#and the worst times are when I become self aware and that really breaks my focus but I know I’ve got to keep going

[flygonscales]

2 weeks at uni and I’ve already reached peak procrastination. I found masking tape and somehow decided that the best use of my time was to make a tiny Belphemon-sleep.

[flwrfields]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION — PARAMORE • Y.SE

summary: si-eun never really liked physical touch, not until you came. as your friendship grew, he found you becoming his only exception.

a/n: heh, i'm getting active!!! this idea popped up when i was trying to sleep and i immediately put it in my notes so i wouldn't forget it LMFAO!!! and notice how i put the images in the correct order of si-eun getting run over??? heh.. heh. also, this fic's idea is inspired by paramore's song name "the only exception", so i suggest if you listen to it while reading!!

warnings: clingy reader, softie si-eun, mutual feelings, si-eun is definitely whipped for you, absolute FLUFF, lowercase intended, set in class 2

w/c: 1092

yeon si-eun, this guy never liked it when people touched him or be overly touchy. that was before you appeared into his life. at first, he found you absolutely annoying. he always found himself in situations where you're clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he hated how much you linked arms with him, how much you rested your head on his shoulder like a pillow, how much you held his hand, how much you hugged him... there's a lot of things that irritated him.

one time, you ran towards him during lunch, all while yelling his name, "si-eun-ah!" the worst part is, all of his friends are sitting right next to him, probably laughing their asses off because he had to deal with your clinginess. they didn't laugh because they were mocking you, they would never! they laughed because they think it's funny how you're clinging onto si-eun, out of all people.

you sat next to him, noticing how everyone is laughing and giggling. you tilt your head, wondering why. "did i miss something?" you ask, curiosity filled your voice. you receive shakes of heads, still hearing laughter.

"no, no, we're laughing at si-eun!" baku says, pointing right at the guy, who seems miserable. but, you knew that miserable look of his would fade... you were sure of it.

and you were right.

as time went on, he warmed up to you. when you cling onto him, he can't bring himself to pull away. he stayed there. he let you be as close as you want. he's allowing you to invade his space, as if you successfully broke down the walls you've been trying to break through. and that's exactly what happened.

you made him go soft, and surprisingly, he doesn't mind it. in fact, he moves closer to you when you hold him. he does all of this without any hesitation, no reluctance. he doesn't do it because he's forcing himself to — he's doing it because he wants to. he's letting you into his space. his safe space. he's never let anyone in before, and it's clear. but, hey, at least you're welcomed in.

months go by, you're still your clingy self. si-eun is completely warmed up to your clinginess. though, there's something different. he's being cautious. you're aware that si-eun gives you short responses. but now, his responses feel like there's another hint of emotion that you can't figure out. you never comment on it.

to be completely honest, si-eun isn't sure when he exactly started feeling things for you. it was just a random friday — you, jun-tae, baku, gotak, and him. the five of you were out, standing on a basketball court. all you could hear is chattering, yelling, sneakers, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor... it was a chaotic mess.

you were playing basketball with the boys, protesting about how all of your height differences weren't making the game fair. all you got was teasing and laughing, making you roll your eyes without any actual annoyance. si-eun watched you from afar, feeling the corners of his lip twitch.

then, you groaned and exclaimed, "i'm taking a break! you guys continue." as you walk towards where si-eun was sitting. you sit down, letting out a breath. "you sure you don't wanna join them?" you ask, your gaze focused on the three playing. si-eun hums in response, shaking his head. "no." you nod, not wanting to force him.

suddenly, you lean your head on his shoulder. it's a normal thing for you to do, he should be used to it, right? well, no. si-eun felt his breath hitch. his heart raced, beating faster than usual. he froze, shoulders tense. you were too tired to notice, but he was noticing everything, every detail. he noticed your breathing on his shoulder, strands of your hair brushing against his neck, the way you bumped your knee against his — he isn't taking this very well.

eventually, you noticed. you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him, seeing that the tips of his ears were pink, his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle, nudging his arm with your shoulder. "you're blushing." you mumble, teasing him. he turns his head away, making you giggle even more. you were about to say something else, but gotak interrupted you.

"yah, lovebirds! come over here and play!" gotak yells, grabbing both of your attention. jun-tae smiles, nodding in agreement. you sigh and stand up, grabbing si-eun's hand in the process. "come on, they'll keep bothering us if we don't go." you softly say, tugging him onto his feet. he stands up with your assistance, his flushed face becoming worse after he processes the word "lovebirds". you don't comment on it, knowing that you're fully blushing as well. when you two arrive on the court, you're both a blushing mess.

currently, you're in si-eun's house, sitting on his bed as you eat some food you grabbed from his fridge. he's by his desk, studying per usual. his focus is on his notebooks, but it quickly shifts onto you when you speak up. "hey, si-eun? i gotta ask, do you like me?" he freezes, not expecting the question. "uh, no. why do you ask?" he replies, lying.

"i don't know, i just feel like you like someone! you're acting all weird and stuff."

"weird, how?"

"you've been staring at me a lot. you blush when i do things i've been doing for months. you answer less. and i also heard from jun-tae that you stare at me with some type of way... like you're in love with me or something."

si-eun sighs, hearing your explanation. he knows he can't hide anymore, he has to say it, he has to admit it. it's been months, it's now or never.

"maybe i do like you."

you blink, looking up from your food. your eyes widen, your cheeks flushing. you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. you look down at your lap, smiling to yourself. "well, i'm glad to hear that." you whisper, glancing back to si-eun. he smiles at you, an actual smile. you've never seen si-eun smile like this before, and now that you're finally seeing it... god, he's so pretty.

the silence drags longer than expected. it isn't an awkward type of silence — it's a comfortable one. you didn't say it exactly, but si-eun knows that you feel the same way as he does. and he knows that you'll still be his only exception.

© flwrfields

[teaboot]

Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

[frostbitebakery]

A Disturbed State Of The Natural Environment, Gods-Fucking-Dammit

A Pada-Wan Story

for @lttrsfrmlnrrgby

“Obi— Commander Kenobi-“

“You can call me Obi-Wan, Cody,” the kid huffs. “Neither you nor I will suddenly combust into a ball of fire if you do.”

You don’t know that, Cody thinks, not liking how his voice sounds in his mind.

Four days since the incident - or, “The Incident,” how Boil and Waxer like to say in unison with the bucket lights under their chins -, two since the 104th of all Battalions received their signal and towed the 212th fleet to the nearest station within the Republic that would allow them to overhaul the ships’ electronics.

It has been exactly two point five hours since Wolffe stopped wheezing at Cody over comms. Nearly as much time as the kid had vanished from under Cody’s paranoid nose.

“Councilor Kenobi is safe and sound,” General Koon had assured him while Wolffe stood at perfect parade rest a step behind, shriek-laughing his armor off.

The kid sighs. “You have come here for a reason?” he asks, stubborn and prim. “Or is Wooley babysitting me not enough?” He points a thumb over his shoulder to Wooley popping up several yards away, waving.

“If you haven’t noticed Hook, Line, and Sinker also keeping an eye on you, my trepidations are justified.”

The kid rolls his eyes, gesturing to three empty looking spots in the distance. “I am well aware Master Koon is in league with you.”

Cody will not explain safety precautions again. He’s saving that for when the kid really sets out to stomp on any and all walls Cody had to hastily and thoroughly built when his General, his partner, suddenly turned into a child at the worst possible development stage for Cody’s sanity.

The kid studies him while Cody is trying to come up with a legitimate reason for looking for him. Direct admittance to personal concern would backfire on Cody in multiple, entertaining ways, and he frankly doesn’t want to deal with that. From the kid being smug that Cody cares about him very much so keeping his distance must mean something more. To accusations of not trusting Obi-Wan (which, correct, Cody doesn’t know him after all), seeing him as a kid (also true) when he’s sixteen and basically a stone’s throw away from becoming a geezer.

Sixteen. Cody shudders. He remembers very well that half year when he was that developmental age. He shudders again. Gods, the mood swings alone.

“I am reasonably paranoid about your welfare,” he says at last. Wooden which makes him cringe but he’s never lied to Obi-Wan and he’s not starting now.

The kid stares at him for a while. One corner of his mouth quirks up with a shrug and a shuttered look in his eyes Cody desperately wants to make better. “It’s different when they really are out to get you, isn’t it.” The Council had explained how precarious his older self’s safety was at the best of times. Cody had only seen the aftermath and the accompanying ranting about life choices with the occasional visibly happy understanding that Obi-Wan could, actually, grow a non-patchy beard when he’s got a few more years on him.

“May I sit with you?” Cody asks. Shoveling his own metaphorical grave is so much easier with mixed signals after all. But he misses the older Obi-Wan. It’s not fair of him but he needs this.

The expected blush blooms on freckled cheeks. “Yes, of course!” is the eager reply, followed by more blushing.

It’s endearingly cute and Cody would like to chew on his bucket now.

The kid scoots over, wide eyed and expectant.

Gingerly, Cody lowers himself, ignoring the armor digging into his ass and thighs. And lets the silence stretch.

This, really, is what he came here for. A self-indulgent little break to catch his breath. The High General of a Systems Army is compromised and that fact has to remain eyes only to an exclusive handful of people. Only the Jedi Council knows out of obvious necessity. So it’s up to Cody to keep everything else running, keeping the admiralty in the dark because even teenaged Obi-Wan had said he’s got a bad feeling if they were to tell the brass. So they haven’t.

Usually, when flimsiwork and war horrors keep stacking up and expand into an avalanche, Obi-Wan and Cody sit together in silence, sharing a precious cup of real tea, being together and lending support and strength they can’t find for themselves but can always, always find for each other.

Selfishly he wants that strength from Obi-Wan now, the warmth of his body nearby. He’s already breathing easier.

The kid is looking at him curiously, but Cody chooses not to say anything. Instead he turns forward once more, watching the busy night markets of the station and the stars behind it. After a moment the kid does the same.

Shoulders slowly relax and the silence becomes comfortable.

[slippinninque]

🥤Taking Five 🥪

Alex Cross x blackfemreader

In which Alex lends a hand

Warnings: None! Fluff and a reminder to us all to take a lil break!

You went to make a move towards the door before I was opened but you froze when Alex's eyes popped wide at the sight of your frenzied state, slowly setting down what looks like the pizza you had delivered and a bag that held in the squeaks of Styrofoam containers.

"'Heeey, baby...what are you up to?"

Alex's weak attempt at a greeting made you laugh, fretting as you ran a hand over the scarf covering your hair. You knew how you looked--like someone who hasn't taken a break since the previous work day.

