#for years even my job has been the 'stress relief' to the anxiety I live with daily

[tazmiilly]

it is crazy that I am just unable of letting myself rest when I don't feel well. working is always my go-to

[aureutr]

Health update, featuring: DIAGNOSIS

I have been a chronic pain patient for a few years now. It's difficult to fully articulate how much pain changes your life, unless you are someone who has lived it or had a loved one live it.

Pain sucked away my energy and brainpower. I found myself sleeping more and more, first in naps after work then I was regularly calling out half days just to sleep. All the while, I was seeing doctor after doctor in hopes that someone would have an answer.

No one did. At first, it was almost a relief. It wasn't cancer, after all. But then the relief turned into disappointment and quickly into resignation. Labs were fine, X-ray was clear, CT was good. It should have been good news, except I still hurt all of the time and no one could tell me why.

The pain got worse. It peaked in Autumn 2022, when I finally got my first sliver of relief. Gabapentin kept the pain in control enough that I no longer had to regularly sleep half of the day, but it made me foggy. Still, it was easier to manage than the brain fog from pain, so I took it.

I still take it, and I’m on quite the high dose. It’s given me a semblance of a life back, but it’s not the answer or a cure. I still napped, I still hurt too much to even walk around a store for more than an hour or so. And, if I did, it would be my only activity for the day.

I lost my job late last year. I don’t believe it was because of the time I had to take, it was a mass layoff, but I’m certain it did not help. That, at least, ended up fine. I found a job I prefer with far better pay within a few months. And they’re, so far, understanding that I’m working through health problems.

But being unemployed was still a stressor, and I had learned that stress was integral to my pain. When I was stressed, it was worse. When I was calm, it was bearable.

I’ll skip describing another round of tests and hypotheses that went nowhere. In October 2023, my husband and I went to the Mayo Clinic or the Cleveland Clinic or John Hopkins (I am being intentionally vague here). This was our second time visiting, the first gave us absolutely nothing.

A nurse practitioner took a very quick look at me, too quick for our comfort, and declared the issue muscular. She recommended physical therapy. It seemed too simple, really. After all of that, all that money spent and time invested? It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried some exercise, but when moving makes your pain worse and worse pain zaps your energy, that’s difficult to maintain.

Still, I wasn’t going to turn my nose up at anything at this point. And it’s a damn good thing I didn’t.

The physical therapist I ended up seeing told me I had the strongest pelvic floor she’s ever seen. And that’s not a good thing. I have apparently taken literal decades worth of anxiety, depression, self-loathing, and any other negative emotion you can think of, and held them taut there, keeping my pelvic muscles almost constantly tensed.

And when you tense that much for that long, dysfunction arises.

My official diagnosis is Pelvic Floor Disorder. All of my PT has been focused on stretching, no strength training or cardio. I’m retraining my body to relax, to let go.

It has been amazing.

At the time of writing, I’ve been going to sessions for about six weeks. Already, I am eager to walk our dogs every day. I’ve gone out on my own or with friends to move.

The pain is not gone. But it is so much less that my pain clinic doctor is discussing reducing my gabapentin in a couple of months. And with decreased pain comes decreased brain fog.

Decreased brain fog means not only an improvement in my professional work, but space for fandom. I’ve written more than I’ve shared, lots of short private stuff for friends, but I haven’t had enough organized thought to re-approach the stories I put on hold.

I can’t promise anything, of course, but I hope that can change soon. I’ve been dabbling in Distant Echoes again, and it’s fun to be back in that world.

I’m not well. But I’m better. I’m so, so much better.

[harr0w7]

OC LORE FINALLY!! (Not all, but I want to explain my drawing with it) (Trigger warning for 4buse)

Klayne (black hooded guy) ever since he lost his mother and found a job at the Diamond Organization, has lived his next 2 years being gas-lit, 4bused, mistreated, pushed away and cut off from the others by his boss Mayah. At his limit of endurance, Klayne attempted one night to murder Mayah with a silver knife, but the plan failed and all the rumors about Klayne being a bad person would become more difficult to be proven otherwise, especially since Mayah has already gained the other member's trust about Klayne. Therefore, Klayne escaped while being pursued by Mayah's bodyguards...

Klayne, thinking he has been left on his own, would never expect someone to come rescue him, nor help him; that until Rei (guy with the hat) shows up to him, telling him that he had witnessed for those 2 years Mayah's wrongdoings towards Klayne, apologizing for never acting on it out of fear and cowardice. Of course it took Klayne a long time before fully trusting Rei after all he has been through, Klayne has been hesitant to accept Rei's help and even believe his words, but eventually he gave in, realizing that Rei is just there to help him and is genuine with his intentions.

On their way to a safer place, both Klayne and Rei and the guards that were looking for Klayne got interrupted by a huge cat-like monster, an opportunity for Klayne and Rei to catch their pursuers off guard and run even farther away from them, leaving no trace anymore, but also a huge danger since the monster doesn't care whose blood it is going to feast on. The monster chases after the many bodyguards, harming and killing almost all of them, while Klayne and Rei are now on the other side of the forest; hiding behind a tree and a bush, waiting for any noise to disappear and escape entirely.

Rei and Klayne talk together, quietly, and have a heartwarming conversation until the cat-like monster finally finds them and chases after them too. On their way, Rei trips and falls, allowing the creature pursuing them to charge even faster and tackle Rei. Klayne is too terrorized to do anything despite him still holding his silver knife in his hands...he is watching the scene of his friend getting attacked, while he tries to approach very slowly, but his mind only throws him back to when he tried to kill Mayah, contrasting feelings of fear, terror, all mixed up in Klayne's damaged brain which eventually freeze him in place, his grip on the knife tight but he does nothing. However, Rei gets saved by Jupiter, another character I will introduce in another blog because for now this whole part is what will bring us back to what I have illustrated below:

a bit ahead in the story, Klayne and Rei find themselves in a cave, exploring it around and even finding a rather big rock stalactite. Klayne manages to take it off the ceiling, analyzing it with Rei. In this very cave, our protagonists meet the cat-like monster once again!

the monster attacks Rei again, immediately injuring his face and his arm; ripping part of his coat in the process. Klayne finds himself feeling terrified and helpless like the first time this has happened, he isn't holding his knife here, just the stalactite. But Klayne had had enough of being the bottom of the joke, the person that someone else (Mayah) turned him into, he is tired of trying to believe he is the worst and tired of proving others Mayah's words. He doesn't want to lose Rei, so he embraces courage and his strength to charge at the monster and slash its head off with the stalactite.

Klayne lets himself fall on his knees, reaching Rei; tears streaming down his face as he breathes heavily out of relief of finally fighting back, the suppressed stress, guilt and anxiety inside him which make the words "I'm not a monster" slip out of his mouth.

Rei smiles at him; he always believed in Klayne and always will, reassuring him that he can see that Klayne is not a monster, and showing his gratitude for helping him.

This symbolizes a huge step for Klayne in his journey to heal and forgive himself, giving himself a chance to fight back for himself, for the people who love him and take back his sense of identity, his own self.

I know this was long, but if you read it till here, thank you! I am seriously trying to develop my story more, a story I've been creating since 2019/20! I really hope I will make it to turn it into something, one day :)

and I hope the message of this story is clear, if not, well I'll be straightforward: the story is about healing, regardless of how long the journey will be, regardless of who you are, regardless of what you are, you are valid and your 4busers don't always have a reason to be who they are and don't always have a justification for what they did/do, sometimes they are just born evil and that's on them, not your fault. I'll explain Mayah in another blog of course, but;

Mayah will NEVER have resentment for what he did and does, but his victims will ALWAYS suffer the consequences, blaming their own selves because of him. He will never change, even if people try to help him.

[twigg96]

Hey twig! I know it's been awhile but I have a scenario for you. How would Dethklok react to a friend or s/o that has annoying coworkers and just has a bad day at their job?

@jordyndoomstar It’s ok!! I hope your like these HCs!!

Nathan- would 100% take care of his S/O’s annoying coworkers. He wouldn’t immediately tell them that he dealt with them. But the ramifications and the mere fact that the coworker just never returned to work after that day he just “randomly came for a visit” was sign enough. His S/O would be suspicious and ask around. It wouldn’t be long until the rumors of a large man in all black came in beating the living shit out of the coworkers that made his partner’s life hell. One single news story hits the media before it immediately vanished from the public eye and Charles comes to Nathan’s S/O’s workplace with a team of lawyers stating they’d be happy to pay out an undisclosed amount to pay the medical bills so long as his partner is moved to a separate team and a stringent plan is put in place so an incident like this never happens again.

Pickles - this man is the embodiment of tomfoolery. Whenever he hears that some Dick and Tom were fuckin around at work with his partner, you know he already was scheming up ways to fuck up their year. If mandated drug tests were a thing at his S/O’s job. He was for sure baking pot brownies for his partner’s lunch with a little note that said “for your special friend”. He’d send spam emails to their accounts both work and personal laughing all the while when he got replies like “unsubscribe” like that was going to help anything. On days when his partner came home bawling from work he’d stay up all night and go out early just to swipe the Amazon packages from the dickheads lawns.

Murderface- this man went full psycho mode. He holds his partner tight as they cry and make promises they know he’ll never keep. He swears he’ll hunt them down and go full Ed Gein on their ass. If they thought they could walk on his partner! Wait til he turned them into luxury rugs! Or even better. He’d contract what’s his name German man to do it ya know his partner remembered… the guy that made the sexy human suit his partner loved to see him in so much. Maybe he’d make one for them. Talking so wildly made his S/O laugh and giggle something they desperately needed and even if they knew he’d never do anything to hurt them. The mere distraction of it all was more than enough of a relief for them.

Skwisgaar - used another more… physical form of distraction to help soothe his partner’s anxiety and stress. An amazing spa treatment complete with massage, therapy sessions, nails, hair treatments, and personalized skin treatments. He showered with his partner, rubbing soothing suds into their skin, allowing the warm water to ease their stress away. Massaging their scalp with his nails he was sure to pull the shampoo the full way through each and every strand of hair, rinsing it thoroughly before applying conditioner to the ends of his partner’s hair. He helped to moisturize and massage his partner’s full body laying them on the bed naked so he could apply their face mask and cucumbers while they talked about everything bothering them and he applied stay in conditioner.

Toki - this boy is a cuddler. Not a fixer. He’s more likely to cuddle up to his S/O after a rough day than he is to suggest anything. He’d order take out. Lots and lots of take out. Whatever his partner wanted. From wherever they wanted. Even if he hated it. He made sure to DoorDash extra sweets too. Even if he couldn’t have any doesn’t mean his partner couldn’t just eat some. They’d watch a movie from a streaming platform. Maybe 5 or 6 all night. As they got ready for bed the pair got ready together doing their nightly routine Toki pulls his phone out to take an impromptu photo of his partner, posting it to Dethstigram with the caption: “My beautiful angel makes me smile every night and day.”

