#I have so many diagnoses I can barely keep up

[goorgeousz]

hotch has feelings for you and decides to deal with it (going to a psychiatrist)

drabble

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem!reader

content/tw: none i think?

a/n: a drabble no one asked for… yet, here i am. idek what is this… anyways… THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS 😭❤️ i’m soooo happy sending much love to each and every one of you MWAH MWAH MWAH

dividers by @uzmacchiato

masterlist

“What brings you here today, Mr. Hotchner?” the psychiatrist asks, adjusting her large glasses up on her nose.

Hotch shifts on his seat, a frown forming on his features. The first thing that comes to his mind at that question is you. Your laugh, your glistening eyes, your smart mouth, your legs…

“I’m having a… problem. And I need it fixed.” his mouth barely moved. The psychiatrist stifled a sigh. He’s that kind of patient. Those who want instant solutions to many-decades old problems without giving a hint of what it’s about. Every professional’s personal favorite.

“Okay, then.” she hoped she sounded more excited than she felt “Why don’t we start with symptoms?” he nodded – yes, he could do that – “Are you having trouble breathing?”

“Sometimes.” she nodded, writing it down. It was a start, since there was nothing on his physical exams – which he brought on a fold, all labeled and laminated.

“How is your sleep schedule?”

“Not ideal.”

“Is this a regular thing or do you think your… problem… is causing that?”

“Both.”

The woman nodded, pressing her lips together and scribbling harder on her paper. Aaron fought the urge to ask what she was writing.

“How are your eating habits?”

“Fine. I’m eating less. I'm getting nauseous often.”

“Really?” she leans in, trying to hold onto every piece of information. He scratched the back of his head, not enjoying the attention.

“Yes. It’s affecting my work.”

“Why do you feel that?” she tilts her head to her side, and it takes all of his strength not to snap at her.

“Because it is. I’m getting slower. She’s frequently on my way.”

“She?”

“My coworker. She’s the problem.”

The woman nodded, trying not to sound too relieved to finally get some advance.

“So you’re having problems with a coworker.”

“That’s what I said, yes.” he muttered, trying once again not to be rude.

“Do you feel threatened by her?”

“No.”

“Does she disrespect you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you feel angry at her?”

“I’m stressed.”

“Do you feel like getting violent towards her?”

“No, what do you think…” 

She raises a hand, interrupting him “Mr. Hotchner, I’m just trying to understand the root of the problem. I’m not her to judge you, I just need to get you diagnosed.”

He nodded, sighing loudly.

“So, you feel stressed, you don’t feel angry or violent. Can you specify the problem you’re having with her?”

“I’m having work-inappropriate problems.” he manages, his voice barely hearable.

“Mhm.” the psychiatrist hums “And she’s your subordinate?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think about being inappropriate with her?”

He keeps silent, looking everywhere but the woman before him “Yes.”

“Do you feel like using your position as her superior to get her to perform those inappropriate scenarios?”

Hotch frowns “Absolutely not. Everything we ever did was completely consensual.”

“Oh.” her eyes widened at that “So you have a relationship with your coworker. Are you having relationship problems?” “No. We’re not in a relationship, and I’m having problems.”

“You’re having problems with not being in a relationship with her?”

“No. We can’t have a relationship, that’s inappropriate.”

“So what happened between you…”

“It never happened in a work scenario.”

“It happened more than once?”

“Many times. Never in front of other people, especially at work.”

“So you have a casual relationship with her, and no one in your work knows.”

“Again, not a relationship,” he pointed out.

“Understood. So back to those problems you’re having. Trouble sleeping and eating, sometimes breathing. Do you get any other physical symptoms?”

“Sometimes trembling, heart palpitations and occasionally gastrointestinal distress.”

“And tell me, Mr. Hotchner, do any situations trigger those symptoms?”

His mind instantly flooded with images of you.

“She does.”

“She makes you feel like that? She’s causing all of those problems?”

“Exactly.”

The psychiatrist started to smile, her posture more easy going now, which didn’t sit right with Hotch.

“Do you feel stressed when she’s not around?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And nauseous when thinking about or seeing her interacting with any other men?”

“Yes.”

“Does the trouble sleeping have anything to do with you thinking about her?”

“Yes, doctor. That’s exactly what I said.” he sounded incredibly impatient.

She laughed, the sound making him want to stand up and walk out without looking back.

“Something funny?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner. Can we talk more about those feelings?”

“Doctor, with all due respect.” he started, buttoning up his suit as if he was ready to stand. “I’m not here to talk about my feelings. I’m currently under a lot of stress, which is leading to a mental disorientation and it’s causing me physical symptoms. And I came here because I need something to help me.”

“I’m afraid no medicine will help you with that, Mr. Hotchner.” and before his already blushed face could explode like a cartoon scene, the professional explained with a large smile and glistening eyes “You’re in love with her.”

[humans-are-seriously-weird]

Hey all things have been wild and i havent been on a lot

I wanted to make this post to raise some awareness for the chronic illness Ive recently been diagnosed with, in the hopes that someone suffering something similar feels less alone.

Around Christmas i started getting very very sick. I would throw up 5-6hrs of the day, and it kept me from eating or sleeping at all. For four months straight i cycled between ER rooms and hospital admissions. Ive lost over 100lbs since Christmas due to a complete inability to keep any food or water down. After dozens of tests, I finally have been diagnosed with Cyclical Vomiting Syndrome.

Its a brutal disease. Essentially it’s a stress induced illness where the autonomic nervous system that controls the stomach becomes out of sync. When my body becomes too stressed, I start getting sick. And when I am out of the stress, my stomach and abdomen dont get the memo that we are okay now. It continues to have its own mini anxiety attack, contracting and twisting and forcing me to throw up everything I have inside, and keeps going after with dry heaving. This is called an abdominal migraine, and let me tell you, it is so much worse than it sounds. Once you are in an episode, it is difficult to get out of. Once the body is stressed, the sickness stresses it more, which makes me sicker. It is a vicious cycle.

I lost my job to this disease because I missed two full months. I collapsed at work and had to be rushed to the hospital. The worst part of this disease is that it is so uncommon most hospitals dont know how to treat it. Ive been labeled a drug seeker at every hospital within 10km of my home because of how frequently I had to go to the ER, severely dehydrated and in such pain I could barely stand. I started refusing strong pain meds in favour of antispasmodics instead. ER docs and nurses blamed cannabis and told me that was my sole issue. It wasnt, though it does exacerbate the illness. Ive since stopped smoking, even though it brought me some relief, just to be taken seriously.

I am one of the lucky ones who got diagnosed quickly. Most people take years to get a diagnosis, and I got mine within 4months, though it is only because of how severe my illness was.

I am finally getting proper treatment that gives me some quality of life. I have a new job that is very understanding of how many days Ive had to take off due to flare ups and episodes. Im doing well now, but for awhile, i truly thought this disease was going to take my life. I wrote a will. I picked out a grave plot.

This isnt a sympathy post. CVS is often misdiagnosed as chronic appendicitis or GERD. The odds of someone following me who also has this disease is high, and I want to make sure they dont feel as alone and unheard in this as I have.

There is no cure for CVS, you can only try to manage it and lengthen the time between episodes. The hardest part is everyone constantly saying “but youve been doing so well”. I may be doing well now, but tomorrow is not guaranteed, the next hour is not guaranteed. My episodes come quickly and with little warning, and triggers can only be found through trial and error. I still miss a lot of work, I still wake up in the night dry heaving. If i miss a single dose of medication, i relapse. It is a brutal road, and I have been fortunate that I have a supportive partner and friends who have walked it with me.

If this sounds like you, you are not alone. Find a doctor who will listen to you, and trust your instincts. Advocate for yourself, and accept nothing less. Once, when an ER refused to see me, despite the fact that I passed out on the threshold, I started just screaming. I absolutely screamed my head off as if i had been shot. That got their attention, and they said they would treat me just to shut me up. Make a scene. It sucks that that is what I had to resort to, but they finally agreed to do an ultrasound and CT scan. It started me on the path of getting a proper diagnosis. Advocate for yourself loudly and without reserve. And if you cant, find someone who can on your behalf. When i was flitting in and out of consciousness, my partner advocated for me, and refused to let them discharge me until they got the vomiting under control, even just for a day. Be loud, be annoying, do whatever it takes.

You are not alone.

[pomefioredove]

I LOVED the stim headcanons sm! it scratched my autistic brain in a good way :333

I was wondering if you could possibly do headcanons with the rest of Diasomnia, Pomefiore, and Heartslabyul with the same premise (the stimming thing)? I can see Trey being very accommodating for the reader :3

Thank you! 🩷🩷🩷🩷

hi anon I was in therapy yesterday for the first time in a while and when I got out I realized I had been stimming the ENTIRE time

dorm leaders + jamil

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ reader who stims!

type of post: headcanons characters: ace, deuce, trey, cater, epel, rook, sebek, silver, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

now, I don't think Ace makes fun of it, but he definitely...