"This isn't what it looks like! ...Maybe."

Alex raised a brow at you and turned dramatically to show all the files, steno-pads, and prints littering your living room floor. You were at the center still sitting cross-cross as you looked up at Alex's approaching form.

"You forgot I had a key?"

"....lil' bit? Uh, you came over really fast."

"Sounded like you needed back up. All I heard was turning pages and that squeaky ass highlighter you use."

"Aye, ease up on my bestie, okay? We're two weeks strong at this point!"

Alex watched you stand and winced at the series of pops and cracks you let out but had no reaction to. Had you really sat there since he called you damn near 5 hours ago? Alex went over to put lunch onto the kitchens table. Glancing around, he saw a single bowl and mug in dishwater. Another glance to the top of your fridge confirmed that, thanks to the open top of your Apple Jacks, you had a very distracted breakfast and nothing else.

"Put. It. Down."

You rose a brow at Alex, looking up from the phone you took from it charger as you wandered into the kitchen. He rose both of his and tilted his head, making you pucker your lips and follow his directions.

You watched as Alex went through your space. You were so close to having figured out the timeline of break throughs of an ice-cold case, all traces of your body's needs fled in the face of the hamster wheel that's your brain has become.

Standing there in the middle of your madness, Alex finally turned to you and gave a little sigh. He held out his hands and the smile he gave you had you coming closer.

Alex kissed your cheeks warmly and your toes wriggled in your fuzzy socks, even as you tried to give him a suspicious look.

"I think it's time for a break, beautiful."

The worst words you could have heard at the moment. When you went to look at the manila folder still open to the curious fibers of velvet left behind---

A hand settled on your cheek and you whined in protest, "Baby..."

"I don't want to eat alone." Alex said over your whine before he brought you closer with his free hand, "An I'm ready to eat."

Well, that sent a tingle right down between your legs. You were suddenly aware of all the ink stains on your hands and your mismatched lounge wear. With a mumble, you tried to excuse yourself but Alex caught you around the waist.

He pulled you closer, smiled slowly, and kissed you deep. Your arms lifted up on their own to curl around his neck, swaying into him as you suddenly felt every hour you sat curled up around your notes.

"There we go," Alex's wide hands massaged your cheeks and down the side of your neck to watch your eyes flutter close, "That's it. C'mon, take your pretty self over there and grab some plates. You got any juice? I can go for some juice..."

You did as he asked, grabbing two plates and two mugs as well. Alex nodded you over to the couch after taking your load away. You couldn't help but to feel fuzzy at the sight of Alex going to fill your plays and fetch drinks.

It's not that you didn't like to be up under Alex, it's just you knew he had responsibilities. Real life shit that included two, brilliant little lives that needed care and attention. You didn't mind waiting your turn, it was what you were used too.

Alex sang a little tune as he came bearing two plates filled with a hodgepodge of food. Pizza and fries along with apple juice, your stomach roared and Alex 'tsked' at you as he joined you.

The pizza was still warm and you sighed as you took the first few bites. Alex watched you as if he could see the food going down into your stomach. One hand holding your cup, the other dodging your teeth-- you wriggled as you swore you felt the nutrients hit your system. Alex chuckled at your huff-eat-puff- rhythm and you laughed as best as you could, cheeks puffed as Alex reached out to swipe pizza sauce from your lip.

"I haven't heard from you until this morning and I gotta say, I don't like that one bit." Alex said pointedly.

"I know, I know--I got wrapped up. That's my fault."

"No fault needed. I just want to make sure you're eating something more than all that damned candy you got on your shelves."

You rolled your eyes and scrunched your features at him as you popped the pizza crust into your mouth. Alex was putting another slice into your plate, stealing a fry on his way out.

The two of you ate in silence until half the pizza and the entire batch of fries were gone. Alex took off his shoes and you found the remote to switch your jazz back on. You stretched out with a satisfied little coo before deflating onto the couch.

You felt more present than you did in the last 24 hours, finally outside of your head and note margins. Your hands felt lighter without the weight of files or your cellphone.

Alex clearing his throat caught your attention. He had long ago moved away his plate and instead leaned back against the couch, thighs spreading as he guested you closer. You eyed the space between his legs before grabbing the throw from behind you, sliding up against him.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his own leaning back against the couch as his eyes closed. His arms were firm and he smelled so good. Maybe you can bargain for him to be your personal teddy for all the breaks you needed to take...

"I don't want to run you. I just want to take care of you." He said softly, "Take a little break every once in a while. For me? No more playing the living statue, right?"

"Right."

That got you a tight hug, Alex hum reverberating through you as you tucked yourself into a little ball. Alex pulled his long self up onto the couch and turned himself into the perfect body pillow. If your senses weren't so focused on relaxing, you'd probably be absolutely giddy. Any other time you were more motivated by those delicious thighs of his but being cradled by the man had you feeling a bit fuzzy headed.

"I took an hour. Think we can squeeze in a quick nap?"

Your answer was to tuck your face into his neck with a hush. His laugh was somehow just as warm as the hands wandering up and down your back. All thoughts of what had to be done went to the back of your mind as all you could think about was how comfortable you were.

Taking 5 wouldn't hurt a bit....

---------

✨ending notes: ✨Alex visited me in the middle of a loooong work day and what a wonderful daydream that was 😌💕✨TYSM for reading!! Tell me what you think, reblog and comment pretty please!

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[carame1bunny]

Hi!:D

Wanted to ask if you mind writing smth smth heavy angst for Jayce? Some mental breakdown maybe with hints of self-hatred, cause so far all the fiction I saw was about Viktor having bad time, but I really want to see my bbgirl Jayce suffer:(

Bonus points if Viktor actually finds him like that for the first time and is scared as hell but helps the golden boy (JayVik for life yeeeah)

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭! 𝐈 𝐡��𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!<3

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭(𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟), 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

It was all becoming too much. The invisible grasp wrapped around his heart was becoming tighter and tighter.

His days were spent trying to please everyone, while losing himself more. Every expectation from him chipped at his will to live. As the days became weeks, he realized that he just couldn’t please someone without hurting another. The more he tried to make good, the more he spoiled and complicated things.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he slept soundly, the cogs in his mind never stopped.

Hextech, the Council, the question of Zaun’s independence—they never left his mind.

He was absolutely sure that if it wasn’t for his sleeping pills guaranteeing him a good night’s sleep, he could have easily ended up in the hospital.

However, it all changed when you popped into his life.

To him, you were a breath of fresh air, a safe place he could always hide away in.

You were the electric impulse that kept his heart beating.

When with you, he felt like nothing was impossible.

Your gentle petting made him sleep like a bear. That good, dreamless sleep that he desperately craved.

For more than a year, you kept him from going insane. However—nothing lasts forever.

One day, it all came back to him.

His own mind constantly torturing him. The pressure.

Again, he could only rely on those little blue pills, which only added to his guilt. He was so lucky to have you, and he still depended on them.

Before, when he passed by a mirror, all he could see was a successful and brilliant, and a fool endlessly in love.

Now, all he could see were the heavy bags under his eyes, the constant line between his eyebrows, the everlasting frown on his lips, the slump of his shoulders and the worst of all…

That dull empty look in his eyes. Gone was the young scientist with big dreams. For a while, it was affection that held him together, but he lost sight of what was important along the way. The person in the mirror made him want to shatter it into tiny pieces. His insecurities soon found their way to him. Jayce felt ugly, like a beast, on the outside and the inside. He hated the scars on his face, the gap in his tooth, the pudge on the bottom of his stomach.

He hated himself.

Even your touch couldn’t soothe him, and those were big words. Your presence didn’t brighten his day like before. He was still deeply in love with you, it was his declining mental health at fault, not as if he saw it that way. He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you. He would rather bash in his own skull with a hammer, than breaking your darling heart.

He thought that no one saw his suffering. Not the people of Piltover, not the Council, and not even you. He mastered the art of acting like he was happy, even you believed it. You had no idea how many tears he shed while holding you in his arms.

However, you happened to notice that you saw him less and less. Rainchecks started occurring more often than not. While it saddened you, you knew how hard he worked and tried to accept that. And you were more than aware that trying to talk to him about it was no good. Whenever the topic of his mental health came up, he shut down. He either became mute or angry, at himself, of course.

But, since he barely saw you, Viktor was the one seeing his declining mental state. He, too, tried talking to Jayce, but got the same behaviour. The scientist figured that it was a phase that would pass by. Boy… how wrong he was.

It happened on a rainy night. Viktor just couldn’t fall asleep for the life of him, especially after working on a calculation all day, with no direct answer. Once he laid in his bed, an idea popped into his head, a potential answer to the rune combination that nagged him the whole day. He quickly got dressed and made his way back into the lab. As he got closer, he could hear it. It was so unexpected that, for a second, he was sure it was his exhaustion. A moment later, he heard it again.

The sound of Jayce Talis sobbing.

He peeked in and his eyes widened. The decorative mirror in their lab was shattered to pieces, and Jayce was kneeling before it. His sobs made his whole body shake, his knuckles were bloody.

Viktor knew that he couldn’t do anything, he wasn’t what Jayce needed at the moment. He couldn’t provide the gentleness that the golden boy needed, but one other person could.

He rushed back to his room and dialed your number.

After a bit, you were nearly tearing the lab door down.

You ran all the way to the Academy, fearing that if you got there later, Jayce would harm himself. As you stepped in, your heart tightened. Your sweet boy was looking up at you, but he wasn’t the Councilor Talis that Piltover knew… No, he was a scared boy, whose walls finally came tumbling down.

There wasn’t a second wasted, you fell on your knees beside him and immediately cradled him into your arms. In a flash, a pair of strong arms were clinging on to you, the head buried in your chest seeking comfort. Your shirt got wetter and wetter, due to his tears that were refusing to stop even for a second.

“Oh, my darling…” Your fingers caressed his hair. Just the loving and gentle touch he needed.

“I…I—Please, forgive me…” he half-said and half-sobbed.

“It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s just… all of it. This… pressure.” His body grew more limp and tired with every cry. “I never asked for this!”

You held his face in your hands and lifted it, so his puppy eyes could meet this. You smiled gently at him, which caused his expression to slightly relax. “I know. I cannot imagine being in your shoes. But admitting that this pressure is making you crack… makes you the strongest person I know. No one else could do what you do, and take pride in that. Also, take pride of the fact that you are a person, and as a person, you are allowed to feel like everything is too much. It’s not shameful to take a break. It. Does. Not. Make. You. Weak.”

