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#If an animal was in constant 8-9/10 pain and there was no cure we would just kill it
aftermathing · 3 months
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schwiftit-blog · 6 years
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Hiiiiiiii! I was wondering if you could do an image where Rick finds out the reader has depression/suicidal thoughts. Thank you!
Major trigger warning for suicidal contemplation, “casual” suicidal thoughts, and over all harsh topics. This fic is pretty long too, so hopefully its still what you were looking for. Enjoy and thanks for the request!!
>>>
You’re what the kids are dubbing now as casually suicidal. Well, more specifically you were depressed with casual suicidal thoughts. You couldn’t believe the term when you googled your symptoms: The constant just do it, you can end it right now paired with the delicate why not? why not just jump off the edge, put your hand on the burner, throw yourself out the car, grab the knife, slice––
These intrusive thoughts would be less worrying if they came at appropriate times. They surfaced after a normal day, while you ate dinner, or when you were driving. They popped out during the most normal of times and that was when you realized you were beginning to normalize them. They were as part of everyday life as was brushing your teeth or even sleeping. 
And somehow, you always managed to ignore these…Urges. These babbling, compulsive thoughts that, at the time, don’t seem too abnormal. Until you start scrawling down how many of these particular thoughts you’re having a day. 
The journal is worn out, something you snagged from the discount bookstore from downtown. The front and back are an mottled light brown. There’s a small drawstring that slips around it so you can tie it up. There was no spiral spine, the paper a bit thicker than printer. It fit in the palm of your hand, almost mimicking the small size of a planner. The journal was a few bucks, a cheap steal really. You picked a blue ballpoint pen to go along with it and thus began your journey of journal keeping.
If you just ended it now, you won’t have to deal with traffic ever again. 2
Why not just do it to…Do it? 1
Each time you had one of these thoughts, you would quickly jot it down when you had the chance. Next to it, you’d rate the level of motivated you felt to actually commit the action. Most of these thoughts stayed within the 1-4 range of “seriousness”. However, some days the thoughts were blunter, harsher, and you found yourself jotting down a 7 or an 8. Never had you had a 9 or 10 thankfully.
Once you began filling pages with these thoughts, you realized just how in deep you were. 
>>
Somewhere along the line you decided telling Rick about these thoughts would be a Very Bad Idea and therefore, plan Very Bad Idea was marked off the list of “things to do about this issue”. You knew you needed to take action, to be properly diagnosed, you even had the journal to show you were actively taking part in recognizing these thoughts.
However, at some point, the journal became something too personal to ever share with anyone and so, began the real mission: Keep the Journal from Rick.
Rick Sanchez was an extremely nosy person, for that you were certain. The genius was not only a master of deduction, but also a mastermind at observing the little signal people shared about their lives. So, it is when you are sitting in your apartment, knees curled up to your chest and journal out, that Rick of course decides to portal in. Unannounced.
Completely unannounced. 
You scramble to throw the book under your covers, but before you can Rick is stumbling forward with his flask in hand and coat whipping wildly behind him whilst the portal shrinks away. You know you look a deer in headlights and Rick decides to just––
“S-Shit babe, you seen a ghost or what?” He asks, words slurring and feet unstable. He collapses on the bed, face in your lap and long limbs dangling off the edge of your bed. He kicks off his shoes with squirming difficulty, a sure sign he plans to stay a while and bug you. Probably even sleep over if he’s drunk enough to pass out.
Do drunk comas count as sleepovers? You’d like to think so.
The book is plastered to Rick’s cheek and somehow he is still unaware of it, or rather simply, he probably doesn’t care. With a calm motion you run your fingers through his hair and hope you can slip it from his face and slide it to the edge of the bed.
Operation: Out of Sight, Out of Mind is a go. 
Your fingers graze the edge of the pages.
“No, but I am seeing sorosis right in my lap.” You counter, tugging not even an inch of the book out.
He shifts.
“Oh, one of those moods, huh ba-babe?” Rick rolls his eyes, then meets yours with a drunken grin spattering his face. “I know just how to fix that up.”
Long fingers begin to scour your stomach, lightly leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You squirm, unable to move due to the journal and Rick’s weight on you. He sits up a touch, craning his neck to press a kiss, then a bit to your lower abdomen. You suck in a harsh breath before he sits up and––
The pages stick to his cheek and then plop onto the sheets. Rick’s eyes land on it and you know its downhill from there. In half a heartbeat the mood in the room shifts from sexually-tense to stressfully-tense. Rick reads over the words, the numbers, feeling the thickness of the filled out pages.
“What is––What the fuck is this shit?” He asks you, half serious, half kidding. Like he thinks this is maybe a college project or perhaps a coding system for one of your other more obscure hobbies.
“Its, uh, well I mean…” Your hand goes to your neck and that is a definite sign to Rick that this is what it looks like.
“What do the numbers mean.” It isn’t a question, but rather a demand. The words grinding out and, most alarmingly, without a stutter.
You hang your head in shame for a moment, eyes not daring meet Rick’s again. “How…Close I got to trying out whatever thought…I had?” The words get stuck coming out, but they eventually do.