"you're doing that thing again,"

listen, it's not that it bothers him, or distracts him. it's not even weird!

he just... finds you really... interesting?

will say you're an "interesting critter fr bro" and leave it

Deuce is the complete opposite

he will never ever say anything about your stims

won't even ask

he just really doesn't want to be rude. he's not that guy anymore!

(you don't know how to tell him that he stims without realizing it)

he's like your knight in shining armor... kind of

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

guys I hate to say it but Cater has 100% armchair diagnosed most of the people he knows

and like... he's right... but come on!

at least he usually keeps it to himself. so when he picks up on your stimming he just... doesn't say anything

it's just another nice little tidbit of information on you :) of which he has many

for normal reasons

of course

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Trey is a sweetie, as always

but he's also a liar

he is not, in fact, "this nice to everyone"

he actually does the bare minimum he needs to do to get by

the guy is spoiling you

making sure you're fed and warm and comfortable the moment you step over the threshold

stimming is no problem

if you like the feeling of dough, or the sound of eggs cracking, he'll have you in the kitchen with him :)

he rather likes you, and your stims

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I know Rook's autistic self isn't about to say anything

but, really, he already stims. subtly, but constantly

and seeing you mirror his own behaviors...

he is smitten

as if he couldn't grow any fonder of you...

now, unless it becomes upsetting or harmful, he sees no reason to stop you. he rather likes watching your every little move

and Epel is a loyal little thing

once you're his, that's it, it's over, you could literally kill someone and he'd show up with bleach and a mop like "where's the body"

so, yeah

some humming or tapping or clicking isn't going to bother him

honestly half the time he doesn't even notice

bro is too busy fighting his sensory issues with his uniform

(the sensory issues are winning)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sebek scolds you for distracting him

he can already hardly think straight when his eyes are always drawn to you!!! >:(

now you're moving, too?!

he can't help but stare, which just upsets him more

it's not until Lilia takes your side that he calms down

the aforementioned having his own... quirks

(and much louder ones, too)

this is all background noise for Silver

is he just used to it? is he currently half-asleep and wouldn't notice if a bomb went off behind him?

who's to say!

he's passing out on your shoulder while you repeat the same word over and over either way

[the-ace-with-spades]

(sorry this got longer than I thought)

You know what fic I'd love to read?

One where Carole dies but doesn't get anything in order before her death (as is many times the case) and Mav is installed as Bradley's temporary guardian after her death but everything goes wrong very fast

Due to Mav's less than heterosexuals tendencies, Bradley ends up in the foster system. One day a social worker with a police officer just shows up and takes him away from school and he doesn't know what's going on. He ends up in his first not so good foster family the same evening. Mav can't even visit as he is deemed a bad influence and has an ongoing investigation if he is 'fit' to be Bradley's guardian.

He doesn't stop asking about Mav for months. Keeps trying to run away to him (he's about 50 miles away because foster homes are sparse so no dice) and finally his foster 'mom' is fed up with the constant asks to at least try and call Mav so she tells him Mav didn't want him and doesn't want Bradley to contact him.

And because Bradley is twelve, he believes it.

(It's not that Mav didn't try. There was a whole appeal process but Mav had a deployment right after and he couldn't explain to the social workers that no, Bradley would stay with someone trusted while he was gone, because that someone was Ice, the source of his suspected homosexual tendencies. They literally told him he's not allowed to contact Bradley and once he came back from deployment, Bradley was already in a different foster home, a few counties over and lost in the system.)

Bradley spends the rest of his childhood in the system. His first family is dubious and the following ones are a mix of constant hope and disappointment. He has at least two different families foster him every year, until he is sixteen and ends up in a group home. There are only two families that he actually comes close to calling family - a young married couple that stops fostering when the wife is diagnosed with chronic autoimmune disorder, and a couple of teachers that have to drop one of the two kids they foster when the financial requirements to foster raise and decide that Bradley is going to be that kid.

No one ever even thinks about adopting him. He's got good grades and stays on top of school, but that's about what is going well in his life. Some families he's with are average - they let him be and maybe don't care as much for anything that involves him as long it doesn't stir trouble at the fostering agency and Bradley is healthy and safe. Some families are worse - sometimes he is one of the five kids and is expected to stay and be a live-in nanny, sometimes they're only doing it for the money and he has barely anything, barely any food, barely any attention, barely any clothes, barely any school supplies, just so he doesn't cost too much. Sometimes, things get physical - it happens less, the taller he gets and by the time he starts fighting back, he has enough reputation that no one believes it and no one wants to foster him anymore. And group home it is.

By the time he's seventeen, he's enlisted. Just so he leaves the system as fast as he can. It all works out because the Navy fits the bill for his university and NROTC when the time comes - even if he's told he's not a good candidate for the USNA, even if he was told his grades and his achievements should be more than enough, even if despite the circumstances, he managed to meet the same requirements.

Finding out that it was Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell who protested his application and pulled the plug on it is Bradley's second heartbreak.

Bradley bites down any complaints he has about life and enters UVA at 21, with a military scholarship and NROTC bursary. At that point, he doesn't even know if he still wants to go into aviation, it brings so much bitterness in him. But then his grades and his overall achievement are so good, everyone says it'd be a waste if he didn't go to one of the most competitive pipelines. The Navy pays for his private pilot licence when he hesitates, and sure enough, it does feel good.

The pipeline is where he meets Jake Seresin. Jake Seresin, who has two brothers and two sisters and who has jars of homemade jam and chocolate-covered plums sent in a little package from his mom at least once a month. Jake Seresin, who uses all his leave to attend weddings, holiday parties, birthday parties, even a dog's funeral. Jake Seresin, who comes from every Thanksgiving with spare pumpkin pie, who has a new handmade Christmas sweater every year.

Jake Seresin, who, for some reason not known to Bradley, is impressed with how effortless learning to fly is for Bradley, with how much Bradley knows, with how much he leads in the lectures and the flight lessons - most guys find Bradley annoying and cold and Bradley would've agreed with them if any said it to his face. The Navy is the only good thing Bradley's had since his mom died, he has much more time to focus on being good at whatever Navy throws at him and maybe that makes him strange and aloof. But not Jake.

Jake Seresin, who is a competitive asshole that can't shut his mouth for his own good. Who has no idea of personal space, who fills the silence better than a jukebox, who will drill and drill the topic until he gets an answer he can comprehend, who doesn't care what people think of him as long as he knows his worth.

Bradley might have a bit of a crush on him, but it's an annoying crush kind of crush - one he doesn't really want to have, one he doesn't really know what to do with. Jake Seresin, who probably would never look at Bradley twice, especially in that way.

They get separate F-18 training bases and Bradley forgets for a moment Jake Seresin ever existed.

Then, summer of 2011, Jake Seresin gets restationed, right into Bradley's squadron. And he's still his annoying self, inserting himself into Bradley's private space, private time, and doesn't let Bradley have a say in it, at all.

Maybe Bradley doesn't want to have any say in it, deep down.

A few months later, DADT gets repealed. It doesn't change much for Bradley, he's not going to talk to anyone about his personal life. But it seems it changes something for Jake.

Because he asks Bradley out on a date.

Bradley's never really dated. Didn't really have the time to when he was a teenager, moved so many times, and then he enlisted, and then he was in college and NROTC. He slept with people, but he's never dated anyone.

So he gets to know Jake Seresin. Jake Seresin, who despite bringing all that food back with him any time he visits his parents, can't cook at all and who would hang onto Bradley's arm or shoulders whenever Bradley cooked. Who can sew so well that he saves all of Bradley's old shirts. Who can't keep his mouth shut, no matter the circumstances - not in the theatre, not when they eat, not when they just watch a movie at home, not even in bed. Who seems to know every single tune under the sun but can't play a single instrument. Who has elaborate, detailed plans for his life - an admiral by forty, two kids by thirty-five, a nice little house in driving distance to some body of water, a German shepherd or a border collie for a family dog once the house is there, a personal two or maybe four-person plane by the time he's forty-five, maybe co-owning aeroclub by fifty.

Bradley's never before thought about the future.

He never tells Jake even half of the things he's seen and lived through when he was in foster care, never tells him about his pulled application from USNA, never tells him about Mav. He doesn't think Jake would be able to understand, the way his family seems perfect and loving and caring. He doesn't want him to know how many things is wrong with him.

But Jake knows he's got no family, that his dad died in the Navy, his mom when he started middle school, that he's been in foster care for all his teenage years. Knows that Bradley has no one to come back home.

"Don't be a fool, sweetheart," is what Jake tells him. "You've got me."

For the first time in his life at the age of 29, Bradley requests Christmas leave.

Bradley's never had a big family, but there was a time he once had a family - or so he thought, when he was twelve and the illusion shattered - so he thought he'd be okay.

And at first, he is fine. Jake rotates him around like a prize piece, introducing him to his siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, nephews, cousins, grandparents, but it's just two or three people at once. Whenever it seems like too much, Bradley drifts away to the kitchen where he can just stay silent and listen to Jake's mom talk to the various people that come by while he slices homemade ham or he steps out onto the backyard and talks to the kids of all the ages gathered around the makeshift playground.

