washed over everyone hovering over her. she saw gabe first and the concern written all over his features and she knew something bad happened. 

"thank god. are you okay?" the darker-haired boy wondered. 

"w-what happened?" the brunette rasped out. 

"you passed out, hughes," coach klein informed before the boys could. 

samy's face paled even further because she knew the exact reason why and that she definitely lied to gabe earlier when he asked if she was doing okay. 

"oh," was all the girl managed. 

"let's get you up. you probably need water and some food," gabe said gently as him and ryan helped her to her feet. 

"you guys got her then?" coach asked and the boys nodded. 

they supported samy's weight as the crowd in the stands clapped that she was up and the refs restarted the game with someone else taking the corner kick. ryan and gabe led the girl into the sports facility, finding the nearest bench to sit her down on for the moment. 

"go find her some water and get her food from one of the vending machines," gabe instructed and ryan did as told. 

samy's head hung low as she avoided gabe's lingering gaze knowing what he was about to say to her. she felt him sit down beside her, "i thought you promised me you were fine?" 

his tone wasn't angry or anything, but she could hear the disappointment in it and that seemed to hurt worse. 

"i don't really know what happened," samy frowned still not meeting the hockey player's eyes. 

"samantha, come on. tell me what's going on," gabe using her full name meant he was being really serious and she grimaced at the use of it. 

"i guess..i just haven't had a lot of time to slow down and it's finally catching up with me," she finaly admitted to which the boy sighed. 

"have you been taking care of yourself?" he wondered. 

"i..i guess not really. i haven't really been eating or sleeping properly. i've been caught up in a lot." 

"you know that's not an excuse to not be nourishing yourself and sleeping right," the boy pointed out softly, not wanting to anger her. 

"i know," samy kept admitting her defeat. 

ryan came back down the hallway with a large gatorade and about five different snacks in his arms. he set it all down on the bench beside the girl and then exchanged a glance with gabe. 

"will just called me asking about what happened. i told him you passed out. he wants you to call him," the taller brunette explained. 

"i'm sure i have to call a lot of people. my parents are probably blowing up my phone right now," samy sighed, her head falling into her hands. 

the two boys exchanged another glance where they spoke with just looks, "you know we're always here for you if you need to talk or need anything, right? just because we're in different states doesn't mean we don't wanna be there for you and help carry some of the weight on your shoulders. the same goes for will," gabe said gently as he rubbed his hand across her back in soothing circles. 

"i know, i know. i just thought i'd be able to handle it and it'd become easier, but i guess it just kept piling up," the girl frowned again. 

"is it something about the alternate captain position? has that been too much?" ryan wondered. 

"it's definitely a lot and maybe i just didn't expect for it to be as much as it is. i've been kind of falling behind in work too," her words made the boys frown. 

"do you think there's someone you can talk to about this to help you manage a little better? like your coach? or one of the other captains on the team to see how they manage it all? it might be helpful especially since you might be an actual captain next year," gabe offered because him and ryan knew eamon powell had a lot to balance being captain as well, but he also wasn't afraid to ask for help when he needed it. he actually relied a lot on the team when he was looking for new suggestions. 

"yeah, yeah. i can talk to them," samy nodded. 

"we're just worried about you, hughesy. we know you don't really like asking for help, but it's not a bad thing. it doesn't mean your weak or anything or any less. a lot of people ask for help. i'm sure your brothers do too," ryan tried his best to comfort the girl as he also joined in with rubbing her back. 

"it's just so hard when i grew up thinking asking for help is a sign of weakness and i wasn't capable. like i know i can ask, but something in my brain is stopping me and i just can't do it," she leaned back against the wall, defeat clear in her system. 

"well, maybe that's what you can talk about with your coach and she can refer you to a sports psychologist or someone who can help you work through these things. i'm sure your team and coach wants you to be at your best, but they can't help if you don't reach out," gabe hummed. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys the truth at lunch today. i should've. i don't know why i didn't," samy shook her head and finally took a few sips of the gatorade. 

"don't apologize, it's okay. we just hope you'll reach out to any of us when you do need help again. we were just freaked out when you passed out like that," the darker-haired hockey player said. 

"a mix of not enough sleep or enough food knocked me off my game i guess."

"well, we're glad you're okay. try eating some more and then we'll walk back out to the field with you," ryan smiled softly which samy appreciated their soft tones. she probably could not handle them being angry with her and lecturing. 

coach kept samy out of the rest of the game just so she wouldn't overwork herself again. once the game finished, the youngest hughes called her parents to update them and tell them she was okay and then her brothers who also blew up her phone because they were watching the stream and saw her pass out. 

"yeah, i passed out, but i'm fine," she told them. 

"shit, samy. you freaked us out when you just fell like that," jack huffed. 

"i'm sorry. i guess it's just been a long few weeks and i haven't really been taking care of myself," samy explained with a frown. 

"oh shit, sorry. are you okay?" luke asked. 

"i will be. i just gotta figure out how to balance it all. probably talk to my coach and reach out to one of the sports psychologists," the girl informed the three older boys. 

quinn, who hadn't said much since calling, was the most observant sibling out of the four and he also started realizing how neither of them reached out for help when they needed it most. "hey squirt, i know we raised you thinking getting help showed you were weak, but you know that's not true right? that was never our intention. getting help when things are hard is really beneficial," the oldest hughes commented. 

"yeah, i know," samy said. 

"yeah, i mean it's been a learning curve for all of us, but we always reach out when things get to be too much. we're always here to help too. plus, mom and dad are always good shoulders to lean on if you need to rant," luke chirped up and samy smiled at their words. 

"yeah, thanks guys. i promise i'm gonna reach out to balance it all better," she nodded even though they couldn't see her. 

"good. we want you taking care of yourself, seriously," quinn said. 

"i will, i promise this time. i'll talk to you guys later, yeah?" the four exchanged heartfelt goodbyes and samy had one more call to make which was the one she was the most scared to make. 

will knew her all too well and he already knew how hard it was for samy to reach out for help until it got way too overwhelming, so she worried he would be mad at her for not reaching out sooner. 

"hi baby," will answered immediately. 

"hi will," samy leaned against the hallway. 

"are you okay? ryan said you passed out," the blonde wondered and the girl grimaced. 

"yeah, i'm okay now."

"what's been going on? has everything been okay?" his soft tone took samy by surprise and for some reason, it just made her break down. 

she sunk herself to the ground and basically started sobbing through the phone. will's heart broke hearing her cry and he couldn't do anything about it besides stay on the phone with her. he hated being so far away in moments like these that he couldn't physically be there for her. 

"baby, talk to me. you're okay. i'm right here," he tried. 

"i'm sorry will. i'm sorry. i'm just so tired and exhausted. i haven't had like any time to myself at all and i haven't been doing any studying and i already feel so burnt out from everything," it all poured out from the girl as she told her boyfriend everything that was going on. the blonde's heart tightened and twisted into a knot hearing his girlfriend sound so defeated and he was on the opposite end of the country. 

"samy, don't apologize. there's noting to apologize for. i'm so sorry you've been feeling this way. i wish there was something i could do," will sympathized with her. 

"i'm sorry i haven't been calling you either. i was scared to admit to you that i haven't been doing well and i didn't wanna burden you—"

"samy, nothing you do or say could ever burden me. you know that. i wanna talk to you. i wanna hear your problems. i wanna try and help you, i promise, but i can't do that if you don't talk to me," will cut her off. 

"i know, i know. i guess i've just never felt this overwhelmed before, but i'm gonna reach out more, i promise. i'm gonna talk to my coaches and explain how i've been feeling," the brunette wiped her eyes from her tears. 

"it's okay to feel overwhelmed, baby. no one is gonna be mad at you for setting boundaries and taking time for yourself, okay? we're all here for you," the blonde made sure he was firm so she knew. 