Rick’s quiet and you hear the constant flip of pages before a bony hand is lifting your chin. The grip is firm and near painful leaving you no choice but to look up. This was turning out to be just as painful as you thought it would be.
“Op-Open up,” Rick mumbles, his other hand grabbing something you can’t see. Cool metal is pressed to your lips a second later and not too long after that the searing burn of whiskey is choking you. You take the drink in stride for a moment before sputtering, residual alcohol slipping down your chin and your sinuses on fucking fire. “Thats it…G-Good girl, alright, alright, enough. I can’t take your sniffling, its just a-alcohol. Sheesh.”
You sat with your back against the wall, your hands fisting the sheets while you waited for Rick’s next move. Already you could feel the liquor in your toes and the warmth was spreading from your chest. 
“I’m not gonna––There’s no magic lesson here, alright?” He leans back on one hand, drinking more from his flask with the other. Drool settles on his chin and you watch it as he leans forward and points at your chest. His finger just continues on until it is jabbing you right where you think he thinks your heart is. Rick is only a little off, to cut the guy some slack at least. 
“But you can’t be––Y-You can’t obsess over this shit. People, their brains, trust me. Sometimes they’re fucking just not working, you know? And we have���–There is t-this whole fucking universe spanning around us, and yet…W-W-We have thoughts against ourselves like that.” Rick was becoming slightly more animated as he spoke, beginning with gestures and eventually shifting so he was in your personal space.
You nod for lack of words to say, your shoulders slowly losing their tension.
“And the fucking benefit to it all is b-babe, you’re with Rick Sanchez!” He finishes off, like it makes any sense. “Y-You wanna ge-get these feelings out of your system? W-W-Well we can. We fucking can and with no fucking repercussions because I just want to give that big ol’ fuck you to the universe. Loopholes bitch, now th-thats what we’re all about.”
“I don’t…Understand?” You ask, voice apprehensive.
“Tonight, we’re gonna lay low. Eat that pussy, get you all boneless and relaxed. Tomorrow we’re g-going to head out to one of my favorite spots along the galaxy. You’ll see. Trust me.”
And you do, because if Rick was good at one thing, it was earning people’s trust. 
“Now here, t-t-the only real cure for this shit is liquor so…Drink up.”
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captain-zajjy · 7 years
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Solstice, Chapter 27 - A Final Fantasy XV Story
Pairing: Ignis x Female Original Character
AO3 | Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
The last week had passed as though Valeria was living in a dream; only the constant darkness, the poverty, and the rumbling in her stomach indicated otherwise. It didn’t matter. None of it did. After all these years, Ignis was hers, and she was his, and they were together in a way that she’d once thought impossible.
The unspoken tension that had always existed between them, that sadness for things that could never be, was gone, obliterated - replaced with a very juvenile awkwardness and embarrassment as they explored each others’ bodies and began to define just exactly what ‘together’ meant for the pair of them.
For the next few hours, however, together would have to wait - Cor Leonis had summoned them to his office so they could report the strange daemons they’d encountered at Fort Vaullerey to some scientist.
“She’s a bit eccentric,” Ignis had said of the researcher. “Well, perhaps more than a bit.”
Valeria and Ignis made the now-familiar journey to the high school-turned-Hunter HQ, and up the stairs to the second floor. In the corner outside the stairwell, Valeria spied Prompto chatting with a young woman in coveralls who seemed to hang on his every (numerous) word. As soon as he caught sight of them, he quickly said his goodbyes and fell into step with Ignis and Valeria.
“Was than Sandy? Wait, no...Cindy?” Valeria asked.
“Nah,” Prompto said. “Just a fellow chocobo enthusiast. Hey, we should start a fan club!” Prompto jabbed her with a pointy elbow. “What do you say?”
“Typically, I don’t think real-life animals have ‘fan’ clubs,” Ignis said.
“Well, then, we’ll be the first,” Prompto said.
Valeria gave him a bemused smile. “We’ll see.”
“Oh, hey.” Prompto paused to dig into his pockets. “Check it out!” Several brass cylinders sat atop his palm.
“Bullets?” Valeria asked.
“Yup!”
Valeria tilted her head. “Okay...”
“They’re not normal bullets. Look.” He held up one of the items in question. “Rubber bullets. For training. The Marshal says we can’t train with live rounds.”
“For good reason,” Ignis said under his breath.
Valeria wasn’t entirely sure what Prompto wanted from her. “That’s cool, I guess.”
Prompto tapped her on the arm. “Training for you. It’ll be fun, right?”
“Ah, that's a generous offer,” Ignis said.
“Oh, I...” Valeria frowned. “I don’t want to be a Hunter or anything.”
“I know,” Prompto chirped. “Just like, self-defense, that kinda thing.”
“Well...” Valeria looked between Ignis and Prompto, both offering her encouraging smiles. “Sure, I guess. Thanks.”
“Alright!” Prompto pumped his fist in the air. “Chocobo fan club meeting, then target practice. Sweet.”
Before Valeria could object, they were at the door of Cor Leonis’s office, and Prompto raised his hand.
“Knock, Prompto,” Ignis said.
“I was gonna!” Prompto said defensively. “Tell him, Val.”
“He was,” Valeria admitted.
“You’re learning,” Ignis replied. “Excellent.”
