#but ill do my best to queue everything up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aonungyoufuck · 2 years ago

Text

Runaway {Part 14}

Runaway Masterlist

DNI/BYF

Synopsis: It seems all that praying has worked. Everything is alright

Warm. That's what he felt and it was a good type of warmth. It had been so long since he’s felt this way. And it was honestly welcomed.

It was like a nice dream. A nice illusion and yet he knew it was never his to begin with.

He felt your breath, the beat of your heart and then he felt that warmth that was no doubt your babe. Sure he would never be able to feel it the way you do. He would never know the feeling but this was close enough.

He felt you with him and he was almost sure you could feel him too.

He felt you breathe, he felt you dream, felt your babe and felt your heart. But he felt no pain. He felt nothing wrong

So in his thoughts and in his heart he called to you. Awaiting any sign from you that if you were still there. You’d give him something back.

He waited. And waited, counting the seconds as he hoped.

And there it is, there’s that feeling in his heart. You called him. You felt him and you replied.

And he kept calling again, and again. And you kept calling back.

Be still his heart when he wishes to hold and hear you again, Be still his mind as he can only think of you. By the mind of his great desires there you were again.

‘Please awaken with me’

He thinks out loud feeling his heart race.

‘I promise to kiss you as soon as you wake’

‘I promise to always protect you two’

‘I promise to fight for us if you ever are so kind to wake up for me’

‘Please its all i ask’

He got nothing back. But he felt the pang at his heart double. He felt you, felt that aching feeling of loss.

And as he predicted he woke up from his slumber. No longer feeling you. His mother is now staring down at him. Glaring daggers as she hissed at him. “Are you an ignorant boy?”

“Mother” he tried to reason. Both your Queues in her hands.

“I pray for the resilience to not twist a knot in your tail”

“I was doing fine”

“You do not know what she’s ill with! I know she is your mate as are you but”

A stir. The groan and then followed by your voice “Ma Ao’nung”

It felt like he had died. The gentle tune of the beat of your voice. To hear you. To see you stir awake. Both of their attention to you.

You gulped. The dryness in your mouth was unwelcomed. You felt like a ton of rocks had fallen on you before you could even open your eyes.

Ao’nung and Ronal. Both eyes staring deep into your soul.

“Ma Eywa thank you thank you thank you!” You heard Ronal pray and then felt Ao’nung throw himself at you. Making you cough at the roughness.

“Ao’nung! Careful with her. Go quickly Fetch Jakesully”

“But”

“Go!”

He didn’t argue seeing your figure before taking off.

You sat there now staring into her eyes. That same fear you felt a long time ago now in the back of your throat. You looked at her and she at you. Her eyes filled with tears, with a relief only she would know.

“Thank you Ma Eywa” She whispered, wrapping her arms around you.

You were confused. Startled at feeling her gently hug you. “Tsahik?”

“I am beyond words happy as you have awoken child”

“But. I thought”

“Do not. I was..I was wrong” It hurt her pride really. But she’s had years to Admit to it now. “I am so sorry”

Feeling her hug you. It felt. Right but also wrong and then it hit you that you had something in between the two of you. You looked down. Your now very prominent belly showing and it took you a while to remember that you had wanted to tell Ao’nung that you were expecting. You couldn’t help but smile however to know that you hadn’t lost this blessing. Hearing the door to the room open and then being manhandled to the arms of your father and mother.

“Oh Y/n! Oh my sweet child!” your mother said through tears as all she could do was hold you alongside jake. Your eyes looking ahead at your siblings who couldn’t believe it. You opened your arms as best as you could before they all went ahead and came around you to hug you.

“Hey everyone!” You said chuckling as you could only do that. “You all act like i died”

“Just happy to see you baby girl” your father said, making you laugh a little. You couldn’t help it but you let out a purr.

“Don't worry sempul A bullet hadn’t killed me and neither is anything else”

“I dont think this is the time for jokes” You heard Lo’ak say besides you but you couldn’t help but laugh.

Turning to look at the only person in the doorway. Was your mate. Staring at you as if blinking would cause you to disappear. Your tail wagging a little subconsciously as you continued to stare. And it wasn’t long until you two were left alone.

You had been safe, vitals checked out and it was all good though you still had to stay for one more night. Which you didn’t mind.

Face to face. Staring at you, before you opened your arms and let him tackle you. Your arms wrapping around him. Finally together finally full.

His sobs broke your heart and you felt so absolutely horrible for letting him wait for you to wake up. His trembling form now holding onto you and it felt like holding a small child. You continued to shush him. Telling him it was all alright. That it will be okay.

“Ma Y/n! I cant believe you’re really awake”

“I am my love”

“It felts like it has been a lifetime since i seen or heard you. Felt you and it feels likes is some sick dream you have it all come true. No greater pain has known my heart since the day you gone my dearest heart”

Hearing those words again felt so utterly heartbreaking and yet made your heart soar.

“Be still my Ao’nung it’s alright. We are alright”

And you let him cry. Let him continue to sob in your arms as all you could do was reassure him that things would be alright. That things would be okay.

By morning. You were let go. And that left the Question…Where exactly would you be staying? And that was the puzzling problem for the rest of your Family.

You two were mated. No longer kids that had to share a pod with your family. And yes Given other circumstances you would have a pod next to Ao’nung’s family. But being away for so long you wanted something more secluded?

There really was no pod the same distance apart from your parents that was unoccupied. Given that Lo’ak and Ao’nung had to talk about who of them would be okay to take up the role of Olo’eyktan You really didn't have an option on either taking the pod next to the Leaders of the clan. Least not yet.

So there was a big dilemma.

“Ao’nung really We should take that pod. And if Lo’ak does decide to take the role with you agreeing. We can then move”

“Ma Y/n Really its no problem We can probably have a pod closer inland.

“I think your being stubborn”

“I'm stubborn?”

“Oh for. You both are stubborn” Neteyam butt in as he had been hearing this conversation go on for an hour too long. “Look just take the pod. Im sure either way after its decided you two or whoever it is can make a pod how you like it if the conditions are right”

You couldn’t believe how easily Ao’nung settled for that. And now here you are moving a few things from your old home. Well Lo’ak and Neteyam had gone and found it.

It was a little bittersweet to see all the things you had made from scratch. “Im a little Homesick i’ll admit” You said out loud to the rest of the family who was helping organize the place.

“Yeah? What do you miss?” Asked Ao’nung

“I guess i miss the trees? I miss sleeping up near the sky and being able to see the bottom of the lake. Which by the way we never did go see what was in that cave” You admitted moving what you could to make things more homely.

“Oh i guess not”

“It’s alright. Its nice to have you not look like a dried fish”

“Oh gee, Thanks”

Ronal couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. It was nice to hear and see her son again. But it was nice to see this. And in some way it reminded her of her love with Tonowari. Looking at them and your growing bump. She knew everything would be alright.

=============================

Taglist 34/34 : @simp-erformarvelwomen / @luvlykrispy / @yeosxxx / @fanboyluvr / @littlethingsinlife / @eirianna / @elegantkidfansoul / @tsukibaby1 / @adaiasafira / @1-800-not-simping / @reggiesslut / @cmfouatslota77 / @slutforsmut4ever / @zatarias-pandora / @valovesyou / @ashersplaceofwriting / @ghost-lantern / @victorianhorrors / @irlydontknoanymore / @hellok1ttycake / @sweetheartlizzie07 / @audigay / @kiyoloverose / @bogwaterswamp / @guska0 / @thatoneembarrasingmoment / @anxietydrogz /@eywas-heir / @joyfulfxckery / @b0rednb1tchy / @melonami / @totesnothere04 / @calums-betch / @alexizodd

Just One more Chapter Yall! And itll be finished i am sure

#ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #atwow ao'nung #ao'nung #aonung x reader #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung x you #avatar the way of water #atwow #Runaway

224 notes · View notes

the-wip-project · 10 months ago

Text

Bad Brain Days

Today I’m having a bad brain day.

It’s not that my brain is misbehaving. It’s just having a rough time functioning.

You might call it something else, and it has numerous causes, a bad night’s sleep, a flare up of a chronic health condition, medication issues, a short term illness, or simply being overwhelmed with responsibilities.

Whatever the cause, we all have days when our brain doesn’t want to do what it’s supposed to, ie: think.

Which is bad for life in general, and particularly bad for the thinky work of writing.

So what does a committed writer do when faced with a bad brain day?

The first and simplest thing is yield. If your body is telling you to rest, it’s a good idea to heed it.

I don’t advocate for pushing yourself to write every single day. (unless streaks really work well for you, in that case streak on!) It’s especially important if your bad brain days are often caused by feeling overwhelmed.

