#My brain is weird and I'm tired and have a headache

[romaniacs]

▌ㅤNATASHA ROMANOFF — I MISS YOU MORE THAN LIFE

( read more ) synopsis — natasha's harsh words are like a knife twisting inside your already mean brain as she's been dealing with an imminent breakdown due to work-related stress, and so she soothes you from the pain she causes herself. warnings — female reader x natasha romanoff, crying, a little bit of everything; fluff + angst… so hurt-comfort.

"y/n- you're still up?" natasha sounds tired just before her breath catches in her throat as she sees the mess she's caused, your teary eyes lifting to rest on her worried face. "baby, no, why are you crying? are you in pain? having cramps?" and your silence is brief yet loud. "is it something i said? did i… did i make you cry?"

her hands roam over your wet cheeks as she feels a wave of that nurturing energy she usually has taking over her again, as strongly as it could be after a long time of giving you nothing. when she said i don't think i wanna go out in a stressed-out tone, looking over the paperwork she had to finish yesterday, it felt a bit off to you. when she had the last bites of the food you had kept for yourself, you just sulked in a corner. woman had to eat, it was fine. when she stopped kissing you goodbye before leaving, you understood. but when you were on a call and she started cussing out as she dealt with a sudden work issue that popped up and sounded rude to you too, it was a bit too much for you.

i'll hang up, she said not long ago. i'm a bit too mad to talk right now and you're not helping. your headache will pass, just go to bed.

you feel the distance natasha's putting between you two solidifying with time, and things don't seem to be going well with your job either.

it's just been hard. in general.

and now that she finally got home and entered your bedroom, reality hit her like a truck.

"it's nothing" you bring her hands down, off your face, but don't want to be rude. it really is nothing much. you just want to be left alone, as she seems to have been trying to make happen. "it really isn't, don't mind me. just sleep. it's late."

"are you kidding me? you're crying, y/n" her voice is not as soft, strangely. "if i did anything wrong, you can just tell me."

"can't you see it yourself?"

her eyes are suddenly locked onto your face, even though it's dark. she's also finally coming down from the long-lasting stress she's been through. "well, yeah" she sounds weird. calmer. confused. way more aware of herself, and consequently her eyes water up in a second. "yeah. sorry. i think i've been a bit harsh lately. it's just…"

"work, i know" you pat her hand softly as you give her an understanding look. "it's fine. just rest, okay?"

natasha can't bring herself to say much anyway, so she takes the chance to take off her jacket and lay down beside you. after a while, she rests an arm around your waist, pushing some hair off your forehead.

"i'm really sorry, y/n" natasha mumbles on your back. "i don't love you any less. i just haven't been doing so right. it's hard keeping my cool, and i try not to be harsh, but…" her voice trails off. "i've been under a lot of pressure. and not managing it well. but i love you."

"you don't have to explain anything to me, i understand. just don't treat me differently if you can just not treat me in any way and avoid making me second-guess my own actions" you whisper. "i love you a lot, nat. i don't need calmness, i just need to be sure you still love me. so it's okay."

"mhm. just hate myself for making you cry, you don't deserve that" she places a gentle kiss on your skin, her body warmly placed behind yours. and things almost feel normal for a second, just as they used to be before the mission she's been on. "i won't stop loving you even when hell freezes over, detka. trust me."

and you do, you can finally fall asleep. you feel wanted again, even if things still hurt, even if work won't stop on the way of your relationship, but whatever it is that tries to bring you down is fortunately none of your heart's business; even when your heart is heavy, it's still hers.

[yurinaa-world]

Can I request Jing Yuan, Dan Heng and Sundy with an anxious!cozy!s/o who secretly terrifyingly observant and calculating? ((👁-👁) level ie. looking deep into your soul level observant.)

At times it slips (ex. Admitting to being obsessed with complex puzzles that most people can't even fathom or subtly tipping them about someone's intention before the boys pick up on it) reader panics a bit.

Reader is conflicted because on onehand, they know whats going on and they wont get tricked easily BUT they hate how they know too much at times. Thus fuels their anxiety.

They either have to isolate themselves for a while or wear cozy oversized garmets as comfort (aka all the time)

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, & Sunday x Gender-neutral reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with anxious and cozy reader

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

Over time he’s picked up more details on your behaviour, you're so observant to the point you don’t realize that your face says what you're thinking. Just in the middle of a conversation with you, he can see how you look around taking in everything around as if you were a cute detective. 

He doesn’t mind that you want to be alone or that you just want to sit in silence, seeing You'll get overloaded and get a headache. He does worry you end up staying up late and being lost in thoughts, forgetting that it’s already 3:00 am. (He might just grab you, cover your eyes and force you to bed to get a good night's sleep).

He finds your cute oversized clothes then formal (because you like to look so comfortable in them), your hair is all messy, your tired voice, sometimes the shirt is off one of your shoulders because it is way too oversized for you but it’s still comfortable.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“What might my dear be thinking about instead of sleeping?”  

You don’t even realize that he’s there until he wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side. “I can’t sleep, I'm thinking about something.”  You turn towards him and find him already looking at you with a look that’s both gentle and tender. 

You feel like something is wrong, squinting your eyes at him—you just have that weird gut feeling—looking around his body to find ‘something’ you are not sure what it is until you look at his shoulder—it looks way too stiff than usual, your hand grabbing his shoulder a bit roughly only to hear him let out a small groan.

“Did you get hurt?” You ask softly, letting go of the shoulder in an instant,  looking at him worriedly, “Can't let anything escape your gaze?” He smiles slightly though, leaning forward and kissing the side of your head lightly before you cover his mouth with your hand, frowning on your face.

“Are you sure you’re fine?”  You ask again, this time more serious than earlier. He shakes his head and kisses your hand once before removing it from his mouth. “I promise that I’m alright.” He says in a soft voice,  caressing your cheek.  This makes you look away shyly,  the warmth spreading across your cheeks.

“it’s time for you to go to bed.” “I don’t need you telling me that-“ he grabs you and pulls you close into him, shoving your face in his chest so you couldn’t see anything “Sleep.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

He’s amazed by how you still remember the small details in a conversation that even he can’t remember. He thought at first you were like him, observant, and quiet but you surpassed and beyond everything you expected from him.

You spend most of your time in his room and not your own, not that he doesn’t mind at all but just looking over from his books to see you looking around his room trying to see small details while messing with a complicated puzzle in your hands.

He takes you away to calm you down when you’re in a conversation to hear what you want to say because of the face you had on, eyes wide and slightly nervous while looking at your nails and back at the person. (he got you out of that conversation so quickly)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Looking down on your puzzle with your brain bustling with ideas and taking notes of small details around his room that usually aren't noticed (and you might also be watching him read one of his books and might have been staring for too long that you locked eyes by accident and looked away). Quickly shifting the pieces of the puzzle when you get caught yet neither of you say anything, that doesn't stop you from gazing at him from the top of your eye.

"Dan Heng why are you reading that book when you already finished it?"  you asked softly/ "It's a well-written book with good character development and story building." "Is it that good that I want to read for the 3rd time?"  he responded while looking up from his book to look at you. "you just said it was only the 3rd time so I'd assume it is still good enough to read again." 

"But Dan Heng don't you ever want to read new things?." you understand everything and why people do it but you're just curious about what a person thinks of what they're doing and the reasons for their actions. He doesn't mind asking him questions and he'll answer each one with the best of his abilities. 

“Sometimes people like to reread things because they don’t want something to end.”

“Oh is that what you're doing?—oddly enough you always are in that spot specifically while reading that same book.” You say before murmuring another part. “You always remember everything don’t you.”

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

You’re just like him. He doesn’t expect anything less from his soulmate, it’s as if you were hand-made for each other. Your mind is so calculating and observant, the dream you are. He’ll adore you, he’ll tease you, smile with you, he’ll experience everything with you.

He raves about the small cute glances you do when you think he doesn’t notice or when you take your eyes off from whatever you might be doing just to look at him working. He can feel your loving gaze before you go back to whatever you might be doing. (He might just confront you and see your embarrassed expression)

Don’t worry about anything, not even the person you’re warning him about, he’s already dealt with long before you got the chance to tell him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Sunday aren’t you worried?” 

You don’t understand how he’s never worried about anything, just so calm even when you're alone with each other. “what would I be worried about my dear?” you feel him taking into your heart, arms around your shoulder, your back pressed against his chest.

“Didn’t you see how suspicious they were acting?” you say with hesitation in your tone, your fingers tightening onto the fabric of his shirt. you feel him nod as a response from behind you. 

“I know something’s up, I feel it in my gut just wanted to warn you”. you mumble the last sentence,  turning to face him, he looks down, and his hand goes to the side of your cheek already making you feel comfortable.

“No need to worry yourself over me,”  he leans down and kisses you on the cheek,  smiling sweetly at you, a warm feeling spreads through your chest. 

“I've already dealt with everything.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[phagodyke]

this is actually insane have I really been working at that difficulty level for the last 5 months. when I couldve been on stimulants all along. is this how it is for nt ppl to do shit 😐

dunno if this is just placebo effect but I do feel like it's already helping a bit. usually at work I'm fighting for my life trying to write emails or ask ppl for things bc I find it so hard to put my words in order in a way that makes sense to other people but it's been 100% fine.. and I've managed to just Do every task I need so far without rly needing to think..... I feel so calm wtf

[amethystina]

A health update (and a general explanation of my long Covid)

So while I've been pretty open about living with long Covid, I realise I've never taken the time to explain what that actually means for me and my quality of living. It's a phrase I toss around but I can imagine it doesn't feel all that substantial to a lot of you.

So I figured that now that I'm feeling a bit better (more on that later) I should do so. Partly because I figure it will make it easier to understand why I sometimes have to disappear for weeks on end.

So, if you're interested, feel free to keep reading under the cut :)

But be warned: It's long and kind of whiny. But also ends on a high note! So there's that.

The first time I caught Covid was around Easter 2020, long before there were any vaccines, which meant that I was hit hard. But no matter how bad I felt during the illness itself, the aftermath has been ten times worse. I've been living with my long Covid symptoms ever since, so for four years now. They worsened for a couple of months when I caught Covid a second time in February 2021, but have otherwise held pretty steady during those four years.

