#and I feel so exhausted when I wake up that I physically can't make myself get up

[running-in-the-dark]

as someone who has always had issues with sleeping, it's so strange to see how my husband can just fall asleep whenever he wants, wherever he wants. he could lie down on the ground and sleep for 8 hours, no problem.

he just goes to bed, lies down, and falls asleep. and then stays asleep until his alarm wakes him, then he gets up and is just. awake. just like that. he never remembers any of his dreams, he just sleeps. all night. uninterrupted.

it's just. very weird. I mean, I had a lot of sleepovers with friends when I was a kid, so I guess I already knew other people can just. sleep. but still, I guess I always figured it must be a coincidence that everyone else just happened to fall asleep and stay asleep on those occasions. but damn it's been 10 years of seeing this dude just sleep like it's no big deal, and I suppose that's just. how it's meant to be?! how unfair is that.

[criscura]

.

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.

[cripplecharacters]

I searched your blog and didn't find this, so if it's already been answered I'm sorry!

I'm writing a character who has photosensitive epileptic seizures and I was wondering if you have any tips on describing the experience of having a seizure?

My sister has them so I know what hers look like, but I've never had an epileptic seizure myself. Is it a painful experience? Is it more like fainting? What does the post-ictal phase feel like?

I know seizures can look different for everyone so rest assured this will not be my only source :)

Hello!

You're right that seizures are different for everyone, especially considering how many different types of seizures there are.

My last (Confirmed) seizure was several years ago. I have had some... "episodes" (For lack of a better term) that we're unsure if they were seizures or something else more recently but I'll be answering this with my confirmed seizures in mind.

I has epilepsy as a child and mostly had grand-mal/tonic-clonic seizures from what I've been told. For me, I experienced an aura anywhere from 5-10 minutes before the "main" seizure itself. This aura was usually a strange feeling in my head (Almost a tightness or pressure but feeling very loose as well? It's difficult to explain) with a rubbery taste in my mouth.

I can't say much about when the "main" seizure was actually happening as, for me, I wasn't really aware during it.

As somebody who faints... embarrassingly often, however, I can say confidently that it doesn't feel like fainting (At least for me). With fainting, I can feel myself starting to 'go' (My ears begin to ring and I feel almost like I'm fading out) and then I faint and it feels like I wake up almost instantly, even when it's been several minutes. For my seizures, it felt more like a blurred passage of time. I was an aware to an extent, I think, but not in the way it's usually defined (As being aware of your surroundings), it just wasn't like I was unconscious/asleep.

For me, I hated the postictal period the most. My seizures were usually accompanied by a loss of control over my bladder and would occasionally make me... not throw up, really, but almost spit up a bit. I'd usually wake up feeling incredibly tired and grumpy and usually ended up crying. The crying wasn't tied to any particular feeling, it was more of a physical response. And though I can now acknowledge that it's nothing to be embarrassed about, as a kid it was all pretty humiliating for me.

Just as a side note, my boyfriend also has seizures currently but not from epilepsy. I've been with him during his periods after the seizure before and he usually ends up acting like a kid, for lack of a better term. He cries a lot and is very disoriented but he's also very easily distracted. There have been several occasions where he's played with my keys for a few minutes before he comes back to it. He doesn't experience the same grumpiness and deep exhaustion that I did, though he has said that they make him feel very sleepy.

Although I didn't find the seizures themselves to be painful at all, there were several occasions where I ended up hurting myself during one. Usually this was hitting my head when I fell or during the actual jerking of the seizure but there have been other times when I had bruises or sore muscles afterwards. Given how young I was when I was having these kinds of seizures, I don't fully recall how the sore muscles/injuries felt as they didn't have as much of an impact on me as the seizures themselves.

After a seizure, I'd end up sleeping for anywhere from a couple hours to the rest of the day. I think part of it was the emotional exhaustion of a seizure while another part was the physical.

Now, I did speak a lot about the grand-mal seizures I experienced but I did also (And actually may still) have absence seizures as well.

A few years ago my seizures came back briefly and, despite my neurologist's best efforts, we couldn't figure out why. I'm not entirely sure how to classify them now but I was mostly aware during them and, from what's been described to me, my head was nodding up and down (To the point where it was all the way back), my eyes were rolled up into my head, and my eyelids were fluttering. I didn't experience any of the side-effects of my grand-mal seizures (Ex: Peeing myself, spitting up, crying, etc.) during these and I also don't know if I fell or not because when I had them, I was generally sitting down somewhere.

During these, my vision was flashes of colour/shapes and just generally what you'd expect from having your eyes rolled up and your eyelids fluttering. I was still aware that things were happening around me but I couldn't really process it the same way. I could hear people speaking but couldn't understand what they were saying.

You did mention looking into other sources for this and I'd definitely recommend doing that. These are just my (And, briefly, my boyfriend's) experiences and there are so many different experiences of seizures and epilepsy in general.

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

Hi lovely asker!

I have absence seizures and myoclonic ones so I'll add on my two cents as well (Cover more of the seizure spectrum here 😁).

For absence seizures for me its mostly just a complete blank space of time. There's one moment where I'm walking, talking, doing whatever and then the next thing I know I look around and usually like 30-ish seconds has past. If I was having a conversation and the person I'm talking to kept talking, I'm not aware of any of what they said when I was having the seizure. It's kinda like someone turns my brain off for a quick restart and then turns it back on again.

If there is nothing physical around me indicating of a passage of time. (Ex. Someone talking, I looked at the clock right before it happened, any living object that moves around) then I most likely won't know I had the seizure. Sometimes I have a little feeling because I often get headaches leading up to my absence seizures but other than that they're painless and more so there is that panic feeling of losing track of time. I'm usually just disoriented because of that sudden missing frame of time. I'll kinda look around, try to get my bearings, see what happened, if anything's changed etc.

Myoclonic ones really depend on how aggressive they are. They can be big (a whole side of my body will twitch) or itty bitty baby ones (my fingers twitch or I can feel certain muscles twitching). Kinda like with Tonic-Clonic seizures, all the muscles involved will contract on me and it's painful. Often times they're more annoying and frustrating than painful (trying to eat breakfast one time and let's just say my eggs ended up across the room).

They can cause my legs to jerk too which if I'm walking will make me just suddenly fall as my legs give out. Sometimes they can just happen as one, or they can cluster and that means that multiple happen in a row. When they cluster, they're often more painful because my muscles are contracting so many times. If I fall like I mention I often hurt myself because I just completely fall to the ground (not like fainting, I'm conscious and alert and I can move my arms and torso, it's usually just my legs that are the problem.)

Leading up to my myoclonic seizures sometimes I get really really really bad tremors that worsen with movement to the point where If it's my legs then I can't stand or walk (trusty old wheelchair). And if it's my upper body than my hands have very little use to me so things like eating, changing (buttons my enemy), writing, and pressing buttons is very hard to do (also I will add that I just have very clumsy dexterity in general so the tremors certainly don't help but yeah XD)

For all my seizures in general I get very light sensitive afterwards and my lovely doctors and nurses have told me it's because my pupils get completely blown and then constrict and they do this rapidly and it's often paired with nystagmus. So my Post-ictal is usually more just being sore, my head hurts, my eyes are very sensitive and usually the nystagmus is what lingers on the longest.

For tonic-clonic seizures (which I won't go into much because Icarus already did) they're the most painful for me and it usually hurts to move afterwards. I usually start to mumble and can't talk when they're about to happen it's just a lot of "um's" and "uh" and I can't form any words. I start to rub my hands over my body because my skin gets this tingly feeling, and I start to kinda look around frantically because again my anxiety does no help. During the seizure I'm usually in and out of consciousness so it's black and then I'll hear or see something for a split moment and then black again and yeah so on and so forth but I can remember bits and pieces (that I'm conscious for that is). Everything usually sounds really far away like I'm under water and my vision of what I can see is very blurry and there is usually like ten of the same person.

Very rarely i've stopped breathing during my Tonic-Clonic and with those they're usually not as painful (don't ask me why) but they are. Granted that initial struggle to breath again is a bit jarring but in my opinion these are a lot more traumatizing for the people around me than me myself.

Alrighty, hopefully this is of some help lovely person! As Icarus said this varies very wildly person to person and seizure to seizure so yeah. Have fun writing!

~ Mod Virus 🌸

[igglemouse]

Just look at this little angel! I'm so happy for her and for the life she's going to have! She WILL grow up with loving and happily parents, something I did not have, and while she doesn't know how important that is, maybe someday she will.

But this morning I'm in such a good mood that its a banana pancakes kind of morning, and when you make banana pancakes they have to be made with a bit of extra excitement! It's always good to start the day on a high note and right now, I've definitely hit another milestone in my life. Honestly, I can't really imagine things being much better than they are right now.

"So, any regrets?" I ask Pascal as he comes down for breakfast, the aroma of pancakes always brings him to breakfast a little earlier than usual. I am also of course asking about the proposal because it did come out of no where, I hope it wasn't some impulsive thing.

"Why would I? I feel like, you and I, are really just scratching the surface," he settles into his seat and starts to dig into his plate. That means he has nothing more to add. He's simple and always to the point, it takes some getting used to, but I like that about him and he's right. We have not spent too much time together so I feel like there is always this potential for more with us.

"I did expect a proposal to be more hmmmm....in a more remote location than a regular park," I am teasing of course. I've come from the very bottom of the bottom and love, for me, has been fleeting and non-existent.

"Oh, were you expecting on the shore of a Sulani beach or-"

"Yes, yes, something like that!" I throw up my hands mockingly. "A girl can dream right?

He chuckles but his tone turns a bit softer, letting me know that he thought about doing something more. "I would have but...the baby, the time of year, and I really just felt like...why wait? I wanted to make a commitment to you since you've made a commitment to me, it only seemed fair."

"Y-yeah..." I'm happy he said that but...I don't know. I want it to feel like more than a commitment, I want just a little more romance, something that would make a good story to tell to Flora one day. Still, I know not to take things for granted and there is a wedding ahead of us, that certainly will be memorable and Flora will be able to witness it even if she won't fully understand it now.

I'd talk more about romance but I'm tired. That's what waking up to a wailing baby at 3 a.m. will do to you and when you are as exhausted as I am a couch looks as good as any bed. I'll take the naps I can get!

And if you are wondering why Pascal is standing in front of a mirror half naked its because he's been working on his charisma. He says that while he feels like no one can touch him on the field he worries that the team isn't always on his side. He wants to be a better leader, basically, and I guess that means he has to practice his charisma in the mirror? I won't argue with it!

I do eventually wake up because I can't sleep the day away and right as I do, or a little after waking up, I get a message from my friends! Rather one from from Marjorie who I've not seen in a little white. She wants to meet at the gym of course and that sounds like a good idea to me.

And don't worry about Flora, Pascal will be on baby duty for the night! I know she goes easy on him so I'm sure it'll be a nice and calm night for these two.

When I get to the gym I find that Marj and Sara are already into it. They offer me a few hellos but are too focused to do much of anything else and so I settle in behind them and do some light stretching myself. There is something calming about yoga although it can be very physically straining. Yeah, it doesn't look like it is but trust me, you'll be stretching muscles you never knew you even had. I do admit that I'm still not very good at it.

After the yoga we of course have to catch up which is mostly Marjorie asking me questions about motherhood. She seems really curious about it and really I'm happy to talk about Flora every chance I can get.

"We really should come over and see her this weekend!" Marjorie says and her face lights up at the idea of it. I'd love it too! I'd like to see how Flora reacts to strangers as well.

"Yes yes! Chu know, I work from home so any time is a very good time," I tell her. How is my Simlish? I've been feeling pretty confident with it lately!

"Sounds like a plan then!" Marjorie decides.