“‘You’re learning,’” Prompto muttered under his breath, his attempt at Ignis’s accent almost laughably poor. After he made a loud show of knocking, Cor opened the door and let them in.
Ignis insisted Valeria take the only seat, electing to stand behind her chair, while Prompto leaned on the wall next to them.
“Is Gladio not here?” Ignis asked.
“He’s under the weather,” Cor replied with a frown. “According to Iris.”
“Nothing serious, I hope,” Ignis said.
“Nothing Cup Noodles can’t cure, I bet,” Prompto replied.
The other occupant of the room was a woman wearing large glasses, her dark, frizzy hair tucked beneath a crumpled bucket hat. She was scribbling furiously on a torn piece of notebook paper, seemingly oblivious to the conversation around them - and Cor’s multiple attempts at clearing his throat.
When she finally set her pen down, she looked up and exclaimed, “Oh,” as if just now noticing their presence.
“Professor Sania Yeagre,” Cor announced.
“Formerly of Duscae University, currently head of the Daemon Research Department of Lestallum,” Sania added. She listed her credentials flatly, like one simply stating a fact, rather than a boast.
Valeria’s eyebrows shot up. “There’s a Daemon Research Department?”
“There will be,” Sania replied. “As soon as I get some research assistants. Speaking of, are you-”
“A pity, we’re all terribly busy,” Ignis quickly interjected. He then let out a small cough, as if to say, trust me.
So rather than question it further, Valeria rose offered her hand in greeting. “Valeria Soleil,” she said. “Former vice-president of a company that no longer exists.”
Sania merely acknowledged her with a nod, then her gaze slid between Ignis and Prompto. “So, that friend of yours really was the Prince. What a shame,” she lamented. “He was a great research assistant.”
“To the matter at hand,” Cor interjected, clearly eager to get this over with. “The daemons you encountered at Fort Vaullerey.”
“Yes,” Ignis said. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Do you ever stop?” Prompto asked.
“About that encounter,” Ignis clarified. “I have a theory, if I may.” He told the story backwards, beginning with the daemon mass they’d fought in the hangar, and ending with the blood they’d found outside on the pavement.
“I believe that the daemons inside the building attacked that individual, then dragged him outside to share with their fellows. I’ve never seen something like that before.” Ignis rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “In the past, they gathered in groups, but it was never coordinated. And they certainly did not...share.”
“Coordination...” Sania muttered under her breath, her gaze a million miles away. “...assimilation...the groups...the virus...yes!” She slammed her hand down so hard on Cor’s desk that Valeria jumped. “It wasn’t sharing,” Sania said, like it was all suddenly, painfully obvious. “It was anabolism.”
“A-what-a-what now?” Prompto asked.
“The synthesis of a complex structure from simpler ones,” Sania said. “Yes, of course!”
“You’re saying the daemons took that person, not to kill or consume, but to...become one of them?” Ignis ventured. “That level of intelligence...”
“Is unprecedented.” Sania’s dark eyes were gleaming with excitement, entirely opposite of the horror that Valeria felt.
“Because of the Imperial experiments?” Cor asked.
“Maybe.” Sania shrugged. “Maybe it’s evolution. Adaptation. Fascinating, isn’t it?” No, Valeria thought. Not at all. “Nature always finds a way to survive.”
“Nothing about daemons are natural,” Ignis said. “They’re a curse.”
Sania dismissed that with a wave of her hand. “That’s just religious hogwash. The Starscourge is like any other organism - its only objectives are to reproduce and survive. Hmm...” That faraway gleam was back in her eyes. Sania turned back to her notebook paper, and began to jot something down as she mumbled to herself.
After a loud cough, Ignis finally said, “Is there anything else you wish to ask?” Sania only acknowledged the question with a flick of her wrist.
“I think we are done here,” Valeria said to Ignis. The two of them and Prompto attempted to bid the scientist farewell, and then returned to the hallway.
“Hey, can I-” Prompto’s eyes darted between Ignis and Valeria. “Can I talk to you guys about something?”
“Of course, Prompto,” Ignis replied. Valeria nodded.
Prompto drew them both over to the same corner next to the stairs where Valeria had spotted him earlier; idly, she wondered if this spot was Prompto’s office.
“Iggy,” Prompto began, shifting from foot to foot. “The first time we were at the Fort - was that stuff there? The cages and...and the other stuff.”
“The experiments, you mean,” Ignis said.
“Yeah. Your memory’s better than mine, so...” Prompto’s big blue eyes were looking up at Ignis expectantly, almost pleading.
“No,” Ignis replied with a frown. “Such things were not present during our first foray into the Fort.”
“Dammit,” Prompto muttered. “Why though? Why now?”
Valeria nodded. “You’re right. Before the Darkness, all their research made sense - it was evil and cruel, but it made sense. They were trying to conquer Lucis. But now...what’s the point?”
Ignis idly tapped his cane against the floor as he considered her question. “Why, indeed. I believe there are two possibilities. The first,” he held up his index finger, “is that, Imperials being as they are, had orders to conduct their research prior to the Darkness, and simply continued with their tasks as they awaited further instructions.”
“Well, that’s definitely possible, knowing the Niffs,” Valeria said. “I don’t think they even take bathroom breaks without getting three forms of approval.”