A lot of people experience different symptoms with their long Covid and, sometimes, they'll change as the weeks and months go by. I actually had a very interesting couple of months during 2022 when my sense of smell just went completely whack and everything suddenly smelled differently than it should. Like, I could be smelling an apple but it did not smell like an apple. It was a weird time in my life.

Anyway. My most common symptoms are fatigue, fevers, joint pain, brain fog, memory issues, incoherent speech, and lowered blood circulation.

(The latter actually kickstarted the Raynaud's syndrome I have on my mother's side so now I struggle with fingers and feet that will occasionally go white, bloodless, and completely numb at random intervals. Fun times)

The fatigue and fevers are the worst by far. For the past four years, I have had exhaustion fevers between two to five times a week. Or every single day if I'm unlucky. It's very much tied to how much sleep I'm getting, how well I'm eating, and how many taxing things I do each day. I need eight hours of sleep to be functional and anything less than that will most likely mean I'll end up having a fever before the day is over.

Unfortunately, I've always had issues with my sleep so, on most nights, I don't get eight hours even if I try my absolute best. Sometimes it's because I wake up too early and can't fall back asleep and, sometimes — because my life sucks — it's because my fever is so high that I can't fall asleep. Cue the endless cycle of too little sleep and fevers.

Because one of the main issues with these exhaustion fevers — and what makes them so difficult to manage — is that there's no way to lower them. Medicine has no effect whatsoever. Once I have it, I just have to suffer through however many hours are left until I can sleep and hope that it'll be gone in the morning. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.

And every day my energy level gets just a little bit lower and the fever a little bit higher. Some days, all I can do when I get home from work is to lie on the couch and stare at the wall because I'm too tired and in too much pain to even watch something. And, again, no amount of medicine helps.

It continues on like this for a while and, every third or fourth month or so, the strain eventually becomes too much and I fall ill. My body simply shuts down from the continued stress and exhaustion, to the point where I can barely get out of bed. And, usually, I can feel it coming. On top of the fevers, I start coughing, then get a headache, and then my nose gets stuffy. And, by that time, I know I have about two to four days before I get sick. It's so accurate that my coworkers have learned that when I give the sign, they have to tell me whatever tasks they need to be finished within the near future since I'll probably be out of commission for one to two weeks.

But I eventually recover, go back to work, and so the cycle starts again. And again. And again. And again.

For four years.

All of this has, unsurprisingly, affected my quality of life to a pretty significant degree. I can barely work, let alone spend time doing any of my hobbies. I can't really travel anymore and, if I do, I'll get sick from the exhaustion. Even the 50-minute commute to the office (which I have to do three times a week) usually results in a fever before the day is over.

This inability to travel was how I ended up missing my maternal granddad's funeral. My shitty relatives didn't tell us the date for when he would be buried until there were only two days left and even if I could have put myself on an overnight train to get there, I knew I would be in no shape to actually be at the funeral if I did. So I couldn't go.

I did go to sit with my paternal grandmother as she was dying but, as expected, I got sick and couldn't return to work for a couple of days afterwards.

I also have to skip most birthday celebrations and any events happening on weekdays since I'm usually too feverish or won't manage the required trip to get there. My life has shrunk so much I barely recognise it anymore. I don't recognise myself. I used to be one of those people who could do a million things at the same time and somehow complete all of them. I was firm, organised, and efficient.

And now I'm not.

(... or, well, technically I am — at least compared to many others — but not compared to how I used to be xD)

Point being, a lot of things have changed and I don't like it. But, with that said, I'm also well aware that I'm lucky to be alive and I'm fortunate enough to have a stable job and a roof over my head. So, all things considered, I'm still doing pretty well.

But I also can't lie and say that this hasn't affected me in a deep and fundamental way. My life has changed and, right now, I don't know if it'll ever return to what I used to consider normal. And dealing with that knowledge — and the grief and fear that comes with it — hasn't been easy. I have cried ugly, self-pitying tears over this many, many times. It's frustrating to have no control over what my body does and to constantly have to be careful of what I do so I don't exhaust myself. I am furious that this happened to me.

But, after four years, there's also a certain amount of acceptance. And while I'm annoyed by my new limitations, I try my best not to feel too sorry for myself. Instead, I try to adapt as best I can, even if I might not always do it gracefully.

That does mean that I sometimes push myself more than I should, though. Because, if I didn't, I wouldn't never produce anything. As depressing as it is to admit, everything I've given you in the past four years has been while I was sick. I don't think a single chapter I've written or drawing I've made has been untouched by this. I've become an expert at writing, editing, and drawing even with a fever.

That doesn't mean I regret it, though — quite the opposite. I think that if I hadn't had a reason to write and draw, I would have felt even worse. A lof of the time, the excitement I feel when I'm able to post a chapter or show off a drawing I've made has been the highlight of my week. It's an accomplishment.

But, that said, it's still hard. Writing in particular. It requires a level of brainpower I can't reach when the fevers are too bad. And so, sometimes, I just can't. I literally just can't.

And, back in January, as I was trying to edit chapter 39 of Who Holds the Devil, I honestly pushed myself too hard. I was so determined to finish it that I didn't let myself see just how bad I was feeling — not at all helped by how emotionally draining the content of the chapter was.

It was only once I finished the chapter and posted it that I realised how absolutely wretched I felt. Not because of the chapter itself, but my lack of compassion for myself, I guess? Because the fevers were bad, I was barely sleeping, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted. And, what was worse, I realised that I was displaying depression symptoms I hadn't seen in over ten years.

All of a sudden, I got annoyed as soon as a minor inconvenience appeared. Everything people said to me was dissected into its tiniest component. I feared that people were secretly hating me. I couldn't meet people's eyes anymore when I was talking to them. I didn't realise I was just sitting there, staring at a wall, until several minutes had already passed.

And, as the final nail in the coffin, I stopped talking about how I was feeling.

And that, right there, is my last warning that I need to do something — always has been, ever since I was a teenager. When I clam up completely, refusing to admit to the people around me that I'm feeling bad, that's when I'm about to spiral.

So, the very next day, I went to my boss and told her that I'm getting burnt out and I need to do something NOW or this was going to turn ugly real soon. Thankfully, my boss is amazing and, after a doctor's visit, I was put on partial sick leave. Right now, I'm working six hours a day instead of eight and, let me tell you, I'm thriving.

Or, well, as much as I can while still having long Covid.

I'm almost angry at how much better I feel because, if I had known, I would have done this a lot sooner. I actually have energy now! I've only had a fever about four times in a little over a month! That's insane! It used to be four a week!

So yeah. I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. The downside is that the partial sick leave is still only temporary and there are no guarantees that I'll be able to keep it. Though, if need be, I'll just have to ask my boss to rewrite my contract and change the amount of hours I work because, man, I don't ever want to go back considering how much better and happier I feel. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I feel like I've gotten my life back. It's not quite the same as before, but close enough to it that I kind of want to cry again — but happy tears this time.

And so I've spent the past couple of weeks just... living? When, before that, it felt like I was merely existing. I've been drawing a lot since that helps with the depression symptoms (which are almost completely gone, thank god) but writing has been harder. Possibly because I forced myself to do it during a time when I felt really, really bad and now I'm instinctively trying to shy away from it. But, since I know that's just my mind playing tricks on me, I'm going to give it another try this weekend. I want to write and I miss the stories I'm working on. And, hopefully, since I'm feeling a bit better, I can maybe get back to a more structured uploading schedule. But we'll see. As always, I can't make any promises.

But that's about it, I guess? I'm feeling better and, since I am, I've been doing a lot of things that I wasn't able to before (like taking walks — I take a lot of walks). And I'm still trying to figure out my new routine now that I work less. And while I still get sick sometimes (I am right now, in fact, due to lack of sleep on Tuesday night) I always find my way back eventually.

So yeah. If you've read this far, thank you so much for your patience 💜 I admit that I don't really enjoy writing things like these since it feels like I'm whining — I was very much raised not to take up space or complain when things are difficult (an unfortunate side effect to being the middle child with two disabled, high-maintenance siblings) — but I also prefer honesty and transparency. And I feel a little guilty since there are times when I've given pretty harsh responses when people question why I'm sick all the time or why I don't upload chapters as often as I used to, but without actually explaining why. So I guess it's time to be honest?

And the truth is that I've been constantly sick for the past four years. Not only due to my long Covid, but also the emotional and psychological toll of all the loss, grief, and pain I've been through. These past four years have been rough.

But I'm not saying that to gain pity or make excuses. I actually think I've done pretty well considering just how hindered I've been. I've improved my drawings so much and have written... god knows how many words. I'm honestly kind of scared to check xD But it has to be over 600k by now, maybe closer to 700k.

I think my only regret is that I haven't been able to engage with you all to the extent I would want. I wish I could be a more active and enthusiastic participant in fandom — to seek you out, hold conversations, and give you all even a fraction of the attention you've given me. I feel like I don't offer you nearly enough.

But I also know that I have to accept my own limitations. So, for now, we'll have to settle for whatever I can give, even if it's less than I would want. But I will keep on creating, trust me on that, because I'm stubborn as fuck and even if my pace is slower, I'm still determined to finish what I start.

And that's the note I want to end this on. I have suffered, yes — more so than I may have expressed to you all — but I've still managed to create some beautiful things. And while I mourn who I used to be and the fact that some of you have never known me at my best, I don't think the me I am right now is all that terrible. Do I want things to change? Yes, definitely. But do I want to change the choices I've made and the things I've accomplished in the past four years? No, I can't say that I do. I'm proud of what I've done, especially considering my limitations.

And, if you're reading this, thank you so, so much for your kindness, compassion, and support. Some of you are old friends while others of you are new, but I am grateful to every single one of you. You have made these past four years more bearable. You have made it easier to keep fighting. You have made it worth it.