But then they're right before dinner starts - there are over thirty people in the open space of the house, now that everyone arrived, and Bradley feels hot, suffocating in the crowded space, in the clutter of gifts and food and colorful Christmas sweaters.

And then, before he can take any of it in, he hears Jake, saying in his typical loud and teasing tone, that Bradley can play the piano, and look at that, he could play something Christmas-y before the turkey is done, and next thing he knows, there's over thirty pairs of eyes on him and plenty of people asking questions and making teasing remarks and it all seems so tricky--

He can't imagine himself, in that room, with all those people, feeling comfortable. So he walks out.

Bradley doesn't know how to be a part of a family. There's no reason to try and lie to himself and everyone else.

They don't see each other for years after. The next time they do, it's only the eight weeks at Top Gun. The Jake that Bradley knew isn't there - this Jake is bitter and sarcastic and sharp with his tongue. This Jake wins Top Gun and never looks back at Bradley when he returns to his station base.

The next time they see each other is at the Top Gun recall when Bradley is going through a life roller coaster.

Not only is Jake being the biggest ass not just to him but to everyone, for the first time in twenty years, Bradley sees Mav. Sure, maybe he's not moved on from Jake - he still remains the only person Bradley ever dated - but he's managed to dodge Maverick, and Iceman by association, in all those years he's been in the Navy and now he's forced to pretend all is fine.

And Maverick doesn't make it easier.

He tries to approach Bradley like they're long-lost friends, saying all those things about how he missed him and how Bradley looks so much like his dad. Like he didn't leave him in the foster system when he was a kid and didn't fuck up his application for USNA.

So he pretends he doesn't remember Maverick because that's the easiest given that Maverick is supposed to train him.

On top of that, Jake mixes himself up into Bradley's shit life situation when he overhears Mav trying to get Bradley to 'remember' and 'renew their relationship' and keeps pestering Bradley. Maybe he can tell you more about your childhood, why the hell are you so rude to him, he wouldn't make up knowing you, you know, maybe he's got some of your parents' stuff and can share---

And hearing the love of his life that he let get away because Bradley didn't know how to be part of his family side with the first person that told Bradley he's not enough to be someone's family - well, it's not exactly helping the state of Bradley'e mental being.

So maybe he explodes at Jake, a little bit, in the end. You want to talk to the man who left me behind when I was twelve and the only time he looked back was to tell me he didn't think I was good enough? Then so be fucking it.

Instead of butting into Bradley's life, Jake shuts up and starts avoiding him. Bradley supposes he has what he wanted.

Bradley doesn't care what Maverick thinks or if he changed or if he wants something from Bradley.

He still turns around when he's shot down. It's not like he's got someone to come back to anyway. Not because he cares about Maverick.

"I'm not you," Bradley tells Mav. "I don't leave people behind."

The admittance - that he knows and remembers Mav and wants nothing to do with him, wants to be nothing like him - works. They survive and Bradley doesn't see Maverick again, not when they're in the med bay, not when they're in the hospital in San Diego, not when he gets discharged.

He sees Jake instead, waiting on him at the reception of the unit he had been on, patiently waiting for Bradley to sign his discharge papers without using his broken wrist.

"What, do you have someone else to take your broken ass home?"

In truth, Bradley was just going to take a taxi. Instead, Jake takes the plastic bag with Bradley's clothes and silently leads them to his truck before he asks for Bradley's address.

And in all this mess, the first thing Jake asks him is, "Are you going to stay in San Diego?" because they have the offer to stay there and make their place in Top Gun-adjacent brand new squadron.

"No, I'm going to go back to my base," Bradley tells him. There's nothing for him San Diego, but there's plenty for Jake and he doesn't want to be a barrier.

"I think you should stay in San Diego. With me."

He wishes it was that simple but the truth is, Bradley is still the same.

"I can't be the person you want to have in your life."

"But you already are the person I want in my life."

"I think this is going to end up badly."

"Only if you let it."

Bradley's never really could say no to Jake.

It all seems so easy, when he falls asleep on Jake's shoulder watching Top Gear, but at some point, Bradley knows, they will get to the point when it'll all crush again.

There is also the whole thing with Maverick, their now CO, who appears to be some kind of ashamed now that he finally knows that Bradley remembers what he did - or rather what he didn't do. He avoids Bradley like the plague and it seems to be affecting the squad - because they all love Maverick and Bradley is the weirdo who can't have fun or be friendly. He's just waiting on someone to call him out as the party pooper contrasting to their fun CO and deem the problem, as always, just because he can't pretend to be happy to be around him.

Jake hasn't said anything about the Maverick thing explicitly but he gives Bradley those looks whenever Maverick is nearby and sometimes he makes those quips

[16wolke11]

psychologist reader x piastri or yuki

reader started noticing the more she knows the driver, more she falls in love, and worse: her professional life is in game.

In Between - Yuki Tsunoda

A/N Dear Anon, I love this idea! And maybe I got carried away a bit with it. I decided to write it with Yuki, because I barely wrote about him before (:

I am not an expert when it comes to psychology, but this is what I came up with^^

WORDS: 3473

_____

“So, we want you to start with Yuki today,” Laurent tells me, and I nod, obviously knowing that he is one of the drivers, not going totally uninformed into my first official work day. And it kind of makes sense that they want me to start working with the drivers immediately, considering that they might be under the most stress from all the people in the team, at least the one with the most public attention. 

“Okay, what do you want me to talk about with him? Is there any specific reason why you want him to see me as a therapist? Or just for his mental strength as a racer?” I ask for clarification, like to have a rough idea of where the session might lead. With usual clients, there is always a bit of information, sometimes not much, sometimes people with confirmed diagnoses who switch therapists, but always something to give me a starting point. 

“Yuki has some problems with his anger management. He got better, but we want to help him as best as possible.” Laurent explains and I nod. Being in the public eye and having a short temper isn’t the best mix, but I am sure we will find a solution for it. Well, if Yuki is willing to work with me on it. There are always people who don’t believe in therapy, giving me and other therapists a hard time trying to do our job. 

“Any specific situations when he is stepping over the line?” I tilt my head to the side, already making my mental notes for Yuki, before I write them down later. Keeping as much information about him as possible to help him as best as I can. 

Laurent sighs before answering. “Things that go wrong on track, things not going like they should, issues in the team. Anything you can name that might frustrate anyone, but he usually snaps.” I see the problem and why they want someone to work with Yuki on this matter. We reach the room that will be mine from now on and I smile at Laurent, thanking him for bringing me here. 

“Yuki should be in there already.” Laurent informs me and I thank him again, glad I don’t have to fetch the driver from somewhere. I take a deep breath before casually entering my room. Yuki is already seated in one of the lounge chairs, looking around like he wants to be anywhere but here at the moment. 

“Good morning Yuki.” I speak up with a friendly voice, turning his attention to me. Yuki looks at me for a moment, narrowing his eyes, before looking away again. Eyes finding the window to look outside so that I wouldn't see his face. 

“I am not mentally ill.” Yuki huffs and I already know that it will be a challenge to work with him, but I don’t let my mood be affected by this, acting professional as I learned to be. 

“Why do you think I believe this?” I ask him, trying to figure out why he is so much against a session with a therapist. And mostly, why he believes seeing someone like me means he is mentally ill. 

“You are a psychologist. Aren't you supposed to treat people who are a little ill in their mind?” Yuki asks me, before huffing again. “Hmpf, that sounded wrong.” His arms are crossed in front of his chest and I settle down in the lounge chair on the opposite side of him. Facing him while he is still staring out of the window. 

“I am not just here for those who might be struggling mentally, but also for other things.” I gently explain and Yuki’s head snaps around to finally face me. Eyes unsure, but still curious about everything. 

“And why am I here?” He asks, voice barely loud enough for me to hear and I can see so many emotions bubbling over his face, while I decide to be just honest with him. 

“Some people are worried about your anger management.” I am not here to lie to him and he deserves the honesty about why his team wants to see me. His expressions harden, and I can already see the first signs of anger taking over his body. 

“But when something stupid happens, I need to express it.” Yuki tells me, hands gesturing around and I slowly nod. Expressing is one thing, but yelling at the people around you is a different thing. He might be right about not stuffing his emotions inside of him and letting them out, but his approach isn’t quite the right strategy. 

“Maybe, but you could just talk instead of yelling at them.” I suggest testing out the waters with him, trying to figure out what kind of therapy approach might be best for him. 

“I am angry and when I am angry, I want to yell.” Yuki tells me, voice already a pitch louder and I lean back, acting unfazed by his rising anger, while making mental notes about him. 

“Okay, so how about you try to store the anger until you are in a less public space? Getting into boxing or something similar might help you to blow off some steam afterwards.” I give him an idea for an outlet. Something to do with sports and something to get all his anger out. Seeing that boxing helps with frustration and anger, without hurting anyone in any way. 

“I am small, I don’t have much space to store the anger anywhere.” Yuki huffs, not looking impressed by my suggestion, before adding. “It just bubbles over when it comes.” I am glad he is at least explaining his feelings a bit and not just straight up leaves, yells at me or tells me he doesn’t believe in going to therapy at all. 