Prompto laughed nervously as Ignis continued. “The second, and more troubling possibility,” he said as he raised his second finger alongside the first, “is that these are new orders. But from whom?”
“...Ardyn?” Prompto ventured, his mouth twisting in a snarl around the name.
“Ardyn?” Valeria interjected. “Who's that?”
“The Imperial Chancellor,” Ignis supplied, then shook his head. “And I don’t think so. If he wanted to rule, he could have easily seized power from the Emperor years ago. Everything about his behavior seems to indicate he prefers to work from the shadows and manipulate those in charge.”
“But the Emperor’s dead,” Prompto insisted. “And the...the h-head scientist, the High Commander-”
“Caligo Ulldor’s dead?” Valeria interjected. Good riddance, she thought.
Prompto gave her a quizzical look. “No. Ravus was the High Commander.”
“Ulldor.” She felt Ignis’s grip tighten on her arm for just a second. “How do you know that name?”
“They...” Valeria closed her eyes, quelling the phantom feeling of pain erupting along the side of her face. “They said Lord Ravus got moved to some other position and Ulldor was in charge, back in Insomnia. They paraded him around on a stage and everything.” Valeria wanted to tell Ignis the whole truth - she really did - but not with Prompto there.
“Hmm.” Ignis furrowed his brows. “Well, I don’t know what’s become of Ulldor. But Lord Ravus is decidedly deceased.”
Valeria frowned. Ignis had been so certain that if they removed the men at the top, the Empire would crumble. It was one time where she hated being right.
“The Emperor was pretty old,” she said. “I’m sure he had children, maybe even grandchildren, nieces, nephews...”
“Imperial inheritance is not strictly patrilineal,” Ignis explained. “But your point still stands. There are certainly people still amongst the living who would be deemed fit to succeed the Emperor.”
“So the Empire’s still out there?” Prompto whispered, looking vaguely distraught. “Still trying to take over everything?”
“I said it was a possibility,” Ignis clarified, his voice gentle. “Don’t trouble yourself, Prompto. Whatever comes our way, we shall endure it.”
“I know, I...” Prompto looked down at the floor, scuffing the toe of his boot on the tile. “I just don’t want more people to die.”
“No one does,” Valeria offered, although there was a short list of exceptions she had to that statement, starting with one Caligo Ulldor.
“Shall we check in on Gladio on our way home?” Ignis asked, obviously trying to change the subject.
“Huh?” Prompto looked up. “Gladio? He’s probably just hungover.”
Ignis clucked his tongue. “I would expect he’s ailing with something more serious if it kept him from his duty.”
“Nah, dude. Have you tried the stuff he’s been drinking lately?” When Ignis shook his head, Prompto wrinkled his nose. “He tried to give me some last time I was over there. It smelled like the stuff you used to use to clean our wounds.”
“Oh, dear,” Ignis muttered. As the supply of legitimate liquor in the city rapidly dwindled, Valeria had heard of people improvising all sorts of questionable methods to produce alcohol; it wasn’t at all surprising that these ‘homebrews’ left imbibers feeling seriously ill.
“Like I said,” Prompto went on. “Nothing some Cup Noodles can’t cure. And probably a lot of hurling. Anyway,” he stretched his arms overhead, “I gotta go help with breaking in the new recruits. Can you believe it? Me - in charge. See ya!”
In his apartment’s tiny kitchen, Ignis stood facing the sink, drying the evening’s dishes and cutlery with a towel before putting them away in the cabinets to his right. Behind him, a pair of arms encircled his waist, a head leaned against his back.
“My compliments to the chef,” Valeria said.
Ignis smiled, at both the physical contact and that statement. “Rationing is making it difficult, but he is doing the best he can.” He’d finally resumed using the stove and oven for cooking; Valeria helped by keeping an eye on things and ensuring he didn’t inadvertently set anything on fire. It had been weeks since Ignis had actually gone to bed feeling full - the rations were enough to keep them from starving, but little more than that.
Valeria squeezed his sides. “Like I said - my compliments.”
“You have my thanks.” Ignis placed the final glass back in the cupboard and turned around to face her. “Not just for the compliments. For...for everything.” He wished he could better articulate his gratitude for all she had done for him in this dark time, for all the happiness and comfort her presence had brought him.
Ignis’s fingertips walked up her arms to rove the planes of her face, and he tried to connect the shapes he was feeling to his memory of her appearance. The majority of the time, he viewed his blindness as a hindrance, a source of frustration and sometimes embarrassment, an obstacle that he simply had to find a new way to overcome. But right now, feeling her smile and knowing he was unable to see it, that he would never be able to look upon her beautiful face or see his affection for her reflected in her eyes - the only way to describe that was loss, a loss he grieved ardently. He tried to take comfort in his memories so as not to dwell on the sadness of it all.
The muscles of her mouth and eyebrows twitched beneath Ignis’s fingers, like she was growing confused or irritated with him.
“Permit me a few more moments to admire your face,” he implored. He felt her cheeks grow hot, and he chuckled. “Why are you blushing?”
“I don’t know.” Valeria’s eyelashes fluttered against his skin. “I guess I haven’t felt pretty in a long time.”