"yeah, thank you. gabe and ryan took care of me and made sure i ate and drank some stuff," that made the hockey player smile a bit knowing his friends were always looking out for her even when he wasn't there. 

"i'm glad they did. i wish i was there to take away your hurt and pain," the boy frowned. 

"i wish you were here too. i miss you like crazy." 

"i miss you a lot too, but i'll see you real soon, okay? hang in there for me, yeah?" 

"yeah, i will. i promise," samy managed a smile. 

"good. i'm always here for you. i love you," she heard will kiss the phone bringing a laugh from her lips. 

"i love you too. i'll call you later," samy knew she needed to get herself together to get back on the bus in a few hours. the couple hung up and the girl stood up to wipe the rest of her tears and compose herself. 

once her backpack of things was back together, she went to go find the boys who promised they'd wait up for her to continue catching up before she left. for once since the semester started, samy was gonna be in the present with them and choose not to think about anything else. 

gabe saw her first, opening his arm up to bring her into the circle. the others excitedly said hi to her and then her and gabe exchanged a knowing glance. she nodded to say she was doing a lot better now and she felt him squeeze her arm as they continued talking with everyone else. 

[chdarling]

As we’re getting closer to a truly awful day for America, I just wanted to check in on you. Things are bleak and about to get so so much worse, I want you to know I’m here and many others are here too when you’re ready

This is very kind of you, thank you. Honestly, I have not been doing great. Watching my neighbors elect a racist, fascist, Nazi-loving rapist triggered a pretty bad depressive episode on top of what was already the worst period of professional and creative burnout of my life, so….I’m struggling. Still trying to claw my way out of the dark. I’m deeply appreciative of the kindness of this community and am sorry that I haven’t (and probably won’t for a little longer) been able to engage the way I once did. I will again one day, and I am so thankful to know all you wonderful people online. <3

On a note that is completely unrelated to this gentle ask, I’ve been getting a ton of messages lately asking for a date when TLE3 is coming out and I don’t feel up to answering them (sorry) so I’m just going to tack this on here since I buried my last post on the subject under a mountain of despair reblogs: TLE3 is going to take a while.

I’m still planning to continue with my writing projects (be they TLE or other things), but right now I’m focusing on securing my own oxygen mask, etc. When I finished posting TLE2, I said that I would be taking a break and also that I would not be posting TLE3 until I had written all of it (like I had for TLE1). Even if I had been writing diligently every single day since I posted the last chapter, I still wouldn’t be done, so please understand that it’s going to take a while. It certainly will not be coming in the next 6 months, very possibly not in 2025. I know some people won’t be happy to hear that, but just a fun statistic: OOTP has 257,045 words and took three years to write/publish after GOF. TLE2 has (and this makes me cringe a little) 407,079 words and took roughly 3 years to write as an unpaid side hobby on top of full time work, education, etc. I don’t say this to toot my own horn (frankly, it just makes me desperately want to retroactively edit the crap out of TLE2 lol), but rather to reiterate that writing a book-length work takes a lot of time, energy, and love. I don’t want it to take 3 years (and I don’t think it will, TLE3 will be a more reasonable length), but it’s certainly not going to be finished in a few months. That would be insanity and I am not that talented lmao.

I do know that the requests for updates come from a place of love and enthusiasm and excitement and I really, truly appreciate that. I also appreciate all of the kind words of the asks I haven’t been answering. Please know that I’ve read them, I love you, and I will be back eventually. I just have to focus on my health right now, and unfortunately these days being online is pretty bad for that, so I'm going to try to be logged off for a while.

And finally, on another completely unrelated but perhaps mildly tangential note: if anyone has any books recommendations or resources on processing climate grief, I, uh, could use them. 🫠

[dinogoofymutated]

I absolutely adore how you write Kurt,

Could you write something for Kurt being concerned for an overworked reader?

And or a reader that struggles with sleep?

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN! Reader The amount of comfort that this man gives me UGH! He's just so caring and sweet, but I worry about him :( He's been the therapist friend in basically every episode in 97' and he deserves some comfort too so I added basically the reverse version of these headcannons at the end as well! Sorry I didn't end up writing anything for sleep, I've written a fic with some sleep struggle themes here but I might end up writing some seperate headcannons for that later! TWs: Themes of burnout/exhaustion. Mentions of the Genosha attack and Remy's death/funeral, religious themes. As always, reader written while picturing Fem! But no pronouns mentioned. I'm doing my best with adding German dialect while Kurt speaks but I'm not super knowledgeable, so let me know if there's something I need to change!

Kurt makes it his absolute mission to make sure you're always taken care of. Food, emotional support, laundry, dishes, Hell, he'd give you the sun and stars if you needed them. He just cares about you so much, and he never wants you to feel like you're alone in this world.

This being said, when he feels that you're overworking yourself, he's not afraid to let you know.

When he first starts to notice it, He'll check in on you more often. He'll pull you into a hug and give you kisses and he'll only leave when you reassure him that you're perfectly fine.

If you're still overworking yourself after this, he will outright tell you that he loves you, but you need a break. You can't go on like this and he's concerned about you. He doesn't purposely give you the sad puppy eyes, but seriously, how could you think about saying no to that face?

He really likes to brush his hands through your hair when he's trying to help you relax. He'll move your head into his lap on the couch and hum you softly to sleep. He might take you to bed, but he won't wake you up unless he absolutely has to. He won't go as far as to turn off your alarms, but he just wants you to rest.

However, if you know you're overworking yourself but still refuse to let yourself stop, or take a break, he's going to be a little more "aggressive".

    Your computer screen is giving you a migraine, you feel like you want to tear your brain out of your head, and plainly? You just can’t sit still. You had been in this spot for about six hours straight. The last time you actually got up was to eat dinner, and even then you had only relaxed for what, thirty minutes? You can’t really remember.

    You sigh deeply, leaning back in your chair as you massage your temples. Working for the budding country of Genosha was certainly not for the weak. You needed to have this paperwork finished and faxed before the end of the week so that talks of Genosha entering the U.N. could continue. It was such a hefty amount, but it was necessary. Everyone else had done their part, and all you had to do was make corrections, edit, and make sure everything was in top shape. You’d been working on it for about three days straight, and with the finish line in sight, you didn’t want to stop now. 

    Oh, but your head hurts so bad, and you feel like you're starving. You look from your computer to your copy machine and the huge stack of mostly finished paperwork on your desk. You just want it to be over with, you decide it’s best if you just push through.

    “You haven’t moved from that spot since lunch,” You hear Kurt state. He comes around the side of your chair to brush some stray locks away from your forehead, and you do your best to give him a smile, although it’s obvious the expression is pained.

    “I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice comes out a little gravelly from being silent most of the day. Kurt’s hands begin to gather your hair and caress the back of your neck lovingly. His hands feel good, grounding. You close your eyes to appreciate the feeling and miss the sight of Kurt’s frown.

    “Let’s get you to bed, Liebchen. I can tell your head hurts.” Kurt’s tone is gentle, although displeased, and it makes you feel guilty when you shake your head and pull away, leaning forward as you restack the paperwork on your desk.

    “I can’t. I’m almost done with this whole U.N. thing and the sooner it’s over, the better.” You mumble stubbornly. Kurt shakes his head at you, pulling your rolling chair away from the desk before you can get your hands on something else. You don’t even have the energy to express your shock as Kurt takes the papers out of your hands, using the table to straighten them before placing them in their proper place. He tuts at you as he does so, and continues to save your files and power down the computer despite your protests.

    “My apologies, love, but I won’t let you rot in this room for another moment. I understand how important this work is to you. Giving Genosia a voice that the world can hear is a very noble cause, and yet it is still a cause that can wait till tomorrow, Ja?” You open your mouth to attempt to protest again, but your head hurts so bad, and you are so tired. Kurt takes your hands to help you out of your chair, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls you into a gentle hug.

