#and i'm starting to feel physically ill from stress

[cashmire-writes]

I haven't replied to comments in months (I am so sorry) and now I have over 600 "unread" messages in my inbox that I have 100% read but have not marked as read.

So I'm going to reply to comments now in order to try and escape The Thoughts

[watery-melon-baller]

its so fun :)) and awesome :)) that i cannot fucking make my brain focus on my homework :))) holy shit im gonna kill someone :)) why can't my brain just work for five fucking minutes :)) this is easy homework too I just can't concentrate on it at all :)) and it's due tomorrow morning :)))

[honeyednights]

.

[sillyuin]

I'm all yours

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Mingyu x gn!reader.

Warnings: Reader is ill, barely proofread, Mingyu husband material.

- Yuin's note: I forgot I'm self-aware and wrote the most delulu and self-indulgent thing I'd ever write. An ode to my fellow carats who are also getting through sickness.

You didn’t hear the door open, the cheerful voice of Mingyu was the only thing perceptible beyond the pain you were feeling, and even thought it supposed to make you happy, it was difficult to smile. It was much easier to rest your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around his waist with the little strength you could have, and brush your lips against his neck with a gentle kiss.

“I'm here,” Mingyu responded by hugging you gently, your body trembled slightly and felt cold to the touch. “How was your day?”

“Bad…” you whispered, your voice breaking. “It’s been… the worst…”

The words got stuck in your throat and your mind went blank; the physical pain was so strong it prevented you from speaking. You felt helpless—why was it so hard to just say that your ear hurt? Or was that really all that was bothering you?

Your trembling hands clung to Mingyu's sweater in a hug so tight it almost hurt, while you hid your face in his chest to keep him from seeing your eyes fill with tears. But what started as a weak sob soon turned into an intense wail, impossible to ignore.

“Hey, y/n,” Mingyu patted your back to try to get your attention, but the more he tried to soothe you, the more futile it became.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered between sobs. “… I’ve felt so … alone.”

Mingyu patiently led you to the sofa, where you both sat down. Seeing you cry so inconsolably broke his heart; hearing your trembling, fragile voice expressing all sorts of sad things… It seemed so unfair that only you were going through it.

However, watching you catch your breath little by little was quite comforting.

You told him how your day had gone while he held one of your hands and gently stroked your cheek with the other. Physically, you felt terrible, but the contact of his skin against yours made everything a little more bearable, as if the pain were not that important…

“My neck hurts all over,” you indicated where it hurt with your finger, and he frowned, as if he somehow understood what you were describing. “I don’t think the medicine is helping…”

“This is the second time this year…” Mingyu sighed, frustrated. “Maybe you should change your treatment.”

“Again?” you complained. More than stressed, you were starting to feel depressed. “I’ve lost count of how many pills I’ve taken…”

The truth was he didn’t quite know what to say; he was worried, his mind a jumble of questions. All he could do was hugging you and that was all you needed in that moment.

You had spent the day alone while he was out at work, feeling upset and very sad, but it was better to take the moment to forget a little about all the negative thoughts attacking your mind.

Mingyu seemed to be the only remedy at that moment, and you clung tenaciously to that.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk to the doctor,” Mingyu pulled away a little and patted your hair. “For now, I'm all yours. Tell me what you want and I'll do it.”

You lowered your gaze shyly, wondering whether to say what was on your mind, but you felt encouraged by hearing Mingyu’s laughter. He knew you so well; there was nothing you could hide from him.

“What do you want for dinner?” His face was only a few centimeters from yours, and you started to feel a bit shyer.

“Pizza…?” you lifted your face slightly, giving him puppy eyes.

“Weren’t you on a diet?” Mingyu raised an eyebrow, but your pouty face was more convincing than him. “Alright, but only this time.”

About twenty minutes later the doorbell rang, announcing the delivery. You both sat down at the dining table and ate together while he told you about his day at work, chatting and laughing as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages.

Having Mingyu by your side was one of the best things that had ever happened to you because no matter how terrible the day had been or how sad it was to be ill; you could always have his company and comfort at the end of the day, and that made even the bad things worth it.

After dinner, you both sat on the living room couch to watch a movie, a warm blanket covering you as you searched for something to watch. Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing to focus all his attention on you.

“y/n, how do you feel now?” he tilted his head slightly while smiling.

“Better,” you replied, a little livelier.

“If you’re okay, I’m okay,” he turned his gaze back to the TV screen, holding the remote as he started scrolling through the channels. “Let me know if there’s anything you want to watch.”

“Actually…” You took the remote and turned off the TV. A surprised Mingyu was ready to object and defend himself, but he froze when he felt your head resting in the nook of his neck, one of your legs wrapped around his. “… I just want to hear you.”

“Shall I tell you about when I almost set the kitchen on fire because I was drunk?” Mingyu said casually, his hand resting on your waist.

“I was there, remember?” It sounded more like a tragicomedy than anything else. “The worst ramen you ever made.”

You both laughed softly; you were exhausted, and the night grew heavier while the dim light from a nearby lamp made everything feel more intimate, cozier.

“I love your voice,” you said lazily, your body nearly collapsing on top of him. “Sing for me, Gyu.”

In the silence of the living room, under the warm blanket, you finally managed to rest peacefully without thinking about the pain that tormented you. In the distance, you could hear his voice, tired yet charming at the same time, as you closed your eyes, feeling the warm beats of his heart against yours.

[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 30: forever?

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

TW: Mentions of schizophrenia. This would also qualify as hurt/comfort or flangst, but I wanted to write it anyway.

Spencer stared at the ceiling of his room in silence, lost in thoughts that seemed to tangle without remedy. He had been feeling this pressure in his chest for weeks, a fear he couldn't shake off, as if a shadow was relentlessly pursuing him. He knew it wasn't just stress, although that would have been the simplest explanation. This was something much deeper, darker.

His mind, always his greatest strength, now seemed like a source of fear, an invisible enemy haunting him with doubts and insecurities. The possibility of beginning to show signs of schizophrenia, like his mother, terrified him.

He picked up his phone, hesitating over whether he should call someone; whether he should call you. Your number had been there, patient, waiting for him to reach out, to ask for medical advice, a consultation… maybe even just to hear your voice.

He was so scared that he felt his hand trembling as he pressed the call button.

“Spencer?” you asked as soon as you answered. The warmth of your voice on the other end calmed him a bit.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Good, darling. A bit busy because I'm covering a shift in the ER and… ugh, everything is hectic.”

“Oh, then I'll let you go. I can call you later.”

“NO! It’s fine, it’s fine. My relief will be here in ten minutes; I can afford a moment of peace before that,” you murmured, sounding a bit tired. You fell silent for a moment. He said nothing. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed hard, noticing how the tension in his throat made it difficult to speak.

“I know you’re busy and I…” his breathing started to become erratic, despite his wishes. “I’m so sorry, but could you come? I just… I could really use someone to talk to.”

Hearing the tone of his voice, you agreed without hesitation, and an hour later, you were sitting on his couch, surrounded by the silence of his apartment. When you arrived, he didn’t say anything; just seeing his face and how he rubbed his eyes made you realize he was distressed.

Spencer didn’t even know how to begin. How could he explain the terror the idea of losing his mind caused him, of slowly crumbling without being able to do anything?

You didn’t pressure him. You just waited, giving him the time he needed, despite how exhausted you were from being awake for 20 hours. Finally, he took a deep breath and started to speak quietly:

“I’ve been… feeling strange. I’ve had horrible migraines and I thought that was nothing to worry about, but… lately I’ve been hearing things. Voices, whispers. And I see shadows where there shouldn’t be anything.”

His confession filled the room, dense as fog, and for a moment, he feared that you might feel uncomfortable, scared, as if sharing his fear made it more real. You had patients all the time, perhaps in worse conditions than he was, but all those ailments were physical; blood, fluids, skin… you didn’t deal with mental illnesses. Would you be afraid of him?

However, when he looked up, he noticed that you were simply looking at him with concern and tenderness. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, you regarded him with such kindness that he felt unworthy of it.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” you asked softly.

“For a few days… maybe a week,” Spencer sighed, feeling more vulnerable than ever. “My mother… you know what she…” he paused, unable to continue. He didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to invoke the fear that gnawed at him inside. The possibility of also losing himself, like her, was an idea that paralyzed him.

You didn’t respond right away. Instead, you reached out and intertwined your fingers with his. The warmth of your skin anchored him, a reminder that he wasn’t alone, that there was still something real and solid in his life. He remembered the last time he had felt that certainty, many years ago, when they were just kids.

The memory took him back to that day in the park. You were just two children sitting on a bench, the sky clear and the sun shining down on you. Spencer had been strangely quiet, lost in thoughts that seemed too big for his age. His mother had just gone through a very strong episode, and although he didn’t fully understand what it meant, he could feel the fear in his chest, a fear that seemed to settle in his bones. You had noticed his worry, and he, not knowing how to express it, ended up confessing his fears and doubts to you.

“What if something bad happens to my mom?” he had said softly, his gaze fixed on the ground. You had looked at him with that seriousness that only children can have, and without saying anything, you extended your pinky toward him.

“I’ll always take care of you, Spencer,” you told him as if making a sacred promise. He had entwined his pinky with yours, seeking that security that only you could give him.

“Forever?” he asked, unsure if you could keep such a big promise.

You nodded without hesitation.

“Forever.”

Returning to that memory brought him a little peace, a reminder that someone was willing to hold him, to be his refuge. Now, years later, you were by his side once more, fulfilling that promise you seemed to have made a lifetime ago.