After some silence, he spoke.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Come on.” You helped him up from the ground. “Let’s get you home.

Once you were home, you cleaned up the cuts on his knuckles, and helped him into bed. Eventually, his cries stopped. His body left the tension behind. Finally, he could let himself rest, the world could wait.

As he laid in your arms, felt that healing touch of yours, he could only think about one thing.

It was all going to okay.

[thesophistiicate]

hey im 20 year old female. recently i have recognised that i practice negative self talk a lot. any advices how could i stop or atleast reduce it?

how to cure negative self talk 🤍💭

the way we speak to ourselves can majorly impact our self worth and ability to reach our goals. i remember when i first tuned into my inner monologue… i was shocked and disgusted at how horribly i was speaking to myself all day every day. i had no idea! so i began researching how to stop it and implementing as much as i could. it definitely takes a lot of active work but i’m happy to say that years later i currently hardly ever have negative thoughts about myself (or others) anymore, and when i do it’s really easy to catch and deal with.

1. tune into your thoughts

it’s common for negative thoughts to run wild through our minds without us actually even noticing. the first step is to take some time to tune in and really notice what you’re thinking. the best time to do this is in “trigger” moments, like when you’re stressed, facing something challenging, looking at yourself, reflecting on a social interaction etc. how you talk to yourself in these moments will be very revealing.

2. actively reframe negative thoughts

flip any negative thought you have into an opposite, positive thought and/or speak to yourself with compassion and nurture. a common one for me when i was stressed while working and feeling stuck was “ugh i’m so stupid!” i changed it to “i’m smart and capable of solving problems”. it will feel silly at first but the more you do it, the more natural it becomes. with time you won’t have the negative thoughts at all.

3. journalling/writing morning pages

morning pages are from “the artist’s way”, which i recommend everyone read and try at least once in their life. but you write 3 pages of free flowing thoughts first thing in the morning (ideally). no self editing, anything that crosses your mind goes down. this is where a lot of your deep negative thoughts tend to spew out, and this allows you to see them, confront them, and view them as the silly little thoughts they are. your negative thoughts are from shame and fear; you need to express them and get them out. shame thrives in darkness but will shrivel under the light.

4. practice mindfulness and staying present in the moment

so often we spiral into negativity due to overwhelm. guided meditations helped me a lot (you can find them on YouTube, Spotify, insight timer etc). you’re essentially trying to re-wire your automatic brain response so you need to be able to stop running on autopilot and actually tune into what’s happening inside by gaining some control over your thoughts. it’s literally like training a muscle so is difficult at first, but you get better at it the more you do.

5. eliminate distractions and consider a dopamine detox

we numb and distract ourselves in a variety of ways. whether it’s constantly surrounding ourselves with people, scrolling social media, binge watching tv, over-using substances or other indulgences etc… these things are fine in moderation (and actually can be necessary to overall wellbeing, i think being constantly self aware can also drive you crazy and you’re allowed to have a break) but take note of how often you are actually numbing yourself out and promoting disconnection with your mind. you need to be able to face your thoughts.

6. notice how you think about others, too

i’ve mentioned before one of my worst qualities to overcome was the fact i could be very judgemental and arrogant. i actually found this was directly related to my negative self perception - after all, what we think about others is usually actually just a projection of how we feel about ourselves, our insecurities, our fears. so i also made an effort to stop judging others and instead find positives to focus on. this worked so well to overall retrain my mind toward positivity (and also started attracting much more healthy and positive relationships into my life too).

and consider tailored support if necessary

if you struggle with any of the steps on your own, a therapist, counsellor, coach, or other professional may able to be help with more personalised guidance 🤍

[makingspiritualityreal]

Hi,

I read your post on difficult Jyestha placements, the themes that you discussed I haven’t heard anyone else discuss yet I’ve always felt these themes in my own life (Rahu in Jyestha 6th, with its Lord in the 4th house in Libra).

I used to feel like I was going insane because both my mother and father spent a lot of my childhood and adulthood wounding my self esteem through all kinds of abuse. As I got older I realised that my father was extremely narcisstic and the idea of me ever being more successful than him in any capacity was a threat to him, so he found ways to sabotage me. A lot of it was psychological wounding and making me fear the outside world. I am on the receiving end of jealousy from my mother, my sister who I’ve loved and most females growing up. I have very little other than my own soul so I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve also always helped others with tasks in their life that were important to them, applications for jobs, dream internships, encouraging them to follow their inspirations.

The worst part is, you’re right, it’s a difficult placement, and I haven’t ended up like Indra, defeating his enemies. I’ve ended up as a fraction of who I used to be, and I am trying to piece my life together to even get the basics together let alone being successful in the dreams that I had when I was younger. I wanted to ask you, how did you understand that this is an experience in life with Jyestha placements? Because I have not come across any other astrologer who was able to understand this, is it through your work with clients? If so, could you share if the experience is life long or they were able to eventually become a success in whatever their definition of success was?

It’s interesting that you mention female figures particularly in one’s life, because Jyeshta’s talent is self defense against negative female forces, on both the physical and astral plane. The solution to this is having one’s own compass, and knowing right from wrong on an objective basis. If you’re harmful to women, you will pay for it, but if you’re fair, female forces will reward you with obedience and care after testing you. The neighboring Nakshatra of Mula shows similar themes to an extent.

As to how I came into this observation, it’s a unique mix of theoretical study and experience, I was brought up with a lot of Jyeshta family members, and have prominent Mula in my chart myself, and like I said these Nakshatras have similar themes. Don’t forget every chart is unique, so you’re gonna get results from different Jyeshtas at different times.

It seems to me like you’re still young, and so it would be unrealistic to expect certain results. It takes time to mature into a planet, Rahu specifically matures at 42. Also, victories in Jyeshta come after a certain fair ruthlessness is developed. Helping people who don’t deserve it and giving breaks to people who want to hurt you, even if they’re family, are not the kind of behaviors Jyeshta rewards. You need to learn to accept a certain kind of solitude, independence and clarity that comes from eliminating everything that is harmful to you. I understand it’s sad and painful and difficult, but it’s necessary if you want to progress and heal in any way in life. If you keep giving to the wrong people, you will just end up more and more depleted. The victory here really happens on the inside first, developing discipline in decisively cutting off unhealthy attachments.

You say you don’t know what’s going on, but you do. Jyeshta is sharp and quick to spot anyone trying to undermine them, could be paranoid on the negative end. You are aware that you don’t have family support. The best thing you can do is put yourself in the best situation available, away from anyone who could harm you, not waste your energy on people who feel jealous and won’t support you, and then do what you’re already doing, picking yourself up piece by piece. It’s unrealistic to expect yourself to figure everything out so soon, especially when you don’t have the advantage of a basic external support network. In fact, even people in healthier, working family environments are often stable, but stuck in dead end jobs, not really doing anything meaningful with their lives. Stay focused, be vigilant and loving towards yourself and you will eventually get to the right place.

[various-things]

garak: best ending and worst ending

Thank you for the ask!!

As an ASIT-enjoyer, Andy's writing influences my strongest post-canon opinions (and is also always a strong influence on my general feelings about Garak as a character re: various motivations but! I don't think that conflicts with or undermines canon discussion). I suppose in the long fic I'll eventually finish I'll explore my take on a "best ending" of sorts for Garak within that additional non-canon series of events, but in my answer here I'm going to stick to the show's events as what's "known."

In the show itself, I'm pretty satisfied with Garak's ending. He gets multiple things he has wanted for years at immense personal cost. Threads of his story are closed off and new questions are raised, more recent trauma is created, possible futures are inferable. Surely, after he leaves us in that control room, he'll be trying to help Cardassia in some way; being useful is something he understands as such a core need for himself. When I think of a worst ending for Garak in some After beyond the closing of the show, I see some degree of continuation of what we saw in the final season: his actions directly leading to immense loss. In the show, his code-breaking leads to attacks on Cardassian planets. He loses his last family member because he came to her for shelter. Two million people were murdered in Lakarian City in a direct retaliation for acts of sabotage carried out by a rebellion he was involved in leading. All of it visibly devastates him. The Dominion is ultimately stopped and he knew the cost to Cardassia could/would be great, but how he processes that trauma in the future is yet to be determined. In a worst ending, I see him trying to help Cardassia recover in some way and his actions continually resulting in more death, more harm, more suffering, without accomplishing the things he is trying for. He wants so badly to help. He thinks he has skills and knowledge to offer, but his presence only seems to result in more horrible things. Maybe sometimes it couldn't have been predicted—some awful bit of bad luck or chance that didn't work out. Maybe sometimes he made a genuine mistake with a horrible cost. What does he do then? Has this series of tragedies alienated him from other Cardassians even further? More isolation but where now he feels it is profoundly and fundamentally because of himself? But I think the continued loss he'd caused, the harm he'd done, would be the worst thing to live with—even if the potential solace of revenge may no longer be an avenue he could explore, not with this. In a best ending, I'd hope he'd be far removed from the potential to do so much damage, if he could let himself have a life like that. I think he would need to know of other leaders that he believed in. He'd need to become aware of others he felt some degree of trust in as far as their ability to help a people (because Cardassia really is the people and romanticized culture for him) he loves so much. I'd hope he could lead a life where he felt useful, and where he could help others, where the stakes are not so dire and the fulfillment would remain profound. I think he has a great (insufficiently self-acknowledged) need for a lot of healing ahead of him. He would get time and space for that, a life with comfort and softness, and small frequent pleasures. And of course, Julian would be there. The person Garak loves so much and who has played the biggest role in the ways he's changed. For Julian, I think something other than a life with Garak would need to unblock Julian on pursuing that. We've seen various stuff get them together in fic as far as something like that—him staying on Cardassia because he's a doctor and he can't leave the hurt people who need help now, or ways his relationship with Ezri doesn't work out, etc. But in Garak's best ending, Julian is also there. I really enjoyed answering this, thank you again for the prompt! <3

[apricustar]

Hii JD! I was reading your take on Buck talking about transferring and IDK if this is too personal, but the way you write about Buck sometimes really hits close to home. I do a lot of similar things where I feel like things are on me even if they might not be. How do you break that pattern? What do you think it would take for Buck to break that pattern?

hi nonnie, first of all, thank you for this message, and for trusting me with something personal! (the og post for anyone wanting to read)

let me start by saying this: it hits close to home for me too. i think a big reason i write about buck in the way i do is because i see and understand him; or maybe more truthfully: because i see myself in him. 

watching him at times feels a bit like looking into a mirror. i know why it is he does the things he does, because i've done them too.