“I am not that tall either, Yuki and still, I don’t yell at the people around me.” I smile at him while mentioning my height. This might have been a logical explanation for him, less body, less space to store emotions, but luckily, this isn’t how this works. 

“Yeah, because you are that perfect psychologist and probably surround yourself with calmness.” He waves his hand around and I get that he isn’t fond of psychologists. Time for a different approach. 

“Okay, I think we can't get a solution right now, what if we talk about something else?” I suggest getting him off guard. If he doesn’t want to talk about his anger right now, that’s okay with me. This is only the first session and therapy is no miracle work done with just one meeting. 

“You are supposed to help me with my anger issues?” Yuki questions me and I shrug my shoulders. 

“And? They don’t need to know what we talk about, they just want to feel like we are working on it.” I explain, staying calm, because there is no need to rush this. We have all the time in the world to go to the root of this problem and I feel confident that one day we will be able to make his anger management better. 

“And I won't get in trouble?” Yuki asks, hesitating like he is scared that I will report everything to Laurent and that he will be scolded for not working properly with his therapist. 

“Of course not! The things we are talking about are kept in this room, except if you are going to be a danger to yourself or others. In this case, I might have to inform someone.” I promise him and Yuki tilts his head to the side, probably thinking about whether he can trust me or not. 

“That's okay, I guess.” He then decides and we talk. Nonsense, things about each other, getting to know the new coworker for a bit, until our time is up. I remind Yuki about his next appointment and he even gives me a tight smile when saying goodbye. He will be a hard client, but nothing I can't handle. We will be making progress sooner or later and I look forward to working more with Yuki.

I settle in pretty quickly with the team. Have one-on-one sessions with some of the staff, hold a group session for the mechanics and even get to talk with Isack, the second diver of the team, about his mental struggle of being enough for F1. He is a sweet boy, easy to talk to and is open to every suggestion I make. Isack might be too hard on himself, but he is willing to work on it and this is what matters for me. 

Today I have my second therapy session with Yuki. I watched him over the last days, tried to get a look into his days, how he behaves, what might stress him and what helps him to calm down. All things that will help me to work with him more easily. I still get that he isn’t so fond of the thought of going to therapy, but we will find a way to work through this together. 

I wait for him in my room, scribbling down some notes from my last session with one of the race engineers. It knocks on the door and I ask him to step in, smiling softly at Yuki, who holds two plates in his hands. I raise my eyebrow, ready to ask, when Yuki does speak up. 

“Hungry?” He asks me, holding out one of the plates, which is scattered with different foods from the hospitality. I look at him, before glancing back at the plate again. 

“You brought food to bribe yourself out of your session?” I ask him with a grin, taking the plate from him to inspect it further. 

“No, but food makes everything better.” Yuki states, drawing a laugh over my lips. I still think that he tries to shorten the session by bringing some food, but I don’t mind as long as he talks to me during it. 

“Most things.” I accept his explanation and we dig into the food, just chatting casually about it, when Yuki suddenly looks up from his plate, looking more nervous than ever. 

“Soo, I thought about that anger management thing.” He speaks up and on the inside, I am cheering that he is the one approaching the topic again. 

“Yes?” I say, trying to show him that I am listening, but at the same time not wanting him to back out of the conversation again. 

“You mentioned boxing, but what about when I am in the car? I can't just hop out, punch something and go back to driving.” Yuki huffs, hands gesturing and as entertaining as his imagined scenario might be, he is right. 

“What do I do in that situation?” Yuki adds and I am more than glad that he is interested in working on his anger management. 

“There are techniques to keep your emotions calm. We can go through a few and find out which one is right for you.” I suggested to him and Yuki looks at me with a blank expression, making me ad, “If you are up for it?” If he wants to, we can go through the different techniques, test which one might be the best for him and help him to stay calm even under harsh situations. Yuki is silent for a moment before sitting up straighter, looking confident.

“Let's do this.”

Over the next weeks, we work on different techniques to make Yuki able to hold back his anger better. I spoke with his trainer to incorporate some boxing into his training so that Yuki is able to blow of all the steam he has managed to hold back by now. And it works, most of the time. Of course, there are still situations where deep breathing, counting things, or any other strategy doesn’t work, but Laurent did thank me for my work so far, because Yuki snaps far less than before. 

But working so closely with Yuki also comes with issues for me. Instead of being able to keep him at a distance, talk with him professional I grew to like him more and more. Get to know him better, and I try my best to stay professional, hoping that little crush will fade, but it is getting harder and harder the more I know about him. 

His obvious love for food and that one day he wants to open up his restaurant. That he usually plays video games during race weekends in the evening to calm down. His training consists a lot of cycling, which he enjoys and that in the winter break, he likes to hit the snowy tracks with a snowboard. And of course, he mentions his love for the actor Jason Statham more than once. 

While  I manage to stay at a distance, Yuki seems to struggle with not coming closer to me. His hands brushing over my back when he walks by, him bringing me food when he thinks I might be hungry and he always smiles widely when he spots me anywhere. This doesn’t help with my fluttering heart, but I am deemed to stay professional, not wanting to lose my job here. The crush will go by, it has to. 

But then, during one session Yuki grabs my hand and I freeze. Head stops working and it takes me a few seconds before I slowly pull my hand out of his. “I can't do this Yuki.” I mutter, but trying to sound strong. This is what I feared, him overstepping the line, confirming that this crush isn’t a one-sided thing. 

“Why not?” Yuki huffs, eyes narrowing and I feel a bit of anger bubbling up inside of me. 

“Because my reputation is on the line, my whole career.” I speak up, hands gesturing more than usual and as good as I might be at covering up my emotions, at this moment I just can't. 

“If someone just thinks I am involved romantically with a client, I am out.” I explain to him, hoping he will understand and even add some more, “And not just out of this job, but forever. I will lose my license.” I would no longer be allowed to practise as a therapist, all the hard years of working would be damaged, destroyed beyond repair and I can't risk that. 

“There has to be a solution for this.” Yuki says, voice desperate and I hate to break his heart like this. Our relationship will not be the same and I am not sure if we will even be able to work together after this. 

“I am not sure there will be.” I mumble, hoping that he will understand, but Yuki shakes his head and stands up. 

“I will find one.” He promises, before disappearing, leaving me with an aching heart. 

Two weeks go by and Yuki and I do our therapy sessions as usual, not speaking one word about him grabbing my hand, us having feelings and his trying to find a solution. It feels like it never happened and I am not sure if I like it. I even thought of resigning with the RacingBulls to eliminate the issue, but apart from the situation with Yuki, I love working for the team. Right now, I just want to leave the track, drench myself in the bathtub and sleep for a bit, but a voice calls me back.  

“Wait a minute.” Isack comes jogging over to me and I offer him a smile, liking the young driver from the beginning. „You look tired.” Isack says, tilting his head and I huff softly. 

“Had a long day. Happy to head to the hotel now.” I tell him, the day was really long. Having group sessions with both mechanic groups, squeezing in some one-on-one sessions and I am beyond tired at this point. 

“Ah, sorry to stop you from that, but Laurent said he wanted to have a word with you.” Isack looks genuinely sorry and I tense up at his words. 

“Did he say about what?” I ask, attempting to keep my voice calm while Isack merely shrugs. 

“No, but I saw Yuki slip into his office.” My heart stops at this sentence, but I try to keep my face relaxed. 

“Thank you, Isack.” I say before slowly making my way over to Laurent's office. Hoping it wouldn’t be the last time I enter the hospitality and that today wasn’t my last day working as a therapist. 

I take a deep breath before I knock on the door, not ready for the situation but having to face it. 

“Come in.” Laurent's voice is dampened by the door and I slowly open it. Yuki and him sit at the table, both seem to be relaxed and I try to sense if they really are.

“Hi, Isack said you wanted to talk with me.” I speak up, sounding neutral and Laurent just nods, before gesturing to one of the chairs. 

“Yeah, have a seat.” I sit down and then I wait, heart pounding in my chest. 

“So Yuki came to me telling me a few things about your sessions.” That's it, I am done “Oh…” I just mutter, eyes flickering to Yuki, who looks way too relaxed for my liking. 

“And that you two came closer to each other.” Before Laurent speaks any more, I speak up. 

“I swear nothing inappropriate happened and if you need me to, I will resign immediately.” I stutter, panic rising in my chest. How could Yuki do this? Reporting me to the boss when he was the one who overstepped the line first? 

“Please don’t panic.” Laurent's voice is calm and I try to stop my heart from beating its way out of my chest. 

“We talked about solutions and one of them will be hiring a second psychologist, splitting the work between you two.” I do calm down a bit, but still frown at his words. 

“This still leaves the issue with Yuki being my client.” Even if there is a second therapist, Yuki is still one of my clients, leaving us with the issue of me not being allowed to date my client. 

“Well, technically, RacingBulls is your client.” Laurent says and then there is silence. My head ringing, trying to figure out what that means and this is what I express. 

“I don’t understand.”

