#THE ADHD IS MEDICATED BUT NOT ENTIRELY GONE

[orcelito]

Remembered I have an Eyebrow Wound rn and honestly. Hfkshfks I have a doctors appointment tomorrow and I hope they don't comment on it 😭😭😭 like pay no attention to the gash on my eyebrow or my slightly raw nose. Don't even worry about it.

[catfishofoldin99colours]

oh this week is gonna be a BAD time to be off my meds : - )

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[obviouslacking]

medication titration is such a bonkers concept they're like here *throws prescription at your forehead* fuck around with your brain until something sticks, and so you basically have to treat yourself like a weird little science experiment for months

[actuallyverynormalbtw]

i dont like to talk about self-diagnosis because i dont enjoy people making assumptions about me, my illnesses, and my diagnostic status. but i will say:

i have self diagnosed and gone on to be medically validated with an official diagnosis. multiple times actually. i was never wrong about my self-diagnoses.

however, i have been misdiagnosed by professionals FIVE TIMES. and let me tell you, a professional diagnosis being wrong is far more harmful than a self-diagnosis being wrong.

if your self diagnosis is wrong, maybe you used the wrong language or put yourself in a box or now feel invalid and whatnot. but if your professional diagnosis is wrong, it can lead to abuse, medical trauma, panic attacks, issues with medication, even suicide.

i was misdiagnosed with BPD when i was 15 by a psychologist that i spoke to for hardly even 10 minutes. this diagnosis was based on my parent's description of my reactions to abuse, and the diagnosis was used to validate and excuse their abuse.

i was misdiagnosed with MDD when i was 12 and put through several different types of anti-depressants. we never found anything that worked, because it was actually ADHD and dissociation, but i did end up with panic attacks and insomnia all throughout middle/highschool!

when i self-diagnosed with autism however, it saved my life. it took me out of active suicidality because i was able to finally able to accept myself after years of feeling like i am just "being a person wrong". i had the knowledge to accomodate for myself and the language to advocate for myself. this was life changing. even if i was wrong, which i wasnt, i dont see how it couldve caused any harm.

my opinions on self-diagnoses arent black and white, and im not entirely settled on them either, but i do think this is important to understand. doctors and psychologists are not all knowing. we live in a time where we can access thousands of dollars worth of university level education on the internet, even the same exact resources medical students use. plenty of people are capable of interpreting themselves and that information to come to a conclusion about what they are experiencing and what might help.

sure, self-diagnosis might be biased. but a professional is most likely going to be just as biased, and possibly less aware of it. its just silly to use bias as a primary argument when it is an inescapable feature of human psychology. there is a reason ADHD is underdiagnosed in women. there is a reason anxiety disorders are underdiagnosed in men.

an incorrect self-diagnosis wont take away resources or your space in your comminities. but professional misdiagnosis can cause real damage.

(i am not trying to fear-monger about professional diagnosis, moreso responding to the fear-mongering surrounding self-diagnosis)

[cheriladycl01]

I have just got into F1 and it’s fast become my autistic hyperfixation and I’m glad I’ve found writers like you! I was wondering if maybe you could write something for Nico? He’s my favourite! Maybe reader has a bad crash or something similar to your heat fic where reader faints into his arms/ has a febrile seizure from dehydration and heat stroke after a race? Just lots of hurt/comfort. No worries if it doesn’t inspire. Thank you for doing what you do 💕💕

The Toughest Race so Far - Nico Hulkenburg x Driver! Reader

Plot: After one of the toughest races of your life, you and Nico need to have serious conversation about your health.

A/N! 1) I'm hoping i got the right Nico and you didn't want Nico Rosberg! If you did, let me know and I'll right one for Nico Rosberg! 2) As someone with ADHD, i 100% get the hyperfixation and how much it grips you!

You were getting out the car, well trying to and your legs and arms refused to work. It was like they were actually glued to the seat. You just sat there, head ringing not really sure what to do and how to gp forward.

Some of the Stake Team come up to you, checking to see if you were actually alive in the cockpit or if you'd passed out. Your own team hadn't come and found you yet.

They start to try talk to you but nothings going in, and staying in so your communication is ineffective.

You feel void of anything and all the sounds around you are blurring into one. There's a numbness in your hands and legs that is burning but also non-existent, like numbness should be. It was confusing for your mind that had just gone through that uphill battle of a race.

It was like your body was failing on you and you could only sit back and watch it.

Eventually your team, of RedBull come over to you. Not that you could tell the difference between the Stake Suits and the Red Bull ones at this point, faces were just blobs right now and your mind couldn't comprehend colours.

They reach in to help lift you out so your stood up outside the car leant against the body. One of the mechanics has a hand resting on your arm keeping you steady while another reaches to take your helmet off and another goes for you balaclava that's covered in saliva.

However, the minute your legs are left to work for themself with out the support they starts to wobble. Your head starts to spin, and your vision blurs, the last thing you could remember being your body convulsing before you smacked the door where you continued shaking.

"Oh my god! Someone help her!" someone exclaimed as they saw you on the floor and seconds later a medical team that were already on their way heading towards you after being radioed by the team you weren't looking too great.

There were people flooding around you, one of them opened up your race suit that was drenched through.

"Babe?" a voice called as Nico jumped out his car spotting you thrashing on the floor. He himself wasn't feeling great from the heat either but you'd just managed to fight your way from P20 all the way up to P6 to get in the points.

It was probably the drive of your career having set the fastest lap, fastest pit stop and received driver of the day. Despite all the podiums, wins and poles you'd had, this was the drive.

He looked over you as they took you onto the stretcher as you were unresponsive.

"What's wrong with her is she okay?" he asks walking over closer to the medics that were surrounding you.

"We aren't sure but we need to get her to the medical tent right away, please go back to your team!" one of them says while they fit an oxygen mask around your mouth.

Nico spent his entire debrief not really concentrating on what anyone was saying, he wanted to be out of that room as soon as possible and to see how you were doing.

The minute that they concluded what happened in the race and how they can prepare better for hotter races as a team until the FIA but things into place, Nico was out the door as rushing past the Red Bull motorhome that was pretty quiet. They could all tell he was looking for you, and he just knew you were still with the medics from the look on everyone's face.

He rushed into the tent seeing you calmly sleeping but hooked up to a few different machines. The main one an drip, he knew you must be insanely dehydrated, and with your body temperature already struggling to regulate normally he couldn't imagine how much like hell that car felt to you.

"Is she okay?" he asks the nurse that was currently re-doing the braid in your hair that had gotten a little knotty under your helmet.

"Yes, she scared us all but she'll be fine. She's making a speedy recovery thanks to the doctors quickness and efficiency. She lost 6kg in that race which is very dangerous and she didn't drink anything at all during that race, so we've got her on some water and stuff that will pep her up. She had a minor injury to her shoulder where she fell but other than that she's okay. How long have you guys know she struggles to regulate her body temperature?" she explains and asks all in one.

"Since she karted, but she loves the sport to much" he chuckles. You'd talked about this with Nico a lot, you had to train your body harder and be stricter when it came to things like exercise and diets because of the condition.

Nico had said many times that it would be safter for you to stop racing all together but that had caused far to many arguments that he'd ended up on the sofa one to many times over.

He knew you loved racing, because he did as well and he hated when he had to leave the sport when no seat was available. So he knew it was something that wouldn't even be on the table for you to consider but he just wished you would.

For your guys' future, he just wanted you safe and at full health.

"She terrifies me when she gets into that car" he smiles looking down at your peaceful body.

"I can imagine, but ... I'm sure you scare her too. She struggles but I think honesty that makes her a better driver, she knows her limits and breaking points better than anyone. Today was a bade race that I cant see them doing at the same time of year ever again, and there may even be regulation changes that'll help. But ... take it from a career passionate woman. She wont give this up" she smiles to him and he glances down at you with his own smile.

"Oh I know she wont" he grins, taking your hand in his.

"Hey baby" he smiles as he sees your eyes flutter.

"Hey" you say back a little confused, looking around the room your in.

"You fainted and had a seizure" he explains grabbing your hand and rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

"Oh, it was really hot in the car I don't think I ate before the race either because I felt sick!" you offer trying to explain why you were so badly effected.

"You weren't the only one that struggled, Alex, Esteban, Logan and a few others have been down here too. You pushed yourself a lot in that drive, but there's talks of the FIA making some changes for next year!" he explains.

"Mmm, I'm glad their taking action to make it safer for us!" you admit.

"I'm not even going to bother trying to convince you to retire!" he laughs shaking his head.

"We've talked about that before, you know I'm not ready yet. I've been given such a shot in Red Bull!" you smile, knowing he finally understood your view on your career.

"I know, I just worry about you!"

"I worry about you too" you say and pull him down into a kiss.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

[osspial]

thinking a lot about fullmetal alchemist and due to the power of my adhd being medicated i have a lot to say about it

(i finally started reading the manga after having watched FMA:B a few times)

(spoilers below cut)

i didn't really pick up on this before, it's really hitting hard how the core theme of FMA is Hiromu Arakawa trying to process the trauma of growing up in post-war Japan, thinking as a child that their country is just and right and good, and then slowly discovering the extent of Japan's war crimes and the depravity and evil that the country sunk to during the war. (there are MANY. Unit 731 seems particularly relevant to Marcoh's philospher's stone research). and discovering how, at the end of the war, Japan's leadership was fully willing to sacrifice the civilian lives of the entire country to maintain their own personal glory (lots of similarities to The Father's plan to destroy all of Amestris in order to achieve godhood).

and like, in that context, Edward/Alphonse and Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye are such brilliant foils for eachother. both Edward and Roy Mustang are incredibly driven people with no fear of personal pain that are willing to do absolutely anything to achieve their own goals and better Amestris. but Edward is young, and hot-blooded, and a loose cannon, and (at the start) unaware of the evils committed in Amestris's name. and he gets angry when he discovers those. meanwhile, Mustang is older, and more measured and much more constrained by the military hierarchy he's operating in, and he directly helped commit many of the war crimes that Amestris perpetrated. but he's racked with guilt over the innocent lives he's taken, and rather than drifting through Amestris solving problems as they come up (like Edward), he's fully committed to working within Amestris's evil fascist dictatorship and pulling wires behind the scene in order to become the supreme leader of Amestris and make the government more righteous with the full power of an entire country behind him.