    “Okay. But-” You don’t finish your sentence before Kurt is tucking your face into his shoulder, sparing you the view as he Bamfs you away. When he lets you go, you’re standing in your bedroom. You’re thankful that he spared you the sights, knowing that it would have just made your head worse- but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t been remotely done in the office.

    “-I still need to lock up, Kurt.” You start to say, but he’s gone in a puff of smoke before you can even finish the sentence. When he makes it back a few minutes later, Kurt sends you a cheeky smile, lifting his tail to show you the keys he must’ve snagged from your pocket earlier. 

    “Did you-”

    “Lock the file cabinet? Yes. And I turned off your lamp, and closed the curtains before I locked the door.” Kurt kisses your temple as he sits you down on the bed, beginning to take your shoes off. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you taken care of.” You feel like your heart might explode with the overwhelming fondness you’re feeling right now. When he’s done with your shoes, he carefully helps you undress and change into pajamas, something he knows you struggled with when you were as exhausted as you are now. He makes sure to tuck you into bed before he himself goes to change. It doesn’t matter how much pain you felt at this point, when he crawled into bed you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up close to him, pressing tired kisses to whatever part of him you could reach. Kurt simply chuckles, pulling you into an embrace as he whispers sweet encouragements for you to sleep.

    “Kurt?”

    “Yes, Meine Liebe?”

    “ ‘Think you could Marry me?”

Now just because Kurt will do everything in his power to keep you from reaching the point of burnout, doesn't mean that he himself will stop from reaching that point.

Kurt is a genuinely good person, right to the core. He likes helping people, he likes to care for others, but he doesn't always ask for help when he needs it. It's not that he doesn't have emotional intelligence for his own feelings, he just tends to soothe himself by assisting others. Even then, to an extent, that's not healthy coping. There is only so much someone can carry alone.

After the attack on Genosha, there was a lot of work that had to be done- and Kurt, being a familiar and dependable face in the many religious communities, was needed constantly in a tumultuous time when many turned to religion.

It's been a struggle for the two of you, much of your time together being cut short in one way or another, and the longer you spent away, the more worried you became.

It all came to a head after Remy's funeral.

    Remy’s funeral was… Rough. To say the least. No one was coping very well, especially not Jubilee. You had walked out to the cars with the group after the last of the dirt had been laid, making sure to give her a tight hug. The X-men were the only real family she had ever had, and now she had lost a brother. You had let her sob for a moment, listening to her cries and the sounds of doors, opening and closing. 

    When everyone had loaded up and was ready to head out, you noticed that Kurt wasn’t there. You told everyone that you would catch up. You had a feeling you knew where he would be.

    You find Kurt in an empty church. He’d shed his outermost robes at some point, and was sitting silently on a pew. His eyes are closed and his hands folded, praying. You don’t disturb him as you sit down, simply reaching a hand out and placing it on his knee, squeezing it to let him know you were there. When he finishes, he places his hand over your own, opening his eyes as he looks down. His tears are flowing freely, and he leans into your touch when you wipe them from his cheeks.

    “I’ve been told that there is strength in a man that freely mourns, but… It’s silly. I can’t help but wish that I was stronger.” Kurt’s almost whispering as he speaks. You feel a lump form in your throat, your stinging eyes welling with tears for the countless time today. It hurts so unbelievably to see someone you love hurting so much, knowing that there is so little that you can do to make the pain go away, even if the loss is shared.

    “It’s not silly. I think that a lot of people feel the same- especially right now.” You say. You take hold of his left hand, tracing the cool metal band on his finger. You compare it to the one you wear, and find yourself thankful that the hand that bears his is still warm. You think of Rogue and Remy. The life they could’ve had together, if only they had been given more time. 

    You lean your head on Kurt’s shoulder, and he rests his head on top of your own. 

    “You don’t have to carry it alone.” You whisper eventually. Kurt says nothing, lacing his fingers between yours. “I know we haven't had a lot of time together lately, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve carried so much on your shoulders- but you don’t have to do it alone. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” Kurt laughs lightly at your words, squeezing your left hand before lifting it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

    “You are a gift that I’m not entirely sure I deserve, my love,” Kurt says. You scoff at him, frowning now as you look up to meet his eyes.

    “Lying is a sin, Kurt.” You say playfully. His smile is blinding, and you gasp as Kurt Wagner of all people rolls his eyes at you. 

    “Even if it was a lie, which it isn’t, as long as I have you near, Schatz, Heaven will be in reach.”

[vaporclan]

Hi Tumblr. Sorry for being MIA more often recently.

TW: Talking about unhygienic and gross shit

So you've seen me talk about the state of my room before. With your guys's help when I opened commissions a few months ago I was able to replace some of the nasty furniture last time, but I couldn't fix the actual room. It's still a state.

It's gotten entirely out of my control. There's trash bags everywhere, mold, some of the bags that have used cat litter in it have ripped and spilled everywhere, mold mites, fruit flies, moldy food everywhere, the carpet is stained with all sorts, etc

I just want a complete fresh start for 2025. It's clear I cannot clean this by myself. I've had a new bed sitting downstairs for a year now that I can't set up cause my room is so bad.

It's clear I'm gonna Have to hire a professional to do it, but it's gonna cost so much money. I'm disabled - I get paid 1k a month in disability benefits, most of which goes to rent, groceries and cat supplies, so I legit just can't afford to pay a professional.

It's gotten this bad because I am practically bedridden - I have no energy to do anything ever and spend 24 hours a day in bed. Even my bed is full of garbage and moldly food, and even my mattress topper is moldy. I haven't showered in forever cause I don't see a point.

My hair is matted, I need a haircut. I need new clothes cause they're all either dirty or lost.

I've tried over and over again for a year now to get my room under control, but I NEED professional help. My brother / carer has tried helping me but he also struggled, cause he has similar energy issues as well as a weak stomach.

I've contacted multiple deep cleaners, and I haven't been given an estimate yet, so I can't quite say how much it'll be but it'll definitely be in the hundreds.

I genuinely don't think I can do commissions again. I'm sorry. I already have burnout from the comic. I don’t know what to do. (Don't worry, I'll finish the commissions I do have soon, but I think I'm closing them for a good while after.)

I have my Patreon, where I'm sketching as much of the story as possible (I'm 106 pages ahead) + the discord where I post script snippets and concept art and talk about future plans.

I also have a PayPal, if you wish to help - but don't feel obligated.

Sorry for this. I'm struggling recently. It was my birthday at the start of this month, and I told myself I'd get my room sorted for my birthday. I tried to do it myself, but after a couple hours I realized it was fruitless. I lost the energy entirely and just got back in bed. I'm so tired of living like this.

[aventurineswife]

I am…not doing so hot atm. 🙂‍↕️ Can I request a small short where Reader is going thru it and kinda just. Lying in bed. Buried themselves under the blankets bc they had a rough few weeks and that morning they just didn’t have it in themselves to crawl out of bed (totally missing breakfast and lunch…and maybe dinner 💀).

Uhhhhhhhhh not sure who to choose I’m thinking maybe Robin, Himeko, Jing Yuan or Welt? (Or anyone else from Star Rail.) Platonic or romantic it doesn’t matter.

No Rush, No Burden

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Robin x Reader, Comfort, Emotional Support, Platonic Relationships, Gentle Care, Quiet Companionship, Soft Fluff, Slow burn, Tenderness, Quiet affection.

Warnings: Mentions of emotional exhaustion and fatigue, Non-graphic descriptions of being overwhelmed or burnout, Light angst (due to emotional struggles).

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that! I hope you get well!! 🫂💖 Also just a quick reminder for others: Please don’t take this as an opportunity to exploit the idea or ask for something on the spot. My works are all scheduled and planned in advance, so I can’t keep rescheduling or accommodate last-minute requests. I appreciate your understanding and patience! Thank you!