No doubt you have things you must get done: work, classes, child or elder care, household responsibilities. Things you can’t skip just because you’re not feeling up to it. So do yourself a favor and skip the non-vital tasks, like writing. Just for today.

But perhaps that writing habit thing is starting to catch hold and you’re looking forward to your writing session as something you do for yourself, but sadly your brain just won’t go in the words and ideas direction. What then?

The best thing is to make a list of what you can do. If you have low brain usefulness days frequently, on a good day try coming up with a list of things you can do on slow brain days.

Here’s some ideas to get you started.

1. Read. Skip the social media doom scroll, turn off your devices, and read something on paper. It could be an old favorite that feels comforting, it could be something new and exciting, but either way, focus on what makes the book or story good. We hear a lot about reading critically, and finding fault seems to dominate that. But try reading to admire. Pay attention to what you enjoy, what makes you smile, what makes you feel immersed. Read with the intention of enjoyment.

2. Do something story adjacent. If you like posting about your WIP on socials, find a few good pull quotes and queue them up. Or create a synopsis or pitch to keep on file for whenever someone asks what you’re writing. If you like making visual stuff like mood boards, make one for a scene or character.

3. Feeling up to diving into the work itself? How about updating your outline? Read over what you have written and add whatever changes you’ve made to the outline. It doesn’t have to be complex. Just try making one sentence summaries of each scene. You can do this if you didn’t have an outline to begin with too.

4. Talk to a friend about your writing. Writers need social interaction and if your writing has been consuming a lot of your spare time, just connecting with a friend might be what you need. (and don’t make it all about your writing! Be a good friend!)

5. Make starting tomorrow easier. Do non writing stuff that smooths the way, like tidying up the formatting or layout, creating blank chapters or scenes, or even sketching out a scene without making an attempt to fill in all the blanks.

Finally, don’t make any major decisions about your WIP on a bad brain day. You might do something your regret. Instead make notes on any major cuts or changes that feel needed, and look at them again on a day when you feel good.

And don’t make your writing another burden that makes everything too hard to carry. Tomorrow, when your head is (hopefully) clearer, take the time to assess if your writing is too much. To consider if the goals you’ve set yourself are workable with your current life situation. There’s no shame in dialing things back. If writing 250 words a day is too much, consider reducing it to 200. Or adding in more days off. Or considering a lower pressure project. Writing short fiction instead of tackling The Novel.

Most of all, remember that a solid writing practice is first of all a healthy one. So take care of yourself.

—Maree

Subscribe to my substack to make sure you don't miss a post, chat with me on the WIP Project discord, and tag any posts you make about the challenge with #slomowrino if you want me to see them!

#slowmowrino #bad brain days #writing advice

38 notes · View notes

space-station-collective · 1 year ago

Text

some of the less pretty parts of plurality

we talk a lot on this blog about the funny or nice parts of being plural, but there's also a lot of bad shit that can come with it. it's not all good, just like it's not all bad. it just is! sometimes, seeing posts like this makes us feel a little better, knowing we aren't alone in these struggles and seeing other people who have come through it, so, here's this

this is going to require a lot of me being vulnerable on the internet lmao

everything is going under a cut, and i'm marking applicable TW and CWs here as well as in the tags. i tried to keep it as light as possible (if there's any tags i missed, PLEASE do let me know and i'll add them ASAP /gen)

(this is also quite a long post, under the cut the word count is: 437)

WARNINGS: addiction mentions, physical illness, exotrauma mentions

-) developing an addiction/dependency that everyone has to manage, due to one headmate's actions

-) trying to collectively recover from addiction when not everyone wants to, and some headmates actively working against the progress and goals

-) more specifically, having to maintain a clean streak for everyone, not just one individual. not just yourself. we have an agreement- we stick together with this stuff

-) headmates who actively dislike people we know, and generally collectively like, and having to manage and ignore secondhand emotions towards those people when the headmates in question are around (not to say, ignoring how those headmates feel about people, but moreso not letting the emotions bleed through into our own interactions)

-) panicking because your job directly relates to helping other headmates, and despite your best efforts, things keep getting worse (not directly applicable to me who is writing this -host)

-) having to agree with headmates, who have done nothing wrong, that they can't be around front, because they're symptom holders, and the body is ill enough all the time that we physically can't handle them fronting

-) fighting. constant fighting. i can't think of a day since our syscovery that there hasn't been some sort of fight, argument, breakdown, violence, some sort of incident internally

-) so many headmates with so much exotrauma. some of their triggers have bled into our collective triggers, and holy shit is it hard to explain thost to people who don't understand exomemories, or even who don't know about the system

-) having to watch littles who are far too young for any of this experience this whole ordeal

-) "Atlantis" by Seafret. it's about an extremely different topic, but the lyrics hit home. "i can't save us, my atlantis, we fall. we built this town on shaky ground." because holy fuck, it feels that way sometimes

several of these things are now managed, several are not. being human is a weird, messy, fucked up experience, and when you shove a bunch of consciousnesses into one human body, it gets even more convoluted

whoever you are, whatever reason you might have for reading this: i love you. you are not alone in your struggles. you have support from so many places, and you will get through whatever you're currently experiencing, be it so simple as your favourite pencil breaking, all the way to personal tragedy. you are loved

-the host (he/they), expressing thoughts of the collective

(scheduling this to post outside of the queue because our content is usually much more lighthearted than this and i don't want to take up a spot for that)

#spacestationcollective #sysblr #system #plurality #plural #plural system #osddid #plural community #dissociative system #serious post #addiction mention #addiction #cw addiction mention #cw addiction #tw addiction #tw addiction mention #addiction cw #addiction tw #<- i know thats a lot but i want to be SO thorough for this

46 notes · View notes

thexsanctuaryx · 3 months ago

Text

ʚ♡ɞ I'll Follow You Into the Dark ʚ♡ɞ

{ CHAPTER FIVE }

➳ PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Jake's meeting with the doctor doesn't goes as planned, while Emma's confusion over what's happening continues. The boys likewise continue to worry about leaving her there by herself, and she finally gets to meet Steven. Pairing: { eventual } Original Character { Emma Harper } x Jake Lockley, Emma Harper x Steven Grant, && Emma Harper x Marc Spector Contents: mental hospitals, psychiatric hold, angst { I guess? I don't know what else to call it. }, hurt/comfort-esque vibes, Steven's first appearance Warnings: severe mental illness { psychosis, hallucinations, depression }, main character is actively in psychosis, I've done my best to write it in the least triggering way but there are a lot of heavy themes that will take place in this series, so forewarning. mental hospitals. typical misunderstanding and misinterpretation that comes with psychosis. due to the nature of Emma's psychosis, things are very unhealthily skewed in a religious context. triggering themes related to the aforementioned. Author's Note: I recently finished reading Tear Down My Reason by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction and it inspired me to work on an idea I've been playing with about Emma and the Boys meeting while both in a mental hospital at the same time. I wanted to write a series that would help other people with severe mental illness feel seen and heard as there really AREN'T works out there like this, especially not actually written by people with firsthand experience of things like psychosis. This series is being written with a lot of love and care so I truly hope that it can be cathartic for those who read who might also live with mental illness because you DO matter and your stories DO deserve to be told. Word Count: 1,206 Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sub-aro

The meeting with the doctor doesn’t take long. Jake is quickly informed that he has their records and knows about the DID. Likewise, he tells him not to worry—that his stay won’t be long so long as he’s not a danger to himself upon leaving and follows up with outside support.

This is, of course, not what Jake was hoping to hear.

“I’m not the one who was a danger to myself—that was Marc…” He glowers at the doctor as he gets up to leave.

He's so angry when he gets back to the hallway that he almost forgets to check on Emma, rather, distracted by the damn doctor who is utterly useless.

His eyes snap to the line getting ready to go to dinner and sighing he goes to join the queue that Emma is just coming to the back of.

She brightens as she sees Jake returning, leaving the line to meet him in the middle.

Upon seeing his expression her face falls. “Are you okay?” She asks softly, her face riddled with worry.

Jake, in turn, softens when she speaks, “Yeah, cariño—I’m okay, nothing I can’t handle…”

Of course, this gets just as confused as everything else about this place. Emma takes it to mean that the battle was difficult but that he prevailed. This floods her with relief.

“Why do you think they have us eat if we’re—ya know?” She asks, changing the subject.

“To keep up our strength, you can’t heal if you’re running on empty…”

Emma, of course takes this to mean healing to get to Heaven.

And Jake, can just see her mind working over it. “I promise you’re alive, sweet one…I know that’s confusing right now…”

“But—”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, knowing that this isn’t exactly the place to trust others, but wanting her to know she can trust him.

Emma doesn’t hesitate, immediately nodding. “Yes…”

“Good.” He encourages with a gentle smile. “Then believe me—you will get better and you will leave this place…”

She just can’t wrap her mind around it, even as he nods toward the line of patients slowly filing out for the cafeteria.