[honeyblve]

i had a huge milestone happen yesterday in my health journey and i wanted to vent and document it for myself, kind of like a journal entry, because this is the end of a chapter and beginning of another for me. its kind of a selfish post that nobody else will probably care about but i think it will be nice to have to look back on. im not sure if adding trigger warnings to this post is needed but im going to add them just incase anyone takes the time to read this if you do read this i appreciate it sm.

tw: injury, mistreatment from doctors, mental health issues, su*cide

for the past year ive been dealing with a serious back injury that has wreaked havoc on my life. i had to quit my job and was basically bed ridden for months. its effected my mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing in such a horrible and traumatic way. i've seen numerous doctors and tried multiple types of possible solutions with no resolve in my pain, been rejected by a doctor for surgery due to my body type (dont even get me started on that bs. it was fully a him problem and not a me problem), and essentially lost all quality of life. at one point i was so exhausted and overstimulated from all the pain that i didnt see any point in living if the rest of my life was going to be consumed with an unimaginable and unbearable amount of pain. i spent many nights crying myself to sleep, feeling very isolated and alone, taking insane amounts of medicine for a small amount of relief, unable to rest due to pain, and missed out on some very important moments in my life and others around me lives as well. i graduated college earlier this year after 5 years of working full time, going to college full time, and dealing with health issues on top of it and was unable to walk across the stage and celebrate my hard work all because of this injury. i bottled up a lot of the stress and sadness i was experiencing because i didnt want to add another thing on to the list of problems to figure out for myself or my family. which in turn caused me to start having major issues with anxiety and depression. a year in my life that was meant for growth, transition, and finding my footing as a proper adult was completely overtaken. to say it was a hard year is such an understatement but truly the only way i can really put it.

yesterday, i saw a new specialist and was finally approved for surgery after being turned down by another specialist back in september ‘22. a surgery that takes 45 minutes and will almost instantly relieve any pain im experiencing. a surgery that i was told would usually be suggested 6 weeks into experiencing symptoms a year and two months after i started experiencing symptoms. for the first time i was shown my mri results that i had done 9 months ago and explained just how severe the injury in my back is. my jaw was on the floor at how horrible it was. i could finally understand what was happening inside my body. it helped my brain justify everything that ive been experiencing and proved to myself that i wasnt crazy. when i was asked if i wanted to move forward with the surgery it was the first time that i felt like i wasnt just being observed and passed along for someone else to make the decision for me. i finally felt like i was given the opportunity to speak for myself and make a decision for my own body. i wasnt seen based only on my outer appearance or a number on a scale. i was seen as a human being who is experiencing pain 24/7 for over 400 days and needed help. finally my advocacy for myself worked and a doctor is on my side. when he left the room i immediately started sobbing and felt like i could breathe for the first time in what felt like forever.

looking back i think in many ways this year was meant for internal growth. there were a lot of things i had to learn about myself and begin to change. either through therapy or by opening up to family and friends. so even though it was not necessarily growth in the literal world, i grew up a lot within myself. for some reason in all of my circumstances i always feel the need to learn something. maybe its just blind optimism. whatever it is though it helps me put one foot in front of the other. what i learned through all of this is valuing myself and knowing my self worth. i learned how to advocate for myself and not take no for an answer. i learned how strong i am in multiple areas of my life. but i also learned how to accept help and know that i cant do everything by myself. and that doesnt mean that i'm weak.

if anyone reads this i hope that you know its so important to learn to advocate for your wellbeing and dont allow anyone to mistreat you, use you, or demand that you meet their expectations before being treated as a human being. its okay to take a step back and take care of yourself. and when it comes to doctors and medicine, trust. your. body. it knows when something is wrong. doctors are just people and sometimes dont know wtf theyre talking about. they are not all-knowing deities. they dont live in your body. not agreeing with them is not against the law. it is okay to seek out care from someone else. and if you feel stuck with someone who is not listening to you or who doesnt see you as a human being, there are doctors out there that truly love what they do and want to help you. they dont see you as a statistic or a box to check off on a long list of things to do for the day. they truly want to see you thrive and be healthy. sometimes it just takes a little work to find them.

anyways this was much longer than i expected it to be. if you read this far down i am so grateful that you took some time to read this post. it means a lot. and if future me reads this, i hope i've continued to learn how to value myself in all circumstances and not take any of lifes bs.

[sarah-aliterarylife]

My Life In Literature : Welcome!

A boy once told me how I would die.

It would be breast cancer, he told me, in my right breast. It would happen on 20th June 2022. I would be 37 years old. So when I found a lump in my breast on a cold winter’s night in January 2022, frightened is not an accurate word to describe the fear I felt.

The boy was my first boyfriend, and he told me this when I was 15 years old. He was also a pathological liar, a psychotic bully who terrified me beyond belief for much of the two and an half years we were together. Our relationship was what I now recognise to be abusive. He would often threaten to harm himself or harm me if I left, and so I stayed, for far longer than I should have done. One day, I will write about my time with this boy and the effects his actions had on my life, but now is not that time.

21 years after I ended the relationship, I knew deep down that no one can predict the future and the lump was merely a coincidence, but nevertheless, the experience sent me into a spiral. I began to experience anxiety attacks (mainly at night before bed, leaving me unable to sleep afterwards). My skin broke out into red, scaly patches, that no moisturiser would clear. I lost weight. I stopped eating. My mind descended into a dark place and my work suffered. Sometimes I could feel the lump and other times I could not. I felt as if I was going mad. Eventually, I consulted my doctor and she prescribed anti-depressants, therapy and a mammogram.

After a long 3 week wait for a hospital appointment, a mammogram and ultrasound revealed the lump to be benign, a swollen gland that increased in size in accordance with hormones (hence why I could feel it at certain times and not at others). The relief I felt at discovering the lump was benign was so great that I burst into tears on the ultrasound chair, leading three concerned nurses to rush over and comfort me.

One of the worst experiences of my life was finally over, but the effects stayed with me for many months. Indeed, they are still with me today. I began to reflect on my life, and my choices. Have I really lived the life I wanted for myself? Will the choices I have made in my life lead to regret, or a sense of accomplishment? Have I lived my life with meaning and purpose?

I came to the conclusion that I have lived a cautious life, an unremarkable one. I work hard and live in a comfortable home, with a man I love very much. I am careful with my finances and follow the 80/20 rule – 80% frugality and modesty with my money, my diet, my lifestyle in general, and 20% fun and spontaneity. In a cost of living crisis, it’s the best we can all hope for.

I have spent my life moving. Moving house, moving jobs, moving between friendships and relationships. But throughout all this movement, the one constant in my life has been books. For as long as I can remember, I have been an avid reader. Most people in life have a passion – for some people it’s sport, or food, or fitness. My passion is books. I’m a book nerd, as a former work colleague once called me.

Books have shaped my life in a way that no person ever could. They have been my friends and constant companions through times of anxiety and stress, they have helped me to relax and grounded me throughout a lifelong battle with depression and anxiety.

Reading forms a non-negotiable part of my daily routine. I read on trains, whilst waiting in the car outside shops or petrol stations, at art galleries, in cafes, in fields, even standing outside buildings in a crowded city. I read everything I can get my hands on – everything from thrillers, the classics, biographies, memoirs, poetry, cookbooks and westerns. I don’t have a “type” or a favourite genre. As long as it is a good story told well, I will read it.

I do not consider myself to be an intellectual, or particularly well read. I have never finished the complete works of Shakespeare (although I do own a copy). I couldn’t finish Mrs Dalloway, Swann’s Way or Doctor Zhivago. It took me three attempts to read Lord of the Rings. My long standing ambition to read the complete works of Charles Dickens has stalled at 5 novels, and I have struggled with most of them (but I did enjoy Oliver Twist and Great Expectations). I dislike books that other people love, and often find myself enjoying titles that many people hate. For instance, I found On The Road by Jack Kerouac dull and meandering, but thoroughly enjoyed The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. Where I am at in my life influences what I read. Sometimes I’m in a non-fiction phase, at other times I decide to widen my range and begin working my way through the classics (again).

But when I find a book I love, I am obsessed. I find excuses to read it every moment I can. I have been known to read on my lunchbreak, whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, and on many occasions whilst I probably should be doing something much more important. A long time ago, I was once told off for reading at work. Today, the simple joy of sitting quietly with a good book at the end of my working day is one of the greatest pleasures in my life.

This blog is something I have been considering for a long time. It began with a clear-out and developed as the cost of living crisis in the UK began to bite. It will not surprise you to learn that I own a lot of books! Currently, I own two (large) full bookcases and several heaving bookshelves, plus a Kindle with over 180 titles stored (many read, some as yet unread). My haul increases by roughly one title per week (bought either electronically or second hand on Ebay – big shout out to World of Books, I’m a big fan of yours!)

One of the many thoughts that came out of my experience last year, was thinking about the books that have shaped my life. In this blog, I will be exploring some of those titles with you, and explaining how they have played a part in shaping my life. Some I loved, some I did not. Some I will illustrate with my memories of where I was and what I was doing whilst reading them. I will give you my thoughts on each title, as best as I can articulate them.

I am not a literary critic, nor am I an author. You may disagree with some of my thoughts, or come to the conclusion that I am not particularly well read. That’s ok. I am simply a lover of books, with a passion for reading. I do not stick to one particular genre, or certain authors (although I do have my favourites). Over the last few years I have tried to avoid re-reading the same books, but from time to time I have a relapse and return to titles that bring me joy. It’s a mental health thing.

By writing this blog, I hope to take you on a journey, and introduce you to some of the books that I have enjoyed (or not, as the case may be!) throughout my life. Along the way, I may even discover a few titles I’d forgotten about! On second thoughts, that’s unlikely – one thing you will learn about me is that I have a memory better than any elephant. Maybe you’ll agree with my thoughts. Perhaps you won’t. We may even have fun together.

But first, where to start?