"No no no, that won't happen!" Sara suddenly jumps in. "She has a new guy that's been taking up all of her time," and just like Sara she's ready to gossip, a teasing grin on her face.

"Oh?" this is new to me, I guess I don't keep up that much with Marjorie, at least not recently. I've had a lot going on!

"Yes, really. What's his name again?" Sara asks, leaning into the desk, forcing Marjorie to answer.

"Ummm, Marcus," Marjorie admits with some hesitation. "Yes, it's Marcus."

"Yeah, Marcus," Sara is happy to confirm. "That's his name. You should see him too, he's definitely her type," Sara adds a little comfy, enjoying herself now. She's always been this way, a little nosy, especially when it comes to relationship gossip. Kind of funny considering how little I know about her own secret boyfriend.

"He's really not all that Sara," Marjorie tries to downplay it but I feel like it's a little too late. Sara has latched on and I can't help but laugh, which gets Sara attention over to me.

"Oh, trust me, you'll know what I mean when you see him," Sara continues, having taken full control of the conversation. This is usually when I have to jump into it and kind of pull her out of this mode or else poor Marjorie will always be on the defensive.

"So you meet him already?" I feel soo out of the loop!

"Mmhmm," Sara hums. "Well, he's always here at the gym, I think he works here, doesn't he, Marj?"

"Yes, he's a trainer here!" Marjorie says with pride which is no surprise to me, she's always been into her fitness.

"Yeah, he's something else too," the curl of Sara's lips tells me that isn't a good thing.

"He's a little intense to be sure," Marjorie jumps back in. "I mean..."

"I know the meaning," I come to her defense because I know how Sara can get. "Just that kind of man, very intense? Pascal is like this and I stay out of his way when he is," my simlish is not that well still but they do understand what I mean.

"No," Sara continues. "You don't get it he's-"

But she stops since apparently he's right behind me and taking the empty chair right next to me.

"Ah, so you're the girl that Pascal dates?" he says, taking a good look at me, one that makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I almost wanted to correct him, I'm the girl that Pascal will marry, but I guess that would be news to Sara and Marjorie and I don't want to break the news to them in that way. "Hmmmm..."

"What?" I say a little defensively.

"I see why he keeps you private."

I'm looking over to Marjorie, you know the look, correct your guy because I have no idea what that means and I don't know if I want to. She turns her attention towards him. "Marcus, she's just had a baby so-"

"Yeah but you wouldn't use that excuse, would you, Marj?" He says to her and I'm still staring at her, wondering what she could see in this guy.

"N-no, of course not, but it's not an excuse either! She'll get back in shape I'm sure-"

"What?!" I jump back in. "My weight?"

"Ummm, yeah? You're at a gym, honey," he tells me so casually, as if he didn't just insult me. "You're a bit overweight, aren't you? How long ago did you have your baby? I believe that a woman should begin a diet routine in-"

"Chu are not my doctor!"

"No," he continues. "I'm not YOUR doctor, I'm a personal trainer, sweety, and if I were yours you'd actually be in shape and Pascal would not keep you hidden in the house and would show you off a little more."

"Marjorie!" I appeal to her because there is no reasoning with a man like this. I'm now more disappointed with her that she sits there and lets him insult me like this.

"Sorry Frida," she chimes in, a little low. "He makes good points, they are harsh but..."

Meanwhile Sara sat in between all of this, seemingly expectant of this and she has nothing to say now. The look on her face mirrors mines really and only awkwardness can follow.

And then Marcus tells Marjorie he wants to go and she apologizes one last time for his behavior and leaves with him. I'm honestly left a little a shocked and looking at Sara for answers.

"I warned you," is really all Sara could say.

"It's no worries, I've dealt with a lot worse," as you all know...

Frida Varela - Next Episode 10.2

[unangelic-thoughts]

Forgive me...I want you. (Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader)

Summary: After a drunken mistake where you expose yourself to your aunt's boyfriend, you unknowingly start something between you beyond your wildest dreams…

Warnings: NSFW smut 18+, infidelity, age gap, masturbating while being watched, phone sex (sorta?? but more like window sex??)

Word Count: 3k

Author’s note: A specific part in this is loosely inspired by taylor swift's 'you belong with me' scene where they see each other through their bedroom windows…hehe…;)

Reblogs and interactions are most appreciated <333

I walk as quietly as I can up the stairs of the house I currently live in with my parents so as to not wake them at one thirty in the morning. Although I'm in my mid twenties and would love nothing more but to have my own place, rent is ridiculously expensive and I'd rather save up for as long as I can. Thankfully for me, I get along with them both and we respect each other's privacy - so it works.

I shut the door to my bedroom quietly, extending my hand to the wall beside me to switch the light on. I take my cross-body bag off over my head and throw it on my bed with a sigh. Running my hands through my hair, I think back to today's unfortunate events. From deciding to surprise my girlfriend on our six month anniversary, to catching her in bed with my best friend, to going from bar to bar with my sweet Angel of a cousin to try and forget it all; I am completely and utterly emotionally and physically exhausted.

The makeup I put on earlier today is patchy and smudged but I feel too numb to care. Walking into my on-suite bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror while my arms rest on either side of the sink. Black streaks of mascara cover my cheeks from where I'd been crying. I take a deep breath, grabbing a makeup wipe and take it all off.

Once I'm done with skincare, I walk back into my bedroom and pick out a clean pair of undies and oversized tee from my closet, setting them out at the end of my bed. I begin stripping from my clothes, starting with my top, then my skirt and tights. I stand up straight, my hands reaching behind my back to take my bra off when I lock eyes with Joel and I freeze.

Joel is my next door neighbour. He is also my dad's sister's husband. In my current messy state, I  completely forgot to pull my curtains shut and that Joel's office literally faces my bedroom. In my defence, I wasn't expecting him to be up this late.

The initial state of shock begins to subside but neither of us has attempted to look away first. I'm reminded of the very innocent crush I've had on him since the day my aunt introduced us to him five years ago. Of course, I knew it was futile - considering the whole Joel-is-now-technically-my-uncle thing as well as the age gap thing. I never let myself think about it too seriously except for the times late at night whenever I've struggled to fall asleep. Thoughts of him laying on top of me, kissing down my neck while his hands caress my body intrude my mind more often than I'd like to admit and I feel so guilty, but I can't help it.

It feels like I've been standing there half-naked in front of my window for hours when in reality it's only been a second or two. I spot my dressing gown draped over my swivel chair in the corner of my eye and I quickly grab it to cover myself as best as I can.

When I look back at him, his eyes have fallen to the laptop in front of him and I instantly feel the loss of his intense stare. A pang of disappointment hits me, missing the feel of his eyes on me and the way it ignited a fire in my lower belly.

Desperate to get his attention, I loosen the grip I have on my dressing gown and let it fall in front me, exposing me once more. His dark brown eyes instantly meet mine again and it makes my insides flip.

I swallow down the lump in my throat, deciding to ignore the warning lights and sirens going off in my head that are telling me how terrible of an idea this is. But in this moment, I couldn't care less. I just want to feel wanted.

My hands find their way to my bra for a second time and unclasp it. I hold the cups of my bra against my breasts, a moment of hesitation washing over me but I shake that feeling away as I shake off my bra.

Joel goes very still and it feels good to know I'm having an effect on him, so I continue. My hands drop to my panties, my thumbs hooking on either side as I slowly slide them down my legs and step out of them.

I feel so empowered and in full control of the situation, which is exactly what I need right now. I turn around, grabbing my clean undies and slipping them on followed by my oversized tee. I walk to my window, wishing I could reach out to touch him but instead, I pull the curtains shut knowing I've already gone too far and put an end to whatever this is.

***

I've avoided Joel for two whole weeks since that night; not that it has been hard to do since he's definitely been avoiding me too. He hasn't even spared me a glance when we've passed by each other in our adjacent driveaways, oftentimes me going out and him coming home at the same time.

The anxiety of what I'd done was eating me up the first few days, worried that he'd tell my aunt about it. But the longer it's been, the more confident I feel that he's not planning on telling a soul. God, if anyone found out about my drunken mistake, it would completely destroy our family.

I've thought of countless of ways I could apologize to him but none seem good enough, worried it'll just make things more awkward; if that's even possible. Sometimes it's better to pretend like nothing ever happened and things will eventually fix by themselves with time. Yes...I just have to give it some time and it'll soon be a distant memory...

***

The chime of the doorbell distracts me from my current seated position on the sofa, one hand holding the book I've been reading and the other stroking my cat, Felix. I place the book next to me and cradle Felix in my arms like the little baby that he is and head to the door.

It's my aunt, Tess. "Hi hun, are you enjoying your weekend alone?" She extends an arm to rub Felix under his chin.

"Yeah, it's been nice having the house all to myself. Mum and dad won't be back until late Monday evening so I still have a couple of days of peace." I say, chuckling.

"That's great! Although I'm about to disturb that peace, but not for long. I promise! I just need a small favour." She cautiously smiles at me.

"As long as it doesn't involve screaming kids or maths, I'm happy to help." I respond lightheartedly.

"So, I ordered a couple of new sculptures of Athena and the delivery driver just dropped them off outside our door. He ran off before I could get the chance to ask him to help bring them in." She sighs.

"Oh my God, more Greek sculptures? You're obsessed! Don't you already have like 50? How do they all fit in the house?!" I say half-serious, half-laughing while I shake my head. For the past year, Tess has developed a fascination for Greek mythology and the house has basically turned into a museum of Ancient Greece.

"I know, I know." Tess replies, swinging her hands back and forth to dismiss my accusation. "Anyway, I've hurt my back so I can't lift anything and Joel needs another person to help him. Would you mind lending  him a hand?"

"Yeah, sure." I somehow manage to say nonchalantly even though inside I'm screaming. The last thing I want to do is be near Joel but I can't tell Tess that. "I'll be out in a minute" I say, forcing a smile and nod my head as I step back into the house to slip into something more appropriate.��

Once I've pulled my shit together and reassured myself that this isn't a big deal, I make the short walk over to their place. The door opens before I reach the steps, both Tess and Joel coming out at the same time. She places a quick peck on his lips before making her way to her car. "Just going to do some grocery shopping, I won't be long. And be careful with my sculptures!" She calls out as she shuts the car door after her.

I notice the silence between us immediately, fiddling my hands nervously. "Where do these need to go?" I ask as I point to the sculptures in front of me, desperate to be done with this as quickly as possible.

Joel doesn't hold my gaze however, and it makes me think that what happened is still bothering him. "One in the living room and one in the bedroom."

Once we've figured out how to carry the first one, we manage to place it in the living room with relative ease. The second one however is much trickier, needing to be carried all the way to the upstairs bedroom. I can feel myself building up a sweat but I try my best to keep my breathing steady. Once we reach the room, we set it down in its new spot. Not even a second later and I trip over my own foot, falling towards the direction of the sculpture. Joel is there before I know it, one hand holding Athena and the other steadying me. The feel of his arm around me feels different to any other time we've hugged, I notice.

"That was close." He says, pulling back once I've got both feet on the ground.

"It was. Thank you. Tess would kill me if anything happened to it." I exhale, widening my eyes in horror at the thought of breaking the sculpture.

"And I'd be right there with you too. She can be a scary woman when she wants to be." He jokes, an uneasy smile on his face.

"I'm sorry." I blurt out as I fix my gaze on the sculpture rather than Joel.

"Don't worry about it, nothin' broke so we get to live another day." He shrugs his shoulders as his hands rest on his hips and laughs.

"Not about that...I'm sorry about what happened that night. I was drunk and it was wrong of me." I find myself saying before I can stop myself, the guilt finally getting to me.

The grin on his face immediately drops and I brace myself for what he has to say.

"It was a fucked up thing to do and it's best that we forget about it." He says, his tone razor sharp.