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, heavy like the blankets wrapped around your body. You hadn't moved much today. Maybe since yesterday. You weren’t counting anymore.

The room was silent, save for the occasional rustle of fabric when you shifted. The outside world felt far away—too far to reach, and honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted to.

Then, there was a knock. Gentle, but firm.

You didn’t answer.

The door slid open anyway, the scent of fresh tea wafting in before the soft click of boots followed.

"Ah," a familiar voice hummed, light and thoughtful, like he had already expected this scene. "So this is where you've been hiding."

You barely peeked out from under the covers. Through the dim light, you caught a glimpse of golden eyes, sharp yet warm, watching you with quiet understanding. Jing Yuan, your ever-persistent guardian, didn’t seem surprised. If anything, he seemed… patient.

"I had a feeling," he murmured, setting something down with a faint clink. "You missed every meal today. Even the chefs started to worry."

You wanted to say something—maybe an apology, maybe an excuse—but the words wouldn’t come.

Jing Yuan merely sighed, but it wasn’t exasperated. It was the kind of sigh that carried familiarity, the kind given by someone who had seen this before.

Without asking, he settled himself at the edge of your bed, his armor creaking softly as he adjusted his position. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms.

"I'm not here to drag you out," he said casually, closing his eyes. "The world will still be there tomorrow. Right now, though…" His voice trailed off, thoughtful. "I thought I'd keep you company for a while."

For a man with a reputation for being lazy, he certainly had a way of making his presence feel grounding.

You shifted slightly under the covers. “…You don’t have to.”

"I know," he said, his tone carrying a quiet smile. "But I will."

There was no urgency in his presence, no expectation. Just warmth. The steady rise and fall of his breathing, the occasional sound of fabric shifting as he got comfortable. It was… nice. Safe.

After a while, you felt the weight in your chest ease, just a little. Maybe you weren’t ready to get up yet—but you weren’t alone. And somehow, that was enough.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep.

Or if you had even really been asleep at all.

The blankets were cocooned around you, your limbs heavy, your mind clouded by exhaustion. Time had slipped away, stretching into something intangible, and you had long stopped keeping track of meals or daylight.

But then, a soft melody began to weave through the silence.

It wasn’t intrusive. It didn’t demand anything from you. It was just… there. A gentle hum, carrying warmth and familiarity, wrapping around the room like a delicate embrace.

Robin.

Even before she spoke, you knew.

There was a faint rustling as she settled beside your bed, her presence quiet but unwavering. The melody lingered for a few more seconds before fading into the air.

"You don’t have to say anything," she said softly, as if sensing the struggle in your silence. "I just wanted to be here."

Something about her voice—smooth, melodic, laced with a tenderness she rarely showed in crowds—made your chest ache.

A pause. Then, a small chuckle.

"You know, I once did this for myself," Robin admitted, amusement laced with something more somber. "On nights when I felt too tired to face the world, I would sing. Not for anyone else, just… for me."

The air felt lighter somehow.

"You don’t have to do anything today," she continued. "Or tomorrow. Or even the day after, if you need the rest." A gentle touch against your shoulder, fleeting but reassuring. "But I’ll be here. If you ever want company."

Her fingers brushed against something on the nightstand. A plate, maybe? You caught the faintest scent of something warm—freshly baked bread, lightly sweet, something easy to eat even if you didn’t have the energy.

No pressure. No expectations.

Just care.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers twitching under the blankets. You weren’t ready to move yet.

But maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone in this.

And that was enough.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #18 THE ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT BURNOUT

i feel exhausted. And I don’t mean like "Oh, I need a nap" exhausted y'all know exhaustion that sits in ur bones that makes even the smallest tasks feel like moving a mountain Even when I do get some rest like sleeping for 8h do breathing techniques I still wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. And not a small one I'm talking an 18-wheeler, full speed (call it whatever u want) . I was tired all the time yet somehow also restless. I wanted to do something, but I also didn’t want to do anything. I was stuck in this weird, miserable limbo where everything felt pointless, but at the same time, I was stressed about not doing enough. Like, how does that even make sense?And honestly, it got to a point where I wasn’t even living anymore I was just existing. Just floating through days waiting for the next one hoping I’d feel better but never really doing anything about it. Because when you’re that deep in burnout, it’s hard to even believe that you can feel better.

But you can. And I know that sounds cliché as hell but listen to me for a second. If I could drag myself out of that deep, dark hole, you definitely can too. And I’m not saying it’s gonna be easy, but I swear to you, it’s possible.

ᡣ𐭩 sᴛᴇᴘ ᴏɴᴇ: sᴛᴏᴘ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ

If someone talked to you the way you talk to yourself you’d probably wanna fight them Like imagine your younger self sitting right in front of you. If they were struggling, feeling drained, feeling like a failure, would you yell at them to “get their shit together” and call them lazy? No, right? You’d probably comfort them, tell them it’s okay, tell them they don’t have to be perfect.

So why the hell are you so mean to yourself?

Burnout doesn’t happen because you’re weak or lazy but it happens because you’ve been pushing yourself too hard for too long bu experience cuz when I study every single day like NOO stop wake up early,homeworks,school and the same loop go for 1 month I burn out for maybe 15days after (like rn) And let’s be honest, most of us don’t even realize it’s happening until we’re knee-deep in exhaustion. You keep telling yourself, “Oh, I’ll rest once I finish this” or “I just need to push through a little more,” until one day, your body and brain just quit on you.

So the first step? Start being nice to yourself. Start talking to yourself the way you’d talk to a best friend who’s struggling. Because you are not the problem burnout is.

ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴡᴏ: ʀᴇsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs ᴏɴ ɪᴛ (ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴅᴏᴇs)

I know resting sounds like the most obvious advice ever, but do you actually do it? Because scrolling on your phone for five hours doesn’t count as rest. Lying in bed while spiraling about everything you should be doing? Also not rest.

Real rest means giving yourself permission to slow down without feeling guilty. It means doing things that actually recharge you so don't force urself to do ur hard tasks like intense workout at 6am saying yes to extra tasks or project ... But say yes to take walks , listening to music, watching a comfort show DO ANYTHING THAT MAKE U HAPPY not everyone have the same (happiness detox) so yeah . And most importantly, it means not punishing yourself for needing a break.Because pooks you’re not a machine. You weren’t built to be productive 24/7. Even your phone needs to be charged, and you’re out here expecting yourself to run on 2% battery every day? Yeah, no wonder you feel like shit.

ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀᴍɴ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ғʀᴏᴍ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ

i know. "But I just use it to relax." Do you? Do you really? Because last time u checked, scrolling through Instagram or tiktok for hours and comparing your life to a bunch of people who only post their highlight reels doesn’t exactly scream relaxation.

Social media is draining u .fr u don’t even realize it half the time, but it’s constantly feeding your brain unrealistic expectations. One second you’re watching someone’s “That Girl” morning routine, and the next, you feel like a failure because you don’t wake up at 5 AM to drink matcha and do yoga on a balcony.

And don’t even get me started on doomscrolling. Like, do I need to know every bad thing happening in the world the second I wake up? No. But do I do it anyway? Also yes. And then I wonder why I feel like shit before my day even starts.

So hear me out pookie log off. Even for just a day. Delete the apps if you have to limit time . Go touch some grass. Read a book. Hell stare at the ceiling if you want. Just give your brain a break from the constant noise. Trust me, you’ll feel a million times lighter.

ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏᴜʀ: sᴛᴏᴘ ᴍᴇᴀsᴜʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ

I used to think that if I wasn’t being productive, I wasn’t worth anything. Like, if I wasn’t working, studying, or doing something “useful,” I was just wasting my life. And if I had a day where I didn’t get anything done? the self-hate would kick in.

But fr your value is not based on how much you do. You are not just a machine made to produce work and complete tasks. You are a human being who deserves to exist without constantly proving yourself.

