#disorderly eating

[librarycards]

Do you know how stop obsessing over calories (look at pictures of food and watch videos of people in hospital) easier than "Just Start Eating More"? Every person says "Well, eat more and you will not think of it so much". I am not from U.S and harm reduction is not even in my language. Doctors here do not know this concept and it is thought "You do not eat so now you are sick. Go to the hospital or eat with parents". I learn about harm reduction on Tumblr and forums but I do not find an answer to make it easier. Maybe it does not be easier. If this is so, I understand, but I think of it often.

Oy. If I had a fix for calories, you can bet i'd be screaming it from the rooftops. that said, I have gotten to a place where I can look at food a Normal Amount and not watch those awful before & afters and the like, so i'm including below a few recs that don't involve (for example) eating more, decreasing activity, and other traditional 'recovery' methods.

find a new, niche/weird thing to watch videos about. seriously. get obsessed with some hobby or subculture and fill your ig, etc. feed with those! i went through a phase where i'd just watch flight attendant vlogs. i also love "draw/paint/package things with me" videos. Ideally, these would be videos where the person's body wasn't constantly centered.

relatedly - when i was really fixated on peoples' hospital stays and bodies and tubes and stuff, it was because i was lonely. i was desperate for someone who actually shared this experience with me, because i hadn't processed it yet. the best way to address this takes time, but is very worth it: make friends. irl and online. make friends with people who have shared experiences and are good listeners, but are also fun to talk to about other things.

if you do want to keep watching videos about food, you can reduce harm by watching people who promote positive and curious relationships with food! emmymadeinjapan on youtube is one example of this. the baker Erin McDowell is another.

forgive yourself, and make space for doing things partway + in grey areas. this was. like. the hardest thing for me: i spent so much time early on either eating everything on my plate or, if one element was too scary, eating none of it. this isn't a realistic way to approach anything in life! i don't know how old you are or how much of your diet you currently control, but if you are able to decide what's on your plate, make it a mix of things you know you can eat and things you're not sure about.

or, build in a time of day where you try a new snack, even if you aren't able to do it every time. the point is creating new habits -- habits in which you give yourself permission to eat. not because you are required to, but because you have important and meaningful things to do with your life + you need to eat in order to be alive for them!

honestly, there's only so much advice I can give beyond simply gritting your teeth and Doing the Thing. it fucking sucks, and it hurts, but it's much easier when you have warm people in your life who understand, and ways of entertaining yourself that are attendant to your experience but not completely mired in it. this is an important reminder that you're a regular person who can have a variety of regular interests! this is a part of you, but it does not wholly define you, and you have a whole life to live and relationships + hobbies to explore beyond this focus on calories + institutions.

[campgender]

earlier i started laughing so hard & abruptly i startled my fiancé because. for the past week or so i’ve been like why is my body going haywire in ways unrelated to flare patterns, especially it being astronomically difficult to coax myself into eating. & i suddenly realized that yesterday was the 7-year anniversary of fleeing my parents’ house under the cover of school day lmfaooo

[appl3-juice-box]

When someone starts looking at food labels, asking for gum, and drinking water non stop, that isn't them being healthy or going on a diet. Its a cry for help, and major signs of an eating disorder.

[skellitivly-positive]

Fulfilled.

Again!! This isn't a kink work, please don't treat it like it is!!1

Cw!! This does cover disorderly eating and restricting, stay safee! ❇

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Horror had a habit of overfeeding the others, while underfeeding himself. Murder and Killer would go to bed in sweat pants or athletic shorts, bellies full and eyes sleepy. Anything leftover stored away by the big guy himself, not wanting to 'take' any more leftovers incase the others wanted more.

Of course, his two mates noticed almost immediately. Noticed how for a guy so tall, his ecto wouldn't even summon due to his self induced malnourishment.

So one day, Killer decided to do something about it. Firing up the stove and using whatever recipe came up first in Horror's cook book.

Meanwhile, Murder napped atop Horror in a cat like fashion, awaiting Killer to be done and knowing the taller was unaware.

Once Killer was done with what turned out to be meatloaf, grilled vegetables, with mashed potatoes, Murder awoke the sleepy Horror and guided him into the kitchen. Taking his own seat next to the bigger fellow.

Horror seemed both distraught and surprised Killer had cooked, insisting he could've done it. But Killer protested his words, saying he was glad Horror just napped, and he should let someone else handle things awhile.

So Horror was served a rather large serving, bigger than Killer or Murder ever get. Murder leaned into Horror's side, as Horror stares down at the plate in near horror. But not wanting to offend Killer, he hesitantly takes a bite.

And loved it.

As Horror enjoyed his fill, Killer told Horror there was one rule to eating his dinner, getting an expression that mimicked a raised eyebrow.

Killers rule was Horror had to eat until he was full. Not one serving because that's what was 'acceptable'. No lying about not being hungry anymore—Horror had to eat until he was genuinely satisfied with his meal.