I've got less to say about Alphonse and Riza Hawkeye, but they both are committed to Edward/Mustang to the point of death. both Alphonse and Riza are more level-headed than their partners, will do anything to protect them, and have gone through a lot of personal pain in order to help them achieve their ultimate goals. Neither Edward nor Roy would be where they are without Alphonse or Riza's help. Both Alphonse and Riza were active partners in the sins their respective duos committed (human transmutation and war crimes). and, even separated from their partners, both Alphone and Riza are incredibly capable individuals that are more than able to hold their own.

this extends to the character design. look at how Edward and Mustang mirror eachother in their hair (bangs in particular) and angry expression

and look at how Alphonse and Riza mirror eachother -- also in their hair and their large, expressive eyes

what an incredible piece of art. love seeing the amount of love and care that went into this.

(P.S. Royai is like peak relationship goals. i want what they have)

(P.P.S. there's a lot of depictions of common people as honest, good, hardworking, and faithful people that are trapped in horrible machines beyond their control, esp. in the first few chapters (the Leto arc, the mining town arc). i really like how Arakawa goes out of her way to absolve the common people of the sins of their circumstances. it's good stuff)

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi hello! I am a young trans man on a very lose dose of T (0.25 mL/week) that I've been on and off (for reasons beyond my control) for 4 years. I have avoided thinking about getting a hysterectomy specifically because I was under the impression I would be beholden to taking T consistently for the rest of my life if I want to avoid my body screaming at me for not having hormones.

I'm aware you are but a single person and don't possess All Knowledge, but to the best of your knowledge, would it be theoretically possible for me to get a hysterectomy that removes my uterus *only*, that halts the monthly bleeding part of the cycle but leaves the ovaries, and not need to panic about my body going into premature menopause due to entire lack of hormones?

Ideally, I do want to be on T consistently, but ADHD and needing to get represcribed every 6 months make this difficult. One of the things that has caused me the most dysphoria over my life *is* my period (other than my chest, which is why I got top surgery before starting T). I'd love to essentially get rid of that without needing to worry that my inconsistent T will give me further medical problems (other than any problems inherent to... inconsistent T itself 😂), as I already suffer from chronic fatigue, and that's *not* a good bedfellow with menopause 😂

I apologize for the paragraphs, but I wanted to give enough information ^-^ Thanks in advance, and have a great day!

hi anon,

I always feel a bit silly providing very short answers when someone has gone to the trouble of writing so much, but: yes. a hysterectomy is the removal.of the uterus; removing the ovaries is an oophorectomy and in the vast majority of cases only a hysterectomy is performed. because taking the ovaries comes with a hormonal deficit that can be problematic in younger patients, the ovaries are generally left while removing the uterus.

there are exceptions, of course; some people yoink the ovaries as well for health or personal reasons. my mentor actually opted to have his ovaries removed but leave the uterus, leading him and my mother (who had her uterus removed but kept the ovaries) joke that they had one full sterilization between them.

tl;dr that's not just possible, that's literally just what a hysterectomy is.

[steviewashere]

Can't Forget to Love You

Rating: Mature CW: Brief Arguing (But they make up) Tags: Post-Canon, 5+1 Things, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has ADHD, Forgetful Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Insecure Steve Harrington, Self-Esteem Issues, Steve Harrington Has Migraines, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Mild Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Moments in Time, Slice of Life, Guidance Counselor Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Record Shop Owner Eddie Munson, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington

5 times Steve forgets and Eddie helps him remember, 1 time Eddie forgets and Steve helps him remember

Also on AO3 because this is almost 7k words long.

💕—————💕 0 - Prelude

Steve’s memory is selective. He forgets things most of the time, nothing too detrimental, usually. But forgotten nonetheless. It didn’t start with the concussions; though those didn’t help in any way. Ironically, he’s been this way for as long as he could remember. Granted, there’s a few spotty years—ages four and five lost to time, but from six onwards sounds about right.

His mom used to tell him that he only remembers what he wants to. “You forget what you don’t care about,” she told him. Which couldn’t be true, he had thought at the time. But she was pretty on the money for that one. Those words directed at him a couple hours after she had asked him to do the dishes. She was right. He didn’t care about doing the dishes. And so he distracted himself with other things: the television and a couple books he had to read for school (also not cared about, so those were futile distractions) and his action figures. By the time his parents came home from their date night, he had genuinely forgotten.

Though, why would he want to forget things like his car keys? Food in the oven? Medications? He’d leave a room and it’s as if all the things he needed ceased to exist as soon as his back was to them. Or what about the glasses he wears to read? Those go “missing” all the time, but then his friends point out that they’re on his head or they’re hanging loose from the collar of his shirt or they’re literally sitting in front of him on the coffee table.

He just sort of forgets. Truly and honestly. Even when he cares about it. Even when he marks the date on his calendar. Even when he gives a verbal confirmation and then an additional confirmation from an outside source. He should remember. He should be able to trace his steps or make a true promise to those around him. And he feels sort of dumb for all of it.

But he just can’t.

And then Eddie Munson enters his life. And they’re dating. And they’re living together.

And then they’re entangled, legs under blankets, looking out on Indianapolis from their bedroom window. And Steve keeps forgetting anyway.

————— 1 - September, 1995

“Where the fuck are my keys,” he mutters. Steve’s already thrown the couch cushions to the floor. He’d scrounge around his and Eddie’s entire apartment. Gone through each room and ruined their environment. Tossed aside dirty laundry, rummaged through open drawers (and left them open), had slammed kitchen cabinets, and emptied all of his jacket pockets. When the couch proves to be another empty zone—sans the TV remote he couldn’t find last night and a couple loose coins—he groans, frustrated. Exasperated, he shouts, “Where are they?!”

Forgetting—again, always forgetting—that Eddie was asleep in their bedroom. That he had come home late last night. That his clothes were drenched in syrupy alcohol mess from a shaker exploding on him from behind the bar. That he went through the motions: did his laundry, waited until it was all dry, helped Steve with some homework for community classes, ate dinner, and then passed out in bed; face down, legs sprawled, drooling on his arm by the time Steve came in; 3:19am on their alarm clock, set on Eddie’s side—because he remembers what alarms need to be set.

“Babe?” Eddie’s sleep ruffled voice calls out. He’s closer than Steve thought he’d be. He turns around and Eddie’s in the open entryway of the living room. One sock missing and the right leg of his sweatpants rolled up to his knee and sweat stuck hair on his forehead and his naked torso creased from his arms trapped under him, the blanket all wrinkled around. Steve immediately feels bad, checking his watch: 9:20am.

Shit.

“Fuck,” Steve sighs. “God, I’m sorry. I for—“ He can’t help the next sigh that comes from him. Frustrated and taxed. “I’m just trying to find my car keys. And I thought that I’d put them on the hook by the door last night. But then I checked, and they weren’t there. So I went into the kitchen and then I was in the office and I…Maybe I had folded them in with some laundry? I don’t know…I never know, though!” He tosses his hands out to the side. “I’m so fucking dumb, swear it.”

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, scolding without the bite. “You aren’t dumb, Steve.”

“But I am! How do I always forget? How come I can’t just keep my shit together?”

Without preamble, Eddie is crossing the room to him. His hands are warm weights on Steve’s shoulders. Thumbs tracing the ends of his collarbone. Steve sighs into him, not quite boneless, yet not rigid either. He casts his eyes down at Eddie’s chest, vision going blurry.

“Stevie,” Eddie mutters, “how can I help?”

Steve shrugs. He reaches up to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He drops it away when his eyes stop aching. Voice low, “Do you remember where I put them? You’re better at this stuff.”

“I think,” Eddie starts slowly. When Steve finally looks up, Eddie’s face is one of pure concentration. His mouth pursed and his eyes big and thoughtful. He hums. “I think I saw you with them at the dining table. You had set your school bag on the table and the keys clinked down. But then…”

He stops momentarily, still tracing his thumbs over Steve’s chest.

“Then,” he murmurs, “I made you put your stuff away in the bedroom because I was about to eat at the table and don’t like the outside stuff sitting where we have food. So you went in and set your bag somewhere in the room. Do you remember where that was?”

Steve sighs through his nose. “It’s the only thing I remembered, feels like. Found it by the bedroom door, leaning against the side of the dresser. But no keys.”

“Have you looked inside your bag? It might be good to do that,” Eddie suggests gently, “If they aren’t there, I can drive you to where you need to go and I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

And…shit. Steve didn’t even think to look there. He works his way around Eddie and to the front door. His book bag—a brown, leather messenger satchel—sits waiting on the floor. He flips open the top and begins digging through the well of the first pocket. And sure enough, clinking against the couple textbooks he has, is a metal ring with something jagged and sharp dangling from it. Materializing the ring, he dangles it in front of his face.