[distort1xn]

life is honestly the weirdest thing any of us could possibly go through.

i had bronchitis a few weeks back, took my meds, felt better for weeks, and now my chest is acting up for reasons i couldn’t even begin to explain to you. during this time, however, i rediscovered a writer i absolutely adore and have been binging her books like a total fanatic. last night, when i woke up in the throws of actual suffocation due to my chest simply having closed up completely, it was her writing i turned to to keep me sane while i sat around at 2AM, waiting for some kind of relief when my meds wouldn’t work.

changing the context, but not the topic.

i got a promotion at work a few months back. i work in finance and i’m quite good at my job, but i inherited an unprofitable book of clients from an ex-colleague and have been fighting an uphill battle ever since. fighting that battle, though, hasn’t been nearly as anxiety-inducing as this promotion. not because i am in danger of losing said promotion, but because it was given to me by my sister and brother-in-law and i really don’t want to mess this up for them. they are applying exactly zero pressure and expect nothing of me other than to do my job the way i was already doing it, but lately i’ve just been fighting work stress like a motherfucker.

more context change.

my baby brother (24) is getting married soon. 14th of september, to be exact. long gone are the expectations that i, as the eldest sibling (my sister is a year older, but we also honorarily adopted her well into adulthood), should be married off and living in domestic bliss by now. my family is well aware that marriage, kids and suburban banality is not my idea of happy-ever-after. but i still feel pressure. i still feel like i should’ve made something of my life by now. not necessarily emotionally, but in some other significant way. i am painfully aware that this is my (extremely likely) thrice neurodivergent ass measuring myself by neurotypical standards. i know, okay? not to mention, we have another brother, between the ‘baby’ and i (he’ll be 26 in december) who isn’t anywhere near marriage yet, either. he has a business that did quite well for a while, but shifting socio-economic factors in our country has made him a bit strapped for cash, too, as of late. so, we’re in the same boat. but i’m not judging him – just myself.

add to this that my mother is seemingly utterly clueless about any sort of trauma whatsoever, because she just sent me a puff piece article about my ex music teacher who was so beyond abusive i can’t even utter his name without getting a panic attack so severe, all the king’s benzos and all the king’s zen couldn’t put me back together again. the man’s abuse of me was emotional, mental and sexual, and i have literally never recovered. 12 years down the line and i have probably uttered his name maybe a handful of times. but, sure, mom – you’re right: i haven’t rehashed those 2 years of trauma in a while. thanks so much for reminding me!

things just haven’t felt ‘normal’ for a while now. i feel scrutinised and weird and like i’m walking on eggshells around myself. i feel like i’m letting people down, even when no one has any expectations of me beyond what i’m already doing. maybe it’s imposter syndrome. anyone who knows me knows that if ‘negative interoception’ was something that could exist on a scale of ‘good’ to ‘bad’, that’d be where i’d fall.

i just wish i could find some way back to myself. i’m watching myself slip into old, bad habits in survival mode, and i don’t need to be here. i’m not in any ‘danger’.

life is weird. emotions are hard. living becomes surviving without any one of us noticing far too easily. help.

[ithurtssomuch]

Sorry for over sharing all of this, just wanted to get this off my chest

I feel like I've got nothing going on for me. I'm almost 26 and I haven't finished college (already finished the classes but there's a project I have to do and I been meaning to do it for almost 2 years. I don't know what or how to do it)

My family keep telling me to find a job. I don't have the experience but I tried applying for internships. I didn't tell them I did, hoping to be like "hey, I got an interview" but I haven't heard a thing

Also, I don't have any friends, I wish I was exaggerating but it's true. No one to hang out with or talk to, sometimes I feel like an incredibly boring person. I've never been in a relationship, but if I can't make friends, how will someone like me romantically?

It feels like I've made all the wrong choices in my life and I don't know how to turn it around

Even if it may take some time for me to reply, my inbox has been, is and will always be open to those who need someone to listen to them, so do not apologise, my dear.

I definitely understand the college thing. I‘ve been through the very same thing, although I have to admit that I decided to allow myself to quit after I had found an internship, which turned into a student job, then into a traineeship and then a full-time job. I realised that university and the „I still have to finish it“ made me feel terrible. It made my depression and anxiety worse, and I felt..helpless and frustrated. My family kept pressuring me to finish university, but then I made the decision that I had to do what is best for me, and I quit. I've probably never felt as much relief as during that time. Which doesn't mean that this is what I'm recommending to you, btw. But it can always be an option.

If you want to finish college, I would recommend reaching out to some guidance prof if you have that or the prof that is supposed grade your project. They can help you try and break down the project into smaller, easier to handle parts. Maybe even if give you some tips. You have to break it down into small pieces, though, because your brain will otherwise always connect it with big negative thoughts. (It's easier to tell tiny negative thoughts to fuck off!)

Do not stress about age, though. (Definitely easier to say than do, I know...but) There are plenty of people who are older than you, who are still studying. Sometimes it just takes more time - that doesn‘t mean that that time is wasted. You‘ve lived your life, you‘ve experienced things, or maybe you needed a break because you couldn‘t focus on college. All of that is fine - you do not have to have your life „together“ at 26. Believe me, even at 30+ most of us don‘t.

Applying for internships is a wonderful idea and I‘m very proud of you for having done so. Even if it may take some time until you get a reply. For what it‘s worth, coming from someone who has been on the „having to do the interview and find new employees/internships/students“ end sometimes it just takes ages to get through the applicants. Depending on the industry you‘ve applied for, things might still be hectic. Perhaps reach out again to them and ask them if they have had the time to take a look yet because you‘d be eager to learn more about them and their business through the interview? Otherwise, just keep applying. Do they have covering letters where you are from? Try to apply whatever you do/have done at college in the past to some aspects of the internship to show off why you'd be the perfect candidate. I've always found that that helps the most when it's about getting an interview.

Have you tried making some friends online? You can also use apps that might be for dating (depending on the country you are from) to find friends (or dates if you wish to find a romantic partner).

What about trying new things - going to workshops your college might be offering? Who knows, you might meet someone there then. I mean, it‘s definitely scary !! doing stuff by yourself, but it will also make you feel great if you combine it with something you always wanted to try. (I went to my very first art workshop last year at an art gallery. I was fucking anxious, but I still did it and felt so proud of myself afterwards.)

And I know this message has already been waaaay to long as a reply, but I just wanted you to know that I can relate, so I wanted to suggest some (hopefully) helpful things. There is always a way to turn life around, sometimes through small decisions, sometimes through bigger ones. For what it's worth, I believe in you, and if you need someone to talk to, I'm here.

I'm wishing you the best of luck for the internships and college. ♡

[keuraecray]

Everything is too much today.

My cat hasn’t been eating which means she doesn’t hydrate well being she won’t drink from a bowl. She’s lethargic and nauseous. Vet ran blood work and other tests and $300 later, said she’s perfectly fine. She still looks just as awful. I feel like she is suffering and in pain but everyone tells me to wait it out and she’ll be fine. A fat cat who’s only pleasure is gorging on literally anything that will barely eat anything is clearly not okay. I feel deep remorse thinking about how little I could do for my last cat who I may have prematurely put down. I’m miserable every day over it. And now I can’t afford to do anything but the bare minimum. I know something is deeply wrong and that she has some type of heart issues but I can’t afford anything and it makes me miserable.

I’ve been sick for years with no known cause and my sister I live with has had her own pile of issues that aren’t as straightforward and mess with her mental state. To my family its a strange mystery. To me it’s an insufferable thought always on my mind. I feel like I know the exact root cause.

I firmly believe we have a hidden mold issue causing all our health problems but everyone tells us off saying it’s not possible. My health issues started years ago and we’ve moved multiple times. But people never consider that they could be living in it themselves.

All of my health issues started when I was living in my aunts basement while I was figuring out housing (which is frequently flooded when there’s heavy rain). I was waking up at night gaping for air and went to my original family doctor who said I had anxiety and slapped some meds on me. That was my first apnea. I don’t have them severe enough to be diagnosed with sleep apnea but it is unmistakable.

I’ve always had some level of gut issues but I had always associated it with stress and nerves being things were oh so peachy as a kid. As you get older and the gut issues worsen with or without that original cause, you realize something else is up.

Fast forward to nearing the end of the pandemic. I started having severe brain fog. After countless specialist visits and meeting multiple deductibles, since getting in to specialists takes forever, I was left with no answers. We all chalked it up to long covid since I had at least one confirmed case.

The brain fog had gotten so bad while I was at work I literally felt like I had dementia. Couldn’t remember conversations I’d had with coworkers. They were starting to talk to me about it being an issue with my quality of work but they already had unreasonable expectations to begin with so I just found ways to get around it. I was miserable there and they knew it so I lost my job last month.

My coworker was studying Eastern Medicine and invited me to a student clinic where I had acupuncture at an affordable rate. I felt like I was getting better but as soon as we stopped it would all creep back up. My acupuncturist had asked me if I’d been exposed to mold. She lived through it and thought she saw the symptoms in me. I brushed it off like my family did, in part because I didn’t think it was possible and in part it was just purely denial.

I’ve looked into how to remediate on your own but can’t even afford the basic protective equipment necessary to avoid landing myself in a hospital for it. Don’t have health insurance and have been too depressed to try and apply for low/no cost insurance.

Then there’s the wildfires wrecking havoc on my lungs. There’s a gap the size of my pinky nail in my window of my bedroom so smoke gets in to the house on the bad air quality days. I stuffed a cloth and plastic bags in it with no relief. Ran our air exchange to try to filter what I could out. Filters were black with ash. I found scraps of plastic for sealing the windows in the winter months and have since taped off the window in the hopes that it will help but still feel awful on the bad days.

We have insurance that supposedly covers mold (whether its to replace belongings or to remediate I have no clue) but I’m paralyzed to do anything because we have no money or income even if insurance will help. I feel sicker and sicker each day. The only sleep I seem to get is when I pass out from exhaustion. Even before the health issues started causing me insomnia my cat wouldn’t let me sleep because she would get hangry between 4-8 am. We wound up saving an injured kitten since we didn’t want them euthanized being all the shelters are full. While my big fat cat has been sick he’s taken over in waking me on the few days I actually sleep decently.

Mold is naturally occurring and is present in every home at lower levels but I firmly believe everyone in my family has been living in stuff that’s beyond the point of “healthy”. Friends have their own families and no space so I really feel like I have nowhere else safe to live. I just can’t keep it together. I thought things were going so well when I started my last job despite the foggy brain but it seems like everything is going to hell rapidly in the last couple of months.

[onerebuplic]

Godddd I am so tired of the uncertainty and the desperation and the urgency

And then not even feeling good when I do things. Not feeling any kind of reward or relief

underlying problem? My brain has slowed down. Food doesn’t taste good. Life feels dull. It could be depression. It could be ADHD burnout from the meds. It could be Long Covid. It could be brain damage. I have no way of knowing unless I can get help, and places like Perlman and KMG are almost impossible to work with.

I think I need to do something like shrooms sooner than later but idk when because I have so much anxiety right now that I’m worried it would just make me freak out even more or get depressed even more, due to me already being stressed out.

Another underlying problem: hearing aids are degrading. I need to pick a place soon. But wherever I go, it has to last. Unless I make enough money to buy my own hearing aids in the future. But idk if I have enough confidence in my ability to make money or be savvy with my career. Idk if I’m stable enough. The longer I go without adequate hearing, the lonelier and more exhausted I get.

Another underlying problem: I feel behind because of covid but also my mistakes when it comes to school, ADHD, etc. and I get overcome with grief and regret which clouds my judgement because I don’t feel like I have anything worth fighting for, or a future worth living. It all feels pointless, like my effort isn’t worth it mathematically.