Thank you 💜

[abubbleina-void]

That's my wife

Steve Binder x Fem!Black!Reader

Reader and Steve are married, they share both of their last names, reader is somewhat tall, reader is a boss ass bitch, reader is implied/mentioned to be infertile, reader is female(sorry), Steve is a simp for reader, suggestive dialogue(no smut), reader wears pants, reader and Steve match accessories, and protective!Steve(I think)

The smell of cigarette smoke fills the sound room, multiple eyes focusing on Elvis on the stage below, the young man's voice blasting through the speakers. The abrupt sound of the door slamming gains the attention of people in the room, yet a pair of blue eyes stay focused on the act below. Those pairs of blue eyes belong to the amazing Steve Binder-(L/N), a great man, producer, friend, partner, and husband, yes husband.

Steve had the opportunity to work with the infamous Elvis the Pelvis Presley, to produce his Comeback film. At first, he was hesitant to accept the offer, but he could see that Elvis's career wasn't doing...well. But Bones had convinced him, there could be a possibility that old Elvis might come back.

Steve can feel a headache beginning to form, a dull pounding at the back of his head and the slight twitch in his left eyebrow gave it away. If the Conole didn't shut his yapper soon, Steve was gut him like the fat fish he was.

"Kennedys' been shot!"

That definitely broke him from his thought. The backtrack of Elvis's song continued playing through the pen-drop silence throughout the studio.

Dancers, makeup artists, hairdressers, singers, and others alike were piled in the small dressing room, the dialogue of the news lady sounding like white noise besides a couple words Kennedy, shot, and dead stick in the brains of the listeners. The decrease in volume catches the attention of the grieving, Steve stands in front of the TV eyes slightly red and glistening with tears.

"Listen I, uh, I just want to say that," a sad chuckle breaks through his lips. "This nation is hurting, it's lost you know."

A couple of nods and sniffles ring throughout the group.

"It needs a vioce right now, to help heal it," he nods towards Elvis. "You, you have to a statement EP," said man's eyes lighting up.

"Mr. Presely doesn't makes statements." Eyes snap to the colonel.

"He sings here comes Santa Claus", he walks towards Steve menacingly. "And wishes everyone merry Christmas and good night", he continues with a sharp glare on his face.

A beat of somber silence passes by, anger and frustration build up in Steve and Elvis. Steve knows that the Colonel could care less about the president's death and Elvis, he was The Snowman, after all, he was cold in all ways.

"This tragedy, a tragedy yes," fake sympathy is plastered on his face. "But it has nothing to do with us."

At that Steve had calmly stormed out of the room, Bones and Jerry following. Everyone else had walked out of the room slowly after, all going their separate ways to dressing rooms mostly or back to the stage. Steve had walked, well stomped into the sound booth, lighter lighting the cigarette in his hand.

He takes a deep inhale of the toxic smoke, holding it for a beat. He knew that he had a show to run he knew it but during this time, nobody was really in the best mental state to work. As he exhaled the smoke the phone on the best corner rang, he let it ring for two more rings before his shaky hands picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey sweets, you okay?"

At the sound of your voice, his body instantly slacked. He was glad you called, but that's not what he's worried about at the moment.

"I'm fine puff," he had called you that due to your afro, rather than a halo of curls on top of your head reminds him of a puff of smoke. I know weird comparison.

"'M just a little tired, how about you?"

" 'M not gonna lie to ya sweets," your voice shakes a little. "I'm a lil shakin' up."

Steve puts out his cigarette as he exhales the last bit of smoke. He can feel the dull pounding get a bit louder, now trust me dear reader it's not because of you I promise.

"Yeah, this...event has everyone shakin' up," a small sigh. "I wouldn't be surprised if the damn whole country stopped functioning." A small laugh was heard through the speaker.

"Honestly, I'd believe it," A huff escaped your lips. "Damn near got into a fuckin' car accident when I heard it."

"What?"

"It's nothing though, I'm fine the cars fine," you murmur softly. "And so is my fro." Steve couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

The line is silent for a moment, it's somewhat comforting in a way. "Even though neither of you is facing the other in the comfort of your shared bed, it seems as if you were standing next to one another.

"Hey, puff?"

"...yeah?"

"How do you feel about getting creative again?"

"I'm on my way."

Elvis, Bones, and Jerry are watching Steve pace in the small room. Elvis laying on the floor by the piano, Jerry lounging on the black couch on the wall, and Bones leaning on the crisp black piano watching his friend stress out.

"What's he stressin' about," questions Elvis.

"I don't know E," Jerry says eyes narrowing on the nervous man.

"He's nervous about his dames," Bones speaks up from his spot.

"Wait his girl," Elvis questions. "Why is she comin'?"

"I guess-"

Steven turns around quickly startling the men in the room. He seems calm, yet his eyes give him away; they're wider than normal.

"I'm sorry boys," a hand runs through his hair. "This might seem completely out of character of myself," and was it ever.

"Yeah, we can tell," Jerry mutters. "Why does your girl make you nervous?"

"Huh?"

"Bones had said that your girl was coming," Elvis had said from his spot on the floor.

"And we want to know why you're actin' a nervous mess," Bones continued.

"Well if I'm being honest boys," Steve reluctantly starts. "I'm worried how she would think of y'all, minus Bones."

Well, it's not like you were a judgmental person or anything like that. It's just that you're kind of intimidating in a way.

"What," Elvis says through a small laugh. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Now listen EP," Steve's is laced with seriousness. "This woman is very important to me, she's the best out there for this operation."

"So please behave," he slightly begs.

"But still be yourself, and don't say anything stupid," Bone adds.

"Don't worry my mama taught me better than to disrespect a woman," Elvis says as he sits in a crisscross position.

"Good, 'cause she'll," he takes a glance at his watch. "She'll be here any minute now."

Just as he says that the door is pushed open, with a dark brown heeled boot. And those boots are paired with brown high-waisted pants, a white turtle neck, and a pearl necklace.

"Sorry that I'm late, sweets," the woman closed the door with her heel.

"I had to speed back home to get the stuff that I thought we could use, but then I realized that I had no fuckin' scissors," she dropped the bags full of supplies on the couch next to Jerry.

"So, I had to drive to the store to get scissors, and I realized that we'd might be here a while so I bought myself a silk scarf cause why the hell not, and-"

Steve grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you a bit, to stop her rambling. She had stopped talking as she looked at Steve with wide (e/c) eyes.

"Puff, I'm glad you're here but we have company," his eyes dart to the people behind her.

"Shit," she looked at the men behind her. "Right, my bad y'all." She coughs to clear her throat. "Hello, my name is (Y/N) (L/N)-Binder, and I'll be helping y'all 'cause y'all desperately need it."

"Now excus-"

"And you, white and sideburns," you point to the boy on the floor. "You must be the big Elvis the Pelvis Presly," the boy smirks a bit. "Now I'm not a big fan of yours but I have to admit you have some hip swingn' songs." The woman demonstrates as she moves her hips a bit.

"Well thank you," Elvis trails off, not sure if what the woman had said was a compliment or not.

"It's no problem," she dismisses, she puts her attention on the entire group.

"Now what have we gotten so far hmm?"

Silence

"Have y'all at least started on a song?"

"I mean," Jerry bravely speaks up. "We sort of do," (Y/N)'s sharp (e/c) eyes are basically pinning him to the couch.

"All right let's hear it."

And then the construction begins.

"Alright, the song is done," she sighs in exhaust. " And let me tell you, y'all are by far the hardest people I've worked with."

Jerry and Elvis gawk at the confidence of the women in front of them.

"Now E," the switch from sarcasm to seriousness throws off the boys. "It's quiet obvious to anyone with an IQ of a basic human being, that your career has been nothing but a pile of flaming shit lately."

Steve chokes on a bit on the smoke of his cigarette.

"But with this song and a killer outfit by my design," you can see a child-like excitement spark in Elvis's blue eyes. "You'll bounce back in no time."

"Now," you snap loudly. "How does everyone feel about leather?"

.

.

.

"Good night boys, I'll see your show tomorrow m'kay," you say as you watch the guys leave. Leaving you and Steve in the small room.

You plop your body down on the dark green couch, body slacking once it hits the cushion. A sigh leaves your mouth and your eyes begin to close.

"God, I'm getting old. I've never been that tired in a hot minute," you mutter as you grab your head scarf from your purse.

Steve nonchalantly kneels before you, hands reaching for your boots.

"You're not getting old, you need to stop saying that," he mutters as he unzips your left boot and gently slides it off your foot, hands moving to unzip the right one.

"Oh right, I'm not getting old. I'm aging," your speech is sarcastic. Yet Steve ignores it and places your boots next to the piano.

Steve plops himself on the couch next to you as you wrap your hair with the scarf. The scarf in which looks similar to the ascot that you're husband is wearing around his neck. Once finished you wrap your leg around his waist and your arms around his neck. As if automatically, he wraps an arm around your waist and slides a hand into your back pocket.

"You know what else ages," Steve croons teasingly as he locks eyes with you. You hummed in a curious tone.

"Wine, wine ages," he leans his head forward, lips grazing yours.

"'nd you my darling puff, are some very fine wine~" His lips finally touched yours. Once your lips touch you fight back a smile as his comment registers.

"Oh, Mr. Binder you are the devil in disguise I swear," you're able to say through the onslaught of kisses you're receiving.

"If I'm the devil, you're my angel in disguise," he purrs as he continues his trek of kisses to your neck.

"Okay, now you ruined the mood," you snort as you push his head back slightly.

"Aw whaddya mean," he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"... he's so young sweets, too young."

"I know."

"He looks like a young man but has the eyes of a man who works at an office 9-5. Tired, stressed, yet yearning."

You begin to play with Steve's fingers as you begin to ramble.

"He misses his mama Stevie, he stuck to me like glue. Kept looking at me, as if he was looking for affirmation. Like a child would."

"God Stevie, why do I want someone to look at me like that again?"

Your eyes begin to water as you subconsciously rub your stomach.

Steve frowned at your sadness, he knew you wanted kids. The both of you did. The thought of having a little bundle of y'all's creation running around the house made him smile. Of course y'all have tried but when you went to a doctor the worse news has erased that dream. As an interracial couple adopting a child was harder than it looked, so in the end it was replaced with two fur babies you have at home.