“Yes!” He exclaims. Looks over his shoulder, wide-eyed and smiling. To see Eddie looking at him already, face fond. “You’re a genius, Eds!” Steve crows, “I would’ve never found ‘em!”

Eddie hums. He comes forward to Steve again and settles a hand in his hair. Fingers stroking over his scalp. “I wouldn’t say I’m a genius, sweetheart. Think I just know you pretty well, yeah? Plus, you would’a found them eventually—given that you’ve torn through every other part of the house.”

Steve grimaces. “Sorry about that, let me clean up and then I’ll—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie brushes off. “You gotta get to class and I’ve got nowhere to be for a while.”

“But you should go back to bed.”

“I’ll take a nap before you get home. Believe me, I always do.”

Steve stands from his spot on the floor. Eye to eye with Eddie. He leans in and pecks him, a chaste thing, but lovely nonetheless. “M’kay,” he mutters against Eddie’s lips. “Can you call me at noon, though? Remind me that I’ve got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my bag. I can’t get takeout for lunch again.”

“You got it,” he agrees. “Get outta here before you’re late.”

Reluctantly, Steve pulls away. Lingers by the door for a brief second and kisses Eddie just one more time, if only to do it. “Don’t pick up anything for dinner. I’m making lasagna tonight.”

“Go, loverboy,” Eddie directs lightly, gently nudging Steve out the door. “I’ll call you and eat your lasagna. But go before you’re late.”

Before Steve leaves, though, Eddie calls out for him one more time. He looks back, because he always will.

“I love you, baby. Remember that,” Eddie says. And Steve’s chest flutters something quick. Something tepid. Something soft in the back of his throat.

“Love you, too.”

————— 2 - Halloween, 1997

Okay…Decorations, check. Costumes…Eddie’s got his and mine’s…Where is mine?

“Christ,” Steve lowly groans. He just got back from class. There’s a bowl of candy sitting on the dining table. Spider webs that threaten to get caught in his hair every time he steps out of their apartment. The complex has a flood of kids for this year and he wants to be awake to hand out Kit-Kats and Sour Patch Kids to all of them. Eddie’ll be home soon and Steve’s sure he’d like to get started on festivities as soon as he gets back. He even promised to pick up a new bottle of Smirnov to go with the leftover Kool-Aid they’ve got going sour in the fridge.

And it looks like he won’t be chugging sugar tonight because he forgot…again.

He goes to their landline, hanging in the hallway. Prays, beyond everything, that Eddie’ll be the one to answer at the bar. The phone rings almost incessantly. Loud. Piercing. Reminding him that he has to contact his boyfriend, his personal backlog of Steve information.

Finally, after the third ring, it’s picked up.

“Halligan’s Bar & Grill, this is Eddie speaking.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathes. “Oh, thank god! I…I need your help with something.”

On the other end, Eddie makes a soft, concerned noise. “You alright, sweetheart? Need me to come home early?”

“No!” He gets out, a little too loud for his liking. “No, shit, nothing like that. Just…” Steve sighs. “I’m frustrated with myself again. I’ve made sure all the decorations are up, ready to go. And the candy’s set to be handed out when you get back. But…Fuck, I can’t find my costume. Have you seen it?”

“Mmm…The Mulder to my Scully. Let’s see…” He clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth three times in quick succession. Before he answers, he cuts himself off. “Hey! I banished you for the night, man! Get the hell outta my bar!” Eddie shouts. Steve can’t help the low chuckle he lets out. And in response, there’s a short snort. “You like that, Stevie? Giggling like a little school girl,” he teases.

“Sure, Eds,” Steve murmurs, unapologetically honest. But…Business, no time for flirting. “So…The costume? I gotta put it on before those kiddos come squealing to our door, y’know? Plus—well, I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

Eddie sighs, long and grieving. “Oh, but my loverboy is calling me,” he whispers, the words reaching down into the butterfly swarm that is Steve’s stomach. “Okay, well…The last time I saw it was this morning, actually. It should be hanging over the side of the porch banister. I washed it this morning with that sensitive laundry soap you bought—just thought about how you were complaining about how itchy the fabric was making you and…I don’t know, thought that I could maybe soften it a bit?”

Steve peeks around the corner, into the living room, and there it is, yup. Through the sliding glass door, that leads to the porch, is his costume. His cheeks flush red hot. He should’ve looked there. The dryer in their apartment’s been acting up lately. Eddie’s been hanging up all the laundry on the porch, the new autumn heat just enough to dry ‘em. Ashamed, Steve murmurs, “Found it. Sorry I bothered you at work.”

A scoff. “Bothered?” Eddie asks incredulously. “More like kept me entertained and level-headed. Swear to god, Steve, I’m one more bad customer away from quitting.”

He hums knowingly. The bar’s not a good place to keep working, Steve especially knows that. Eddie’s been there for a good five years now and the honeymoon phase was over long before he even reached the end of the first year. Day thirty, only a month in, Eddie had come home with his shoulders hiked and a sigh big enough to blow away the sands of time. 

There was a flyer on their coffee table for some start-up cafe down the street, Steve remembers that. At least.

“Maybe you should quit,” Steve suggests. “First of all, I get to keep you all to myself—“

“You get me anyway, Stevie. That’s hardly a reason to quit.”

“Mmm, but I’m greedy,” he teases. “And I like to keep you, so…That should be enough to quit in the first place. But also, I can’t help but notice that flyer that spawned in our living room the other day. Maybe apply there, baby.”

Eddie chortles. “You’re just wanting me there so I can bring you home pumpkin loaf and lattes.”

“Bonus,” Steve amends.

“Touché, Stevie, touché.” Another shout at a customer over what sounds like Eddie’s shoulder. And he sighs, just like he did on day thirty of the bar. “I’ll think about it,” he murmurs, “but I gotta go. Some asshole—“ and he says that with conviction, “—won’t get a cab and go home. I’ve gotta hail him one, boss’ orders. Just get your costume on and remember this especially: I love you and you aren’t bullshit and you’re gonna be so hot tonight that we’ll have to call candy handouts off early. I’m gonna ravage you, baby. Animalistic style.”

Steve giggles. “Startin’ to sound like that Nine Inch Nails song, but I’ll remember. Get home safe, get that vodka, and I’ll make sure the Kool-Aid stays good.”

“Love you, Stevie. Please don’t forget that.”

“Love you, too, Eds. Now go on before you get in trouble and that asshole gets more shitfaced.”

He’s not bullshit. Eddie loves him. But he also loves Mulder.

And Mulder, Steve can now be.

————— 3 - March, 2003

They moved out of Indianapolis at the start of this year. Moved cross-country into an outskirt, suburban area in Portland. A little house; perfect and capable. It was an odd change to make at first, considering they had their apartment since ’89, but the winds of change blew at them, hard enough to send them over state lines.

Though, with March and the rainy season Oregon has to offer, Steve was down for the count with an awful migraine.

It seemed like with the change of season and the change of weather, the migraines were going to be more frequent. Air pressure and the fact they were uphill and…whatever other bullshit garbage a doctor told him long ago. Just like always, he’s forgotten what the words were and what they’ve meant. But they hit him in tidal waves as he lays supine on the tattered, tartan sofa they dragged from the apartment.

Lumpy spots surround the knots of his shoulder blades and lower back. And his head is throbbing. Hard to miss. Hard to forget.

But the current time…he didn’t know when it was. He didn’t know the last time he took medication. He couldn’t remember when he ate or if he did, what it was and if he still had water in his travel bottle. But he couldn’t get up. Couldn’t, even if he tried.

There’s rustling coming from their new home office. Eddie’s probably finishing up his bookshelves, finally. Books being sorted and figures going on display. The guitars hanging on the farthest wall from the door, Steve can almost imagine it. Almost. It’s too hard to really think, let alone function as a person.

“Eds?” He calls out, croaking. The sounds in the other room stop. Suddenly, however, steps are echoing down the hallway, coming around the corner, slapping against the hardwood (meaning Eddie’s barefoot, probably still in his pajamas, having called out from work this morning), and standing thankfully in front of the only window without a curtain. That sunlight had been bothersome, but again, Steve doesn’t think he can move without getting overwhelmingly dizzy. “Eddie,” he murmurs.

Eddie crouches down. His joints popping and crackling like a packet of Pop Rocks. Even makes a few low, measured grunts of discomfort under his breath. But a hand splays itself on Steve’s forehead, cool rings against his skin, dull fingernails carefully scratching his left temple. It’s Eddie’s left hand, then. All the rings. The pig one heaviest. “Yes, sweetheart? What can I do?” He whispers.

Steve winces anyway, eyes squeezing closed impossibly more. The pull of his eyebrows makes pain flare inside his head, down to the roots of top teeth, makes his stomach gurgle with unease. He takes a careful breath through his nostrils. “When’s the last time I had medicine?” He finally musters.

The hand on his forehead twists. Eddie’s thumb folding into the palm of his hand, wrist pointing at his face. He makes a hum of assessment. “Roughly six hours ago, give or take ten minutes. Wouldn’t harm you to take more right now, though. Want some?”

Steve tries to nod, but stops when the heavy weight of Eddie’s hand forces him still. He’s grateful for his presence. Lingering in their home. His weight easy, even his shadow, even his voice. He smells of barely anything: the smallest curl of a cigarette, but also the honey sweetness of their new shampoo. Nothing else. Thankfully.

“Do you have water in your bottle?” Eddie asks him.

The corners of Steve’s eyes sting. “Don’t remember,” he mutters. “Can’t remember anything, Eds. Feel so…I feel so stupid and useless right now.”