"I know and for that, I sincerely apologize." His words sting even though I know they shouldn't. I mean, he didn't look away either. It can't just be all on me, he could've easily left. He had plenty of opportunity to do so.

"You put me in a really uncomfortable position. What would Tess say if she found out? What would your parents think?" His brows are furrowed together in anger and I regret ever bringing it up.

"I-I wasn't in a good place mentally and I definitely wasn't sober but I don't think it's fair to put all the blame on me." I defend, shaking my head.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "And who should share the blame? Me?"

It's my turn to furrow my brows, not liking where this conversation is going. "Well, yeah. You clearly didn't dislike what you saw. You could've left at any time."

"I think you should leave." He responds firmly, crossing his arms.

"You don't have to tell me twice." I scowl. Turning on my heal, I strut out of the room and slam the door shut behind me. Regret fills my chest, not for my drunken striptease, but for my stupid attempt at apologising to that asshole.

*** He tries to apologise to me twice this week but I blank him both times. He tells me that Tess noticed something has been off with us and confronted him about it. He told her it's because he yelled at me when I almost broke one of her statues and now I'm mad at him. That's the only reason he wants to apologise, so that everything seems normal in front of everyone else; not because he's genuinely sorry. So no, I'm not ready to forgive him that easily.

***

I'm having one of those late night closet clear outs, deciding whether my denim midi skirt is staying in the keep pile or the donation pile when my phone rings.

My breath hitches as the name of last person I thought would be calling me right now pops up on the screen. At first I think it might be a mistake, but as it rings for the fourth time, I have to decide whether to answer or ignore it.

He's never called me this late before and the curiosity takes over, so I swipe the green button on the screen and put the phone to my ear.

"Joel?" I ask hesitantly, even though I know it's him calling.

"Can we talk?" His voice low on the other end of the line.

"I'm busy right now." I reply, finally tossing the skirt I've been holding to the keep pile.

"No, you're not. I can literally see you in your bedroom." With that, I turn around and look up. Lo and behold, Joel is standing in front of his office's french doors and he's looking right at me.

"What do you want?" I ask, my heartbeat increasing tenfold.

I watch as his hand trails up his shirt, his fingers starting to unbutton it from the top.

"Tell me to stop at anytime, and I will." He whispers as I stand there completely dumbfounded.

Once his shirt is unbuttoned, he shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it fall on the floor behind him. It exposes his soft chest and belly, and I can't take my eyes off of him.

His hands move on to his belt, swiftly removing it from his jeans and popping open the button. He stops just before he pulls his zipper down and I feel a pang of disappointment until I hear his voice once more.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks simply, as if he hasn't just asked me such an incongruous question.

I shake my head from side to side ever so slightly, it's barely noticeable.

"I need you to use your words darlin'" He's looking at me intently and it makes me feel lightheaded.

I don't want to say it out loud but if I-

"Don't. Don't stop." I surprise myself at how sure I sound, not realising how badly I've wanted this since I exposed myself to him until this very moment.

I notice his chest contract as he exhales in relief; Like he was hoping I'd want this just as much as he does.

He continues then, removing his jeans completely and takes a seat on the chair behind him while still facing me.

"Your turn." It takes me a minute to process what he's saying. He wants to see me naked. Again. Part of me questions whether this is a prank but the part of me that has secretely wanted to do this since forever decides to push the doubts aside.

I hesitate only for a second before I remember that I've done this before and he's already seen my exposed body, and then I strip down to my underwear - just like he has.

His hand reaches inside his boxers and he begins to stroke himself. My panties are soaked within seconds. His breathing becomes shallow as he increases the speed of his hand on his member. My hand is on my breast, squeezing it hard as my thumb and index finger stroke my nipple.

"Touch yourself." He orders and I immediately oblige, my hand gliding from my breast to my soft tummy and finally underneath my panties. I hiss as my fingers touch my bundle of nerves, making circular motions. I'm already so wet at the sight in front of me that it doesn't take long for me to slide my fingers through my contracting walls. I pump my fingers with the same rhythm that he strokes his cock as I close my eyes to imagine that it's him inside of me. It feels so good and yet it's not enough, but I know that this is going to be as good as it's ever going to get. This won't ever happen again. I shake those thoughts away and decide to savour the present moment.

Opening up my eyes again, my gaze is back on Joel. His mouth is parted lightly and his eyes are half shut as his head rests on the back of his chair. His movements under his boxers become more frantic and I know he's close. It drives me to go faster and I yelp as I unexpectedly hit a sweet spot, "Fuck!"

"Keep going baby." He urges me on as he grunts in pleasure. My eyes shut tightly and I bite my lower lip, fastening my pace which causes squelching sounds from my dripping pussy.

"Atta girl." He praises, seemingly satisfied by the sounds travelling through the phone.

I whimper in pleasure as I feel the orgasm build inside of me. I stare back at Joel who lets out a "Fuck" at the same moment that I do. We both come apart together, moaning and whimpering in unison; creating a sweet melody of pleasure.

I never, in a million years, thought that I would ever get the chance to see and hear him coming undone but it's the most mesmerizing thing I've ever witnessed. 

"Am I forgiven?" He asks once his breathing has returned to normal.

"I think you already know the answer to that." I say, as a smile creeps up on my damp face.

--------

Thank you for reading! I'd love it if you let me know your throughts <3 (Uuumm personally, I would jump straight through that goddamn window and onto his lap...fuckkkk)

Lots of love, Elki xoxo

[bteezxyewriter12]

Here Without You

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 4k

Includes- Based on song Here without you by three doors down, angst, fluff, sex, missionary, oral, pussy eating, cum eating, cock riding, multiple orgasms

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000

Gif Credit- Yooboobies

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Yoongi Masterlist

J POV

Opening the door to my apartment, silence greets me, my eyes tearing up

"Stop it", I whisper to myself, wiping my eyes

I need to stop crying all the time

It doesn't help

It doesn't bring him back

I just have to wait for him to come back

He will

When the tour's done, he'll be home again

Closing and locking the door, I go to our room to undress

I try to think of what I have to do before I can video call him

Undress

Shower

Cook something

Eat

Maybe watch a TV show or YouTube

Some thing to pass the time until he wakes up and can call me

He's in Texas now, so when he wakes up at 10 am, it's 1 am here

Luckily I don't have work tomorrow so I can sleep in

I've stayed up late every night since he went on tour three weeks ago so I can talk to him and I've gone to work exhausted

It doesn't matter though, he's worth it

Sighing, I throw my clothes in the hamper, then go to the bathroom to shower

--------------------------------

I'm laying on the couch with the TV on for noise when my phone rings

Seeing the caller as "naekkeo", I immediately pick it up, his beautiful face filling my screen

"Hi jagi", he says softly, his sad brown eyes gazing at me

"Hi naekkeo", I answer, tears flooding my eyes

This tour has been particularly hard for us

It's the first one after our wedding

And the first one where I can't come to any of the overseas concerts

Not with this video game designer job I have now

I started it last year and the boss is an asshole

He gave me such a hard time to take off for my wedding and honeymoon even though I told the interviewer that I needed certain days off and was guaranteed them at hiring

I'm working on a major game now and I have endless meetings

The thing is I can do everything remotely but my boss is being such an ass, demanding that I come in for meetings

I'm one of three people that come in physically for meetings

The people from other departments come in virtually

Because they have other bosses who aren't pricks

This is the first time I haven't been with him at all on the tour and it's affecting both of us

He's already been gone for three torturous weeks

"How was the concert last night?", I ask, forcing the tears back

"It was good", he answers, his eyes wet, "ARMYS had fun"

"Did you have fun?", I ask

He nods, biting his lip as the tears spill over his eyes

"Naekkeo", I say softly

"I'm sorry", he says as he cries, "I just miss you"

I shake my head, my own tears falling, "I miss you too baby. Don't be sorry"

"I can't....I can't do this jagi. I need you"

I nod, wiping my eyes, trying to calm him down, "I need you too baby. It's just for a little bit"

"It's another six weeks jagi. I can't spend that long without you", he sobs, "We've never been apart this long. It's killing me"

I know exactly how he feels

"Me too naekkeo but there's nothing we can do. You have to be on the tour. I have to work. I wish I could be there, I want to be there with you", I say, more tears falling, making his image blurry, "I don't know how it can happen baby. It's torture for me too naekkeo"

He shakes his head, "I don't want to be here without you. I dream about you every night and when I wake up and you're not there it's devastating"

"I want to be with you naekkeo", I whisper, "So much. I dream about you too Yoongi and I miss you more than anything"

"I can't handle it", he sobs, "I can't sleep without you. I hate knowing you're not backstage waiting for me. I hate not seeing your smile. Hearing your voice. Holding you. I don't know how I'm supposed to keep doing this tour"

I really have no idea how he's supposed to do it either

I don't know how I'm supposed to keep going without him

Video calls, it's not enough

Like he said, I need to be in his arms, I need to feel him, hug him, kiss him

I can't do that through a screen

"We just have to keep counting down the days baby", I tell him, "Just get through each day at a time"

It sounds lame but there's nothing else I can think of to make this better

It's hard for both of us

He just shakes his head, wiping his eyes

"Tell me about the concert naekkeo", I ask him in a effort to distract us both, "What's the set list? What was your favorite part about this concert?"

He smiles sadly, knowing exactly what I'm doing

But he nods and begins talking

--------------------------------

Three days later

I toss and turn in bed, trying it get comfortable

I can't sleep

I've been laying in bed for hours

I know it's because I wasn't able to talk to Yoongi tonight

BTS had a concert last night and when they have concerts he can't call me

I know they did a vlive too and he went to bed really late

He's probably exhausted and slept all day

I understand

I'm not mad, I know how he operates on concert days

On little to no sleep and he crashes all day the next day

I just miss him

As I'm turning again, I hear a noise

It sounds like it's coming from the front door

Like jiggling

I quiet down and listen hard

I hear the front door open and I'm immediately alert

The door shouldn't be opening

The only ones who have keys are me and Yoongi

And Yoongi is thousands of miles away

Carefully, I get up from the bed, tip toeing to the open door

Quietly, I leave the room, going out into the hallway, ready to run or fight if I need to

A figure steps into the long hallway from the living room and I gape, not sure I'm seeing who I'm seeing

"Yoongi?", I gasp

"Jagi", he whispers, starting to come to me

I don't think, my body immediately goes into a run towards him

I get to him in seconds, crashing into him as he picks me up, his lips immediately against mine

I kiss him desperately, so shocked he's here but so fucking happy and relieved

His arms hold me tightly, keeping me against him, my legs and arms locked around his waist and neck

I don't know how long we kissed for but for me it's never enough

When the kiss does end, I lean my forehead against his, just basking in him being home

"I missed you so much", I whisper

"I missed you jagi"

"How...how are you here naekkeo? Shouldn't you be in the U.S.?"

As much as I want him here, I don't want him to get into trouble

"I couldn't stay away from you a minute longer jagi", he tells me softly, "I just can't. I can't spend another six weeks away from you, Jo. I can't do it baby"

"I can't either naekkeo", I say, knowing exactly how he feels

Like everything is colorless, lifeless without him

"I think about you all day jagi. I miss you so fucking much it hurts. I hate that you're so far from me. I don't think I ever cried so much from being away from you"

I know

This whole time has been so fucking hard, so heartbreaking

I want him to be on tour, I know how much he loves performing, I just hate that he has to be away from me to do it

"It's the same for me baby", I tell him, "I just want you so much it hurts. I want you to be able to perform naekkeo but I don't want you to be away"

"I don't want to be away either jagi"

"What are we going to do baby?", I ask, worried

He's here now but he can't stay

He has the rest of the tour to do, his ARMYS are counting on him

"You're coming back with me", he says

"Yoongi", I start, "My job naekkeo"

The stupid reason I had to stay behind

There was no way my boss would let me take two months off to go with him

"I called him jagi", he tells me, "I spoke to your boss and after a lot of convincing and proving who I was, he agreed to let you have the time off for the rest of the tour"

I gape at him, in shock

My asshole boss caved to Yoongi?