Another underlying problem: I’m afraid of never finding an employment niche. I’m already introverted, I’m already hard of hearing, I already have vision issues. I’m already unable to do most careers. I’m afraid that I’ve been blocked from career paths that make enough money for me to do the things I want, especially with the worsening job market and economy. Plus the fact that I need my own health care by November, and the medical issues I have are incredibly expensive without insurance.

Another problem: the pressure I feel from my parents, because I’ve borrowed so much money over the last year and don’t have progress to show for it. I haven’t kept a job longer than 6 months since I got here.

Similar problem: I feel a lot of resentment towards my parents and especially my mom, for being so emotionally negligent and also being so radicalized that I feel unsafe to come out to her or talk about deeper emotional issues and trauma. The constant gaslighting doesn’t help, because I need a different kind of support that they don’t know how to provide and I don’t know how to find or ask for.

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

thanks so much for the tag, @gauntletgirlie and @wowstrawberrycow!! let's see...

what's the origin of your blog title? a friend from my old job working night shift showed me an image with the caption 'I'm not an early bird, or a night owl. I'm some form of permanently exhausted exhausted pigeon.', and it encompassed my vibe so much while making the transition from working normal business hours to working overnight, that it just...stuck?

favorite fandoms: the rings of power/the hobbit/lord of the rings

OTP(s) + shipname: so this may be a bit 'cringe' or 'lame', but I've always been far more of a shipper of any OCs I've created and the canon character I've paired them with in my stories, than I have been for pre-existing 'canon' ships. as such, I feel absolutely compelled to share that my current OTP is affectionately named 'Tilbrand' (Tilda and Halbrand/Sauron from several of my WIPs for RoP). (credit for the ship name goes to @ruralnorth)

favorite color: turquoise, purple, certain shades of pink

favorite game: lord of the rings risk or lord of the rings trivial pursuit?? does that count? (literally never owned a gaming system in my life)

song stuck in your head: Indigo, Sam Barber, Avery Anna

weirdest habit/trait? lately, I can turn the plot of almost any other tv show/book...literally any of them...into a potential Rings of Power AU

hobbies: writing, reading, watching the same show over and over and over again because I'm unhinged and obsessed...😅, baking, trying new crock-pot recipes

if you work, what's your profession? pharmacist, turned quality assurance analyst for pharmacy software

if you could have any job you wish what would it be? honestly, there's still a part of me, foolish as that part may be, that still wants to be a surgeon, even though I allowed my parents to shoe-horn me into pursuing a pharmacy degree instead. given I'm 36, dealing with cancer and a multitude of doctor's appts, though, I'm thinking that one will just have to remain a dream unachieved.

something you're good at: turning the overly active imagination that I was always criticized for as a kiddo into creativity via writing, using that writing as stress-relief

something you're bad at: jumping to the worst case scenario (thanks, anxiety), falling back on self-deprecating humor far too much, insanely negative self-talk, imposter syndrome

something you love: discussing story plots with fellow writers, and hearing their ideas for their own works, in turn

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Rings of Power/The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, fanfiction, music (specifically movie soundtracks), WIPs

something you hate: hate is a rather strong word, and I feel like I stray towards potential hypocrisy here, as I've been guilty of being several of these things over the years (though I'm working towards changing this), but...judgmental people. People whose mode of operation includes self-righteous spiels to make themselves seem 'above' everyone else. Those who can talk the talk, but can't walk the walk. People who look for any reason at all to hate on something/someone. Those who refuse to live and let live, even if the actions/behavior/simple existence of whatever/whoever they're up in arms about really has no impact on their day to day life at all.

something you collect: owls. figurines, stuffies, calendars, you name it.

something you forget: that I am deserving of the very same acceptance and grace I always try to give to everyone else. that no matter how I was raised, or what events may have "confirmed" my own perceived inferiority over the years, I am a human being that deserves the same basic considerations/rights that all other human beings have on this earth. I am not 'less than', no matter how much the voice in my head tries to convince me otherwise.

what's your love language? hmm, never really thought of this one in too much depth before, since I'm pretty much a loner. but if I had to pick, I'd say quality time.

favorite movie/show: probably not a huge surprise at this point, but the entirety of The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit/The Rings of Power. comfort movies/show without question!

favorite food: nachos

favorite animal: dogs, owls

are you musical? back in the day, I was, playing the clarinet in band from 6th grade, through sophomore year in college. marching band, symphony band, and jazz band! singing is something I'll do on occasion, too, but never in front of a crowd unless they're singing too, to drown out the potential for my voice sounding horrid (to this day, I'm not sure if it is horrid or not, because I will not sing by myself in front of any audience.)

what were you like as a child? quiet, shy, awkward, more often than not lost daydreaming of whatever situation my imagination conjured for that particular moment. some people apparently thought this made me "stuck up" or just plain "weird", so they avoided me, but for those who broke through the shell, I never shut up 😅

favorite subject at school? chemistry, biology, english literature, band

least favorite subject? math

what's your best character trait? sense of humor (?) when it's not self-deprecating, tolerant (though this can be a negative, too, when it leads me to be too accepting of sub-par treatment)

what's your worst character trait? tendency to over-analyze everything, thanks to a history of dealing with gaslighting and passive aggressive behaviors, silent treatments, having to 'read the room' and 'anticipate moods' so much that it's my gut-punch reaction to the slightest shift in tone/demeanor. often trending towards the negative with this, always assuming I've "done something wrong" or that I'm "in trouble", and over-apologizing for things that really don't require apologies

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? make the day longer, or not require as much sleep. sometimes there are too many things I want/need to accomplish in the day, and not enough time to do them (preaching to the choir there, I fear)

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? it would be great to meet my grandpa (mom's side) when he was younger. we would've had so much to talk about, even then, and more time together.

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): it absolutely has to be 'All In' by @ruralnorth. I mean, all of her stories are phenomenal, but this one is just so detailed, and character driven, and beautiful, and there's already a sequel in planning stages as well!

absolutely no pressure tags: @themareverine, @ruralnorth, @bigblissandlove1, @orehuna, @oh-great-authoress, @ohno-elrond, @lady-wyrd, and anyone else who wants to join!

Get to know your Mutuals

Thanks for the tag @perlen-gold, even though I’m just an unhinged follower obsessed with your writing 🙈 I started my own chain so your original post wouldn’t get too long.

What's the origin of your blog's title? My thirst for Adar and the gauntlet kink he inspired.

Favorite Fandoms: I have a lot, but The Silmarillion/The Lord of the Rings/The Rings of Power are my main ones I always fall back on.

OTP(s) + shipname: I’m a self shipper so me + whomever I’m obsessed with (currently Melkor, Adar, and Gil-galad) but also more recently:

Melkor x Mairon (Angbang)

Adar x Celebrimbor (Silverscars)

Favorite color: Orange (also partial to purple and dark green).

Favorite game: Hero Quest (I’m not a console gamer. Though I did enjoy watching my husband play Horizon Zero Dawn).

Song stuck in your head: Dog Days (Are Over) by Florence and The Machine.

Weirdest habit/trait? Oh boy, where to begin… I make random noises, I meep like Beaker to songs, laugh at my own jokes… I’m just a weird person altogether folks.

Hobbies: Writing, visiting places of historical interest, I also used to be an avid reader but then motherhood robbed me of my energy and concentration. I listen to audiobooks more now.

If you work, what's your profession? I write scientific reports and run data tables for an Early Drug Development CRO, which is as fun as it sounds. I’m also a mother. Everything you’ve heard about motherhood is true and also a lie.

If you could have any job you wish what would it be? I would be rich enough not to need to work 🤷🏻‍♀️ or working on a petting farm would be cute.

Something you're good at: Berating myself. Encouraging others/being a cheerleader. Also writing, I hope 🙈

Something you're bad at: Most things, but especially anything requiring mathematics or physical exercise.

Something you excel at: Being a silly goose 😏thirsting over fictional characters 🙈 and raging at injustices. Erm, I think that’s about it. How tragic for me 😂

Something you love: The community I’ve found here on Tumblr 🫶🏼 period dramas, Dracula, and tattoos (I have none of my own… yet).

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: Mormonism, The Wars of the Roses, the people I love.

Something you hate: Injustice, mayonnaise, and corsets improperly portrayed in period drama.

Something you collect: Cuddly toy bats, and more characters to thirst over (I need help).

Something you forget: That motherhood is difficult so to give myself more grace.

What's your love language? I don’t adhere to love languages, but I guess genuine connection over similar interests, banter/in-jokes.

Favorite movie/show: Aaahhh don’t make me choose! It’s always changing.

Favorite food: Galaxy Cookie Crumble, Mini Eggs, Yorkshire puddings, and pizza.

Favorite animal: Bats 🦇

Are you musical? I can hold a tune and I played flute as a kid, otherwise sadly no.

What were you like as a child? Intelligent, saw everything in black and white, more artistic, more outgoing.

Favorite subject at school? History and art.

Least favorite subject? Maths and PE.

What's your best character trait? I like to think I’m kind and understanding.

What's your worst character trait? I can be so incredibly lazy.

If you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? More sleep. Always more sleep.

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet? Bram Stoker. I’d also love to meet my mum as a young woman, I think we would have had fun.

Recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):

Come by @perlen-gold (Angbang)

Of Convenience by @greenleaf4stuff (Silverscars)

Last but not least, show your favorite fanart of your favorite character(s) (please remember to credit/add links!):

Melkor/Morgoth

Adar

Gil-Galad (TROP)

No pressure tags for @greenleaf4stuff, @valar-did-me-wrong, @strifes13, @wowstrawberrycow, @iwanderbecauseimlost, @withallthatisleftofmyheart, @calmlyy-chaotiic, @margauxmara, @varda-starqueen, @saffronstories, @gingeragenda, @gracefallingart, @dwarveslikeshinythings, @whenimaunicorn, @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 and anyone else who would like to play! Sorry if I missed anyone.

[cinnaminyoons]

( LOVERBOY. )

ミ☆ he’s been working up the courage for this very moment for a long time. he can only hope you say yes.

⤷ PAIRING kth x m!reader

⤷ WORD COUNT 4.5k

⤷ TAGS model!reader, anxiety-ridden gays being dorks

⤷ REQUESTED 

taehyung x reader 😼 tete in a distress on how to propose reader

“i love you,” taehyung whispers against your lips. it’s dark in the private room, and taehyung’s over-the-phone request for candles had been kindly obliged by the staff. this week is his turn for date-planning, and he brought you all the way across seoul to a restaurant so luxurious that even he feels intimidated by it.

you chuckle, folding your arms over the table. your suit fits you so well – taehyung does his best to keep his eyes on your face, but that, too, is swoon-worthy. he feels like a teenager all over again, staring at you longingly when he thinks you’re not looking.