That admission seemed so absurd to him that Ignis nearly laughed out loud, but stopped himself, knowing she wasn’t joking. “Why ever not?”
Valeria sighed and leaned into his palm, placing her own hand atop his. “Being ordered around, corralled into tents, constantly on the run - it made me feel...” She trailed off as she searched for the right word.
“Like an animal?” Ignis supplied.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “Like an animal.”
“And now?” he asked softly. “Do you still feel as if you’re in a cage?”
“No.” Ignis felt her smile once more. “I feel safe here. Protected.”
He couldn’t help the way his back straightened at that statement, the way his shoulders and chest suddenly felt a bit broader. “Good,” he said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead. “I am glad to hear it.”
Valeria took Ignis by the hand, leading him over to the couch in the center of the room. “What are you going to tell the others?” she asked. “About us.”
“Nothing,” Ignis replied. “It’s none of their business.”
Valeria laughed. “Somehow, I doubt Prompto gets that.”
“He doesn’t,” Ignis said. “He can find someone else through whom to live vicariously.”
It’s my life. Mine. Such a simple sentiment, yet one Ignis had forgotten through the years, trying to live up to his uncle’s expectations, trying to do his best to serve crown and country. He had always endeavored to prove that he wasn’t like his late father, a wastrel and a fop, whose frivolous spending had driven the already-waning House of Scientia into debt, and whose reckless folly had driven himself and his young wife into the side of a mountain during a late-night snowstorm. Your father was born with every advantage, Ignis’s uncle had once said to him. And, one-by-one, he squandered them all.
So, Ignis had kept his head down. He did as he was told, respected his betters, and always put others’ needs before his own. And, most of the time, he derived a real satisfaction from that, but somewhere along the way, Ignis’s own wants and needs had been lost. Uncovering them now was a work-in-progress, both frightening and exhilarating in turns.
“What are you thinking about, Iggy?” Valeria asked.
“My parents,” he admitted.
“Oh.” Her tone suggested she hadn’t been expecting such an answer. “Well,” she put a hand on his arm, “I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”
Ignis inclined his head. “I’d like to hope so. And you...” He straightened his neck. “Your mother would be as well.”
Valeria paused. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I can’t help but think if she were here now, she’d already have all of Lestallum running like some well-oiled machine.”
He shook his head. “Your mother was certainly a formidable woman, but I somehow doubt that.”
“I don’t know, I...” Valeria sighed. “I always felt like a knockoff. Like if anyone looked too close, they could tell that I was just a phony, trying to be like her. Like I was never good enough.”
“Nonsense.” Ignis slung his arm around her shoulder and pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head. “You’re one-of-a-kind.”
“Flatterer.” Before he knew it, Valeria shifted and was straddling his lap, her hands on his lapels pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss which inevitably deepened until their tongues were intertwined and Ignis’s heart was pounding, thinking he had never tasted anything half so sweet.
Physically, their relationship hadn’t progressed past this stage, that even a child would consider innocuous and tame. Valeria made him feel fumbling and bumbling, like he was all hands, like his legs were always in the way; with her, he remained in a stunted state of adolescence, that bewildered boy standing on her mother’s porch after his first kiss.
Awkwardness aside, Ignis’s old-fashioned sensibilities dictated that there was a proper order to things, the correct way to formally woo and court a woman - and it didn’t involve jumping into bed with her the first moment one felt a stirring in his loins.
He felt more than a stirring now. It was almost embarrassing how quickly Ignis, master of self-control, roused at her touch, her mouth on his. Nearly a decade of longing was distilled into a tightness in his chest and in his trousers, one she absolutely had to be aware of by now.
When Valeria twisted her hips, relieving the pressure on his aching crotch, Ignis fell back on old habits and apologized.
“For what?” She laughed against his mouth. “Being attracted to me?”
“Er...” Here she was, leaving him tongue-tied once more. “For...well, for prodding you, I suppose.” Ignis knew his face had gone beet red. Specs...you’re a moron.
Again, she laughed and kissed the bridge of his nose. “I, um...” Her voice had suddenly grown quiet, almost shy. “I could, um...”
He felt her fingers on his belt buckle and swallowed hard. “Wait.” He grabbed her hands. “Allow.... Please allow me to reciprocate, first.”
Ignis didn’t even care that that sentence didn’t make sense. All he could think was, this is happening, as she allowed his fingers to explore the slim, smooth planes of her bare thighs, as her fingers curled in the back of his hair. This is actually happening. Buzzing filled his ears as his hand slid beneath her skirt, grazing the fabric of her underwear.
Beep-bzz.
Dear Gods, Ignis thought, feeling Valeria’s breath hitch against his face. I may not last long enough for her to reciprocate.
Beep-bzz. Beep-bzz.
He paused. That sound wasn’t the blood rushing in his ears. It was coming from across the room.
“Is...” Ignis had to cough to keep his voice from cracking. “Is that your phone?”
“W-what?” Valeria whispered in his ear. The beeps immediately followed by a buzzing vibration sounded once more. “Dammit,” she muttered. “No one ever calls me. Why now?”
Why now, indeed, Ignis lamented. Aloud, he said, “It could be EXINERIS with another task for you.”