What did Yoongi say to him?

"You won't be paid for the time jagi but it doesn't matter. We have enough money"

"That's your money Yoongi"

He shakes his head, "You keep saying that jagi but it's not. It's ours. You're my wife, the love of my life, everything that's mine is yours from even before we were married baby. You know you don't even have to work jagi but you insist on it"

Of course I do

I'm not a mooch

Just because he's rich doesn't mean I can spend his money

I was never with him for the money or the potential money as we met in high school and have been together since then, when we were both broke

He works hard, he sacrificed in the beginning of BTS, the money and success he has is because of him

I even offered to sign a pre-nup before we got married and he was actually offended I even suggested it

He declined it, shocking me and he always maintains that the money and everything that comes from it is ours

"Yoongi-"

"You know you don't jagi. You know I would give you anything you ask for, do anything for you", he says softly, "And I'm good with you wanting to work baby but I need you with me. I can't go back without you. Please jagi, say you'll come with me. Please"

"Of course I'm going to come with you", I whisper, running my fingers in his black hair, "Even if I had to quit, find another job after the tour, I would come naekkeo. I can't be apart from you any more baby. I need you"

His entire body relaxes as he breathes in relief

"Ok jagi. Thank you"

"Shh baby, don't thank me. Just like you, I'll do anything for you naekkeo, give you anything you want", I assure him, "I want to be wherever you are. And if you have to be in the U.S. I'm going with you"

He nods, "Ok jagi. I love you"

"I love you Yoongi"

His lips press against mine, my heart filling with utter joy that he's here

He carries me to our room, laying me on the bed, his lips never leaving mine

He moves next to me, my body turning to his, our arms around each other

I kiss him passionately, falling into him after weeks of missing him

His kiss is everything, his arms around me is heaven

He's my everything, my world

The kiss becomes heated, his tongue against mine, our hands desperately touching each other

"I missed you", I murmur between kisses while pulling his shirt up

Her separates from me long enough to get his shirt off mine following

"I missed you too, you have no idea"

"I do naekkeo, I missed you just as much"

He smiles his gorgeous smile right before kissing me, his hand slowly pulling down my pj pants and panties

Once they're off, I slide my hands down his sweatpants, getting them and his boxers off

I want him so badly

Three weeks of no physical contact is catching up to us

He moves on top of me, laying between my open legs, his warm smooth skin right against mine

His forehead leans against mine as I move my arms around him, my hand on his back, slowly running my palms up and down, feeling him

He moans softly, his skin trembling under my hands

I slide my hands up, moving over and along his strong shoulders, up his neck, sinking my fingers in his soft hair

We shift slightly, our lips against each other's, kissing desperately

I feel his length at my entrance and I drop my hands to his hips, pulling him closer to me

He takes the hint, his cock sliding inside, my pussy stretching around his thick shaft, pleasure tingling throughout every cell of my body

He whimpers into the kiss as he pushes in inch by inch, my pussy getting wetter and wetter, impaling me on his huge thick dick

My body arches from the pleasure, letting him slide in faster, bottoming out quicker, his head nestled against my spot

I shiver under him, squeezing his cock involuntarily hard

"Fuck", he groans, moving his arm around my waist and holding me against him, "You feel so good jagi. Always so tight for me. So wet"

"Mmm", I murmur, shivering against his lips that found their way to my neck, "And you feel good naekkeo. So hard, all the fucking time"

I purposely clench around his cock, his moan so hot as I enjoy the hard feeling of him buried inside me

"You make me this way jagi", he whimpers, "Fuck, anything you do turns me on. If I could stay inside you all fucking day, I would"

I giggle, kissing the top of his head, "I'd definitely let you baby"

I happen to really enjoy having him inside my pussy

Even if we're just laying here

We don't have to have sex

Cock warming is a huge thing with us, it's something we both love

He lifts his head from my neck, smiling, then kissing me softly

I fall into his kiss as he begins to move, slowly pulling out a little bit then slamming back inside

His head hits my spot, stars blasting in my vision, every nerve on my body alive and electrified

With every stroke he pulls out more and more, until he pulls out to his head, then buries back inside me

He moves at a good pace, fucking me into the bed and my head is in the clouds from the sheer pleasure

He press kisses against every inch of skin he can, my body trembling under his lips

His hand slides slowly up my body from my waist, up my arm, his hand taking mine, intertwining our fingers

I close my hand around his, holding on tightly

His other arm is next to my head, leaning on it as he moves, thrusting into my pussy again and again

"Yoongi", I moan in bliss, closing my eyes as I just feel him

Feel his body against mine, his skin against mine, his cock moving inside me

I'm loving every single second of it

Each smack against my spot brings me closer, my legs tighting around his waist, my pussy throbbing around his cock hard

I'm so hot and sweaty, panting for breath, my fingers digging into his back, my other hand clenching his

"You're so fucking beautiful", he whispers

I open my eyes to find him looking down at me, watching, love pouring from his eyes, "My God, I'm so fucking lucky you're mine"

I smile shyly, "No naekkeo, I'm so lucky you're mine. I love you"

"I love you Jo", he murmurs, his lips finding mine

His kiss combined with him sliding back into me, right into my spot, have me shaking and coming on his thick cock

"Yoongi", I moan between kisses, the intense pleasure washing over me, my pussy clenching around him hard

He moans, his hips not stopping, rolling into me, fucking me through my orgasm

As the pleasure fades, I relax into the bed, Yoongi kissing all over my body as he pulls out

My skin jumps with every press of his lips, his hot kisses feeling so fucking good

He kisses my lower stomach, my hand finding its way into his damp hair, tangling in the strands

He moves down slowly, now pressing kisses against my pussy, pushing my legs wide open

I feel his tongue on me, licking up slowly, my body shivering in bliss

He groans loudly, his tongue moving a bit faster, "So fucking good"

"Yoongi", I whine, feeling so fucking good

My god, I missed this, missed him

His hands grip my legs tightly, his tongue dipping into my hole, my pussy clenching down on it immediately

He licks out and up, his tongue rolling over my clit, my body arching from the increased pleasure swarming over me

His tongue slides back down, circling my hole before dipping in, shoving as much in as he can, then pulling out, sliding up and flicking my clit

He repeats the motions over and over, my cunt getting wetter with every move of his talented tongue

I know I'm completely soaking his face and I know he loves it

"My baby tastes so good", he groans, tongue swirling around my clit, driving me fucking insane, "My baby's pussy is so fucking good. So fucking sweet"

God, he's so hot

The way he's so into eating me out makes everything feel ten times better

I like knowing that he really enjoys doing it instead of feeling like he has to

His tongue move faster, all over my clit, my hips moving on their own, fucking his face, knowing that this is another thing he loves

"Yes baby, fuck yes", he urges, "Don't stop jagi"

His mouth wraps around my clit, sucking hard and I scream his name, squirting a little on his face

"Mmm", he moans, his mouth moving faster, slurping around my clit, the pleasure so fucking intense, my entire body is shaking and my head is empty

I tug his hair tightly, his next suck sending me straight into a mind shattering orgasm

"Yoongi!", I scream, coming on his face, his tongue driving right into my hole, his mouth sucking and swallowing my cum

I can't think, don't know which way is up, all I can do is ride the waves of bliss

It's so intense, so mind numbingly pleasurable

God, Yoongi is the king of oral

His licking slows down as I finish, his eyes already on me when I look down at him

He smirks, kissing my inner thigh, his tongue licking up my cunt one more time

"So good jagi"

I sit up just as he does and I move closer to him, kissing him hard

His tongue moves in my mouth as I climb in his lap, pushing him down on the bed

I follow, kissing him silly, running my fingers in his sweaty hair

He moves me over his length and I sit, taking him in immediately

I'm so wet, I slide all the way down his cock so easily, moving my hips to rock on him

His hands grab my ass, holding on as his hips lift, keeping his cock as deep as he can inside me while I grind on him

Breaking the kiss, I lean on his shoulders, starting to bounce softly on his cock

"Fuck jagi", he groans, his fingers digging into my skin, "Fuck"

"God Yoongi", I cry, his cock spreading my pussy so deliciously, tingles are running up my spine, "So good baby, so fucking good"

He nods, his eyes glued on me as I ride him faster, harder, "Fuck baby, that pussy looks so good on my dick. Creaming my cock so much, it's pouring out of you"

It is, I can feel it, all over this cock, all over his lap, the sticky feeling making me so horny

"Mmm do you hear how loud your pussy is?", he asks as I indeed hear how loud the squelching is, "Fuck, missed me this much?"

"Yes naekkeo", I moan, grinding down on his cock when I take him all in, his head rubbing my spot, making my body shiver, "Missed you so fucking much"

"Missed you too jagi", he groans

"I know", I smirk, his throbbing cock so stiff inside my cunt, "I feel how much you missed me"

He smiles his gorgeous smile, his eyes travelling from my pussy up my body to my face

"So pretty baby", he says softly, "So good at riding my cock"

I smirk, nodding, our skin slamming together loudly with every move, "You know how much I love riding you"

He nods

It's our favorite position, the one we fuck in the most

I don't know, my legs do get tired sometimes but it takes awhile for that to happen and when it does, I still don't stop

I can get him in so much deeper, bounce on him, rock or grind on his dick

And he can fuck me too so it's not just me always fucking him

The best part, for me, is that I get to watch him

Watch him in pleasure, watch him cum

He's so fucking beautiful it's insane

And that's what I do now

Looking down at him, watching him in pleasure, the sight such a fucking turn on

His eyes closed, his head pushed back into the pillow, his mouth slightly open, breathing hard, his hair wet with sweat, his fingers digging into my hips, sweat shortening on his skin as he whimpers my name, begging me to not stop in his sexy voice

He's so fucking stunning without even trying

And he's all mine

Leaning down, I whisper in his ear, "Cum for me naekkeo"

"Oh god, fuck", he groans, holding my hips hard and thrusting up, meeting my bounces, sliding deep inside

We move together, fucking each other, both of us getting fucked out and desperate to cum, moaning loudly

"Yoongi! Yoongi!", I cry, unbelievable ecstacy slamming into every crevice of my body as he fucks me into an earth shattering orgasm

"Fuck Joanne! Jagi!", he cries, his cock pulsing, his warm cum filling me, his body shaking under me

I force my eyes open and watch the complete ethereal sight of him orgasming

I never want to miss seeing this

I rock on his cock, making the pleasure last a little longer for both of us, our bodies relaxing as the bliss so slowly leaves

I move off him but don't go far, snuggling in his arm, my head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat

His fingers run slowly up and down my back, giving me shivers

"When do we have to leave tomorrow?", I ask

He looks down at me, smiling, "Don't worry jagi, I got a later flight. 5 pm"

"Oh thank God", I giggle

He laughs, "I knew you'd want to spend as much time in bed together as you can"

I raise my eyebrow, "As if you don't want that either"

"Of course I want that baby", he agrees, "We can slack off for awhile, then I'll help you pack and we can go"

"Back to Texas?"

"California", he answers

I nod, "Ok"

"Ok", he nods

I gaze in his beautiful dark brown eyes, reaching up and running my fingers in his hair, "I love you so much Yoongi"

"I love you so much Jo. So fucking much"

I know he does

I'm so lucky to have found someone who loves me as much as I love them

Yoongi is the best thing that has ever happened to me

He's my everything

I lean closer, my lips against his in a soft loving kiss

His arms hold me tightly as he kisses me back and I'm so glad he came back for me

[astriiformes]

Been a while since I cried in one of the school libraries but some things are eternal I guess.