there’s that awful feeling of never feeling quite good enough—for someone to stay, to choose you, to love you the way you so badly want to be loved. feeling like too much—like you're taking up too much space, talk too loudly, say too much. believing that if anyone were to fully, really see you, they'd leave; because eventually, it feels like everyone does.

so you start to preempt it. you pull back first. shrink yourself down. maybe start a few arguments, say and do some things without much thought. you make it easier for people to walk away by convincing yourself they were going to anyway. it feels easier if it's on your terms—more manageable, less painful.

i know that spiral all too well. someone's voice changes and my first thought is always what did i do? what did i say wrong? (i wrote more in detail about buck doing this here if you want to read that...) like, okay, the other day i came home and said hi to my roommate. she said hi back but sounded VERY subdued; i took it as her being upset with me. which was made worse by her not asking about how my classes were like usual. instantly my brain was like oh god, she's mad at me, what did i do??? i ran through a whole list of possible offenses and felt so anxious!!!

and then later she came around and told me she'd gotten a grade she was upset about. we talked about the grade and stuff of course, but then i told her i thought she had been mad at me. she was confused and laughed and then i laughed and we then were both laughing and i was like shit! more than 9 times out of 10 it has nothing to do with me, but still, my first instinct is blaming myself and i feel this horrible stomach-dropping anxiety. 

so, so. so buck. how do you break that pattern? how will buck break that pattern? well, to be clear, i am not a mental health professional, nor will i claim to be (though, i am getting my degree!). but from where i stand, i think the first step is recognizing the pattern for what it is: a defense mechanism. a way of trying to grab onto whatever thread of control you can in situations that feel uncertain and overwhelming. 

it comes from somewhere, of course. when you grow up having to guess what version of love—what version of your caretakers—you’re going to get (if you get it at all), you start to prepare for the worst. you scan for danger. you take blame as a shortcut to control: if it’s my fault, maybe i can fix it. maybe i can be better.

and that kind of self-blame becomes automatic—deeply and painfully familiar. a thought cycle that loops endlessly, until it feels like instinct. the truth is, it once served a purpose. but it doesn’t have to keep defining how you move through the world.

one of the best tools for breaking those loops—besides awareness and practicing self-compassion—is learning how to challenge and reframe the thoughts themselves. this is where something like cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) can be incredibly powerful. buck struggles with thoughts like: i ruined everything. i make things worse. if i were better—if I tried harder—this wouldn't have happened. this is all my fault.

CBT helps you slow down in those spirals and ask things like: is this true? is there evidence for it? is there another explanation? it teaches you to catch these thoughts and gently rework them—not 'i always ruin everything,' but 'i made a mistake this time, and that doesn't define me.'

buck's healing won't come from just rewiring those beliefs internally. it's also going to come from the outside—from safety, from consistency, from relationships that stay steady even when he falters. he needs to find someone who doesn't just say 'you matter,' but shows him—again and again—that he doesn't have to be perfect or performative to be worth staying, worth loving.

he has this in the 118– in eddie. he just needs to start believing it.

and that in large part comes from experiencing it over and over again. from letting people close, even when every alarm in his brain is telling him to brace for impact. from trusting that silence doesn't always mean upset, that distance doesn't always mean abandonment. from realizing that real love doesn't evaporate the moment he stops proving himself.

healing doesn't always look like big revelations. sometimes it's choosing to stay—to keep trying—even when you're afraid, especially when you're afraid. it's trying to be kind to yourself even when you feel like you're on a hamster wheel going a million miles. it’s pausing to breathe. to rework the story you’re telling yourself. to stop turning every misstep into a sweeping conclusion about your worth.

it’s learning to believe the kind things someone says, even when they feel impossible. it’s understanding that being loved isn’t a transaction—it’s a truth.

and maybe that's how the pattern finally breaks: not all at once, not in one giant grand gesture, but in the quiet, day-to-day moments. when buck allows himself patience. when he forgives himself. when he doesn’t run. when he lets someone stay. when he starts to believe that maybe—just maybe—he was never too much to begin with. when he allows himself to simply receive affection and care without first questioning it or believing it an impossibility. 

[tobiofy]

yachi's significance in haikyuu (and the importance of writing great characters no matter how minor they are)

ok so this is my first ACTUAL tumblr post so im kinda nervous lmao pls be nice. im aware that this topic isnt necessarily groundbreaking and yachi isnt like the MOST FORGOTTEN CHARACTER EVER but there is a pretty noticeable lack of appreciation for her especially considering how CRUCIAL she was to karasuno's growth so im gonna talk abt it here bcs my girl deserves more love

(edit: i've now added screenshots to show some of my points better! and also to break up all the blocks of text lol)

disclaimer: i decided to write about this after my rewatch of haikyuu at the start of 2025, which means im basing this all off of memory. so if not everything is 100% accurate thats why, but i promise it still counts to the message im tryna send. also this will contain minor spoilers for the timeskip and is also kinda long so buckle up

for starters, let's talk about her direct contributions. the first thing yachi does after being recruited is design a poster for the club after overhearing that they're struggling to gain transport funds. while it may seem simple, this alone helps them receive enough donations to afford a bus for their away games and also leads to people having hope in karasuno's resurgence due to her strategically referencing the little giant, which was a morale booster they definitely benefitted from since this was when they were still trying to regain their former glory as a team. this shows her directly utilizing her strengths the moment she joins the club because she knows that even though volleyball isn't her strong suit, graphic design is

(the glowup is insane but i also lowkey love that kiyoko canonically cannot draw for shit bless her heart LMFAOAO)

after that we see her working hard to learn from kiyoko during matches. she's taking notes, setting up practice games, refilling water bottles and also learning about volleyball terminology in her own time which of course are all things that are expected from a manager. but focusing on the last one, considering she was someone with absolutely no interest or prior experience in sports, the fact that she was pouring so much dedication into learning the technicalities of it shows that her mother's words ("joining passionate people when you aren't going to give it your all is the rudest thing you could do.") definitely influenced her

now to be fair, her mom is far from the worst anime mom out there, but it can't be denied that she does contribute to alot of the self esteem issues yachi has from her remarks, even if it comes from a good place

so the fact that yachi was able to see past the surface level of her mom's words after hinata's encouragement and actually put it into practice shows her desire to grow and become better. which also probably put kiyoko (and by extent the rest of karasuno) at ease due to them having a promising successor for a manager since there seems to be a recurring struggle in recruiting club managers for some reason lol

on the topic of kiyoko, i also think that yachi's existence directly links to us knowing more about her. both times when kiyoko opens up about her past or expresses personal feelings yachi is there, and (as a few other haikyuu fans have brought up) it's when they are in states of undress

we already see kiyoko act as a mentor figure and express a wider range of emotions when yachi is around (concern, amusement, protectiveness etc) but it's a fact that both times she chooses to open up, yachi is present (whether you ship kiyoyachi or not) which alludes to her feeling more comfortable in divulging about her hardships to another girl. since she's normally only around guys, kiyoko really appreciated having another girl in the volleyball club that she could connect with on a more personal level

to add to that, everytime these moments happen it's always when the two of them are ALONE. NO BOYS. these scenes are also never used as fanservice or conveniently angled for the viewers to ogle at the girls' bodies. its just a private moment between two girls sharing and learning about each other. furthermore, the lack of clothing could LITERALLY symbolize kiyoko revealing more about herself, and yachi being open to receiving that information since they're BOTH in vulnerable states

(sidetracking for a bit: i also do think that it's a very intentional narrative choice that we only learn more about kiyoko quite late into the series. we see furudate do this with tsukki and later kageyama too, because considering her more closed off personality, furudate made it so we have to LITERALLY SPEND ENOUGH TIME WITH HER to get to know more about her, and i think that it's neat)

and obviously, it would be remiss of me if i didnt mention her contributions to kagehina during the training camp arc. she already went out of her way to tutor them after school hours AND for their retake as seen in the ova

(this is me promoting the failing marks ova bcs it's just 23 mins of pure slice of life shenanigans. if ur like me and love seeing them interact outside vb this is gonna be a treat for you too)

but even more importantly, she also relentlessly helped them practice the new freak quick night after night even after their fight, showing just how much she cared about them and wanted them to succeed. which is why it makes me so happy that right after hinata and kageyama perfect the new freak quick the moment she notices it she's ECSTATIC, since she saw firsthand all the ups and downs it took to get there. and in turn the FIRST person THEY acknowledge is HER, showing that this victory is just as much hers as it is theirs, directly telling the audience that this would not have been possible without her.

i think this moment really solidified yachi as an integral part of the team, which is further proven in the timeskip

(OKAAYY GIRLBOSS look at her training 2 managers im so proud)

anyway, her contributions aside, i'm also very pleased that furudate didn't take the easy way out by slowly making her fade out of existence after 2 eps or making her a potential love interest for one of the boys, which is an unfortunate fate many female characters in male dominated media are subjected to. i think initially most people expected her be hinata's love interest since they have some moments together in the first few eps she's in. but as the series progresses most of their interactions consist of her occasionally cheering for him at games or him thanking her for helping out, which (shipping preferences aside) honestly leans more platonic than romantic. i'm glad that furudate subverted the expectations of a female character NEEDING to fall in love since she's constantly surrounded by male characters because that's simply not how it is irl lmao. healthy platonic male and female friendships exist and should definitely be represented more in media, and yachi being allowed to exist as her own independent character instead of an accessory for one of the guys is SUCH a breath of fresh air

NOW THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN WHERE MY ANALYSIS ENDED, however right as i was debating whether or not to post this on tumblr, i stumbled across this video by artist Airi Pan who talked about bringing back great (not just good) design. the entire video has great points and i highly recommend watching it, but the one that really struck a chord with me was the last one where she says: "great art always gives back." which essentially means that the difference between "good" and "great" art is that great art will inspire others and in turn lead to the birth of even more art in the world

which then got me thinking, isn't that kinda what i'm doing now?