Oh, Harley and June, two energy filled great danes. They're probably sleeping in your shared bed, drooling all over the sheets. The thought of them brings a small to your face.

You look at Steve's blue eyes. Oh, how you love those blue eyes. You cup his cheek, he leans into it, it makes you snort. You peck his lips, once, twice.

"Let's go home Stevie," you hop off his lap. You bend over to grab your boots and bags. Steve of course can't help but take a glance at your ass. Those pants accentuated everything. You pop right back up and turn to Steve, who still sits on the couch looking up at you. "I have to go home and sew a leather suit for a 6'2 man."

Your husband groans as he reluctantly gets up from the couch, standing in front of you.

"Do you ever rest?" His hands grip your hips as he sways them a bit.

"Yes, but only during a full moon," you tease with a smile.

"That tracks," you let out a squeak of a shock. He turns you around and carries you bridal style.

"I'll have you know that I'm working because I want to," your arms automatically curl around his neck. Steve takes the bags from your hands and puts them as far up on his arms as possible.

"Mhmm, puff y'know Harley and June don't need set after set of pajamas, he remarks as you begin to walk out of the office.

"But they're cute~."

[dustfeel]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 (Icarus/Anti Tulpar AU)

Summary:

Life at the Icarus was never easy, everyone seem to be at edge, just waiting to snap and push people around because they feel like it, they've been working together for years though the loathing only gets bigger. Now, things may be getting worse, of course it was a matter of time before Curly got tired of the crew and crashed the ship, and everyone else is losing it.

Chapter 0. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

— ★ —

Icarus — The gold star spaceship, a step into the future — and the hellhole for whoever sorry soul that works there, may even compare to a personal purgatory.

The ship is nice, there's enough food for everyone and the sleeping quarters are comfortable enough to live in. What makes it bad is the crew, despite having been around eachother for years, the disdain only grows and it is mutual between everyone.

Grant Curly, the captain, is a 39 years old man that, even if he's great on his job, is the most insuffearable of them all. "Strict" is the word to describe him well, always have a cigarette between his lips, says he resents Jimmy but refuses to get the guy fired. They're long time friends or something.

Anya Musume, the mechanic, is a 28 years old woman, she's also the most tolerable person on the Icarus. To be honest, she's only REALLY working half of the time, yet everyone seems to like her for her "hard work". No one is safe from her snarky replies — Especially Daisuke and Jimmy — but she's respected a lot, maybe because of the axe she carries with her.

Daisuke Juárez, the actuary, is a 21 years old man — If you can call him that —, after Curly he's the worst. Maybe all those calculations rotted his brain so bad that his mind is forever in the delusion that he's better than any living being. Always holding his clipboard and drinking all the goddamn coffee avaiable on the Icarus, he looks down on every crewmate, but for some reason he overly dislikes Swansea more, which is weird because the old guy may be the only person who likes him for his — shitty — personality. He works a lot and people admire him for that, little do they know he drowns himself into his job to forget how annoying he is.

Swansea Harold, the chef, is a 65 years old man, he's not as mean or rude as the others but he's not a complete saint either, he never bullies or look down on anyone, but he never defend the person when someone else does. He's average level in the kitchen but his calm and sweet persona makes up for it, plus his food tastes better than Pony Express' "Technological innovating organic pre-ready" meals, hell, even cardboard tastes better than that. When he's not at the kitchen, he's helping Jimmy with his tasks. What a nice guy.

Miyuki Nakagami, the nurse, is a 19 years old woman, and the one who's narrating all of this, I'm usually kept to myself, never saw the point in bothering others. People would call me lazy or even a slacker, but I prefer the word "smart", I mean, I spend most of my working hours in the medbay napping, but I get the same salary as someone who never seem to rest like Daisuke — Cry about it, Dai —. I don't talk to people, people don't talk to me, and I prefer to keep it that way, saves me from the headache of trying to keep a conversation going on.

Jimmy Zare, the janitor, is a 38 years old man, he's the main target of bad comments, the easy aim, the crew's punching bag, and a total pain in the ass. He never fights back, maybe that's what make things worse for him since ignoring Anya won't make her stop taunting him. He's a grown man though he flinches when a damn 21 year old judges him with his gaze, seriously, the guy need to grow some balls and stand up for himself — And stop complaining about his problems to someone who isn't his therapist.

These are the Circus' crew, the ones who make life in the Icarus a bit — A lot — harder. Pretty sure the ship could explode and they'd need eachother to survive, but they still wouldn't do and everyone would die and nobody would care.

— ★ —

HELLOOOOO, I'm Dust! This is the prologue for the fanfic, the next chapters will be better and longer since this one was just to introduce the AU and characters, so don't give up on this now. Always open to criticism, sorry if there's any mistakes! See yall next week!

(Anti Tulpar/Icarus AU created by Cosmospaghetti on X. OC content, don't like don't read, it's first pov though, so can be read as reader too. Will follow the storytelling of the game but include a bit of my own headcanons.)

[clochanamarch]

mm tiny tiny tiny ooc post, but you don't have to read this, it's more like. a quiet PSA coupled with an update.

so turns out that i've been so tired and had so many headaches because i've been stressing myself out and lowkey hitting a low period. between not working and having a full audience of judgy neighbours and relatives, i think i've just been pretending it's all peachy for a bit too long.

basically i'm having a weird few days. and i'll come out of it just fine, bc it's just my brain being weird. but right now i might be a bit out of sorts and i need everyone to know that it's not their fault, it's nothing anyone did, it's just. mental health being a little shaky. so just know that i'm gonna be distant for a bit, but it's just a thing i gotta get through, and when i'm finished i'll be back at it again! i just mightn't be too good with dms for a bit.

[my-gender-is-void]

Hello chronic conditions side of Tumblr.

I've been experiencing many symptoms for a very long while (technically all my life but obviously I didn't start paying attention until I was like 12-13) and I don't want to self diagnose but I do know it might be a key part of getting a formal diagnosis, I'm going to list the main symptoms and tell you what I through my research and various legit symptom checkers have concluded I might have.

I am hyper mobile, the orthopaedic told me that when I was like 5 but I never got a formal diagnosis because my parents didn't think it was relevant, however to this day my hip does something weird sometimes when I walk and then hurts afterwards and I have to overstretch it so it stops hurting as much, all of my articulations pop, I've had chronic low back pain since I was like 9 and back pain in general since I was 11, my injuries have a thought time scarring and they scar badly, my hands and feet are generally cold and peripheral blood circulation is kind of a mess, my skin is sensitive and reactive and I get cuts on the less damaging things ever, I have a propensity for bruising and they take a long time to reabsorbe, my pinky and ring finger get numb and tingly when I hold certain stuff (carpal tunnel is on the other 3 fingers I checked), my legs go numb often, sometimes my muscles just feel weak and I'm scared to pick up stuff in case they stop responding. I have a propensity for all kinds of headaches, my gums are also sensitive, I tend to be constipated no matter how much fiber I eat (and yes even if I eat lactose being lactose intolerant I'm still constipated, I just bloat), I have a heat intolerance (I even get rashes if it's too hot out).

I forgot but my ribs feel like they shift when I lay on my side and a couple of times I've had people horrified at something a joint of mine could do (generally my shoulder) and I quite frankly think I almost popped my shoulder out in one of those.

I'm also hypotensive and have a propensity to tachycardia and dizzy spells (or that thing where your vision gets black around the edges) when I stand up and when I do exercise (it doesn't happen when I walk, no matter how fast I do it) and when I exercise I have to stop even if my body doesn't feel tired because I feel like my heart rate is too high but I get cold sweat and shaky hands like it happens when I'm going to pass out. Which I might add I get those symptoms even just sitting sometimes and I have to lay down on the floor or sit with my head between my knees.

I live in a constant state of fatigue no matter how happy I feel, how well I eat or how much I sleep, which I also struggle with sleeping. And the brain fog makes it hard to concentrate.

That fatigue includes my body feeling heavy for no reason at all and being like a zombie all day struggling to even do stuff I want or hang out with friends most days.

The research I first did was regarding the whole hypotension, tachycardia, sport/rest/standing up dizziness fainting thing and honestly every conclusion lead me to POTS as the most likely condition.

That sent me into a rabbit hole of trying to find where the other symptoms where coming from, my search on hypermobility lead me to EDS, particularly H-EDS and honestly I must say a lot of things would make sense but I don't want to self diagnose so what do you guys who suffer any of this conditions have to say? Should I see a professional and just ramble all if my symptoms and see if that gets me somewhere?, or do I have enough of a valid basis to go to a doctor and tell them I suspect I might be suffering from POTS and maybe H-EDS?

Keep in mind I'm from Spain and I can tell you most if not all of the primary care doctors I've gone to have shrugged off all of my symptoms once they checked my heart worked properly in general, they don't even care that I have passed out from low blood pressure during blood draws and have even had convulsions twice after fainting, that and my sensitivity to anesthetics, fuckers just said "you're probably just tired because you're a high school/college/master's degree student", I've gone a fair amount of times since I was 16 and they never check it's always a "maybe it's your period", "maybe you're anemic" (I'm not, my reserves are a bit low but not enough to be considered a deficiency to treat), my blood tests come back well so they couldn't care less, my body weight sits in it's normal range (thankfully, because otherwise I know a good chunk of them would just point to my weight and my period).