“you’ve said that a thousand times tonight, baby,” you murmur. “you seem stressed. are you okay?”

he shakes his head absently. after a moment, upon realising that your question had been ‘are you okay’ and not ‘are you stressed’, he bobs his head rapidly, blushing. his soft hair flops over his eyes and he sweeps it away.

“i – i’m okay. sorry. it’s just… i know i haven’t really been present in our relationship lately, and i don’t want you to think i don’t love you – i really do! – or that i’m not as invested anymore, and i just want to make sure you know that you mean the world to me.”

you place your hand over his. you’re warm, and the familiarity of your skin on his calms his racing heart. “take a deep breath,” you say, smiling gently. he does, and it’s a little shaky. “don’t fret. you’ve got your job – i’ve got mine. i understand that it’s rough at the moment, what with your new album, but you don’t have to worry that i’ll be upset if you have to reschedule or anything.”

a heavy wave of relief washes over him and he relaxes, entwining your fingers. “you’re way too good to me, hyung.”

the golden candlelight flickers over your features. with the dark room and your black suit, the outline of you blends well into the shadows. what is visible is bathed in a soft glow, perpetually shifting over the planes of your face and reflecting in your eyes.

it’s unbelievable how good-looking you are, making every second of your day a photoshoot.

“you deserve everything good, my love. if i can be a part of that, however small,” your eyes soften, “then i am happy.”

he’s going to cry. he’s going to wail like a baby in this restaurant because he’s madly in love with you and can’t find the right words to express it.

maybe you notice how tightly he’s gripping your hand. you engulf his hand in both of yours, rubbing small circles into the back of his palm, and smile. “thank you for tonight, tae. it was wonderful.”

“i-it wasn’t much,” he mumbles, scratching his ear. “but i’m relieved it’s okay.”

you laugh quietly. the restaurant has a live band playing something jazzy outside, and though it’s slightly muffled, it provides a nice backdrop to your words. “relieved? you’re nervous tonight. seriously – what’s up?”

taehyung swallows. the small velvet box weighs like lead in his jacket, and he’s sharply aware of it with every movement he makes. “it’s just that,” he laughs, a little embarrassed, “you’re way out of my league.”

“out of – tae, baby.” you sigh, but you’re smiling, eyes patient and kind. “how many years have we been dating?”

“uh, five years this december.” it sounds like a long time when he says it aloud. it doesn’t feel like it, though – if you see each other once a week, fortune is on your side.

“and how long have we known each other?”

he has to think and count. “nine.”

“so, am i really out of your league?”

“i... guess not,” he yields. he glances over the empty plates and bowls. he’s finished off his fancy cola spider, which he’d taken from what was basically the kids’ menu.

“see? you’re getting worked up over nothing.” you lean back, taking your hands away – to taehyung’s disappointment – and smiling. “i think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you? i’ll drive.”

taehyung nods and shuffles along the booth’s seat. he pulls on a black face mask, following your motions, and gratefully takes your hand as you gently pull him up and out of the room. it doesn’t do a lot if someone’s staring you in the face, but it does help bored eyes slide off of you. taehyung plays at hauteur next to you, matching the environment, and his eyes twinkle up at you above his mask.

the restaurant caters to people of wealth. these people, often followed and reported on by various journalists or news outlets, have made it necessary for a second entrance to lead straight to a parking lot for an unobstructed getaway.

after taehyung pays and you escape the dignified eyes of others, you’re both chasing each other down the steps and across the underground car park. you’re like children again, running around the playground and muffling your laughter as the other passes by your hiding spot, totally unaware.

the moment your attention lapses, drawn by the sound of an aggressive car honk above, taehyung smirks and slips behind a concrete pillar, pressing his back flat against it. he stays perfectly still for a moment as you call out his name.

after a short silence, taehyung dares a peek around the corner. you’re not there anymore. he glances around, puzzled, and twists back against the pillar—

“gotcha.”

two strong arms wrap around him and quite literally sweep him off his feet. he lets out a shockingly high-pitched squeak and chains himself to your neck with his arms as you bounce him higher, carrying him bridal style.

“you’re ridiculous,” taehyung coughs out, doing an awful job at hiding his giggles. “put me down! right now. what if someone sees?”

you shift him in your arms as you wander down the aisles of flashy cars. he wriggles in defiance and your grip tightens considerably on his shoulder and thigh. “don’t,” you warn, “i’ll drop you. it’s actually very hard doing this while looking attractive.”

he huffs and rests his head on your shoulder, gazing up at your side-profile. “uh-huh. i’m not sixteen anymore.”

“yet you’re still just as cute.” you wink down at him, flicking your head in an exaggerated imitation of the heart-throb character in a teen drama.

he kicks his legs out and pushes his lower lip out. “you’re just saying that ‘cause we’re together. i was so awkward around you.”

“it was an adorable awkward, my love. it’s always fun poking you.” you set him down in front of the dark blue car, sliding your hand into his back pocket.

he flushes when you pull him close. his chain earrings sway with the motion of his head as he turns his face into your neck. you play with them, letting them run like stream water over your fingers, and he whines softly as you give them a little tug.

“what’s that, baby?” you coo. your voice rumbles in your chest and taehyung presses closer to feel more of it. it’s been too long since he last saw you.

just as he thinks you’re about to do something, you move away, whistling innocently with the car keys in hand. taehyung takes several breaths to calm himself, trying to bring himself down to a calmer simmer.

he crosses his arms as the car’s headlights flash and it beeps, unlocked. “you’re awful.”

“awfully in love with you,” you tease, pulling open the driver’s door. “now get in, loser. we’re going to the movies.”

—

taehyung’s going to see you today, and he’s freaking out.

the birds outside his bedroom window mock him with their cheerful, happy-go-lucky chirping. he had let himself sleep in for a little bit, as it is the weekend and his day off, after all.

it’s been over two months since taehyung first held the little black box in his hands. he remembers turning it over in his hands, admiring the velvety sheen of it under the jeweller’s white ceiling lights.

while he had certainly been nervous at that time, that’s nothing to what he currently feels. back then, he was tingly, excited and nervous and bouncing on his toes, the kind of nervousness he felt before concerts.

as always, there’s a warm, anticipatory fluttering in his belly that he gets just before meeting up with you. but today, some terribly hyperactive frogs have joined the butterflies. 

he has to sit down on top of the toilet lid, he gets so dizzy. he just sits in his bathroom, staring at his reflection – bedhead and all – and has a mild crisis.

is it too soon?

i’m going to make a fool out of myself.

i’m going to choke and then i’ll suffocate and then i’ll die and then i’ll never be able to tell him.

but there’s been one spectacularly determined thought that he can’t kick out of his head, no matter how much he tries to. he has tried distracting himself with other tasks, and when that didn’t work, he did his best to logically step himself through it, should it actually happen.

you’re kind. you would never make him feel stupid. you and taehyung have been going strong for half a decade – he feels very old, all of a sudden – and this would be on anybody’s mind. you shouldn’t be surprised by it, even in the worst-case scenario.

he hopes it really won’t come to that.

“you want to know how much he loves you?” yoongi once asked when taehyung confided in him about his worries. “he doesn’t let you near the frying pan because he doesn’t want the oil to pop on you.”

such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. and yet, that’s the memory that comes into his head when he’s anxious about where he stands with you.

an hour and a lot of pacing later, he arrives on your doorstep. he knocks – tap, tap-tap-tap, tap-tap – and pushes his hands deep into the pockets of his coat pockets. the long brown coat is lined in cream-coloured sherpa fleece.

the door flings open. there you are, wearing a burgundy turtleneck and socks with pineapples on them, accessorised with a certain exasperated fondness in your gaze. “there you are, my love. you’re late.”

“ah,” he says cleverly. “good evening. i couldn’t find anything nice to wear.”

you laugh and wave him in, moving aside. he bounces up the steps and kicks his shoes off as you shut the door. “your wardrobe is bigger than my bedroom. what’s in it? bedsheets?”

“actually, most of it’s your stuff.”

you take his coat and hang it up. “and what’s so bad about my clothes, huh?”

“nothing! only, they – they’re unique.”

“mhm.”

he drops his head on your shoulder. he feels your laughter more than he hears it. “i don’t want anybody noticing how similar our clothes are.”

you place your hand on the small of his back and guide him further into your home. “if anyone asks about it, you can just say you admire my tastes. imitation is the highest form of flattery, and whatnot.”

he shrugs. he shakes his head and stops you in the kitchen, lacing his fingers around the back of your neck. “you know, your impeccable taste extends to more than just your clothes.”

you place your hands on his waist instinctively. the comforting weight pulls a soft sigh out of him. “oh? what else, then?”

“well,” he hums, “your taste in men is pretty good.”

you roll your eyes and push him away, the sound of his laughter ringing out in your cosy home. “you’re insufferable,” you call over your shoulder.

“you love me for it,” he says through a giant smile, his eyes warm like melted chocolate. he follows you, bringing plates of food to the table. the savoury scent and rich spices make his mouth water.

“no peeking,” you say without looking, setting a few side dishes down.

hastily, taehyung lowers the dish to chest level. “i wasn’t peeking.”

you grin and reach for it across the corner of the dining table. “i hope you’re not lying to me, love. i’d be very upset if you were.”

he makes a noncommittal noise in his throat.

“come,” you say gently, pulling out a chair. “sit. it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other.”

he slides into the chair, pausing only momentarily to peck your lips. that little gesture says for him what he struggles to.

it isn’t that he doesn’t want to say it – he would scream it from rooftops if he could – but it’s the actual wording part that he has difficulty with. he doesn’t quite know how to tell you that holding your hand makes him feel like a sparrow flying among cotton-candy clouds, or that he purposely hides the extra pillows for he has an excuse to hold you while he falls asleep.

when you join him at the table, he notices how all the dishes are crowded in front of him. he pushes them closer to the midpoint between you, only for you to push them back towards him. “hyung, you don’t have to do that.”

“what if you can’t reach?”

he pouts. he says, “i don’t have tiny little t-rex arms, honey.”

