#fuck up and everything but i'll never be anything you ever want me to be!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT MR THE NATIONAL !!!!!!!

[deathbxnny]

Can you do how the arcane characters would react to you having a Panic attack/panick attacks

Arcane characters reacting to you having a panic attack! | Caitlyn, Sevika, Jinx, Vi x Gn!Reader

Thank you for your request, Anon! I absolutely loved writing this, so I hope you'll enjoy it!<33

Content: Panic attacks, fluff, swearing, established relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAITLYN

Her first instinct is to immideatly take you somewhere safe and private when she notices the panic attack approaching. She has very good intuition and has observed you for long enough to know your cues and signs, but sometimes even her own senses about you fail her during acute attacks that come out of nowhere. This doesn't mean that you can't rely on her to take care of you anyway.

"Hey, hey... let's breathe together, okay? Alright. Deep breathe in... hold it... and now release slowly... good job, let's do it again."

She's very quick to react to your needs and usually tries to regulate your breathing first before anything else, as that's how she learned to deal with them in her medical training. Caitlyn will also try and keep some distance in between you two in case you need space and only come closer once you're ready for that. She's very gentle and patient, as she soothes away your fears and worries.

Later on, she'll gently hold you and spoil you with nice food whilst you finally calm down and rest. Cait won't ever push you to tell her what triggered you, but will encourage you to tell her how she can help you better next time. Something she'll probably write down somewhere for future reference for better efficiency.

》SEVIKA

The first time it happens to you around her, she'll admittedly be a little surprised. It's not like she hadn't seen panic attacks before, but she simply just never had to deal with them before. With that said, her first instinct is to wonder if someone had bothered you and, if so, how quick she can beat them up for hurting you like this. The last thing she wants is for someone to ruin that beautiful smile of yours, and the sight of you suffering like that makes her feel uneasy.

"Alright, tell me what you need, and I'll do it for you right now. I just... fuck, tell me how to help you, sweetheart."

Sevika will lean down to your level after also taking you somewhere private so that she can let her guard down in peace and focus on you. She's not good at comforting people no matter who you are, and she's certainly also not the most affectionate person out there. But she knows to keep her distance and focus on what you need from her in that moment. Your hyperventilating and short breaths worry her, but that's nothing she can't handle with some direction from you.

After the panic attack blows over, she'll demand a detailed list of what exactly she should do better next time. She doesn't like being unprepared, especially when it comes to your care and well-being.

》JINX

She has memorized absolutely everything about you and is the first person to notice when a panic attack is coming up, which makes her the best helper out there at that moment. Jinx immideatly springs into action and brings you to her hideout, where she knows things are safe and sound. No one can hurt you here, especially not with her around. She'll sit on the ground with you and take your hands in her own carefully. The girl doesn't make any sudden moves and just observes every reaction you make very closely, practically analyzing them to know what to do next. And her voice would be so calm and soothing whilst she speaks.

"It's alright, cuddlebug. No one's laying a hand on ya whilst I'm here... so let's just breathe together."

Jinx doesn't want you to feel alone whilst you're going through this and will be right there with you until the last of your tears have been shed. Afterward, she'll either cuddle you to sleep or get you something nice to eat. Either way, you're being treated like royalty by her, just because she doesn't want you to feel like she did when she still had to suffer through everything all on her own. Having you here is a blessing, and taking care of you was a way to pay you back for it.

》VI

Despite what people may think, Vi's intuition about other people has never failed her. She always feels so deeply for others. It isn't all too surprising when she is quick to notice your mood shifting drastically out of nowhere. Once the panic attacks start, she'll have enough past experiences to take care of you as well as she can. It may not always be perfect due to her inability to express her love and affection all too well in moments of panic, but she'll still pull through for you. Getting you out of danger and into a more secluded area, she'll wrap her jacket around your shoulders and try soothing your quick breathing.

"Hey, hey, hey, let's calm down, okay? I'm right here. Nothing can hurt you."

She may honestly slightly panic herself, especially as seeing you so distraught messes with her own emotions, too. Vi hates to see you suffer, and the last thing she wants is for you to potentially get hurt if you don't calm down.