And Horror protested, saying he'd eat way too much. So Killer put it in perspective. Saying that they were all in a position where they didn't have to rely on leftovers. There wouldn't be a day where they'd suddenly be out of food—Horror, all of them could eat literally everything in the fridge tonight, and could shopping for more an hour later.

They aren't starving.

And that's when the big guy realized, the only one that's been starving was him. So set on making sure everyone else was satisfied with how much they got to eat, he'd restrict himself as much as he could.

Looking down with mild anxiety at his empty plate...

He asked for seconds.

Horror belongs to @/horrortalecomic!

Killer belongs to @/rahafwabas!

Murder belongs to @/ask-dusttale!

Remember my works are not undertum! Please do not sexualize a healthy relationship with food and body!

[battry-acid]

avatarsona >:))) its name is artry and it eats people

[trans-axolotl]

eating disorders can cause seizures???? I’ve never heard that before

content warning: continued in depth discussion of disorderly eating, restrictive eating behaviors, refeeding syndrome, and specific physical effects. no specific numbers are listed. scientific sources are linked.

it happens pretty rarely. what i was talking about in the tags of another post was referring to something that happened to a friend because of refeeding syndrome. refeeding syndrome can happen when someone has been restricting food intake pretty severally and then reestablishes nutrition again. this can happen to people at any weight and size, and it's actually a huge issue in eating disorder treatment because fatphobic doctors sometimes don't take into account the risks of refeeding syndrome when they're only using fatphobic metrics like BMI instead of actually looking at the patterns of behavior and nutrient levels. because of the electrolyte + fluid shifts that happen when you're going from extreme restriction to regular intake again, refeeding syndrome can cause things like seizures, cardiac complications, and can be fatal. here's an scientific study that talks more about it (TW for continued eating disorder talk, specific calories, numbers, etc)

so it's really important that when people are reengaging with food and nutrition after long periods of restriction and malnutrition, that they have access to vitamin + electrolyte supplementation, and that they have the support to understand how to taper back up to slowly increasing nutrition intake to prevent refeeding syndrome. that applies to anyone, regardless of weight or bmi. it also applies to anyone who is re-accessing nutrition after a long period of malnutrition caused by things other than eating disorders, such as chronic illnesses or famine.

i went through refeeding syndrome and luckily my doctors caught it in time to supplement my potassium and electrolyte levels enough that i didn't have very severe effects beyond cardiac effects. it was really scary and felt really horrible, and has left me with some complications even months later.

so yeah, it can be a really serious and fatal complication with eating disorders and i honestly think that it's one of the most important things to know in harm reduction for eating disorders so that people can understand how to prevent some risks related to accessing to nutrition while also in active restriction. people need to understand the specific risks so that people can make more informed decisions about what steps they can take to prevent refeeding syndrome, how to support their body even if they aren't ready for full recovery or to stop using behaviors.

[ghostlover4life]

you can be anorexic and bulimic. :)))

god knows I am!!!!

also it’s not possible to be a “fake” anorexic :) if you have an ed causing/driving you to fix to it calorically you probably have an ED in my opinion and there’s nothing wrong with that!!!! :)))!

why did this actually make me feel a bit better about my ED.

[mo0nl0v3r]

Counting calories is the only reason i passed algebra

[sincurse]

I just don't feel good.

And I think I'm turning food repulsed agaiiiiiiin. I've only eaten a few cookies and some soup the past two days. My mom asked me what we're having for dinner and all of her suggestions turned my stomach.

[major-fukkup]

I feel so hungry and weak but I also feel like I will throw up if I eat a single thing I can get at work

Thinking about it I think all I had yesterday was like 8 cookies and the day before that I don't even know

I'm just glad that after today I'm off for three days so if I still can't eat at least I don't have to work an 8 hour shift

Getting through church tomorrow will be hell if I'm hungry but I will manage

[librarycards]

hi sorry i saw u rb posts on veganism & i was wondering how you reconcile that stuff re: ED's (for context i am vegetarian -which ik isn't the same thing- for eco/ethical reasons but also have loved ones with eating problems that i never never never want to shame for eating ever)

this is a good question! I've addressed it a few times before on here, but in brief: veganism is a philosophy and ethical orientation around all forms of consumption and relationality. food is, for a number of reasons (many of which also contribute to the prevalence of eds - fixations on false ideas of 'perfectable' heath; desirability politics; etc) a hypervisible component of vegan life. this is particularly true given that there is a massive imbalance in the ways that we collectively gather. a focus on food-themed events marginalizes a wide variety of disabled people and/or people with religious/ethical food restrictions, and in this case, being vegan and living with an ed are actually pretty similar re: exclusion and frustration.

given the above, more and more people these days have been delineating between "vegan" and "plant based". to be vegan, here, is to have a certain set of political commitments - toward multispecies + climate justice, via critical analysis and collective organizing regarding what we are, literally and figuratively, expected to swallow under settler colonial capitalist hegemony. to be, or eat, a plant-based diet, is no more than what it says on the tin.