“just eat,” you tell him. he does, with minimal complaining. as much as he’d like to protest, the food smells so delicious it has his heart speeding up in anticipation.

he opens up the main dish, peering under the lid, and his entire face lights up like a child on their birthday. in the blink of an eye, he’s shovelling glass noodles in his mouth, mumbling i love you so much around vegetables and meat.

it can be assumed that he’s talking to you, but with his expression, he could just as easily be talking to the noodles. either way, it’s a win for you.

you take a moment to watch him eat with a soft smile. dinner dates are a common choice for both of you – especially when you’ve got busy schedules. neither of you wants to delay dates because there’s not enough time, so you take advantage of meals to see each other, even if it’s just for twenty minutes.

besides, taehyung’s adorable when he eats good food. you’ve perfected your japchae recipe just for him – and if you’re ever cooking when he pops in, he stares at the skillet like it’ll disappear if he blinks. if you tease him about it – and you always do – he’ll get all shy and bury his face in your back, stepping up onto his toes to look down over your shoulder with a face heated by the blue fire of the stove.

dinner goes smoothly. you chat about your days, memorable encounters with strangers, and how big your potted plants are getting. it sounds so mundane and ordinary yet makes taehyung’s heart swell with affection.

maybe it’s because joking over the dinner table isn’t something that's routine for the two of you. it’s a lull between verses, a breath between one line and the next. if he could, he’d soak up moments like this forever.

the bowls lay empty, stacked in the sink, and yet you’re both still hungry. the last fading rays of the sun breach the kitchen windows as he presses his lips to yours, quick and light – once, twice. then deeper, for longer, until he’s gasping for air, lips rosy and kiss-swollen when he pulls back.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he whispers. rebellious strands of hair frame your face, lit up in a blinding gold. it softens the sharp glint in your eyes, the angle of your cheekbones – both beautiful like a knife’s edge.

your hand slips from cupping his cheek to balanced on his shoulder, thumb resting in the dip between his collarbones. you say teasingly, “then you should be happy you’ve got me, hm?”

he is. he is happy.

—

the morning is heralded in by pale sunlight streaming into his eyes. his brow furrows and he sinks his face deeper into his pillow. it’s warm, and firm. his eyes crack open blearily.

unusually, he’s woken before you. his pillow turns out to be your torso. his head rests on the junction between the arches of your lowest ribs, that place of perfect ease as you sleep, becoming a broad, slight concavity when you breathe in.

your warm palm rests on the round of his shoulder. you’re curved comfortably, temple resting on the other arm thrown across the pillows. taehyung, tucked into you, turns you both into a sort of capital t-shape.

he likes to watch you. it sounds kind of creepy, now that he thinks about it, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. he just loves basking in the knowledge that you’re his.

he glances at the clock on the wall. after a moment of calibrating his sleepy mind and blinking the blurriness from his eyes, he notes that it’s nearly half-past ten.

taehyung falls gently back to your stomach, exhaling softly as he closes his eyes again. he’s no longer tired – the sun has gained its strength, shining through the gap in the drawn curtains – but he delays getting up. his lashes graze your skin as he blinks, tracing the dips between pads of muscle with a touch as light as an artist’s brush.

on the bedside drawer, your phone buzzes. taehyung lifts his head. he stretches up and over your body and flips your phone upright, resting the bottom edge on the wood. after entering your password – it’s the day he confessed to you – he briefly scans the email.

he huffs and shuts off the phone, letting it drop back to the drawer. he rests his temple against your shoulder, the curve of his nose settled against the side of your neck. slowly, his fingers creep towards your gently-curled hand, sliding closer until his knuckles sit between each of yours, soft palms pressed close together.

it’s a humming sort of heat, he muses as he links your fingers together. despite the stillness of your body, life thrums in your veins, right there under your skin.

your chest rises and holds for a moment – you stir awake.

taehyung smiles softly. “good morning, honey.”

“mornin’,” you mumble, letting out a loose exhale. “time?”

“ten-thirty. someone’s contacted you for business.”

“ah… who?”

“vogue.” he laughs at your sigh. “what’s wrong now?”

you shake your head. “you wouldn’t mention it if it didn’t have something to do with you.”

he fakes offence. “oh, am i not allowed to take an interest in my favourite hyung’s life?” he settles back down, closing his eyes. he hums as you close your hand around his, lifting it up towards the sun. “it’ll mess with our dates. they want to fly you out for a whole week, and i’ll be touring right after it.”

your hand tightens on his. “that’s alright. we’ll enjoy the time we have now and make up for it afterwards. whose turn is it?”

“yours.”

“i’ll take you on a romantic trip to the aquarium. what do you say?”

chuckling softly, he gazes at your entwined hands, stretching his fingers out. the pink flesh glows as the light streams straight to the bone. “hyung?”

“hm?” you admire how his fingers slot so perfectly between yours.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, tae. never forget that.”

he smiles, gazing up at your face through his lashes. “i won’t. but you know what i have forgotten?”

you frown. “what?”

“i was supposed to make breakfast today.”

you fall back into your pillow and it puffs up around your head. “oh, love, i thought it was something serious. hey, it’s not that late. you can still make brunch.”

he rolls onto his back, settling against your chest. he says cheerfully, “then i hope you’re alright with waffles. we don’t have a waffle-maker in the dorms – sacrilegious, i know, right? – so i’m going to abuse yours.”

“i have a brownie box mix somewhere, i think,” you offer, “want to stick that in there, too?”

“we’re totally trying it.” taehyung rolls over again with a sleepy groan, pulling himself up. the white sheets pool around his thighs as he props himself up on one arm, gazing down at you with soft brown eyes. “wanna get up now?”

you can’t take your eyes off him. he’s a marble statue of a greek god. the sheets cover just enough to allow for modesty, twisted prettily around his hips. his calves are carved of muscle, and his lean torso is twisted so that the line of his shoulders follows the line of his legs – an artist’s muse. his hair is a complete mess, sticking out in every direction, and the even glow of the morning sun falls on his ankles so beautifully.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he mumbles shyly, tucking his feet closer to his body.

“marry me.”

his breath sticks in his throat as he stares at you, eyes growing round like dinner plates. his startled gaze follows you as you sit up and dunk a hand into the drawer beside you.

there’s a little red velvet box in your palm and your hands are shaky as they open it, revealing a silver band studded with a diamond in the centre, glittering in the light.

“would you do me the honour…” you swallow. this is not the way you planned for it to go, but it’s going, and you can’t stop. “of making me the happiest man in the universe?”

taehyung’s world shrinks suddenly to this very moment. nothing else matters but the way you search his face for a reaction, a response.

taehyung scrambles off the bed in just his boxers and dashes towards his jacket. he isn’t gone for very long, not letting you drown in embarrassment and fear, before he comes skidding back into your bedroom, dropping to one knee with a black box in his hand.

“you beat me to it,” he chokes out, tears gathering on his lashline. “i’ve been stressing about this for months and you beat me to it.”

“t-tae…”

“i even prepared a speech, you know?” your shape on the bed is blurring. he’s crying. you’re crying. you’re both laughing through it. “i – i was gonna tell you how every day together you make me fall in love with you all over again, a-and about how i want to kiss you for new year’s for the rest of our lives. i was going to be all s-suave and smooth, too…”

he clears his throat, trying his damnedest to steady his voice. he raises the box higher, the shining ring catching the light. “will you marry me?”

you’re nodding your head rapidly, taehyung’s desperately asking yes? is that a yes?, and then you’re both all over each other, clutching the other so tight the skin dips under white fingertips. he’s on your lap, arms and legs wrapped around you like a koala, and at this point he’s sobbing into your shoulder, relief crashing into him as real and vivid as a tsunami.

only once the tears turn to laughter, and the laughter turns to flushed, loving smiles, do you pull away. his cheeks are puffy and pink.

“hey,” you say with a breathless laugh, resting your temples together. “you still haven’t answered my proposal.”

he giggles, a little delirious with joy, and nods. he squeezes your shoulders. “yes! yes, i’ll marry you.”

your smile brightens, if possible. he sits back, still in your lap, and both of you pick up your dropped boxes. “how do we do this?” he asks softly.

“well, i proposed first, so i’ll give the ring first.” 

he holds out his left hand, fingers splayed delicately outward, and bites his lip in a partial attempt to stop smiling so widely. it’s beginning to ache a little, but if he’s hurting because he’s so overwhelmed with happiness, it can’t be all that bad.

you take his hand – it feels so surreal – and slide the silver ring onto his finger against his knuckle. it sits there, the sun flaring off of the diamond’s faceted faces, and declares your love for him as loud as possible.

it’s a miracle nobody’s really caught on to your relationship yet. sure, there’ve been rumours and grainy zoomed-in pictures circulating in corners of the internet for years, but nothing substantial. now, however, with this glowing proclamation, taehyung is blissfully taken.

he slips the ring he chose for you onto your left hand, his fingers lingering as he brushes over your matching silver bands in awe. it feels like a dream, happening so quickly and without warning. 

you both had the same kind of idea concerning rings – in such busy, active lives, you can’t afford to have it catching on things. while the two have diamonds embedded in them, neither have sharp edges sticking out. they’re bold, with thick bands, and they certainly aren’t meant for anything secretive. they’re there, they’re loud, and so incredibly proud.

“do i have the right to call you ‘hubby’ now?” taehyung asks, his voice a little wobbly.

“yeah, i think you do—” you chuckle “—hubby.”

he gasps abruptly, eyes flying open as he stares at you. “oh – oh, we have to plan a wedding! we have to invite our families, and the members, and get to taste a million cakes and wines and we’ll have a little cake-topper with the two of us and—”

“baby.”

“we have to choose outfits – i’ve always wanted to walk down the aisle, can i have a cape? hyung, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve wanted to marry you, oh, i think i’m going to cry again—”

“my love.” you cup his face in your hands – gently, but firmly. “let’s not get too ahead with ourselves. how about after your tour? we can stress about the balloon colours and flower types after that, yeah?”

he sniffles, holding your wrists loosely. “o-okay.” after a moment, he whispers hopefully, “so, can i wear a cape?”

you laugh, nodding and pressing your forehead to his collar. taehyung smiles broadly at the sound, his body light and floaty and tingly all over with insurmountable joy. life won’t be easy after this – for he refuses to hide anymore – and people will surely object, but he swears – he swears on this with everything he has – that as long as he can come home to you at the end of the day, he would do it all one thousand times over.

[fuckedupworldinnit]

Once again...again

It is currently 2320. I work at a terrible job that has caused me horrible mental and physical health issues. I have to work at 0430 tomorrow morning, and am no where near sleep. I have two beautiful cats on my bed at the moment, and the apartment I live in is my own. I have sunk 3 years in working random full time jobs to make money, leaving me alone and hopeless. I am so tired.

When you take a teenager out of a situation she didn’t think she’d live to see the end of, you get me: a scared shitless adult who takes any and all advice from everyone because I’ve been told all my life my thoughts and ideas are stupid and wrong. You get anger, loneliness, addiction, and fear. I am so tired of feeling like dirt.

I can’t stress enough how horrible it’s been working for Starbucks. I have developed drug addiction issues, sleep problems, gained a good amount of weight, and got bullied for the first time in my life. I am in the process of looking for another job, and it’s taking forever it feels like. I am so emotionally and mentally drained from having my balls tied on a leash for nearly 2 years working for that company. I’m so tired of being pushed around and used.

I feel as though I am 35 years old. I kick myself for not knowing how to do things that I shouldn’t know at my age, and I am freaking out that I don’t have a career yet, even though I have no business having a fully fledged career at 21 years old. I am so tired of hating myself.