Suddenly, he found himself in the present, gently squeezing your hand. The tears had already begun to slide down his cheeks, and he felt so lost… so vulnerable.

Of course, you weren’t going to demand medical details from him at that moment; you were exhausted from attending to patients and knew that what he needed now wasn’t an evaluation, but simply the company of a friend.

“I don’t want to end up like her,” he whispered, not looking at you, his voice broken.

“Spencer,” you replied firmly, taking his chin between your fingers and looking him directly in the eyes, “You don’t have to face this alone. I’ll help you with whatever you need.”

The certainty in your voice was so solid that he felt a part of his anxiety begin to dissolve. But still, the insecurity persisted, a shadow he couldn’t ignore.

He hesitated for a moment before whispering, barely audible:

“Forever?”

You didn’t remember that childhood promise made so many years ago, but at his question, you looked at him with a soft smile and squeezed his hand again.

“Forever,” you affirmed, without wavering.

Spencer felt his shoulders relax at hearing you. That simple word, laden with an unbreakable promise and loyalty, was all he needed at that moment. There were no medical exams, studies, or therapies that could compare to the peace he felt hearing you reaffirm that you would never leave him. Since childhood, he had treasured in his memory the recollection of your pinky intertwined with his when his whole world seemed about to fall apart; now he felt the same, and you were still there.

He allowed himself to release a trembling sigh, and without saying another word, you wrapped your arms around him, drawing him into a warm, firm embrace.

Spencer felt himself crumble at the contact, finally letting go of all those repressed emotions. He held onto you with a mix of desperation and relief, hiding his face in your neck, seeking in your closeness the comfort he had longed for in silence.

The tears flowed freely now, and he stopped fighting against them. It was strange; he used to be the most reserved person, the most contained, but with you, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, human. He knew you could bear his pain without judging him, without being scared. He entrusted you with his deepest fear, and you didn’t leave him alone in the middle of the storm.

You both stayed like that, embraced in silence for long minutes. He felt the weight of his anxiety and fear of illness beginning to give way little by little. The sensation of being held, of being accepted with all his flaws and fears, made him feel less fragmented, less scared.

Eventually, exhaustion began to take its toll on you. After so many hours of work and the emotional effort of comforting Spencer, your body gave in, and you let yourself fall gently against him. Unbeknownst to you, you started to drift off to sleep, and he noticed as your breathing slowed and your weight relaxed in his arms.

Realizing you had succumbed to fatigue, he smiled, touched and grateful to have you by his side. The anguish he had felt all night faded a bit more as he settled in, carefully holding you, protecting you just as you had done with him moments before.

And so, with you asleep in his arms, he felt the darkness that had been looming over him retreat a little; just a little. In that moment, everything seemed more hopeful, less fearsome. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in weeks, felt that maybe he could face his fears. Because, after all, he had someone who would fulfill that promise of being with him forever.

[evie-sturns]

ᴇxᴀᴍ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: you're mind is clouded with stress due to the fact your final highschool exams are next week. matt comes over to help you with studying, and also to take your mind off everything.

contains: smut, fluff, small age gap?, swearing, crying.

—--------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------——

matt and i have known each other since he was 13 and i was 11, our families have been super close for around 7 years. a year ago Matt confessed to me, I felt the exact same.

"oh my fucking god." i groan, throwing my head into my hands as i feel a burning sensation at the back of my throat.

its my final exam week starting tomorrow, and i'm attempting to catch up on last minute homework beforehand. matt graduated 2 years ago, he was top of his class, i pick up my phone and dial his number.

i need desperate help.

"hey!" matt says into the phone, a smile clear by his voice.

i sniffle quickly before starting "please come over nothing is making sense." my voice wobbles as i clutch the phone in my hand.

"oh fuck-.. no yeah ill be round in 5 minutes okay?" he says gently into the phone.

i nod like he can see me, then hang up.

-

i hear my bedroom door opening, my head snaps up to look at him from my bed. hes got worry painted across his face as i see his eyes dart over my matress, which has several books on it. "you okay?" he asks, walking over to my bed and sitting down on it opposite me.

i shake my head "i can't do this shit" i groan, matt nods understandably before grabbing my hands and pulling them away from my face.

"look at me" he says in a serious tone, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "i'm gonna help you okay?"

"thank you," i say as my voice breaks.

he sits up and walks over by my side before plopping down on the bed next to me, he grabs the textbook which has around 15 questions left on it. "not even ai understands it, i tried." i sigh earning a laugh from matt, i lean my head on his shoulder.

"basic algebra, you know this, i know you do sweetheart."

i shake my head "my brains so fucking foggy i bet you i couldnt do a 6th grade multiplication table right now."

"foggy like how" he questions, tilting his head.

"just everything i have so much on my mind." i reply lifting my head off his shoulder and staring at the questions.

"you're okay, look- 'factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors, which are simpler algebraic expressions, this is done..." the rest of what matt says doesnt get through to me, i cant physically wrap my mind around it right now.

i feel my eyes start to water before several tears start to flow down my cheeks, "got it?" matt asks, keeping his eyes fixated on the page resting on the sheets. i stay silent "hello?" he says again, this time looking over at me.

"oh god- no no don't cry" matt panics, grabbing my cheeks and giving me a gentle kiss.

"i can't think." i squeeze out, matt wraps around me. "this might not sound like good timing but, i can.. help you?" he says nervously, grimacing slightly.

i hand him the pencil, his words not passing through. "no no, like i can take your mind off of the work for a little bit" he repeats.

realisation hits me and my eyebrows raise, my head snapping round to look at matt who has an innocent expression plastered on his face. i nod, and without another word my shirt is halfway across the room.

he laughs quietly, his shirt meeting mine in the corner of the room. his chain lays loose on his bare chest. he stands up off the bed, i lie back. "i want you to just be a... - like a uh" my eyebrows scrunch "a what?"

"i hate the word but its the best way i can describe it." matt chuckles, "say it!" i smile

"pillow princess..?" he says quietly, icking himself out.

"okay" i shake my head with a wide grin before.

matts long cold fingers reach out to grab the waistband of my sweatpants, sending goosebumps down my body. he tugs at it gently, letting it slide down my legs.

"you okay?" he asks while unclasping his belt "i think?" i reply stupidly.

he nods, his tongue sticking out to wet his now dry lips. his baggy jeans pool at his ankles, leaving him in his boxers.

"ready?"

i nod, "yep-..yeah"

he stands between my legs before hovering over me, colliding our lips together aggressively.

it never fails to shock me how he can switch from so innocent to so.. different.

i moan lightly into the kiss as i feel his clothed bulge against my inner thigh. he abrubtly pulls away from the kiss pecking kisses down my neck, to my chest, to my stomach.

i squirm desperately on the bed as he pauses just above my clit.

"more." i whine, matt shakes his head, lifting his head up and grabbing my thighs he spreads them further apart.

i throw my head back "fuck." i breathe, before i can breath again matts tip presses against my clit. i instantly look up, questioning how hes just undressed the rest of the way in under a second.

he runs his soft tip through my folds, he presses only an inch or 2 inside of me before he pulls out, continuing to tease me.

"matt i need you." i groan, my back arching off the bed.

"can you get on fours for me sweetheart?" he asks softly, i nod, instantly flipping over and arching my back.

"good girl." he coos, lining himself up with me. "gonna keep being whiny?" he asks, i shake my head no. "thats right." he says.

"this is whats gonna happen okay? you aren't gonna start asking me to slow down because i think we both know how needy you were just acting."

fuck.

i dont think a single sentence has ever turned me on more.

i nod frantically, matt presses down on my back, arching my back more.

i feel him slide halfway inside of me slowly before slamming the rest of his length into me, earning a squeal from me.

before i can even process my thoughts hes slamming full force into me, deeper and deeper each time. my moans cloud the room along with heavy breaths coming from matt.

his tip continues to bruise my cervix, i clench around him each time it does.

"fuck-.." i hear matt whimper lowly from behind me.

he reaches a hand round under me and presses on my lower stomach.

hes never done that before, but holy fuck am i glad he did.

i instantly release over matts cock, clenching harshly around him with a scream.

matt pulls out, releasing over my back.

"you-you okay?" he stammers breathlessly, flopping down beside me.

i nod, my mind fully blank.

i guess him 'helping clear my head' worked.

-

matt finishes redressing me before sitting back down next to me, the air around us is hot and thick, but matts still determened to get this homework done.

"okay- so as i was saying factorising an algebraic equation means writing the expression as product of factors...

-

matt and i have been working through the textbook for about 20 minutes, everything makes sense and now i can't understand what i wasnt understanding earlier.

"you try this one okay?" matt hands me the pencil and i start to scribble down the awnsers. "you got it!" he smiles proudly, kissing my cheek.

i yawn, tired out from.. everything.

"you tired?" he asks, wrapping him arms around me and flopping down on the mattress. "very." i reply, my voice croaky.

"you wanna sleep, we can finish this tomorrow morning okay? and ill just drop you off at school or whatever." he asks, without another word im fast asleep on his chest.

1:24am

i wake up to the sound of pencil scribbling on paper, confused i sit up. matts sitting criss cross on the bed, leaning down over my textbook and filling in all the awnsers.

"matt?" i groan, rubbing my eyes.

"go back to sleep gorgeous," he replys, looking back at me

"what are you doing.." i ask, my eyes adjusting to the light.

"im doing this for you, you already know how to do it, i saw you. you're gonna be too tired to do this in the morning." he says.

i crawl over to matt and smother him in kisses "maattt, thats adorable."

"shush, this is a one time thing." he replys, shaking his head with a smirk.