I am... struggling with school this semester, which is discouraging and frustrating after two pretty solid semesters that made me feel like I was getting back on track. Right now I've got three assignments I really need to do, several hours to do them before orchestra tonight, and I just... can't muster the ability to work on them.

Some of it is exhaustion. I also missed my classes today because I physically couldn't wake up this morning, and I'm getting really worried about that, too, because it's becoming a trend this semester and I've missed a lot of class. But a lot of it is just the fact that my ADHD is completely out of control. I can't do assignments. I'm late to everything, all the time. I can't focus enough to do readings for class. I forget about important meetings and appointments,

My therapist really wants me to work on the shame I have around my ADHD, but it's so hard when it is completely hindering my ability to succeed at things that are important to me. The one thing I managed to make it to today was a grad school application help hour with career services and it was helpful, but I also am feeling a little despair at the idea of hyping myself up in my applications, because it feels frustratingly disingenuous. I don't know that I am a good candidate, actually, even though this is something I really want.

In any case. Not doing amazing today, and really not feeling great about myself. Could maybe use some encouragement.

[jasyred]

There are few things in life that will never change, no matter how hard we try.

For example me waking up to muffled screams and yells and abuses at five in the morning. I groan, pulling my blanket over my head, hoping it'll drown out the unwanted sounds. I turn to other side, pressing my good ear against the pillow, letting the silence of my other ear offer me a small, bitter comfort. It's times like these I'm almost glad for being partially deaf.

I train my brain to go back to sleep, try to stop it from turning those bitter gibberish thrown from other room into something that makes sense, because I do not want to hear it.

I fail. Miserably.

I suck in a sharp breath, unlocking my phone, my thumb wondering on it's own what to do. It takes every cell in my body to not exhaust myself just in the morning yet, and I close my phone.

Golden afternoon, a busy road, blaring horns and loud people. Noise. So much noise.

I clutch on the strap of my backpack, adjusting it on my shoulders. The items in the bag poke my back through it, and I realise it's really stuffy, the items poking through all directions.

Just like my chest. Uncomfortably stuffy, something poking at me from inside, threatening to tear at the flesh and bleed out.

I take a deep breath, eyes trained on the road.

Maybe it was a one time situation, a false alarm? Because of stress?

My mind feels back to the conversation with my gynaecologist.

Stress.

The multiple silver strands of hair in my head spoke volumes. I should be alarmed. I'm only twenty one.

My eyes dart around everything in sight, trying to bring myself out of my head. I don't want to be in my head. Don't want the train of thoughts to wander where I don't want them to. To open the boxes i closed off tightly. To crash into them altogether.

I smoothen out my black jacket, looking around. My boots feel heavier, pulling my feet against the earth more than gravity. Is that why my thighs hurt?

My eyes dart around everything in sight, and I try to force my mind not to look for meanings. Meaning behind the way someone is talking. The bright red color. The awfully bright green gooseberry. That person walking by. The person eating in a corner.

A subtle realisation dawns on me and I force it away, closing my eyes. I breathe out.

I had made a promise to someone. That I'd make sure their life has an happy ending. I made that promise my purpose to live. To hold on.

But they crossed the bridge sooner than I could make sure of it.

I wince physically.

My mind was looking for a purpose. Forcefully looking for a meaning to this life. Forcefully looking for something to hold on to.

I continue walking, my arms crossed against my chest like some sort of barrier. I wonder what kind of look I had on my face right now. Was it neutral? Was it my resting sad face? Was I smiling?

Can't tell.

The more I try to stay present in the moment, the more something from inside clawed on me. Bitter red dripping slowly from the cracks.

The more I looked at people, the more my jaw clenched. What the fuck are they so nonchalant about? How are you living so blissfully while being oblivious? Why the fuck are you smiling at me? What the hell is there to be happy about—

I sigh. Stopping in my tracks.

You're being a bad person again. My conscience gnaws at me.

I clutch onto my stomach.

You're being a bad admin.

To hell with your numb.

I squeeze my eyes shut, running a hand over my face. Then proceed to walk through an alley.

I don't know how many "I didn't mean to. I don't want to" are left in me. How many explanations in my defence are left.

Grief has a way of making every emotion go haywire. Messing up the brain. Especially when you're trying to keep everything at bay.

I don't think I'll be explaining myself anymore.

My chest tightens and I stop in my tracks, breathing harshly. There was a little pendulum going back and forth between two glass containers inside me. Containers that had multiple cracks in them. I like to call them grief and suppressed rage. They were shattered and were barely held together with a single breath of mine. This single breath was also holding onto the force of the pendulum. Keeping it steady.

I stand still. Very still.

Don't go. Because if you do, I'll fall apart. I'll shatter completely.

Something cracks in me again and I suck in a sharp breath. I'm trying my very best. Absolute best to keep the broken pieces together. To not have them burst in million direction, in so many fine particles that it becomes impossible, for anyone, including myself to put it back together.

I can't afford to let loose right now. Not right now. Not right now—

My phone buzzes with a text.

An unknown number.

My eyes zero in the profile.

A fucking unwanted number.

a goddamn ex.

A clear indication that some bastard very casually gave away my number breaching my privacy.

My jaw clenches and I try to cool myself, twisting the ring on my finger, my thumb brushing against the pointed bump on the front of the ring, bringing it out in the open. Everything in my sight was testing my patience.

I look at screen with messages popping up. I press the block button.

Humans are fucking lucky I'm just a weak, painfully patient person who hates the idea of getting blood on my hands and can't tolerate it anywhere near me.

[vaporwavedoggie]

Ahahahah I should probably explain why I'm not on here as much atm, along with most of my other social media.

It's gonna be long but I know I have some folks on here worried about me so I'll put everything under the cut.

Alright buckle up, this will get long.

To shorten things, my chronic pain is significantly getting worse very quickly, along with heart issues.

Not to mention my shit mental health.

But here's the long story:

There's something up with my heart. I don't know exactly what the diagnosis will be, I have a few more tests including a fun little holter monitor placement or whatever it's called.

It's where I wear this monitor over my heart for a few days and press a button whenever I start having flareups. My flareups consist of my blood pressure suddenly dropping very low (I think the lowest it was clocked was somewhere in the 80s/60s range if I remember correctly), headaches, bad chest pain, limb weakness/numbness, sudden exhaustion/passing out, etc.

They did an echo on my heart but the results didn't tell me much other than I have a dialated left atrium. No idea what that means, don't know if it's even related to the shit going on with me. I won't find out until the other tests are done and looked over.

I'm going as far as to try and give up cigarettes for the time being for this. My doc gave me a ton of nicotine patches, so I'm really hoping those will help with the urges. I'm going to be going from smoking about half a pack or so a day to patches that are 7mg of nic, so uhhh yeah.

Another reason why I'm distancing myself from online spaces more other than my personal discord servers is because stressful stuff, discourse, all that makes my flareups much much worse. I'm doing it not to be a bitch, but for my own health. So for a bit I'll probably only post art I occasionally draw n what not.

Now on to the other issues. My lower back keeps me in damn near constant chronic pain. They did an xray on it, and my MyChart (fun little doctor app) said this about their findings:

"Vertebral body heights and alignment are well-maintained. No fracture or subluxation. Pedicles are intact. Mild loss of disc height at L5-S1."

I'm not entirely sure if that's anything important, again, I go to my pcp about it in the beginning of October since there's a few more issues they'd like to test me for before coming to a diagnosis and treating me.

As for my back pain though, it's to the point where it's nearly disabling me physically.

I've had it for many years. Idk exactly when it all started, but I really started noticing it around the time I was 19-20. I have a theory it's because one of my first jobs that I worked for about a year was at a warehouse. It was very physical labor.

I'd be lifting heavy boxes constantly to the point where when I got home I couldn't bend down from the pain. I'd just have to flop down on my bed and pass out. And this went on about 4 days a week for a year.

At first, it started off as a small patch on my lower back, at the base of my spine, not being able to be touched. The gentlest poke would feel like stabbing pain. And it only got worse over the years, with the area spreading.

Now it's to the point where I can't stand for long, and when I sit or lay down I have to shift my position every 10-20 minutes or it flares up. And I dread going to sleep for a number of reasons. Not just because of the night terrors I have damn near every night due to my CPTSD, but because I wake up in excruciating pain most of the time due to not being able to shift my body in my sleep.

Worst part is, when I sleep, I'm dead to the world. If the night terrors aren't too horrible that night, I'm like a rock. No one can move me. Lord knows my husband has tried. And I'll sleep for about 12-20+ hours at a time at this point.

Funny thing is? No matter how much sleep I get, even if I get the base recommended amount without under or over sleeping, I'm ALWAYS exhausted.

My doc has sent a referral for me to get a sleep study but they have yet to reach out to me. I suspect this may also contribute to my heart issues but idk for sure.

So yeah. It's not enough that I deal with shitty mental health issues on a constant, but also chronic physical health issues as well.

Worst part is my family is borderline poverty. Despite everything I'm STILL trying to get a job because my family needs the money, along with others in the house, including my oldest son and teenage son.

Yet for whatever reason, everyone claims they're hiring, yet won't hire any of us. For me, I understand. I always struggled to keep a job due to various issues. But my sons have a completely clean slate, and my roomie has a great resume with plenty of long history, yet no one will hire anyone. Not even McDonald's.

People act like it's all us. We try everything we can, from dressing up in our nicest clothes for the interview, following up with the job, being friendly, giving the interviewer our skills. Worst part is they act like they're fucking impressed, then turn around and claim they've decided to go with someone more qualified for the position, or they're not hiring anymore.

Yes, I know I'll hurt myself if I try working a job and pushing myself beyond my limits every day, but it's taking too damn long for disability to do shit. Disability is very hard to get in Texas for whatever reason and God it's stupid. It usually takes a minimum of 2-3 years for most, and we don't have that time.

The price of rent, groceries, and everything else keeps skyrocketing, yet my roomies won't get a raise on their disability, my husband won't get a raise on his job other than just a few cents once a year.

We're living by the skin of our teeth. Paycheck to paycheck. Most of our food comes from various food banks in the area we make multiple trips to a week.

Then when it comes to my mental health issues, I'm handling it the best that I possibly can.

My CPTSD has been flaring up. Then there's the other shit going on with my head I won't get into.

I'm nearly constantly haunted by trauma and I'm so fucking tired of it. I have to keep myself busy or it creeps into my mind. And I have somnophobia because every time I sleep I'm almost guaranteed to have a night terror. No, prasosin won't help.

Anyways that's a small portion of the shit im going through and why I probably won't be online much until I get shit sorted out.

Is it weird to be the happiest you've ever been in your life, yet also the most miserable??

[heartshattering]

I still haven't found a solution for being fatigued all the time. Caffeine doesn't help, doctors don't help, literally nothing helps and I'm at the end of my fucking rope. I just don't know what to do anymore.

I can't take prescription stimulants because I'd be putting my heart at risk but sometimes it really is tempting to see if I could go to a new doctor and not tell them about my history of arrhythmia and see if they'd prescribe me something (but I won't since 1 - I'm too scared and 2 - it's not like doctors here ever want to prescribe anything either way, IF you're even lucky enough to see a doctor since the waiting lists are long af).

I feel like I've been spending all day sleeping, and when I am awake, I'm absolutely useless. I have constant headaches, I feel physically uncomfortable all the time (too hot, too sweaty, too itchy), and nothing makes me feel 'good' anymore. My only relief is sleep, and even then it doesn't do much for me since I still wake up tired, sometimes even more tired than before thanks to my nightmares.

Idk, it's just disheartening to have to deal with this because this is seriously interfering with my life. And I feel like I can't do anything about it. I'll always be the person in the house who needs the least amount of help. My mom can't get out of bed so of course she needs the most assistance. My aunt is depressed because her husband died so she gets all the sympathy from people. And then my dad is working all the time so of course he has a ~real~ reason to be tired while I don't (even though he literally only 'works' so that he doesn't have to be around us, and spends most of the time doing stupid shit in his office like arguing in the comments).