She turns to walk with him, her mind such a mess of contradictions and beliefs that overlap. Everything has a significance and things that shouldn’t be possible are commonplace.

She wonders if it’ll ever make sense, but then, it simultaneously already does for her.

Jake wants so badly to reach for her hand but knows he shouldn’t. He can tell she’s lost in thought again the whole way there and even after they get their trays.

She gets so lost, in fact, that she forgets to tell the server what she wants. Or so he thinks until she speaks.

“I don’t want the meat…”

“Do you have a vegetarian meal plan?” The cook asks blandly.

“No?”

“Well then, this is what you’re having.”

Emma frowns, “but I can’t eat it…”

“Come on, you’re holding up the line.”

She asks for extra of the sides even though she truthfully doesn’t feel like she’s got an appetite at all.

As she and Jake find a table he scowls lightly at her.

“I didn’t know you were a vegetarian…”

“I’m not—but it looked like if I ate it I’d be sick…”

As another patient passes her and hears, she scoffs, “Sounds like you’re pregnant.”

Emma frowns again, her mind rushing through thoughts again. “But I’m not…”

Her thoughts work over the idea, thinking of how she could be pregnant without having been with anyone.

Jake glares at the woman before turning to Emma, “Ignore her…” He reassures her.

“I’m not hungry…” She grumbles, pushing her tray away.

He sighs heavily, feeling like he could take better care of her than this damn hospital and every employee in it put together.

“Maybe just drink your milk?”

Emma thinks on what she knows of pregnancy, her mind getting confused thinking maybe Jake thinks the other woman was right.

“I’m not pregnant…” she repeats, pausing. “Am I?”

Suddenly, Jake worries, doubting she’s actually pregnant but that she’s that lost in her mind.

“I know you’re not—but the milk will at least give you some protein…” He tries.

Emma sighs, “okay…”

Taking a page out of Marc’s book, Jake opens his own carton, taking a long gulp out of it and hoping she’ll follow suit.

He can see her hands shaking as she reaches for hers, struggling to get it open.

He reaches patiently to help her with it before handing it back.

Emma thanks him softly and takes a drink from it, scrunching up her nose as she swallows it.

“We can’t leave her here by herself…” He mumbles out the side of his mouth as she gets distracted playing with her food aimlessly.

‘I know,’ Marc is the first to reply.

‘I’m not sure what we can do—‘side from giving ‘er our number…’ Steven adds.

Like a lightbulb of his own, Jake turns to the side, “That might be it, Steven…”

Emma perks up, already tuned in, “do I get to meet him soon?”

‘Is it strange I’m a bit nervous to meet her? Not like anxious, ‘ve course, not like scared, but y’know—nervous?’ Steven rambles quietly.

Jake grins lightly, giving Emma’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Maybe after dinner—if you eat a couple bites of your vegetables…”

It feels like a dirty trick, but it’s the only way he can think to get her to eat anything.

Immediately, Emma rushes to take a big mouthful, making a face as she chews but swallowing nonetheless. And then she goes for another.

‘Does she really want t’ meet me that badly?’ Steven asks anxiously in the headspace.

‘Apparently so…’ Marc replies.

‘Oh god, I hope I don’t let ‘er down…’

Emma clears all of her vegetables and half her mashed potatoes before stopping.

Jake can’t help but watch warmly, feeling like this might be up there with some of his greatest accomplishments.

He eats some of his own tray before they’re called to head back, admittedly not wanting to relinquish control of the body to Steven.

When they get back everyone seems to head toward the day room to watch TV before the final group of the day.

Jake hangs back, Emma likewise following his lead.

She watches him anxiously, playing with her fingers.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Jake asks, sneaking a soft touch to her face.

Emma nods quickly, watching in awe as he stiffens, his face contorting and then settling.

When Steven comes forward, he offers her the softest smile, “hello, love…”

Emma immediately launches herself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug causing a gust of breath to punch out of him.

As if remembering what Marc said about not being supposed to do that she retreats, biting her lip nervously.

“Hi, Steven…” She mumbles quietly.

“Oh, bollocks…” He breathes. “Don’t think you’re meant to fall in love in these places…”

Emma’s eyes only shy away, rolling her lips in causing her dimples to dip into her cheeks.

‘Think we’re in trouble, boys…’ Jake speaks once more.

‘I hate to say it—but you might be right…’ Marc agrees.

6 notes · View notes

celosiaa · 1 year ago

Text

IV/Cannula

hehe this is for day 1 of mediwhumpmay, which I am now posting in October

tw: emeto, hospital setting

“Hey, there you are. Keep those eyes open for me, Blackwood.”

“Mmm…wh?”

Everything feels so, so heavy—god, he can barely see. His eyes must drift closed again, because before he knows it, the voice is back, this time pinching the skin on the inside of his arm.

“Eyes open, Martin, come on.” Pinching again.

Gauging his responsiveness, he knows. The thought floats above the whirling pool of all the others. His eyes flutter open, an effort to reassure the voice he slowly comes to recognize as the voice of his junior partner, Ben.

“Ff…fuck,” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut as soon as he opens them. The vertigo was too much to bear—and with an awful rising feeling in his gut, he curls further onto his side and vomits.

The effort of this exhausts him, and he must lose time, for the next thing he is aware of is the earth rumbling beneath him. He prepares mentally for the end of the world, again—but upon fluttering his eyes open again, he discovers that the ambulance had just hit a bump in the road.

Ambulance. I’m at…work.

He snaps his eyes open again at the thought, attempting to sit up, only to find himself strapped into something.

The stretcher.

“Lie back, Martin, just relax—“

Darkness.

—

Jon hates the hospital. Hates it.

He would do just about anything to avoid coming here, especially to A&E. The crowding, the noise, the smell of antiseptic…the desperation of all the people waiting for hours upon hours to be seen.

He doesn’t understand how Martin can cope with this every day.

It’s already been a long walk from the train station, and Jon’s heart is pounding—from this as well as the call that he’d received from Ben, telling him that his husband collapsed on the job and is being cared for here.

Jon knew he shouldn’t have gone into work that day. And he’d told him as much, many times. Martin had been ill over the holidays, but due to the nature of his work, had needed to go in anyway. Especially with the increased number of accidents, injuries, and illnesses that tend to make themselves known during this season. Added to that, a bug had been working its way through their ranks, taking down one medic after the next. Martin had assured Jon that he felt alright enough to cover for his indisposed coworkers, but…

Obviously, that had not been the case.

With a sigh, Jon leans a little heavier upon his cane, still in the triage queue. He needs to calm down, not let this frustration get the better of him. As much as an “I told you so” might be warranted here…god knows Martin had spared him many such conversations that Jon himself had certainly deserved.

At last, the person behind the desk waves him forward.

“I’m here to see my husband, please.”

“Name?”

“Martin Blackwood-Sims. I was told he’s in bay thirty-three.”

“Hmm…” They click around on their computer a few times before looking back up at him. “Looks like he’s on respiratory precautions. Please take a mask to protect yourself.”

Jon sighs, the anger bubbling up in his chest again.

I told you, Martin. I told you.

Not helpful.

He swallows it the best that he can, fitting the loops of the mask over his ears before following the nurse through the double doors.

“Straight back this way, and you should see him,” the nurse says, and turns back to their post.

Jon hadn’t needed the directions. From where he entered, he saw him—his husband, pale faced, propped up on several pillows and getting an IV placed.

Be calm. Breathe. Breathe.

Jon hates this; god he hates it here—and he’s absolutely livid that Martin never listens to him, and now look where it’s gotten him. Now they both have to be here, with all the people and the noise and the memories—

He feels suddenly quite weightless in the relentless onslaught of emotions, and wishes desperately for somewhere to sit. Not by Martin, not quite yet. Everything is all tangled up in itself, in the past, in the fear of this place. And his husband needs him calm. Calm and supportive, just as Martin has done so many times for him.

Braced against the wall of the corridor and his cane, Jon allows his eyes to fall closed, to focus on his breath for a moment. It’s just this breath. And the next. And the next.

Bless Martin for teaching him this technique.

When he opens his eyes, he feels a gentle wave of calm. Not perfect, but it will get him through and allow him to be there for Martin, who is now alone in his bay, eyes closed and exhausted.

That is, until they reopen and alight on Jon, walking toward him. Immediately, Martin’s hands reach up to cover his face—the tips of his ears reddening with shame, even as the rest of him retains that unnerving pallor.

“Oh God, Jon, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Martin…”

“I swear I didn’t mean to—to cause such a fuss, I didn’t—“

”Martin,” Jon pleads, more forcefully this. Time as he eyes his oxygen saturation on the monitor. “Breathe, habibi. You’re alright.”