Vi will most likely ask you what she can do better next time as well, since she secretly feels a bit disappointed in herself for not being able to do more for you. But she's open to learning how to be perfect for you next time, that's for sure.

[zepskies]

Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!

Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!

Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.

Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):

What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self

"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.

"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.

Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."

Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."

Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.

"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"

Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.

"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.

Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"

Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.

No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.

"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."

Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.

Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."

"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."

Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.

"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.

Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.

"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.

Ben levels a pointed finger at him.

"All you need to do, is protect it."

AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚

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Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List:

(I've paired this down from the old list that seemed to have a lot of people/blogs that are no longer active.)

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2

@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91

@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303

@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas

@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510

@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum

@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters

@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess

@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland

@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina

@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn

@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic

@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77

@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Feels Like Home

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: Bucky's world is filled with a lot of blood, death, and danger. But when he's with you, everything is filled with love, light, and gentleness. It's a feeling he didn't know he craved until he met you.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky at home was a stark contrast to how he was out on the streets of Brooklyn. To the outside world, he was James Barnes, the fearsome head of the Barnes Family, the leading crime family in Brooklyn. But when it was just you and him, in your dingy apartment, he was your Bucky Bear, a soft man who loved to cuddle, cook you dinner, and watch rom-coms with you.

That's the Bucky you'd always see as soon as he was in your presence.

Right now though, he isn't your Bucky Bear. He's James Barnes and he's got death on his mind. In the shadows of the alleyway, you can see how he's pointing his gun at the man in front of him.

"You've given me excuse after excuse, Dalton. I'm sick of it. Where's my money?" he grips the man by the caller of his shirt, and pulls him in closer, the barrel of the gun staring him in the face.

"Buck," Sam murmurs Bucky's name.

You watch as Bucky looks to Sam and when Sam nods in your direction, Bucky follows. His eyes widen, "Sweetheart." He immediately pockets his gun and rush over to you.

"What're you doing out so late at night?"

Your dog, Taffy, jumps at Bucky's legs when he gets close. Bucky leans down and scratches the corgi behind her ears, "Hiya, girl."

"She had a lot of energy when I got home from work. So I figured a walk around the block would be good for her." Your eyes dart to Sam and the man in the alleyway, "Is everything okay?"

Bucky looks over his shoulder and then back at you, "Yeah. Just...business." He wraps a protective arm around you, leading you away from the alley, "Wait here. I'll walk Taffy with you and we have dinner."

He moves to pull away but you grip at his wrist, "Bucky, it's fine. I can walk the neighborhood by myself. Go handle business or whatever."

Bucky continues to walk back, "Stay there." At his command, Taffy immediately sits and he chuckles, "At least she listens to me."

When he heads back to Sam and the unknown man, they exchange a few words you can't hear. The man looks at you and that pisses Bucky off.

"Don't you fucking look at her," he says, forcibly turns the man's head to look away from you.

After some low words exchanged, Bucky walks away from them, with Sam dragging the man to the other end of the alley where a car waits.

"C'mon, baby," Bucky murmurs, his arm wrapping around your waist. Taffy is happy to continue her walk, as she prances a short distance ahead of you and Bucky.

There's a weird tension between you as you walk Taffy around the block and eventually back to your apartment. You shed your jacket and shoes, unleashing Taffy, and going straight to the kitchen.

Bucky follows you, leaning against the kitchen counter, "You okay?"

You nod, "Mhm. Sorry, I just-I forget sometimes that you're..you know."

"I see."

"I've never seen that side of you, so it was a little...jarring."

"Do you...want to break up?"

You look at him with wide eyes, "What? No! Do you?"

"No, but I told you who I was from the very beginning, baby. If what I do ever puts you off, I'll completely understand if you don't want anything to do with me."

You shake your head, "Bucky, that's not it. I still want to be with you. I just forgot who you are outside of here. I forgot that's actually who you are."

It was Bucky's turn to shake his head, "Nah, baby. That's not who I am. That's who I had to become in order to survive. But here?" he points to the apartment, "This is who I really am."

You hum, "So you're really a big lovey dovey teddy bear that loves to be the little spoon, cook me dinner, and cry at rom-coms?" Bucky playfully rolls his eyes at your teasing and you continue, "Okay, really though. Does anyone else know this side of you?"