with that important distinction aside, i actually want to focus on one part of your ask: the idea that to be vegan is in and of itself an act of shaming. i want you (and not specifically you, because this is something a lot of people should ask themselves) to think about why you find veganism itself to shame (verb) nonvegans. generally, there are a few reasons for this: perhaps it's just not having met a lot of vegans and only hearing internet scaremongering. perhaps it's a discomfort not unlike other unwillingness to look at the horrible shit that makes "our" lifestyles possible. it is hard to understand our own complicity in hegemonic violence, and, vegan or not, it is impossible to extricate ourselves fully from it. but we do need to look. veganism, at its best, provides a critical lens for looking, and a set of practices to minimize, as best we can, our buy-in.

truthfully, i think that people who feel shamed by the existence of a vegan in their midst should figure that problem out on their own. this includes psychiatrically disabled people, incl. disorderly eaters. this does not give any of us license to harangue vulnerable people for their eating habits, but it also doesn't morally obligate us to change our lifestyles for their comfort!

as a vegetarian, you probably don't have a whole lot of occasion to talk about your vegetarianism (outside, say, drs offices or food-based gatherings). people are often surprised when they learn that i'm vegan, because they assume all vegans must be "preachy" (i have yet to meet a vegan over the age of eighteen irl who is like this. i've met a lot of Big Mad protein bros, though, as well as MYRIAD preachy med professionals and laypeople who freak tf out that i'm a principled vegan anorexic). at the end of the day, you need to be able to live a life you can tolerate, one that best facilitates you to impart good in the world + in your relationships. one that allows you to understand the gravity and importance of your own survival, on your terms. if vegetarianism or veganism do that for you, those who love you will support it, even if it takes a while.

so, yeah. i'm not sure if you wanted explanation, advice, or both, so I gave both. sorry for the long answer (even though i promised brevity...) but i believe very strongly in bodily autonomy - this informs my veganism - anarchism - broad politic, and my answer to this ask. so you got an essay!!

[campgender]

the chocolate-cherry-banana protein shake is a metaphor for having zero appetite to speak of

[ID: a photo of Riverdale playing on a TV in a dark room. Cheryl and the River Vixens are dancing to Stupid Love on the sidelines of a football game. a glass of milkshake is held up towards the screen by Mac’s hand. end ID]

[stonersap]

.

[peony-always]

Dial Drunk

wolverine/logan howlett x afab!reader

words - 4k

tags: dp&w!Logan, damsel(ish)!reader, angst angst angst (he has so much potential as a sad wet tomcat), feelings (Logan isn't good at them), use of alcohol, canon-typical violence, !attempted assault!, implied assault

quick an: this is my first full fic!! the ghost of Logan's past hovered over my shoulder as I wrote this, loosely based on Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan but it's more of just an inspiration border creds to @/bunnysrph

Logan was pissed. Furious. He was so overwhelmingly angry with himself that his claws had extended and for a while, he couldn’t retract them. He finally got them to slide back under his skin when the cop standing outside his holding cell door threatened to put him in with the general population if he didn’t put his ‘weapons’ away.

That was the last thing he needed right now. He was already on edge, and being surrounded by people who hated him just for who he was would probably be his last straw. He sighed, slumping back against the dirty concrete wall behind him. He rubbed his temples, taking a few deep breaths to calm his once again rising anger.

He understood why he was in that stupid cell. Bar fights were enough to get a normal person arrested for being drunk and disorderly, but cops were always especially ready to arrest a mutant. He hated that he had let his animalistic side get him here, proving them right about how dangerous he was, but he could only take so much of that stupid guy in the booth behind him spewing ant-mutant hatred right in his face.

“Damn liquor,” Logan thought to himself as his head continued to throb. That in and of itself was enough to make him upset, as he was typically so well acquainted with alcohol that it never got to him. Tonight, however, he had drunk way more than usual, throwing back shots in the dingy bar a few blocks from his apartment as quickly as the bartender could pour them up.

The idiotic man he had beaten at the bar wasn’t the true cause of his anger though. That honor fell to his stupid, stupid brain. It was after the cops had wrangled him and shoved him into their stuffy, too-small cruiser that Logan had made his infuriating error.

The driving officer, a short and stocky man with a pudgy face, had looked back at him from the rearview mirror and said,” The guy you were fightin’, George, he ain’t gonna press charges on ya. He’s in and outta the lockup every other week, and he ain’t gonna be lookin’ for any more trouble than he’s already in. Plus, I think you’re more of a danger to yourself than to anybody else, goin’ around that drunk. You ain’t caused any trouble before, but we still gotta bring you in. Procedure, ya know. Got anybody you want us to call to pick ya up?”