Think about it .. do you judge your friends based on how productive they are? Do you stop loving someone just because they took a lazy day? No. So why do you do it to yourself?Taking a break doesn’t make you a failure. Resting doesn’t make you lazy. And slowing down doesn’t mean you’re falling behind. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is give yourself space to breathe.

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛʜᴇ 𝟷-ʜᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅ: ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪғᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ʙᴜʀɴᴏᴜᴛ

U feel exhausted, unmotivated, and even simple tasks feel like a challenge. You know you need to do something, but damn you can’t even bring yourself to move. I get it.

So here’s the deal We’re not fixing your whole life in one day buuuut Instead, we’re using the 1-Hour Method—because when you’re burnt out, committing to an entire day of productivity feels impossible. But one hour? That’s doable.

Step 1: The One-Hour Reset

You don’t need to “fix” everything. Just commit to one hour of doing something that will make you feel 1% better. That’s it.

⏳ The Rules:

Set a timer for 60 minutes.

Pick 2-3 small things that will make you feel lighter.

Do them with zero pressure. Imperfect action > no action.

Examples:

⏰ Minute 0-10: Get out of bed. Wash your face. Brush your teeth. You don’t need a full “that girl” routine, just refresh yourself.

⏰ Minute 10-20: Make your space 5% cleaner. Not a full deep clean—just clear the trash, fold a blanket, or open the window. Small changes, big difference.

⏰ Minute 20-40: Do one small productive task—answer an email, write one sentence of an essay, organize one folder. Just something that reminds you that you can do things.

⏰ Minute 40-60: Move your body. Stretch, walk around, dance to a song—anything to shake off the mental fog.

One hour down, and I guarantee you’ll feel even slightly better than before.

Step 2: The 1-Hour Rule for Self-Comparison

Nothing drains your energy more than constantly feeling behind in life. Comparing yourself to others? Yeah, that’s a fast track to burnout.But the people u’re comparing yourself to? They have bad days too. They feel lost too. They struggle too. You just don’t see it.

So for the next hour try this:

Write down 3 things you’ve accomplished last days or months No matter how small. Maybe you learned a new skill, took care of yourself on a rough day, or simply kept going when you wanted to quit. That counts.

Unfollow or mute accounts that make you feel “less than.” If it doesn’t inspire you, it’s draining you Simple.

Shift your mindset. Instead of “Why am I not there yet?” ask “How can I grow at my own pace?”

You’re doing better than you think. You don’t need to rush. Your journey is yours.

Step 3: The 1-Hour Rule for Overwhelm

Burnout often comes from having too much on your plate. So, instead of drowning in to-do lists, use this:

→ Pick 1 hour a day to focus on just ONE thing. No multitasking. No distractions. Just one task that actually matters.When you train your brain to handle things one at a time, everything feels less overwhelming.

You don’t have to “get your life together” overnight. You just have to start.

ᡣ𐭩sᴛᴇᴘ ғɪᴠᴇ: ғɪɴᴅ ᴊᴏʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ (ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴍᴀʟʟᴇsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs)

I know what you’re thinking “ I don’t even remember what joy feels like.” And I get it. When you’re burnt out, everything feels dull, like life lost its color.But you can bring it back. And no, I’m not saying you need to go on some self-discovery journey. Sometimes, it starts with the smallest things listening to a song you used to love, rewatching a movie that made you happy, making a dumb inside joke with a friend, buying yourself a little treat just because , go through ur old photos, remember ur high grades or whatever makes u joyful and full of love

Joy isn’t always some big Sometimes it’s just a tiny moment that reminds you life isn’t all stress and exhaustion.And the more you find those small moments, the more you start to feel alive again.

ᡣ𐭩 ʟᴀsᴛ sᴛᴇᴘ : ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ, ɪ sᴡᴇᴀʀ

If you’re reading this and thinking, “Damn, I don’t even know where to start,” that’s okay. Just start small. Start with one thing whether it’s being kinder to yourself, taking an actual rest day, stepping away from social media, or just reminding yourself that burnout does not define you.Because you will get through this. You’re stronger than you think. And one day, you’re gonna look back at this version of yourself and be so damn proud that you kept going.

Until then? Take it one step at a time or even an hour at the time be gentle with yourself pookie and remember: you are not alone in this.

@bloomzone

[finz-art]

So, after sitting with everything for a while and reading through all your kind, thoughtful responses, I decided to give it a shot and reopened my Patreon.

I won't lie, things are still a lttle shaky. I'm still struggling with a bit of burnout, imposter syndrome, and that familiar pit of self doubt that tells me none of this will work out. But the support, encouragement, and empathy so many of you offered reminded me that I don't have to figure everything out overnight, or even over a year. Maybe I don't need to be at my best all the time to still be doing the thing I love.

So... here's me trying. I'm not promising miracles or perfect consistency, but I want to try building something more stable, something that doesn't rely solely on commissions to keep my head above water.

Thank you for believing in me when I didn't. It genuinely means more than I can put into words ;///;❤️❤️

[samegirldifferentworld]

Imagine Dean Winchester taking care of you when you’re injured and burnt out… 

Testing the waters of sharing fanfictions. As a taster of my writing style, here's just a short drabble I wrote while struggling with my own burnout (yay ty autism ily) - and it's the first SPN fanfiction I've written in a LONG time so I might be a bit rusty... please be gentle :')

Also I know a lot of these are usually written in the second person, but I find I'm better writing in the first person. Hope you enjoy, and if you like what you've read, I'll share more in the future!

Summary: You've been busy with multiple hunts and it's starting to take it's toll. While you've been able to hide those feelings for a while, you can't hide it from a Winchester - and luckily, Dean is able to help you out when you need him most. Cast:  Dean Winchester

Genre: fluff, comfort Word count: 1,665

notes / warnings: injury, burnout, mental health/depression talk (she/her pronoun reader)

‘Hey! Wake up!’ 

I could feel someone shaking my shoulder, trying to coax me out of slumber. My eyes snapped open, and I took a sharp gasp of breath as I was brought out of rest. I looked up to see who the culprit was… and I was greeted by a man with hair the colour of wave-kissed sand, apple-green eyes and clad in plaid.  

Dean, the older Winchester.  

I groaned lightly as I struggled to sit up and ruffled my hair. I noticed the room was slightly spinning. Why the hell was I feeling so dizzy?!  

“Ugh… where’s the fire, Dean?!” 

My voice came out slightly croakier than I hoped for, which shocked me. My head was pounding as I was starting to come round. 

“I don’t get it... why do I feel like this?” 

Dean raised his brow in concern, his eyes lit up in confusion, his hand still resting on my shoulder. 

“You don’t remember?” he asked.  

I looked around me, trying to find clues to help me recognise where I was. I shook my head, which didn’t help with the dizziness situation. I could sense I was in a bedroom of some description, but that was it.  

“Where am I?” 

Dean couldn’t believe it. “You’re in the bunker. You’ve been zonked out for a while, and Sammy wanted me to check in on you while he’s nerding it up in the library.” 

Sam was the younger Winchester, a tall and handsome man with the perfect cocktail of brains, beauty and a sprinkle of brawn thrown in for good measure. Clearly, he had taken to his books to research another case.  

I noticed my arm was starting to itch and reached over to scratch, but it was covered with a bandage. I had no idea why I could need to be patched up like this... 

“Where did this come from? Dean... What happened to me?” 

Dean lightly chuckled. “You really don’t remember… the vampires? You practically got into a Jack Sparrow machete swordfight with them...” 

The memories came flooding back at his prompt. There had been one or two insane back-to-back hunts – there were demons (one of which I managed to exorcise), malevolent spirits and a Wendigo in the woods. And now, vampires. Apparently, my machete skills weren’t quite up to par this time round. After all these insane hunts coming one after the other, I was starting to feel run down. I sighed deeply, a nauseating feeling bubbling up in the back of my throat.  