He shrugs, "Not really because I never felt super comfortable to be myself until I met you."

You scoff, "Sap."

"Only for you," he leans in and pecks your lips, "You sure you're okay? Are we okay?"

"Yeah. We're good."

Bucky pulls you in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You nuzzle your face into him, letting his scent encompass you.

You felt at home.

[sephirthoughts]

Hear me out: Weiss/Rufus for the minific thing

OH MY GOD

YES

YOU ARE A GENTLEMAN AND A SCHOLAR

NSFW under the cut

meaning explicit, no minors, 18+ only

Cocky.

That would be the word to describe him. Walking around like he owns the place, looking down his perfect little nose at everything and everyone, posh and polished and ever so pretty, dressed in white from head to toe, not a single hair out of place.

Soft.

That would be the other word. Like five-hundred thread-count sheets and down pillows. Hands like a baby's, wrapped delicately in kidskin gloves. Feet that have probably never walked on anything but the cushiest carpets. There's even a faint slick of lip balm on his plushy lips. He looks...

Delicious.

Like a steamed bun. Sweet and warm and yielding, between the teeth. The tiger's eyes are on him, watching hungrily, but with a film of languidness over their gaze—a result of the heavy sedation required, to keep him under control.

"Why is he on a throne?" the spoiled little bitch asks, with a sniff of disdain.

"The restraints on that chair are powered directly by the core of the reactor, sir," a scientist explains. "That's the only way we can keep him chained down. It, uh. Happens to look like a throne, so the Restrictors started calling him Emperor Weiss."

"You, prisoner, can you talk?"

Weiss bares his white teeth in a lazy grin. "Depends. You anyone worth talking to?"

"I'm Rufus Shinra, the Vice President of the Shinra Corporation," the brat says, with a haughty toss of his pearl-blonde head. "For all intents and purposes, I own you."

To his discomfiture, Weiss breaks into a hearty, booming laugh. "Oh, you do, do you? Well, well, well. Not every day you meet the man who owns you. Pardon me for not getting up to greet you, Mr. Vice President, I'm a little tied up."

Rufus scowls. "You're mocking me."

"Perceptive." The ice-blue eyes flicker unabashedly over his body, from head to toe and back up. "So, what do you want? Make it snappy, I haven't got all day."

"Tsviet Weiss!" a voice thunders, from the black cloaked and helmeted figure, who has remained silent till now. "Shut your fucking mouth and show the Vice President proper respect!"

Weiss sneers, but he shuts his mouth. He can't defy the Restrictors. Not yet.

"He's a wild animal," the brat says irritably. "How is he any use to me?"

"Weiss is all bark," the Restrictor rasps. "I assure you, he will be perfectly cooperative. There are more than chains keeping him in check. Isn't that right, emperor."

"Yes, sir," the tiger growls, glaring sullenly at the floor.

"Well, if you can guarantee his obedience…I guess I'll take him. Have him ready to go by nine."

"Don't suppose you want to tell me what's going on," Weiss says, after the blonde leaves.

"Bodyguard duty. You will attend a diplomatic function in company with the Vice President, tonight. There is a credible threat to his life, at this event, and he needs the very best protection Shinra can offer."

"Why doesn't he just…not go," Weiss points out.

"Smoking out the assassins. We don't need all of them alive. Just one will be enough. The rest…do what you want with them. But if the Vice President returns with a single hair on his head harmed, your little brother will pay the price. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

Turns out the assassins are half the people at the damn party. Someone really wants the brat dead. Too bad. They didn't bet on him showing up with a walking hydrogen bomb.

Much more quickly than is flattering to his several dozen opponents, Weiss stands victorious, amid the carnage he has created in the embassy courtyard, laughing maniacally. His twin swords are in his hands and he's drenched with blood.

Rufus is behind him, his white tux also spattered with crimson. He's pale and he looks stressed out, but his gun hand is steady, and he even fired a few competent shots.

Just in time to miss all the fun, the Turks descend in their black helicopters. Weiss tosses them the requisite alive assassin, before escorting Rufus back to his limousine.