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

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

[sunkissedscribbles]

The Beach

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x poet!mentally ill!reader

genre: angst, a wee bit of fluff

tw: mental health issues, swearing

word count: 2008

summary: enzo comforts you when having a mentally rough period

a/n: my soul needed this one. i don't really want to label reader's mental state because in my mind bpd was the starting point but I think it would fit under the terms of depression as well, that's why I haven't specified it in the pairing (and because i'm not a specialist). also, it contains one of my poems I have not yet posted on my main.

playlist: The Beach - The Neighbourhood

masterlist

dividers by @chachachannah

It hasn’t even been a month since the new school year started, only two weeks. Two weeks got you utterly exhausted, and even that was an understatement. It felt like you had forgotten to talk, taking a little too long to answer, to process things – to think. Your head felt heavy with emptiness, your entire body ached as it didn’t seem to be able to release stress, holding onto it deep in your bones, low in your back.

It wasn’t just fatigue, it was emotional and mental exhaustion that made you want to lie in bed all day, yet your sensible side made you get up every day and go to your classes.

Those damn lessons.

You went to all of them, tried to siphon in as much of each subject as you could but your mind was elsewhere all the time.

At how sick you were.

At how tired you were.

And in the afternoons you did nothing other than lie in bed, trying to convince your mind that it was okay, there was nothing wrong with you, and that you needed to study.

Just five more minutes.

Oops, It’s been ten minutes ago.

Anyway.

You’re gonna start studying at next-hour-o’clock.

You didn’t.

At dinner you were only pushing your relatively small portion of food back and forth on your plate, your mind foggy with very negative thoughts as the chatter of your friends next to you blurred into an indistinctive mess of different voices over your head.

You were silent,

and lethargic,

all the time.

It was after dinners when you lay in bed, hoping this was a phase or something you’d eventually get over. But in the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t.

And you didn’t really want to, either – you felt so down, so numb that you felt like you couldn’t move in the direction of getting better.

Not properly.

Not permanently.

Lying there, alone, you couldn’t think of anything better than causing your own pain, physically – at least you’d feel something, wouldn’t you? Even if it’d hurt – maybe you’d deserve it. Maybe you’d deserve it because you had spent your entire summer not doing anything valuable, pushed down these feelings of despair, hurt, pain, depression. You didn’t study saying you couldn’t pay attention and you were tired – of course you were when you kept staying up endlessly, only getting mere hours of sleep and not eating enough.

Maybe you did deserve to feel this way.

You missed the affection, just a hug at least, from your friends. But you have been so withdrawn from them and they were all beating around the bush, not knowing how to corner the question of your visibly deteriorating mental health.

It was Enzo though, who paid the most attention to you; he knew you like the palm of his hand, even if you hadn’t realised it. He cared about you, probably more than he should’ve. He’d known all your mood swings, and even when you had better days, he knew you were going to be just as down, if not even worse in just a matter of days.

He couldn’t bear seeing you like this, he missed the carefree, loving Y/N you were. He missed his Y/N. Every word you spoke felt like a dagger to his heart as your tone only made it obvious just how tired and ill you were. Every time he saw you scribbling into your notebook he knew contained your poetry his heart ached, even when it was just two words.

He knew you were starting to give it all up.

Life.

You didn’t cry, and that was obvious – you’ve never been one to cry much or cry immediately when something relatively bad happened, or when it was something that you took too personally, nor when one of the bandages you thought were securely protecting your wounds were ripped off, not suddenly but slowly to hurt even more as it stuck to the surface of your heart. No, you took it, held yourself together, trying to maintain the facade you built so well and perfected over the years of suffering from whatever game your mind was playing with you.

Because the more people knowing you’re hurt the more able to hurt you.

Because the more pain you show the less people will think of you.

Because the more you trust the more leaving you and hurting you in the end, the more betraying you.

You were more on the bottling-up side, but the bottle always spilt in the end when it couldn’t hold more.

More suffering, more floating, more silence, more pain.

So, two weeks after your seventh and last year at Hogwarts had started, here you were, writing a new poem in the Astronomy Tower.

I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace, you wrote the last two lines, the cool autumn breeze in your hair.

“Y/N?” Enzo’s voice echoed through your ears, and closing your notebook, you looked up at him. This was the day the bottle broke – you’ve been crying before writing your poem.

Startled by your red eyes, he looked at you with concern. “Y/N, were you crying?” he immediately crouched down in front of you, and as he took your face in his palms gently, you could feel the dam break again. You didn’t like this. No, you couldn’t be crying in front of him.

“Just, uh, tired,” you answered in a low tone, trying to convince him – or yourself, rather.

He looks down at the notebook and shakes his head, “Liar. Let me see.”

You hesitated – how could you possibly show him what you were feeling? It took you weeks to be able to put it into words, and it’s not too happy. “Please,” he asked softly, one hand caressing your cheek, the other reaching down for the notebook in your lap. And you let him, knowing he’d get what he wanted anyway.

You saw his facial muscles twitch and tense up as he read its title, his hand falling off your face: ‘goodbye.’

His eyebrows knotted in a frown at first, glancing up at your once lively eyes, now missing the bright, pure shine they used to have.

You watched as his expression became sad and even more concerned as he breezed through your lines written.

these lines; I plan them to be the last ones I write and speak, so that I can be free in a world where pain doesn’t exist, where no clouds disfigure the sky. I go tonight; I don’t regret and don’t look back, I’m not afraid to leave anymore, I give up the fight, I end the war. i lie down tonight and drift to sleep, I unite with nature forever, and release the built-up hurt and pain. I find nirvana; I’ll exist in eternal peace.

“Y/N, you–” he shook his head as he lifted his head again, meeting your eyes. But you, you couldn’t look into his, you felt like you’d break immediately. You were afraid of what emotion would look back at you. Hurt? Sadness? Disappointment? Or would he look at you differently?

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, shaking your head, keeping it hanging low.

He cupped your face again to make you meet his gaze, gently yet forcefully tilting your head upwards. His eyes, as always had that caring look in them, mixing with concern, and a sense of fear that he’d lose you washed over him.

He’d lose you, before it was nature’s job to cross your path together, before he could even confess to you.

“...Why haven’t you told me?” he asked in a low, broken voice. Fuck, he couldn’t lose you.

You couldn’t answer him at first – how could you tell him that you’d been feeling like shit for weeks again? That the longer you’re alive the less you’re living? The more days you survive the more of your want to live, and the more of your shine you lose. you took a long breath and with a tremble tugging at your lips, you shook your head while a stray fat tear rolled down your cheek.

“Y/N, darling…” he pulled you in for a hug and as his arms enveloped you tightly, your salty tears started raining down your cheeks again, lading on the fabric of his hoodie.

“I’m sick…” you sob into his chest, not able to hold anything back anymore, not in front of him as your fists clutch the fabric on his back. “And I’m tired too.”

You weren’t fireproof, that was for a fact, and he knew it too, probably better than anyone. You didn’t want to burn in your own flames but you felt it, felt it burning you and spread over onto him, burning him too. You were holding on to him for dear life, hoping your own miserable state of mind wouldn’t murder you.

“...I hope I don’t burden you,” you trembled against his body and he held you tighter.

“You could never,” he assured you, shaking his head. “Never, honey. You’re not a burden.”

You didn’t need to say much, he’d known almost everything already. He just held you tight against him, as if you could just slip away and disappear if he wouldn’t – and the truth is, you could’ve, especially in this state. And you kept gripping his hoodie as you slowly calmed down in his arms, while his heartbeat gave yours a soothing rhythm to follow. 

You were slowly coming to your senses that felt numb all this time – his cologne was a nice mix of sandalwood and citrus which filled your nostrils and made you feel at home, even more at ease, his touch warm and soothing under your sweater, rubbing your skin through the thin layer of your shirt, his voice sending your mind into a state of contentment as he kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and yet again, you couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like. You’d been friends for a long time and you didn’t want to ruin the relationship you two have built up over the years.

Then the three little words left his lips involuntarily; “I love you.”

You felt him stiffen against you as the realisation that he indeed said that out loud hit him, and coming down from your surprise, and trying to control your rapid heartbeat, you lift your head from his chest and meet his eyes. How could he love an emotional wreck like you?

“Y-you what?” you asked as if you hadn’t heard it right.

He gulped, trying to swallow his fear of rejection before repeating his words, “I said I loved you,” he led his hands onto your waist under your sweater as you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, but kept drawing you in lightly.

Without any further hesitation, you crashed your lips against his, afraid this was only a dream, hence wanting to enjoy every second of it and take it to the fullest.

His lips were so soft and moved so in sync with yours, and you wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever, wrapped in his embrace, with your lips connected, your tongues dancing around, making your mouths a ballroom, available for only them.

You pulled back just to come up for air and to clarify one thing. “I love you too.”

Your words sent a jolt of electricity and happiness down his spine, and he leaned his forehead against yours before reassuringly whispering to you, “I’m not leaving. We’re in this together and you can count on me, anytime, anywhere. Just- don’t shut me out. Please… I need you here with me.”

You nodded against his skin and let out a heavy sigh. You knew it would be a long way, a really deep dive. But until it was him swimming with you it didn’t matter that you were out in the open. It wasn’t a sudden light, a newfound wave of relief taking you out to the shore, but the beach seemed closer than ever. 

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777 @myysunshine @yelanare

[bellarkeselection]

Oh my, you're so right. There are not enough Will Halstead fics in the one chicago fandom. I would have an idea for this fine man. Maybe you like it.