As the monitor starts to alarm, Martin seems to realize that he’s gasping for air—and that sets him into a coughing fit, worse even than he’d been showing at home. Jon’s stomach drops just listening. And even more so when a nurse comes in to silence the alarm, reaching for the plastic tubing of the nasal cannula that Jon knows all too well.

“That’s quite the nasty cough there, Mr. Blackwood.”

Jon is hit with another sudden wave of irritation—obviously, its a bad cough, obviously, that’s why he’s in the damn A&E.

He needs to calm down before he snaps at someone and makes the whole damned situation even worse.

“Sorry,” Martin croaks, the fit ending. “I’m alright, I—sorry.”

“No need to apologize love. Just keep that oxygen on, alright?”

Saying this, the nurse leaves, and Martin sinks further into his bed, exhausted. Jon’s heart twinges painfully, and he extends his hand to Martin’s—and just as he’d hoped, Martin opens his eyes at the contact, smile weary but warm as he takes his hand in turn.

“What happened, Martin?” Jon asks, desperately. “Ben called me, you know. Told me you collapsed.”

“Oh no—no, love, I’m alright, really, I’m okay. Just took a bit of a tumble.”

Martin gives him another embarrassed smile, trying to sit up straighter, and Jon can’t take it anymore.

“If that’s what you want to call it, fine,” he snaps.

He regrets it immediately. Martin’s face is stricken, smile disappearing, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry, Jon—“

“No, Martin, I—“

“Are you okay?”

Martin leans closer, putting his other hand over Jon’s, the one with the IV. Still so pale, clammy. And concerned. Martin is worrying over him, even here while he’s the one in the hospital bed.

Jon takes a deeper breath than he has since he received the phone call, closing his eyes as Martin gently squeezes his hand between both of his own.

Oh, Martin.

“Thank you,” says Martin softly, “for being here with me, habibi. I know this is…a difficult place for you to be. So thank you.”

That is too much, far too much.

“Don’t thank me,” Jon chokes around a lump in his throat he can’t quite swallow. “Don’t. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped, it’s just...”

“Memories.”

“Yes.”

Martin squeezes his hand again, and Jon opens his eyes. Still there, still Martin, despite everything. Jon moves closer, using his free hand to brush Martin’s sweat soaked hair back from his forehead.

“I’m here for you, habibi. I’m sorry.”

“And I’m here for you,” Martin replies earnestly, breaking off momentarily to muffle a chest-rattling cough into his elbow. “We can…we can b—ha, both...”

“Shh, hush now,” Jon whispers lowly, reaching for the call light on Martin’s bed.

“We…we’ve got…each other,” Martin pants, letting Jon anxiously fuss over his blankets and his nasal cannula.

“I know, darling.” He rests a gentle hand on Martin’s laboring chest, a reminder that he’s here, he’s here.

“I know.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonmartin #my writing #in case anyone doesn't know my Jon has POTS #and is also Jordanian #hence the “habibi”#and martin is a paramedic

33 notes · View notes

elsewhereuniversity · 2 years ago

Note

Do you answer every question? Or are there some you just delete bc it doesn't quite fit the lore/vibe/idk?

I do not. I tried to, way back at the beginning! There was a brief period of time where I could at least get my inbox down to under ~100! A very brief period of time. A few days, max. I don’t believe it’s dipped below 2k in several years now. I'm not sure it would be possible to answer everything, just with regards to volume alone.

Honestly, though, what convinced me it wasn't a good idea even if it was possible was one ask a few weeks in suggesting all non-binary people were fae, eg. nonhuman. I genuinely believe it was well-intentioned, just short-sighted about the implications. But it opened my eyes as to why publishing every single ask I ever received wasn't a good or responsible idea. I'm certainly not perfect, and this entire blog has been a learning process, but I do want this to be a world that feels welcoming to engage with. That means, by necessity, exercising some discernment, and doing my best not publish asks that could be hurtful. I'm also not comfortable answering asks along the lines of 'what do the fae think of this mental illness/disability/trauma'; I'm jsut not equipped to do that kind of question justice, especially not as a blanket statement about the world.

In general, and on a lighter note, I ask that asks/submissions be at least vaguely related to elsewhere u and/or the fae. For the most part everyone's really good about that, and I think I'm fairly easygoing with what that actually entails. But there are a few things, like literally just straight up WOTC DnD, or demonology, or lore about OC religious pantheons, which I don't care to incorporate into the world. And unfortunately most of the time I get to asks about the latest tumblr meme du jour, it's cold in the ground - something like 'help the plinko horse is in the library what do???' is not going to be popping out of the queue in 2024.

(The website itself also poses some problems, which shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone reading this on said website. One quirk of the inbox at this capacity is that sometimes asks just. Simply do not show up, at random. Occasionally I’ll refresh the inbox and get, for example, a new ask four down from the top which simply was not there the last time I looked at the five newest asks. That's always exciting.)

#technicalities #this is long whoops

67 notes · View notes

ignoremeimnothere · 2 years ago

Note

Inspired by family's own bout of illness with our preschooler and my husband massively stepping it up 😅 could you write something with dad!matty taking care of his young daughter while the whole family is down with the flu? My entire house was sick last week and even though my husband felt like crap he took care of EVERYTHING for me and it just makes my heart flutter

Thank you Anonymous for my first ever request! Sorry it took so long and sorry its a bit shit, I'm not happy with how it turned out but wanted to get something written for you sooner rather than later. Hopefully its shit because of the funk I've been in, I'll possibly re-visit this one down the line but I hope you like it!

A (Kind of) Perfect Morning

You’d got it first. It had spread around work like wildfire. Despite your best attempts at avoiding it, You were one of the last to get a round in. You did not enjoy being ill at all. Any attempts at avoiding your two babies were futile. You’d wake up with a tiny foot sticking in your ribs and your husband's legs entwined with yours. Needless to say by the weekend all three of you were down with the Flu.

You felt so guilty. Your two year old was teary and clingy. Last night had been a long slog of waking up to coughing fits and arguing over medicine.

The sun shining through the curtains made you wince. Your head throbbed and your throat burned. Another coughing fit caught your attention.

“Oh ba-” You cleared your throat but your voice was gone. You huffed, accepting the hug from your baby before attempting to get up.

“Hey” You felt a hand guide you back down. “I’ll get it”.

You looked at Matty, his eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were flushed. Instinctively you put your hand to his forehead, before you could comment he put his hand to yours. Your frown was challenged by his smile. He planted a kiss on your head before repeating “I’ll get it”.

You got more comfortable moving your daughter to the side of you, your body heat doing nothing to help each other's fever. You reached over to your bedside cabinet looking for your glass of water but it was completely empty. As if on queue, your husband reappeared with various medicines, two bottles of water and one of your daughters storybooks.

“C’mere peanut” Your daughter got up again on the return of her dad, she stretched her arms out for him, burying her face into his neck as soon as she was in his arms. You got to work measuring out some of her medicine while Matty closed the curtains fully. He sat on the side of the bed, repositioning the curly haired girl onto his lap. Your daughter started to whine again when she saw the spoonful of Calpol. He kissed her head a few times before starting the bargaining process, he’d been the one to do it most of last night too.

“Just until you feel better. I’ve got your squash ready and we can read however many stories your little heart desires. All you need to do it take this”

“Nooo” Tears began to pool her eyes again.

“Yes c’mon have some for daddy and then we can snuggle up with mummy” Matty took the spoon from you, after a little more nagging he found success, swapping the spoon with her water bottle in record time. He praised her, before swapping her for the medicine bottle in your hand. You worked on getting her comfortable again, coaxing her into drinking a bit more before you were met with a spoonful of the mixture.

“Open up baby” Matty grinned, feeding you the mixture. You playfully rolled your eyes beginning to tell him to sod off but again, your voice failed you. You washed down the medicine with some water attempting yet again to speak, ordering Matty to get back into bed.

“Babe I mean this in the nicest way but you need to shut up” You dropped your jaw in a joking way before his hand guided your chin back and his lips met yours. “I’d die if I never got to hear your voice again”

He poured himself some medicine before disappearing into the bathroom, you heard the tap run as he blew his nose. Re-appearing with two wet flannels, he put one over your forehead before trying to rest the other over your daughter’s.

“Story time daddy?” She turned, knocking the flannel off completely wanting to get closer to her dad again.

“As promised, it’s no Burroughs but I guess the tiger who came to tea will have to do ehh?”

Matty wrapped his arm around you before scooting closer, he checked the flannel making sure it was covering your head before picking up his daughters for the third time, giving up he placed it on the back of her neck as she sprawled out on his chest.

He cleared his throat to begin the story but this caused him to have the coughing fit he had obviously been trying to conceal all morning. You tried to get up to assist him but he kept you in his arms. “I’m alright, I’m alright” He spluttered a few more times before eventually stopping.