obviously in the video she's talking about character design, but i think this can be applied to just about any form of media out there. furudate didn't HAVE to make yachi such a great and well thought out character, but they DID, and in turn even though she's a minor character, someone out there got inspired by her character and growth and decided to write a tumblr post (which is another form of media) and share it to the internet

am i saying that my singular post is gonna reach millions and change our nation into one that is ruled by hitoka yachi? OF COURSE NOT LMFAO. but my hope is that at least the few people who DO see it find something new to appreciate about her and/or haikyuu and create something else to feed into the endless haikyuu fandom hole, proving the point being made in the video. the most successful character designs are ones that garner the most fanart, cosplays, merch etc etc and the same can be said with the writing for the characters in haikyuu because EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM SERVE A PURPOSE. it makes the world feel so lived in and complete, which attributes to why SO MANY people have fallen in love with it and have been inspired by furudate's work regardless if they even like/play volleyball because the lessons and messages being presented can be applied to just about anything in life

and the best part is that it DOESN'T EVEN NEED TO BE COMPLEX. as much as i am a sucker for deeply layered characters filled with intricate lore and complicated pasts that shape their morally gray actions, you also can't beat something that is simple and done well, which in this case arguably benefits to haikyuu more since it's a story that's grounded in reality. while yachi isn't a standout ace on the girl's volleyball team that shoots lasers out of her eyes to avenge her dead parents, NEITHER DOES THE AVERAGE READER OF HAIKYUU.

but i'm sure everyone out there has experienced moments of self doubt, awkwardness, hesitation, excitement, (illogical) fear and more which are all traits that can be found in yachi

yachi refers to herself as "townsperson b" which is a role that is so insignificant it doesn't even have an actual name. showing how feels like she's just someone in the background compared to the "main characters" - something i'm sure lots of people have felt before. which is what makes her more relatable to the viewer and shows that even if you have these traits or feel these feelings, it doesn't mean you can't make a difference or that you should let them stop you from stepping out of your comfort zone. once again showing that (even though it isn't easy) there is merit in putting so much care and love into what you create that even the smallest of characters can be inspiring to others (like how yachi was to me)

SO TLDR: yachi's seemingly small contributions ended up playing a major role in the over arching plot of karasuno's growth which ultimately proves furudate's philosophy of "you don't win alone" because if yachi wasn't here karasuno would still be struggling to gain funds for their away games, without her karsuno wouldn't have another manager, without her we would have never learnt anything about kiyoko, without her kagehina would have failed their midterms and never reached their full potential. without her, karsauno would not be what it is today.

WOW ANYWAY! that was long as hell. im aware this isn't the most well written analysis nor is it anything super life changing (I kinda feel like I'm stating the obvious for some of these lol) but as a yachi kinnie i got emotional after rewatching s2 and thus this word vomit was born. again this is my first time posting anything like this so if you think i've missed anything or would like to add more to this discussion please feel free to reblog and lmk!!!! i am sure that it will make me and the 20 other yachi fans out there very happy <3

[space-matt]

always there for you

matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: They’re not easy days for you, especially when you’re in your dark ones. But luckily you have someone by your side who can make you smile

cw: fluff, mentions of depression, anxiety and hint of cheating

author note: hi all! this is my first story here so pls be kind! I really hope that you’ll like it 

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English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

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revised

"You've gone through the worst time you've ever had."

You’ve always dealt with situations differently than others, and when you’ve been diagnosed with depression, you’ve had confirmation.

It wasn't easy, but thanks to the support of your parents, you slowly got out. You started to live better even when you moved a couple of hours from home to university, only for the first year.

You had everything you could want: good grades, a group of dependable friends, and a boyfriend. But fate dealt you a cruel blow when you caught him in bed with the one friend you trusted.

The city of New York can often leave one feeling trapped and in need of escape. After much contemplation, you decide to embark on a journey of self-discovery, leaving behind a part of yourself in the city that has been your home. With your bags packed and heart filled with anticipation, you prepare to step out into the unknown and embrace new adventures in Los Angeles.

You had managed to find a small apartment and a job at a bar, but despite that, you still had an uneasy feeling at the end of each day. This feeling kept you uncomfortable and you couldn't sleep all night. On top of that you had a lot of work to do, which only added to your anxiety about managing everything.

As you were getting ready to start your shift at the bar, you suddenly saw a man walking towards you with three large glasses in his hand. You tried to move out of the way, but unfortunately, he ended up spilling the drinks all over you. The man, later introduced as Matthew, or Matt for short, was clearly apologetic and offered to help clean you up.

After a few minutes of awkward laughter and wiping the drink off your clothes, Matt suggested that he take you out that same evening to make up for his mistake. Despite the unexpected situation, you agreed to his offer and exchanged phone numbers with him. You couldn't help but feel intrigued by this fallen angel from heaven.

As you spent more and more time together, you found yourself becoming increasingly drawn to him. At first, it was just a casual friendship, but as you got to know him better, you began to see him in a different light. You found yourself admiring his sense of humor, his intelligence, and his kindness.

And as the days went by, you realized that you had developed genuine feelings for him. And it seemed that he felt the same way. The two of you spent more time together, going on long walks, sharing meals, and talking late into the night. It was as if you had found your perfect match, and you couldn't imagine spending your days without him. 

As things seemed to be settling down, your depression episodes grew more intense, keeping you in bed for days.

Your employer had prior knowledge of the situation, but they were understanding enough to grant you a few days of leave without any consequences or negative impact on your job. They recognized the importance of your well-being and the need for you to take time off to deal with the matter at hand, and therefore, they supported your decision to take a break from work. This allowed you to address the issue with a clear mind and return to work feeling refreshed and focused.

Matt was aware of the different medications you had to take in order to alleviate the disturbing thoughts and he was always there for you, supporting you no matter what. However, one thing that bothered you was that no one could see you in that condition, and the fear that one day he might become exhausted made you sink even deeper into the pillow.

For four consecutive days, you found yourself unable to get out of bed. You only left your bed to relieve yourself in the bathroom or to drink water which you had kept on the bedside table. Matt, who was concerned about you, tried to visit you by using the duplicate keys. However, you were not comfortable with the idea of him seeing you in such a vulnerable state, and you refused to let him in.

Despite your love for Matt, you couldn't help but feel guilty and ashamed of the state you were in. You couldn't understand how he could love someone like you who was unable to get out of bed for days. You tried to search for answers, but your mind was foggy, and you couldn't come up with any.

It seems that Matt's accidental spillage of glasses on you may have actually been a blessing in disguise. According to him, having you in his life is one of the best things that has ever happened to him. Your presence and the joy you bring him make him feel incredibly fortunate. Your smile, the touch of your hands, and the way you gaze at him with love and affection leave him spellbound every time.

In fact, if anyone were to ask him if he had any grievances or dislikes about you, he would be at a loss for words because he adores every single part of you, inside and out.

At this very moment, he is putting effort to find something for you, despite knowing that it might not be an ideal time. He wishes for you to comprehend that your appearance does not matter to him. Whether you have been wearing the same pair of pajamas for days, or your hair is messy and you have no make-up on, his only desire is to support you during these difficult times and be there for you every single second.

As you hear the sound of the keys fitting into the lock of the door, you quickly turn your head in the opposite direction. You notice the alarm clock on the bedside table and see that it marks 9:28 in the morning. You realize that you must have passed out last night without even realizing it, and now you are waking up to a brand new day.

In the meantime, Matt straightens up the house and knocks on your door. To his delight, it opens to reveal you lying under a white duvet. He slowly approaches. "Hey, babe, you're awake" he says. You turn around without meeting his gaze, but you can pull yourself up, noticing your favorite red roses on the bed.

You gaze into your partner's eyes, who says "Babe, look at me" Your voice is hoarse from not having spoken in days, but with longing shine in your eyes you say "I missed you"

Matt sits down on the bed beside you and pulls you into a tight embrace. You feel his strong arms wrap around you, and you lean into his chest, feeling safe and loved.

As he holds you, he whispers softly, "I missed you a lot too" Matt tilts his head down and kisses the top of your head, making you feel even more loved and cherished. The warmth of his embrace and the softness of his lips on your head make you feel like all is right in the world again. You take a deep breath and smile, grateful to be reunited with the one you love.

As you hold onto him, you can feel the weight of your emotions bearing down on your shoulders. You know you pushed him away, but you couldn't help it. Looking up into his eyes, you try to explain. "I'm sorry I pushed you away, but you know how I get when I'm in this state" you say softly, hoping he'll understand.

He stops and looks straight into your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "You don't have to worry" he says, reassuringly. "You need your time, and I respect that. You don't have to face this alone. Just know that I'm always here for you. Don't forget it" he adds, his voice gentle and comforting.

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The weight on your shoulders slowly begins to lift. He leans in and kisses you tenderly, and you feel the warmth of his love surround you. "I love you" he whispers. "Love you too" you reply, feeling grateful for his understanding and support.

That's what you missed, him. Matt is the person you have been longing for and he has the ability to make you feel good.

[katyahina]

Gascoigne's beast form stuff (ask reply)

@ anon I decided to respond in this blog instead of my personal/rambles one, hope this is ok!

(Model ripped by tokami-fuko on dA ( x ))

I think this is a fair suggestion that his transformation might go even further, especially considering the fact that he not only barely has any fur, but also his skin keeps its color! Beasthood has a consistent trend of making skin that unnatural grey color:

(LOVE that they bothered to give bestial hunter's normal form unnatural skin color too despite the fact that we can't see it in game! Sometimes their attention to detail is just.. something)

Amelia is probably the biggest pointer as we are clearly shown her human skin color on her hands in a cutscene.. In fact, arguably, Gascoigne is doing a bit better than average Huntsmen, or even better than the fellow Old Hunters (look at hostile Old Hunter mob and 'true' form of Bestial Hunter). He has been losing himself to the hunt and paranoia for a while now and finally lost it, but he doesn't have that much fur, his skin color didn't alter. (He also doesn't have horns unlike Cleric Beasts, Abhorrent Beasts and even Large Huntsmen, but these are not for all beasts so we don't have to count them!)

I think that Huntsmen are transforming gradually over time, consumed by blood and aggression, and their 'final' form is Scourge Beast type, when they become completely animalistic:

I think it is valid to believe that Gascoigne could transform even further, there are enough reasons to think so! He is still too humanoid, all things considered! I will just move onto my personal interpretation now!

The thing about Cleric Beast-leaning Gascoigne is a really great topic of discussion! He already was a 'Father' (as in, religious figure) in his homeland, so, a cleric! As for Yharnam life, not only he was with the Healing Church once and quit it, but also his transformation happens extremely abruptly, that we only saw with Amelia!

(Interviews: ( x ))

The thing about Cleric Beasts is that they're so horrible because they've been holding back for so long. I can imagine Gascoigne being the same, as someone struggling to hold back so much for his family. We just happen to meet him when he finally breaks, but the guy must have had a huge will power to last as much as he did. +Also, please correct me if this was debunked, but as someone who always uses hunter summons to examine their patterns I've noticed that Gascoigne is the only one who never even once uses Blood Vials? If this is intentional, it could be a further evidence of his self-restraint: avoiding consuming the blood being aware of its addicting properties!