Logan hadn’t even thought about it before your name came spilling from his lips. He hadn’t even realized what he said until they arrived at the jail and the pudgy cop pulled him from the back seat. “Her? Really?” the cop said, suspicion heavy in his voice. “She babysits my kids on the weekends, didn’t know she associated with drunk fighters like you.”

Logan snarled on instinct as he heard the inherent prejudice in the cop's voice before he realized who the cop was talking about. ‘No,’, he thought. ‘God, no.’ He hadn’t seen you in months, and he hadn’t been planning on seeing you ever again. He didn’t know why he didn’t tell the cop he wanted to change his call. He could have gotten him to phone Wade or Laura, they would have picked him up in a heartbeat. 

Maybe he didn’t say anything because he wanted to see you, to make sure you were okay after the long months you had spent apart. Or maybe he was just still drunk, forgetting the past and wanting you to take him home with you, to let him have his seat on the couch while he sobered up, drinking your fruity teas and eating the sickeningly sweet cookies you always bought from the local bakery. “Too much sugar and you’ll rot your teeth out,” he’d tell you with a lopsided smile, knowing how you’d respond. Every time he said it you’d prance up to him and poke a finger into his chest, grinning,” You’re already so sweet that my teeth ache, so what does more sugar hurt?” And then you’d lean up, pecking him on the lips as you move to go back to your tasks. 

His heart ached as that memory resurfaced and his head fell to join his back against the unforgiving chill of the cell wall. He tried to fight it (no he didn’t), but his drink-addled brain was unable to stop the memories of you from flooding back into his system.

Your first meeting, a year ago that felt more like ten since you had left. Logan had been stalking his way down the street, huffing and puffing, pissed at Wade for inviting people over and blaring music when he had known that day was Logan’s only day off for two weeks. He had grabbed his jacket and stormed out into the chilly New York evening, turning left outside their apartment as he made his way toward the nearest bar. He craved a stiff drink, damn Wade and Laura had hidden all of the alcohol in the house from him. They told him he needed to dry out, and he did. He knew it as well as everyone else, but it was hard. After years of drowning his guilt and grief in drink, it made him nervous to let go, to face his days head-on instead of looking at them from the syrupy brown lens of his old friend whiskey.

It was on his way to the bar that he heard it. A muffled cry, the sound of flesh hitting concrete, a grunt of pain. He took off in the direction of the sound, his hyper-sensitive nose smelling the fear lacing the air the closer he got to a dingy alley two streets over. As he rounded the corner, he saw you. Your hands were bound behind your back and there was a gag stuffed in your mouth. Your eyes pled with Logan to save you as your attacker dragged you across the ground, mumbling and lurching back and forth as he pulled you along,” Stupid fuckin’ whore. Women. Always gettin’ in the way of what I deserve. Maybe I’ll put you in the dumpster when I’m done with you, let you rot with the flies.” 

Logan’s nostrils flared as he surged forward, yanking your leg from the man’s grip and pushing you further away as your attacker spun to face him. “What the-” was all the scumbag got out before Logan clocked him, knocking him out with one punch. He really wanted to keep beating on the guy, but his enhanced hearing had him turning toward you as you shuddered, whimpers escaping the gag as tears rolled down your face.

He held his hands up, approaching slowly and kneeling on the dirty ground in front of you and gently pulling the gag from your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut. You let out shuddering sobs as he reached around you to loosen your bindings, careful not to touch you more than he had to. He had experienced more than his fair share of trauma, and he knew how hard it could be to have someone be so close to you when you were going through it, so he made sure to lean back as soon as he had freed you.

However, you immediately proved his assumption wrong. You slumped down against him, your hands fisting his t-shirt as you sniffled and coughed. “Thank-thank you.” you stuttered as you tried to calm yourself. “Thank you so, so much.” Logan tentatively reached around you to pat your back,” You’re welcome, bub. Just doin’ what needed to be done.” As his hand tapped out a soothing beat against your back, you felt yourself begin to come down from the adrenaline rush of almost being kidnapped. You thought back to the man’s ugly words, sniffling again as you whispered, “He was going to kill me.”

Logan bristled immediately, his hand coming to a halt on your back. “Never would have let that happen, ya hear me. I’d have heard ya from a mile away,” he grunted and gently stood to his feet, pulling you up with him. 

“You live close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied. “Just down the street.”

He finally got a good look at you, and by God were you pretty. Even with bits of gravel leaving red divots in your cheeks and your eyes watery with tears, you were among the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He shook himself out of his daze as you took a deep breath and started walking shakily down the street. He tried to stay close but not too close as you walked, following behind you and scenting the air for any more threats. He sure as hell didn’t want to put you through anything else tonight.

The two of you walked in silence until you finally stopped, turning to face Logan as you stood outside the lobby door of your apartment complex. You managed a slight smile as you looked up at him, “I’m sorry that I’m not inviting you in,” you said. “It’s just that this evening has been hellish and I’d like to be alone.”