“The Tiger Who Came To Tea” Matty put on his ‘children’s tv presenter’ voice which was surprisingly soothing. You closed your eyes, succumbing to the comfort of this moment.

Despite wishing you were all well, it made your heart swell to have these kinds of mornings where the three of you could laze around. They did not happen as often as you wish they could, making them all the more important. You smiled, wishing you could stay in this moment forever. Eventually Matty’s voice grew softer, and your eyes grew heavier, the story lulling you into another sleep.

#matty healy #matty healy imagine #Dad!Matty Healy #dad!matty #requests open

87 notes · View notes

tyanis · 10 months ago

Note

What is CRPS??? What do you mean flare ups???

Ah... I see my queue popped out a post where I reference that.

Ok so... I've been sitting here wondering about the best way to explain my condition without just telling you to just go Google it. But honestly anon... and I mean this in the kindest way possible...

Please just go Google it.

I know you're curious and I'm the one who mentioned it in a past post... but Ive spent nearly 25 years having to explain my illness to people. Including my own doctors. It's draining.

The short of it is... everything hurts. A lot.

Won't kill me. Is incurable. Affects every aspect of my life.

Full name is Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. I have type 1 (RSD).

Uhm... if you do Google it, consider this a trigger warning for the disease's nickname. Just proceed with caution.

So... yeah.

#my asks #crps

3 notes · View notes

tragedyslayer · 2 years ago

Text

Neteyam x female reader! Part 4

I didn't feel like writing verbatim the Sullys being accepted into the Metkayina tribe, because I didn't think I would have much to add to the original script, and I dont think it's any fun to reread the same dialogue over and over again so time skip it is. Also like I said in part one I don't intend on following the movie very much other than the big plot points so I apologize if that bothers yall.

Also I've been writing for the past few days non-stop and have the next few parts ready! Ill shut up and let you guys read.

Characters are 18

Word count: 4,087

Part 3

I had spent the last few days informing Jake of everything there is to know from what the humans were doing on Pandora, to numbers and artillery. I spoke to Neteyams sister Kiri, she was biologically Grace’s daughter, but the Sullys raised her as their own. She told me a lot about my brother. It made me so happy to know he made real bonds with these people, I could tell Kiri genuinely cared for him.

With every second of our free time me and Neteyam found ourselves together. He showed me their way of life, how things worked, how I could fit in. He spoke as if I would never leave, I knew that wasn’t realistic, though I didn't mind pretending.

I was helping wash clothes with Kiri and she pulled at my cotton army green shirt.

“How long have you been wearing that?”

Tuk was sitting with us, not helping much but I don't think either of us minded. The blue child giggled at Kiri’s question. I grimaced, looking down at my clothes.

“A while.”

I admitted dryly and Kiri shook her head, grabbing my hand.

“Well if you are staying, you should look the part.”

The two girls led me away, I waited outside with Tuk as Kiri entered a tent. She returned with a handful of cloth, which was apparently my new wardrobe. Kiri laughed at my unsure expression,

“I know it's not what you're used to, but it will be soon enough.”

I smiled, trying my best to not seem totally off put by their dress code. It wasn’t that I had an issue with modesty, I just never in my life exposed so much skin.

Our next stop was Kiris tent. She assured me she would wait outside as she handed me my new clothes.

The top resembled a bralette made of black leather. The band that wrapped around my ribcage was woven, it was strapless. At first I assumed it wouldn’t hold, but I should have known the hand made Na’vi clothing fits better than the 3 dollar tube top from earth I attempted to wear once.

I slipped the thin leather band over my hips that supported another black leather cloth. The monochromatic clothing did not go unappreciated, I smiled down at myself. Wearing Na’vi clothing meant more to me than I expected it to.

“I'm ready”

Kiri walked into her tent and gasped, smiling at my new appearance.

“ Na’rìng (beautiful)”

I smiled back at her, flattered at the compliment. I looked down to her hands, she was holding a gun holster, a bow and arrow holder, and a few other things I wasn't able to identify.

“I brought you replacements, in case you didn't want to use your old stuff.”

She handed me the various objects and my heart melted, she was so sweet. I could tell she genuinely wanted me to feel welcomed. Kiri moved behind my back and slipped a necklace around my neck. It was a thin choker, it resembled the one Neytiri wore. Before I could thank her she slipped an armband up my arm, it matched the necklace from what I could tell.

“Kiri thank you, truly this is all too much.”

She shook her head, brushing off the thanks.

“Its nothing, I dress up Tuk all the time, it was fun to have a differently sized model. Now sit down.”

My smile faded into confusion, but I compiled without a complaint.

Kiri sat behind me, and Tuk joined her. When making our Avatars they try not to change us from our human for too much, so my hair was almost identical to how I had it as a human. I simply opted to have it pulled back into a ponytail, the braid connected to my queue hanging much lower than my loose strands.

“Do you mind?”

Kiri asked, touching the hair band that held my ponytail together, I shook my head.

“Not at all.”

Kiri left most of my hair down, she probably assumed it would be an easier transition for me than completely braided hair, but I didn't ask. She took two braids, one starting from each side of my forehead, and connected them in the back of my head. She did the same with two more braids, taking the hair from behind my ears. The four braids came together to connect to my queue. All my hair was pulled away from my face, besides a few rogue baby hairs that Kiri made thick enough to string jewelry onto. The rest of my hair went down to my shoulder blades, the braids rested on top.

I couldn't stop smiling as Kiri did my hair, It made me feel put together. This entire process made me feel like more of a true Na’vi, even if I never would be.

“Your hair is so soft, it was so easy to work with.”

I laughed, turning to look at Kiri.

“I'm glad it didn't give you trouble”

We both stood and I hugged Kiri, thanking her again before letting go.

“Alright I know you have things to do.”

I took that as her form of dismissal, so I smiled before exiting her tent.

It seemed to be a little later than mid day, I hoped I’d get better at telling the time from the position of the sun alone. It was nice not standing out like a sore thumb, I could feel a substantial decrease in stares.

Neteyam should have been done with his chores by now, I looked around for him, finally spotting him speaking to another Na’vi boy. His back was turned to me so I stood a few feet away, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. However the boy Neteyam was talking to noticed me, nodding his head in my direction. Neteyam turned to me, his eyes widened, and he did nothing but stare for a long moment.

“I know It’s different, but you don't have to stare.”

I scolded, suddenly feeling more embarrassed than confident in my new attire.

Neteyam shook his head immediately, dismissing himself from his friend and approaching me,

“No that's not it, I just- I wasn't expecting it.”

I shrugged, looking down at myself.

“Kiri thought it was about time I changed.”

Neteyam chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“I think Kiri was right.”

I rolled my eyes, turning on my heel.

“You're going to miss my convenient cargo pants the next time someone needs to slice their arm open.”

Neteyam chuckled, walking next to me.

“Maybe you are right, but we will manage.”

Neteyam nodded his head in the direction of the cave opening.

“Let's fly.”

Neteyam told me it was dangerous to get my own Ikran right now because of the sky people, but he promised we would go soon.

If I was being honest, I didn’t ever need my own Ikran, I was perfectly happy riding with Neteyam. It was part of the reason I liked flying so much.

We mounted the Ikran and Neteyam took no time to start flying, I hoped he looked forward to our time together as much as I did. Against my better judgment I wanted to assume so.

I enjoyed our flight just as much as I did the handful of times we had gone before. To my surprise Neteyam lowered us to the ground in what seemed to be a completely random area. I turned to look at him, and he tapped my thigh in a reassuring manner before getting off the Ikran. He helped me down as he always did, even though we both knew I was fully capable of doing it myself.

“Is something wrong Neteyam?”

I questioned walking up to him. He shook his head in denial, but the expression on his face was telling me a different story.

“What is it?”

I pressed, trying to look into his eyes, but he was conveniently just avoiding my gaze.

He sighed, trying his best to choose the correct words, but he settled on just telling the truth.

“My father, he wants to leave.”

I turned my head in confusion, I couldn't even begin to understand what he meant.

“He doesn’t think it's safe for us, not now that the Corporal is back, and knows we exist.”

Now it was my turn to look away, my features pinched together in every negative emotion I could muster.

Neteyam began to raise his hand to cup the girl's face before hesitating, he sighed, not knowing how to make the appropriate decision.

He settled on grabbing my hand, gently holding it, as if I was on the verge of disappearing. As I was processing what Neteyam told me he continued.

“I think you should come with us. I spoke to my dad, and he agrees.”

I pressed my lips together, using my free hand to rub my forehead.

“That's not safe. You all are a big enough target as it is, you can’t add me to the wanted list.”

Neteyam shook his head, squeezing my hand.