“This is a loophole and I already checked it with the lawyers.” Laurent explains, and I feel the calmness seeping over me. “Yuki wasn’t your client, but the RacingBulls are. So there is no conflict with you having a few sessions with him, but obviously, we would prefer Yuki going to our second psychologist from now on.” This. Is. Perfect? Having the group as a client and not just every individual of them is the solution, and when Laurent already checked it with the lawyers, it seems too good to be true. 

“I don’t know what to say.” I mutter, eyes flickering between Laurent and Yuki, who watches me with caution in his eyes. He was probably scared of my reaction, but I am just too overwhelmed to say anything.

“You don’t have to say anything; you just need to know that everything is fine and you can go on dates or whatever you want to.” Laurent has a grin on his lips, as if watching people fall in love is his greatest pleasure. 

“Thank you.” I whisper before leaving the office, closely followed by Yuki. He stays by my side, doesn’t say a word while I try to sort my thoughts. 

“Are you mad at me?” Yuki hesitantly speaks up and I glance at him, seeing an expression I have rarely seen on him before. Uncertainty. 

“Not sure yet.” I mutter, my eyes returning to the ground. How am I supposed to be fully angry with him when he did find a solution to our issue? Still, this whole situation could have gone terribly wrong. 

“I said I would find a solution and I did.” Yuki states and he is right, still he needs to understand that just because it worked, it wasn’t the ideal solution. 

“Yeah, but what would have happened if Laurent hadn’t taken it well, if there was a loophole or anything else we could do? That would have been my downfall.” I ask him, highlighting the things that could have occurred, before huffing, “You should have talked with me first and we could have made that decision together.” Yuki blinks, once, then again, before tilting his head slightly to the side. 

“I am sorry then?” He asks and I hesitate for a moment, before a relieved laugh slips over my lips. Before he can even react, I fling my arms around his neck, leaning my head against his and whispering.

“Thank you.“

[electronicnutcycle]

Double Penetration - Day 3 - tommy lee x Nikki Sixx

Description: Your boyfriend Nikki and his band finally come back from tour . Nikki and Tommy are really horny . That where you come in.

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x TommyLee x reader.

Warnings: Double penetration, a little bit of overstimulation and think that’s all ( but lmk if I missed something).

Being a girlfriend to a rockstar can have both its pros and cons . Some of the pros being having amazing sex with him and his fellow band mate who you also found hot . It was dark out and way past 12 , your boyfriend Nikki and his band had just gotten home from tour and both Nikki and Tommy were full of sexual frustration, Which is where you come in also needy and horny . Your boyfriend Nikki had bragged to Tommy all tour on how good you were in bed and how tight you were , which you didn't mind cause you also thought Tommy was extremely hot. Which leads to right now , on your hands and knees while your mouth and cunt are being abused .

It felt like hours went by as multiple orgasms rippled through your stomach and how many orgasms have leaked into your sopping wet cunt or you have to swallow , you don’t know . Cause by the time another orgasm rippled through you you were barely able to keep yourself up and you were basically a mess with mascara running down your face and a mixture of both the boys cum and saliva running down you chin . “Look at the lil slut , a absolute mess” Nikki spat out while examining your abused and used body “ watcha think Tom , wanna go for another round?” “Whew absolutely, I think can use another round” Tommy said before picking you up like you were nothing and putting you on his lap . As Tommy slowly inched his cock into your already overstimulated and sopping wet hole , for a few seconds Tommy stopped but before you could realize why it was so calm you felt Nikki's cock enter the already preoccupied hole and before you could get the chance the make a sound Nikki already had some of his fingers in your mouth to muffle your screams. After you had gotten used to the two of them in your tight hole you made a noise to let go and as they both started to go in and out . At first slowly to not overwhelm you , but at time went on there was nothing you could do to stop Tommy and Nikki's brutal pace. Whilst they continued to abuse your poor cunt , you started to feel a familiar feeling in your stomach , the familiar feeling of a tight rope in your abdomen. Just as the tight rope snapped , your legs started to shake and as your sight went white , you pass out . When you awoke again you had been cleaned up and had a fresh pair of clothes on while been snuggled up between to two men like you were before.

A/N: Heyy guys! , I hope you enjoy this story . So sorry it came out so late I got diagnosed with pneumonia and spent the last few days/weeks in hospital trying to figure out what it was . Luckily they found out , I’m currently taking meds and starting to feel so much better!. I hope everyone reading has a good kinktober/October.

[autistichalfblood]

🩷🖤Unfathomable🩷🖤

On March 8th 2023 I got a job as a public school English teacher and I couldn't do anything else, I barely even had time to sleep.

On April 29th 2024 I had to quit that job because I was having way too many anxiety and panic attacks and my health (physical and mental) was declining. I am a diagnosed autistic person who just couldn't handle it anymore, I was teaching 16 different classes, working 9 hours every day, the only English Teacher for over 500 students.

I'm now trying to find my balance again, looking for the safety of my special interests, one of them being Wenclair, hence why I'm back writing my fanfic Unfathomable.

I am rereading what I have already written and doing some small updates (mostly sentence structure and stuff like that) and after I finish up with what is already posted, I will go back to writing that!

It might not be updated in consistent, quick manner when I go back at it, because I need to avoid too much pressure and stress but I'm so fond of this pairing, they keep me company when I'm lonely because I have no friends and no one to talk to, and they actually teach me some things and help me understand others.

I would love to ask any tumblr mates, wednesday/wenclair fans or otherwise, to check my fic out and let me know how I can improve my writing (you can comment there on my fic), I honestly think that interacting with other human beings in a classroom is too much for me and writing has always been my love, so I'm gonna follow that path now.

Fanfic: Unfathomable

Pairing: (Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair)

TV SHOW: Wednesday (Netflix)

Link: Click here to be transported to AO3.

---

UPDATE:

Chapters 1 & 2 were already fully checked, edited and updated.

Chapter 3 is OUT NOW!!!!

Stats:

1 kudo away from 2150!

479 hits away from 17,000 (woow!)

20 comments away from 100!

[askviktor]

Hey, Viktor.

Writing to a fictional character is something I’ve never done (except letters to Santa lol), but I regret nothing, and have little shame about it although I’m 32. The brainrot about you guys is just overwhelming, and if so many people think about you and @jaycehousetalis - you’re as good as real. At least energy (spiritually?)-wise.

It’s been a hard period for me I guess, as here I am. I’m lost. I do not believe I am capable of fixing my life myself, and this is a dangerous concept because it lets me wait and hope and continue being infantile. I feel my body becoming weaker, although I don’t have any serious diseases. Living in the world is just uncomfortable. Any steps I need to take to amend my life simply seem too much. I am tired. So so tired all the time. Although there seem to be no real reason for it. I probably have an anxiety disorder but I am not diagnosed and don’t have enough money for therapy. Or maybe I just convince myself to not do anything about it. Future prospects seem very vague and unjoyful, like there is no sense in living like this but doing something takes too much strength that I don’t have. It always feels like pushing through. But I don’t want to push. I want to relax and enjoy. But I can’t. I’m not doing merely enough obviously. Nothing brings me joy, or if something does then it’s not for long.

I’m sorry about this angsty outburst, and for using this page as a free therapeutic session but it helped me to put feelings into words at least. You don’t have to answer it, you’ve already helped by creating this page. I just wish I could be more you because you are so driven, it’s beautiful. As for being slavic, thin and always researching - that I already am. It’s just that my research is futile. At least for now.

Cheers to you, you make all the folks in the Undercity proud - you really are a tough one.

My friend, you have laid bare your thoughts with a clarity most are too afraid to approach, let alone express. This tells me you are far stronger than you realize. We are so often taught to measure strength by productivity, ambition, results — but I have found that true strength can be found in simply refusal to vanish, an insistence on existence. These days, especially, I feel like my body is at war with my own mind, a machine rusting despite use, and wonder whether everything I have built will crumble into irrelevance. Yet I persist.

Not because I am always a driven man, but because it is either that, or nothing. And nothing… what is worse than oblivion? Oblivion is an end to all good as well. Perhaps I am simply afraid of stopping. Afraid of what I will become if I do. And so I keep going.

I hear you when you say you do not want to push anymore. That you just want to rest and feel joy. There is nothing childish about that. It is perhaps the most honest desire in the world, the very root of invention, in fact, to feel ease, to feel peace. But the world, this world, was not built to offer peace freely. Sometimes we must carve out small spaces of it ourselves.

You are not infantile for hoping someone or something outside yourself will save you. Hoping is human. But be careful that hope does not become waiting, for waiting can become stagnation, a slow erosion of will. Sometimes you must trick yourself into motion — not because you are sure, not because you are ready, but simply because you must. Even a single step can be defiance. Brush your teeth. Make tea. Read a page. Stand up. Sit down again. Breathe. These are the gears that slowly start to turn a greater machine.

Your research is not futile. It may not change the world — not yet — but it is not pointless. Curiosity is its own quiet rebellion against despair.

It seems you are already more like me than you know. But you are also more you, and that is a person I am proud to have received a message from. Connection is not indulgence. It is lifeblood. Feel free to reach out anytime.

And for what it is worth, Zaun is proud of you too.