Logan shook his head, stepping back, “No, no, I understand, I’ll be-”. You cut him off,” Come tomorrow around noon. I’ll treat you to coffee for saving me.” You said this forcefully, almost demanding him to do as you said. It shocked Logan, and a small smile made it’s way onto his lips. “Yes, ma’am.” You thanked him one more time and headed into your building, leaving Logan standing outside, staring at the doors, more curious about you than he had been about anyone in a good long while. 

He did show up the next day, letting you take him to a quaint cafe and buy him a coffee, plain black, which you teased him for. You spent what felt like hours asking him questions and telling him about yourself, and it felt so right, so natural for both of you. Just being there with you was enough to take Logan’s mind off of the things that haunted him, solely focused on your beautiful face and animated expression.

When you realized you had been yapping at this near-stranger for almost 3 hours, you figured it was time to go, gathering your trash and standing up, blush heating up your cheeks. “Thank you again,” you said. “For saving me last night and for letting me talk your ear off today.” Logan flashed you a small smile, tilting his head slightly, “How about the same time tomorrow then? My treat.”

He watched your face light up and thought to himself that he’d go broke buying you coffee if you’d just keep looking at him that way. You quickly agreed, telling him that you’d definitely be there if he wouldn’t mind you being a little late, as work was a little further than your apartment. 

And so it began, the two of you had gotten closer and closer, until a random Tuesday when you blurted out that you wanted to be his girlfriend, if he’d have you. After teasing you about your blush, he of course agreed, claiming that you had been his girlfriend for weeks and you had just noticed. 

You brought him around to your place, where you cooked with him, watched all your favorite movies, and made love. He brought you around to his place, too. You met Wade and Al, which prompted the discussion about his mutation and history. You took everything in stride, reassuring Logan that his past changed nothing, that you were still his if he was still yours. He found a job at a local community college, taking training classes and becoming one of the campus security officers. He quit drinking so much, instead relying on your perfectly brewed cups of coffee to get him through the day, only having a drink or two after work if you were feeling like it.

Logan had never been happier. It was like you were made for him. He took care of you and in turn, you soothed his battered soul. No one had ever touched him with the tenderness that you did, no one ever made him feel as good as you. His existence had become pure bliss and he felt he finally had a purpose again. 

Your lives went on this way for a year and three months, until, just like with every other good thing he had ever had, he ruined it. 

Logan had come to your place before you got off work, aiming to surprise you with dinner after you had complained of a particularly hard week. He had just stepped through the door when he stopped cold, smelling that someone was here, or had been here recently. It wasn’t a scent he recognized, and he prowled through the apartment, checking every room thoroughly for an intruder. When he found no one, he made his way back to the kitchen, still uneasy.

It was there that he saw the papers on the counter, one neat little stack that would change his life. He moved the blank paper on top and a chill shot up his spine. It was a photo of you, taken when he was sure you thought no one was watching. It showed you through the window of your apartment, a soft smile on your face as you put on a coat over your work uniform. He could even make out the locket around your neck that he had given you for your anniversary. 

He moved on to the next pages, letters detailing your entire life, down to how much your water bill had been that month. 

It was the second to last page that sealed his fate, his name next to a summons, a set of coordinates he was to come to or they would kill you. He quickly thought to himself that he could protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, then immediately realized that that wasn’t the kind of life he had wanted to give you, always on the run and afraid for your life. No, he would have to end things with you and go take care of this mess himself. It broke him to think of hurting you in the way that he would be required to. You were so resilient, so passionate, and stubborn when it came to him. He would have to destroy all of that to get you to leave him alone.

And so, he sat down in the living room and waited, tucking the papers into his jacket so you wouldn’t see them. Dread filled his bones, dragging him down into the couch and he thought he might not make it out of your apartment alive.

It wasn’t much later when he heard the front door open, your lively humming filling his ears and making him feel so much worse. He stayed seated as you made your way through the apartment, shedding your bag and coat as you went.

“Oh, Lo! You scared me!” you said as you saw him, your hand going to your chest in mock shock. “What are you doing here before me?”

Logan swallowed and spoke, trying not to let his voice shake,”We need to talk.”

Your smile dropped instantly and you moved toward him, balking when he held a hand up to stop you. “Lo, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

The look on your face was killing him, so he looked away as he spoke,”I want to break up.”

You sank down to your knees, squinting as you tried to get him to meet your eyes,” What? Lo, what happened? I promise we can figure it out together. You’ve just got to tell me what’s wro-”

“I cheated,” he said, cutting you off. “I don’t want to be with you anymore. I want to be with her.” As soon as he said it, he knew if he could just convince you that he had really broken your trust that way, you’d be done with him.

You laughed slightly, awkwardly,” Logan, that’s not funny. You shouldn’t say things like that. Did I do something wrong or make you mad? I’m sorry for whatever I did, but you really shouldn’t lie.”