It's the best fiends to lovers trope... I'm obsessed with this kind of stuff. They're both idiots in love but are too afraid to destroy their friendship when they would tell the other how they feel. Will is super protective of reader. Reader has a chronic illness (cause I NEED to see him in worried protective doctor mode) like a heart desase or asthma or epilepsy. So he always watches out for her helping her when she feels sick... One day he gets hit on at Molly's and reader sees him flirting with a girl. He starts to date the girl. The girl is super bitchy and is jealous of reader cause she's Wills best friend. So the girl tries to drive a wedge between reader and Will, maybe weave some lies, hurts reader mentally etc so that reader distance herself from Will cause she's hurt of what his girlfriend said to her or how she treats reader. That lead to huge emotional stress which flares up her illness. Reader is feeling bad both emotionally and physically. And it gets dramatic in some kind of way. Maybe Jay or another character notices reader getting worse and tells Will. And first he doesn't belive it, cause his best friend would tell him of she's super sick, wouldn't she? Until reader is admitted to Med or is found unconscious in her apartment or something else.

Sorry for my long rambling. This is just an idea maybe you like some parts of it.

❤️Love

Idiot Friends in Love

Okay so this is one of the longest requests I have gotten for Will so far. I honestly enjoyed writing this so so much and I truly hope I did as much as you asked for 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗

@annieradcliff

When people talk about having a best friend you have to remember that no relationship is going to be the same as someone else’s. But when my friends think of a best friend duo they look at me and Will Halstead. We’ve been in the others life from the time we were five years old and haven’t left each other’s side since then.

He had went onto to become a doctor and I had persuade working in the same police department as his brother Jay had. Years ago when Will had a fight with his dad about wanting to go off to college I was there for the aftermath when Will stormed out. He told me the main reason he wanted to become a doctor was so that he could help people, especially people like me. I was born a few weeks earlier at the end of my mom’s pregnancy which gave me underdeveloped lungs and asthma.

Walking into Molly’s bar wearing some ripped blue jeans shorts and a white tank top I was looking for Will until I finally found him up at the bar. Striding over I was about to say something until I saw him with a blonde that I couldn’t really stand to be around. Her and I had gotten off to the wrong foot and she basically always made a point to lead my best friend away me. Heading to the bathroom I leaned my body into the wall just needing a minute to myself except to my surprise the very girl I didn’t want to see came up to me. “How long do you think he’s going to be there to babysit you hmm?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked her sensing some annoyance in her tone.

The blonde named Brooke snapped. “I mean he can’t babysit you and be your best friend forever. He is an ED doc and now spends most of his time with me.”

“Did he tell you this?” I questioned her knowing my friend was very busy as was I since I was doing everything I could to someday become a paramedic for Firehouse 51 with my friend Sylvie Brett who had recently joined the team.

Brooke rolled her eyes like I was an idiot or something. “He’s just spending time with you because he’s a doctor and feels it’s his sworn duty to protect you and make sure you’re well.”

“Will and I have been friends since we were five years old. So, I think you’ve got your thoughts mixed up.” Responding to the girl I had faith in my friend way before I would ever believe what this woman was saying.

She throws her hands away from her sides. “I’m just saying he clearly doesn’t have feelings for you like he does for me.”

“How would you know huh. Can you see what he is thinking inside his head cause I certainly can’t.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve seen your little asthma attacks the first time I met you at this bar. Do you seriously think that he’s gonna want to be with somebody with a disability.”

“I’m done talking to you.” I began walking away from her until she yanked me back by my forearm.

“Just face the facts and realize you’ll just be another patient to him and nothing else.”

Yanking my arm from her grasp I stomped away not bothering to talk to her or Will for the night. The next few weeks I had basically been avoiding Will’s phone calls or texts figuring that she was right that I would always be a patient in his eyes. I decided to take a walk and see Brett so headed to the firehouse seeing her stalking supplies inside the ambulance. “There’s my favorite paramedic.”

“Hey Y/n! I wasn’t thinking I would be seeing you today. How have you been?” She climbed down out of the ambulance coming over and embracing me in a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her hugging her back. “I’m good. How are you and Casey?”

“We’re doing good. I’ve been meaning to ask how are you and Dr. Halstead. I’ve been meaning to ask lately.”

I raised a brow at her question. “Me and Will. I – I don’t understand.”

“Oh please. There’s something clearly going on between you two.” Brett rolled her eyes like I just said something completely ridiculous.

I raised my hands waving them in front of my chest not believing that there was something going on between me and my friend. “I don’t think you understand the relationship that he and I exactly. We are just friends and nothing more. Besides I’m fairly certain he doesn’t think of me in that way.”

“Pfft I’m sorry but that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She made a noise snorting out a laugh. “Have you missed the signs where he sends you those lovey doe eyes, looking out for you, and I’ve never seen you hanging around anyone else but him since the day I met you two.”

“Look Brett, I appreciate you being hopeful. But there’s never going to be anything romantic going on with me and Will.” I felt my eyes beginning to water and I ran my fingers through my hair slowly feeling a tightening in my chest. I grabbed my chest gasping for air not expecting this to happen. “I mean why would he ever go for me. He has a girlfriend, regardless if she’s a bitch. But it’s fine – argh!”

Brett rushed forward catching my body before I could hit the concrete. “Y/n! Hey, hey, woah, woah. Kelly! Casey! I need some help out here.” She shouted before my eyes got heavy and I loosened my grip on her arms passing out on her.

I’m not sure how long I was out for by the time I slowly blinked my eyes opened and saw some bright lights that clearly looked like the hospital lights. I sucked in some breaths feeling a mask over my nose and mouth meaning asthma medicine was getting pushed into my body. The curtain drew open and I saw Rhodes enter the room carrying a chart underneath one arm. “Hey Y/n, you’re breathing seems to be doing better. I’ll just slowly take this off now.”

“Thanks Dr. Rhodes – uh where’s Brett – at?” I coughed after he pulled the mask down from my face and helping me sit upright more on the pillows.

He glanced towards the curtain answering my question. “She’s outside by the nurse desk. Will is actually with her too.”

“He is?” I asked leaning up feeling hopeful for a brief second.

He nodded walking out into the hallway waving them inside the room. Brett came in and smiled brightly hugging me and I hugged her back pulling away letting my best friend have my attention more than her. “I’ll let you two talk for a bit. Come talk with you afterwards.” She stepped outside the room back into the hallway leaving the two of us alone.

“I was so worried about you when I saw Brett bring you in like that. I mean I thought we had a better understanding going here. That – that we – “He stuttered out his words frantically running a hand through his auburn curls. “You’re my best friend so I thought you’d tell me if something bad was really going on with you.”

I did my best to lie, biting my lip unknowingly. “Will, I just had a small episode. You know flare ups can happen from almost anything.”

“I’m aware of that. But that’s not the point.”

I snapped. “The point doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does matter.”

Shaking my head I wished he wasn’t so argumentative like I was. “No it doesn’t. Look I’m fine now so we don’t have to have this conversation anymore.”

“Yes, enough of this. Okay I know you’re lying o me about something and I’m hurt that you didn’t feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it.” He raised his hands in the air.

I rolled my eyes wishing this wasn’t happening right now between us. “You don’t need to know all of my business, William!”

“We’ll excuse me. I thought us being childhood best friends meant we were much closer than you think we are!” He raised his voice at me in frustration.

Clutching my hands into fists punching the hospital bed sheets shouting up at my best friend with some tears falling down my face. “Gosh damn it Will just stop it. I don’t want to be your friend who is always a patient in your eyes. I know that’s all I’m ever going to be!”

“What. Who, who told you that?” Will made a confused face at me.

I scoffed. “That blonde girl named Brooke you’re dating. She told me facts that you clearly aren’t comfortable saying to my face.”

“Why would she say those things. We’re not together anymore.” He responded.

I parted my lips thinking he was joking. “You’re not. Why – why not?”

“She just liked the idea of dating an ED doc. I broke up with her last Friday. That’s what I was wanting to talk with you about in my multiple phone calls. But I guess I got my answer when you never answered.” His gaze lowered down to the floor and he went to leave.

I gently called his attention. “Will, wait a sec. What was the calls about?”

“They were about my feelings for you.”

Sucking in a shacky breath I wasn’t sure how to feel about what he was about to say. “Will, are you saying that you think of me more than a friend?”

Rather than giving me a verbal response he strides forward climbing up onto my bed with his legs on either side of mine. He gently grabs my face in his hands crashing his lips down onto mine not giving me a chance to say anything. It took me a minute before I ran my fingers up his arms wrapping my arms around his kissing him back.

Threading my fingers through his hair, tugging on it hearing him moan into the kiss. I thought this was a dream for a brief moment until he broke the kiss resting his forehead against mine. “You’ve always been more than a friend to me. I just - didn’t want to say anything and ruin what we have if you didn’t feel the same. And don’t ever think for a minute that you’re just a patient to me. You’re anything else but that Y/n.”

“It’s crazy that my reasoning for not telling you how I felt before now is the same reason as yours. It’s a relief we both come off as idiots in love.” I smiled chuckling resting my other hand on his cheek.

He sent me a cheecky grin. “Well can this idiot in love officially ask you out on a date tonight?”

“Yes, yes I’ll go on a date with you.” I leaned forward beginning the next kiss we shared. We were entirely too worried for nothing and it wasn’t too long after a few dates that Will was already working on having me become his Mrs. Halstead.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[jiraisupportgroup]

First of all - I'd like to note that this post is not intended to pressure anyone to change or to make people feel ashamed for the position they are in in life. I feel like a lot of people don't understand that being in this position is not often a choice. A majority of the time there are mental illnesses or chronic physical illnesses which lead someone to this point. It isn't like they're just hanging out at home all day having a blast - it is emotionally and physically taxing to be in this position, and it can be incredibly hard to break out. Not impossible!! Just very hard.