For the past 6 years, I have been struggling with depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, and body dysmorphia. I have been told by pretty much every single person that it won’t last, and I have much to look forward to. I believed them, and lived to tell this story. Nothing has gotten all that better. The problems I face now are different, that’s true, but the consequences are far greater to the problems I have now. I have gotten more scars OUT of high school compared to when I was in it, and let me just say, that is a feat among feats (57 cigarette burns kind of feat, to be exact). I have made no friends, no real people to talk to, and still cope with imaginary friends I made in middle school. I have had 6 therapists, 5 jobs, the same bug-infested crime-ridden apartment for 3 years, 2 different types of medication, and no relief. I’m tired of being tired.

It has gotten so difficult to keep going, I had to offer myself an ultimatum: If life has not improved by the time I turn 30, I can kill myself.

So, to everyone who said I was gonna get better: Go fuck yourself. Life is a chronic condition we all have to deal with, and none of us are feeling any better than before. 

Fucked up world, isn’t it?

[harbouredsoulss]

Exit Wound

Authors Note: I need to preface this by saying I am not a medical professional. Have I watched Grey’s Anatomy? Yes. That is where my medical knowledge comes from, which says a lot 😂 Also I was ready to scrap this because ~ anxiety loves telling us we shit at things ~ but I decided against it. I had already written too much to just scrap it!

I really enjoyed writing this, though I did NOT love putting my EZ boy through that but he’s pretty tough so... Here is to my first EZ fic!

Also, quick side note, there is going to be a part two to this! This part was setting it all up for some EZ fluff! Keep an eye out for part 2! If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Mayan or all of my fics just let me know 🥰

I really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞

Part 2 available here !

Masterlist

Ez Reyes x [OC] Amalia 

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing. 

Summary:  EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life.

________________________

There are some things that should just never be seen, and this, standing here in the living room, watching the love of your life bleeding out on your couch, was one of them. Amalia knew she had to remain calm, she was the only one who could keep him alive. That and the many pieces of gauze pressed against his stomach. It didn’t stop the pounding of her heart, loud in her ears as she took in her lover before her. His body pale, and clammy. 

All her years of medical training hit her hard and fast. It made her assess the situation clearly and calmly. Though it wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts that arrived. Reminding her of how poorly this could end, of whose life was at stake if this all went badly. 

Gilly had pieces of gauze pressed against the wound, keeping steady pressure. Angel was rustling through her linen cupboard, pulling out all the towels Amalia and EZ owned. Coco trailed behind her as she made her way into her closet to grab a first-aid kit. 

“Did you see an exit wound?” She asked looking up at him as she went through the kit making sure everything she needed was there.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as she heard EZ in the living room continuing to moan as Gilly kept pressure on the wound. She tried to think of everything they had in the house at hand that could help, comparing that with what they had already grabbed. Coco looked at her, uncertainty on his face as he took in her question. 

“I didn’t look. Fuck. My bad. We were just trying to get out of there.” 

She gripped the med-kit and stormed passed Coco trying to remain level-headed. She knew it wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault. They were all just trying to get out of there alive. The last thing on their mind would have been to assess his wounds. They weren’t doctors. 

Neither are you, you’re just a nurse, she thought bitterly, you can’t do this. He’ll die.

Amalia stopped before the couch, before he could see she had come back into the living room. He was in so much pain, would he even notice? Every second counted but she couldn’t move. Could I really do this? She asked herself. 

Gilly looked up at her, noticing the first-aid kit in her hand. 

Tilting his head towards the kit he asked, “That everything you’ll need?”

I can do this. They believe I can do this. I have to.

“It should be, so long as the bullet and any fragments aren’t stuck inside.”

Angel was back dumping the linen he found on the coffee table beside the couch. He was frantic trying to arrange everything. Placing the med-kit on top she turned towards EZ and took his pulse. It was weak. 

“We need to hurry,” turning back to Angel she begun to give orders, “I need you to lift the top half of his body. I need to make sure there’s an exit wound.”

Angel didn’t even blink, he went towards his injured brother and did as she requested. A wail of pain escaped EZ as he was moved. She tried to keep the cringe from her face as she heard his agony. Leaning forward she did her best to be quick when trying to get a good look at it. It had gone straight through. 

Relief pooled through her body. She could have cried.

“Great, perfect! Okay Angel you can put him down now, slowly, please.”

Gilly’s hands were still on the wound, the gauze oozing red. Quickly she grabbed more, moving his hands she pressed them on top. 

“Coco, I need you to go to the kitchen. There should be a big bottle of hand sanitiser there. The medical grade kind. I need to sterilize my hands.”

She turned back to face EZ whose eyes were half closed, struggling to stay awake. She needed him to stay awake. She needed him to live.

“Angel, get some vodka, whiskey – anything. He needs something for the pain. We don’t have time for any drugs to kick in.”

EZ tried to respond, his voice a mere whisper no one could make out. Angel didn’t wait to hear what he had to say; he had disappeared. Reappearing at the same time as Coco. 

“Yo what’s with all the disinfectant? I couldn’t tell which one you needed so I grabbed a few.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Thanking him, she took one of the bottles and began pouring it all over her hands.  

“The stitches probably won’t stay. The wound is too deep. Staples would probably be better. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” She groaned, fear settling in the pit of her stomach as she took in the materials, she would be using to seal his wound. 

“You know why,” she looked up, alarmed to hear EZ speaking so clearly, albeit he still sounded out-of-sorts, “you’ve got this baby.”

“Okay.” She whispered, gripping his hand, smiling at him weakly.

Suturing his injuries took time. In the beginning, when she weaved the first bit of material through his flesh, every wince or groan that left his mouth always made her look up in fear. But after a while she trained herself to stop. She knew if she wanted to keep him alive, she needed to work quickly. Angel and Coco kept him stable. Every attempt he made to move was thwarted by his brothers keeping him in position, not that his attempts were intentional. Gilly stood nearby offering his assistance when it came to removing the blood-soaked towels and gauze. She was grateful for his help.

When she was done EZ was asleep breathing slowly and softly. He had passed out towards the end when the final sutures were put into place. There was blood everywhere, on her arms, hands. Amalia was soaked in it. 

Gilly took the needle from her hands and placed it on the table beside her. He smiled at her weakly, offering words of praise at her successful attempt at keeping her lover alive. Angel stepped away from his brother and made his way towards her, hand reaching out to grip her shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“You did good hermana. He’ll be okay.” 

“He’ll be okay,” she repeated, “He’ll be okay.” 

She repeated those words in her mind over and over again, willing herself to keep the tears at bay as exhaustion beat down on her.

 ________________________

It was two hours later when Coco and Gilly left, leaving Amalia with Angel, and EZ who was still passed out on the couch. She had showered and cleaned up as much as she could. She was now kneeled beside EZ, a wash clothing hand and a bucket beside her to clean up the blood caked on his skin. 

“You should get some sleep,” Angel whispered, coming up beside her “I can watch him for a bit.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

Amalia looked up at him and tilted her head towards the kitchen, indicating she wanted to talk. The house was quiet now, the sounds of EZ’s voice shrouded with pain gone. Though they still haunted her thoughts. She made her way to the kitchen, leaning against the sink where blood-soaked rags and gauze were dumped in a pile. 

“He’s going to need more pain meds, and antibiotics to avoid infection. I should head to the hospital. See if I can get a script.” She said, voice wavering slightly. The adrenaline was slowly escaping her body leaving her shaky. 

“You could lose your job for that.”

“I don’t have much of a choice Angel, I’m not going to let him be in pain or let him die from infection.”

Her eyes were trained on the blood that had soaked into the material used to stop EZ bleeding. There was so much blood. She looked away, fighting the riot in her stomach. She turned towards Angel who was looking at her nervously. He was worried about her.

“The club has a guy for this stuff. Normally when we’re injured, we go to him but we had no time, EZ would have bled out in the van had we tried to get him there. I can get Coco and Gilly to go out and get some drugs. Ez wouldn’t want you to jeopardise you job.”

She nodded her head. She trusted Angel, the club, their judgement. Sighing, she rubbed her hands against her face, begging the stress to leave her body as she massaged her temples. 

“Okay… I just need him to not die Angel. He’s the love of my life.”

Tag List: @appropriate-writers-name​

Part Two is here

[sparrow-flies-south]

Forget-Me-Not

Pairings: Thomas & Virgil Summary: It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Virgil loses his memory. Thomas makes sure he knows just how much things have changed. Warnings: Amnesia Notes: Written for Virgil's birthday, except a couple of days late because I forgot I had this idea until last night

Thank you Mishii for the title!

Masterpost  Read on AO3

Waking up anxious wasn’t exactly unheard of, but it has been a while since Thomas had done it.

He dresses slowly, racking his mind for anything he could have missed – deadlines, birthdays, something that would explain how he is feeling, but nothing comes. Virgil doesn’t even show up to berate him for anything.

So it must be just one of those days.

He spends an hour trying to work before giving up and deciding to watch Park and Recreation to try to distract himself. Janus would be proud.

He half expects Janus to pop up to bully him into taking care of himself, but he doesn’t. Neither does Logan, to explain what’s wrong, or Patton, or Roman, or even Remus.

It’s Virgil’s absence that he notices the most, though.

Because Virgil was never one to shy away from telling Thomas what he was doing wrong. And even though they get along better now, Virgil no longer lashing out at anyone who got close like a feral cat, Virgil will still do his job.

By lunch time, he decides that he’s given his sides long enough.

“Okay,” Thomas says, standing in his usual spot of the living room. “Someone want to explain what’s happening?”

It’s meant for Virgil, an obvious place for him to jump in, without the pressure that Thomas knows would scare him away. And if not Virgil, then Logan would come out, ready to break everything down into facts.

Instead, it’s Roman who appears.

Roman looks – stressed. His outfit is the same as usual, but his hair is messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it too much. He smiles sheepishly at Thomas.

“What, uh, what appears to be the problem, Thomas?” he asks, and that hesitation is another thing that’s wrong.

“I was kind of hoping you would tell me that,” Thomas says, trying not to let his growing fear show. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re, uh, busy! Very, very busy. So busy that I’m the one who came to help you.”

“Right.” Thomas doesn’t believe that one bit. “Does that have anything to do with why I’m feeling like this?”

Roman frowns, concern growing on his face. “Like what?”

Thomas sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. “Anxious,” he answers, and Roman’s face falls. “I’ve been feeling it all day. Is that- Is Virgil-”

“Virgil, uh, may have something to do with it,” Roman admits. “Not deliberately, it’s just that, well-”

“Roman, this really isn’t helping my anxiety, buddy,” Thomas says. “Just tell me. Is Virgil okay?”

Roman sighs. “Physically he’s fine. Or rather, metaphysically, perhaps. You know what I mean.”

“And mentally?”