But here is why personally I do not headcanon that Gascoigne could transform even further! Unlike average people that are turning gradually, with strongly self-restraining people whatever form they take when they finally break IS their inner beast, it its truest form! This IS already his "cleric beast" form.... And it is not all that big and scary or impressive, because HE didn't have as much evil to hold back as average clerics in Healing Church. One person's very worst won't be the same as another person's very worst, but I also think it psychologically "helped" him to waste some aggression in the hunt - something Laurence and Amelia didn't have!

He murdered and part of the dark urges would escape through it, but he did not hunt in the same unhinged way as Ludwig either, so he is not transforming into someone as big and scary as him. He is just helping people! Not to mention Viola helping him to calm down with the music box when he was forgetting himself in the hunt. Just the right balance between what impulses to restrain and what to unleash!

My personal headcanon is that he cut the ties with the Healing Church over its corruption and wish to self-isolate and abandon the hunt (with the exception of its own walls), leaving the citizens to fend for themselves and defaming Oedon Chapel to bury the "proper" hunt as a concept. He was a honest man with a sense of justice and could not stand resorting to safety and not doing anything to help... But he still had religious principles of self-restrain and patience internalized; if not Healing Church ones, then those of the Church in whatever country he came from! It is also why whereas I believe that Cheric Beast of the Bridge was a Healing Church hunter too, since he drops Sword Hunter badge, he certainly avoided the hunt except for maybe defending Amelia, and mostly participated indirectly as the commander. (Honorable mention: Henriett that did the same, because her clothes imitate Old Hunters' set and she is a summon against Healing Church bosses, but she has Church weapons).

_____________________

Thank you very much for an ask, it was interesting to think about and it helped me to shape my interpretation of the character better! He definitely has something in common with Cleric Beasts, but I just personally like to think that as a 'hold back and snap' kind of beast rather than 'gradually transforming' kind of beast, this IS his "worst"- Still very strong and fearsome, but far from how much evil the corrupt clerics held back! He is just a good boy!

[suddencolds]

The Worst Timing | [1/?]

hello!! I've been wanting to write a longer h/c fic for awhile. This is the exposition/first installment to that (4.8k words).

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I've written for these two!

Summary: Yves invites Vincent to a wedding, in France, where the rest of his family will be in attendance. It's a very important wedding, so he's definitely not going to let anything—much less the flu—ruin it. (ft. fake dating, an international trip, downplaying illness, sharing a hotel room)

—

“A wedding,” Vincent repeats.

“Yes,” Yves says. “A wedding.”

It’s his cousin Aimee’s wedding—she’s four years older than he is. Back when he’d gone with his family back to France over the summers, she’d been one of the people he’d grown quickly to look up to—someone who knew the ins and outs, it seemed, to every stage of life he was in the process of stumbling through.

Yves has always been used to being looked up to—one of the natural consequences, perhaps, of being the eldest in his immediate family—and he likes to think that he’s good at giving off the impression that he has things figured out. But he’d grown close to Aimee at their family reunions precisely because she was everything he tried to be: strong-willed and resilient, self-sufficient even in the face of hardship.

Aimee’s getting married to Genevieve—someone who Yves has only met a couple times, but who manages to be one of the sweetest people he’s ever met. All in all, it’s a wedding he wouldn’t miss under any circumstances.

Leon, his brother, and Victoire, his sister, will be there, along with Aimee’s friends and the rest of his extended family. The problem is that Leon keeps in touch with Mikhail. Mikhail let slip that Yves has been seeing Vincent. Leon told Victoire, who told Aimee. And now Aimee is offering to pay for Vincent’s plane ticket to their wedding in France in the spring—a bit of a last minute arrangement, but she’d sounded so excited at the prospect that Yves was finally seeing someone new (“I’d love to meet him,” she’d said over the phone, “would it be too much to ask him to take a couple days off work? Oh my gosh, please give me his contact details, I’ll send him an invitation,” and she’d sounded so excited about it that he hadn’t had it in him to turn her down).

“It’s very last minute,” he says, “but my cousin’s getting married, and she really wants to meet you. It’ll be some time in early March, in Provence. She says she’ll pay for your flight, if you want to go, but you’d probably have to take a couple days off.”

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking at him. “And you want me to be there?”

“Of course I do,” Yves says. “I think it’s more a question of whether you want to be there.”

Vincent looks back at him, his expression carefully blank. “Are you sure you want to introduce me to your family? That doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that you’d take lightly.”

“They want to meet you,” Yves says. “And I wouldn’t mind introducing you. I think they would really like you.”

“It would be a waste of your time,” Vincent says, quietly, “to introduce me as someone you’re serious about if we’re just planning to break things off.”

Yves is well aware of the fact. This arrangement with Vincent—the trust he places in Vincent; the practiced familiarity, the feigned intimacy—has an expiration date. The fact that he doesn’t know when the expiration date is doesn’t change the fact that it will, inevitably, end—when Erika gets the point, or fades from Yves’s life entirely; when Vincent finds someone he considers worthy of pursuing in actuality; when either of them become interested in dating again. Whatever it is that ends up ending things, Yves knows: what he has with Vincent right now is strictly temporary. 

Perhaps it would be disingenuous to lie to his family about who exactly Vincent is to him. But then again, Yves thinks it isn’t much worse than any other relationship, with all of its ups and downs, all its hopes and uncertainties. It’s not like he can ever guarantee that a relationship is certain to work out, no matter how serious he feels about it in the moment. So is there really any harm to introducing Vincent as his current partner—as someone he feels certain about now, but maybe not always—and to leave it at that?

“It’s not really going to be my day, in the first place,” Yves says. “My relationship status is more of a conversation starter than anything. And even if you go by the timeline we told Erika, we haven’t even been together for a year. I don’t think my family will think much of it other than, like, a small and noncommittal window into what I’ve been up to. So it’s really up to you.”

“I think it would be fun,” Vincent says, “though only if you’re sure about having me there.”

“Great. I’m sure,” Yves says. “Everyone will love you.” He does think it’s true. Something about Vincent tends to have that effect, he thinks.

—

The fact that he and Vincent are traveling together is not exactly a secret.

Vincent agrees it’s best shared on a need-to-know basis—they won’t be the ones to bring it up, but if someone asks about it, they’ll answer honestly. It would be more work, Yves thinks, to have to coordinate lies about this.

But he runs into trouble not even two weeks later.

“So you and Vincent are taking the week off,” Cara says to him carefully, over lunch.

“Yes,” Yves says.

“Any plans?”

“I’m actually flying to France,” Yves tells her, uncertain about whether or not he should mention Vincent’s involvement—if Vincent has talked to Cara about this already, there’s no point in hiding anything, but he should be careful with the information he discloses otherwise. “One of my cousins is getting married there.”

“Oh,” Cara says, all too knowingly. “What a coincidence. Vincent told me he’s also planning on going to France.”

“I… heard,” Yves says, slowly. “He’s told me as much.”

“I didn’t realize France was such a popular tourist destination for march,” Cara says, smiling at him. “I thought most people went over the summer.”

“You know what they say,” Yves says. “France’s beauty knows no seasons.” 

“You should ask Vincent which part of France he’s visiting,” Cara says, with a smirk. “Maybe you guys can book a hotel together.”

Yves is positive he’s being laughed at. “It’s the third largest country in Europe,” he says. “I’m sure the chance of us ending up in the same region is statistically very low.”

“I think Cara knows we’re fake dating,” he laments to Vincent later, in the break room. “I mean, the dating part, not the fake part.”

Vincent blinks at him. “Did you tell her?”

“No,” Yves says. He doesn’t think they’ve been that obvious about it. “I just told her I was going to France. She made some undue assumptions.”

“Oh,” Vincent says. “I told her I was attending a wedding there.”

An impromptu trip to France, over the same week at the tail end of busy season, to attend a wedding. Separately. Yves is starting to understand where Cara's suspicions might’ve come from.

“That would do it,” he says.

Perhaps they really need to coordinate what a need-to-know basis means. Cara is, thankfully, not the type of person to gossip, from what Yves has gathered, but if their coworkers know, that could complicate things. “I don’t think she’ll say anything,” he says. “But I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d assume.”

Vincent seems to consider this. “It’s fine,” he says. “Though it might prove troublesome when we decide to end things.”

“We can figure that out when it happens,” Yves says.  

At some point in the foreseeable future, everything will go back to how it’s always been. Yves had been fine on his own for a long time before he’d met Erika. He’s sure he’ll be prepared for it when it happens.

—

The entire drive to the airport feels surreal.

Mikhail drives them. They leave at the crack of dawn—4am, on the dot. Victoire’s in the passenger seat, dozing off, and Leon, Vincent, and Yves are crammed into the backseat. 

Yves sits in the middle—there’s not much leg room to go around in the first place, but he tries to take up as little space as possible, mostly for Vincent’s sake. He and Leon have been crammed into far smaller cars on far longer road trips.

Leon says, “This is the earliest in the morning I’ve ever third wheeled.”

Victoire, who has her eyes shut, says, “It’s very nice to meet you, Vincent.”

“Likewise,” Vincent says. 

“Yves has told us all about you,” Leon says.

“Oh,” Vincent says, blinking. “What has he said about me?”

“Mostly that you’re super hot,” Leon says. Yves, who is in a perfect position to elbow him, elbows him for that.

“You make me sound so shallow,” Yves says.

“But also that you’re really good at your job,” Leon continues, patting Yves on the leg. “Did you know Yves likes people who he’s slightly intimidated by?”

“I never said that,” Yves says.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Mikhail says. 

“You guys are conspiring against me,” Yves says, and Vincent laughs. 

Leon launches into a series of questions—about how they met, about who asked who out first, about what it’s like at work, about what kinds of things Vincent does for fun.

“No wonder Yves is totally whipped,” Leon says, after Vincent finishes telling a story about how he’d given a presentation at a conference in place of his then-boss, who had—due to unforeseen flight delays—found out last minute that she wouldn’t have been able to make it on time. Yves hasn’t heard this story before, but it doesn’t surprise him that Vincent would be able to pull that sort of thing off, even with such paralyzingly short notice. “You’re exactly his type.”

Just great. If anyone could dig a nice, fitting grave for him over the span of one conversation, Yves thinks, it would be younger brother. 

“I can’t believe he hasn’t invited you over for dinner yet,” Victoire says, her eyes still closed. How much of this conversation she’s actually been awake for, Yves can’t say.