Eddie’s right hand smacks softly on his shoulder. “Hey, none of that,” he scolds gently. “It’s okay if you don’t remember, baby. You’re in pain, Steve, that’s okay if that’s all your body can focus on. Let me get your medicine and I’ll refill your water. Probably would be best to get new ice cold fluids in ya.”

Steve hums. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “You think I should eat?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m not sure,” he explains, “just nauseous. Like not enough I couldn’t stomach anything, but just enough to gross me out.”

“Okay,” Eddie whispers, “I’ll get some toast, too. You want just butter or can I slather on some jam? Robin made it from real, very sweet, very delicious strawberries. Might be yummy.”

Despite how shitty his day is, Steve finds himself grinning like a fool. “Go ahead, Eds. Thank you again. You’re a lifesaver.”

Eddie leans more into his space at that. Leaves a barely wet, long kiss between Steve’s eyebrows as if he’s trying to will the discomfort away. “Just stay put and I’ll get you feeling better. Later, I’ll draw you a cooling bath. And even later, we can snuggle, okay? I’ll get you situated and finish up the bit of work I have on our computer and then…you have all of me for the rest of the day.”

“M’kay,” Steve breathes, “love you.”

“Love you, too. Don’t forget that.”

Even if Steve’s brain goes haywire well into his life, like it almost is everyday, he truly believes he’ll always remember that. In the soft touches. In the exchange of words. In the kiss to his forehead and the cold water pressed into his hand and the perfectly jammed-up toast. Eddie loves him, Steve will always know.

————— 4 - January, 2008

“Steve!” Eddie screams as his greeting. He’s just got home. The front door just shut behind him. And Steve doesn’t know what he did, but Eddie rarely yells at him. And his heart drops immediately out of his ass and to his feet.

He appears from the office. Glasses perched low on his nose. Hair wild like it’s been tugged at. Hands shaking from how much caffeine he’s had. His head is pulsing something low and his stomach is flipping nauseously and he barely slept. God, he slept only two hours last night. Things are amping up for him, meetings with parents and social workers and principals, counselors like him—his schooling having prepped him for IEPs and students who need assistance. But it’s taking a toll. And he doesn’t have time for this.

“What, Eddie?! I’m about to log on to another meeting, why are you screaming at me?!”

“You’ve been at home all day, right?”

Steve sighs. Snippy, he responds, “Yes, Eddie. You know I have. Woke up at like five this morning and have been working since. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Eddie levels him with a wide-eyed, furious stare. His cheeks are pulled hollow from the pinch of his lips. Arms crossed tight over his chest, fingers white-knuckled where he grips to his biceps, feet popped out. “You’re kidding,” he comments dryly. “Tell me you’re joking, Steve.”

“What’s wrong?” He repeats. Checks his watch. “Five minutes, Eds. I’ve got five minutes and I’m itching for another coffee. Spill.”

“So, Wayne’s got our daughter right now,” Eddie states lowly. His voice is tight and thinning by the second. Shoulders tensing. “Lilly’s apparently been waiting at daycare for…mmm, what did the administrator say? She sat on the curb with her too big pink backpack, hair wild, covered in marker stains from a couple of kids who took their anger out on her. She sat on the curb for three hours. Waiting.”

“Three hours? Well, what the hell, Eddie? Why didn’t you—“

“It was your day,” Eddie bites, “Your day to get our kiddo and she was a snotty, bubbling mess when I had to get her last minute. I got the call while I was unloading the new record delivery at my shop. Got the inventory page out, trying to manage new hires, talk circles around the dumbass delivery driver. And just as I was about to fucking explode, I get the call.

“So, answer me this, Steve. Why did our daughter wait three hours? You were supposed to get her on your lunch break.”

“I…” Steve’s chest stutters. His jaw drops wide. Shoulders tight, hands shaking impossibly more. “I…Oh my god, I didn’t have lunch. I didn’t…The meetings just kept coming and I wasn’t reminded to get a lunch break from my boss, so I didn’t leave the house. And I…Oh god.”

At that, the tension snaps in him. He places his tremor riddled palms over his eyes. Pressing in as hard as he can, enough that his vision spots with black and maroon and blue. He sobs dryly.

“I forgot our daughter,” he squeaks out. Hands still over his face. Throat drying and face heating. “Our little four year old daughter. I just fucking forgot her. What the…What’s fucking wrong with me?”

“Steve, knock it off,” Eddie warns low. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. I hate when you talk like that.”

“I forgot our daughter!” Steve shouts, “I forgot her just like my parents forgot me! What, because I was fucking working?! Oh my god! Nothing is more important than her and I just…I’m the worst fucking parent to ever exist.”

“Hey!” Eddie snaps back. “I just said knock it off.”

Steve draws his face from his hands and levels Eddie with his own stare. Hope it conveys all the self-hatred piled deep within him. The factual part of him labeled: Major Fuck Up. Even the bit of anger that burbles in him.

“My mom used to tell me that people only forget when they don’t care,” Steve states lowly. Deep in him like gravel nestled in tires. “Maybe I am just like her. Just like my dad. Maybe I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t care. I mean…Who picks work over their own children?”

“You didn’t pick,” Eddie admonishes. “You were stressed and busy, as was I. I know that you’re a good father, Steve. You wouldn’t worry so bad right now otherwise—“

“I forgot,” he mutters. His chest is hollow. Kind of feels like he’s going to puke. He can’t believe himself right now. “I need…I’m gonna tell my boss a family emergency came up. I can’t…Just leave me alone right now. Don’t try and lie to me about this shit.”

Eddie scoffs. Follows in a quick pursuit as Steve begins to retreat to their office. “I’m not lying, Steve. You’re not a bad dad, I’m not lying about that. I’m not—“ Steve slams the office door in his face before he can try and get any closer.

And he makes do on what he said. Calls his boss. Makes up a lame excuse. And then he slithers back out to their bedroom, where Eddie isn’t, and curls up on his left side over their comforter. Stares at the wall, thinking. Too hard. He always thinks too hard. Maybe that’s why he forgot. Maybe he forgot because his brain was elsewhere.

But he cares about their little Lilly. He cares about her more than he cares about himself most days. No, he knows he cares more about her more than he cares about himself all the time. She’s their baby. Their little ball of sunshine. And he let her down. Just like his parents let him down.

How did I let myself forget, he can’t help but linger on, who forgets their own child?

Later, Eddie joins him in their bed. Laying on his back. Space between them. Not touching. Not speaking. Barely breathing.

Until he whispers, “She’s spending the night with Wayne. ’T’s Friday, so maybe he’ll grant us the free time and keep her all weekend.”

Steve sniffs. Says nothing. Doesn’t move.

“I spoke to her,” Eddie states louder, “she’s a little mad, I’ll be honest. But she understands. She knew you had a long day. Said that she had a long day, too.”

“Yeah,” Steve wetly murmurs, “and I sure as hell didn’t help her with that. I wouldn’t be surprised if she shunned me, Eds. If she told me…If she told me what I’ve known all along.”

“Steve,” he hears whispered. “Baby, look at me.”

“No,” he stubbornly refuses. “Just tell me the truth and get it over with and I’ll…Fuck, I don’t what I’ll do. Don’t lie to me.”

Eddie turns, then. His arms wrapping hesitantly around Steve’s waist, dragging him in. Steve can only squeeze his eyes shut, breathe brokenly through his nose, try and think of somewhere else to be. But he lays his hands over Eddie’s anyway. He always will.

“I’m not surprised you forgot,” Eddie murmurs, “I’ll…Let me be more honest, okay? I talked to your boss—“

“Eddie—“

“I talked to her,” Eddie takes over, voice nearly stern, “And she told me that you’ve been sitting at that damn computer for twelve hours. Twelve, Steve. That’s insane. You need to know that. That’s insane. You’ve been on speed dial all day. You’ve been stuttering over your words. You had six cups of coffee before noon. Baby, that’s fucking—

“You’re insane, Steve. I don’t understand you sometimes, I’ll admit. But I understand truly, deeply that you never intend to forget. Never. I should’ve called you. Or—Or we should’ve just had Wayne get her, we knew today was busy, and yet we self-sabotaged. It’s my fault, too. It’s not just you. Baby, Stevie, we aren’t bad parents because life got in the way.

“Shit happens, Steve.

“You’re not a bad father for forgetting one time. And we know what doesn’t work now. We know what we need to do next time. We’ll do better.” He shifts again. Legs intertwining with Steve’s. Arms squeezing his stomach. Chin digging into his right shoulder. His words are murmured directly into Steve’s ear. “I’m sorry for getting so angry, sweetheart. I reacted before taking in the situation. I’m sorry for screaming, that wasn’t nice.”

“But it was deserved,” Steve mutters blankly.

Eddie tuts, turns, and lands a chaste kiss to his cheek. Drags his right hand fingers up Steve’s torso, grips his chin, and makes them look at one another. He makes a soft, sympathetic noise. Thumb going to run under Steve’s eyes.

“How long did you sleep last night?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Steve…”

“Two hours,” he finally murmurs, “I just was so fucking nervous and I couldn’t relax at all and so I just did a bunch of cleaning up until I passed out on the sofa and then I got ready for work. And…Well, now you know what happened.”

Eddie breathes sharp through his nose. “I think we need a break from work,” he states calmly, “I don’t like what it’s doing. Stressing you out this bad.” He cups Steve’s face with his one hand. Traces over his bottom lip. “Imagine what happens if it just keeps stressing you out. We don’t need a repeat of that stomach ulcer from your last year of school.”