It is not as simple as "just go outside" "just get a job" etc; that kind of advice is not helpful. This post is mostly aimed at people who want to make some sort of change in their routine. Again, if you don't want to change or don't feel a need to - I'm not here to pressure you into changing your life or to tell you you are wrong for living this way - you're not, you're okay I promise. More so this is for people who are thinking about changing things up or adding a little more structure to their life.

Keep in mind - there is no shame in this. If you're looking at your daily log of activities and it isn't what you want it to be that is okay! Don't beat yourself up or be down on yourself for not being perfect or not being where you want to be. This is just so we can identify trends in our behaviours and more clearly see the things we want to cut back on or the things we want to add to our daily / weekly routines.

Try to keep this in a place where it is easy to keep track of. I typically recommend something digital like a notes app on the phone or a google document since you can access that from a computer or your phone - that way it's much easier to just pop in and write a simple note like "10am - had a bagel for breakfast", or a little pocket notebook that you can keep on your person. Make it as easy for yourself as possible.

It can also help to add little notes about how certain activities make you feel or your general mood throughout the day. This doesn't have to be extensive, but something like "Took a shower, feel refreshed but exhausted", or "2-4pm scrolling TikTok, I don't feel anything, I'm a little irritated". Keeping in mind how certain activities make you feel is a good step in identifying how different things affect your mental health and overall energy / stress levels. This can also help us start to see some of the underlying reasons for some of your behaviours. If you start to see why you do or don't like doing certain things, you can have a better understanding of yourself and how you can go about changing certain habits.

For example if you absolutely 100% detest doing the dishes, the feeling, the smell, how long it takes, etc, it isn't going to be very helpful to have a "just do it" approach to building the habit. It will become much easier if we also adopt other things into this such as having a dish-washing chair, a special soap, or gloves to make the process more bearable before throwing yourself head-first into it.

Some goals are easier to identify than others. For example "I want to brush my teeth every night" is a pretty identifiable goal and the steps you need to take to achieve that goal are pretty straightforward. Other goals like "I want to feel more productive" or "I want to have more energy" are vague and difficult to achieve in themsevles, so we need to break them down.

What does each goal mean to you? What does "being more productive" mean? Does it mean keeping your room clean? Creating a physical product or hobby? Achieving smaller goals throughout the day? Exercising more? Trading social media for something like a book? Learning something new? What smaller aspect of this larger idea stands out to you? Once it is broken into parts it's much easier to work on one aspect at a time instead of just trying to change everything overnight.

Other goals seem like too much, like "I want to be able to go to the grocery store by myself". That's an easily identifiable goal, but it's a BIG goal. There are likely steps you'll have to take to work up to this goal, and those steps are heavily tied to the reasons why you don't like going to the grocery store in the first place. If the crowds make you anxious - going out with friends or family to less crowded places, or going to the grocery store at less busy times of day could help. If the food items stress you out - going out to places like office supply stores that don't carry food items or going to the store without the intent of buying anything just to walk around and get used to it might be helpful. Some stores like Kroger, Ingles, or Target often have little coffee shops in them - maybe going to one of these with friends just to get a snack and hang out can help expose you to the idea of the store itself without the pressure of having to pick out what you're buying or the pressure of interacting with the cashier so you don't have to tackle it all at once. Or if you typically get groceries delivered to your house, maybe you could do a purchase online pick up in-store thing one day - you don't have to spend much time in the actual store, and you don't have to pick items out while you're there, but it'll get you to the actual store and then you can just go home right afterwards. Try to find ways to get slowly closer and closer to your final goal without throwing yourself headfirst into it. (One thing I will say specifically about going to the grocery store is try to avoid planning out exactly what you're going to purchase beforehand - I used to do this and I would end up crying in the middle of the store if they didn't have the exact bread they wanted, it backfired on me more than once T-T so do that at your own risk).

Write out as many or as few goals as you can think of. These are long-term goals, so if your list feels really long don't worry! You don't have to do all of this at once! In fact, I implore you not to try and do too many of these things at once! Try not to get overwhelmed if it feels like a lot - you've got time, this is not a once-and-done kind of thing, we're going to take it slow and try to be reasonable with ourselves and our expectations of ourselves.

But how do you pick a goal? There's a lot of ways you could do this. Some people like to try and go for the one that seems the hardest first - I've never really had luck with this I usually just give up when I feel like it's too hard. Some people try to pick the one that seems the easiest to ease themselves into it - this is always nice because it can help you feel like you're actually making progress and changing things. Some people pick ones that overlap. Like if you want to spend less time on social media and more time doing a hobby like knitting - you can combine those two goals into "trade social media time for knitting" to kind of tackle two things at once. Try not to combine too many things together - we do still want these goals to be small and separate from each other - but smaller ones like that it is okay to and makes sense to combine together.

So! You've picked a goal to work towards! Yay! How do we do that? It depends on the goal you've picked. If it's something physical like showering, brushing your teeth, vacuuming, doing the dishes, going for a walk, or cooking dinner, it's a little easier to track. Setting reminders or keeping a log of when you do these things can help, some people like having weekly or daily checklists to keep track of what has been done and when. Try to avoid putting too many things on the checklist - we don't want to overwhelm ourselves, remember we're just working on one thing right now.

For others, picking a certain day of the week or time of day to do these things can help as well. Having a set time or day for certain activities can help set the routine of doing them, and also makes it a little easier to keep track of when they are done. If you miss these days or times don't beat yourself up! Try to avoid the feeling of "oh well I was supposed to shower at 7pm and now it's 10pm so I missed my opportunity" you can deviate from the timeframes you set for yourself they're just a guide. But over time if you decide you're going to brush your teeth at 9pm every night, after a month or two you'll start being like "oh it's 9pm I'm going to go brush my teeth" it becomes a second-hand habit that you don't have to think about too hard after a few months.

If it is a more nebulous or vague goal, we might want to make a roadmap. Like if your end goal is "I want to be able to keep my room clean consistently" there's a lot that goes into that. Often that includes dishes, taking the trash out, doing laundry, folding the laundry, vacuuming, etc. Trying to take all of that on at once can be really overwhelming! Start small. Let's say, maybe every other night you want to take the dishes from your room to the kitchen. Just focus on that. Or maybe you want to make your bed every day. Or maybe you want to do your laundry once a week. Pick one aspect to focus on for a while, and slowly build on that. After about 2 weeks of taking your dishes to the kitchen every other night, maybe you can add washing them into that. Or after doing your laundry once a week for about a month, you can add folding it into that. If you ease yourself into it, it gets much easier to actually build these habits and not super overwhelm yourself right off the bat. And if you miss a day, that's okay! I'm not expecting you to set a goal and then immediately be able to do it all the time, and you shouldn't expect that of yourself either. Go easy on yourself. Slow progress is still progress. Maybe you're not making your bed every day, but making it once or twice a week is still progress! And over time that once or twice a week will evolve into three or four times a week. And it'll just keep going from there.

On the other hand, if you're trying to STOP doing something as much - the approach is often a little different. Some people like to use timers or notes to show when they last did something so they can see how long it's been or notice changes in whether they're doing it more or less frequently. If it's something like trying to cut back on social media you can set time limits on your phone for how long you're allowed to use each app. These are easy enough to bypass but often times having that reminder of "Hey it's been 15 minutes your time limit is up" can be a reminder to yourself that you want to be more mindful of how long you're spending on these apps, even if you just extend the time limit when it pops up.

Set up alternatives for yourself! It's really hard to say "oh I just won't do that anymore", give yourself something else to do instead. If you want to spend less time on social media, you might instead spend more time reading, drawing, or even playing video games. (Trading social media for video games is a healthy trade I will die on this hill - I don't care how many articles you've seen saying they're just as bad as each other I promise you Persona 5 is not as bad as Twitter for your mental health). If you want to stop smoking, instead have gums, lollipops or a drink you enjoy; or practice breathing techniques when you want to smoke; or if you vape try switching to a lower concentration juice (I'm also trying to stop smoking so I feel you on this it's a tough one). If you're trying to stop SH, have other things like ice cubes, rubber bands, pens, or something that will give you a physical sensation without causing harm (or as much harm). Work with yourself, identify what you're getting from each of these things, and try to make a trade for something that is a little better for you but still gives you some of that thing that you want. Don't beat yourself up if you do still engage in these habits, it is hard to stop. Instead of punishing yourself for still doing these things, praise yourself for doing them less often. (And if you're not doing them less often, praise yourself for being aware of your habits in the first place).

The hardest thing about this whole process is getting the motivation to start. Once you get started it's much easier to keep it going, but that first push to get the ball rolling is the hardest part. For a lot of things you can't wait until you feel like doing it - often that won't come. There are different ways people motivate themselves to do things they don't want to do. Ease yourself into it, don't do everything at once do the first step of the process and then take a little break. For example, if you're folding the laundry, separate it into categories then take a little break. When you come back fold one category, then take a break. Then do the next category. Over time the laundry will be all folded! Set a timer, think about how much time you could reasonably spend doing something. Let's say 10 minutes. Set a timer for 10 minutes, then start whatever task it is you want to do. If you want to clean your room maybe set a timer for 10 minutes and spend that time picking up trash. After those 10 minutes are up you're done. You can come back to more of it later. Often times you'll find that you're able to finish a lot of tasks faster than you thought you'd be able to, and if they're not finished oftentimes times you're more inclined to keep going once those 10 minutes are up since you've already started the ball rolling. Some people use a sort of "rip the bandaid off" technique where they set an alarm to go do something and as soon as that alarm goes off they just force themselves do it. This is hard at first but it does become easier. Think of it like you're jumping into a pool. 3...2...1... GO! Often that initial push to just start walking to go to the thing you want to do is the hardest, and once you're moving it becomes easier.