“Like you said, we are already the target. Besides I’m the one who convinced you to leave, I can't abandon you now.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, wishing I could just be happy for a little while without having my life uprooted. I raised my head, looking Neteyam in the eyes.

“Spider, I need to find him.”

Neteyam tucked my loose hair behind my ear, if I wasn't so upset the gesture would have me smiling for a week.

“Your best chance at getting him back is coming with us. Sully's stick together, Spider will find his way home.”

His voice was so calm and steady, and he was so goddamn convincing.

“Where are you even going to go? Your dad is the chief.”

Neteyam ran a hand through his braids, trying to decide where to begin.

He explained to me that Jake planned to step down in order to keep his people safe. Not only that but there were water tribes on the other side of the planet, Jake hoped they would take in his family if we agreed to learn their ways. This all seemed like a long shot but I reluctantly agreed.

“It is all going to work out.”

Neteyam assured me, I smiled at him. I didn’t understand how he was staying so strong. He was going to leave the only home he's ever known, and my psychopathic father wanted his entire family's blood. Out of the two of us Neteyam was getting the short end of the stick. I squeezed his hand, it was my way of thanking him for being so good to me in the short time we have known each other.

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

Before I knew it, me and the Sully family were walking into a marui led by Tsireya, the daughter of the leader of the Metkayina clan. Jake feigned excitement at the situation, but Neytiri did not hide her dismay as she dropped her luggage with a huff. I looked over to Tsireya who was beckoning me over, I looked back over to the Sullys before stepping a few feet away. She smiled at me, and I smiled back without hesitation. She was so kind, I could tell she had a good heart.

“You have not known them for long?”

Tsireya asked, but it seemed she already knew the answer. I shook my head,

“No, not long.”

I admitted, and she nodded in understanding. She led me only a few yards away to the Marui next door, which was also vacant.

“I think you'll be more comfortable here.”

My mouth opened as I realized what she was offering.

“No I couldn't-”

She didn't let me get another word out before profusely shaking her head.

“It is more than fine. Seven people should not have to live in an Marui anyway, let alone if they are not family.”

I sighed, offering her a thankful grin.

“I've got to get going, please let me know if you need anything.”

With that the sweet girl left. I sighed, looking around my new- home?

I scratched my head, realizing I had absolutely nothing to make the empty hut my own. Before I could stress over it for too long Neteyam walked in.

“I told you it would work out”

I laughed, turning in his direction.

“Maybe you were right, but it's all because your dad is the most convincing man in this galaxy.”

This time it was Neteyams turn to laugh.

“Either way, it worked.”

I stood by the doorway, next to Neteyam, looking out at the maze of homes. The ocean was visible on the horizon, I could hear the constant but subtle crash of the waves against each other. I took a moment to process everything that had happened.

Neteyam looked over towards Shyla. He was glad she agreed to come, though the two didn't know each other for long, it was hard to think of her leaving. He was confident in saying she was his best friend, which might make him seem like a loser, and his brother would definitely haze him for it, but Neteyam couldn't find himself caring.

He never knew someone that he wanted to be around so much, it was a completely foreign feeling, but a welcome one.

The next day was an early start. All the Sully kids and I met with Tsireya, her older brother Aonung, and his friend. I wasn't listening when he introduced himself. They decided we would start off the day by just swimming.The Metkayina clan kids went first, they all had olympic level dives, It never got old to see a Na'vi in their element. I didn't hesitate to follow, diving in the water with what I would consider to be decent form.

I swam ahead, trailing behind Tsireya. After swimming for a moment I looked back, smiling to myself. I watched as lo’ak, Neteyam and Tuk struggled to catch up. I motioned for them to hurry, but I still waited.

The three eventually swam up next to me. I grabbed Neteyams hand, urging him to come with me. I wanted to experience this with him like I had with everything else. Tuk and Lo’ak swam up to the surface immediately, Neteyam gave me an apologetic look before following his siblings. My expression probably resembled a pout as I watched Neteyam swim away. I would sigh If I wasn't submerged under water.

I swam over to the Metkayina kids, they all gave me a questioning look and I shrugged. It was weird being the only human, I have gone through extensive military training my whole life. Avatar or not I could swim for hours if I had to, and I spent a sad amount of time on my lung capacity. At my best I could hold my breath for 9 minutes, but I'm sure I've gotten rusty.

Aonung started to speak to me in sign language and I didn’t understand any of it. I replied back in ASL, looking to Tsireya but it was apparent that none of us were understanding each other.

I looked up to see Neteyam swimming down toward us, Lo’ak and Tuk close behind. Once the three made it back down Tsireya attempted to communicate with them, but they seemed even more lost than I was.

Tuk began swimming up for air and the rest of us followed to the surface.

Tuk whined, obviously having a hard time catching up with everyone else.

“Slow down! You're going too fast.”

I giggled and Tsireya turned to me.

“You can speak with your hands?”

I shrugged as best as I could while treading water.

“I was taught on earth, but it is obviously different from yours.”

Aonung shook his head, adding to the conversation

“Actually some of the signs you used made sense.”

Tsireya agreed with an eager smile.

“You will be able to learn quickly!”

Neteyam grunted under his breath, obviously frustrated.

Lo’ak seemed just as inpatient,

“This talking with your hands stuff makes no sense.”

I ignored Lo’ak and the two Metakina boys arguing over being stupid or something, looking around I furrowed my brows together.

“Where's Kiri?”

Turns out Kiri caught on quicker than any of us, and she was just enjoying the scenery. After retrieving her we all went to the beach to try and tame an Ilu of our own. I was a little bummed out that I was getting an Ilu rather than an Ikran, but it sure as hell was better than swimming everywhere.

Neteyam jabbed me in the side playfully as we walked onto the beach. I pushed his hand away, pretending to be annoyed.

“What's that for?”

I questioned him with a push to the shoulder.

Kiri and Lo’ak exchanged a knowing look, watching the pair from the corner of their eye.

“Why can you swim so well, and talk with your hands, and hold your breath as long as them?”

I laughed at how shocked he was, shaking my head.

“I'm a worrier too you know, but on earth they taught us to be prepared in any environment, not just the one we are comfortable in.”

He pursed his lips, realizing that maybe he should have swam more as a child.

Tsireya turned to face the group, wearing her usual polite smile.

“I think it would be better if we split into groups, I’ll stay her with Neteyam and Lo’ak,”

I smiled, I had a sneaking suspicion Tsireya had a crush, but seeing Lo’aks reaction to their pairing it seems the feelings mutual.

“Shyla, you’ll go with Aonung, he's the best with Ilus, he’ll make sure creating your first connection won't be too hard.”

I smiled at both Tsireya, and her brother nodding in understanding.

“Kiri and Tuk, you can learn from Rotxo, you both seem to be quick enough learners.”

So that's the other guy's name, I should probably remember that. Aonung nodded his head for me to follow him, and I complied, picking up my pase to his side.

Neteyam pressed his lips together, watching as Shyla and Aonung walked away together. Lo’ak watched his brother, laughing under his breath.

“Bro, don’t worry about it.”

The younger Sully boy assured his brother, and Neteyam scoffed.

“I am not worried, why would I be worried?”

Tsireya scrunched her nose, looking at Neteyam with unintentional pity.

“Lo’ak is right, she only sees you. I can tell.”

Neteyam’s hard expression softened, he looked to the girl, wanting to ask how she could be so sure. He opted to shut up about the topic, not wanting to be so transparent about his feelings in front of his siblings.

Kiri, rolled her eyes picking up her sister

“Barf, let's go Tuk.”

Aonung and I stood in the water, he held an untamed Ilu, keeping it steady for me.

“The Ilu will be able to feel you in every way when you make the connection, be sure to keep calm and focused.”

I took a deep breath, I must admit the Ilu’s were much less intimidating than the Ikran. Maybe it was better I was starting off small.

I swung my leg over the Ilu, Aonung kept his hand on the animal's body, keeping it steady the best he could. I took my queue, hesitating.

“It is ok”

Aonung assured me, I didn't take him for a comforting person, but I appreciated how patient he was with me. I smiled, nodding as I slowly made the bond.

I tried to keep my mind clear but it was difficult, the sensations I was feeling were like no other. It was like having another mind in the back of my head, the Ilus thoughts and emotions felt like a dream I had just woken up from.

They were so vivid yet I couldn't quite claim them as my own.

I could feel the water, I could feel it surround me, I felt the temperature, the pressure, the waves.

“Now, think of where you want to go, and how you want to do it. The Ilu will understand you. Keep a tight hold when coming in and out of the water.”

I held onto the saddle of the Ilu, letting my body rock with the waves under me.

“Got it.”

I whispered, composing myself once more before taking off. I didn't let my mind wander to anything but the water. I told my Ilu to dip down, and the two of us sank beneath the water together. I smiled to myself, going faster. It wasn't so hard, but maybe I was just amazing, that was probably it.