She makes Yves promise that, after their trip to France, Vincent will be over for dinner. (“Sure,” Vincent says. “Just tell me the date in advance. I’ll clear my schedule.” Yves will have to apologize to him after this—for some reason, Vincent has an uncanny talent for ending up invited to half the things Yves is personally involved in.)

Yves is awake enough to hold a conversation, but he finds himself yawning mid-sentence on more than a few occasions. Vincent doesn’t so much as yawn at all over the entirety of the car ride. Yves has no idea if he’s always up this early, or if he’s just naturally immune to tiredness—another signature of his good genetics, next to the fact that he looks like he’s just stepped out of a photoshoot, or the fact that he manages to look good in everything he wears. Some people just win the genetic lottery, Yves supposes.

For some reason, he finds he feels a little more tired than usual. Waking up early is never easy, but usually he’d be distinctly more alert by now. There’s a strange, uncharacteristic heaviness to his limbs—it’s the kind of grogginess he only experiences when he hasn’t been getting enough sleep for awhile.

It’s fine. They have an eight hour flight ahead of them—they’ll be flying into Marseille, and then being driven up to Provence, where the wedding will be taking place. He can catch up on sleep over the flight.

As they’re unloading the suitcases from the back trunk, Vincent says, “Your family’s nice.”

Yves laughs. “I’m relieved they haven’t scared you off yet. Sorry for the… well, interrogation, by the way.”

“I can tell you’re close to them,” Vincent says, a little more quietly.

When Yves looks over, something about Vincent’s smile looks almost wistful. Yves wonders, briefly, how well Vincent has kept up with his own family. If he’d ever been packed into the backseat of a small car, back when he’d lived in Korea; if over some long road trip, he’d ever had to come up with increasingly inventive ways to pass the time. If his relatives ever teased him, then, about the crushes he’d had when he was younger, or anything else. If the ocean that was suddenly between them came with another, less tangible kind of distance, the kind that even phone calls and international flights can never quite bridge.

Yves doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know how he’d go about asking if he wanted to know. How is it that sometimes, he feels like he knows so much about Vincent, but other times, he feels like he knows almost nothing at all?

—

Aimee has booked him a seat next to Vincent. 

They’re a few rows away from the others—I wanted to seat everyone together, Aimee had texted him a few weeks back, but when I was booking Vincent’s ticket, the seats up front were all sold out, so I just moved you so you’d be sitting next to him. 

Now, he watches as Vincent pushes his briefcase gingerly into the overhead compartment.

“You must not be new to flying,” he says.

Vincent nods. “I’m not.”

“Eight more hours,” Yves says, taking the middle seat so that Vincent doesn’t have to. “It’ll be over in no time, especially if you take a nap.”

“I have some work to get done,” Vincent says. “Only after the plane takes off, though.”

Right—no electronics larger than a cell phone until they’re 30,000 feet in the air. “I thought this was supposed to be your week off.”

“It is,” Vincent says. “I just want to make sure everything’s still in one piece by the time I get back.”

Yves has never quite been comfortable on planes. It’s not that he’s afraid of flying, or that the turbulence bothers him—it’s more just the cramped space, the noise, the anticipation, the discomfort—all of it compounds. It’s usually difficult to get to sleep, but he’s so tired right now that maybe this flight will be an exception.

There’s just one problem: whoever is in charge of the air conditioning in the airplane cabin really hates him. Compared to Provence, New York’s climate is generally more extreme—colder in the winters, hotter in the summers—so all he has on him right now is a thin jacket. It’d be perfectly reasonable attire in most situations, except for the fact that this airplane in particular is unusually frigid. It’s definitely cold enough to be distinctly uncomfortable, especially considering that he’s just sitting in place. Yves crosses his arms, suppressing a shiver.

“Do you think Aimee will be convinced?” Vincent asks.

“Convinced?”

“That we’re together.”

“I’m sure she has better things to do than play detective over the state of my relationships,” Yves says, with a laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

“It’s why you invited me,” Vincent says, “is it not?”

“Pardon?”

“To show the rest of your family that you’re not still hung up over Erika.”

“I invited you for a lot of reasons,” Yves says. “For one, you’re good company.”

“So are all your friends.”

“I thought we could both use a week off,” Yves adds. “It’s France, in the springtime. What could be better?”

Vincent says, “I need you to tell me what to do.”

“What?”

“Your cousin paid for my flight,” he lists, counting off his fingers. “Your family is paying for the hotel. Your best friend drove me to the airport.” He says these things as if he’s listing off all the ways in which he’s indebted to them. “It’d be easiest for both of us if you told me how to make a good impression. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

Yves blinks. “I don’t think you’d need my help to make a good impression.”

“You could’ve taken anyone with you, but you’re taking me,” Vincent presses. “There has to be something you need me for.”

If there was nothing, you wouldn’t have invited me. The sentiment hangs between them, unspoken. But Yves can see it in Vincent’s expression. 

“My favorite cousin is getting married,” Yves says, fervently. “To her fiancee—who is also super cool, by the way. My whole family is going to be there. Do you think I’d choose to endure an eight hour plane ride sitting next to someone I didn’t like?”

“Maybe,” Vincent says.

Yves shakes his head. “It’s true that my family wants to meet you. But if I didn’t want you to come to France with me, I could’ve come up with an excuse.”

He twists around in his seat so that he’s facing Vincent directly. Narrowly resists the urge to reach out and grab Vincent’s hand. “I like spending time with you. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t. You don’t have to do anything out of the ordinary—if you have fun on this trip, that’s more than enough.”

Vincent stares back at him, his eyes wide. 

Yves has a feeling he’s said too much. It isn’t Vincent’s fault for assuming this is all just for show, considering everything that’s come before. Part of it is, but another part of him just really wants Vincent to have fun—to take in the sights at the gorgeous venue Aimee’s sent him pictures of, to have a week off in one of the most picturesque countrysides in the world (Yves may be slightly biased, but still) and not have to think too hard about impressing everyone. 

“Is that… okay with you?” Yves asks.

“Yes,” Vincent says. “It’s just unexpected.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sorry if I misled you, or anything.”

“You didn’t.” This time, Vincent really does smile—a sly, quicksilver thing. “For the record, I am very excited to go to your cousin’s wedding.”

“Thank god,” Yves says. “That’s good. I was beginning to think I was holding you hostage.”

He leans back into his seat, suppressing another shiver. Something about the changing pressure in the airplane cabin is making his head start to ache. It’s probably the elevation. Perhaps he should try to sleep just so that he doesn’t have to sit for eight hours with a headache brewing.

He shuts his eyes and tries. It’s no use. He’s tired, and the cabin is quiet enough, but it’s too cold to get to sleep—it feels impossible to get comfortable like this.

So he picks up a novel he’d been meaning to get to—something suspenseful, to offset the monotony of the flight.

When the seatbelt sign flickers off, Vincent unclips his seatbelt so that he can retrieve his briefcase from one of the overhead compartments, and spends the next half hour paging through multiple documents and leaving notes in the margins at a dizzying pace. Yves slinks down lower into his seat, trying hard not to shiver. 

“Is it just me, or is it kind of cold in here?” 

Vincent frowns at him in a concerned way that seems to suggest that it really is just him. Then again, Vincent is unfazed by New York’s cold winters, so Yves isn’t sure he’s the best point of reference.

“Do you need my jacket?” he asks.

“No,” Yves says quickly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “If you’re certain.”

He turns his attention back to the screen, and Yves resigns himself to reading—or, more accurately, trying and failing to read. It’s mercilessly cold, and his head hurts enough to make focusing on any one thing an uncomfortable task. He gets through another couple chapters, finds himself rereading the same passage over and over again, and—finally, defeated—dog-ears the page and slides the book into the pocket attached to the seat in front of him.

The next time the flight attendants come around, Vincent says something to one of them Yves can’t quite make out. Yves asks for orange juice—it’s not supposed to be symbolic, or anything, but on the off-chance that this headache ends up being a precursor to something more unpleasant, he thinks it might be wise.

The flight attendant pours him the orange juice he’s asked for—no ice (right now, something ice cold is the last thing he needs)—and sets it down on the tray table in front of him. Yves stares down at it, blinking. He hasn’t eaten all day, but strangely, he doesn’t have much of an appetite.

He doesn’t register the flight attendant from before—the one Vincent talked to—is back until he hears Vincent’s quiet “thanks” to his left.

Something brushes against his arm.

He looks up. It’s one of those travel blankets they sometimes carry, neatly folded, though this flight hadn’t given them out to everyone at the start. They must be reserved—given only upon request, maybe. 

“You said you were cold,” Vincent—who’s holding out the blanket for him—says, by way of explanation.

Yves blinks at him. He’s about to reassure Vincent, instinctively, that it’s not that cold—that he would’ve been fine without the blanket, that Vincent didn’t have to go out of his way to ask for one.

But his head hurts. He hasn’t been warm all flight. To say that the blanket is a relief would be a massive understatement.

“Thanks,” he says, taking it. “This is perfect. I won’t be cold with this.”

He ends up wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, pulling it tightly around him—like a cloak, or like the jacket that he might have brought with him if he’d had the foresight to anticipate feeling this cold on a commercial flight.

It’s nice. He’s still a little cold, with the blanket, but it’s enough to keep him from openly shivering.

He should really try to get some sleep, he thinks. It’s going to be evening in France when they land. A seat away from him, the window shutters are pulled up, but he can see, from the crevices around the window, that it’s light out.

“I’m going to try to nap,” he tells Vincent. “But wake me up if I need anything—elbow me if you have to. I’m not usually a heavy sleeper.”

“Okay,” Vincent says. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“You can wake me whenever,” Yves says, muffling a yawn into his hand. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent smiles at him, the kind of smile that implies he thinks he’s working exactly as hard as he should be. “No promises.”

It’s not easy to get to sleep, despite his exhaustion. He lays there for a while, his eyes shut—it’s certainly warmer with the blanket, but for some reason, he feels strangely restless. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of being here, with his family, with Vincent—on the way to see one of the most important people in his life get married. Maybe it’s the cup of black coffee he’d downed this morning to be awake enough to help Mikhail navigate and, subsequently, awake enough to actually be useful at the airport.

In the end, he falls asleep to the static hum of the aircraft, to the sound of Vincent hammering away at his keyboard next to him, incessant and comforting.

—

Yves wakes to someone tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m up.”

“A ‘light sleeper,’ you said,” Vincent says. “We just landed.”

Yves says, “I’m wide awake.” The yawn that he hides behind one hand is apparently not subtle enough, because when Vincent looks away from him in favor of staring straight ahead, it looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

Vincent’s stowed away his laptop already—Yves hopes that’s a sign that he’s done with work for the duration of this trip, but more likely he just had to put it away for landing.