And, because they were both still learning how to be selfish and how to say ‘no’ to their betters, Valeria slid off Ignis’s lap with a sigh of frustration, while Ignis couldn’t help but groan. If nothing was done about this, he was going to be miserably sore in the morning.
He heard her snatch up the phone. “Three missed calls,” she said. “I don’t recognize this number. Oh!” The phone buzzed again. “It’s a message.” She walked back to Ignis as she read.
“‘Hi, pumpkin. I just made it to Lestallum. Can you come get me down at the gate?’”
“‘Pumpkin?’” Ignis chuckled, bemused. “Who in the world calls you ‘pumpkin?’”
Next to him, Valeria froze. “My dad.”
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surayajasmine · 7 years
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15 Things To Live By When In High School
I decided to make this list of things that I should have done before, during my first year in high school and take it into account sincerely. Anyways, I think it’s important that I share it with everyone.
1: Forgiving is SO important. And, I don’t mean the meaningless, insincere type of forgiveness that you say to your friends, just because it makes them feel better about themselves. Sometimes, you need them to feel guilty about what they’ve done and learn to gain that trust to redeem from their mistakes. And, forgiving people makes you stronger, mentally, and it gives you a sense of maturity, instead of holding unnecessary grudges.
2. Happiness isn’t CONSTANT. What does that mean? Well, it means that being happy all the time, in front of your peers or crowd in school, is okay. But, if you’re feeling down, there’s no need to hide it, because we all have our bad days. Let it out if you’re feeling down. No shame in releasing some steam. Just make sure to get back on track ASAP.
3: To care OR not to care. Why would you want to spend your high school life, pretending to be the cool and snobby one, and pretending to not give a shit about others? At the same time, why would you even pay attention to those who talk bad about you? What I should have done in school is to actually care about those who matter to me, who are kind to me, who help me in any way. Those people are the ones worth caring about. It’s hard to ignore the buzz in the background about you, but, trust me, taking the high road makes you the better person, regardless of how much it stings. Eventually, what goes around, comes around. Karma will give them a taste of their own medicine.
4: Parents play a HUGE role in your life From what I’ve known, plenty of my schoolmates aren’t close to their parents, or maybe their parents disagree with them on something. Guys, believe me when I say this, your parents are almost always right. I used to think that was freaking ridiculous, until I considered the consequences of my actions from their point of view. Imagine this; Your child, only daughter, sneaking behind your back to spend the lunch money you gave her on shopping, and seeing boys behind your back. If we were the child, we’d think it’s nothing harmful, it’s just shopping and dating. But, from your parents’ eyes, you are spending their hard earned money on items that you don’t need, and you’re betraying their trust. To earn our parents trust, is to understand their situation, talk to them, be honest (seriously, guys, it’s so important), respect their choices, and think rationally and maturely. Someday, we’ll have kids of our own and what we do now, could potentially be a reflection of ourselves when we misbehaved during our teen years. Don’t push your parents away. And, do what you can to bond with them. Family is first.
5: CLEAN, clean, clean. Do whatever it takes to maintain a good appearance and surroundings. Deodorant, brushing teeth and face wash are a MUST. Firstly, why would you not wear deodorant to school, where you’ll be spending nearly 7-8 hours in such an environment. Your body odour is a big no-no. To not brush your teeth is very disgusting, cause your morning breath definitely doesn’t smell like Chanel perfume, so, never skip brushing teeth, even if you’re running late. A messy appearance isn’t the way to go. Try your best to have a good overall cleanliness. Shave, brush, shower, etc. After all, you’re a teen and you undergo some insane hormonal changes. Best to look good and feel good.
6: REST your mind and body. We’re growing teens, therefore, sleep is so important to us. Yes, I like sleep as much as the next person, but oversleeping isn’t good either. I know people who don’t get enough rest every night, so, when school starts the next day, the coffee fiesta has begun, and the dozing off students.
7. LEARN TO SAY NO. They force you to take some illegal shit and it’s against your values and morals. Say no. They want you to be their lap dog and cover their asses for them when they’re wrong. Say no. When someone pushes you around, and thinks they can get away. Hell nah. You own it darling and show em how it’s done.
8. COOKING is a lifesaver. Okay let’s be honest here, I’ve had my disasters in the kitchen too many times. Like I’ve accidentally burnt instant noodles in the microwave. (don’t ask me how. I was only 7 years old and hungry af). Cooking will go a long way. You will find yourself one day cooking for yourself in college, in the kitchenette. It’s best to learn how to cook at an early age, at least get some basics of some simple recipes to help you when you’re off to universities or whatever. Even when you move out into your own place, you have to make use of the kitchen, and not always buy food or order outside. You gotta spend wisely. Start cooking even in high school. You’ll learn and master it, trust me, you will need it.
9. Spend your CASH wisely. Just because you have pocket money, or your parents give you lunch money, or even your own earnings from a part time job, doesn’t mean you HAVE TO SPEND IT. You see that top that you really like? But costs an arm and leg? Don’t splurge on it! Save that dough up for some other good shit that you really need. Like money to get a place of your own someday. Or some cash to get you by when things are rough. Or even money to pay for your own college funds. Things are hella expensive these days, and we have to think of how to save it, so we can use it for the right times.