I picked up speed and my Ilu surfaced the water. I kept Aonungs advice in mind, keeping a tight grip on the leather straps. We sprang out into the air and I took a breath in, blinking the water out of my eyes. To my surprise I stuck the landing, not without almost falling off, but I managed to keep myself together. I laughed the hardest I had possibly ever in my life, my dopamine and serotonin levels skyrocketing. I treaded water on my Ilu as my laugh died down. I heard cheering from the shore and Aonung was hollering.

“Great job!”

I smiled and waved back at him.

I took a moment to look out onto the horizon, and over to the other side of the beach where Neteyam was. My timing was perfect to watch Neteyam fail horribly at riding his Ilu. I giggled to myself, guiding my Ilu to swim towards Neteyam.

He swam up to the surface after being bucked off of his Ilu, smacking the water in frustration. Their connection was broken as the Ilu swam away.

I glided up to the boy, and he sighed watching me.

“So you're perfect at this too?”

I smiled, reaching my hand out to him.

“I guess I'm in my element. Let me help you this time.”

Neteyam, despite being mildly pissed off, smiled back at the girl. Taking her hand, taking his usual spot behind her. Neteyam kept his hands to his sides, looking for a place to hold onto.

I looked over my shoulder.

“Neteyam, you need to hold on.”

I scolded, reaching back for his wrist, guiding it around my waist. He took the hint wrapping his other arm around my abdomen. It was windy, and we were soaking wet. Neteyams chest radiated heat into my back, his arms shielding my stomach from the cold.

I looked down, watching as the muscles in his forearms flexed. I had to tear away my eyes, looking up to the water.

Neteyam noticed Shylas shameless gaze, and the way she tensed under his touch. Tsireyas words rang in his head, giving him more confidence then he would usually ever have.

A smirk tugged at the side of Neteyams lips as he lowered his head, hovering over Shylas ear. Neteyams grip around the girl stayed strong, as if she would be pulled away by the current any moment.

My breath stopped as Neteyam held his head next to mine. His cheek pressed into my temple as he spoke.

“You can’t be so nervous.”

I could feel his breath on my ear, making them heighten out of instinct. Where the hell was this coming from?

“Your Ilu can feel it.”

I was frozen from both confusion and lust. I would never admit it, but I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep my cool If I made any sudden moves.

I took in a sharp breath, turning my head toward Neteyam, looking up to him.

“I can feel how fast your heart’s beating.”

I whispered, thinking of the day we met, hiding away as the sky people hunted us.

“I make you just as nervous.”

Neteyam wanted to kiss her, he wanted nothing more. He wanted to show her just how fast he could make her heart beat. The only thing stopping him was being in the line of sight of multiple people, including his siblings. He liked to think he could be more romantic than that.

Neteyams smirk turned into a smile.

“Maybe you're right”

He straightened his back, his body now towering over my own.

“Let's go back Fyole, I still have learning to do.”

I wanted to scream, I had no idea what he just called me. I was fluent in Na’vi but I didn't get the chance to learn the more obscure words in their vocabulary before it was time to come to Pandora.

Nonetheless I complied.

Tag List

@liyahsocorro

@teenagemuffinlampcalzone

#neteyam #neteyam fic #neteyam sully #sully family #neteyam x reader #neteyam fluff #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x oc #neteyam x you #fanfiction #avatar #avatar movie

21 notes · View notes

gwydionmisha · 2 years ago

Text

Personal: This Person Just Uncleaned My Apartment

I think I need to tell you about the Cleaner, because OMG, but for that you will need context on my pain/meds situation.

So less pain does not remotely equal no pain. My hip joints were a mess Wednesday, and only a little better Thursday. My shoulder joints, and thus my arms, started to go bad Thursday. The fundamental things wrong with my body aren't fixable, but the new meds are doing a stellar job on what I think of as the secondary pain, IE: everything else not joint or tendon or in their immediate vicinity. It is far more effective than the muscle relaxants I've been using for decades at this since it's hitting the nerves and not just the muscles. It also adds to the tired. So much to the tired. Bonus: on the new dose, I get dizzy if I don't rest enough, and the heart palpitations hit longer and harder when they hit.

Dramatically better means for an extreme chronic pain/chronic illness perspective, not from a remotely healthy person's perspective, if you follow. I was into about a month of unbearable torment when we tried the one pill dosage. I'm still not sure my system can handle the two pills, and I plan to stick to this dose. They are supposed to last eight hours, but I get an extra four hours of partial coverage per pill, and like I said the side effects are scaling up on me.

So right now my balance sucks, I'm exhausted, and my shoulder joints scream at me if I try to do anything remotely strenuous with them, you follow?

So far I've had four different cleaners turn up, two of them twice. Three of those are hard and thorough workers. One of those will not wear her mask. I put up with it because I am wearing mine and turn on all the fans and I'm scared if I don't take her, no one will come. (see five skipped cleaning appointments in a row).

Cleaning is a hard fucking job and they are underpaid, get no benefits, no set hours, and have to pay their own travel costs including for the ferry if they are coming from the reservation and that is a lot of gas. I respect cleaners. I've done it, after all, amoung the many shit jobs I had over the years. I trust them to know what they are doing. This has been the case in three instances. Most of the conversation with those three cleaners has been things like: Where does this go? Where is (whatever) kept? What should i do next? I refuse to micro manage. In my experience, micro managing is dramatically less efficient and just insults the person doing the job. I know I hated it, when I was the person being micro-managed. This works great for Goth Millennial and for the other three cleaners on the other four occasions.

I'm sure you are sensing the big but here.

So the cleaner who came today, turned up the other time she was here high as a kite. I don't mean a little buzzed, which is fairly normal in this town and this state. Weed's been legal here for ages. People with shitty service jobs occasionally come to work a schootch high. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things if, say, your barista's a little buzzed. I don't partake myself for a host of reasons, but most of my friends since... I'm going to say 1985, have/do. A little high is no big deal.

Orbiting Pluto without a suit is. She was way out of it girl at a party who's friends have to watch her like a hawk high. She was barely coherent high. She drove here. O.o. She drove home. This terrifies me. after some consultation with my friends including them seeing the mess she made and me acting out vignettes, our best guess is she must have dramatically misjudged an edible. (It had to be vape or edible. I would have smelled smoke. Edible makes the most sense for both the degree of Jesus fuck high and the thinking she was fine when she left home, but waaaay not fine when she got here. Surely she would have cancelled otherwise, right?).

So basically instead of my working away at the aggregate or tumblr queue programming or whatever, it was a lot like baby sitting a toddler who would not shut up, only the toddler would make more sense and the mess would have likely been confined to things in a toddler's reach. I had to go around after she left and actually use the forbidden to me for safety reasons ladder to save a bunch of my cups and glasses from the accident I could see happening the second Squirrel opened a dish cupboard because he had jammed them in their so precariously that the door was the only thing preventing them falling. Goth Millennial came the next day and had to take everything out and restack it. I could live with the fitted sheet being inside out, so we left that for today.

I did not turn her in to the asshole agency because 1. worker solidarity. I never went to work on a substance, but I've worked so, so many shit jobs and the Asshole Agency is terrible. 2. I was pretty sure it was a mistake involving an edible. 3. I was big on giving people another chance when I was teaching. On fuck up shouldn't lat for ever unless that fuck up was malicious or really damaging to other people.

Well, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice shame on me.

No, she was not noticeably high this time, though I couldn't rule a mild buzz out. She also had a shamefaced and subdued demeanor that clearly told me she knew how badly she'd fucked up last time. She said she'd signed up for me on purpose instead of her other option because I was really nice to her and my apartment was full of interesting things to look at while she cleaned. My apartment is full of interesting things to look at and I suspect she liked me because I was consistently kind to her when she was a mess last time and hadn’t turned her in. She really is sweet and nice and she is clearly trying her best but not remotely the sharpest tool in the shed. Which can be fine. I've known a lot of good workers over the years with significant developmental or accident related challenges and they did fine. She wasn't in that category, but I realized she'd need extra supervision compared to the others. I underestimated how much.

She did walk right up to Tavy and start petting him right away like last time which again confused and alarmed him. Sure, Squirrel and I and a couple of the Millennials can do that because we are his particular friends, but he barely knows her and and she would NOT stop doing that last time no matter how many times I told her he was a biter and apt to maul when he was worked up. I was so proud of him because he did not attack her the first three times, and honestly the forth time, I would have bitten her too in his place.

Tavy was noticeably wary of her. He did want to watch what she was doing, but he remembered her. (By contrast, the other cleaners he'd watch from a distance for a while, and then follow around and in a couple cases, get me to pick him up so he could get a better look. He really took to the GNC person who came once, and kept sniffing their legs). He did let her pet him without biting her, and she was together enough to stop when I told her he was down, and leave him alone for the rest of the two hours when I said he was in a mood to hang out and watch but not interact.