“How was the flight for you?” Yves says.

Vincent looks at him. “Uneventful,” he says, at last.

“Not enthralled by all the financial records you had to go through?”

“They were very enthralling. How was your nap?”

“Good,” Yves says, even though he doesn’t feel particularly rested. He’s just groggy, probably, and the headache is just as bad as it was, if not worse. He’s sure once he gets off the plane and gets some fresh air, he’ll feel much better. “I probably needed it.” His breath hitches, unexpectedly, he turns to the side, raising his arm to his face to shield the oncoming—

“hH-’IZscHH’iew!” 

The sneeze is loud, embarrassingly, and it scrapes unpleasantly against his throat, which feels… off.

“Bless you,” Vincent says, frowning. He looks more concerned than he has any right to be.

Yves flashes Vincent a distracted smile. “Thanks.”

Everything—from the moment they step off the plane—is exhaustingly hectic. 

The hotel in Provence is more than an hour away from the airport they’ve landed at. They have a bus to catch, which means that after they regroup with the others, it’s international customs, baggage claim, and then they’re headed, maneuvering multiple suitcases each, onto the bus. He sits next to Vincent, though on the aisle side, so that he can lean over and interject whenever Leon and Victoire say something that’s worth commenting on.

Other than that, he talks with Vincent, mostly—about Aimee, about how she’s been in his life for longer than he’s known how to write his name, back when his parents would take him back to France once or twice a year. (“She was practically an older sister to me,” he says, “except we never fought,” to which Vincent says, “You make it sound like not getting along is a requirement to be siblings,” to which Yves says, “It definitely is.”)

His parents flew into France yesterday, so they should be settled in already—they’ll catch up with them at the hotel tonight, if it’s not too late. He probably won’t see Aimee and Genevieve until tomorrow morning, at breakfast—and even then, that depends on how busy they are with the various wedding preparations Aimee’s been telling him about.

The roads nearing the hotel are uneven and winding. Halfway through the drive, Yves registers, faintly, that he isn’t really feeling any better from before. His head is still hurting from the flight, and when he swallows, he finds his throat feels perhaps the slightest bit sore.

He’s cold, too, in the sort of uncomfortable, persistent way that’s difficult to alleviate, even with extra layers or with a warm drink. He’s starting to suspect that maybe the airplane cabin hadn’t been the problem after all.

None of that is particularly visible to any of the others—that is, until he finds himself tensing up halfway through a sentence, burying his head into the crook of his elbow as his eyes squeeze shut—

“God, sorry, I— hh-! hHehh’iiZZSCHh’iiEW!”

“Bless you,” Vincent, Victoire, and Leon say to him, all at once.

“You’d better not be getting sick,” Leon says, turning to him, with the sort of tone that implies that he’s joking. “That would really be the worst timing.”

“I’m not,” Yves says, swallowing against the soreness in his throat. “I promise.” Or, perhaps more accurately—he can’t be.

It will be the perfect wedding, he thinks. Aimee has planned it out meticulously, and she’s one of the most thorough people he knows. The weather forecast says this week will be sunny and temperate. He’s here, in France. Tomorrow, he’ll be surrounded by his extended family, and in the afternoon he and Vincent will head off to the welcome party, and he’ll get to give Aimee the gifts he’s gotten for her and introduce Vincent to everyone formally. Everything will go as planned—the welcome party, the wedding rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, and on Saturday, the wedding and the vows.

It will be perfect, because it has to be. Yves will be present, and attentive, and he’ll give the speech he has prepared at Aimee’s wedding, and they’ll all remember this week fondly. Even considering the small, almost negligible chance that he’s coming down with something, there are more important things he has to worry about right now, which is to say: Yves is going to do this right.

He’s going to make sure of it. 

[ Part 2 ]

[utilitycaster]

So to answer why I went with Treviso instead of Minrathous: I went in knowing the following.

You must choose to save either Minrathous or Treviso

This will cause either Neve or Lucanis, depending on your choice, to become upset with you and leave the group for a while, and when they return they will be harder to please and will not use their healing abilities anymore.

Romancing Lucanis is permanently blocked if you save Minrathous, but romancing Neve is NOT blocked if you save Treviso, though it’s harder

If you are a Crow or Shadow Dragon and save the other city the faction and the character will be particularly angry.

Lucanis and Neve will, if you don’t romance either of them, enter a relationship with each other, which intrigued me.

I also had read Tevinter Nights (has Neve and Lucanis stories in it) and listened to Vows and Vengeance so I had like, an outline of them as people, and I was aware of Spite as a concept.

Anyway. You see both Minrathous and Treviso before the attack, and at the time I did prefer Treviso (Minrathous city of fucking ladders) though I liked both. Because I knew Lucanis was far more broken up about the loss of Treviso than Neve would be of Dock Town, I had already decided on Treviso. I also do find Lucanis's argument more compelling, ie, Treviso will fall without help whereas Dock Town has people to fight.

I also, despite some things I've said in the past, don't dislike angst provided it comes with real tragedy as well, and so on some level it was very much a situation of "oh, I'm finding Neve EVEN MORE COMPELLING than originally stated, which was very? let me put her through the wringer." Like, again, hardened Neve is much less brittle - she doesn't break like Lucanis apparently does, she just grows colder, and she feels, for a long while, more justified in her cynicism. (I also think that women in fiction are increasingly allowed to explore anger or insecurity or self-loathing- and Harding and Bellara's stories are both very much about those - but rarely are women allowed to be both heroic and bitter. Again, I joke about all those plucky gingers with swords from my childhood and how formative they were, and they were! But a lot of the uglier emotions like bitterness and cynicism are still frequently not granted to heroic female characters, and letting Neve immerse herself fully in that for a while feels very refreshing.

As for specifically why it makes a better story, just to move this from the post where I initially mentioned it, I think it's a much more satisfying story for Neve to initially have her worst fears/beliefs proven (you can only rely on yourself, people will let you down, your work will never matter) and then slowly and patiently disproven. I think her notable softening after you work for her trust again hits better if you had lost it. Whereas for Lucanis it never really comes back (also, I cannot stress enough how good Inner Demons is; I believe the corresponding Neve quest you lose with the choice is The Soul of A City and I can't speak to it but Inner Demons is truly incredible).

I'll also note, as I spent more time in Dock Town post-dragon I fell in love with it. The influences are heavily Black Sea region, which has been a longtime personal interest (architecture and vibe is somewhat Istanbul; Neve mentions a Georgian dish, khachapuri) and it also kind of reminds me through the detective story elements and the broad region of The City and the City by China Mieville, a novel I love dearly which takes place in a fictional pair of overlapping cities that are vaguely Black Sea/Balkans coded. But also it's taken a heavy hit but it's nowhere near as bad, from what I understand, as blighted Treviso - Minrathous takes a heavy hit but the result is Venatori crackdown on the Shadow Dragons and increased hold on the city whereas Treviso just kind of collapses. It's much more interesting to have a devastating setback but not hopelessness, and the vibe of post-dragon Dock Town is fascinating (and, to be honest, kind of a big mood). Also the Viper trying to take down as many Venatori as he can before the Blight gets him is fucking metal and a great Mercer role in a game with three great Mercer roles.

So yeah, hard to compare since I've only seen one option and I'm mid-game, but so far the narrative of saving Treviso in terms of the stories of the cities, factions, and characters involved feels much more satisfying.

[wetcatspellcaster]

Sorry this isn't related to the current ask game, but as a fellow pmdd sufferer do you have any tips/advice for getting through the bad days? It's currently beating me with a sledgehammer.

And congratulations on graduating!

bro/beloved anon:

asks that are not to do with an ask game are always welcome!

I'm so sorry, but I am the woman who is singularly ruining women's health, because the contraceptive pill fixed me.

I did not cope very well at all with my PMDD, which is why I'm now medicated. But I did think through the things that helped me before I got on the pill, and the things that are helping me with my current situation. unfortunately that means it all got very long and personal, so I've put it below the cut for everyone involved.

so my honest advice is as follows:

if things are becoming too difficult, do consider medication as an option! I was scared away from antidepressants because of my really bad reaction to certraline, but the pill did in fact fix me, or at least got me functional. obviously there is many nuances to a person and their relationship to medication, and to contraception in particular, so I don't want to tell you what to do. but I'm also aware that we get told our whole lives that period mood swings are 'nothing' and that we should be able to cope with them without help, and that's realllllly not true. my suicidal ideation went away with something as simple as contraception. it was such an 'easy' fix, that I didn't take up immediately when I really could've.

whilst in the thick of it, give yourself grace, because it isn't necessarily you, it's your body, and it's a thing you only have so much control over. I am descended from a family who treats depression as a Fundamentally Bad thing, so whenever I was depressed I also had a mire of guilt, self-flagellation, and criticism to wade through. all that guilt was is just an invention of more sadness. it just means i have twice as much depression to work with. when in reality, i was just in a temporary moodswing, and often had physical proof for why it was happening. if you're angry, let yourself be angry. if you're sad, let yourself be sad - with the caveat/reminder to yourself that what FEELS permanent isn't really, no matter how much your brain lies to you.

my only other thought is to use tracking, for as much as it serves you, and to catalogue the good times as well as the bad. both of these techniques help me to have a physical reminder, for when I get so so so low that I can't see anything but that moment I'm caught in. if youre in a scary country where period tracking is no longer a safe practice, don't make the tracking tied to your cycle. what I am doing for myself right now, is that I have a sticker in my phone calender for days i feel at my worst, and a sticker in my calender for days i feel happy. i'm not PMDD anymore but i am depressed, and so when I get to that point of no return where I'm convinced nothing will ever be good again, I open up my calender and look at the stickers. it proves 1. that the bad bad bad feeling i'm convinced is permanent is temporary, bc it's not like every single day has the 'bad day' sticker, and 2. that there are good days. you don't have to take that approach, but maybe having photos, phone app notes, journal entries, or physical reminders etc of the good things will do the same thing and help contextualise the PMDD as temporary.

In general, I've reached a point in my own current life where things are so bad that I have 2 self talk exercises I *have* to do to cope, which I treat like safeguards. if I get suicidal or have an intrusive thought, I then have to list 3 things I like about myself. and every day, I am listing 5 things I'm grateful for. this is because I have noticed how much my negative inner monologue makes or more often breaks me. so that might not be relevant to your situation, but if you're like me (if you are i'm so very sorry) it might help more generally x