10. GET A PART TIME JOB. Yeah, I can’t seem to emphasise this enough, but, you guys are on the road to adulthood. And, to NOT have the experience of what a working environment is like… That’s criminal. It’s good to have some exposure to what the real world is, for instance, booking appointments for clients, doing some hard labour, etc. You have to start somewhere. Corporate world is all about hiring young adults with experience. But, if you don’t have the least idea of what a working world is, it can be difficult to find a job that is suitable for you.
. 11. Not everyone you are FRIENDS WITH WILL LAST FOREVER. As harsh as it may sound, it’s the truth. Just because you are friends with them now in high school, doesn’t mean it’ll work out when you guys graduate and ship off to other ends of the world to earn that degree. Nope. You will grow apart after sometime. You will notice the distance of the conversations you share. It’s normal and there’s nothing to be scared of. Some people just don’t vibe with you, or maybe you realise that you deserve better. It’s okay.
12. Enjoy high school while you can. I’m going to be a senior soon and, it made me realise how much I’m going to miss high school. Ya sure. It sucked so much for me at certain points because people can be a bunch of dicks. No surprise there. But, where else are you gonna get an experience of high school? I’m gonna miss the high school food the most, cause it rocks. I’ll miss the insane practices I had to go through every day after school. You wont get anything like this when you’re an adult. So, being in high school has its ups and downs. But above all, there is some fun in it. And, you may not notice it now, but when you approach your last days of high school, it’ll hit you.
13. BE KIND High school is not a Mean Girls movie where you can just put everything in a Burn Book. Yeah, okay, that person pissed you off, but to go out and have vengeance on that person and get yourself in trouble too? Nope. Don’t be that person. As hard as it may seem, you have to be kind to the people you don’t want to be with at all. Even if they’ve hurt your feelings. Or even threw you aside like you were nothing. It’s painful. But, it’ll give you the strength to pick yourself up and move on and grow into the gorgeous human being. Patience is key.
14. Go easy on the PARTIES. Everyone loves a good party. Including yours truly. But, you have to put some limits on how hard you party. Don’t overdo yourself and don’t do anything you are forced into. It’s a big no-no. There’s a thing called partying too hard, and it will take a toll on your mind and body. It’s terrible and I’ve witnessed someone going through a tough time the next day in school. It was horrible. Go for the parties that are worth going to. Like birthday parties. Christmas. New year’s. Just as long as you are aware of your surroundings, but still having the time of your life. Be a good but careful party animal.
15. A GOOD PLAYLIST CURES ALL. You sure as hell don’t wanna go through the bad days of high school with a terrible playlist. The wrong song can set your mood from 100-0 in no time flat. Listening to Coldplay has definitely helped me survive dark days of heartache and perked me up on a good day. Make playlists for different situations like studying, exercising, relaxing, etc. (However I do not recommend putting a sad playlist when you are in the middle of a breakup. That’s gonna make you feel worse.) But, do put songs that perk up your day. As well as songs to release your frustration. And don’t be afraid to dance or sing along to the songs. Why else would you make such an incredible playlist?
Those are pretty much my tips and advice on high school. And, it might not work for everyone else. But I hope it does. It did work out for me. I’ve been through some painful shit in high school, but thankfully I am doing well now. It’s not only to help you with high school, but it’ll shape your character into the better version of the person you are now. That’s all from me.
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invisiblenotbroken · 7 years
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Ehlers Danlos, Fibromyalgia, POTS, & MCA Collect Them All {Invisible Illness Podcast}
"What you do is not who you are."  -- Monica MIchelle
Invisible Illness: Which one do I qualify as sick? Also, a little window into my daily world
Every time I rattle off my disorders I almost have to count them off on my fingers. Did I forget one? Would it even matter when they all fall under the umbrella of ok no you're not crazy, no cure, and wow that's really a thing? I will leave links at the bottom if you would like to know more about the wonderfully creative ways my body attempts to make itself into modern sculpture.
This is my interview. It is candid and though I am writing this before recording I am guessing littered with swear words. If I have to live like this, be inspiring, be funny, and do all of the other things I need to I get to lean on my favorite four letter word. If this is offensive to you please know that being in constant pain every day is offensive to me.
If You Want To Know More About My Disorders
Ehlers Danlos
POTS
 Mast Cell Activation
Fibromyalgia
NOT one of my diagnosis but mentioned Chiari Malformation
Thank you so much for listening. Please share with a friend and don't forget to leave a kind if not glowing review on ITunes.
Until next time
Be Kind. Be Gentle. Be a Bad Ass.
My Questionairre 
Monica Michelle
I became symptomatic at 8 and have gone through different levels of disability and surgeries from my teens to going on disability in my late 30’s.
1. Who were you before your illness became debilitating?
I think I am lucky. I have been in chronic pain my entire life so I was never completely someone else. I don’t have a memory of being healthy or not in pain. I was a ballerina, a teacher, a jeweler, and a photography studio owner. I am and always will be a storyteller and an artist. I do miss being a photographer. I miss being a part of the community of women in business in the silicon valley. I desperately miss traveling. I miss bike rides. I miss being able to plan. I very much miss hiking and bike riding. I miss walking around Pescadero with my kids. I miss being able to take myself to Drs. Appointments or taking the dogs out. That was the person I used to be before this disorder became impossible to hide.