Every day the list of stuff to do piles up, to the point where it's barely even fun anymore. Things I used to enjoy feel like chores now. I can't catch up with that series I love, because I always end up falling asleep while trying to concentrate on it. I can't try out that new game my friends are all talking about, because my brain feels too drained to figure out how to play it and I'm embarrassed that I'd just slow them down. I can't self-study topics that normally I'd enjoy, because my brain just isn't absorbing anything and it makes me feel so fucking overwhelmed.

Then, there's the ACTUAL chores... I can't clean my room, I can't keep things organized, I feel too exhausted to cook. My hygiene has gone down the drain, like I currently feel disgusting right now but I can't do anything about it. I haven't done laundry in the longest time, all my used clothes are piled up and they smell like (and possibly actually have) mold.

I take care of my mom and my dog, but that's it... when it comes to taking care of myself, I just can't. And everything feels like too fucking much.

[bonobonoyaatheart]

Am I a burden? - Jung Hoseok

Summary: You can't help but feel insecure due to Hoseok's insane success. This leads you to overworking yourself. But at the end of the day, Hoseok is gonna be your safe heaven.

Pairing: Idol Hoseok x Gn Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt comfort. Idol AU

Word count: 0.6k

You had been acting weird. Hoseak had sensed something was off, but he was waiting for you to open up. In two years of dating you, he had learnt one thing : you never hid anything, you just needed time to sort stuff out in your Head. He understood it and patiently waited. Every passing day, you were getting busier, more exhausted and distant, and this was worrying him.

You dropped your bag besides couch as you came home and collapsed onto it. Hoseok wasn't home yet. You made no efforts to get up and change clothes or get something to eat. You just let yourself rest there. You were too tired; both mentally and physically, to do anything else.

Hoseok came back to find you laying on sofa. He picked you up and carried you to your shared room. You were burning up. He tried to wake you up, but you were in a such a deep slumber that nothing could wake your up at that moment.

Within a few minutes, Hoseok was preparing some soup for you in kitchen. You were really light sleeper so something was definately wrong with you sleeping like you are passed out. He put the medicines and soup on the table and tried waking you up again. You stirred and opened your eyes, still drowsy. "Here." Hoseok handed you the capsules. You stared at him blankly. "You have a fever baby, you need to take these." He said softly. You nodded slowly. Hoseok draped his hand over your shoulder. "You sure you're all fine jagi?" You looked down, mumbling, "I don't know." Suddenly feeling your eyes well up. "It's ok, I am always here, you know." Hoseok gave you a soft smile, opening his arms for you.

You scooted closer to him, resting your head on his chest. "Is there anything you wanna tell me? No pressure, just tell me anything you feel you wanna." You let out sigh. "Am I a loser Hobi? Am I a burden?"

"No!" He exclaimed, taken aback by your question. "You are the most hard working and sweetest person. I've ever met! Why do you even think like that? Are these thoughts causing this exhaustion?" He was shocked that stuff like this came to your mind in the first place.

"Hobi.... You are a kpop idol, insanely talented. and earning a lot. Seeing you there, makes me feel like I am doing nothing with my life. I try to do more and prove myself but that only adds to my exhaustion. I am so tired Hobi.... I want to show you I am capable but I end up being a weak loser "

"Hey, hey, first of all you are doing amazing already. I know how talented you are. You don't have to prove anything. And when It's hurting you? Never do that. You are NOT a loser. You are NEVER a burden to me. I love you so much . You know right? " He wrapped his arms around you.

You rested in his embrace, feeling all your exhaustion melt away. He patted your head. "Soup is getting cold baby. Come on take this." You pulled away, feeling better than before. Hobi was your comfort zone, afterall...

A/N: Reblog and share if you like, and let me know what you think about this!

[apprenticestanheight]

Good News - Chainshipping

Ooooookay!! This was born of an idea I had m o n t h s ago but then I tried to write it (I feel like it's one of the chainshipping fics I have here but I can't remember) and it went in a different direction and, as I usually tend to do, I gave it as close to a happy ending as I was willing and able.

This, however? nah. I haven't cried for a serious reason (this is very serious to me!!) in a good bit so. here we have this. To the anon who sent in a req for heavy chainshipping angst, the concept of this fic was brought back around into the handy dandy mental space because of you and I hope you like it!

Title was riffed from the song Good News by Julien Baker, by which this fic is not directly inspired (I listened to it while writing this fic,, at least the start) but might have a similar vibe to.

Fic type - this is straight out angst with maybe a cathartic and kind of hopeful end?? idk but I know that it's all angst until the last scene and even then, the angst is still present there.

Warnings - mentions of drugs and drug use (morphine is mentioned once in a hospital setting and weed is mentioned a lot), addiction is referenced (both in Gabrielas case and also in Adam talking about being borderline addicted to his pain meds and his weed dependency not being a dependency but more an addiction), and this is fairly time-jumpy bc every scene takes place at a slightly different time than the last, which is clarified! The second half is probably not that great in terms of proofreading and editing, this one is hot off the press (I finished it, went to type up the authors note, and rushed to post bc I want this out of my brain) and might not be super good bc I don't doubt that I've missed a few things.

The first thing that Adam registers when he wakes up is a white-hot, raging pain that starts in his shoulder and manages to radiate down his arm til it reaches the nerve endings in his fingers. The second thing he registers is the feeling of someones hand, holding tightly onto one of his own--not the one that's in pain, thank fuck--and the sound of their breathing, somehow both quick and laboured at the same time.

The third thing he registers is a tube shoved down his throat. The second he registers that, the anxiety sets in. He forces his hand out of the grasp of the person who's holding onto it and tries to grab at the tube like his life depends on it, because for a second, he feels like it does.

"Adam," a voice whispers. He blinks his eyes open, turns in the direction of the voice, but it takes a few seconds for the image to blur into focus. "Adam--it's a breathing tube, keeping your lungs from collapsing. Relax, honey."

He stills when he realizes who it is. It's his mother, who he hasn't seen in almost a decade.

He glares at her for a second, but then he hears the resoundingly soft click! of a button, and five minutes later, a glorious-adjacent high sets in. Adam figures out as the haze takes him over that a morphine button is somewhere near his bed, is grateful for it despite the lingering confusion.

"Rest up," she says. "I'll be here until you fall asleep, okay? And I promise not to bug you after. I just heard you'd been found and I needed to see that for myself."

Adam lets sleep take him over--he's pretty much confined to his bed, and while he hates it, he knows he has no other choice, really, and the exhaustion creeps up on him before he can even register it.

--

A few long weeks go by, and by the time he's discharged from the hospital and complete with the necessary physical therapy to rehabilitate his arm and make sure his shoulder is working right, it's the very beginning of December.

Part of him wonders where Lawrence is--did he make it out? Was cutting his foot off worth it in the end? They're things he wonders about late at night, when the insomnia takes over and he resists the urge to climb out onto his fire escape and smoke as many joints as he can in order to sleep without fucking up his liver.

He doesn't go to therapy right out the gate, doesn't even think to do it for those first few weeks, when his doctor is checking in on him every single morning when their shift starts and every evening when it ends, when a psychiatrist comes in once every few days and tries to help him process the memories that he'd taken to vehemently avoiding.

But then, on the walk home from one of Scotts concerts, he sees an ad posting for a Jigsaw support group. It's the next day, runs from seven to nine, and the church basement it's held in is only five minutes down the road from his apartment.

He decides he'll go, part of him gunning for the mere thought of seeing Lawrence--a Jigsaw support group would be exactly the kind of place Lawrence would go after experiencing something so traumatic as the goings on of that bathroom. It's the one surefire spot Adam is betting on, but he tries to stop himself.

He doesn't know what's happened to Lawrence, not really. Lawrence hasn't reached out and Adam has made no effort to do the same for fear of rejection. He figures he could ask around at the support group, holds onto the off chance that someone there knows him or at least knows what happened, somehow.

As he gets undressed, opting to wear a pair of sweatpants and a basic black shirt, he knows that he, realistically, has no valid reason to speculate on the state of Lawrences well being, if there even is a well being upon which to speculate. If he wants to hear from Lawrence--which he does, more than anything--then he can do either of two things. He can wait for Lawrence to reach out, or he can try to do it himself.

He goes to sleep, telling himself he'll look through the phone book before he goes to work tomorrow.

--

Looking through the phone book doesn't yield much--it yields a number with a voicemail that hasn't been updated since the mid-nineties, at least, which is enough to make him laugh depressedly because mid-nineties Lawrence is not the Lawrence he knew, but the one that had existed about five years beforehand.

The support group meeting is, surprisingly, decent. He sits, for two hours, in a room full of people who understand what he's gone through. He shares his own story for the first time, breathes himself through the roughened edges and the sharp points that threaten to stab him in the chest when he thinks about it.

Talking about it, he realizes, is good for him, like the psychiatrist had said it might turn out to be. He goes home feeling the full weight of that day, which is something that he hates more than he hates himself, but he also feels a little vindicated.

The next two meetings go like that as well--Adam talks, warms up a bit slower than butter left on the counter to thaw after having spent many-a-week at the bottom of a large-capacity freezer.

At the end of December, the day after Christmas, it's the groups last meeting of the year and the first with a newcomer since Adam came along at the beginning of the month.

The newbie sits next to him, and he doesn't really bother to notice them, figures he'll pay more attention when they speak a little bit and focuses instead on sipping his coffee, focuses loosely on the delight he feels at the thought of the support groups carrot muffins that they bring out for people to eat at around 8:30, at which point the group kind of disperses to talk amongst themselves.

The instructor is a guy named Paul, and he's 35 and balding. He claims to be one of Jigsaws first survivors, having been tested around '99. Adam doesn't really believe it--Jigsaws first recorded victim would've been around early 2000, if a little bit later into that year, but he digresses. If someone or multiple someones want to pretend to be his victims, Jigsaw and his followers will take matters into their own hands eventually, be it in the name of revenge or some twisted kind of retribution.

He notices the newbie, and like he did when Adam was new, he singles her out in a way that she probably won't realize was him doing so until later, just like Adam had that first meeting.

"My name is Gabriela," she says. "I'm from Mexico. I came to New Jersey to get away from my life there--I couldn't take it."

The admission makes Paul smile softly, nod like he understands even though Adam knows, from his New Yorkian accent, that it's the farthest he's travelled between there and Jersey.

"And we're all here to support you through your troubles," he says. "Why were you tested?"

"I'd rather not--" Gabriela pauses. Adam looks at her, studies her, and sees a few scars lining her face. "I was cruel to him. I was part of the Pederson project and struggled with an addiction. He tested me and my friends at the beginning of October. Most of them died."

"The Pederson project?" Paul asks. "Whats that?"

"Something--" tears well up in her eyes, and Adam, on impulse, reaches a hand out and grabs hers. She looks at him then, stark brown eyes meeting his own. Adam has a thought that she looks like a deer in headlights. "I--I was desperate for money. I did what I thought I had to do, and then he made me pay the price."

"I lost someone too, I think," Adam laughs. "My trap mate. His name was Lawrence, and I can't figure out if he's alive or not. I watched him cut off his foot."

Gabriela smiles. Adam glances at Paul, briefly, and shrugs.

"Maybe she won't be as quick to open up as I was," he says. "Give her time."

Paul nods once, and their interactions end. Gabriela keeps a hold on Adams hand and Adam lets her, remembering what it was like in those first couple of weeks after--hell, he's still technically in that rough spot, but it's at least a little better than it was, even if it's still shit.

Yeah, Adam can't really take showers or baths yet, and yeah, that means he's had to use strawberry scented make up wipes to keep himself smelling not-rancid, and dry shampoo to keep his hair from being a greasy mop on his head, but it's better.