[bekkathyst]

I have a bunch of different thoughts and memories I want to write out, but it may not be for you. I touch on some heavy topics in this post, so just giving a warning. This is more personal than anything.

I’ve been undertaking the project of organizing my jewelry-making crystal stash for the first time ever and it’s hitting me that I’ve collected tens of thousands of dollars of these gems over the last 12 or so years of owning my shop. It really gives me hope that I can rebuild my business up to the level it used to be. Or maybe even higher.

Up until we moved to Austria, hard years in my life were hard because of abuse, trauma, horrific things going on in my family or otherwise. Things I almost never spoke aloud. But last year was hard in a different way. It felt as if the cumulative damage of two decades of shouldering more than I could actually bear and taking care of way too many people finally caught up with me. It felt like the stress of moving continents pushed me over the edge.

I may have talked about it briefly, but sometime around late 2019 I started trying really hard to take good care of myself and I got into eating healthy and hiking. It helped me so much, and in 2021 I was in the best shape of my life and felt the best I’d ever felt. But after we moved here in 2022, something happened. That winter after, it was like my whole body fell apart at once and the health I had worked so hard to maintain just slipped away. I lost so much time to feeling so unwell I could barely make myself leave my house. I was constantly sick and miserable and it made my mental health slip, too.

I lost a lot of work. I couldn’t make myself focus and then of course this plus the plummeting economy caused a big hit in my business. This all came together to make 2024 the worst year my shop has had since it really started to take off in 2017 or so.

I started 2024 by falling down the stairs and giving myself a knee injury that took months to heal, and then later in the year I was hospitalized twice and diagnosed with a couple chronic conditions. I poured the rest of our savings into the shop to keep it afloat, and so I could allow myself to figure out my health and rest.

I’m so grateful I could heal, but now I’m facing all the consequences of those choices. I’m realizing if I don’t act fast and pull everything together, not only will I lose my business, but we’re going to have problems with immigration next month when Antonio goes to reapply for his residency permit. We have a month left to rebuild our savings and in order to do that, we have debt from last year to pay off. Right now we’re just barely staying afloat as it is.

But I keep envisioning the future. I can see a future where we catch up, flourish, and open a physical shop so we don’t have to rely on the ever changing algorithms that want to see small businesses perish. I can see a future where I can focus on my art and prosper. Where I continue to improve my health and refine my skills and learn and grow. And most importantly, a future in which we can give our daughter all she needs without a second thought. Maybe I’m delusional, but just 10 years ago I had similar delusional thoughts about moving back to Austria one day.

[scribbledghost]

Hi!! okay so this may be kind of a weird ask and im not very good at english-ing despite it being the literal only language i speak so bare with me here.

ive been obsessing over your inhuman!polyvessel headcanons and i was kind of wondering, how do you think the vessels would deal with a partner with ocd? like actual ocd, not the whole perfectionism shabang and more like someone who struggles with paranoia or intrusive thoughts. (especially considering thier whole telepathy thing)

i know this is kind of a heavier topic, so if your not comfortable writing something like this i'd totally understand.

sooooo full disclosure here: I also have OCD! Diagnosed, meds, therapy, the works. It sucks. I hate it. But all this is to say this ask isn't too heavy at all, and I'm more than happy to give my insight on it. I'm gonna try to make this as vague as possible with regards to the compulsions/intrusive thoughts, just because there are so many different kinds of OCD that I don't want to pin it to just one subtype.

I like to think all of the vessels would be very gentle with you on this. They'll notice some things here and there, like repetitive behaviors, constantly checking on things, etc. But when it really hits them is when Vessel starts to explain to you about the mental connection they all share (and the fact that they can peek into your mind) and those intrusive thoughts come screaming in like a freight train. He doesn't have to look into your mind to see how distressed you are about the idea, and he makes quick work of reassuring you that it's not something they're constantly tuned-in to. Sure, they can usually sense vague feelings, but they can only hear your specific thoughts if they intentionally try to. But the damage is done, and Vessel (plus the others after a while) spends the better part of an hour struggling to help you calm down. Once they help you through that particular episode, they'll probably sort of sit down with you and try to ask you, essentially, "what the fuck was that".

Almost immediately after you explain what's going on and what OCD is, II's off to the library to see what he can dig up about it. Particularly what sorts of things helps with it, what kinds of things make it worse, and maybe what he can do to help. Sleep is already manifesting a few journals and studies for him while he's on his way. The others stick around to talk to more about it, as they want to get an idea about your specific experiences with it. I think quick deal is also made here: none of them will ever tiptoe into your thoughts unless they ask you first. It may not help the paranoia as much as they'd like, since they can still sense feelings, but it's the most they can offer: a genuine promise to respect those boundaries.

To say it'll take some getting used to and some trial-and-error is a bit of an understatement. They have the absolute best intentions, but we all know that doesn't mean things won't go sideways sometimes. They may interrupt your compulsions at first, thinking they're helping you to stop doing them but as a result they just make you more frantic and upset. Or they might endlessly reassure you any time you ask, completely unaware that they're essentially playing into your compulsions and making them worse.

Over time, however, a smoother routine develops as they all become more aware of your OCD and the ins and outs of it. Any sort of help they can offer, they'll gladly do so. They want to know how they can best come to your aid the next time the urge to do those behaviors presents itself. They'll stay by your side, and help you no matter what, all you need to do is talk to them and tell them what you need.

Sometimes what you need is help slowing down the compulsions or help doing them less. I think II is best here, as he can be more firm and would be a better guiding hand to hold you accountable. Did you decide beforehand to only do your compulsion [x] amount of times? He'll keep count, then gently work with you to steer you away when you hit that limit.

Sometimes what you need is to be left alone to do them, then offered comfort and care afterwards. I think this is more IV's place, where he can simply stand by, keep an eye on you to make sure you don't cross the line into being dangerous to yourself, then making sure you're taken care of when you start to come down.

Sometimes what you need is a soft, quiet presence while you resist doing the compulsions at all, just sitting with your anxiety and waiting for it to dissipate naturally without the help of those behaviors. Vessel is good at this; he won't say a word unless you indicate you want conversation. He's more than happy to simply sit nearby or hold you through your fear, making sure you're not doing this alone.

I think III can be a bit of a wild card, and can flip between being good at helping you slow down your compulsions and sticking close by when you resist doing them completely. I think he'd struggle sitting idly by and letting you run the course of them, just because he'd want to pull you away or interrupt you in some manner.

Overall, I think they also try to keep things as normal as possible without making you feel abandoned or alone. They don't want to center everything around your OCD and constantly remind you of it, but they don't want you to think they don't care about your struggles with it either. Above all, they want you to feel safe with them. They want you to feel secure, and they want you to know they've got you.

[thescarletnargacuga]

If i may make a suggestion, human AU sickfic, maybe?