Steve rolls his eyes and scoffs. “God, don’t remind me of that. I’d rather forget that shit.” Though, he softens then. Gazing back at Eddie. “You really think I’m a good parent? Despite…”

“One hundred percent, loverboy. And don’t doubt that for a second.”

For the first time that day, Steve smiles. No teeth, just lips. Eyes half-lidded. Sleep creeping in on him. “Okay, fine,” he relents gently. “We just need a better plan for next time.”

Eddie nods. “Yup, that we do. And Steve?” They gaze at each other again. “Don’t forget the other important thing, okay? I love you to the center of the universe and back. Despite this, I love you.”

“Love you more, Eds.”

He chuckles, “Oh, Stevie…Don’t play this game with me.” His fingers gently trace Steve’s hairline. “We’ll be here all night and we won’t get any beauty sleep. Just rest now, alright? I’ll order us some pizza when you get up.”

“I’m gonna ruin my schedule.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember to get you up before then.”

Though, in a series of firsts, Eddie didn’t wake him up. And his schedule was definitely ruined. But they got a weekend to themselves and a vacation planned for the next one.

————— 5 - December, 2016

Marriage. That was a word.

Marriage.

And Steve’s about to experience it—legally. Sure, he and Eddie had been “married” for the better part of twenty-five years or so. But it wasn’t authorized by anybody. And they hadn’t tied the knot when Massachusetts allowed it, life having been hectic and the fact they had moved not too long before that information was shared. So, they chose to wait. By god was it going to be a good day.

Except, of course, something was going to go awry. At first, Steve thought it’d be that the cake wouldn’t be delivered to the wedding on time. Then, there was the fiasco in which a strap snapped off of Nancy’s bridesmaid dress. And then Jonathan dropped his camera, had to rush away to get a new one.

But this one was marginally more embarrassing than any of those.

They made it through the ceremony, the reception, and the goodbyes. Alone time, at last. Alone time in their honeymoon suite, my that sounded good, Steve thought.

Then, right as he was one foot out the door, Eddie laughed something hysterical behind him.

He whipped around, wide-eyed, giggling. “What?” He breathes. “Why’re you laughing so hard, honey?”

Eddie brought his left hand to his face, that new ring in his collection glinting nice and bright for the whole world to see, and wiped away his fast falling happy tears. “Baby, you’re forgetting something really important.”

For a moment, hot white shame flooded through Steve. He scowled. “Hey,” he snipped, “that’s not funny. You know I’m bad at remembering.”

He was leveled with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. There were deep smile lines stretching around Eddie’s face. His crow’s feet were finer. Hair wispy at his temples and grey. Steve couldn’t be mad any longer, it was impossible to be in the face of somebody so painstakingly attractive.

“It’s breezy in here,” Eddie commented suddenly. “Right? It’s like there’s an open window or something.”

Steve placed his hands on his hips. Scowled again. “What does that have to do with anything, Eds?”

“Mm…the fresh, winter air. Snowflakes on the roof. Ice on the roads. Children dressed in puffer jackets, styling snowmen. Icicles ready to be licked. You don’t feel that chill?”

“Eddie,” Steve grumbled, “we’re going to miss our cab if you keep running me around in circles. What does the breeze—“ And then he felt it. Really felt it. A chill. A quick little gust of thirty-one Fahrenheit wind tickling his legs. But…That didn’t make sense. He was wearing pants. Sweatpants. Dressed down for the suite.

…Right?

He looked down, flushing deeper than he ever thought possible. The crimson could’ve touched his toes if he gave it the chance. Because what greeted him was a plain black t-shirt and his green boxers and a pair of white Nike socks. And, low and behold, no pants. Nada. Zilch. Zero. He was pants-less and Eddie was cackling his bony ass off.

“What the?! Why didn’t you tell me I was close to mooning the neighborhood, Eds?”

“I thought you would’a noticed,” Eddie wheezes. He takes a chortled breath. “I just don’t get you, sweetheart. How does somebody forget pants?”

“I’m excited!” Steve attempted to defend, “I want to get places faster, do sexy things to you, celebrate! I thought I had pants on!” Though, if he really thought about it, he does remember getting briefly distracted after undressing from his tux. Eddie’s tongue down his throat. Calloused fingers on his softened waist. Whimpered moans.

He was distracted, that’s his alibi.

“As much as I love you naked—“ Which Steve wasn’t, so Eddie made no sense. “—Your beautiful legs and beautiful body and that fat ass of yours are for our rose petal covered bed and my future hard-on. Can you grab some pants really quick? They should be in the duffel where you grabbed the shirt. Which…Sorry to make fun, but it seems like you remembered that, loverboy.”

Steve rolls his eyes and marches over to the duffel bag. There’s his sweatpants when he gets the zipper undone. The sweatpants that should be on his stupid legs. “Just for laughing, I’m making you watch me work myself up and you don’t get to touch.”

Eddie positively whines. “Oh, come on,” he wheedles, “just a little touch. Just a—A morsel, kind sir. A tap? A love tap to that divine tiered masterpiece below your back?”

“Want me to revoke watching privileges? I’ll just make you listen. Maybe I’ll be quiet this time,” he huffs, pulling his pants up. “Could blindfold you with your own hair, dipshit.”

Another loud cackle. “Okay,” Eddie sighs, “I’m sorry.” He strides over and kisses Steve quick. One to his forehead. One to the underside of his jaw. On his lips. The moles on his neck. If they continue, Steve won’t have a clean pair of pants to put on. And he’s not a teenager, so he won’t be creaming any pants anytime soon. So, he pushes Eddie away, albeit reluctantly, and smirks. Eddie leans in again, though, murmurs wetly in Steve’s ear, “I love you, sweetheart. Despite how goofy you are, I love you.”

And despite the mild irritation Steve is simmering in his veins, he can’t help but be lovestruck. “I love you, Eds. How about I show you, yeah?”

“Ooo, I get to watch?”

“Tell me you love me again and maybe I’ll let you touch, too.”

By the time they make it to their hotel, Eddie’s voice is hoarse. And Steve’s body is thoroughly detailed by Eddie’s nimble fingers.

————— +1 - November, 1986

Of all the people Eddie expected to see on the other side of the trailer’s door, it was not Steve Harrington. Especially on a random Wednesday. At 5pm. With a shy glint to his eyes. Maybe he should’ve expected to see him, though, considering how they’re somehow friends. Even with the miles of differences between them. And it’s nice, too, that the guy is a respectable human being. And with the extra bonus of being attractive. And with the even bigger bonus of stealing Eddie’s heart.

“Oh, hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets. “What brings you ‘round these parts?”

In one quick motion, Steve thrusts something into Eddie’s field of vision. It’s a denim thing, that much he can tell. But it’s all balled up awkwardly, almost like Steve doesn’t want him to see. “I brought this back for you. Thought you wouldn’t be able to live without it.”

He takes the denim thing from Steve and carefully unfolds it.

Between his hands is his loved, cherished, battle vest. All the patches intact. Not a single pin out of place. And, most importantly, no longer stained with blood and gore. It’s been cleaned. It’s been returned. 

“I almost forgot about this,” he murmurs, “how did you—“

“I, funny enough, also almost forgot about it. But I found it in a pile of clothes from March. Thought I’d try to get the stains and things out. Washed it by hand in my bathtub. Used all the tips and tricks I got from…Honestly, Robin and Nancy helped me out with the blood. Y’know, time of the month things.” Eddie nods in slow understanding as Steve explains himself into a breathless stupor. Then, he takes a deep breath. Shifts nervously. “Just thought it would be nice for you to have it back. Means a lot to you, I’m sure. I—uh—I worked my own sewing skills on there and repaired a few loose strings. Hope that’s okay.”

Eddie’s eyes comically widen. And he kind of wants to cry.

“This is so…God, Steve.” He holds the vest limply in his hands, closer to himself, admiring it. “Sweetheart, this is wonderful. I was worried it got lost in all that mess.”

Steve shrugs as if he isn’t rocking Eddie’s world. “I remembered to keep it safe. Which is crazy, I normally forget everything within the first few seconds.”

Chuckling, Eddie states, “Well, you did that. You kept it safe.” He looks up, eyes misty and smile soft. “Thank you. Seriously, Steve. Thank you.”

But, before he ushers Steve inside. Before he promises beer and a movie and some music Steve probably wouldn’t like, a lightbulb goes off over his head. “You just jogged my memory of something,” Eddie relays. “Wait right here, alright? I’ve got something for you.”

In haste, Eddie rushes back to his bedroom. Settles his vest neatly over his dresser, despite the haphazard lops and hills of mess in his room, and begins to dig through said mess for his gift. Within just a few minutes, Eddie pulls up a soft, yellow sweater from the corner of his closet. As gently as he can, he folds it up in his hands and carries it back to the front door.

Steve’s still waiting there. His honey sweet eyes looking up expectantly, eyebrows raising when he spots the item in Eddie’s hands. So he hands it over. Watches it unfold in Steve’s grip. And how his smile gets wobbly, cheeks flush magenta, and his eyes go misty with it. “Where the hell did you get this?” Steve wetly asks.

Eddie gives his own nonchalant shrug. “It’s not the same one,” he admits honestly. “But you looked too nice in yellow to not have a sweater like that again. So I thought…Hey, Steve can have the one Wayne gave me, the one that didn’t fit quite right. It’s a hand-me-down, so it’s maybe not as special, but—“

“I love it,” Steve swears breathlessly. “Are you kidding me? My new buddy gave me a sentimental sweater, one that looks like one that I loved with my whole heart, and I get to keep it? Eddie, I love this so much. Man, I love you.”