Tell a friend you're going to do it. Sometimes this helps you feel more motivated to do it since you're giving yourself a little bit of outside pressure to complete the task. On this note, weirdly enough, stretching can help you get motivated to do harder tasks. Like if you want to take the trash out but you're laying in bed, stretching in bed just to get your blood moving can sometimes help you get that initial push to get up and take the trash out.

Work with yourself. Try different approaches, and celebrate your successes no matter how small they may seem. Over time you will find things do get easier, and after tackling one small goal for a month or two, you can add another small goal into the mix.

Some popular app recommendations (I'm so sorry this list is so short - hoping to add to it in the future)

IAmSober - Andriod and IOS - allows you to set multiple goals of things you want to stop doing and shows you timers for how long it's been since you last engaged in that habit.

Flora - Google Play, IOS, and Chrome Extension - sets a timer for how long you don't want to use your phone or computer, once you finish this timer without using your device it grows a tree, and adds that tree to your garden. I used to use this for studying back in college and I quite enjoyed it.

HabitShare - Android, Google Play, and IOS - set habits and keep track of when you've completed them, you can also link with friends to see each other's habits too (although, this is optional you can also keep it private).

These are the best-rated free apps I could find for this kind of thing, if there are others that you use or have used in the past please feel free to comment or rb I would love to be able to add to this list.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this can be at least a little helpful and I hope it doesn't come off as a "just do it" kind of vibe. I know getting the motivation to start building new or breaking old habits is realllllly hard so hopefully, this is at least a bit helpful T-T

As always, I love you guys and I'm proud of you for being here and doing what you can ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ please feel free to comment or send in any questions, comments, concerns, additions, or anything of that sort ~ ♡

[mayasaurusss]

Blurb of adult lottie with a younger partner who's in college and is stressed with exams and lottie just wants to take care of her because she's not taking care of herself 😖😖

Are you stressing about exams anon? Because I get you, it's so hard! 😩 But we can do it!

This is more of a 'blurb' (I think?) than anything really. Is this a blurb? I'm not sure...

I'm not really happy with this to be honest but writing about anything related to studying makes me go physically ill so...

Camomile.

Contents: fluff.

You look over for the millionth time at your notes, the words mixing and mashing until your eyes can't comprehend what you are reading anymore. Right now, it's 1am and you are tired. So, so tired. You started reading your notes at nine am, and had paused just two times all throughout the day. Your eye bags felt heavy and your mind mushed.

Lottie looks -spies- on you from behind the study room's door with worry. She sees you bent over the desk, with your nose in your notes and a short temprered look in her face. Lottie steps away from the room and heads to the kitchen.

She knows that you're overwhelmed: she couldn't really experience pre-exam anxiety but she remebers how fucking scared she had been before any test in highschool.

The best thing to calm someone who is overwhelmed, she learned, is a nice cup of tea. Or well, it's one of the best things. Lottie leans over the countertop and reaches for the drawer where she had stored all of the different kinds of tea she had collected over the past years. She thinks for a moment before deciding to opt for a camomille. This is the best blend she could get her hands on: it came directly from Europe and it was pretty damn expensive. Lottie had decided to grown her own camomile from that day on.

In just some minutes, the water has become a deep yellow and has a lovley smell. She smiles contendly, you will love this.

Lottie hums a little tune as she rounds the corner and come to your room door, but all her eagerness dies when she sees a deep scowl on your face. You had gotten more nervous and angrier while she had made the cup. She clears her throath and smiles when she enters the room.

"I made you this" she is careful to approach you, as she might be when approaching a rabid animal, and sets the cup on your desk. Your eyes have lost all their light and your eyebags are almost grey with fatigue. "Thanks" you say to her, cold and stonefaced.

She knows that there is no benefit for both of you if she forces you out of your chair, so she hums and places a kiss to your temple. Afterall she's pretty tired too.

The bedroom is dark, the only source of light is the gleam of the moon. Lottie is not even aware that she had begun sleeping until she's woken up by a sound in the dead of night. She reaches to her phone to see that it's 3am. She wonders if you are still up and if that noise was something she had to be wary of. She's not even out of bed yet when you stuble into the room. Your hair is messy, your face's lines underlined by the tiredness. The bed dips under your weight and silence fills the room once more. You feel Lottie's hand on your back and her lips on the back of your head. "Sweetie... do you want me to hold you?" it's the best thing that could come from her mouth. You've always disliked how other people wanted to estort information from you when you were clearly not in the mood.

You fall in Lottie's hug, sighing deeply into her chest. "Whenever you need me, I am here" she whispers to you, and at that, you instantly break into tears. Not because you're sad, not because you're mad, but because you are tired. You are so, so tired. And you miss Lottie.

She takes your cheeks and dries the stream of tears with her thumbs; places a kiss on the corner of your lips lovingly.

Sleep finally overcomes you: a sleep without any nightmares, without waking up in the middle of the night. You are snuggled in Lottie's arms and tugged away under the soft sheets while she strokes your hair. You both fall in a soft, calming and loving sleep.

[thelonelyempath]

M!Crush x F!Reader: Stressed Out

THEME: Fluff, teensy bit of Angst

WARNING(s): Fainting, Medical Scare

"Hey, beautiful." your boyfriend greeted you as you walked into the bedroom. "Oh, baby, you don't look too good. You okay?"

He noted how little energy you had when you set your stuff down. Your hair was flat. Your eyes were sunken in. You'd been extremely stressed about a lot of things and the stress was making you physically ill.

"Yeah I'm fine."

"Babe," C/N walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. "don't lie to me. I'm not trying to sound like an asshole, but you're looking rough. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Yeah I'm just stressed." you said nonchalantly.

"Aw I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

You really didn't. You didn't have the energy to talk about anything right now. You simply shook your head before resting it on your boyfriend's chest.

"Alright..." he put a kiss on your forehead. "but remember I'll be here to listen when you're ready to talk about it."

"Mhm."

C/N holding you felt great, but you were starting to feel a little woozy. It felt like the room was spinning. Your feet were starting to feel like they couldn't support your legs. Then everything went black.

Crush's POV

"Shit!" I yelled as I felt her go limp in my arms. "Baby? Baby, can you hear me?"

She was unresponsive. In a panic I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom. I set her down on the bed. I put a pillow under her feet to keep them elevated.

"Come on, Y/N..." I softly pleaded, feeling a tear well up in my eye. "Wake up...please..."

I knew she had been stressed about work, but I didn't think she was stressed enough to pass out on me. I took her hand in mine and gently squeezed it. For good measure, I checked her wrist for a pulse. Luckily I was able to find it. A few minutes later, I saw her eyes flicker open. Thank god for that.

Your POV

You were confused. You didn't know what in the world just happened. C/N was holding your hand, a relieved smile plastered across his face.

"Hey, baby." he softly said. "You just fainted."

He handed you his water bottle, prompting you to drink from it. You did so, your mind slowly coming to with your body.

"You gave me quite the scare, my love." he gently caressed your cheek with his other hand. "When I felt you go limp, I honestly thought the worst. I thought you were gone. You have no idea how happy I am that you're okay."

He raised your hand up to his lips and sweetly kissed the back of it. He helped you to sit up. You felt kind of guilty about scaring him. The poor man thought he had lost you.

"I'm sorry." you weakly apologized. "I didn't mean-"

"No." he cut you off. "None of that. Don't you dare be sorry. Sweetheart, this is not your fault. Work clearly has you stressed out of your skull. Let's just relax tonight. We can watch a movie and cuddle on the couch. Maybe while we're cuddling you can tell me all about what's got you so stressed out. Does that sound good?"

You nodded. God, he was so sweet to you.

"Okay." he paused to kiss you. "Let me take care of you tonight. I love you."

"I love you too."

[carnis-insanis]

im sorry that i havent been posting about dst lately, im still very much into it and I think i'll forever love this game but with the fandom growing and me having bad interactions with so many of the community members as well as witnessing predators in the community has made me extremely paranoid to the point that interacting with it publically or just thinking about it makes me physically faint

last night i tried reading an innocent fanfic that I used to re-read almost weekly and i threw up because I became so terrified, even tho the contents i was interacting with didnt carry even a hint of angst or anything distressing

While I will probably still interact with the fanbase, the chances of me making fanart or sharing any of my fanmade content for it are very low, which you are free to unfollow me for, but I cannot keep making things for this game as doing so has been making me harm myself and it keeps escalating to increasingly threatening levels. I know its a little pathetic to hurt myself over drawing video game characters but its not something i can help much in any other way than distancing myself from DST, even if its my special interest

Im posting this mostly as an apology for people who had been following me for DST-content and are awaiting for more of it through me exploring a new and safer interest. No one has done as much as mention it to me but I feel increasingly scared of people getting upset at me and lashing out from me not giving what is demanded of my account and its terrifying me to the point of my PTSD being on high alert and it not starts to effect my health (such as me not being able to eat or get out of bed from the stress) but also my relationships with others due to me being on edge the entire time

This is probably unserious and annoying to read but I dont think i'd be able to sleep tonight if I didnt post this. I dont wanna make excuses and I'm trying to share as little as I feel forced to so. Yeah . I apologize

Please be kind, I hate being mentally ill as much as you hate dealing with me being so

[cozy-the-overlord]

Free Fall

Summary: Tony Stark arranges for an Avengers Teambuilding Day at a local amusement park. Loki had been hoping to avoid it -- he's had enough thrills to last a lifetime, he has no desire to seek out more -- but you and your endearing enthusiasm for roller coasters convince him to come along. However, the free fall drop tower you start out with turns out to be a bit more thrilling than he bargained for.