His shoulder hurts all the time, but it's not the pain he woke up with that first day. Every nightmare is worse than the last, but at least he's getting two hours of sleep a night now instead of a maximum of 30 minutes. He has to go against himself, go against his natural sense of pessimism and he has to choose optimism or he won't be able to keep going.

Optimism, taking the wins where he can, is what has kept him going for the past ten weeks. It kept him sane when he was trapped in the dark, and it's kept him sane ever since.

When the meeting ends, Gabriela stays close, which is something she's trying to be covert about but Adam notices. He doesn't let it irritate him as he gets more coffee, as he eats his carrot muffin and talks to Amanda Young, a girl who'd been in a trap only a few weeks before he had. He stays behind to help Paul and the others stack up their chairs and sweep the floor just in case, and Gabriela winds up staying.

She finally gets the nerve to talk to him about two seconds after he's left the church basement, has gone to sit in the pews that are empty of anyone. He hates churches, normally, but this one is oddly comforting when it's either nearly or totally empty. It's quiet in the same way the world is after snow has fallen, which is a quiet Adam has long appreciated.

"How do you deal with it?" she asks. She's sitting in the pew behind him, her hood tucked over her head to cover her hair. "I've been trying to since the start of October, when it happened, and I just--I don't know how."

"Well, first off, Jersey was about the worst place you could've wound up in," Adam laughs a little. "Most of his crimes take place in and around the general area of Jersey, but he's not the type to test people twice, as far as I know, so don't let my assholery get to you too much about that. Secondly, I'd probably argue I'm not much better than you. I was addicted to nicotine when I went in, and I've come out with something a bit worse for my liver and my lungs both."

It makes Gabriela laugh. "I'm at the hospital a lot for skin grafts," she says. "I got insurance, somehow, so I'm not drowning in debt, but I had to tell them I couldn't have any pain medication for after. I even thought anaesthesia was risky for some time."

"I had to call and get my medical bills reduced to a point where I could pay them off," Adam says. "I work in a bookstore now, and I have insurance from them as of the new year. It'll cover my meds, which I'm grateful for. We got some pretty short sticks in the game of life, but we didn't get the shortest ones."

"You don't seem like an optimistic person," Gabriela says. "You don't look like one, I mean."

"I'm not, usually," Adam says. "But until I hear that my trap mate is dead, I'm gonna choose to be optimistic because he would want me to be, dead or alive. Until I have proof that he's gone, I'm going to keep my optimism lined up with the idea that he's alive at the forefront of it's existence."

"What if he's not?" Gabriela asks. "What after that?"

"Then--fuck, I don't know. I become pessimistic and nihilistic, I guess? Jigsaw tests me again, maybe, if it gets that bad. I think, if he does, I'll fail on purpose that time. He'd better make damn sure that it's fucking fair that time around, though--no leaving the key to my chained up foot in the full fucking bathtub again, or I'll survive it just to spite the bastard."

Gabriela laughs again. Adam gets up and walks home, back to his sad little apartment.

He has to roll and smoke two over-the-top joints just to not spiral, conks right the fuck out at 9:45 on the dot.

--

It's the middle of January when Adam gets something in his mailbox. He grabs it along with the newspaper and doesn't really check the labelling on either, too caught up in the idea of checking his voicemails after remembering he has a landline that he hasn't used in five months, since he'd gotten a cheap Motorola and used that to make most of his calls.

So, he drops the mail on his kitchen counter top, grabs the landline and checks his voicemails.

The first couple are from his mother, one of which was back around when he was in the trap--sent a few days before, one he could halfheartedly remember giving a listen to before he was taken. His mother telling him his father wasn't angry anymore, like that would even begin to make up for a decades worth of anger from Adams childhood up until when he left.

It's the most recent one that gets his attention whip-quick. "Hi, Adam," it's Lawrences voice--not mid-nineties Lawrence, either. Lawrence from that day or at least a week or two after, the one Adam knows.

"I don't know if you were expecting this call, or if you'll even pay any mind to this voicemail, but I found your name in the phone book, and I heard you'd been rescued, and I just--I needed to call, okay? You don't have to understand, that's fine, but I just wanted to make sure you understood how sorry I am. I'm sorry to have left you to die like that, and I can't even begin to think about all of the ways you've been affected in the aftermath without getting anxious palpitations. I should've found a way to save you, and I'll regret not having done so for the rest of my life, okay? I just wanted to make sure you knew that I regretted it, and to make sure you understand that if I could go back and do it differently, I would do so in a millisecond without a moments hesitation."

Adam is so relieved to hear his voice that he almost cries--Lawrences voice is rough on the edges, ooey-gooey and warm at the centre, and it almost does him in completely.

"In another universe, I go ahead and visit you instead of leaving you a voicemail like a damn coward, but that's not this universe, and I'm sorry for it. You don't need to call me back, all right? I just needed to call and make sure I said my peace."

The voicemail beeps and ends and Adam hangs up the phone, fights the urge to lose his mind a little but keeps himself in check just long enough to check his mail, read the letter addressed to him.

It, shockingly, is from Alison, Lawrences wife.

I had a PI locate your address, it reads. He's in the hospital--his leg got infected and it spread like wildfire. I'd come and see him before the month was out if I were you, but if I'm being honest, I really don't think he'll make it more than another week. Come as soon as you can, to give him some peace of mind. He's staying at Saint Mercy-East, and the receptionist has been told to let you in when you come around.

Alison Baker (formerly Gordon)

Adam gives in. He lets himself cry until he can't, knows that he'll have to call into work just to see Lawrence. He has to do it. Lawrence is alive, if just barely, and he needs to see him in person one last time before the only rendition of Lawrence that he can see is a headstone.

--

Witnessing a person in palliative care is a lot more nerve-wracking than Adam first expects. Lawrence is barely awake, occasionally shifting in his hospital bed, and his skin looks grey and sullen. His breathing is laboured and a little loud, and when Adam looks at him, he feels himself cracking just a little. Adams heart breaks as he sits in the plastic chair to Lawrences left, grabs his hand and holds onto it as tightly as he thinks he can handle without breaking down.

"Hey," he whispers. "I just wanted to come down--Allison told me where you were staying, what had happened with your leg, and I figured I'd come and see you for at least half an hour."

Lawrence stills.

"I'm just gonna talk for a bit, okay?" Adam laughs at himself. "I've never done anything like this before, so I don't really know what to do."

Lawrence looks at him. His blue eyes are dull and gray and so sorrowful that it damn near kills Adam from the inside out. He realizes that Lawrence probably knows he's not got long left, if his infection has left him that lucid. Lawrence Gordon, someone who used to be sarcastic and quippy and so full of life, Adam heartbreakingly realizes, very likely knows he's dying.

"You seemed to want me to be okay in the voicemail you left," Adam says. "I just--I want you to know that I am. I'm on meds because of chronic shoulder pain and I deal with my earned amount of PTSD stuff, but I'm okay. I work in that cute little bookstore across the way from the Aldi near the heart of the city, the one that looks real small on the outside but inside is actually kind of huge? It's called Romeros, and I've got insurance and PTO and all of that shit."

Lawrence smiles gently. Adam keeps going.

"I take photos of stray cats pretty much exclusively now," he says. "And I go to a support group to help me deal with the PTSD stuff. If you've been worried, you don't need to be anymore. I'm on the path to learning how to be okay, and it was just really important to me for you to know that. I don't want to lose you when it feels like I've just gotten you back, but this is probably gonna be the only time I visit. I love you, dude."

Adam squeezes Lawrences hand just a bit tighter.

He stays with Lawrence from the beginning of visiting hours til Lawrences heart gives out near their end. Adam watches, in a panic, as the doctors go about protocol for a DNR.

In the end, Adam is still in the room when a nurse says the unthinkable.

"Time of death: 18:04 PM, January 15th."

And then, just like that, Adam has to face a reality he's spent the last several months not wanting to confront, hating the very idea of.

Lawrence Gordon is dead. He's gone, and there's nothing Adam can do about it.

--

Adam can't pull himself together enough to go to the funeral. He receives an invite in the mail initially, then a copy of Lawrences obituary and the address to where he's been buried a few weeks later.

Grief, he finds, is an ugly little thing. It makes him a bit more dependent on the weed than normal, closes him off at the support group and makes him volatile on his worst nights because he hates it. He hates that he has to grieve at all, really.

Lawrence had managed to survive that bathroom. He'd mustered up the strength to cut his own foot off, and God repaid him with an infection of what remained of that leg spreading through his body and killing him? He'd survived cutting off his own foot just to die four months later? That feels like bullshit to Adam, and he hates it.

Eventually, when the anger isn't all consuming, he leaves his apartment. He stops and buys a few flowers from a convenience store, and then he goes and visits Lawrences grave.

LAWRENCE GORDON

LOVING HUSBAND, FATHER, AND SON

He sets the flowers down, reads the lettering engraved on the stone.

"I've been dealing with a lot since you passed," Adam says. He sits down in front of the head stone, careful in the motions. He runs his hands over a newly buzzed head, the hair having grown out past it's due and the cheapest option having been to take a pair of clippers to it instead of getting it cut. "Uh--I just kind of wanted to stop by for a second. I don't know if I'll ever do this again, but I kind of thought I owed it to you a little bit."

Jersey is riding out the coattails of winter now, the grass dotted with snow, but Adam doesn't really care. It's sunny out and there's an icy breeze to go with it, but it's a nice day, everything else considered.

"I've been closed off from it all--I hate thinking about you right now because your death feels like bullshit," Adam laughs. "You survived everything from that day, just as well as I did, and yet you're dead from an infection in your stump that'd radiated through the rest of your body before you could stop it, and I'm still alive. You're dead and in the ground and I'm alive and borderline addicted to the pain meds I use for my shoulder and so dependent on weed that it's long teetered past a dependency. It feels unfair."

If anyone, Lawrence should be the one who got to stay alive.

"Up until you died, after the support group was done, I'd leave the church basement and go into the church itself. I'd always sit in an empty pew and just watch," he says. "They had a candle vigil at the front, and sometimes survivors who'd gone to the support group would light candles for their trap mates who hadn't made it. I have a friend, Gabriela, who lights candles after every meeting. She whispers their names, too. Valentina. Mateo. She even lights one for the only other not-jackass survivor, named Diego."

He feels really dumb. Like--the dumbest he's ever felt dumb, but he just keeps talking.

"I don't know if I'll ever do it, but I think someday I might. Alison hates you, even though she was kind to you in your last days, and both of your parents are gone, so it kind of feels like I'm the only person who knew you that can remember you without feeling disdain. If I light one of those stupid little tea candles, you'd better show me a fuckin' sign, even though I don't believe in that shit. I love you, Lawrence, but I'm not going to risk burning my finger on a Dollar Tree match if you don't make it worth it."

He laughs at himself, shakes his head. "I'm going to go to a meeting," he says as he gets up. "Maybe open up a little bit. Have fun doing whatever it is your doing on the other side of this God awful, relentless mortal coil."

--

Adam doesn't open up in support group that day--the wounds are still too fresh to bear, and he doesn't think he'll be able to talk about Lawrence for another very long while, but at least he admits it to himself.

He follows Gabriela to the vigil that night, though. She has an arm around his waist, holds onto him like she's scared he's going to fall apart. He's a bit scared of falling apart, too, if he's honest, so he just lets her.

She lights a match, goes about lighting the candles one by one. Valentina. Mateo. Diego.

She blows the match out, passes Adam the matchbox.

He takes it, strikes the match alight with the sandpaper on the side, and picks the candle closest to his right.

"Lawrence," he says gently as he lights it.