Choosing to not say anything, he lets Steve ooh and ahh at the sweater a moment longer. Then, he ushers them inside. Gets them beer. Puts in a movie.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie calls softly. Steve is sitting next to him on the couch, head lolled on the back to look over. “I’m gonna give you something to remember, that okay?”

“I can’t promise that I won’t forget.”

Simply, Eddie shrugs again, leans in close. And, though there’s an undercurrent of fear rippling through him, he kisses Steve. A sweet thing. A chaste thing. But one that he hopes conveys everything under the sun. And when he pulls back, Steve is shocked into dreamy silence. His cheeks are flushed pink. Eyes a bit glazed over. Smile stretching softly.

“One more thing?” Eddie asks; Steve just bobbles his head, too caught up. “You’re a loved, loved man. And I’m going to remind you that until the day we die.”

“All because of a vest,” Steve sighs.

“Sure, Stevie. Because of a vest. But maybe…y’know, if you’re willing…maybe it’s because I just want to love you.”

Steve hums sweetly at that. “Love me, then. Another kiss?”

“You got it, loverboy.”

💕—————💕

[fandomhype]

Plagiarism Somerton

I obviously didn't watch the new James Somerton apology video ON his channel because I did not want to give that man the views and you shouldn't either! It has been re-uploaded and summarised elsewhere so that he doesn't benefit if anyone wants to see it.

The original hbomberguy video was wild to me because of all the stealing, I found it highly entertaining, loved all the Memes and it honestly did my imposter syndrome wonders! but then I watched the Todd in the shadows video and it really upset me.

He didn't just steal from other LGBT creators he lied to his mostly young LGBT audiance who were looking to an elder gay for guidance and to learn about their history.

Todd's video starts with a clip of James lies being spread by another person on a podcast, there's clips of people discussing his made up gay nazi fanfic he has presented as hard facts. He actively harmed his own community for cash! There are young gay men bringing that subject up in conversation being laughed at for falling for it and that leaves a really bad taste in my mouth.

Now I'm not a part of that community but a lot of people I love are so that angered me a lot.

...and then he comes back with another apology video, conveniently within the three months he would have had to post something on his channel to retain his monetisation status weirdly?! In which he blames both a head injury and his ADHD for his theft - at no point does he address the lying in either apology video or any of the apology posts he made that I could find.

I have combined ADHD, when I was first diagnosed the NHS referred to it as ADD with Hyperactivity element but everyone seems to have gone back to calling it ADHD and that is the term used most commonly online so that is what I refer to it is as.

I am medicated but there has been a world wide shortage of my medication and I was without it for some time over winter, which was HELL! I got nothing done.

I am in no way a big creator, Youtube for me is a fun wee hobby that will hopefully grow and allow me to collaborate with other people with similar interests but ADHD is for sure a large part of my journey as a creator.

I've published like 7 videos and currently have around 10 being worked on because, you know... ADHD! *siren noises*

I know that I am forgetful sometimes, just for the record I also had several head injuries and concussions as a child because Lil undiagnosed at the time me truly had no fear of climbing or other dangerous activities so I have my script (because free talking a subject with this brain would be nearly impossible) open in one google doc and my research open in another. It's not hard.

That's the way it was at school, college and Uni too. James claims he went to Uni to do business. Every university uses anti-plagerism software for essays and has done since like the mid 2000's? so he knows not to copy pasta. He's straight up lying there.

Another thing he's lying about is his ADHD making him forget he copied things. Now if you tell me a joke that I like it'll stick in my head and I will straight up tell it as my own later, I've been called out for this many times! But entire articles? whole sections of other peoples videos? (he also flipped a fan Vid he had ripped off of another YouTube to avoid detection and tried to pass it off as his own) No that's not something you can accidentally do even with a swiss cheese brain like mine.

Weirdly all the the paragraphs James claims he accidentally copied were also edited to remove aspects of the Trans, Bi and Ace experiences that James markedly does not believe exist. Strange considering he accidentally copied them and assumed they were his own words? Imagine going back through a paragraph you think you wrote yesterday in the edit the next day and finding swarths of things you don't agree with there?!

Why am I telling you all this? Well because I wanted to put my two cents in as a creator with this condition, partly because I felt it was somewhat of an attack on us!? He's put it out there that ADHD creators are liable to steal from others and that's not ok by me. Also I just really like the sound of my own typing!

TL;DR : James Sommerton is a suck ass liar and he doesn't get to use his disability as an excuse for what he did! and...

****** ADHD DOES NOT MAKE YOU STEAL SHIT!!! ******

Also watch Todd's Vid, everyone saw the Hbomberguy one but this one goes deeper:

[bluemoonscape]

*steeples my fingers evilly* so. alien stage transgener?

my question for you is, out of the main six alnst cast, what are your main headcanons for them whether that be neurodiversity, disability (love our canon disabled queen hyuna), sexuality/romantic orientation, etc? i want to know your thoughts but feel free not to answer this. after all i am unhinged 👁️👄👁️

drink water and eat a food if you haven't in at least two hours blue or I am going to get you

*nods solemnly* alien stage transgener

HEHEHEHE I LOVE HEADCANON QUESTIONS AND I'M GOING TO TURN AROUND AND IMMEDIATELY ASK YOU WHAT YOURS ARE AFTER I POST THIS

For one, I know Vivinos said that the whole cast can be interpreted as bisexual unless further specified, and I accept that for Till, Mizi, Hyuna, and Luka, but Ivan and Sua. I. I cannot comprehend them with anyone of the opposite sex. The thought of Ivan being attracted to a girl or Sua being attracted to a guy is hilarious to me, like no, that's King Yaoi and Queen Yuri your honor. They're mlm/wlw hostility in my head

TILL IS MY LITTLE BABY PRINCE AND HE'S THE ONE OF THE SIX I DECIDED TO PROJECT MY PROBLEMS ONTO <33 so he's neurodivergent asf in my head. You cannot tell me he doesn't have the tism. He and Ivan bicker because they have contrasting flavors of autism. I also love a Till with adhd because look at him of course he has adhd

Ivan's entire arc is literally just "this is how masking my autism ruined my life gone wrong gone sexual." He and Mizi bond over their special interests except their special interests are whole ass human beings. I could see Luka having OCD and antisocial personality disorder, both which could've developed due to the aliens casually exploiting his medical problems and traumatizing him. MIZI HAS ABANDONMENT ISSUES BECAUSE SHE FEELS ABANDONED BY HER ALIEN FAMILY AND ABANDONED BY HER GOD HELLO. I WISH I HAD SOME MORE PROFOUND HEADCANONS FOR HYUNA BUT I JUST IMAGINE THE MOST FUNNY UNSERIOUS STUFF. For a more serious one I love the idea of her and Till having a cute brother-sister like bond (mostly just hyuna pestering till) (cas and nyx coded) before she left Anakt Garden because 1) their personalities fit well, and 2) ADDS MORE LAYERS TO ROUND 7

Okay I'm done yapping now

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking about how happy I am that I switched medications and discussing side effects I had?

CW for mention of eating disorders and vomiting

Sorry if that question is phrased weirdly.

I (F24) am in a fandom Discord server with about 50 or so people in it. I'm friends with a few of the people in the server, but the rest are just sort of acquaintances that I sometimes talk to.

We have the usual non-fandom areas for talking, sharing pictures, a vent channel, etc. There's also a sort-of vent channel that's more for discussing life stuff and getting advice.

We were talking about medications for depression/anxiety and I basically said "Yeah I used to be on SSRI's but stopped because of a few specific side effects, and then when I finally switched to a non-SSRI and realized that it was MASSIVELY fucking with my appetite to the point of causing severe binge eating issues."

The person (who was asking if we had experience with any meds) asked what I meant, so I told them how obsessed with food I was, how I would wait until my parents went to bed (I live with them because fuck this economy) and then go around the house looking for candy, I could eat an entire bag of chips in one night, and one night ate so much candy to the point I got sick and vomited.

I told them that once I started Vyvance for my ADHD the issue improved quite a bit (turns out it's used to treat binge eating disorders), but now that I'm not on a SSRI my appetite and relationship with food is actually normal.

I'm not constantly thinking about food 24/7, I would actually feel full after eating a meal, and I'm no longer having extreme cravings for sugar and salty stuff. I don't have an obsession with taking all the candy in the house and eating it in one sitting, I can just... Leave it there and have some the next day.

I also mentioned that because of that, I've lost 50lbs and I no longer get out of breath just from going up the stairs, and my chronic ankle pain is SO much better to the point I barely notice it (I fucked it up when I was younger). I also no longer have high cholesterol, and when I go outside in the summer I don't feel like I'm going to die.

All of this was put under a cut, with a CW for eating disorders. The person I was talking to basically said "Holy shit thank you so much for letting me know"

I sort of forgot about it afterwards, but a few days later I went onto Discord and saw that the server was gone. I thought Discord was glitching out, but eventually messaged a friend (F20s) who's also in the server and asked her what was going on and if something happened to the server.

She said no, and was confused as to why I wasn't in it anymore. I didn't leave it on accident, it was just... Not there. She sent me an invite link, but it said the link was expired.

She messaged one of the mods (NB28) and asked them if anyone else was having problems joining the server/it disappearing, and they told her that I was permanently banned from the server.

She asked them why, and they said that I was banned for fatphobia and promoting an eating disorder.

She asked them how I was promoting an eating disorder (since I literally talked about recovering from one), and they said that it was because I was discussing weight loss as something positive, which I guess to them automatically = anorexia???

My friend, without me asking to, told me that she tore the mod a new one and called them a dumbfuck for thinking me no longer having binge eating issues and feeling healthier after losing weight is even close to promoting an eating disorder.