“He, uh, well… hemayhaveamneisia.”

It takes him a moment to figure out what Roman’s saying. It takes him a moment longer to be able to process it. Virgil with amnesia, not knowing what was happening. Not knowing he was safe.

“He remembers us,” Roman continues. “Sort of. He just- doesn’t seem to remember the last few years.”

“How many years?” Thomas croaks out.

Roman pulls a face. “He doesn’t remember telling us his name.”

God, that’s- that might be even worse than Virgil not remembering anything. Because the Virgil back then had been constantly on edge, constantly lashing out because he thought he’d be attacked first if he didn’t. And Thomas and his sides- they’d just made things worse. Constantly.

“Patton is with him,” Roman adds, which helped, a bit. “Logan, too, though I think he’s focusing on finding a way to reverse this. I figured I’d be the most use up here. Virgil and I – well, I can’t imagine he wants to see me right now.”

He says this last part with a sad smile. Thomas doesn’t know what to say – Virgil loves Roman, would likely want everyone nearby when he was feeling bad. But the Virgil of before was a different story.

And right now, Roman isn’t the one Thomas can focus on.

“Is he-” Thomas takes a breath, figures out what he wants to say. “I want to see him.”

Roman hesitates. “I’m not sure if that’s-”

“Please,” Thomas says. “If he doesn’t want to, then that’s fine, but- can you please just ask?”

Roman hesitated a moment longer, and then nods, sinking down without a word. As soon as he’s gone, Thomas feels like a puppet with all its strings cut. He deflates, sinking onto the couch, and rests his head in his hands.

This is- bad. Really bad. Because Virgil clearly isn’t taking it well – if how Thomas is feeling is anything to go by, Virgil is scared, has been scared all day.

“You rang?” a voice intones from the side.

Thomas leaps to his feet. “Virgil,” he cries out in relief.

Virgil flinches, and then stiffens, as if he’s trying to hide the fact that he just flinched. He’s not wearing purple, just his old black hoodie, and the sight of it makes something in Thomas’ chest clench.

“Sorry,” Thomas says. “I can just call you Anxiety, if you want?”

Virgil hunches in on himself. “Call me whatever,” he mutters. “I don’t care.”

Which means that he does care, very deeply. Only problem is, Thomas isn’t sure which way that goes.

“Right,” Thomas says, and then he stops, because he really doesn’t know where to go from there.

Virgil fidgets. “Princey said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. I, uh, actually wanted to see how you were.”

Virgil freezes, his eyes widening. “What?”

“Roman – I mean, Prince, told me what happened,” Thomas explains.

Virgil doesn’t reply, just keeps his gaze fixed on a point across the room. His whole body is taught, like he’s ready to make a break for it at any minute.

“I’ve been feeling anxious all day,” Thomas continues. He manages a smile and adds, “Kept expecting you to show up and tell me everything I’m doing wrong.”

“Yeah, well, there’s probably something,” Virgil mutters.

Thomas huffs, feeling like he’s being hissed at by a feral kitten. He wonders how he ever felt scared of Virgil.

Virgil looks surprised at Thomas’ reaction, and the edge of his lips twitch in what Thomas can now recognise as a Virgil-smile.

“This must be scary for you,” Thomas adds, gently, and Virgil’s face shutters.

“It’s fine.”

Thomas shakes his head. “Anxiety-”

“Look, if there’s nothing else you want, I might as well go.”

“Don’t,” Thomas blurts, and Virgil goes perfectly still. “I mean, if you really want to you can, I’m not going to force you. But, uh, I’d like it if you stay.”

“You never want me around,” Virgil says suspiciously, like he thinks this might be some kind of trap, and Thomas’ heart aches.

Thomas sighs. “I know I never used to, I can’t deny that. But things have changed since then.”

“My name.”

“That was part of it, yeah, but- I guess I figured out how important you are.”

Virgil’s breath shudders, and Thomas continues, hoping he’s saying the right thing. “You were always trying to look out for me, weren’t you? I never appreciated that.”

“Right,” Virgil says thickly.

“I love you,” Thomas adds, and Virgil’s face falls.

“You can’t just-“

“Why not?” Thomas asks.

Virgil doesn’t reply, not that Thomas really expected him to. Thomas steps back and sits on the sofa, Virgil watching him like he’s a wild animal the whole time.

“I was watching Parks and Rec,” Thomas says, and Virgil nods.

“Right,” he says, “I’ll just-”

“Do you want to join me?” Thomas asks.

Virgil goes tense again, and God, Thomas really did mess up so many times, didn’t he? But then Virgil says, “Really?” in a quiet voice, and something warm inside him begins to untangle.

“Yeah,” Thomas says, and pats the sofa next to him.

It takes another moment for Virgil to sit down, still tightly wound and casting glances Thomas’ way. As the episode continues, Virgil begins to relax, just a little. Thomas finds himself edging closer to Virgil – it’s not even on purpose, just his instincts pushing him to be as close to his Sides as he can.

He doesn’t notice how close they are until his arm brushes against Virgil’s. Virgil goes tense, and then relaxes into the touch. Thomas carefully curls an arm around him, the contact making his skin buzz.

“What are you doing?” Virgil hisses.

“I can stop,” Thomas offers. “If you want.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Virgil mutters, and Thomas smothers a smile.

“You’re my friend,” Thomas explains. “I want to hug you.”

“I’m your Anxiety.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “And that’s- I love you for it.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier if I did?”

Virgil doesn’t answer, but he does lean into Thomas’ touch. Thomas chooses to count it as a victory.

“Anxiety, I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way,” Thomas says, meaning every word.

“It’s fine. I just- things are really different now?” He sounded scared, more so than Thomas had ever heard him. It was like he thought Thomas was about to pull the rug out from underneath him.

“Yeah, buddy,” Thomas says. “Things are- things are pretty great, now, actually.”

Virgil curls into Thomas, and oh, he’s crying now. Thomas holds him tighter, presses a kiss to his forehead. Eventually, the shaking subsides, but Thomas still doesn’t move away. Virgil needs him right now, which means that Thomas? Thomas isn���t going anywhere.

[destinationtoast]

In case it helps anyone to know -- if you struggle, you are not alone.

I think many people who who've followed me or known me for a long time probably think I have my shit pretty together. And in a lot of ways, my life is great, and I have done some cool stuff. But despite that, I struggle with mental health, and my brain is sometimes a terrible place to live. I've spent a bunch of time recently:

Feeling incompetent and like a complete imposter

Feeling like a failure and a disappointment

Feeling like I'll never be able to do any job well and will end up penniless and without healthcare (but still with chronic pain) and an enormous burden to everyone

Feeling like a waste of resources -- "I have so much privilege, and so many advantages, and I squander them by being useless and by not even enjoying my life"

Feeling like I'll never enjoy anything again

Feeling like life will never be anything except stress and despair

Lying awake feeling all my muscles clenched and my heart racing

Having a tremendously hard time getting out of bed

Having an even harder time attending work meetings or doing work

Not being able to eat much and experiencing nausea and digestive issues (where usually I tend to eat larger amounts than usual in response to stress, occasionally it flips and I have to force myself to eat)

Crying unpredictably, e.g. while doing dishes, and having to awkwardly explain to housemates

Feeling numb and impatient and distracted while trying to read/watch TV/browse Tumblr

Feeling So. Much. Guilt. And. Shame. Just constantly.

This is all in spite of the fact that (a) I have substantial and even recent evidence to the contrary about a lot of this stuff (e.g. I got feedback at work not that long ago that I was doing really well and could consider going up for promotion soon). And (b) I've had intense episodes of anxiety in the past and then gotten better, so I have plenty of examples of how these intense feelings don't necessarily predict the future.

Despite all this data, and despite my loved ones telling me wonderful, helpful things, I have spent a lot of time feeling viscerally quite horrible over the past few weeks (as well as for much longer stretches, at times in the past). And parts of my brain have compellingly argued that this will probably last forever.

I've dug myself partially out by talking to a doctor (though I realize healthcare is a privilege not everyone has, though we all should) and getting a short term Rx to help me relax at night enough to sleep. And signing up for therapy again. And discussing longer term possible changes to my meds (I'm on an antidepressant that had been working well till recently). And doing simple breathing exercises. And forcing myself to go do some small amount of work -- especially to make progress on a couple of the things i was most dreading, or to ask others for help with them. And forcing myself to eat and go for walks. And spending time petting kitties. And admitting to my closest peeps that I am struggling, and getting them to say that they'll still like me even if I lose my job. And remembering all those past episodes of anxiety and depression (as well as panicky bad drug trips) that I was sure would last forever at the time, but didn't. And realizing that life is long, and there are many ways to survive and find joy in this world -- and even if I thoroughly fuck up one path, there are other things to try.

I also had to do a big hard thing at work this week that was very stressful (definitely the dread of this has been one contributing factor in my recent spiral). Afterwards, I immediately felt drenched in relief, and feelings of interest and joy and hunger have started to flood back into my life again. "HAHA JUST KIDDING," the unhelpful parts of my brain suddenly said. I still would like to get to a much more stable place mentally, and I'm going to continue to work toward that, and to develop my toolbox for coping. But the sudden easing of some of the terrible sensations feels miraculous, and I'm grateful, and amazed at how fast my internal state can change. And even if maybe it turns out I feel worse again tomorrow, I'm going to enjoy today and try to remember that I did so.

So. If you're struggling, I empathize so much. And it's worth trying to keep in mind that:

Strong feelings of incompetence and/or certainty that the future will suck don't stem from reality. Our brains+bodies sometimes make us feel these things strongly even when actual evidence says otherwise.

That means anxiety/depression is like a bad drug trip. It feels very real, but you're likely to feel at least somewhat differently -- and sometimes substantially better -- if you can hang in there a while.

Just because your brain may be lying to you doesn't mean the resulting struggle isn't real. It's legit hard sometimes to do the basics of survival -- Eat. Sleep. Move the minimal amount needed to get food & water, go to the bathroom, etc. When you're finding those things hard, you're ill. And you deserve time off and self care and a trip to the doctor, if you can manage any of that. If you can't? If you're taking care of others/working or going to school/doing anything else on top of being ill? You're a superhero. I hope you can get others to help take some of your duties for a bit, or to help you book a doctor's/therapist's appointment, or to at least listen and sympathize and send you cute animal pics or memes.

Other people who may appear to have their shit together may not. Many of them are going through big struggles of their own.

The pandemic & state of the world right now are making things much harder for so many people. My doctor (general practitioner) told me that nobody she's seen in the past year is doing that great mentally, and the number of people having acute mental health issues has skyrocketed. Be as kind and forgiving toward yourself as you can manage (in general, and even more so now).

Good luck. Hang in there as best you can. I'm rooting for you. 💗

(Feel free to reblog or to reply, but I may not have energy to respond to comments... responding is hard right now.)