Thing is, because I keep overworking myself due to my family situation and I was gifted and I guess that kind of transferred a bit to college, I've finished a degree and I'm on my way to my 3rd master's degree this academic year, and honestly I probably don't complain about the level of pain and tiredness I'm in enough because a) my mother would try to instantly blame it on weight or Physical activity or even just food itself (she's one of those everything you eat is bad, white carbs are the devil incarnate types of person) and I already had an ed for years due to her

b)when I complain about the fatigue my mother tries to one up me and everyone else just advices me to do more sports, spend time with family (no thanks), blame my sleep pattern even though the fatigue is purely physical, tell me I'm over exaggerating or over complaining and that I used to handle pain better as a child (she yelled at me when I complained and told me I couldn't be that tired because I was too young)

I'm going to tell you some more things about me as a child I just now remember my mother complained about: every school day I came complaining that the soles of my feet hurt and my palms too (particularly the right one since I'm right handed) and they'd turn out to be distended. My skin was even more reactive, I was so tired and borderline translucent even when they made me spend all summers at the beach that they took me to the cardiologist several times to check if I had a heart condition and It was working just fine, I experienced headaches almost daily, my immune system was an absolute disgrace, I refused to grip the pencil (scissors and other tools) right because it hurt my fingers, I was always coming home with bruises and injuries that were too extreme for what they would've been for my brother and to reiterate I started complaining about back ache at around 9 years old and of fatigue at 11, and even then me being seemingly constantly tired granted me a couple visits to a doctor to check for leukemia or heart conditions.

I need opinions and people to tell me if there are other conditions I should be researching or if I should just go ahead with the ones I have.

[sickiesope]

ummm can you do one where hoseok has been having like recurring migraines or something and the members are all worried about him?

Here it is anon, I'm so sorry for the wait! My brain's been stuck for awhile but I hope ur still around and it's to your liking! 💜💜

Headsick

Sickie: Hoseok

Caretakers: OT7

Summary: Everything seems to be giving Hobi a headache lately.

The guys are having a fun weekend off and that includes a night of home karaoke along with some drinks. Hoseok was singing and dancing for a good while before his head felt a little dizzy and heavy. He thought it was just the drinks hitting but this was a more painful kind of dizzy. He decided that's enough alcohol for him tonight.

Jungkook and Jimin are racing to chug their drinks with the others chanting "Go! Go! Go!" Hoseok's head hurts just from watching it. Hoseok tries to drink water to balance out. The glass is cold and has a lot of ice in it. He almost wants to hold it up to his forehead but that would be weird. Instead he sinks his face into his cold hands on the table. He flinches when JK and Jimin hastily put down their empty glasses.

"Yah! Careful guys, you're scaring Hobi" Namjoon jokes.

Hoseok forcibly laughs, his voice sounding like a weird smothering echo in his head.

Hoseok wants to enjoy himself, he really does. But this pesky headache is watering it down. He just stares into space with the blurry clamor of Taehyung and Jimin trying to pick a song.

"Hoba you okay?" Yoongi asks him, gently touching his knee.

"Huh? Oh, yeah hyung..I guess I'm just tired" Hoseok sighs. The dancer ended up going to bed earlier that night.

***

Hoseok slept for eleven hours but still woke feeling out of it. He only had two drinks and barely finished the second.

"Hobi hyung, wanna go for a walk?" Jungkook puts on a hoodie.

Hoseok looks outside and his face expression looks less than thrilled at the idea. "Hmm.. I don't think I can.." the dancer mumbles.

"Oh? Are you feeling okay hyung?" JK looks at Hoseok's face. He looks so tired despite sleeping the most.

"Yeah, just a slight headache is all."

"Don't worry hyung, you should rest up. We're gonna be busy again soon."

***

Hoseok's been like this on and off a few days now. He was slow getting ready and really wanted to sleep in. It's warmer out than expected and that seems to be bothering him too. Traffic is heavy and they're moving at a snail's pace. Hoseok is getting that dull pain in his head again. Near his eyebrows he feels it most. Hoseok gently massages the area with his thumbs. When that doesn't feel like enough he uses his knuckles. He doesn't care how funny it might look.

Hoseok keeps sighing and grunting in the back seat and Seokjin glances at him a few times. The eldest wants to ask what's wrong but doesn't want to pry. He assumed it was because Hobi didn't finish his coffee.

"Come on, we're running behind schedule!" their manager calls. The members are speed walking down the hallway after rushing from the car. It all feels like a blur to Hoseok despite his body feeling so heavy.

The rap line have a busy day of recording today and they wanted to stream some of it. Hoseok loves showing the creativity process with the fans and he's usually shining and lighting up the room with his smile. But the lighting in the room itself feels too much.

There it is again.

Everything seems to be giving Hobi a headache lately. It's now a pulsing that radiates throughout and he feels warm.

"Hm, hold on, its lagging" Yoongi said about the phone. Hoseok feels like his brain is lagging. He can't really pay attention with this pain. It feels like he has weights tied at his arms and his head feels like a loud alarm bell with intense ringing in his ears. It hurts. The last thing he needs is to mess up on camera. Nope, not if Hobi can help it. He stands there smiling and nodding as if the light isn't making him feel like a vampire in the sun.

Hoseok wipes his forehead and looks down at the floor. "Hey Hobi, army is up there!" Yoongi points to the camera "they can't see your beautiful face!"

Hoseok lifts his head smiling tightly. He waves and dances for about 10 seconds before the pain behind his eyes gets too much. He quickly turns around and buries his face into Namhoon's broad frame. "Awwh, our Hobi is extra adorable today!" 

Hoseok just stays like that for a minute before peeling away. "Oh uh, sorry Joon" he says sheepishly.

Namjoon looks at Hobi's face. He leans in and whispers "are you alright?"

"Yeah..I'm fine" Hoseok murmurs "slight headache but it's okay." The dancer casually walks away holding one side of his head. He's going just fast enough to escape but not look rushed. But the others still catch on and get concerned for their sunshine. They decide to turn the cam off.

"Hyung, what's wrong?" Namjoon asks.

Hoseok finally caves. "Ugh, I think I have a migraine.. I can't do this.." he says feebly. His head feels like it's shattering inside. "I need to sit down somewhere."

Yoongi takes him to a nearby chair and gives him a fresh water bottle. Namjoon lends him a pair of his sunglasses. It helps a little with the light but the throbbing persists.

"Did you take anything for it hyung?"

"Yeah, but maybe I should've tried something else. I think I feel worse" Hobi groaned. He sinks in the chair and just holds his head. "Ugh, this wasn't part of the plan"

"It's okay hyung, we'll try again when you feel better" Namjoon rubs his back.

"Awwh, the fans are all wishing you well Hoba" Yoongi shows him. Hoseok is warmed by the love and he feels more relaxed.

[amberstormblade]

It's almost 3am here so I'm gonna try my best to make this coherent! TwitchSMP Viking lives in my brain rent free along with about a million other Vikings. Recently, he got messed up in lore! And my brain came up with this idea and wouldn't let it go so here's T!Viking having a really bad time!

Ruby was sick. Ruby was sick. His sister best friend was sick and maybe even dying because some weird fourth dimensional being decided to destroy her body whenever she possessed her. Ruby was sick and Viking was doing his best not to panic but it wasn’t going very well. Especially since his head wouldn’t stop pounding. Part of it could have been that he hadn’t slept properly in days, too concerned that Ruby’s condition would worsen and that they would be left to suffer alone. He also kept thinking through the conversation he’d had with the other Ruby, trying to remember the moments surrounding his blackouts and failing miserably.

That’s what led him here, prepping another round of health potions in a brewing stand while simultaneously making up another batch of soup and trying not to scream as it felt like something was pounding at the inside of his skull. He’d take another potion in a bit and pretend he was fine for Ruby’s sake. He didn’t want to make them worry so it was best to just act as normal as he could until they were better. Once that happened, if he still felt like crap, he’d probably just hide away in some hole somewhere until things were better, more manageable. He laddled some soup into a bowl just as the potions made a gurgling sound, letting him know that they had finished brewing. He quickly chugged one and sighed as it gave him a slight reprieve from the attack in his skull then stowed the other two away to give to Ruby with their meal.

Viking walked the short distance between their houses and knocked on the door before letting himself in. Ruby sitting up and mostly awake was a very welcome sight, as he’d been sleeping most of the time to keep the pain and misery at bay. Gritting his teeth, Viking gave what he hoped to be a reassuring smile as his headache struck again, a sudden sharp pain spreading from his temples to almost behind his eyes. 

“Hey Ruby, how’re you feeling this lovely evening?” He crossed the room to his bed and set the soup in order to grab the potions out. He reached out a hand to feel for a fever and noticed it had gone down quite a bit.

Ruby gave a little cough and cleared their throat. “I’m actually feeling a lot better, I guess bedrest and potions really do wonders for a person. I think I might try stretching my legs for a bit tomorrow. A walk around the beets sounds nice.” They gave Viking a tired smile as they accepted the first potion from him, humming as it took effect.

“Oh? Are you sure you’re ready for something like that? Do you want me to come with you?” The sudden panicked feeling that had overcome him was making it feel like someone was going crazy on a drum in his skull. Viking knew he wouldn’t be able to hide this much longer but he needed to make sure his sister was going to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if she collapsed by herself out in the fields.

She gave a slight laugh. “Since when were you so protective? Besides, I’ll be fine! Vintage is going to be with me. She knows I’ve been sick lately and wants to help keep me company, she’s just been busy. I’m sure you’ve been dying for some free time too, taking care of me for almost an entire week can’t be very fun.”

“Hey now! Don’t put yourself down like that, you’re my-my best friend, of course I’m gonna worry.” He stumbled over his words slightly, almost calling her something else, something that he wouldn’t know how to explain. “I’m here to help you out for as long as you need it, and that’s a promise. If you’re sure you’ll be okay with Vintage tomorrow, I’ll give you two space! I just, I want to make sure that you’ll be okay.” Viking could feel his eyes starting to water. He couldn’t tell if it was because of the conversation, the pain spiking in his head again, or a combination thereof. He cleared his throat and stood up a little too quickly, having to blink spots out of his vision. “You should probably get some more rest, can’t wander the fields while napping now can we!”

Ruby sighed a bit, tired eyes searching him for something they couldn’t quite find. “You better get some rest too! Can’t have you being a hypocrite.” They smirk a bit as they once again snuggle into their bed, soup and potions finished and energy slightly more depleted. “Good night, Viking.” They yawn.

Viking whispers back “Good night, Ruby. May your sleep be dreamless.” Seeing his sister actually comfortable for the first time in days was amazing.