A/N: poor hoomans

THE FLU

A HUMAN AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none

~~~

Pomni coughed into her millionth tissue. She'd been diagnosed with influenza, and nearly bedridden all week. Her throat burned with fury of a California wildfire while she could barely breathe through her runny nose. She ran a fever off and on, causing body wide aches and fatigue. She barely ate anything out of lack of appetite, not helping her energy levels.

Thankfully, she had a TV in her room and her phone so she had all the entertainment in the world at her fingertips. She binged show after show while she struggled to sleep.

Caine insisted she have the master bedroom to herself while sick. He wasn't worried about exposure, but her coughing was keeping him up at night with worry so he slept on the couch in the living room so he could get sleep and go to work. He texted her often about how she was doing, did she need anything while he was out, telling her when he would be home, etc.

Bubble could sense that his human was not okay and would spend the entire day chilling with her in bed. It's the calmest he's ever been. When he wasn't chewing on his toy, he was cuddling with Pomni and getting so many pets. It was the best.

Pomni laid against her high wedge pillow, watching her shows when Caine came in. He was still in his work suit, carrying some tea and a large shopping bag. "Hello, my dear. Did you get much rest today?"

"Meh...kind of." Pomni grumbled, her voice was rough from all the coughing. "Bubble and I have been binging Bridgerton. Have you seen it? It's pretty good."

"Heard of it, but haven't seen it myself." Caine set the hot cup of tea on the nightstand next to Pomni, shuffling a few pill bottles and cough drops out of the way. "Made you some chamomile tea. I added that vitamin C powder we got from the pharmacy, help your immune system a bit."

"Thank you." Pomni smiled through the fatigue. "What's in the bag?"

"I bought you a few things." He pulled out a big box of tissues. "You've been going through these by the box, so I got the biggest one they sold."

Pomni almost laughed. "Only one?"

"Nope. There are sixteen more in the hallway closet."

"I stand corrected."

"I also got," Caine pulled out another big box. "This jumbo pack of snack cakes. Apple cinnamon, your favorite."

"Aw, Caine, thank-"

"BUT WAIT! There's more! I got this really nice smelling massage oil. I can rub out those sore spots for you, if you'll let me." He winked.

Pomni laughed, coughing a little. "Only if you promise to just give me a back rub. I don't have the energy for hanky panky."

"Promise, love. Oh!" He set the bottle of oil in Pomni's lap with the snack box. "I also found this mini gator plush! Look at 'im!" He put a hand sized sitting gator plush in Pomni's lap.

She cooed over the little gator. "Oh my god, he's so cute!"

"Smell him! He's scented! Pineapple and Lime, I believe." Caine double checked the tag.

"Caine... I don't have a sense of smell right now."

"Oh yeah, well you can smell them later, because I have something else for you!"

"How many things do you have in that magician's bag of yours??" She was smiling more than she had all week. He was being silly for her sake and she loved him for it.

"Just one more thing." Caine searched the bag but I was empty. "Huh...that's strange. Where did I put it?" He felt his various suit pockets.

"What did you lose?"

"Oh wait, silly me. It wouldn't fit in the bag."

Pomni's eyes widened. "Caine...what did you buy?"

"It doesn't have a price tag." He gave Pomni a cheeky smile and kissed her forehead. "It's all my love for you."

"You're such a dork. I love you." She hugged him.

"I love you more. More and more each day." He kissed the top of her head. "I'm gonna need you to get better soon. I miss kissing those lips of yours."

"I'm working on it. Flu season is rough this year. Wanna watch Bridgerton with me?"

"Absolutely." Caine started changing into more casual clothes.

Pomni caught Bubble trying to sneak a bite at her new Gummy Gator plush. She snatched it away. "No! Destroy your own toys. This one's mine."

Bubble whined and begged for the plush, despite the fact that his own toy was literally right next to him. Pomni distracted him with belly rubs and he forgot all about the new plush.

After Caine was changed and grabbed his own drink, he joined Pomni on the bed and settled to watch TV. He held her close with an arm over her shoulders. She leaned on him but had to blow her nose often to not drip nose goo on him.

Despite Pomni being sick, being with her and relaxing after a long day was the best thing in the world to Caine.

[vercopaanir]

Hew-wee.

Honestly, I barely remember how to work Tumblr. I fear my posts will look like GARBAGE, but we'll see if I can get back into it.

I don't want to bore anyone with mindless chatter. Life has been landing haymakers for the past...two years? What is TIME. New job, a surgery, lost 95 pounds, a parent was diagnosed with cancer, same parent finished treatment, a wind storm tore our house up in August and we just got it renovated last week, endless cycles of clinical depressive episodes - honestly this year has been kind of a blur. But the whole time, I'm still hanging on to TLM. 🥹✊🏻

I don't want to make promises or give anyone some kind of timeline. I've broken so many of those to y'all and to myself. That being said, with the announcement of the movie, I'm feeling a renewed encouragement to keep going, and to make time for writing more routinely. With my dear loved one's help, we've been doing writing sprints (specific Mando related), and it has helped like you wouldn't believe!

For everyone who's sent me messages, comments, and even just positive vibes - thank you so, so much. I may not respond, but believe me when I say that I do read them all. I cherish every single one.

I hope you all have been able to find joy and comfort this holiday season, alone or with friends or family. I appreciate this space as a place of kindness and of happiness, and that's all because of how lovely you are. Thank you, always. 🩷

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for holding money my parents owe me over their heads?

I (21) live with my mom (53F), stepdad (52M), and two siblings (15M), (23M). Recently they’ve been pushing me to get a job despite previous conversations we’ve had, and I want to tell them that they can push me to get a job after they pay me back all the money they owe me, but I think I might be the asshole if I do.

For background context, I have had severe chronic health issues since 2014 and mental health issues since a really young age. They are diagnosed but I don’t want to get into it rn. The heart issues, chronic pain, and fatigue makes it really difficult for me to even take care of myself and I almost never leave the house.

I applied for SSI in 2021 and was denied for the first time and appeal before it was sent to hearing stage and an ALJ, and just last week I received the letter stating that I had been denied again.

When the letter came saying that I was denied I was very upset, mostly very angry. I showed the letter to my mom and I asked for her opinion, and she said that she thought “there isn’t enough here” that “you should just give it up” and “I heard [local grocery store] is letting cashiers sit on stools now.”

Just the next day I mentioned to my parents that I had been looking at some jobs and found one specifically that I felt I might be able to do a few 4hr shifts of a week. They were enthusiastic until I mentioned the “a few 4hr shifts” part, where they then pressed me to do 8hr shifts saying “you’re not even going to try?” even as I told them that I can barely stay awake more than a few hours at a time. I tried to explain to them that even if I could keep the job indefinitely (unlikely) doing too many or too long shifts would burn me out quickly and make it harder to get another job if I got fired from that one (likely) and they just got angry and were mocking me.

Here’s where the WIBTA comes into play. I don’t want to burn myself out when we can still appeal the decision, and I’m not even the only one in this household who doesn’t work. I get tips every so often for my writing/art and donations, and every cent always ends up going to them for food and gas and bills, even if I’m trying to save. After a few years they owe me somewhere upwards of $1000, I stopped keeping track after it hit that. I never ask for my money back and never hold it over their heads, but now I want to.

I was going to try to keep a job while I wait for this appeal because I really do want to help, but now I feel like whatever I do is never going to be enough and they’re always going to be pushing for more.

Would it be a dick move to tell my parents that they can push me to get a job when they pay me back what they owe me?

What are these acronyms?

[bullet-prooflove]

Goodbye Sam: Sam Abrams x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @maryelizabeth13 @toasted-stiletto @district447

Companion piece to:

Divorce!Series:

Part One: The Fight Before Christmas - You and Sam get into a fight after he discovers you've been keeping a secret from him.

Part Two: Should Have - There's a lot of things Sam should have done.

Part Three: Fraught - Sam makes a decision regarding your relationship.

Part Four: Sign Here - Sam serves you with divorce papers.

Part Five: Don't Look Back - After running into you at the hospital Sam tries to convince himself not to look back.

Part Six: Lost - You and Sam reaquaint the day the divorce comes through.

Part Seven: Martial Affairs - There's debate regarding yours and Sam's status.

Part Eight: The Fall - Sam and you end up back where you started before the divorce.

Part Nine: Couples Counselling - Sam and you start to date again after couple's counselling.

Part Ten: Mrs. Fuckin' Polite - Sam walks into a nightmare when he comes home one night.

It’s Sam’s last night in Chicago and you’ve both tried to make it as perfect as possible. Dinner at Orphino’s, a moonlit walk through the park with gelato from ‘The Little Italian Place’ just like on the night the two of you met. It seems fitting that it circles back like this. It’s how your marriage started, now it’s how it ends.

You find yourself back at the house you once shared, Sam undressing you in the illumination of the candlelight, Etta James serenading you in the background. He takes his time loving you, his lips exploring every single inch of bare skin before you climax on his tongue. He’ll never get tired of that taste, he’s going to miss it when he’s gone. You’re flushed and overwrought by the time he enters you, your fingers entwining as his mouth covers yours, drinking down your pleasure.

The two of you move together in the flickering light, the ecstasy building into a crescendo as you tighten underneath him.

“I love you.” He whispers at the height of it all because he knows he won’t get to say it again. He stays for as long as he can in the aftermath, his thumb ghosting over your cheek as he lays tangled up in you.

“I’m going to miss this.” He whispers against your lips “I’m going to miss you.”

You fall asleep wrapped up in one another until his phone chimes a couple of hours later rousing you, reminding him of his flight. He dresses in the glow from the burnt down candles as you drape your robe over your naked form. Your fingers interlink with his as you walk him to the door, his suitcase already perched alongside of it, waiting.

“So this is goodbye.” You say quietly as he lingers and Sam swallows hard against the well of emotion in his chest.

“Yea.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “Elle I…”

There are so many things he wants to say but all of them are redundant because in the end it all comes down to this.

He has to go and you have to stay.

After Lucy’s rapist Marcus Croyton had been released back into the wild, the fear of running into him, of it happening again became too much. She suffered a break down and was now recovering in a facility in New York, where she could be close to her mother. Sam had dropped everything immediately, taking a sabbatical to support her before he’d made the decision to relocate, taking a position in Mount Sinai Hospital.

“I know I can’t ask you to come with me.” He’d told you, his hand clasping your hand tightly in his over dinner one evening. “You need to be here for your patients, for your mother…”