The look on your face was almost enough to break his resolve, but the need to protect you won out over his impending grief, “I’m not joking. I’m done with this relationship and I’m done with you. I've found something better.” He felt so wrong saying those words, knowing you feared that you weren’t good enough for him.

“Lo-Logan, please, we can work this out. I can do better, I can be better if you’ll just tell me what you need that I’m not giving you. Please.”

You reached out and grabbed his sleeve, your expression pleading. Logan felt his heart that you had mended shatter back into a million pieces, standing up and ripping his sleeve from your grasp.

“Are you stupid?” he asked, injecting as much venom into his voice as he could. “I said I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want you stupid food, or your stupid gifts, or your pathetic love. I’m done. Do you hear me? Get it through your thick skull and stay away from me. I never want to see you again.” He turned away from you as he walked toward the door, stomping over his heart on the way.

He shook you off again as you grabbed his pant leg, still on your knees on the floor. Your voice warbled as you begged.  “Logan, baby, please,” you cried. “I can change I swear. I can be whatever you need. Just please don’t leave me. You’re my whole life. You make me so happy. I can’t-I can’t do it without you. Please.”

He risked one glance back at you, telling himself he needed to see your face one more time to remind himself why he was leaving. The sight of you on the floor, tears pouring down your cheeks, was killing him. He should have known that he couldn’t have you, that something would force him to leave, but he had foolishly hoped that he could spite whatever higher power kept hurting him by keeping you.

“Don’t come around,” he spat with as much vitriol as he could muster. “I won’t contact you, and you don’t contact me. Let’s make this as easy for you as possible. Just forget I ever existed.”

He didn’t look back again, didn’t watch you weep as you began to mourn what you thought would be forever, knowing you could never stop loving him, even now that he hated you.

Logan groaned, leaning forward against his knees as he came back to himself, his heart aching as painfully as it had when he had lived it the first time. After he had left you, he had gone to the coordinates on the papers he had taken from the apartment. They led to a rural town in Quebec, a place he couldn’t remember but felt like he had been before. There, he met up with a gang of mutant hunters who believed that somehow the universe’s Logan had come back from the dead. They tried to kill him again and threatened him with more violence toward you if he didn’t die willingly. Fat chance. Logan was a newly hollow man and had no qualms about tracking and slaughtering every one of the mutant hunters so that his kind could live in a semblance of peace. 

He stayed up north for a while, squatting in an abandoned cabin and letting his instincts rule him. That was better than having his every waking thought be filled with how he had left you broken on your living room floor, believing that he had betrayed you.

Eventually, he went back to Vancouver. Somehow, his job let him come back, and Wade didn’t pester him with questions (probably because Logan had almost bitten his head off after he asked the second one).

He had considered going to your apartment now that the threat against you was handled, but he knew that as soon as he found happiness with you he’d have to leave again. It was for your own good, really. He wanted you to be happy, and you couldn’t be happy if Logan was constantly walking out on you.

So he went to work and started drinking heavily again, which had led him to the inside of a holding cell, coming to terms with the fact that he would be there all night.

As soon has he had laid down on the hard metal bench he had been sat on for hours, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his head and watched the cop approach, fully expecting him to say that you had hung up as soon as you heard what they were asking of you. Maybe you hadn’t even answered and Logan would get another call. 

What he didn’t expect, however, was for the cop to swing the cell door open and grunt at him, motioning for him to get up. Logan quirked up a brow as he stood, “Is it chow or somethin’?” he asked. The cop chuckled, “You sure you’d rather eat the slop they serve here than leave with the pretty little lady that came to get you? She signed your papers, so you’re good to go. And please, don’t come back.”

Logan almost stumbled as he processed what the cop had said, his mind racing as he sniffed the air. 

You.

You were here, close. Your scent was so strong. Logan’s heart clenched. He truly believed he would never smell you again, the sweet musk of your skin paired with your perfume. He slowly turned, and there you were.

You were soaking wet, your hair drenched and your mascara slightly smudged, a jean jacket falling from your shoulders. Something was wrong, though. You were hunched over yourself, almost cowering in his presence. Your hands shook as you pulled your jacket further up your arms. Logan would have thought nothing of it and assumed you were just cold if you scent hadn’t changed. He could smell fear on you, a fear he hadn’t come into contact with since the night you met.

You turned and started walking toward the jailhouse door, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Logan was following you. He caught up to you in a couple strides, staying slightly behind you to give you your space. All he wanted was to reach out and touch you, to hold you in his arms again, but he resisted. On one hand, he was immensely grateful that you had come to get him. On the other hand, he felt so guilty that you had come to save someone who had broken your heart.

The two of you walked out into the rain, Logan still following you. You led him to a small car, one that you hadn’t had when he left you. He didn’t move as you rounded the car to get in, assuming he’d walk back to Wade’s from there.

“Get in, Logan,” you said quietly. 