Quietly closing the door behind him, however, he knew he was on a timer now. The potions never seemed to help him for long and the headache was coming back fast. He was starting to panic at the thought of being caught in such a weakened state so he did the only thing he knew. He ran. Passed his house, through the beets, down the hole, passed the cactus, not thinking about anything except needing to get away from any prying eyes, about needing to hide.

For reasons unknown to even himself, he ended up back at the clock tower, the place where things turned for the worst it seems. He’d had headaches before, had moments where he figured someone else had been in control but he wasn’t too worried about it since Vikings help Viking after all. Everything seemed to have shifted after Sapphire knocked him out. The headaches were stronger, more frequent and he felt like he was constantly teetering on the edge of something bigger than himself. The thought that maybe not all Vikings were wanting to be helpful was terrifying. He found himself resisting letting anyone else through but the more he resisted, the worse the pain got. He tried to safely make his way to the bottom of the cavern, not wanting to go in the tower itself and ended up slipping halfway, just barely landing in a pool at the bottom. Quickly crawling out and coughing up the little bit of water he had ingested, he started to shake and curl up into a ball. Something was trying to break out of his head, that was the only explanation for why it was practically killing him. Knowing he was alone down here and that no one would probably come looking for him for a while should have been a relief but it just added an extra level of pain. The first tears started to spill as he began to scream. Thrashing around as though possessed, he accidentally hit his head on a rock causing his vision to go white with the pain. He caught a glimpse of himself in the pool. He didn’t recognize his own reflection, face contorted in agony, skin pale as snow, his eyes almost didn’t seem to be the right color for a second. His own shrieks were echoing back at him and the shadows seemed to laugh and jeer at his misery. At some point, he’d rolled over to an area that was just pure stone, no moss covering it or anything. He pressed his head against the cold slab beneath him and started beating his hands against it to stop them from tearing out his own hair. This went on for ages, a performance of agony for a crowd of ghosts, echoes of a forgotten past cheering as it continued. His voice had died long ago and yet screams still crawled from his throat. Viking could barely move now, it was all he could do to just hold his head and hope it stopped soon. He couldn’t see anymore, vision too blurred and spotted to make anything out. Dry sobs wracked his body as it hopefully came to an end. Maybe the pain was finally gone or maybe he was too far gone to feel it. Either way, unconsciousness came calling and he had not the strength to deny it. As everything finally faded, he swore he heard someone calling his name.

[lazuliquetzal]

The lu age swap hasn't been updated in a while so feel free to ignore this if it's not something you're interested in anymore, but I just read through it and first off, it's hilarious, I love it, amazing, it's so chaotic. I was wondering what your plans were for Four, cause it seems like there's some foreshadowing in there that's pretty interesting!

(Also, with Wild being so young I can't imagine the sort of shenanigans he and Flora would get up to. They would be unstoppable)

Yeah ageswap kind of dropped out of the backlog haha. But I almost always have a plan, haha.

I may or may not pick ageswap up again? Chances are admittedly low, my writer brain has been pinballing lately. I don't consider it abandoned but it functionally may as well be lol.

A snippet, if you're interested:

(Spoilers for ageswap, though again no promises if I'll ever come back to it)

“Four?” Wild asked. His head hurt, and he tried to focus, but his vision blurred in and out.

“Um, yeah! Yeah, that’s me,” Four said, eyes wide.

Wild relaxed into his grip and let Four carry him. Four was safe.

“Hey, buddy,” Four said, snapping his fingers. “Stay with me, okay?”

“Tired.”

“Sorry. I know. Just hold on, okay? Somebody we know should have a potion.”

Wild squinted up at Four. “Don't you have potions?”

Four did not reply.

“Sky gave some to you,” Wild said. “Just yesterday.”

“That does sound like something that happened to me,” Four agreed.

Some niggling thought tried to worm its way to the front of Wild’s groggy mind. He reached a shaky head to rub at his eyes.

“Did you change your shirt?” Wild asked, baffled by the thought. “Why are you wearing green?”

"Don't worry about it."

Wild grumbled. His head was killing him, and he screwed his eyes shut and tucked his face into Four's chest.

It felt like no time at all had passed, but the next time Wild opened his eyes, the sky had changed from a clear blue to an overcast gray. Four was setting him down on the ground.

"Hey, kid."

"Mnnngh?"

"Kid." Four crouched down in front of him, his eyes deadly serious. "I know your head hurts. I'm sorry. But I really need you to listen to me, okay?"

Wild groaned, but he tried his best to sit up. "What?"

"Next time you see me," Four says. "I need you to remind me of something, okay?"

"Remind you?" Wild wondered, trying to think past his throbbing headache.

"I'm safe," Four said. "And I have everything under control. I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"Kind of a weird way to ask for a pep talk," Wild mumbled, rubbing his head.

"You can do that, right?" Four pressed. "Can you remind me of that, later?"

"You have everything under control," Wild repeated.

"Yep! Thanks, kid--aww, crap."

Four stood up. Wild blindly reached for his hand.

"Wait," he said. "Don't go! The others are coming!"

"Sorry," Four said. He reached out to pat Wild's head, and then drew his hand back when he remembered the head injury. "Remind me about what I said, okay? Don't forget!"

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 21: push through (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: and a double update! I wasn't gonna leave y'all with just 700 words and call it a day lmao. I feel like I should be wishing y'all a happy nanowrimo. I've been doing that challenge half my life. it feels weird to have divested myself from it now.

Summary: The training camp continues in spite of the heat. Your concussion makes you feel like you're on a roller coaster.

Warnings and Tags: suggestive themes if you take your glasses off

Words: 3200+

The next day, you nap for two hours after lunchtime and meander your way downstairs. The headache hasn't exactly faded, but if you can just hide it, you can still be in the gym. The question is whether or not you can handle the volume enough for that to be sustainable. Before you even reach the gym, you run directly into a wall.

Or rather, you note once you've caught your balance and your bearings, you run into Tsukishima.

"Oh! Sorry, Tsukishima-san. I guess my brain's not awake yet," you explain with a laugh. "Concussion naps are killer."

Tsukishima—unfazed, the bastard—looks down at you for a moment. Stares, really. You raise an eyebrow at him. "You alright?"

He sighs. "Yeah. Sorry. Bathroom."

…right. "Okay. I'm just gonna—" You sidestep him, move to slink down the hallway behind him, but a hand closes around your wrist suddenly.

"Wait."

"…waiting."

He chews on his words for a moment, avoiding your eyes. "Why did you bother showing up here?"

You flinch, shooting him a wounded look. "Alright, we're being an asshole, I see. Because I'm a manager and managers go to the training camps. Is that a problem?"

"No, I mean—" He lets out a frustrated sigh. "I mean, why are you here when you have a concussion? It's not like anyone would have stopped you from resting at home for the week."

…okay, that's a little better. "I might have been more comfortable, but I wouldn't have been happier. I would've been bored and annoyed and useless." You eye him. You've seen the way he is during practice—tired, lower-key, there to be there. Compared to anyone else on the team, he's certainly taller, and you've heard them talk about how much potential Tsukishima has and just fails to use because he doesn't want to try. "Why are you asking?"

He shrugs. "Just curious."

"You suck at lying. Try again. Why are you asking?"

His left eye twitches a little. "I already answered."

"No, look. You want advice, you get advice, but you have to actually ask me outright. You're not asking why I'm here for no reason. What's your actual problem?"

"I just don't get why everyone on this team tries so hard all the time. You drag yourself to Tokyo even though it sucks, everyone else is putting themselves through penalty after brutal penalty, risking injuries… it's way too much effort for something that's just a club at the end of the day."

Ah.

You get it.

You get it well.

You hum, leaning against the wall. "You're trying to figure out why everyone else is passionate when you aren't."

"I guess."

"I mean, that's a tough one. The weirdest part is that you're lumping me in with the passionate ones when I've spent most of the time since joining the club being actively jealous of everyone else in the club for having something they love doing and doing it. If I could figure out how the hell to have half their energy, I'd do it."

"But you've got the energy to try harder than I would. If I'd gotten a concussion, no one would have seen me for a month. Where does that energy come from?"

You shrug. "I guess… I just… I want to be happy, and I don't want to go home. And now that I'm here, I don't want to feel like I don't need to be here. I can't miss time or not show up and lose to someone who's better than me."

He snorts. "What, do you think you're gonna get overtaken by the other managers or something?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

He gives you a surprised look.

"I mean, you saw those posters Yachi-san made. I don't get passion, I don't know how to be like her, but among the two of us, she's done something amazing for you guys. She is amazing. When there's someone else doing the same job, filling the same role… isn't it normal to not want to lose to them? Isn't it normal to push through the headaches so I can at least stand on equal footing with her?"

"And when they outclass you so hard there's no point in fighting?"

"Then you quit." You shrug. "I'm not saying I want you to, but like… if I didn't think there was any chance of me being good enough to be worth being here at all, I'd just stop showing up and find something else to fill my time. Probably go back to starting fistfights and stuff. In your case, though, it's not like Hinata can be both middle blockers in a lineup. There's something you can do that he can't, and if you actually gave a shit, you could probably shine just as bright in a totally different way. You're way better off than me."

You move past him, down the hall, intent on pushing through the pain. He disappears into the bathroom, and you—

You run smack into Yachi.

"Oh, Yachi-san. Are you also running to the bathroom?"

There's a wounded look in her eyes, and—

Oh.

She heard you.

~

Yachi returns to the gym with you in tow—apparently, she'd only been coming to wake you, since you had mentioned not wanting to keep sleeping until dinner. She also reports to Sensei that your head's still bothering you after your restless nap. Within five minutes of entering the gym, you are kicked out again to chill outside until your headache clears, which means you're also forced to overthink about how she might be interpreting what you had to say about her.

It's not like you said anything bad. Yeah, you sense danger from her in the sense that she's better than you and you need to work hard to justify showing up at all when she's here. Yeah, she's amazing and did amazing things. Those are all compliments.

But…

She looked halfway to crying. She wasn't taking it as a compliment.

You pass the time sitting on the hill outside, watching whichever team just lost a set running up the hill and joining the girls in handing out water bottles and mixing sports drinks for Karasuno as needed. You don't try to avoid Yachi—if anything, you do try to talk to her, but she's clearly avoiding you, and that makes things worse, so after the first few set losses, you stop trying to talk to her and just focus on manager duties.