 2. Is there anything you would do if you were not sick?
This is a hard one. I would still be a photographer. I would still be living across the Bay. I don’t know if either of those things would be good for me. If I wasn’t sick I would ride my bike again. I would travel. I would have liked to have become an art teacher for High School. I have binders full of business plans for non-profits I would have loved to have the energy to run.
 3. What should other people know about our daily life?
It changes minute to minute. My heart rate can plummet or race. I can be walking normally and in the next step my hip can dislocate and I won’t be able to walk for a long time. I search for words. I am smarter than I can articulate. Moving in healthy world is X Games for me. In my wheelchair I get dumped on the ground thanks to roots, people stopping suddenly in front of me, and poor city planning with ramps that are only for the truly adventuress.
 4. What would make living and moving in the world easier for you?
If BART would make sure their elevators worked and were clean (whatever is on the ground will end up on my hands). If you see someone in a wheelchair and you are crossing the street don’t cross right in the middle of the ramp. That is where it is flattest. That’s the part I need. If I am struggling please come by, say hello, offer to help. I know this isn’t an everyone thing but it is a me thing. I have trouble balancing everything with my canes or opening doors with my wheelchair.
 5. Life hacks?
My IPadPro is my world. It is my extra brain. With the pencil, I have an unending source of paper to write my ideas down. I use fiverr for technical things I don’t know how to do. I use TaskRabbit for physical things. My sticks are my favorite way to get around. Mine have been discontinued but these look pretty good. Send me a review if you like them.
 6. Support from family or friends?
I am beyond privileged and lucky in this department. My mother has helped me with everything. I would like to underline everything. I get worse as the day goes on and she picks up my children from school most days. She takes me to my doctor's appointments. My husband does most housework and cooking. My children have really stepped up helping with chores. I made a shelf on the refrigerator that has microwave meals on it that the kids can get to. I am trying to get better at asking friends to come over.
 7. Do you find that people do not believe you are sick because of your appearance?
I am lucky. I use canes and wheelchair when I am doing badly and it is hard to ignore a bone sticking out of my wrist or the shoulder pushed forward so I don’t often have these moments. I have had a woman rush up and glare at me pointing to the handicap sign and back at me while I was waiting for my daughter to bring my canes. She had the good grace to just walk away.
 8. How has this affected your relationships?
I lost a lot of friendships when I stopped working. I think I scared people who were my age running businesses in the Silicon Valley. No one expects you to retire at 38. I was fortunate that my husband was my best friend for 3 years before we got married so he had already seen a picture of what for better or worse would be. I had people I had been in relationships leave because I was sick so it was probably the only way I would have ever gotten married again was knowing that he had already seen some of the worst and was still all in.
 9. What are you afraid to tell even the people closest to you?
I’m lonely. I’m fucking terrified each time things get bad that this will be the new normal. That I can get so depressed I feel like I'm drowning. I’m scared I am scaring my children. I HATE disappointing people or my animals. It takes almost nothing to push me into guilt or into doing something I really shouldn’t be just because I don’t want to inconvenience them. I will agree with you or change the subject if an argument goes beyond my ability to pay attention or to keep standing or sitting.
 10. Does the fact that your disease is invisible change how healthcare professionals treat you?
Yes, I spent most of my teens being told I was crazy. I was told I was nervous. That I was depressed and overreacting. If a doctor can’t pin something on a disease they will usually pin the fault on the patient.
 11. Best coping mechanism?
My dogs. My cats when they aren’t evil or when they are. Drawing, when I can. Reading when the book is great. The rare days I can bike ride are magic. Scrolling on Pinterest needs to be reclassified as transcendental meditation. Talking with my son. Curling up with my daughter. Laying next to my husband watching our next ok just one more episode show.
 12. Favorite swear word?
FUCK. It is versatile and no word feels the same level of expression and relief when shouted.
 13. What are you the most fearful of and what are you the most hopeful for in the future?
I am fucking terrified I won’t travel out of the country. I am terrified I won’t make my own money again.That my children will blame or resent me. That life will pass me by while I sit in bed waiting for a bone to come home or for my heart to stop its' jazz improv. I am scared I will get worse. That I will have to give more ground.
Hopeful isn’t much in my wheelhouse tonight. I wish it was. I wish I could say something fabulous and witty that would soften all the dark I wrote but when I began this podcast I decided on complete honesty. I am feeling sad and dark right now. Maybe if I wrote this last week or even tomorrow I would have a bright answer for this but I am writing this now and now I am not feeling it.
Links To Some Of My Favorite Things
Quickie Wheelchair              Dyson V7                 Midnight Texas     
Marijuana  Topical               Apple Watch            Dr. Who                  
Single Payer                            Fitbit                         Supergirl
Hearst Castle                        Go Beyond Physical Therapy
Trigger Point Release         Task Rabbit               Slow Cooker   
Muldowney Method           5 Calls App              Pinterest
Resistbot (texting as poltical actavism)                  HelloMD
Shameless Plug For My New Bedtime Story Book!
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