"I really expected you to just lay there and let me do all the work," he says, as they climb in. "Who knew you'd be a halfway decent shot."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Rufus looks up into his face, to find his lips flushed, his pupils dilated, and the gold rings in his ice-blue irises glowing. "What the fuck, do you get turned on by violence?"

"Yeah. Don't you?" Weiss asks, without a hint of shame.

Rufus feels his ears and neck flush with warmth. "I—I don't know. Maybe a little. That actually was kind of exciting. Except that I almost died."

"Almost dying is the exciting part. If it was safe, would it get your blood pumping, like this?" Weiss' big hand reaches for him. His eyes get round but he doesn't pull away. A calloused finger gently touches the pulse point under his jaw. "Your heart rate is all over the place, Mr. Vice President. How about we blow off a little post-fight steam?"

Rufus swallows hard. The fingertip slides along his jaw to lift his chin.

"Fuck," is the last word he gets out, before the beast is on him.

He can feel heat radiating off this man's broad, hard, impossibly muscular body, even through their clothes. The metallic scent of blood, sweat, and cordite saturates the humid air, in the back of the limo. His mouth tastes like whiskey.

Fumbling fingers undo buttons and zippers, as they kiss urgently. Rufus gasps, when Weiss grabs his hard dick and yanks it out of his tux trousers, and groans when the man's much thicker, much heavier shaft slaps against it.

"Spit," Weiss commands, and he does, right into that big palm.

Then it's wrapped around both of them, together, and the beast is rutting into him, pounding him into the leather seat, fast and rough and dirty. He's never been taken, like this. Dominated, devoured, used like a cocksleeve, by a man who doesn't even bother to pretend he gives a damn about him. And he loves it. Fuck, he loves it. Raw, hot, animal fucking.

"Ah…Weiss!" Rufus moans. "I'm c—I'm close!"

"Give it to me, bitch," the tiger snarls, in his ear.

He digs his fingers into Weiss' arms and fucks wildly into his fist, sliding against his big cock, till his own pulses, hot and fast. Suddenly it's too much, and he's hissing from overstimulation because Weiss keeps going, thrusting in the slippery slick, till finally, Rufus feels that monster throbbing, and long, hot spurts of Weiss' seed spill all over his belly.

"Ha…ah, fuck," Weiss pants, as he pushes himself up and falls back in his seat, to refasten his pants. "Thanks, Mr. Vice President. I needed that."

"Don't mention it," Rufus says absently, rifling his pockets for his handkerchief, to clean up the mess the man left him with. "Thanks for…you know. Not letting me die."

"That was the mission. If you want a bodyguard, I'll give you a hundred percent. Otherwise, we have nothing to do with each other."

"What if I want a fuck?"

"Same answer," Wiess grins.

[fcrafcrtnight]

"SO THEY'RE MONSTERS. THE WORST KIND - THE WELL HARMED ONE. very well. you're the expert here, jake. you.. how do you make sure that they don't bother us anytime soon? this is our town. yours and mine. and no, i don't know these people, but.. i trust you. we'll make all of that happen. WHATEVER WAY YOU THINK IS BEST? WE'LL MAKE IT HAPPEN." perhaps that showed just how serious she was about all of this. about.. him? yes, she was. she would have wanted to be in control of the situation otherwise, but.. right now, she was trusting him to know better. that meant something. didn't it? to her, yes. "no. i don't buy that. if there is something that i learned a long time ago? it's that there is always a winning move. sometimes, it may be a little more difficult to see it, but.. there is always one. there is always a way to survive. together? we can find it. ALRIGHT? NO ONE'S GIVING UP. NO ONE IS LETTING THOSE BASTARDS WIN." she knew that look. in fact, she may not have seen it in him before, but.. she had seen it reflected in her own face in the past. the refusal to admit what had happened. the refusal to admit that it still got to you. she knew that look - she knew that feeling and right now, it made her feel protective for him in a way she NEVER had before. she took his hand, curling her fingers against his own.