When one of the other teams comes out, you'll scamper up to their manager(s) and join in—Suzumeda, Shirofuku, Otaki, and Miyanoshita are generally happy for the help after you assure them that your limit right now is that you're not allowed in the gym and not that you can't do anything. They don't let you lift, but they let you pass out bottles and towels, and you take the chance to chat with them and generally fill the time between now and the end of your exile.

It's a little odd that Nekoma doesn't have a manager, so when they lose a set, you take it upon yourself to approach the coach with a sheepish smile.

"Um, excuse me, sir?"

He turns to you, relaxes with a smile. "You're one of Karasuno's girls, right?"

You nod. "I've been exiled from the gym due to my concussion until my headache clears a bit more, and I noticed your team doesn't have a manager. If you'd like, I can help pass out drinks and stuff out here until I'm allowed to rejoin my team? No ulterior motives or anything, I'm just really bored and couldn't stand sleeping upstairs any longer."

He nods his assent, and you excitedly move to handing out drinks at the top of the hill, taking care to make sure you don't miss any Nekoma guys. It's entertainment enough, makes you feel useful despite the headache, and you find the headache quickly fading as you get your mind off it.

You also find a set of intense eyes staring you down. It's Mohawk Guy, the one that seemed to have been friends with Tanaka and Noya. You roll your eyes and make your way over to him, holding out a bottle. "Here. You can just flag me down, it's fine."

He accepts the bottle, stammering with a profuse blush. Much shier than he looks. Interesting. "Uh—t-thank you! It's v-very nice of you to—to—to help out like this!"

You snort. "People really like confusing me for a nice person. I'm just bored, don't get it confused."

"Bored? What are you doing out here instead of with your team, anyway?" one of the other guys—first year, tall as shit, silvery hair, foreign-looking—says.

You shrug. "I've been banned from the gym until the headache clears. Something about don't make your concussion symptoms worse," you say in a mocking tone. "I'll be fine. They're just worried about me being around too much noise. If you ask me, it's louder out here with the cicadas than it could ever be in the gym."

"Concussion? What happened?"

Huh. You kinda figured one of your guys would have mentioned it. You shrug. "Oh, I don't really remember it. Apparently Hinata took my head off with a spike a couple of weeks ago."

"U-um!" Mohawk Guy says suddenly. "H-how did—I mean—what should I—"

You raise an eyebrow, watch him babble in amusement. He gets almost sort of halfway towards a full sentence before Nekoma's libero smacks the back of his head. "You're gonna freak her out. How many times do I have to tell you to be normal?"

You stifle a laugh as the libero turns to you with a bow.

"I'm so sorry about him. He doesn't know how to talk to girls. I think he's trying to ask what to do to recruit a manager to our team. He made a failed effort to recruit a manager a few weeks ago."

You laugh, shake your head. "No worries. I'm used to guys like that. But, you know—" Your eyes slide to Mohawk. "—you'd probably do a better job either sending someone else to ask girls or building yourself up until you can talk to girls without the staring contest to start out. You're pretty intense-looking, and I'm more or less immune to that at this point, but 99.9% of girls are gonna get scared off by that combination and become impossible to recruit."

"T-thank you! Sorry!"

Okay, wow. Yeah, you think the Noya vaccine is the only thing protecting you right now. "No need to apologize. Maybe just like… practice talking to real girls so you don't freeze up like this?"

"How am I supposed to practice talking to girls if girls won't talk to me?" he laments.

"Ah. Good point. I mean, you're talking to me just fine…? Just like, pretend you're talking to a person instead of a goddess or something and you'll be alright."

Giving out girl advice wasn't where you'd hoped to take today, but it works well enough, and it keeps your mind off things with Yachi for a minute, which is nice. When he bows and runs off to re-join his team, you sigh a little. It feels good to be useful, at least.

~

[name] to Noya at 22:01

[name]: level one soba request

Noya: is level one soba the worst or the lightest

[name]: the lightest

[name]: level 100 soba request is like, someone just died or something

Noya: [image attached. Image description: A white handkerchief on top of a lump. A tail and one paw stick out from underneath the cloth.]

Noya: Halloween edition Soba!

Noya: talk about it?

[name]: nah

[name]: but thank you for the soba 

~

Yachi wouldn't talk to you for the rest of the day, or this morning in the bathrooms, or at breakfast. You don't think anyone's noticed, and you do a good job of distracting the other girls before they can notice. This doesn't need to be dramatic. You just… need to clear the air with her. Somehow. When she won't even look at you.

God, you used to be good at talking to people. Where's that skill now?

Anyways, at least Tsukishima's making some kind of progress in his volleyball-related soul-searching. The first indication is a simple question before their set this morning. Coach is doing his pre-set pep talk, reminding the guys of things like it's enough to get a hand on the ball, when Tsukishima speaks up.

"We don't have to stop it?"

It snaps the attention of the rest of the team to him, and you feel the slightest swell of pride at the look in his eyes. You hadn't been particularly invested in whether or not he decided to give a fuck about volleyball—sure, it'd be handy to have his height actually on Karasuno's side, instead of just showing up because he doesn't have anything better to do, but you can't say you had any interest in pushing him one way or another.

That, of course, doesn't mean that you don't notice when he looks a little different during the next set, when his arms go up for a block and he actually looks scary. Fukurodani's ace gets around it, barely, and you listen as his teammates tease him for running away from a block.

He ran away from Tsukishima.

You huff, smile. He'll probably never admit to really trying. You're the same type, after all, but… he's playing differently, just a bit. You know what it looks like to start trying, just a little bit, just so you can figure out whether it's worth trying any harder than that.

He's searching for an answer, and you hope he finds one. Maybe you can find one too, in time.

~

It is in the showers that night that Yachi finally decides to talk to you. She could have picked any time before this, but she chose now, while you're combing some fancy bullshit through your hair courtesy of Kaede, still wrapped up in nothing but a towel, still mostly dripping wet. She marches right up, standing too close.

You suppose it's the first chance you've had to be really alone since the thing, excluding last night's shower run. There's not really much point in there being staged showers for the managers in the same way the guys have to split up shower slots by year to fit everyone in, but it's the first years' turn to shower after the other girls have gone anyway, which really just means it's you and Yachi alone in the showers for as long as you need.

She's in an equal state of undress, standing closer than you thought her capable of with a burning look in her eye. "[s-surname]-san!"³⁶

You frown. The -san is a bit of a downgrade. "Yachi-san?"

"I… I wanted you to know…!" She's got her fist clenched, eye contact unflinching for possibly the first time in her life. It's not a bad look on her. Neither is the towel.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," you try to interrupt, but she stomps her foot and you let her continue.

"I-I don't want to lose to you, either!"

Oh.

"If—if Tsukishima-kun has a different role to fill than Hinata, even though they play the same position, then I don't see why both of us being in the same position means that we can't both be useful!"

You flinch a little. "I wasn't—I'm sorry. You know there's no hard feelings on my end, right?"

"D-do you?" she snaps.

You're going to panic at this rate. You probably fucked things up permanently, the way this is going, but—

"I respect you! I respect you a lot! It made me really happy to hear that you think I'm amazing! But it's important to me that you know that I don't think I'm any better than you, and that I think you're actually way cooler than me, prettier than me, and fit in way better!"

"I'm not—"

"I-I'm not done! You look down on yourself way too much, and it's really frustrating because if you're so cool and still looking down on yourself, what am I, even? I'm not half the manager you are. I wouldn't be pushing through a concussion like this. I'm still learning a bunch of stuff that you seem to just already know somehow even though we started at the same time! I would never have a—an almost-boyfriend, or whatever you have going on with Nishinoya-san. I'd never be able to. I'm basically just here until everyone figures out that I'm not that great and gets annoyed with me, or until they figure out that I'm—that I'm, like, broken or something, and then it's just going to be you left because I won't be able to be around anymore and—"

"Woah, pause, wait, you're not broken, so let's start with that. I said it before, right? There's nothing wrong with you that's any worse than anyone else I know."

"B-but I don't think I'm like you," she insists. She's making a valiant effort to shove down tears, and it's sort of working. "Sometimes I think I can fit in, and I'm just like everyone else, but I know that's not right. Normal people aren't like this. Normal girls aren't like me."

You frown. "I… you seem normal to me, but I guess I'm not seeing things from inside your head."

"I'm sorry if I'm being presumptuous, or pushy, or… I just… I admire you, you know? I don't want you to feel like you're not good enough because of someone like me."

You huff. "I guess that puts us on the same page…? Thanks."

"I don't want to lose to you, either. S-so, let's keep working hard together, okay?"

You stick out a hand for her to shake, scramble to hold up your towel with the other hand. "Alright. Friends?"

She takes it, serious look falling away to a bright smile. "Friends."

36. In editing, I kept nearly fucking up this sentence because I keep a style guide on my character notes for how everyone refers to each other with like, supporting textual evidence/character notes on how in-plot events affect this, so generally any inconsistencies you see in honorific or nickname uses are deliberate decisions.³⁷ I still kept almost fucking this up because Reader is listed in Yachi's note as "[surname]-chan" during this arc and my urge is to match up to the style guide always. She's also one of the only style guides I've gotten up to date since moving into a centralized note-taking platform… I think I mostly just need to strike a fine balance between referring to my notes and trusting myself.