Context: My friend literally has anorexia, so she's familiar with how eating disorders work.

The mod then told her she and I are both fatphobic pieces of shit, and banned HER too. The mod in question has posted multiple selfies before, and they're not even fat. I'm like twice the size they are, even after losing weight.

AWTA or is the mod just on some kind of weird savior-complex powertrip?

What are these acronyms?

[typingatlightspeed]

Okay forgive me for being sappy here but I still can’t believe how lucky I was to be into tf2 now instead of like four years ago. Imagine coming across this awesome series and when you reach the bottom it just. Stops. It stopped and ended with red demo and blu Solly only sort of making up and the rest of the gang are just gone and you’ll never know what happened to them. And you leave the fandom eventually and wouldn’t ever know that BANG six years later you come back with vacation all I ever wanted and everything’s back again, you get to see these characters again and write and head canon and think up scenarios in bed for them again. And I didn’t even have to go through the six “weh this series is dead” years.

So yeah. I’m lucky I think

I felt like such a villain for years because of this, no longer able to write and screaming into the void about it. I lost my sex drive, my passion, and myself, all because of a cluster of unusual side effects of my medication (methylphenidate HCL, aka ritalin), which because they were such unusual side effects (literally the polar opposite of every common side effect) my doctor thought were hormonal issues related to my birth control for YEARS. Constant retooling and dialing in of those meds and completely ignoring that my ritalin was barely doing what it was supposed to do and doing everything to give me literal dysphoria because I was no longer the person I had been my entire fucking life. It was affecting my marriage a lot, too, making my husband doubt my attraction to him. It was hell.

When a friend of mine posted her experience starting ADHD meds after 40, and described how dramatic it was, like flicking a switch, I realized that my meds were not doing what they were supposed to do. So I talked to my doctor and suggested I go off of them, see where I'm at, and maybe try a different med from there. She was like hell yeah make sure you have a day or two off of work in case you feel like dogshit when you go off (I did lol). Two days later I wrote Ain't Seen Nothin' Yeti. The first fiction piece I'd written in six fucking years. I did a lot of crying.

I've rebounded so much, (a bit more than I was before in ways that make my husband very secure in his attractiveness lmao) and I've decided not to bother trying more meds. At least not right now. And since then it's been an explosion of the stories I've wanted to write for years but couldn't, and it feels so good.

The big thing is, though, during those years I stopped checking Ao3, because I felt so guilty that I was sure there were going to be bitter messages asking where I'd gone, why I hadn't updated, or worse, anger over it. So I didn't look. After I put out Ain't Seen Nothin' Yeti, I worked up my courage and checked my Ao3 inbox.

It was an outpouring of love, joy, laughter, and yes lamentations that there isn't more, that it stopped, but no anger, no bitterness, no blame, just oh man I hope someday there's more I love this so much.

And that meant the world to me. I did a lot of crying.

So yeah, you did get lucky. And so did I; that I could come back and keep writing and keep telling these stories. <3 I just hope that anyone who loved thes stories can find out that I'm back.

[rederiswrites]

So ME/CFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) and fibromyalgia are two syndromes (collections of symptoms often found together, with unknown causative mechanisms) with largely overlapping symptoms. They're currently classified as different diagnoses, but there are plenty of people who aren't convinced that they're actually different things. The biggest diagnostic difference seems to be whether the pain or the fatigue is the biggest problem.

I'm sure there are plenty of people who, like me, couldn't possibly say which of those is ruining my life more. I, like many, fulfill all the diagnostic criteria for both. I have the specific patterns of pain and inflammation characteristic of fibro, but I also have the postural orthostatic problems (Stand Up Feel Real Bad disorder) and extreme fatigue of ME/CFS. There's no test; diagnosis is an inherently subjective thing.

This is just gonna keep being about medical problems, so have a cut.

I also have problems that may be related or may be separate or may be part of the constellation of physical issues associated with ADHD, like loose tendons that lead to terrible core strength and janky joints. So while generally the pain spots for fibromyalgia are considered to have no actual material cause, I am pretty sure that my right hip and shoulder are in fact fucked up, and fibro is just making it experientially worse. I've also got a rib that spends more than half its time in just slightly the wrong goddamn place. I have multiple friends who have hypermobility problems that make mine look like a papercut, but combining them with fibro isn't a lot of fun.

A few months back, at my bestie's prompting and with his help, I started eating keto, which is essentially just restricting carbohydrates so harshly that they represent less than 20% (or less than 10%, this seems to be bioindividual) of your diet, at which point your body begins building energy transport molecules out of fat (ketones) instead of glucose. This has a history of treating several conditions (originally, seizures, but now also diabetes and inflammatory conditions), well before it became popular for weight loss.

It was an experiment. Believe me, I have mixed feelings about the fact that it worked. At first, it worked really, really well. I went from mostly bedbound to up and working full days outside. I've started to hit diminishing returns and having to nap more often, but it's still a radical improvement. I just forget how bad it was too fast. I hate how fast we forget how far we've come.

I haven't talking about it though, because I am so conflicted about restrictive diets as a thing. This started as an experiment, and as an experiment I could sell myself on no apples no potatoes no rice no crackers no no no no etc for a few weeks. After a few weeks I could decide whether it was worth it. And now here we are and it works.

But I've gone through So Much food restriction, starting when Phantom was two and we discovered that gluten fucks us both up. Then the Boy was sensitive to so many things as a baby that I cut out the entire Top Eight allergens (let's see, can I remember? Milk, eggs, peanuts, gluten, corn, soy, uhh....others...) for a year while he was nursing. Once you've cut wheat AND eggs AND corn out there is almost no commercial product you can eat and you have to prepare everything from scratch. With a toddler and a baby. I was literally starving. I used a calorie tracker for a while and found that I was nearly a thousand calories short per day, on average. I could barely think.

It's become a huge depression trigger for me. I tell people that my last major depressive episode was triggered by not being able to eat dairy, and I'm not kidding. I'm struggling with it now, too. Most of the time I'm good, but still, despite medication, I get very low and I just want to be able to fucking eat something tasty and comforting and EASY. I just want...cheese and crackers. A whole piece of fruit. A baked potato. Rice with my stir fry. But then I eat too much fucking watermelon and I can tell the difference in my wellbeing the next day.

Food becomes a minefield. Every meal becomes a struggle. You question every bite, every symptom. At least once a day the whole thing is just too annoying and I decide to just not eat, because fuck it. I dunno if it reaches eating disorder levels, but it's certainly maladaptive. I hate that I've gotten here because what you eat actually DOES matter. it's like the question of how you talk yourself out of anxiety when the world is objectively falling apart.

But I can do the things I love. I owe all this garden progress to not having had a glass of juice or a bowl of pasta in four months. Not to mention the abrupt cessation of all my dermatitis problems, frequent "silent" heartburn, a ton of digestive problems, migraines, most headaches, and more. "Nothing is worth risking depression" but is it though?

I'm holding on to the hope that these changes will allow me to heal. That I'll be able to make long-term progress, as many people say they have, and reintroduce restricted foods gradually. That I'll be able to cement the opportunity diet gave me with regular movement and conditioning and slowly claw my way up the spiral.

But on days when I feel like shit anyway, and I can't have some fucking chips about it....yeah. It's not great.

[bomberqueen17]

how it's going

yah my second experiment with adhd meds is like. well, this time it's making it so i can't sleep and my appetite gets shitty, which is what they normally say but i didn't really have that problem last time. i do now!!!

cut for discussions of eating/weight gain/loss shit, and the Horrible Yearnings

lil PSA, because a friend said something about this-- yah SSRIs make you fat (i gained 25 permanent irrevocable pounds on Celexa in 2012 and that's that, it's never gone away no matter what I did and it never will short of some other medical crisis I think), and it's reasonable to in a kind of not-healthy but understandable way wish that the amphetamine ADHD meds would thus make you thin. Seems like it, yeah? If you have no appetite and your metabolism is higher? I'm not finding that, though, so here to nip that in the bud is my observation that if you have trouble with comfort eating, losing your appetite does not take that impulse away, it just makes it disgusting. I actually am not a big comfort eater, but I do, like many humans, tend to derive comfort from eating food I enjoy? This takes that away without removing the need to do it. I still need to eat; if I don't, I get heartburny, emotionally distraught, and more, just like always. But now instead of enjoying the food at least, I find it unappetizing, have to force myself to prepare it, and then eat it so slowly it's always cold/mushy/melted by the time I'm done, and it's not satisfying. And instead of an occasional Fun Lil Treat as a pick-me-up, I wind up roaming the house with Formless Yearning, because I know food won't make me feel better, but nothing else is making me feel better, and I'm not getting any pleasure chemicals from anything I do, any more than I ever did. Friends have reported the dreaded afternoon/evening time when their ADHD meds wear off as being always a notable time for the Yearnings, but I'm finding that I get that just Whenever, so.

It ain't fun and it ain't cute.

But I'm determined to stick this test out to the end of the week because every day has been somewhat different at least, and I'm really trying to write down what happens. Because I was given two weeks' worth of this shit, and I tried it for a week and hated it so much I stopped, but then I didn't write down what happened so I have no fucking idea what to tell the doctor. (I also collapsed into despair and stopped calling that doctor back, but like, that didn't solve anything, and being bitter that finally getting a chance to attempt to fix my ADHD didn't work on the first several tries and in fact seems to still be beyond my capabilities because it requires me to have pattern recognition skills plus medical knowledge I simply don't have... well, it isn't helping anything.)