“Remind me never to do that again.” 

Dean smirked. “Yeah, alright…”  

I bowed my head, catching my forehead in my hands, trying to forget about everything. Dean clocked that I wasn’t myself and immediately stepped in. He sat down on the bed next to me, his hand resting across my back and gently rubbing it in little circles.  

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

“I don’t feel so good, Dean…” 

“In what way?” 

“I guess…” I took a second to collect my thoughts. “I’m feeling really tired… and everything hurts… and my brain feels scrambled…” 

Dean was quick to figure out a diagnosis.  

“I think I know what’s wrong. (Y/N). You’re burnt out.” 

“Huh?” 

“Listen, you know what makes you a good hunter? The way you can adapt and improvise at the drop of a hat. But the last case, you missed the ball, struck out, made a few careless mistakes… and that led to you getting hurt.”  

I shrugged. “Okay, so maybe I’ve been going full-out on the last couple of hunts, while I’ve been running on an almost empty tank... but I’m sure I’ll be fine. It can’t be that serious.” 

I swivelled my body to allow my feet to dangle from the bed, starting to get ready to stand up. “Maybe I should go and see what Sam is reading about-” 

Except it didn’t come out as ‘about’. It came out as a cry of sheer pain. My ankle felt like it was on fire as I stood up and tried to walk, my knee buckled, and I tumbled to the floor. Dean managed to roll over the bed and crouch beside me.  

“What the hell?!” I exclaimed, panting through the burning sensation raging through my ankle.  

Dean placed his hand on the knee that didn’t buckle from under me, his thumb tracing against it.  

“Listen to me, (Y/N). You’re not gonna like this, but you’re benched. Only thing worse than a bad hunter is a dead hunter. And I can’t take that risk with you, because I care about you too much to allow that.” 

I could feel my bottom lip begin to tremble as I fought back tears. Both Dean and his brother, Sam, cared more for me than most people I had ever known, and that meant the world to me. The dam burst as a couple of tears spilt over. 

“Okay, I admit it... I’ve not been hunting at my best lately... I’ve let you down, Dean... And I’m really-” 

Dean quickly silenced me. “Hey, if the next word to come out of your mouth is ‘sorry’, we’re gonna have a problem.” 

I let out a shaky exhale. Dean could clearly see that I was hurt, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. He took hold of my arm and threw it over his shoulder.  

“Right, let’s get you back onto this bed...” 

He helped me stand up, and while I winced in pain, Dean was careful in sitting me back onto the bed. 

“I know it hurts...” 

His eyes lit up as an idea entered his head.  

“I will be back in a minute. Wait here... and do NOT move.” 

Dean walked out of the room, leaving me alone with only my thoughts keeping me company. I threw my head back onto the pillows in despair, silent tears welling up and escaping.  

Maybe Dean was right. Clearly, I’d been pushing myself to constantly be at 100%, but now that number was dwindling, reducing further with every hunt I’d been on. Right now, I was probably sitting at about 25%, maybe 30 at the most.  

Dean returned, clutching hold of an icepack, a spare pillow and a flask of water. He set the flask down on the nightstand and came to my ankle.  

“I’ll tell you now, this might sting a little bit,” he warned me.  

He carefully lifted my ankle up, placed the pillow down on the bed and let my ankle rest on top of it. He then took the icepack and laid it across my ankle, which made me hiss as ripples of pain came to the surface.  

“I feel useless laying here... surely there must be something I can do.” 

“Yes, there is. You can stay here, rest up and make sure you’re fighting fit for the next round.” 

He picked up the water flask and handed it to me. “That includes staying hydrated.”  

After shuffling against the bed and sitting up, I tentatively took a sip of water from the flask. It was cold, but it helped to ease the burning in my throat. I looked up at Dean.  

“Thank you, Dean.” 

“You’re welcome, (Y/N). And hey, don’t beat yourself up. We all need to rest from time to time.” 

I furrowed my brow. “Even you? And Sam, too?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes it’s hard to step back, I get it. When you’ve been doing this as long as we have, it gets addictive, almost. It’s hard knowing when you have to stop, put the brakes on. But remember, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. Sam and I have got your back.” 

At this point, with all the terrible things I’d seen, I’d managed to toughen up. But in this moment, I felt so vulnerable... and I couldn’t help it. I’d been bottling this up for longer than I care to admit, not wanting Sam or Dean to see any weakness in me. But now, it was too late for that. I just couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. Dean saw that I was upset and reacted quickly and kindly.  

“Oh, sweetheart...” 

He sat down on the bed beside me, putting his arm around me and drawing me in so that my head rested against his shoulder. His thumb was stroking against my head as I sobbed.  

“It’s okay... I’m here... You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” 

I found comfort in his strong but gentle touch, inhaling the scent of aftershave and alcohol that lingered on him, which played a part in offering me some comfort. He carefully allowed me to break away and ran his thumb under my eyes, attempting to wipe away my tears. 

“I’ve got an idea. How about we both take a rest, right here, for a while... and then I’ll fix us something to eat when you’re feeling a little better. How’s that sound?” 

I let a smile creep onto my face. “I like that. Thank you so much, Dean. And I’m really-” 

I managed to stop myself from saying that word before Dean could react. 

“I mean... I’m really... lucky... to have you and Sam around.” 

Dean let off a light chuckle. “Alright, you saved it. Now come on, let’s get cosy.” 

I shuffled back down so I was laid against the pillows. Dean laid down beside me, his arm around me and allowing me to cuddle up to him like a child cuddles up to their teddy. Dean’s fingers started to play with little sections of my hair, which, paired with the rise and fall of his chest that matched his gentle breathing, was the perfect combination for relaxation. I felt myself sinking deeper back into slumber.  

Dean noticed that I was starting to settle, and he pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead, his slightly chapped lips warm and comforting against my skin.  

“Lay your weary head to rest, (Y/N),” Dean said quietly. “Don’t you cry no more.” 

[wingedshadowfan]

everything points to bodhi being the new venin brother at the end of onyx storm (xaden saying whoever turned has been watching him struggle for the past 5 months, bodhi being one of the riders missing, xaden marrying violet so she gets the throne and not the next in line) but i wanna know what people think about bodhi's character. bcuz here's the impression i got from it all:

of course, it makes sense xaden and bodhi's dynamic changed a lot in onyx storm because of xaden becoming venin. he started preparing bodhi to become the heir to riorson house, take over his spot on the assembly and his role as leader of the revolution. this seems to have caused tension between them bcuz while bodhi (along with imogen and garrick) was aware xaden was beginning to lose it, he also rebelled against xaden preparing him to take over for him - like he didn't want to accept xaden might die or lose himself completely. xaden becoming the duke of tyrrendor only made it worse bcuz now he had to prepare bodhi to take over the entire province.

up until that book, bodhi never gave me the vibe of someone who would turn venin, of someone who was jealous of xaden and felt like he deserves more than he was given - in fact, he seemed content to stay "in the shadows". he'd seen the weight xaden had to carry firsthand. he'd accepted his supporting role with pride and dignity. he didn't want the throne, he didn't want to replace xaden, he didn't want what xaden had (nor did he want violet which i've heard ppl say) and he didn't want xaden to die. he promises xaden he'd be back and even tells him

i don't want your fucking province.

and when theophanie tried to manipulate him, he literally tells her

we don't have a crown. you don't know me well enough to try and fuck with my head. i'm doing exactly what i've always wanted - protecting my cousin, my province.

and yes, the fact that he couldn't counter theophanie's signet right after and his dragon had to take him away against his will did something to him, because he thought his signet was the balance, but i still don't think he would've reached.

(there's also the fact that in xaden's pov, his new brother has already turned by the time xaden reaches and his shadows blot out the sky, but in imogen's pov, bodhi is on the ground throwing up when the sky darkens. this could just be the storm though. or maybe garrick, who was pushing burnout, turned - but that would make even less sense.)

unless bodhi went mad.

he'd told violet he has only one signet, and if he'd had a second, he would've used it by now. had his dragon also bonded a direct relative?