"hey. you don't have to, okay? whenever you wish to speak of it.. i'll be here. if not, that's okay too but.. know this? no one is hurting you again. not while i'm here. i take good care of my family, you know? and you're part of it now." perhaps in ways that one would have considered brutal, but.. no, she didn't care. as long as the people she loved were safe? that was all that mattered. she'd do anything - she'd get rid of anyone - for them. her family. "ouch. talk about bad luck? but lucky for me, i suppose. or we wouldn't be here," wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. yes, this was more like it. "the last date that i went on.. well, you don't want to hear about it. SOME BORING ADMINISTRATOR GUY FROM ANOTHER HOSPITAL. pretty sure i was out of the door as soon as i could. so you see, i.. i haven't been particularly lucky in the romance department either. still learning how this goes, actually." she'd leave out the dates with parker, because he was right. they didn't matter. not in the grand scheme of things, did they? "NONSENSE! you were a great dancer. for someone that was so concerned, you were incredible. enough to sweep me off my feet.. quite literally?" she glanced at him, bitting down on her lip, before nodding. fuck it. what was one day? "i hope you know that you've quite literally achieved the impossible? i've never taken a day off. ever. for anyone. i've gone to work sick and everything else in between. this is new, but.. you know what? i'll do that." she leaned against his hand for a second, closing her eyes. yes, this felt more like it. if anything? it felt like a promise. didn't it? yes. "that.. no one's ever done that kind of thing for me. ever," no one had ever put her first. no one. "and i trust you. with anything, at this point. i'll go where you go." which was not something that she would have said to anyone, but.. jake was different and maybe, she was just starting to realise how much right now. "you know.. it's a good thing we're responsible people or i'm pretty you could have convinced me to run away with you and just.. remain there. being free, just us.. it sounds.. HEAVENLY." @springbandit

Jake let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he processed Elaine's words. The weight of hat she didn't fully understand hung heavily between them. He appreciated her confidence and offers, but he knew what Jennings & Rall truly were. What Ravenwood truly was. And he knew they weren't something even the most powerful name could buy its way out of. "They're not just con artists." he said, "They're con artists with tanks, mortars, an entire military-grade arsenal at their disposal. And Ravenwood, the contractors they work with? They don't believe in mercy. You disobey orders? You're nothing. Less than nothing." He paused, willing her to understand the gravity of what they were up against. "I've seen it. Hell, I've been a part of it. Back when I when I was with Ravenwood, we...we weren't good people. We didn't give second chances. And now that they're with J&R? There's no winning moves." Her question about what they did to him hung in the air like a knife. He hesitated, fingers curling against his sides. The memories were too close, too raw. The basement of that pig farm, the harsh lights, the pain; it was a place he tried not to visit, even in his own mind. His voice tightened as he finally spoke. "You're better off not knowing. Some things...They're just better left alone." He looked away, unable to meet her eye as he fought to steady himself for a moment, the familiar thrum of tension building in his chest.

But then, she moved closer, her words shifting the conversation, and Jake latched onto it like a lifeline. His lips curved into a faint smile. "The last date I went on didn't even have working electricity," he teased, tone lighter. "Drinks by candlelight, wasn't exactly by design and it was a far cry from romantic - her mysterious husband returned from the dead. Or rather, we thought he had." He chuckled softly, a bit of genuine warmth creeping back into his voice. "That was the last time I danced, too. Until you. And for the record? Time hasn't made me any better." He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You should take the day off. Your patients will survive one day without you. In fact, they'd probably want you to have a life outside of the hospital. Besides, you deserve this. We deserve this." his hand lingered for a moment, slowly and gently tracing down her before returning to his side. "I'll show you the stars, Elaine. For as long as you want to see them." he grinned, his confidence flickering back for a moment. "You're looking at one hell of a pilot, Dr. Pederson. Trust me, the air's where I do my best work. Safer than the ground any day of the week." His gaze softened further, and for a moment, the storm in his mind was quieter. "You and me, up there...I think that sounds like exactly what we both need. No noise, no interruptions. Just us."