I got her through the linen change okay and last time she was so high she forgot we had a dishwasher after she'd emptied it and it took her most of her shift except the linen change, but the dishes looked and smelled clean, so I set her to that and did not remotely supervise her enough. This I did not discover until evening, but we'll get to that.

Then I set her to sweep and mop, which... Like I've worked a lot of restaurant jobs, often with people in a supported worker with severe intellectual challenges. I've never seen one who'd been doing it for years who couldn't do it correctly. She said she'd been doing this for several years.

Assuming makes an ass out of me, doesn't it?

Oh gods the mess she made! I should have known it was too hard for her when she started prepping for mopping before sweeping. So I told her to sweep first, which she did. I told her to dump the water in the sink, not the tub, which turned out to be very, very lucky. (The tub is the most expensive thing I own. A city program that remodels for elderly and disabled people paid for it. I will never be able to afford to fix or replace it. There are super strict cleaning directions for a reason, because the mechanism is delicate.) I told her to use the liquid all purpose cleaner under the sink. I should have got it out and prepped the bucket myself, but bending hurts and I was exhausted and dizzy and my arm situation was deteriorating. I should have done it anyway, because this is So. Much. Worse.

She used a ton of water. Like way, way to much water in a way that suggested she did not wring the mop and/or she was dumping puddles out of the bucket. It was a terrifying fall risk situation because this was the end of her shift and I really really needed to get ready for bed as soon as she left and forage delivery was late so I had to go drag it in, just as I'd given up and settled into bed. So I'm dizzy with unreliable legs, using both hands and going careful back and forth over this swamp of a floor with a weird gritty, soapy texture. Which is... not what you want in a cleaner for elderly and disabled people. I could fall and end up in the hospital under those conditions. And it;'s not like I could want a couple hours for it to dry. There was no point in washing my feet in the bathroom, so I kept using wipes on them before getting into bed.

Then I woke up to pee and realized just how bad it really was. *head desk* My best guess is she used Ajax, which is stored under a bookshelf in the bathroom, not under the sink. Like a TON of Ajax. The kitchen sink and nearby counter was caked with it and the floor was tacky and gritty and full of muddy footprints. I couldn't leave it like that. I cleaned the sink. I took the other mop with the disability friendly easy to wring it out attachment which had been to complicated for her head and wet mopped it all again, frequently rinsing and wringing it out, until my arms basically gave out and I had to wash up and take a nap.

It's still incredibly dirty. I feel like crying, because I can't feel clean unless my feet are. I've been skating around on damp towels, but though my hip joints are a lot better this evening, I wear out fast and it hurts quite a bit if I do it too much. I hate leaving a terrible mess like this for the millennial, but I simply can't mop any more with these arms. I'd have been so much better off giving her something else to do, but I couldn't think of anything else simple enough for her, and I know from last time she will not leave early no matter how much I tell her she can just clock out at the end of the hour.

At this point I was debating what to do. I had settled on calling Monday and asking them to put her on my no list without giving a reason, because I simply can't go through this again. It's too hard on my body and it's incredibly could seriously injure me dangerous.

Then I went to feed the Empress Livia and discovered something worse.

I'm medically fragile. Amoung so many other things, I have an immune system that is far more interested in own goals than fighting pathogens. I can and will catch anything you expose me too. Anything. I also have a dicey digestive system. Anything I use to prepare food or eat or drink needs to be really fucking clean. We prewash for grease and stuck on food then run them through the washer to make sure the soap and anything else is off. yes, I know this is bad for the environment as it uses extra water, but it’s a serious safety issue for me.

I was very, very clear on directions because I remembered last time. “Wash the dishes and then put the in the dishwasher. The dishes in there are dirty, so don’t put them away. I will run the washer after you leave.” Did she do that? No. Were the dishes cleaned and dried, which would be reasonably acceptable as an alternative? No. They were jammed in with the clean dishes, soaking wet and covered in soap bubbles six or seven hours after she left. We'll have to go through all the pans tomorrow. I pulled the pans and dishes I remembered were in the sink yesterday. I have no way of guessing with the glasses and flatware and I don't know which things Squirrel put in there.

I am exhausted and I hurt and I've been pushed way past the limit of what my body can handle in a day and I can't trust my dishes or the glass I'm drinking out of and I can't get the dirty Ajax grit off my feet. I'm going to go take a bath, but my feet will be dirty again the second I touch the floor.

She's another poor person. I feel like a class traitor just putting her on my no list, but she could theoretically kill an elderly person with her mopping, and I can't decide if I should say something, because anything I do will be a terrible option.

This person literally uncleaned my apartment. I just....

Look, I know it’s a free service, but this is so very much worse than when they don’t send anyone.

#WTF?!?#Asshole Agency

7 notes · View notes

thessalian · 1 year ago

Text

Thess vs The Placenta Guy

It says something about my life that while I do know all the names of the Undesirables I type for (because no one else wants to), the only nickname I really have for any of them is the one for who I can only call The Placenta Guy.

Look, the man does absolutely nothing but placenta cut-ups. Now, the thing about placenta cut-ups is that while they're booked under the mother's name, obviously you need to know a lot about the child (or children, if twins or something) when you're doing these, because you're generally trying to identify a placental cause for any issues that took place during the birth. Thus you have a triage form, which is mostly handwritten and generally fiddly and needs to be done every single time. Now, I used to be able to just copy from the form, but the new iteration of the system we're using is a mess - think badly designed website with large banner boxes that will not go away and get in the way of everything - and it's even worse on a small screen - say, a laptop screen. I'm contemplating asking for a USB-connective screen because the whole thing is a disaster on legs for me most of the time. But I've been coping as best I can because things are enough of a mess right now and I honestly don't want to make any kind of request this close to the holidays anyway.

Anyway. Point is that while placenta cut-ups are fiddly and annoying, they generally aren't urgent. So they sit in a pile until someone gets to them, and that someone kind of dumps them in all at once. But with the workload we've been having lately, there doesn't seem to have been time set aside to just sit down and do them. Instead, we have The Placenta Guy, staying after hours to dump whole bunches of them in the queue at once. First was Thursday night between 6-7pm. So I log in today, because more fucking overtime because there really is too much mess right now, and guess what? He was in for a couple of hours in the late morning / early afternoon, dumping another nearly dozen placenta reports into the queue. [EDIT: I tell a lie. He's still there, and the number of placenta cut-ups in the queue for today is now up to 15. He hasn't dropped one into the queue for about 15 minutes but these take awhile to do so that means nothing.] So they've got this guy pulling overtime to get the placenta cut-ups done, and me pulling overtime to get the reports for them typed. Because honestly, he's stayed late on other days and the other secretaries have just skipped them en masse to leave me to deal with them. Because gods forbid they make my life even the tiniest bit easier.

Right. I'll probably be stuck with at least Thursday night's offerings from The Placenta Guy, but the ones he put on the system today are problems for the rest of the girls on Monday. I am so fed up with being left with the annoyances, especially when I'm working overtime while still ill because they can't pick up the pace and our managers can't hire the help we clearly desperately need or even give this one secretary more hours, even though she's been begging for more hours. Why will they not give her the hours she obviously wants while making the disabled staffer pull overtime? I guess my work from home set-up works against me.

I'm stalling and avoiding, I know. But I'm looking down the barrel of a whole lot of work from The Placenta Guy because I'm basically at Thursday night's mess, and I don't want to. And of course they're all in a clump so unless I type them out of order, I'm stuck with the whole bunch of them one after the other. I swear, if they're going to have junior doctors dump this many longish reports into the queue well after hours on top of having all the junior doctors come in an hour before the secretaries do and leave one hour after the secretaries do, no fucking wonder we're always behind, even without the "unexpected absences". Which means this is going to be a cycle of me getting tortured with hours I should not be doing. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Oh, and to top it all off, turns out that the electrician my stepfather has coming in to replace the fuse boxes in here is coming at 8am, not 8:30 as previously stated. Apparently the electrician wants to come in earlier because "there's at least some light" (not the way this flat is located, there isn't; not at 8am in late November, but eh) and my stepfather will not tell him, "No, you said 8:30 so it's 8:30". Which is bullshit but never mind. Still means a half-hour less sleep. Though my stepfather did say I could crash in their spare room on Sunday night so I don't get disturbed, but ... no. I want my own bed. Besides, with this cold/flu thing I'm still suffering with, I'd probably snore like a fucking buzzsaw and I won't disturb anyone else that way if I can avoid it. Besides, it's yet more time without my computer.

Everything about this entire weekend blows dead goats for nickels.

#Thess has a day job

3 notes · View notes