[nonscathingbullets]

Worrying for Nuthin'

Darry x Reader (Drabble)

⚠️WARNING: Mentions of not eating⚠️

Basically, just Darry comforting gf!reader and yeah

You were exhausted from a long day of work, absolutely dead on your feet. You'd been having issues with your manager for a while now, and almost every day was a fight. On top of that, you and Darry were pinching pennies just to try and pay for Ponyboy to go to college. You didn't tell anyone, but you would secretly skip dinner just so the leftovers would last longer. You'd just tell Darry you already ate enough while cooking. He let it be for a while, but then he noticed you began losing weight. With worrying about the bills, Pony's college, and the burnout from work, you were reaching the end of your rope. You dragged your feet through the front door and towards the kitchen. "Y/n... sweetheart, are you alright?" Darry asked, looking up from his paper. You pulled out the leftover stew from the night before and poured it into a pot on the stove before turning it on.

"I'm fine, Dar, just tired is all," you mumbled, staring into the pot. You stirred its contents as your mind drifted to tomorrow. The thought of having another argument with your manager consumed you along with the worries about money. The wantingness to quit was overpowering, but you barely made the light bill in the past month, and Darry already works so much that you knew it could never be an option. You heard Darry's heavy footsteps behind you as you turned the heat up on the stove.

"Baby, I know you're lyin' to me," he accused gruffly. You started to tremble with anxiety. Now you can add another problem to the pile, worrying Darry. It was all too much to bear. Your chest tightened, and your air became restricted as you stumbled back. "Woah there, I gotcha," Darry said as he managed to catch you swiftly. He gently knelt to the floor with you in his arms as you desperately gasped for air. Your head was also spinning from the lack of nutrients that came with your insistence of not eating properly. "Baby, ya need to breathe. Hear me? Breathe," he encouraged, demonstrating how to properly inhale and exhale. After a couple of minutes, you managed to even out your breathing and turned around, grabbing onto the edges of his button-up.

"Darry..." You lost all control and began to sob uncontrollably.

"Shh, shh baby," he hushed you softly as he sat on the floor, pulling you into his lap. "I know... I know," he hummed. You could feel his chest rumble as he spoke. He ran his fingers through your hair soothingly as you continued to cry.

"I don't know what to do, Darry. My job is torture, I'm so overwhelmed. We still don't have enough money for Pony's college. We're still struggling with the bills, and I'm so scared," you choked out between sobs. Darry tightened one arms around you as he used his other hand to make you look up at him.

"Now baby, you shouldn't be worrying about all that. You do enough 'round here. And if work's botherin' ya look for somethin' else sweetheart... but stop worryin' so much about the money. I always find a way to take care of it. Sodapop, too, so quit it," he lectured gently. "Oh... and stop with this not eatin' dinner shit. We got plenty of food without you starving yourself just to save a couple bucks." You froze, swallowing hard.

"Y-You know about that?" You questioned in a small voice.

"Honey, I ain't stupid," he retorted in slight amusement. You buried your face in his chest as a few more tears escaped. Darry rubbed your back soothingly as he kissed the top of your head.

"What's goin' on?" Ponyboy inquired as he walked through the house and into the kitchen. The sight of the two of you on the floor confused him a bit.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Pony... say, turn that stove off and serve some of that up, will ya? Hand me a bowl full," Darry told him.

"Okay, Dar, hang on," he replied, doing what Darry told him. Darry took the bowl from Ponyboy and sat you up, placing the bowl in your hands.

"Now, we're not going nowhere until you eat every last bit of what's in this bowl, dig?" You nodded slowly, showing you understood and that you would do what he demanded of you. You began eating spoonful after spoonful of the stew, your body thankful for the nourishment it was finally receiving. "Good girl," he praised, rubbing the back of your head tenderly. Ponyboy raised an eyebrow at Darry as he took his own bowl to the table and sat down to eat. After you were finished, Darry sat you down in his armchair, covering you with his button-up. Soda was finally home from work, and the both of them ate quickly. Soda was anxious for a shower, and Darry didn't want to leave you alone for very long.

After dinner, Darry took you to bed while Ponyboy cleaned up the dishes. He had noticed you begining to zone out again while putting on your pajamas. "Hey baby... you're right here with me, remember?" Darry's voice reminded you from the bed.

"Sorry, Darry," you spoke softly, making your way over to him. "You're always having to take care of me, it seems," you pointed out in slight embarrassment. He chuckled, grabbing your hips and easing you into the bed beside him. You snuggled into his side, clinging to him as if you were scared he would disappear. He hugged you to him securely.

"I'm always going to take care of you, honey. I'm not going anywhere," he mumbled into your hair. "I love you, baby. I don't know where I'd be without ya." You blushed at his words before uttering out a tearful reply.

"I love you too, Dar."

[big-ooof]

omg i loved „The Quiet Ways You Ask For Love“ 😭 it felt so comforting and i loved the mix with suggestiveness. can you maybe write something familiar with jay also with a black cat maybe even avoidant fem!reader? it can also have slight smut, however you like it <3

Jay x f!reader

note: thanks for request! The Quiet Ways You Ask For Love tugs on my heartstrings a lot because i'm a sad girlie and writing it felt like a tight, warm hug.

But Jay's personality fits well with an avoidant female reader. you caught me at a good time because i'm not on the struggle bus today when it comes to smut lol. hope you enjoy! sexual content 18+ also tw: mental health themes— reader has an anxiety/panic attack.

You hadn’t spoken to Jay in years. Not since the morning you left his dorm with nothing more than a soft, “I’m sorry,” and the stuff you kept in his dorm in bag. You didn’t owe him an explanation—or at least that’s what your therapist tried to help you believe when you told her it was better to vanish than disappoint someone like him. Someone steady. Someone who knew how to stay while you didn’t.

You moved back to your hometown after burnout post-grad swallowed you whole. The city drained everything—your savings, your energy, your ability to pretend you were fine. You move into a small apartment near the edge of town. It's quiet, it echoes when you walk, and sometimes, when your heart gets stuck in your throat, it becomes too quiet.

You knew once your body slowed down and your environment was no longer high-stress that an anxiety attack would come. All the feelings and emotions you suppressed rose like a tidal wave. You feel it creeping, like hands wrapping around your ribs. You try the usual things—counting tiles, deep breaths, grounding techniques—but your limbs still go numb, and your chest still hurts.

So you text him: i’m okay. i’m just having an anxiety attack and i remembered that telling you would ease my mind a little bit, bc at least someone knew.

You don’t expect anything back. You especially don’t expect the knock on your door twenty minutes later. You hesitate opening it, not because you don’t know who it is—you do, because of course he came—but because you don’t know how to be seen by him now. Not like this. Disassembled. Small.

But when you open the door, Jay doesn’t speak. He just takes one look at your shaking form, kicks his shoes off, and steps inside.

You blink at him. “Did I… how did you—”

“You gave me the code to the building,” He shrugs. “You must’ve felt safe enough to tell me while you were texting me.”

He puts a hand on your lower back like it’s the most natural thing, like he hasn’t been a ghost for two years, and guides you to the couch. “You’re cold,” he murmurs, tugging a throw blanket over you. “Try to breathe.”

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “I just—”

“I know.” And the thing is, he does.

He sits on the edge of the couch at first, but when you quietly inch closer, your fingers grazing his wrist, he shifts so you can curl into him. You’re trembling. He holds you anyway. Not tightly. Just there. You don’t talk. He doesn’t ask.

You wake up a few hours later in your bed. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have carried you. There’s a glass of water on your nightstand. Your phone is charging. The bedroom door is cracked open, and when you step out, Jay is still there—sitting on your living room floor, back against the couch, flipping through an old magazine.