37. For example, during the popsicle scene in chapter four ("Nishinoya!"), the intention is very much "playful indignation" in response to Noya's horrific eating habits. I'm holding back on digging into Reader's honorific usage rules here but I think thinking about these things easily adds twenty minutes onto writing time whenever I include a new character or dynamic where I haven't yet made notes on how one character refers to a specific other character. Honorifics are really fun as a tool for relationship dynamics.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[bugdotpng]

the (not so) fun thing about trying new meds and looking for unpleasant side effects is that for like the first hour i'm sort of just sitting and hyper-analyzing every weird thing my body does. which is quite a lot. but after a few hours, i can say these have been the most obvious side effects from taking journavx (FOR ME):

INCESSANT yawning. it's not so much that i'm more tired than usual i just can't stop fucking yawning

the occasional burst of shivers

light brain fog in that i sorta just zone out randomly and keep losing my train of thought. but take that one with a grain of salt, that might just be the ADHD

very mild itching, so mild in fact that i almost passed it off as my usual itchiness (allergies, overproduction of histamines, etc.) so if you're used to being itchy you might not even notice

and that is SHOCKINGLY it. surprisingly no nausea. had a very mild headache but i get those from doing the most normal everyday shit (like laying on the couch i'm not even kidding) so i'm not gonna count it.

i was only in mild pain when i took it, maybe a 2 or 3? the pain is dulled significantly but i can still tell that it's there. like my body's pointing to it and saying "hey there's pain here" but when i look at it, there's nothing there. it's very hard to describe. also there's almost a bit of like...fuzzy static in place of the pain. which is not bad. not in a nerve pain way, in a "rough carpet rubbing against my skin" way. does any of this make sense.

anyway, verdict after taking one (1) pill for mild pain: it doesn't feel any more effective than taking an 800mg ibuprofen, but this might be better on my stomach in the long run

eager to try it with some more intense pain at some point. though i am pleased that my pain is considerably lower today, especially considering i had PT yesterday. i woke up feeling pretty good and even walked 1.2 miles and my pain is still mild. bad day to try the meds but i'm not really complaining lol

[coolbeanzeaglbones]

Another chapter, yay!

Eaglebones had a massive headache. It was one of those headaches that was dull and then stabbed you.

He was, in his normal fashion, trying to hide it. He was kinda failing at it, as the guy who was sitting next to him was looking at him weird.

Eaglebones was blanking on what his name was, but it definitely started with an ‘S’, something like Sticky or something.

Right now, they were driving down the road after…something. Wait, what was it? What did they just do?

It was something to do with a rogue giant squid? Maybe it was a giant squirrel? Thinking about it made his head hurt even more. He barely suppressed a groan of pain, trying to press the pain out of his brain.

The voices around him were slightly muffled and he felt himself slightly dozing off. He hadn't had a lot of sleep in the last week because of the headaches and it was really starting to get to him.

So, when they stopped at a gas station, he asked if he could go ‘use the sleep'. The commander looked at him weirdly, 

“What?”

“Yeah, can I just use the sleep?”

The commander laughed nervously and looked around, “I don't know what that means.” he muttered, “You know, sleep. Can I use it?” He was trying so hard to explain it.

The commander, was his name the commander? Bones was almost sure it was Captain or something. The captain just stared at him, “Jimmy!”

No, bones did not like Jimmy… Jimmy was the big one, right?

Apparently not, as it was the robot that came into the cockpit of the ‘tram, not the big guy. Well, then who was the big guy?

“Yes?”

“What does ‘use the sleep' mean?” Jimmy, gotta write that down somewhere, looked confused before turning and looking at Eaglebones, “You mean ‘go to sleep’?” Ah, that made more sense, “Yes.” Jimmy's brow furrowed, “Are you feeling okay, Eaglebones? You're being a little…weird.” Eaglebones wanted to know what was happening, but he also had a giant problem with trust, even when it came to close friends, so he just said, “I'm fine, just a bit tired, my head kinda hurts.” Understatement of the century.

Jimmy's eyes lingered on him for a little while more before letting him leave.

Eaglebones retreated to the bunk room and sat in his bunk. What was happening to him? He knew these people were his friends, but he was just was blanking on their names.

He grabbed the notebook that he kept in his locker, everyone had notebooks for songwriting, and flipped to an unused page 

If he kept forgetting their names, he was gonna have to write them down. In the end, the page of the notebook looked something like this:

Mustache man=commander…probably

Robot=Jimmy, definitely Jimmy

Big guy=????

Brace face=I think his name is Sticky, but I'm not 100 percent sure.

(Just call big guy and brace face dude for now until they say their names.)

He closed the notebook and put it under the esoteric dictionary he had stashed in there.

Then he got in bed and tried to sleep, still worried.

XXXXXXXXXXXLINEBREAKXXXXXXXXX

The commander was starting to worry. Eaglebones just said, “Use the sleep” I mean, sure, he hadn't been sleeping, but still. Very curious.

Being the bat commander, you either let Jimmy in on something happening, or Jimmy knew something was up and neglected to tell him which *scoffs* rude.

So after everyone went into the back of the battletram and it was just he and Jimmy, he decided to bring it up, “Hey, did you notice anything ...off about Eaglebones?” he asked, concern lacing his normally nonchalant tone.

Jimmy actually had to do a double take, “Y-yes, sorry, just startled me, but yes, he seems to be out of wits lately. What should we do?”

“Pfft, me? What do you want me to do? You know how he is.” Jimmy nodded.

They came to the agreement that they would watch over him to make sure he was really okay. But something nagging at the commander's mind said that this was just the start of something horrible.

[kheprriverse]

You have to stop making such amazing art. Tumblr is so restricting I can’t possibly reblog it enough /lh But alas. Words also have meaning, right?

Be warned: I may not make any sense because I’m tired <3

Your art is literally so. Inspiring though. Your style is so beautiful and pretty and it’s just somehow— It makes me want to create? Honestly. I’d love to have a style like yours, but also I’m happy with mine! So instead, the inly valid thing to do is EAT YOUR ART AND REBLOG SO MANY TIMES!!! I’m keeping my own style, and building off it: While you and other artists do the same with what you do!

That being said. Your art just makes my day sometimes. Seeing you post gives me such joy and anytime I see the stupid silly (Cedar /Affec) it’s an instant giggling and kicking my feet like a feral child. So much stimming happens, and I literally love every design and thing you come up with. It’s just. Woah <3

My want to eat art is always at a 10/10: Let me consume the heckin heckles out of everything. Like. shredding the entire walls up. Such zoomies from art. Everything about your art most times just feels. Soft and cozy. Makes it feel like home sometimes and probably tastes like. Fluff. (That’s not a taste but whatever. It counts in my brain?) Maybe even like some sweet candy or dish, idek. Tastes aren’t tasting but damn art does arting?

Not only are you a cool and amazing talented artist, you’re also such a cool person beyond that and just so sweet I would just like to hug, yknow? Strangely I feel like I should be like. Somewhat intimidated because COOL PERSON ARTIST WOAH YOU INTERACT WITH ME??!? But also, I’m not… Really that intimidated? I don’t know, feel welcoming, just like the feeling yoir art brings and its just. Comforting?

You and your silly goody personality is so amazing and you’re so talented, I’m gonna flee now back into the ground: Hopefully this made somewhat sense— And that you have a lovely week/day/month— Just time in general!

*descends away*

~ Z

No I won't stop! Only pretty designs and silly guys ✨! (I am also very tired so its all okay. Also apologies if you wanted this answered privately.)

Also I'm gonna cry abkvjadbvjkkdvbad /pos This means so much! I'm very bad with explaining how I feel but I'm gonna try my bets lmao. It makes me so happy to hear that people really like my stuff, AND think I'm a cool person! I want my space to be kinda chill, friendly, etc and I'm very glad that so far I've been doing a pretty good job :'D

tysm again! I'm very glad u like my stuff (and think I'm cool). I woke up a few hours ago with a headache, dizziness, and was just generally feeling kinda bad and couldn't go back to sleep. But seeing this ask has so far made my day 100 times better! I hope the space I provide continues to bring joy (or just general silliness) to you and others <3

(also I'm glad you like my art too. Ive been having weird issues looking @ my own art since December, which I've never had before, so it makes me become a little silly whenever I get a comment on it. Really improves my motivation and lot and helps me continue what I love most: drawing funny guys and beasties :>)

[thefinalwitness]

HELLO i gave myself a horrible two-in-one headache yesterday (tension headache from working on this all night, sinus headache because spring/summer is torturous to me) but i finally got to put that weird fucking oc together. they didnt end up as weird as i was anticipating but this is only their "midway trying to be normal" form so maybe i'll make the true-true form extra fucked up. some other time. i'm tired)

ANYWAY babbling spree: im calling this oc atlas (they/them) for now but i havent 10000% settled on a name. they were a concept and familiar created by venat in the world unsundered, and were what she sent to track meteion when she fled to ultima thule before the final days. they spent 12k years trying to get through to meteion, and in the process were severely "corroded" by the despairing dynamis, until only a shred of their will yet existed in ultima thule.

they use that little bit of will to try and guide the scions and warriors of light when they come to ultima thule; they can't do anything more than call out and try to guide them to meteion. so, besides a spooky extra voice, they don't have much impact on the series of events there.

they're freed with the endsinger's defeat, and use some of their recovering power to save l'aiha, who would have died of her injuries otherwise. they also think she's "adorable" and, upon returning to etheirys, chose to remodel their true form to more resemble her, hence why they look so much like a miqo'te with moth bits. (originally, they'd have looked more like an ancient, and/or just more weird and alien.)

they also have a "disguise/plain miqo'te" form for blending in, but it's... imperfect. main issues are the starry freckles across their body still glow in dim light and darkness, and their eyes are just. VERY bright.

they LOOOOOVE modern etheirys but don't understand a lick of it. <3 ooc theyre a double whammy of "i need a dedicated dancer oc" and "i am ever on the lookout for an oc that i would consider to be l'aiha's wol successor if i retire her at some point". theyre very kind and 'brave' (or, perhaps more accurately, unaware of danger) and they're going through a bit of a Depression post-6.0 because, well, venat is very dead.

despite the 12k years of conflict with meteion, they've always cared about her and are one of her two friends after endwalker (minfilia (yes that minfilia) being the other one. minfie's alive and collecting ancient familiars). atlas therefore spends most of their time in thavnair, helping minfilia tend to those awakened to the echo there during the final days, but will likely begin playing a bigger role in msq now that A Certain Arch Nemesis Of Hydaelyn is back in the picture, sorta, kinda. <3

anyway theyve been stewing in my brain for weeks now, and i only this weekend collected enough little ideas to pin together to make an actual oc. i like them a very normal amount.