He took a deep breath as he opened the passenger seat and got in, leaning forward so as to get as little water on your seats as possible. “Thank you,” he said. “Really, you didn’t have to come get me. I don’t even know why I gave them your name. I’ve just had too much to drink and-”

It was only then that you turned to face him, your face illuminated softly in the hazy light from the lamps lining the street. He scanned your face, his blood running cold as he saw your black eye and split lip, your eyes bright red with shed tears. “Logan,” you said, cutting him off. You took a deep, shaky breath, “We need to talk.”

[blockedbykei]

manager!reader x tsukki please

karasuno team making predictions about who will be the first one to become a dad in the future, not knowing it will be tsukki 🫢

say that theyre having a reunion and all of them goes 0_o after seeing readers bby bump, you could do the rest tbh😭❤️

currently living off my mobile data 🙏 tysm for this request

— little easter egg here if u see it

the boys were always eager to place bets on things unnecessary. who can spike the most balls, who can drink the most milk, who can shove the most meat in their mouth without chewing it. they always bargained a few yens or free food.

it had rubbed on you a few bets later.

in the night before sugawara, daichi, shimizu, and asahi's graduation day, the whole team had decided to have a sleepover inside the gym. the boys set up their futons on the court, while the girls stayed at the stage, futons side by side.

but you were all gathered in the middle, clad in mismatched pyjamas, snacks tossed around, dinner melted in your stomachs. you were guaranteed that this night would hold a special place in your heart– something to look back to when change begins the next day.

"who's most likely to...?" kageyama falls back, head on a pillow beside hinata's thigh, a finger on his chin. "go to jail?"

you and tsukishima point at hinata. yamaguchi points at yachi, and she, including kageyama, sugawara, daichi, and shimizu, point at tanaka. asahi points at noya, as well as narita, kinoshita, and ennoshita.

"this one gets breaking and entering," kei says. "tanaka-san gets harrassment. noya for disorderly conduct."

you laugh and lean your shoulder on his, reaching over his lap for a mochi. you feel his nose tickle the top of your head, but it was one of the few subtle public affections he only gives you that night. kei bites on your dessert, glancing at you as a small way of expressing his gratitude.

"okay," hinata throws another pack of chips on the futon, bouncing lightly. "who's most likely to become a parent in the next 10 years?"

majority seemed to point at daichi and sugawara. they both gasp.

"why us?"

"you parent all of us!"

"we wouldn't have to if you all acted like you were properly disciplined," daichi says, eating a chip from koshi's hand. you missed the way the tips of his ears blushed.

"i think tsukishima here would be a dad first," tanaka teases. he cranes his leg and kicks his shin jovially. "eh? since you're the first one here to get a girlfriend out of all of us."

your cheeks flush, burning when kei gives you a quick glance before shrugging. nonetheless you shrug, placing your hands behind you to lean back. "i think kageyama would be a dad first."

ennoshita snorts. "i caught him talking to a girl the other day."

"he peed himself," hinata quips. "he was asking for his pen back, i'm pretty sure he'd be asking for his dignity back, too."

"fuck off, dumbass."

"i bet a thousand yen on kageyama being the first one to be a dad!" noya slams his fist, rattling the snacks on the futon. tsukishima scoffs, however ignored by the others as they buzz in excitement. "anyone on tsukishima?"

"me and yachi," yamaguchi raises his hand, lifting hitoka's. hinata joins them.

"what about me?" daichi points to himself. "i could be the first one to be a dad. i'm your senior!"

"a thousand yen on daddy daichi!"

"noya, you can't switch your bet!" tanaka yells. "stick to kageyama. i'm going with sawamura-san."

they look at you. "oh, i'm not joining."

"i am," tsukishima says. "i'm on daddy kageyama." he winks.

"please don't lose this bet," hinata pleads to his setter, hands clasped. "i don't want to lose a thousand yen. keep it in your pants."

"shut up, hinata!"

later that night, when everyone had laughed their way to sleep, you and tsukishima silently snuck out the dark gymnasium and into the open night sky, walking towards the football field and laying down in the middle of it, damp grass tickling your backs.

"seriously though, who do you think would be a dad first?" you ask him, craning your neck to the side to look at him. tsukishima was already looking at you, glasses askew, his eyebrows raised just the slighest.

"kageyama wouldn't get a girl pregnant until he's forty." he jests. "me though..."

his tone is playful, the way his shoulders come up to a shrug. you wheeze out and laugh, clutching your chest, even though it made you blush deeply. he only wrinkles his nose at you, but his smile reaches to his eyes. "i doubt, kei. i think daichi would be first."

"why didn't you say it?"

"you being their answer caught me off guard!" you argue, hands in the air. "whaddya think, though? should we let them win this?"

"i'm kinda surprised they think kageyama would be the first to be a dad considering he literally eye fucks a volleyball," he pokes your cheek. "i don't want to let them win though."

you pat his head. "don't knock me up until we're 41, 'kay?"

tsukishima got you pregnant at 27.

and while you were both elated at the sight of two lines at a cheap stick, it was soon dropped at the realization that you (technically he did) had let them won one of the bets.