“You stayed,” you murmur, voice scratchy.

He looks up slowly. “Yeah.”

“…Why?”

His eyes are steady. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

Your chest aches.

You don’t let yourself cry until he makes you tea without asking how you take it. The same way you did in college. Same mug, if you’re honest. You hadn’t realized he noticed.

“You didn’t have to come,” you say softly.

“I know.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

“I did.”

You curl your hands into your sleeves. “I’m sorry I left like that... while we were in college.”

“I figured you weren’t ready to be cared for,” he says. No accusation. Just truth. “But I never stopped hoping you’d let someone try.”

You blink. “Even after all this time?”

“Especially after all this time.”

You’re now lying side by side on your bed. Neither of you has moved to leave. You shift onto your side and you touch his face. The line of his jaw. The little scar near his temple from when he hit his head on your shelf sophomore year.

“I thought about you,” you say. “More than I wanted to.”

Jay exhales slowly, eyes on your lips. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

When he kisses you, it’s so painfully gentle you feel your chest split open. His lips brush yours like he’s memorizing them all over again. No urgency. No heat at first—just warmth. Familiarity. Longing.

You tug at his shirt and he lets you pull it off, lets you trace the defined lines of his chest, your touch shaky but curious.

“Yeah?” he whispers against your cheek.

You nod. “I want you to stay tonight. Please?”

There’s no rush, just the quiet drag of his hands over your skin, the soft hush of his breath against your collarbone, the way his body fits over yours like you were always meant to come back to this. To him. When he slides inside you, your legs wrap around his waist like instinct. You bury your face into his shoulder. He groans softly into your hair. You cling to him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, over and over. “I’ve always had you.”

He sleeps with his arms around you, your head tucked under his chin, one hand holding yours like he’s anchoring you.

When morning comes, you wake up before him. You stare at his face, your heart both full and aching. You don’t know what this is yet. But maybe you don’t have to label it. Maybe it’s enough that he came. Maybe it’s enough that when you finally let yourself reach out, it was him who answered. And it always would be.

The sun filters in faintly through the blinds, a warm, washed-out glow tracing the edges of Jay’s face. He’s still curled around you—his hand resting lightly at your waist, his breath steady and deep. You stay like that for a while, letting the silence hum around you, your heartbeat calm but full.

It’s a strange kind of safety—waking up like this. With him. You inch closer. Let your fingers glide along his chest, then down the flat of his stomach. His skin is warm, the kind of warmth you want to drown in. Jay stirs slightly, a little groan in his throat as your fingertips dip lower, teasing along the waistband of the sweats he borrowed last night.

“You awake?” you whisper.

A sleepy hum. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he tilts his head toward you. “Mmhmm… am now.”

“You okay?” you ask.

He nods softly, eyes still half-lidded. “More than okay.”

You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then another one to his jaw. When you shift to straddle his hips, he lets you—hands falling to your thighs but not guiding you. Just holding.

Your lips brush over his throat. “Let me?”

That makes his eyes flutter open, dark and soft. “You don’t have to ask.”

You smile. “I know. I just want to hear it.”

His voice is barely a breath. “Yes. Please.”

You lean down and kiss him, slow and deep. He lets you take it—mouth opening under yours, fingers gripping your thighs tighter when your hips begin to roll.

He’s hard already, quietly, beneath you. The way he reacts to your touch, so easy to unravel—it makes your chest twist with something bittersweet. He still wants you. Completely. Without question.

You reach between you, dragging your fingers down his abdomen until you tug his sweats lower, enough to free him. His breath hitches when your hand wraps around him, thumb brushing over the head.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, forehead resting against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Good,” you tease, kissing down his neck. “Let me.”

He groans when you sink down on him, slow and steady, your walls clenching as you take him inch by inch. You’re wet, aching, but in control—and he’s helpless beneath you, hands still on your hips now like he’s trying not to squeeze too hard.

“Shit—you feel…” His eyes roll back slightly. “You feel so good.”

You rock your hips, deliberately slow. Watching him. Watching his mouth part, his brows furrow, his chest rise and fall like he’s unraveling with every breath.

“You like me like this?” you whisper, dragging your nails gently across his chest.

His jaw flexes. “I love you like this.”

You still. The words hang in the air like smoke, impossible to take back.

His eyes are wide now, lips parted in surprise at himself. “Sorry—shit—I didn’t mean to scare—”

You cut him off with your mouth, kissing him hard, deeper than before. The kiss is messy and open and full of too much feeling, too much time lost.

You ride him harder now, your hands braced on his chest, hips finding a rhythm that pulls curses from his lips and gasps from yours.

Jay grips your hips tighter, matching your movements now. “You’re perfect like this,” he breathes. “On top of me, taking what you want. You don’t even know what you do to me—fuck.”

You lean over, press your forehead to his. “You’re mine, right?”

His voice breaks. “Always.”

It’s not just physical anymore—it never was. It’s deeper than that, more intimate than skin. It’s the way he clings to you now, eyes locked on yours, like he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you breaking apart above him.

You cum first, a long, shaking moan pulled from your chest as you cry out his name, clenching tight around him. He follows moments later, spilling inside you with a low, wrecked groan, his arms curling around your back, body trembling under yours.

After, you stay there. Straddling his hips, your forehead resting on his collarbone, the rise and fall of his chest calming your racing heart. Jay’s fingers trace slow circles on your back.

You whisper, “You’re still in love with me.”

He kisses the side of your head. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s not,” you say quietly. “Not at all.”

Jay’s still shirtless, towel slung lazily around his neck, when you start pulling things from the back of your half-empty fridge.

“Let me guess,” he says, padding into the kitchen, voice still hoarse from sleep. “Breakfast for dinner?”

You shoot him a look over your shoulder. “Only because I forgot to buy real groceries when I moved back.”

He chuckles, stepping up behind you and slipping his arms around your waist. “I missed this.”

“This?”

His lips brush your neck. “You in the kitchen, pretending not to need some help when you cook.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean back into him. He doesn’t ask for more. Doesn’t press you to define what this is. He just stays. And that alone makes your throat tighten.

You nudge his shoulder. “Want to go to the store with me?”

Jay raises a brow. “You’re voluntarily going out in public before 6 p.m.? Who are you and what have you done with the woman who used to hide from group projects?”

You snort. “I’m evolving.”

“Like a moody Pokémon?”

“Exactly.”

He smiles—wide, open, beautiful. “Lead the way, Eevee.”

You walk side by side through the store, your basket slowly filling with vegetables, rice, meat—enough for a real dinner.

Jay’s carrying the basket, casually commenting on random things: why cucumbers always look vaguely smug, how he once ate an entire packet of raw ramen in college, how the pasta aisle always smells faintly like cardboard.

You don’t say much. But you listen. And somewhere between the fresh garlic and the sesame oil, you quietly step away, down a different aisle. When you return, you silently slip something small into the basket.

Jay doesn’t say anything at first. Just glances down. It’s a toothbrush. A soft blue one. Still in the packaging. Still sitting on top of the bell peppers like it belongs there. He freezes for a moment, blinking. Then slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours.

You don’t look away. “Thought it’d be weird if you kept using mine.”

His lips part, a little breath caught in his throat. “…yeah?”

You nod. No speech. No monologue. Just you, letting him in. Bit by bit.

He smiles—gentle, reverent. Like you just gave him something sacred. “Alright,” he murmurs, voice warm and a little hoarse. “I’ll keep it next to yours.”

Back at your apartment you cook together. He chops the onions because you hate the way they sting your eyes. You stir the sauce because he always overdoes it. It’s quiet and chaotic in the way that feels easy.

He brushes past you at one point, hand on your lower back as he reaches for the salt. You turn around too quickly and bump into his chest. You both laugh. And then you kiss him. Because you can. Because he’s still here.

Because you put a toothbrush in the basket and didn’t need to explain it.