She’d been diagnosed with Parkinson’s a few months before, she was rapidly declining and you needed to be here to help her manage the condition.

“And you need to be with your daughter.” You’d finished, squeezing his hand in solidarity. “It’s ok Sam, I understand.”

You do and that’s one of the reasons that Sam loves you, because you support him with the hard choices, even when they break both of your hearts.

“Goodbye Elle.” He whispers as he kisses you one last time.

“Goodbye Sam.” You say as you open the door and watch the man you love walk away for good.

Love Sam? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mysticstarlightduck]

(Important) Update: Where I've Been All This Time <3

TW. Mentions of (NOT GRAPHIC) IRL sickness in this post

Hello, my wonderful friends! I hope you all have been having a wonderful time <3

I know I've been AWOL here on tumblr for quite a while now, and I feel I owe - for the sake of my sanity at the very least - an explanation. Sorry it took so long to get to this.

This year so far has been - in many bad and good ways - a whirlwind for me in my life. College hit me hard, with a lot more assignments and classwork than I was prepared for, and unfortunately so did my health. I've been struggling with physical health issues since the August last year, but had chalked it up to stress and side effects of the fibromyalgia I already have.

My health has been on a steady but sure decline since then. But it was only this year it really plummeted. I've been diagnosed with a rather late stage of Lyme Disease, that has been untreated since last year because I didn't realize I had it, and that's why my life has been utter hell. The symptoms are not easy to deal with, and I don't quite want to get into detail about it.

Long story short, this means I've been barely able to keep up with my classwork demands, let alone my own personal needs, and my books have fallen to the sidelines (which has made me quite depressed but that's not the issue) because I'm physically unable to sit down and write without feeling sicker or having to lay down because I'm in too much pain to do anything else. I want to write, I want to post and I want to do my comissions and start my comics, but its impossible for me to keep up right now.

Quick disclaimer: I am NOT giving up on this blog or stopping writing. I'm not. I really want to continue and I have so many wonderful ideas I wish I could put in motion, but right now I just don't have the time, health and unfortunately ability to do so. This is just an update so you guys know I am NOT abandoning this blog <3

Pls keep tagging me, pls continue including me in tag games, it really means a lot to me, and I want to catch up as soon as I can! For now, I'll participate here and there - because I want to - but if I take longer than usual, y'all know why now <3

Hugs, the Mystic Duck (:

[raccoonfallsharder]

hello, friends! i wanted to give you a quick update. i am certainly on the mend right now. i feel better than i have in probably a week or more, and though i am still not clear of pneumonia and all its complications in my life lol, i am hoping to be almost completely back to normal by the end of this week, if all goes well.

i also wanted to thank you all for your kindness and also your threats and affectionate insults. thank you, so much, for caring. the world can be a hard place to live, and we are encouraged in so many ways to live these small atomized lives. but no matter how tenuous or fleeting our internet-interactions are, they are still real, and i appreciate you reaching out to tell me to rest, and to send me your well-wishes. it truly does mean so much, not only as a moment of connection, but also as a reminder of how well people can care for each other, even those they barely know or never met. you all inspire and uplift me, and i am grateful for it.

for those of you more curious about the details (and the absolutely absurdity of my friday night this week), you can read on. i tend to fall into irreverent medical narrative monologuing (as i do with everything else lol) but i will try to keep it brief.

content warnings for doctors, medical stuff, pain and illness, emergencies, and hospitals.

here's the basic timeline of my week lol:

on tuesday, i got really sick. i tend to not have a lot of normal symptoms for things (i have only had a fever once in my life, and it was NOT the time i had appendicitis, a ruptured intestine, or kidney stones), and figuring out when i don't feel well takes a lot of conscious effort on my part. plus i gaslight myself hard. these are all things i'm working on and have gotten a lot better at - which is probably the only reason why i went to urgent care instead of convincing myself this was "just a flu" and trying to take care of myself at home. i had been having side pain as well, which i had attributed to a pulled muscle, but something in me was afraid i had maybe done something else and caused an injury that got infected or something. i don't know, it just felt connected.

urgent care diagnosed me with probable pneumonia (they couldn't find it with the stethoscope, but they were confident it was there) and started treating that. they believed the strained muscle was not related but told me to come back on friday with an x-ray if my other symptoms didn't improve.

on friday morning, we went to get an x-ray done at 7am and hit up urgentcare on the way back. the x-ray said i was clear on pneumonia, but my cough was worse and my nausea had returned (no fever anymore though, thank goodness). my muscle pain in my back was also so much worse, presumably because of all my coughing, so they gave me some meds for my lungs and for my muscle pain.

now we get to friday evening, probably 5pm. i have a coughing fit with an unsupported back - and i scream. i think i blacked out for a second. my partner came in running. i couldn't move. i've never been in so much pain in my life, and i have a stupid-high pain tolerance. (this is another part of my issue with figuring out when i don't feel well). at this point, the pain had suddenly migrated. it felt like it was grinding down through my flank and into my groin. the location felt very similar to a kidney stone but it was unlike anything i had ever experienced before. i was sweating, trying to walk to the car and then up through the hospital doors. the guard at the front was like "get this woman a wheelchair" lollol.

it was a pretty crowded night so when we were admitted, we were stuck in the hall, which was fine by me. the doctors and nurses were all lovely (my partner believes we were the favorites on the floor because we are very easy-going and also funny lol. i think he has a slightly-inflated view of us but whatever, one of us is wrong and i'm happy if it's me). anyway, the med staff all seemed to think - like me - that perhaps all my symptoms had actually been a kidney stone, and that it was the cough that was unrelated, rather than the muscle pain. so eventually i go back a CT. The scan comes back an hour or so later and, surprise, it is still pneumonia (of course it was able to pick up what an x-ray couldn't). What it also noticed is that the pneumonia had inflamed my entire diaphragm. i do not remember learning much about the diaphragm in school but i knew from logic that it had something to do with respiration because of my choir- and stage-inclined friends. but it does a lot of other things as well (like puppeteering the bladder) and impacts a lot of systems and also, apparently, causes a lot of fucking pain when inflamed.

so. they had already given me some pretty hefty anti-inflammatories. they tell me they'd actually like to replace the seven other drugs the urgent care doctors have me on with one different one. it should totally knock out the pneumonia, especially since i will be starting with a full course of the medication after already tackling the pneumonia with the other antibiotics since tuesday. this sounds great to me, and i say sure. they give me the new drug and discharge me, more quickly than i have ever seen a discharge take place, and i was on my way - already feeling better than i had in days thanks to the antiinflammatory they'd given me before.

here's where the night gets spicy

we get in the car, i'm feeling better than i have in days, it's all good. we hit the freeway and i'm like. huh. my face feels funny.

my partner's like.... what.

i'm like, i don't know? my face feels funny? not itchy or anything, but like.... weird?

he says, should we go back?

i'm like... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i genuinely cannot identify this sensation.

then something switches, and i'm like... oh yeah, okay. my mouth and face all feel like... not itchy, but fuzzy. staticky. and while i have not had this kind of reaction before (like everything else, my allergies show up weirdly), i have heard about it. so i say, yeah.... i think we should go back. my throat's a little tight, but there's no swelling on my face, no hives - because again, i am weirdly symptomatic. and because i'm aces at gaslighting myself, i say, maybe i'm overreacting?

which is when i realize that at some point, my partner has called 911. i answer some questions but it's definitely hard to keep my eyes open. and then the car is pulled over, and there are EMTs. and my partner tells them i've been passing out at thirty second intervals. i tell them i'm just being a drama queen and i'm probably overreacting. they apparently think that's some bullshit and i get my very first ambulance ride. i'm phasing in and out - pretty badly hypotensive with really low blood pressure, but still - no visible swelling. my throat is tight enough that my voice sounds like that of a ninety-year-old who's been smoking four packs a day her entire life, but there's nothing they can SEE, other than that i'm "cold and clammy" (rude, lol). still, they stick me with epinephrine and give me some O2 and take me right back to where i come from.

one of the nurses from earlier sees me being wheeled in (to a room, this time - no hallways for repeat customers, i guess) and she is like, "NO! miss dae! why are you back?!!" and i say, "because i missed you. and i wanted the room upgrade."

and then i start giggling hysterically.

and the registering nurse asks me if i consent to have my insurance billed and i say, "FUCK YEAH. fuck those guys" and giggle some more. i don't know if that was the epinephrine or just pure delirium at that point.

then i start crying because i feel so bad about coming back, again. all my self-gaslighting really coming out to the forefront. and they're like, NO, you did absolutely what you should have done, don't be silly.

they get me all settled and are shooting me up with a ton of antihistamines, and finally let me partner back, and my voice still sounds like rocks going through a meat grinder but you know what? you know what antihistimines do? THEY DECREASE INFLAMMATION. so my diaphragm is feeling better than it has in like, a week.

my doctor from earlier comes in, and he clearly felt so bad about everything. he tells me to return to my previous course of drugs, and puts this one in my file as another allergen. after about an hour of fluids and watching me, they release us. we get home at 3:30am and crawl into bed, safe as houses.

now, i can't really say "the end." the pneumonia's not gone yet, and i still have some ongoing pain from my diaphragm. additionally, a coughing fit that happened later that night does seem to have damaged an old surgery site (probably because of the diaphragm muscle, actually), so i need to get that checked out this week too. BUT. i am feeling so much better than i have all week. i am privileged to have decent insurance and while we do have to live pretty frugally, we make ends meet. we're lucky that we will be able to take care of these bills when they come.

and honestly? that shit is FUNNY. (i mean, for me. definitely not for my poor partner who probably lost twenty-seven years off his life; pray for him). i can't wait to really perfect the way i tell this story because it's HILARIOUS. like. what the fuck

anyway if you actually read all this, first of all, wow. second of all. i appreciate you. thank you for worrying about me, for wondering about me, and for caring in general. i'm so grateful, and i hope that you have everything you need, today and every day moving forward.