Word Count: 3,482

Pairing: Loki x Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: Drags self out of the grave and awkwardly waves

So it's been a minute since I posted lol. Those of you who follow may be aware that I recently graduated from college with the Final Semester From Hell that involved my computer hard drive dying on me in class and causing me to lose not only forty pages of my honors thesis two weeks before it was due, but also almost every WIP I had been working on in the past four years because I am an idiot who chronically forgets to back things up :D I did make it through college, but between stress, burnout, depression, and the death of any motivation to work on anything because of having to restart from the beginning for all of my projects, I went a while without writing anything. But I'm slowly getting back into it -- I have several projects in the works and I'm hoping to get back to posting more regularly. This fic was a short piece that I had started prior to the computer death that I had a lot of physical notes on so they weren't lost when my hard drive decided to yeet itself into the sun. I'm not entirely happy with it, but honestly it feels so good to finally finish something that I don't care.

Anyways, sorry for the obnoxious A/N. Thank you so much for reading!

Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, panic attack, a bit of motion sickness?

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname @electroma89 @lokislittlesigyn @moumouton4 @theredrenard @justdontmindmetm @lostgreekgod @naterson

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :) (I also realize that this taglist is Old so if I need to update it please let me know)

Read it on Ao3!

Standing in the shadow of the great tower, heart thudding in his throat, Loki is suddenly aware that he’s made an enormous mistake.

Next to him, Stark whistles. “This is what you usually start with?”

You grin up at the spire, a massive construction of electric green cutting through the cloudless sky. Two elevators, one on either side, are creeping slowly up the length of the tower. They linger at the top for just a moment before plunging back down to Earth, their occupants screaming. Loki feels ill just watching, but you’re practically vibrating in place. “It’s good to get the blood pumping.”

He can’t bring himself to look at you.

It’s your fault that he’s here. Loki hadn’t planned to come today at all. A day spent outside in the sweltering summer sun, following Stark’s gaggle of misfits onto various machines designed to fling mortals from side to side to simulate the feeling of a near death experience? Loki couldn’t imagine anything more torturous. Thor’s begging and cajoling received nothing in response. No, he hadn’t the slightest intention of coming today, not until last night, when he came across you restocking the main refrigerator.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” you had asked as you arranged rows of Red Bull on the top shelf. “I can’t wait to take you guys around Rapid Rails—I’ve been begging Mr. Stark to do a teambuilding day there ever since he hired me.”

Your eagerness caught him off guard— as Stark’s personal assistant, you had been present at all of his godforsaken teambuilding events, but Loki had never known you to be particularly excited about any of them. “I … I wasn’t aware you had such an attachment to it.”

“Oh yeah—I grew up just down the street from there!” You beamed at him, breaking down the cardboard box you had used to carry the cans. “We used to have season passes – they were way cheaper when I was a kid – and we’d just go there to hang out all the time. Gosh it was so fun. And now I get to go for work!” You let out a merry laugh. “I guess some things never change, right?”

Loki huffed a soft chuckle. He had never seen you like this before, practically bubbling over in excitement. It was … rather endearing. “I suppose not.”

“You are coming, right? Thor said you hadn’t made up your mind yet.”

Were the circumstances different, Loki might have scoffed. Hadn’t made up your mind yet—Norns, his brother lived in denial. Instead though, he hesitated. “I … I’m afraid I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Really?” The way your face fell actually hurt his chest. “Why not?”

“I—” He glanced away, pressing his lips together. “I’m not sure I’m one for your roller coasters,” he said, finally. “You’d likely have a better time without me there.” It was an attempt at lightheartedness, but you only seemed more disappointed.

“Oh, that’s not true at all! I was really looking forward to—” you stopped suddenly, and when Loki looked up again, you were biting your lip with a nervous laugh. “I mean, it would be really fun if you came with us. But it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I suppose I could come, if you so desire.” He hoped he sounded nonchalantly cool, and that you couldn’t see the way his heart fluttered at the idea that you might want him there. “I wouldn’t wish to let you down.”

“Oh, I mean—” You looked away, the light from the refrigerator silhouetting your frame. “I don’t want to force you, if you don’t want to. You shouldn’t do it just for me.”

“No, I …” He inhaled, then smiled. “I think I would like to join you.”

And so here he is, at the base of this great metal monstrosity, intently studying the sign outside of the line entrance to avoid Thor’s knowing smirk. His brother has never worn self-satisfaction well.

DEATH DROP: THE TALLEST AND FASTEST DROP TOWER ON THE EAST COAST

 The description is illustrated with a photograph of two people strapped to their seats, mouths wide in mid-scream as their hair flies every which way. Loki lets out a shaky exhale as he reads. The tower, it claims, is 400 feet tall. It reaches top speeds of 85 miles per hour. The ride itself lasts about 90 seconds in total. The measuring stand besides the entrance indicates that participants must be at least 48 inches tall.

400 feet. That doesn’t sound too terrible, he tells himself. The concept of a foot as a unit of measurement is still something he struggles to wrap his head around, but he knows that Stark Tower stands at over a thousand. So that’s not too bad. 400 feet would be a drop in the bucket, really, compared to …

No. He pushes the thought down, back into the dark recesses of his memory. None of that. Not today.

Stark smirks at him. “You’re looking green, Tommy Wiseau.”

Loki swallows, straining to maintain his stiff mask of composure. It’s bad enough to have Stark reveling in his discomfort, but now you’re looking over at him too, brow furrowed in concern, and he wishes he could melt away on the spot. “I’m quite fine.”

“Of course he is!” Thor booms, slapping his shoulder with a hearty thwack that does nothing for Loki’s stomach. “We’ve fallen from much higher heights, haven’t we, brother?”

Weightless. Breathless. Engulfed by inky nothingness, the air so thin he can’t even scream —

Loki’s smile hurts. “Yes, very true.”

“You don’t have to go, Loki,” you interject. “It’s totally okay— I have friends who love roller coasters and refuse to touch this ride. It’s a lot.”

He knows you mean it as reassurance, but he can’t stand the way you’re looking at him, as if he were a frightened child, too fragile to be brought along. Are you regretting having convinced him to change his mind? Do you feel that he’s only holding you back? Somehow, the idea that you no longer want him here is almost as sickening as the thought of the fall.

Loki huffs a breath. No. He will prove himself worthy of your coaster. “I assure you, I am fine.” His voice is more strained than he’d prefer it to be. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

…

The attendant seems rather starstruck as he ushers the group onto the ride—he stumbles and stammers through the explanation of the seating arrangements and the harness. Loki’s not really listening as he follows you to the left side of the cart, trying not to ignore the buzzing that seems to be settling behind his ears.

You smile up at him. “Would you rather sit on the side or in the middle?”

He frowns. “Does it make a difference?”

“Well, personally I don’t think so, but I know some people who get scared of heights think it’s easier to sit in the middle.”

“I’m not scared of heights.” The words come out far too quickly to sound believable, and he curses inwardly at himself. “I can sit on the side.”

“Are you sure?”  You eye him uncertainly. “It’s okay if you—"

“I’m quite capable of managing such a seat.” He sits before you have the chance to question him again.

The seat is rather tight—Loki wonders if that’s intentional, or if it’s simply built with a smaller frame in mind. In the cart off to the right, he can hear Thor fumbling about with the attendant, and he chuckles despite himself. If he’s finding it to be a bit of a squeeze, he can’t imagine the troubles his bulky brother must be having.

It’s a momentary reprieve from his darker thoughts, and Loki is actually smiling when you warn him to sit back against the seat.

“The harness is going to be coming down soon.”

“What?”

You motion to the contraption above the cart, two plastic green masses shaped like upside down u’s that hover above your heads like the top of a clam shell. “It sits over you and keeps you from flying out of the cart.” You let out a small laugh. “It’s like the harnesses on the Quinjets, but way less cool. They also have little handles that you can hold on to if you want.”

Loki is eyeing the harnesses uncertainly. “What do you mean they’ll be coming down soon?”

“You used to have to pull it down yourself, but they have it all programmed now.” A great mechanical creak cracks through the air, and you press yourself against the back of the seat. “Oh, here it comes now!”

He frowns, mimicking your movement to sit as far back as he can. The green restraint descends slowly over his head, with a metallic groan that does not give him much faith in the construction of this monstrosity. He expects it to stop once it was hovering over his torso, but it continues until it’s pressed snuggly against his chest, pinning him to the seat. The attendant is saying something over the intercom, but Loki barely registers it over the feeling of the restraint. It’s … it’s not a painful sensation, but the firmness with which it holds … he’s been restrained before. Little flames of memory spark in the corners of his mind, flames he can’t seem to douse no matter how hard he tries.

Get it off. Get it off. Get it off.

He gives an apprehensive tug on the metal handles that now rest on either shoulder, a tug which quickly turns into a hard yank. The harness does not move. His mouth has gone dry.

“Loki?” you’re frowning at him, your head only barely visible through your own harness. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You’re not bothered by the restraint. Of course you aren’t—how many times did you say you’ve ridden this ride? It’s fine. It’s fine. Goodness, what must you think of him, seeing him panic over the safety harness that you’ve worn hundreds of times before for fun? He nods his head, shaking away the feelings and memories and emotions and all the other thoughts that he wishes he could just wash down the drain …

“Are you sure—?”