So we shall see. I have no attention span whatsoever and a MUCH worse working memory than usual, I routinely get up and leave the room to go do something and by the time I get to the next room I have NO memory of what it was, and unlike my normal life, I don't ever get the memory back. Usually I can retrace my steps but now that entire train of thought is JUST GONE, which is way more severe than the problems I normally have. And my usual coping mechanism, where I get up the oomph to do something by daisy-chaining several tasks together, is WILDLY ineffective now because the moment I add a second task the first one falls off and vanishes and I again, cannot recollect what it was.

I normally am no great fist at to-do lists, but I was told it's the Only Way To Make Vyvanse Work, but what I'm finding is that i am also even less capable than normal of making a to-do list have any relationship to reality. Plus I forget I made them, so. They are in fact not helping me.

I have had reasonable (like... 5 hours or more) sleep two nights this week so far, all other nights have been significantly less than that, two or three hours in most cases, which is not all that unpleasant-- at least my bed is comfy-- but does mean I have even less that I am capable of doing when I am awake, since I am so fuzzy-headed from lack of sleep. Also I can't nap, which is usually what fixes me; I am a world champion napper, but this is actually an issue from about the last six months, I cannot actually fall asleep during attempted naps, so it's futile to try. Discouraging!

Last night was a reasonable night though, so I'm carefully observing my capabilities and let me tell you I am not impressed.

So, what I'm finding is that stimulant medications make me MORE ADHD than I was before, which is. I don't know what that means and neither does my doctor so far.

I was going to write about my writing process but now this seems too whiny so I will not, I'll do that separately lol.

[splashstar01]

Love letter to Merthur (11 year anniversary🎉💐) TW: suicide, spoilers for end of the show

Okay so it's been 11 years since Merthur has been my OTP. Since they've entered my life I've literally felt like I've been in a relationship with their relationship if that makes sense. For a little while until I met my spouse, I even identified as aegosexual, which for me meant being asexual except for attraction to other people's relationships such as my OTPs. 

I came into the fandom end of 2013 and became interested because they were all over my tumblr dash. I know, the show ended at the end of 2012.. I'm not sure why Tumblr had a sudden influx of merthur content. Maybe due to the slash tourney?

But I kept seeing the final end scene all over my dash and I kept seeing a ton of articles celebrating that merthur was now canon (imagine my surprise when i found so many in the fandom don't see it that way even tho it was literally confirmed……………………..). 

I knew literally nothing about the show and assumed it was a serious adult show about the Arthurian legends. But I shipped them anyway due to the ending, particularly with Merlin waiting 1500 years (I didn't even realize Arthur was also waiting)!

At the time I had just got into shipping for half a year, so I was super new to all this slash stuff. My slash OTP at the time was very quickly replaced by merthur after I began watching the series bc merthur was just way more touchy-feely and had actual boyish fun around one another, not to mention waiting 1500 years for ea other! That is EPIC LOVE!!!! Their dynamic was the opposite of my previous OTP. 

With merthur I got really, really into my feelings. I've literally bled for them. Rest assured, I have never cut in my entire life. it's only due to me becoming so emotional and hyperventilating in joy that I bit my fingers and bled a little bit. Like, the amount of blood i lost was akin to literally a paper cut from my teeth lol. Because I cover my mouth when I hyperventilate… I think most people cover their mouths when they do this. Lol.

But when I hyperventilate over Merthur, it is EXTREME. like, i have almost out-of-body experiences. i’ve literally cried from being so happy thinking of them having sex. One time in the shower I was thinking about them and I was so happy I nearly blacked out and fell into the shower curtains. 😂 But even when I cry over Merthur/Arthur, im still having fun. Because I know it's not real, so it’s only a pseudo-grief but its NOT psuedo-joy!!! LOL. It's kinda like going on a roller coaster. You’re screaming but you dont actually fear for your life. It’s psuedo-fear. 

At the time, I was severely depressed in my non-fandom life, but Merthur never actually contributed to that hurt, because i could see the lines of reality vs real shit i had to be upset over. Merthur gave me an outlet. With merthur I felt free to cry and fall apart whilst at the same time, as I always tell my ppl, "they're not real, THANK GOODNESS!!" so I can grieve bc I'm not really crying for anyone!

At the time, I wasn’t seeing anyone for my severe depression/anxiety because I thought I could handle it and i was self-medicating with psychedelics since they've been proven to be able to heal mental health issues. LSD at parties healed my c-ptsd, since I had gone to see someone for my ADHD & ended up being diagnosed w c-ptsd! I thought it could heal my other issues too.

But then I took a 7-year break from merthur due to my attempted suicide.

My life was going so well too. I literally seemed like i had the perfect life while in college. Just landed a good-paying 1-yr temp job, I was majorly popular and partying every weekend, I had a long-term partner (we’re now married), I had a 4.7 GPA, was in 9 different school clubs. I seemed to be thriving. But I’d been battling severe anxiety/depression since I was 12.

How the fandom saved my life….. Literally. 

Before I was going to do it, I had to say goodbye to the fandom bc I always felt like the merthur fandom was like my family.

I wrote a goodbye post on Tumblr that I set to queue and I had assumed it would post much later. But ig i somehow miscalculated and it posted too early. So someone managed to find my Facebook which is just insane bc blogs are essentially anonymous. I didn't post any personal info on Tumblr. It should have been impossible but they alerted my sister and I was found 45 min away.

The doctors declared me brain dead and it was this huge thing. I had to relearn to feed myself, walk, etc. It took me 6 months just to have the strength to use a walker because my leg muscles had atrophied so much. 9 months later and I was able to walk again on my own. Now it's been 7 years and I'm still physically disabled but in a much better place emotionally. After my attempt, a limelight was cast on my mental health and all a sudden i was seeing all sorts of therapists. I was medicated for the very first time, and i felt so much better. I’m no longer actively suicidal.

So….. enough about my sob story. 

Merthur will most likely always be my OTP!! I did find book!Drarry 8 months ago, and boy did i go wild for them too. (Like, i stayed up 36 hours straight because i couldnt stop thinking about them and i’m the author of the Drarry Bible, a 98k doc of all the drarry book moments along with meta proving that in their universe, they are in love and soulmates lol. Drarry is such a huge ship that I was honestly so surprised that there wasnt already something similar to it!!)

But even with Drarry, I always knew Merthur was OTP!! I never once questioned that I loved Merthur more even during my Merthur hiatus. ^-^ I’m not sure why i took such a long hiatus after my suicide attempt. But I recently got back into Merthur just 6 months ago due to this video by imaginedragonlords: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4zDknYGf0s. The video reminded me of why Merthur was so amazingggggg. Like i always knew they were but ig the passion was gone after the suicide attempt. (Gone but not forgotten lol! :D)

I wont promise the passion will always be here. Like in any relationship, passion sometimes ebbs and flows (happening rn w my irl partner lol i mean, they’re great n all but they like to interrupt me when i write fanfic 😂), but I’ll always know that Merthur will never be replaced. Because at the end of the day, there will never be another love as epic and with as much chemistry as these two gayssssssss<33333 i did find another ship I love that i feel has a more healthy love for ea other than merthur and also waited a whole lifetime for one another, but they dont have AS much chemistry……………)

I love Merthur SO DAMN MUCH!!!!!! And i love my Merthur fandom. <3 I can always rely on fandom to give me my drug of choice: that MERTHUR DOPAMINE HIT!!! I’ve grieved Arthur’s death way longer & more intensely than any irl person/pet’s, & I blame the fandom for that! Each gifset or post will bring all the feelings of pseudo-grief back in full force, plus I cry EASY when it comes to fandom. I can smile a genuine smile after my grieving session is done, because thank SOURCE THEY’RE FICTIONAL! 

And anyway, they’re so obviously going to end up married with so much sex once Arthur finally returns from training with the Sidhe and being granted immortality so that Albion (Merlin) won’t ever be in such crisis (losing his mind from grief) ever again.

I’ve also cried from looking at a gifset of Leon just being Leon (this one literally tagged ‘literally crying’ & i only use that tag for stuff that has me actually crying with real tears).

And he’s not even one of my fave knights!! This gifset wasn't meant to be sad either. lol. I dont know why i cried. It just be like that on Tumblr.

Back before my hiatus, I literally had a Kleeenix box next to me whenever i went on tumblr bc I’d cry over every little thing. This was bc i was bound to see some sad merthur gifset/post/etc, cry, and after i cried once, anything else made me cry……..

Even gifsets of Leon just being Leon lool. x’D I would get soooooo overly emotional. 

My spouse once said, “All you ever talk about with ur fandoms is ‘they’re so gay.’” YES. THAT IS THE MAIN POINT, WHAT ABOUT IT 😂 like im now in the Harry Potter book fandom & i literally dont give a shit about the book plotlines [I barely remember them], but i can write up a whole Bible about Drarry……. It’s PRIORITIES! I have a very 1-track mind with my ships lol.

Ok this was way longer than intended. 

Tldr;

merthur (fandom) literally saved my life during my suicide attempt by alerting my family,

grieving Arthur’s death is a safe outlet bc i know he’s not real so none of my grief is real.

I dont cut, never have, never will—I just hyperventilate way too hard in fits of joy, usually crying “they’re SO GAY!!!” & bite my fingers a tad too hard on accident at times..... i get really super emotional and i love it becos that free dopamine hit is on another lvl fr lol def up there w real drugs, like my out-of-body experience sometimes xD

I feel like im dating them due to being partly aegosexual. and i love them <3 :D So my 11 yr anniversary fr feels like my 11 yr anniversary w an IRL lover lol XD