It doesn't feel like closure--not exactly, anyway--and he's sure nothing ever will. He knows that he'll feel pain every time he thinks of Lawrence for the next while, at least, but he has to learn to be okay with that or the pain will never go away.

That match, that candle? He knows they're just the first steps and that he has a long way to go, but he's fine with that. His grief and everything that's come of it can take as long as they need, he decides. He'll give himself a little bit of grace and allow at least that.

[hel-phoenyx]

Domhildr belongs to @soupedepates, Oli to @thal-ent and Meili to @azeler, Kaizarz (mentioned) belongs to @corneille-but-not-the-author

Okay.

Maybe almost fainting in front of Domhildr as she was getting out of her shift was a bad idea.

For my defense, I didn't expect my body to react so strongly to just the amount of energy needed for digestion. Like I know I haven't slept in a week, but still, feeeling that dizzy right after eating ? Did I really not take care of my body properly ?

Point is she didn't let that slide. Like, at all. As soon as I was on the ground she called Meili. She never calls Meili, usually. And then while waiting on him she warned Oli she wouldn't be back tonight, for what ? I asled myself in the middle of my dizziness.

The result is we're currently at my home. It's morning after. And I've never heard that much noise in my kitchen before, even when Kaizarz was there and hellbent on finding my sugar and sweets stash to make us hot chocolates.

When I woke up, it was noon. I am so late on the thesis. Yet, I can't get out of bed. Why ? Because Meili is right next to me looking at me with those military officer eyes. The kind that say "obey orders or I'll kill you".

Not gonna lie, I've never done well with orders. I wanna get up and come back to my desk just to see how he will react. But my body isn't answering to me anymore. I can't even lift my head.

Meili squints seeing me awake.

"Don't you dare move."

I smile. Gods, the amount of energy needed is astounding. What the fuck is this sudden weakness ?!

"Or what... you're gonna pin me to bed ? Go ahead... I'm still stronger that you..."

"Clearly not in that state, and don't make me tie you up to the bedframe."

"Didn't know you were into that..."

His grimace is awful. I probably should have closed my big ass mouth. Why is it than when I'm tired I don't have any filter anymore. I almost told Kaizarz I loved him last time, goddamnit !

Anyway, I better shut up before I say something I regret. Meili looks pissed enough.

"Don't you dare start that gay shit with me, Tyr. You're fucking exhausted, you need to rest. Domhildr is whipping something in the kitchen for you, and Oli is trying to choose a movie we would all like."

"Damn... Since how much time are they trying ?"

"Three hours. We almost reached a consensus, so be a dear and don't ruin this for us."

When do I ever. But I'm too tired for this. And if I move a muscle, Meili is getting out the whip, anyway, I see in in his eyes. You can take a man out of army, but never army out of man...

Bed is too comfortable anyway, and my limbs too heavy. I wouldn't be able to move even if I really, really wanted to.

The second reason is that I won't have time. Domhildr just stormed in the room, a tray covered in food in hand. She made hamburgers with double steak and eggs, and fries on the side. Mine is covered in curry sauce, my favorite.

"Still think you're an heretic for what you made me do to those poor hamburgers, she shouts while putting the tray on my nightstand. But you needed meat, and red, bloody one."

"How I like it, huh..."

"Yeah, you fucking cannibal. How you like it, just for you. I'm letting you wake up while Oli chooses the movie, but after that, you're eating, and you're not moving out of bed for the day even if I have to climb you."

I smile again.

"This is the second weirdly erotic threat I've gotten today. You know you can tell me if you guys have an orgy planned later, I won't mind..."

"Oh, shut up, you bonehead, don't you dare joke in that state. Do you know how much I was worried about you ?"

Oh. She looks genuinely upset. Did I say something bad ? Did I do something bad, maybe ? I don't know. I just feel bad, all of a sudden.

".... Sorry."

"You better be. Hiding how little you sleep, how much coffee you drink, and when I go in your room I find a whole stash of beers clearly not here for partying ? What the fuck are you doing to yourself, Tyr ?!"

She's teary-eyed now. Oh. Did my current physical state affected them that much ?

"Sorry, really. I didn't want to worry you."

"Then start by not doing worrying things ! I thought I had to call Kaizarz to bring you to the hospital, AGAIN !"

Well. I guess that's why she's upset. Last time they had to do that, last time Kaizarz had to bring me to the hospital, it was the time of the accident. I still remember his eyes full of tears when i woke up from coma, his attempt to make me promise I won't ever put myself in danger like that, ever again.

I guess some things never change.

I lift my hand. Pinches her cheek. Shit, she's crying now. What did I do ? Why can't I do things rights ?

"I'm fine, Domhildr. Just lacking sleep. I promise."

"None of us believe you, Tyr, and that's coming from me."

That was Oli. They finally entered the room, with a movie case in hand, while Meili turns on the television on the wall. She doesn't look as angry as Domhildr does, or as judgemental as Meili's, but her eyes are full of worry, and unexplainable sadness.

Weirdly, those are the ones that hurt me the most.

".... I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. Please. Just recover."

He sighs. Sits down next to me, gives the case to Meili.

"A Ghibli, is that okay with you ? We settled on Spirited Away."

"Fine by me. Sorry for making you worry."

They take my face between their hands, look at me long and hard.

"Tyr. We are your friends. Of course we will worry."

"Now just eat, and don't mind if I eat burgers in your bed, says Domhildr while climbing next to me. I really don't wanna make you move or be away from you for the next ten hours. And I don't have a shift today so I'm ready to be there a long time."

Oli takes my other side, and Meili brings closer my desk chair to sit next to us. All of us now have plates on their lap, and the heat of their bodies is relaxing my muscles.

I didn't want to worry them. They shouldn't have to worry about me.

But I can still enjoy this, right ?

[astridthevalkyrie]

to anyone following me who's waiting for the superior update: i am so sorry it's taking so long. it's not just hard to hyperfixate on levi, it's hard to hyperfixate on anything. even though i have ten million hawks wips i started and a couple l&ds ones too, not even mentioning all the old levi ones, i can't actually think about them enough to write. i have the docs open on my laptop and i just kinda stare at them. if i really force myself to write, it's not going to be good. my best writing always just comes out of me naturally.

superior's at 8k words right now and hasn't been updated in more than a year, and that kills me. it's not abandoned. that story is my baby. law school has honestly been a shitshow for me. my grades are fine, but my depression and anxiety have reached the lowest lows they've ever been even though things in my life have actually improved! i've set boundaries with my parents and my grades are good and i do have friends. but even though i'm trying, i'm in constant burnout. i can never tell whether it's my physical or mental health that's the problem. between the depression anxiety adhd and now autism (i still need further testing but i have passed the initial one so congratulations to me hoorah) i'm literally almost always in a bad mood and exhausted. and then i'm dehydrated, severely anemic, and my upper back has been in constant pain since i was 17. my wrists have hurt on and off since i was 16, which obviously makes typing all the more hard.

and if this sounds like i'm whining...it's because i am. i don't wanna be stuck in this state, depressive or autistic burnout or executive dysfunction or whatever it is. i have a vision of where i could be, what i could do if i could just do it and it just depresses me more. i'm in therapy, i'm trying to be nice to myself, but it's so hard. i hate everything and everyone but i am trying so hard to be kind and understanding and not to upset anyone.

i want to hyperfixate. i want to think about a character 24/7. sure it affects my productivity when it happens, but my productivity is already in the ground. at least that way i would be making myself happy. i can barely maladaptive daydream lately. i used to think of scenarios and stories 24/7 even if i didn't write them. and now it's like. i hate the music i listen to. i hate my room. i have no energy to like characters. i barely have energy to wake up. and the more i dwell on these thoughts, the worse it gets.

but still. i am not abandoning this story. i want to finish it so badly. i've just realized that the problem isn't necessarily "oh there isn't any new aot media." it's just. i'm not doing well. yesterday was a better day and i wrote 2k words of analysis. i still can do it. but it feels like the only way i could really heal is if everyone in my life left me alone for at least a week, maybe a month. and that's obviously not happening. so i'm trying to find tips for people with audhd and seeing what i can do to cope but they're all things that i just don't feel are achievable. and because my self worth is so closely tied to what i can do, the more nothing happens, the more depressed i become.

all this to say superior is not abandoned. i'm trying to get to a better place, and i really hope i can have time for my favorite characters and my little stories. i hope you guys can see it soon.

[never-wednesday]

Hey its a Lil late in the month but this disability pride month I wanna talk about long covid. I also have chronic pain and all sorts of worms in my brain but I've been dealing with that forever. So we're talking about the new stuff. Putting a readmore because I'm talking about what my experience being sick with covid was like and it's probably unpleasant to read.

It's December of 2022 and I work retail while I'm home from school for winter break. I mask up every time I leave the house, including for work. My parents don't. My father talks about covid not being a big deal. He caught it last year and it was a mild cold for him. He says "i ate lunch with someone who had covid last week and im fine!" My mother catches covid a week after that conversation. I test and am seemingly fine despite symptoms of a cold, and then three days later (one of those days was a full 8hr shift at work where I was worn ragged because it's almost christmas. I also got heat exhaustion because the AC was busted and I live in TX.) I feel the worst I have felt in ages. My mom insists that my dad takes me to get tested for the flu, and I schedule a covid test while I'm at it. My covid test comes back positive.

For the next week I am bedbound, only able to sit up enough to try to eat something and only able to stand up long enough to get myself to and from the bathroom. I sleep through the days when I can get the dayquil down, and cough through the nights when I can't get the nyquil down. I hallucinate when im tired. One of those nights I swear I talk to god. My brain is fogged and it hurts to breathe. I am worried I will need to be hospitalized because I can't seem to keep any water in my system. It's a miracle that I can write instructions for my father to cook ramen for me. I can only drink the broth. One morning I try to take dayquil to soothe my throat and I vomit. My stomach is empty and I stand over the sink wretching.

It feels like a miracle when I recover. Christmas day my symptoms mostly clear up and I'm able to sit up long enough to use my computer, something I was unable to do for the past week. I test negative, my second best Christmas present that year. The first is the Elden Ring soundtrack on vinyl. I am elated that I made it put the other end.

A week later my friend comes from a few cities away to visit for a few days. We go shopping one afternoon, spend a few hours standing around at the local game store looking at dice and miniature plastic dragons. We get home at 6pm. I collapse into bed and wake up 3 hours later. I talk to my doctor about it in January, she says it should go away over time. Six months maximum.

I spend my spring semester exhausted. I start using a cane to make sure I can walk across campus. I'm thankful that many of my friends are also disabled because they understand when I need to ask people to slow down, or bail because of my fatigue. Many of the abled people in my life do not understand. One day I go out to a museum, a thing I am excited to do. When I get home at 4pm I make myself popcorn, then collapse into bed. I can't walk to the sink without my cane, I can barely get out of bed. This is what I have to adjust to.

Six months pass. The fatigue is not gone. I am home for summer break, and I try talking to my parents about my fatigue. They don't understand. I talk to my doctor. She is convinced it's depression symptoms. My mental health is largely the best it's been in years- I've been in treatment for months now and it is helping.

It's been about seven months now. I am not receiving treatment, nor will my doctor acknowledge that I have long covid. She has relented into testing for physical things. I got a CT scan, and have a sleep study scheduled for when I get back from visiting family in August. Depending on what these turn up and how my doctor reacts I am preparing to find a new doctor. I am not excited about this, because I like my doctor. But if she refuses to acknowledge that what has happened to me is likely covid and therefore will not treat me I will find someone else.

I don't really have a moral here beyond please mask up, get vaccinated, etc. Even if covid doesn't fuck you up it might fuck up someone you pass it to. Or even worse, it can kill the immunocompromised people around you. Please have compassion for the people around you. My father, who is a loving and caring man, brought this illness home to me. It wasn't out of malice, but it still has affected my life for probably the rest of my life.