@fcrafcrtnight

[902186]

thinking about kurapika and chrollo and parallels and this circle of horrors where they are the victims AND the tools of their fates.

they both think they are neither or more like they don't care about it at all. they don't see themselves as victims, and they see absolutely no other way to live other than this role they took upon themselves. kurapika had such a strong sense of identity and what he wanted to do with his life and understands himself perfectly at all times. he was a part of his clan, but he was more an individual than anything else. kuroro, on the other hand, never knowing, never thinking what his motives are, deliberately not understanding himself and desperately holding on to the spider. he can't be an individual but with others, he can be the spider.

and for both of them, it all started on vengeance. kurapika abandoned himself in order to become a tool, a weapon, to avenge his clan, and to collect scarlet eyes. he stopped being himself and became his people. kuroro didn't know his family, didn't know where he actually came from, didn't know who he was or what he was supposed to be. so growing up in meteor city, he held on to his people strongly. and in order to avenge and protect his people, he would become a tool, a weapon, he would give himself to them. he started being himself as he became his people.

kuroro could be something for his people. and kurapika could be nothing for his people.

kurapika took on the role of judgement for vengeance. kuroro took on the role of villain for vengeance. kurapika acted his part by diminishing everything he was, and kuroro acted his part by filling up his identity with it.

but one thing stays clear and fixed with them throughout it all. they would do anything for their people. for whomever they consider their people. "he'll put his friends before his mission." a weakness kuroro sees in kurapika so quickly and so easily. but the same thing he considers a strength in himself. "i am not your top priority. it is the spider that must be kept alive." as long as his people are alive, his identity will live on. and as long as kurapika is alive, his people’s identity will live on.

"now you will get to experience the pain of losing your home." kuroro (and the spiders) killing the kurta clan set this parallel in motion for himself as the circle began for kurapika. and (speculatively) kurta clan hurting his people was what set the circle in motion for kuroro, too. now thinking about where they are in the story and how their end could be, it is very clear that they are finally ending up in a place where they mirror each other (as they have from the beginning) and they can recognise it in each other and themselves. kurapika ending up empty after his mission and kuroro ending up empty after losing spiders. both of them purposeless and with no self left outside of it. in a way, this is how the circle ends. "i can hear that he accepted death." they walk with death every day with no fear and full acceptance and after losing the only thing they live for, not even something they hold on to because they don't see a point in being alive outside of the fact that they must keep going for their people, for their purpose, and if not then there's no reason to exist, they are meaningless.

kuroro's vengeance left kurapika all alone, with everyone he knew dead, and feeling hollow at the end. by fate, he ended up all alone, with everyone he knew dead and feeling hollow at the end.

and at that point, they will have to start a new page and build a new self for themselves.

[foreverxdaydreaming]

x

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[mcalhenwrites]

Still alive, writing and editing a lot and even drawing (mostly dragon sketches at work). Seasons has some new chapters now... I saw something earlier about writing being something you can hone by doing lots of reading and writing. I wonder when that will apply to me. I've read a lot of books this year. I have almost hit my goal of 90 books, and while a couple are nonfiction and half are comics, the rest are novels. I expect that to increase again, now that I'm going back to the library. (I stopped with the bed bug scare.) Then I'm setting aside time each week to write. I work on stories at work, even if it's mostly just planning. (My laptop is falling apart so I just gave up taking it to work.) Yet here I am, still the same idiot who doesn't have anything appealing enough for most people to read. I can't get 99% of my followers interested. Sales of Geckos have dropped to next-to-nothing. Nothing else I put out there matters either. The fault lies with me. I'm not good enough. After having this stupid blog for 12 years, I want to delete it. I want to delete my twitter account. I want to delete every single account and shut up for good. There is nothing I can offer. My writing is a good hobby for me. I can get pats on the head for doing a little thing for myself. Aww, look at the cute little dumbass adult doing wittle storwies!!! Isn't that silly!!! They're not good, but he's having fun during the process. Too bad he hasn't figured out that not even 39 more years of practice can save what he's handing out.

[thats-sir-dyke-to-you]

When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.

TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.

If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.

If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.

If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.

If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.

If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.

If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.

If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.

If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.

If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.

If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.

If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.

If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.

If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.

I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.

If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.

If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.

If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.

These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.

If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.

[varjopeura]

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[lesbiansanemi]

I'm so tired

[bowsers-sweaty-asshole]

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[apolleos]

"do you think i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" is so anakin and obi-wan coded YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES GEORGE LUCAS

[lucyvaleheart]

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