“Perfectly,” he spits, but it comes out more snappishly than he intended, and you recoil with a look on your face that makes him despise himself.

I shouldn’t be allowed to speak.

“And enjoy your ride!” the attendant finishes with a flourish, and the thick metal cranking is all the warning you get before the cart begins to lift off from the ground. Loki’s heart jumps to his throat, pounding so fast he can’t make out the separate beats.

“This part is the scariest bit,” you yell at him over the grinding of machinery. “The anticipation kills me!”

Loki inhales. The elevator continues to rise, inching up slowly along the spire, the ground beneath their feet melting into miniature. This is alright, he tells himself. If this is the worst part of the experience, then he’ll be just fine. There’s nothing particularly frightening about it—he spoke the truth when he told you that he had never been bothered by heights. It’s all perfectly fine.

Perfectly. Fine.

Norns, they’re still going up. He risks a glance at the track above him—surely they must be close now? The movement makes him queasy, and he quickly turns back to face straight ahead. His knuckles are white from clutching the handles. The harness is digging into his chest and it takes all of his self-control not to rip it off. The elevator stutters—is this it? His breath catches, but no, they’re still going up. They seem to be slowing down though, don’t they? Or is that only his imagination?

I’m going to be ill.

They’ve stopped. That’s not in his head. Everything seems frozen in place. Why did he agree to do this? Loki presses his eyes closed. Any moment now. Any moment …

Still nothing.

His chest aches. He may have forgotten to breathe. Why have they stopped? Is something wrong? Loki turns to you—you look ecstatic, eyes crinkled with elation, mouth wide in an open grin.

“When is it going to—”

You drop.

The world goes silent. He feels it, that awful sensation in his stomach as the line goes slack and colors rush before his eyes in a blur until it all fades to darkness, airlessness, weightlessness, his lungs burning and drowning on the empty void of space—he’s falling, he’s falling again, he’s falling again oh please Norns not again—

There’s ground beneath his feet. He’s not sure where it came from. His knuckles ache. You’re talking – to him? He’s not sure, he only barely can make out your voice …

“Loki? The harness is coming up. Can you let go?”

He’s still clinging to the handles. Can he let go? He’s not sure. His body feels like lead. He pries his fingers from the metal tube and the pressure against his chest vanishes with a woosh over his head.

“There you go.” Your voice is soft, encouraging, closer than he remembered. He looks up to find you kneeling on the ground before him. You flash a nervous smile. “You alright?”

He’s not sure what to say. His instinct is to apologize, insist that yes, of course, he’s quite alright, he didn’t mean to give any impression to the contrary, everything is fine, but the words catch in his throat.

stars melting together smothering his last breath

Loki lets out a shuddering breath, settles for a nod.

“What’s the hold-up?” Stark calls out. “Barton and Romanov are waiting with the kids on the other side of the park.”

“We’re just taking a break for a minute!” Your reply is hurried. “You guys can go on, we’ll meet you there.”

“Is something wrong?” Thor sounds concerned, and—oh great—now both him and Stark are walking over to their cart. “Loki? What happened?”

“I—” But words, so often his steadfast ally, seem to be failing him right now. What happened? He has no answer; at least, none that his brother would accept. For nothing had happened, not really, and yet that was enough to send him spiraling through the fabric of reality.

He hates this. He hates feeling so weak.

Stark is chuckling. “If I knew that this was all it took to shut him up, I would have rented this place out sooner—”

Enough.

Loki forces himself to stand – far too quickly, his stomach churns at the movement, but he swallows the bile in his throat. He needs to get away. It doesn’t matter how, but he needs to not be with them. Besides him, you scramble to your feet too.

“I’m well.” His voice doesn’t sound right—it feels foreign, and thick like syrup, nothing like his own. “You may go on without me.”

“Are you certain?” Thor is frowning. “We can wait—”

Please don’t.

“I’m certain. I just need to sit for a moment.”

“There’s a bench nearby!” You’ve taken on the same cheery inflection typical of your working voice, and it adds a sense of normalcy to a distinctly abnormal situation. He’s grateful for it. “I can show you where!”

Both Stark and his brother seem reluctant to leave, but you insist that it’s fine. “I’ll call you if anything changes.”

He feels slightly steadier as he follows you to the bench—it’s just a wooden thing on the side of the concrete path, across from what appears to be a diner of some sort. You mumble something about going to get water. It’s a relief when you turn away, so you don’t see how he collapses against the seat.

There’s ground beneath his feet. Loki closes his eyes, focuses on that. There’s ground beneath my feet. The asphalt is firm, hot with the summer sun, anchoring him to reality. He lets out a breath. It feels safe.

Unless, of course, it crumbles beneath your step and flings you back into the abyss –

“Hey.” He jerks up at the sound of your voice, and the suddenness causes you to jump as well. You shift apologetically, standing in front of him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Loki swallows. How did he not hear you come up? “You didn’t.” Although it must be obvious that you did. At least you’re kind enough to allow him the lie.

You offer him a plastic cup. It’s a flimsy thing, but quite cold, relieving against his feverish skin. He takes it with a mumbled thanks, pretending he doesn’t notice how you’re studying him with a quiet sort of concern.

“Are you feeling better?” you ask after a moment.

Loki bites down on the inside of his cheek, relishing the way it stings. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just – I mean – ” you glance down, tugging at your shirt sleeve. “I get panic attacks too.”

“I don’t—” But he stops himself, stops the urge to argue. Gives a gentle nod instead. “I’m well, thank you. I just … I need a moment to catch my breath.”

“I’m sorry …” You look away guiltily. “Death Drop is kind of a lot – we shouldn’t have done that first.”

“It’s not that. I –” He wants to explain to you. He wants you to know that he’s not usually like this—he never used to be like this, he’s strong and steady and perfectly capable of anything you could ask of him, but his voice is failing once again. Loki huffs a sigh. “You ought to go on with the others. I don’t wish to ruin your day.”

“Oh, you haven’t ruined anything. I’ve been on every ride in this park about a million times. It’s fine!” Your voice is bubbly and light as you sit down next to him on the bench. There’s something oddly comforting about the sound. “Besides, it’s bad etiquette to leave a friend by themselves at an amusement park. Buddy system and all that.”

A friend. He can only stare at you.

You falter. “Unless … unless you’d rather I left?”

“No—” Loki surprises himself with how quickly he answers. “No, I’d rather you didn’t.”

Several minutes pass in silence, the frantic beating of his heart slowly tapering off into something softer as he drinks in your presence. He’s grateful for it, grateful for how you let him soak in the quiet. Thor would never have allowed him such a moment’s peace.

 He’s considering asking if you’re sure you don’t want to go on any other coasters (he feels guilty for keeping you here—perhaps he can accompany you through the queue and wait on the ground?) when you suddenly sit up stock-straight. “Oh!”

Loki frowns. “Is something wrong?”

You turn to him with a wide grin. “I just remembered they have Dole Whip here!”

“They—what kind of whip?” What sort of ride would a whip be, he wonders? A human sized slingshot, perhaps? His stomach lurches at the thought.

Luckily though, he’s proved wrong. “Dole Whip!” you giggle. “It’s like ice cream, but fruit flavored. Like there’s pineapple and strawberry and whatnot—it’s like soft serve.” You look at him with a kind of hopeful excitement. “Do you want to try some?”

Loki hums. He has yet to try soft serve ice cream, but he knows his brother practically swears by the stuff. “Is it good?”

“Supposedly. I’ve actually never tried it— we never wanted to spend money on park food when we would come as kids. It’s stupid expensive.” You smirk. “But today’s all on Mr. Stark’s dime, so…”

He chuckles. “And you would take advantage of your employer in such a fashion? I didn’t realize I had such a Machiavellian on my hands.”

“Hey, I’m just taking advantage of the opportunities presented to me!” You stand with a grin, holding your hands up in a mock surrender pose. “You can’t blame me for that, can you?”

“Oh, I’d never,” he teases as he stands, and he’s relieved to find that his legs have regained their steadiness. “I’d be honored to experience this Dole Whip with you on Stark’s expense.”

“Fantastic,” you beam. “It’s not too far from here. And it’s right next to a bunch of these little shops—they have this ridiculous giant sea monster toy that costs like $300, I can show you—”

You continue on as the both of you walk down the path, telling him all about the park’s various hidden gems and the inside jokes you and your friends have concocted around them, and Loki finds himself laughing more than not—he can’t help it, your giggles are just too infectious.

Huh. Perhaps joining you today wasn’t a mistake after all.

[puffskeeter]

THE ROWDYRUFF BOYS: REBORN -DRAFTED

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SCRAPPED Episode 1, Part 12-16

Perhaps you've noticed the large "scrapped" and "drafted" next to the title/episode number, or the fact that this friday i have 5 comic pages in one post. Slight update for RRBORN: I've done my rewriting of EP1 and theres news:

Because of the rewrite/redraft, im going to be redoing the 1st episode from the start. Unfortunately i havent felt well enough to actually get far on that plan. Chronic illness/pain sucks.

I def wont be able to keep up the Fridays thing for comic pages RN, so comics from me are going to be put on a hold until i feel physically and mentally well enough to work on RRBORN again. Hopefully that will be soon but i make no promises.

Might still post PPG/RRB art in the meanwhile, i think i have a couple of things i havent posted yet that are just sitting in my drafts. I also will be editing my pinned post (again) to remove the comic links.

However any non ppg/rrb art will be posted on my main acc @ruffskeeter. I'm hoping i wont have to go on a hiatus or anything, but i've been in a mental rutt lately so i'm not going to continue stressing myself out about this.

Thanks for reading & i hope u guys enjoyed the drafted version of the comic!!