("keep it inside you until you're forty!"

"i can't fucking do that, smartass.")

you both hoped that they'd long forgotten the 11 year bet, that the minute they stepped through the door, everyone would gasp at the sight of your growing belly and coo at the thought of little blondes running around your home and into their arms.

much to your dismay, it was the first thing they brought up.

"a thousand yen!" hinata exclaims, his hand already out to accept their cash.

they immediately hand out their cash in his palm before scurrying up to awe at your belly, all bent to face it. you place your hands on top, tsukishima splaying his fingers protectively on your hip.

"it's so big!"

"honey, don't say that," shimizu swats tanaka on his head.

yachi takes your hand in both hers, shaking in excitement. "how far long?!"

you smile. "four months."

kageyama, with hinata under his arm, approaches you with a grin so condescending. "i'm going to bully your child to death," he tells kei.

"i'm going to bully you to death, virgin boy."

"i- i am not a virgin!"

the rest of the evening was spent gawping at your belly. you'd only allowed asahi, daichi, hinata, yachi, shimizu, and the godfather yamaguchi to touch your stomach.

(yamaguchi had fainted when kei announced he'd be the godfather).

and while everyone else were occupied at the sport playing on the tv, you rest your back on kei's chest, body between his legs, laced fingers on top of your stomach. it felt like the sleepover back then; and you're too emotionally over the edge that it sends an overwhelming tear on your eyes.

tsukishima cranes his neck to look down at you and wipes your tear, pushing your hair behind you. "why you crying, love?"

"nothing," you sniffle, snuggling deeper into him. though he seemed to have read your mind, and placed a warm kiss on your temple.

"hey," nishinoya stands up, tanned arms stretching. "i bet a thousand yen little tsukishima here is a boy."

you and tsukishima yell at him to stop.

but 8 out of 15 voted for a girl (ennoshita, sugawara, yachi, shimizu, yamaguchi, you, tsukishima)

7 of those voted for a boy and strictly told tsukishima to train him to play volleyball.

those 7 players paid outside the delivery room when tsukishima came out with a babygirl in his hands, telling everyone that she was hoshi, who had his eyes and hair, but had your smile that he loved and adored.

[bioethicists]

Come Chat about Psych Abolition + Harm Reduction!

Over the past several weeks, I've hosted 5 Zooms where we chatted about psych abolition + its futures + the work we want to see in the world. It was a deeply healing experience for me + I appreciated hearing from all of you so much more than you could even know. As I discussed, I am hoping to host a second set of these Zooms, this time 6 in sequence, focused on harm reduction + psych abolition. Harm reduction is both my vocation + my passion in life + I'm really excited to share about it with you all.

As some people requested, the format this time will be a little different- I will open each session with a brief (~15 min) presentation from either myself or one of my comrades discussing the topic + explaining crucial works in a way that is accessible to someone with no prior knowledge of harm reduction. After that, we will chat similarly to the format of the first set of meetings, bouncing ideas off one another + sharing what resonates with us + what doesn't.

A reminder to anyone who wants to attend that under no circumstances may anyone contact the authorities as a result of anything spoken about during the Zoom. Free discussion of self-injury + suicidality + substance use are expected without fear of being “crisis” intervened upon. That being said, the goal of these chats is not necessarily to be a support group but more to talk about psychiatric abolition, build community, + increase knowledge.

I will be doing 3 weekday evening sessions + 3 midday Saturday sessions (apologies to those who observe Shabbat! My Sundays became a bit haywire), hoping to accommodate people with different work schedules + time zones. They will be via Zoom. Each topic will repeat 2x, but I still encourage people to attend both if they want to chat more about it! 'Lurking' (aka camera off, no speaking) is encouraged! Any way that you want to show up is okay- we regularly have people attend who do not engage at all, or only engage in the chat. Chat messages are read aloud by me to ensure that chat participants feel equally included in the group.

Also, I am looking for people who have resources that may be helpful for these, as well as people who might be interested in speaking about their experiences with these topics. Unfortunately this is all just done by me, in my office, so I don't have compensation to offer, but anyone who wants to contribute in any capacity is encouraged to reach out <3 Elliott @trans-axolotl will be giving the presentation portion for Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality).

Also, if you would like to join the Madness + Liberation forum where we discuss psychiatric abolition at greater length, please feel free to fill out my Google Form here.

Those of you who need a dial-in number, please message me on Tumblr or send an anon + I will provide it.

Resource Masterlist

Summary of the first set of sessions, Substance Use

Summary of the second set of sessions, Disorderly Eating

UPDATED!Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality): Monday September 23rd @ 9pm EST | 1am UTC

UPDATED!Harm Reduction (Self-Injury + Suicidality): Saturday September 28th @ 12pm EST | 4pm UTC

(image by asako narahashi, 2003)